Archive of Our Own ^beta

it’s with a sigh that yoongi closes the door behind him, letting his bag slip off of his shoulder and fall to the floor below. he stretches, taking a moment to look around the entrance to the house. it hasn’t changed much in the past nine months since he’s been here, although he’s not surprised; his mother spent an exuberant amount of money making it perfect before they ever visited it for the first time, refusing to spend even a single day in a house that wasn’t exactly to her taste. the marble staircase and dangling chandeliers and countless pieces of artwork on the walls are just the beginning of it all; her real treasure is the landscaping, having put well over a year of her time into designing and making sure the front and back gardens were perfect, complete with a pool.

the house is a mansion, really. it’s a piece of art, as his father says.

it’s not the worst summer home yoongi has ever seen, to be fair. if he’s being honest, he prefers the jungs’ second home, but his parents have complained about yoongi trying to spend part of the summer with hoseok rather than here, where they can try to keep an eye on him and complain about the amount of money he spends on starbucks as though the mins aren’t literally drowning in money. being a rich person himself, yoongi feels he’s in a position to complain about rich people.

he sighs again before he picks up his bag and makes his way toward his bedroom. the mins only ever spend the summers here, leaving it empty for the other seven months of the year, and yoongi used to love the excuse to spend his months off from high school in florida; it seemed a world away when he was back in korea, and certainly felt so when they would fly over, even on their own private jet. now that he’s older, just graduated from a bachelor’s degree and heading into a master’s come the fall, yoongi dreads the time he spends here.

and has to spend here; now, florida is so far from everything he knows and loves. hoseok’s summer home is in california, and namjoon spends part of the summer with him there, an entire country away from yoongi. he’s never hated the size of america more, the different time zones just the tip of the iceberg. the rest of yoongi’s friends are back in korea, too, or traveling the rest of the world. yoongi will join them soon; this summer, he plans on taking at least a month in japan, then a month or two traveling through europe, meeting up with various friends along the way. but first, his parents insisted that he spend a whole month here. he could have argued, but there could be too many consequences. the last thing he needs is for them to pull all of their generous funding to his lifestyle, leaving him like one of the working class, having to budget.

so here yoongi is. it’s the middle of may, already warm enough to leave him sweating, and he has nothing to do. then again, yoongi has never been the most social person to begin with. he’s packed plenty of books for the summer, interested in doing nothing more than lounging about by the pool and letting their butler bring him various foods for the entire month.

yoongi drops off his bag in his bedroom, wrinkling his nose at the clothes he left in his closet from last summer. although he’s never been big on fashion, namjoon and hoseok are constantly reminding him that he can’t be seen wearing something from last season. he’ll sort it out later.

he wanders back through the house, stopping in the kitchen to grab a few pieces of pineapple left out on the counter. “hello?” he calls, his own voice echoing in the expanse of the mansion. “anybody home?” he’s left with no answer—not even one of their hired hands around to help him, and yoongi shrugs before heading for the backyard. his parents are probably out doing whatever they do while they’re here for five months; his mother is part of countless groups, doing hot yoga in the park or having tea parties or whatever it is she does. his father, ever the businessman even in his summer home, is constantly on the phone, having meetings. yoongi dreads the day he becomes the man.

reaching the door that leads to the backyard, yoongi slides it open and steps out, slipping on the slippers already laid out for him. the backyard is almost as big as the house alone, his mother’s pride and joy; there’s a whole section of statues and perfectly shaped hedges, not to mention the expanses of flowers, bushes, and trees that make the backyard appear like its own special piece of forest away from the rest of the world. yoongi can just make out the houses on either side of the mansion, but can’t see where the backyard even ends lengthwise, and he sighs as he makes his way to the massive pool in the middle of the backyard.

yoongi isn’t one for swimming and never has been, but it’s the perfect place to lounge around. when namjoon and hoseok visit—and hopefully they will in a few weeks, because yoongi will go absolutely insane for a whole month without them—they force him into the water, claiming that it’s good for him. often, they try to get him to go skinny dipping with them, but he doesn’t trust what they do under the water, so he usually (politely) declines. he knows they’re fucking, even though neither of them will admit it, and as delectable as they both are and as gay as yoongi is, he’s not interested in a threesome.

reaching the edge of the pool, yoongi peers into the turquoise water before he toes off his slippers and heads for one of the pool chairs at the water’s edge. the sun is bright this afternoon, and yoongi settles on one of the chairs with an umbrella over it, shading him as he settles down and pulls out his phone. he should sleep, probably, considering he’s been travelling for what feels like a whole week to get here, having fled from seoul as soon as he was able to.

he’s looking forward to spending the afternoon lounging until his parents return from their activities. they always insist on making a big deal out of yoongi arriving in florida, wanting to take him out to his favourite restaurant—which is really their favourite restaurant, one of the most expensive in town and the one where they know they’ll be spotted by all sorts of socialites who want to talk to them, who want to gush over how yoongi has grown and how he’ll be such a wonderful businessman to take part in the family business. it makes yoongi want to throw up.

yoongi checks his social media, the group chat with namjoon and hoseok—who have apparently found a pair of korean boys near their age living in hoseok’s neighbourhood and have decided to adopt them. yoongi smirks as he reads through their messages and sees the pictures they’ve taken, typing out a response about not fucking the pair of them—although he’s not sure he can really stop them when they have their sights set on someone—when he hears a noise like a door closing.

his eyes snap up from his phone, toward the forest of trees and flowers that lead to the back of the garden. it could be his parents, although they’re rarely back there—or one of the hired hands. the gardener usually doesn’t come except for on the weekends, though, and yoongi watches with both curiosity and suspicion as a figure appears out of the trees: a young man with faded peach hair, swim trunks, and a ridiculously tight black shirt. he freezes when he sees yoongi, eyes going wide, and yoongi is immediately on the defensive, putting his phone down and standing from his chair.

“who are you?” he demands in english. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, uh,” says the man—boy, really, can’t be more than twenty years old. “sorry, i’m—i’m the mins’ pool boy.”

yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. “funny,” he says. “as far as i’m aware, the mins’ pool boy is a man by the name of kim seokjin. about five years older than you, a few inches taller. much wider shoulders.” he and seokjin have gotten to know each other well over the past seven or eight years that seokjin has been their pool boy; it started out as a simple summer job that evolved into seokjin becoming like part of the family, coming back to help them even after he graduated university. he’s trying to become an actor, which hasn’t always gone well, and the mins have always been happy to employ him for the summers when he needs it.

and this boy certainly isn’t kim seokjin.

“oh,” he says. “he was unavailable for the summer. at least, that’s what the mins told me, so i applied for the job and… here i am.” he shrugs, as though there’s nothing else to say—but yoongi narrows his eyes, still suspicious about this kid. then again, he is holding keys in his hand, ones he recognizes as what seokjin always carried around when he was their pool boy.

“where is seokjin, then?” yoongi asks.

“i don’t know,” says the boy. “i didn’t ask. look, i’m just—i’m here to clean the pool? i was out of town for the weekend so it’s been a few days.” yoongi glances at the pool to see there are some leaves floating in it, as well as other foreign objects that need to be fished out. the mins don’t use the pool often, but even if no one else is back here, yoongi’s mother is adamant about keeping everything in immaculate condition.

so yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, relaxing just a little. “right,” he says. “what’s your name?”

“jeon jeongguk,” says the boy, bowing. yoongi is glad to know that he’s korean, too, at least. he’s constantly surrounded by white people when he’s here, and seokjin was one bit of home for him, even if he’s never actually lived in korea. if yoongi wants someone hanging around the pool all summer, at least it’s a korean boy.

“jeon jeongguk,” repeats yoongi, rolling the name around on his tongue. “i’m min yoongi.”

“oh,” says jeongguk suddenly, cheeks tinting. “you’re yoongi? it’s so nice to finally meet you. your parents have talked a lot about you in the past month.”

yoongi’s eyes narrow. “all good things, i’m sure.”

“of course,” nods jeongguk. “they really love you. they’re constantly praising you for your accomplishments both in and out of school and have been looking forward to you joining them here since i got hired. is it true that you know epik high personally?”

with a frown, yoongi asks, “what does it matter?”

“i was just wondering,” says jeongguk. “s’pretty cool.”

“yeah, well,” says yoongi. “you can meet a lot of people when you’re rich.”

he expects that might make jeongguk uncomfortable; talking about money often does that to people who aren’t rich, but jeongguk just grins at him crookedly, only half of his mouth lifting up. he has to wonder how jeongguk got this job, if he’s been working as a pool boy for other rich families in the area for years, if he still works for them and just wanted to take on another job. he’s probably used to this kind of lifestyle, this attitude. yoongi isn’t going to scare him away.

which is good. the last thing yoongi needs is some college kid fawning over his fucking shoes all summer, demanding to know the kind of lifestyle he lives and the parties he goes to and if he’s personally shaken the president of south korea’s hand. (the answer to that is yes, but that’s beside the point.)

“you can go back to whatever you were doing before,” says jeongguk after a second. “like i said, i’m just here to clean the pool so don’t mind me. i’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” yoongi watches him as he finally leaves the edge of the garden, heading toward the little shed next to the pool where all of their supplies are kept. yoongi is still unsure about this—unsure about who jeongguk is, what kind of person he is. he seems nice, unfortunately. and yoongi isn’t all too interested in making friends with anyone, so he’s hoping jeongguk isn’t the chatty type, just doing his job before he goes home like he’s supposed to.

with jeongguk clanking around in the shed, yoongi returns to his chair and grabs his phone again. he finishes typing out the message he was sending to hoseok and namjoon earlier, trying to catch up on his other social media sites, but he inevitably finds his eyes wandering when he hears jeongguk leaving the shed with supplies in tow.

he doesn’t want to stare, but, well. with jeongguk preoccupied with fishing the leaves, dead bugs, and other objects out of the pool, yoongi takes a moment to look at him. he noticed immediately that jeongguk appears to have a nice body, but without jeongguk looking at him, yoongi allows himself to be fully immersed in it without an ounce of shame. he was right: jeongguk does have a nice body, at least from what yoongi can see. his thighs are mostly hidden by the swimming shorts, but they stretch against the material anyway, and they reveal the rest of toned and tanned legs. the shirt he’s wearing is obscenely tight, revealing a tiny waist and narrow shoulders, the long sleeves hugging his arms well—and his fucking biceps. yoongi feels his mouth go a little dry as he watches jeongguk lean over the pool and scoop things out of the water, flexing his biceps once in a while as he lifts things.

so maybe having jeongguk as a pool boy won’t be the worst thing in the world. yoongi isn’t going to complain about having this view for the next month.

he smirks as he leans back in his chair, not even pretending to be on his phone anymore as he watches jeongguk. the peach hair is a nice touch, too, looking like it was once a pink colour but has faded with time and been lightened by the sun. it’s gotten a little long, too, hanging in his eyes a bit. yoongi suddenly gets the urge to push it out of his eyes. he also has the urge to throw himself in the pool and pretend he’s drowning so jeongguk has to haul him out of the water and give him mouth to mouth, but that’s a different story entirely.

yoongi hasn’t gotten laid in a while. sue him.

once jeongguk finishes fishing objects out of the pool, he stands up and wipes his hair out of his eyes, pausing and looking over yoongi to find him staring right back—although yoongi doesn’t bother to look away or look ashamed about having been caught, just smirking a little as they look at each other.

yoongi doesn’t have to like jeongguk, considering he’s still attached to seokjin and is unsure jeongguk will be any sort of replacement for him. but yoongi is fully gay and he can certainly appreciate a good-looking man when he sees one.

“satisfied that i’m doing a good job?” asks jeongguk, placing his hands on his hips—on that teeny little waist. yoongi wants to wrap his hands around it, wants to see if his fingers would touch.

“not quite,” says yoongi. “i think i’ll have to observe you a little more.”

he sees jeongguk smirk, just a little. while he appeared shy or flustered earlier, now he bends from the waist to grab some kit on the ground—yoongi isn’t really looking at that—and then stands back up, watching yoongi over his shoulder. “then by all means,” he says. “observe away.”

and observe yoongi does—he doesn’t bother to hide it as he watches jeongguk move about the pool, doing whatever a pool boy does. yoongi never really bothered to learn, figuring it was a lot of cleaning and checking pH balances in the pool or something like that. he just admires the way jeongguk moves, muscles tensing beneath his thin clothing, occasionally glancing over yoongi as though to make sure he’s still watching. yoongi certainly isn’t going to disappoint him.

eventually, though, jeongguk stands up and stretches—completely unnecessary, likely, as his shirt rides up to reveal a strip of tanned stomach above his waistband—and says, “i think i’m gonna take a break. do you have any water i could drink or something?”

it takes yoongi a good five seconds to realize jeongguk has said anything at all, too busy staring at his collarbones. and then—“oh,” says yoongi, almost flushing when he sees the cocky little smirk on jeongguk’s lips. “yeah, the kitchen is just to the left inside the house.” he gestures toward the house, realizing only after jeongguk has grinned at him and sauntered across the backyard that he’s been working here for a month and probably knows where the kitchen is.

when jeongguk returns, it’s with a glass of water. yoongi doesn’t hesitate before gesturing to the chair beside him. yoongi’s first impression was to think jeongguk being here was annoying, but maybe that can change. so he waits until jeongguk has sat down, stretching out on the chair (and jesus, how long are his legs?) before yoongi says, “so, jeon jeongguk. tell me about yourself.”

he can practically hear jeongguk’s smirk. “hm,” he begins. “what do you want to know?”

really, there’s only one thing—is he gay, single, and looking for a good time—but yoongi isn’t about to say that. so he just shrugs, figuring jeongguk will reveal as much as he wants to.

“well, i’m nineteen,” says jeongguk. “i’ll turn twenty in the fall. i go to the university of florida—majoring in applied physiology and kinesiology. i’m also on the track team, so.” he smirks, the little shit, knowing exactly what it means—the kind of physical wellness he has, the amount of working out he does. no wonder he has fantastic legs. “my parents live about a twenty-minute drive from here, and i’m staying with them for the summer, so that’s why i’ve got this job. among others—i’ve been working with some families around here for a few summers and i’ve had my eye on this place for a while, but like you said… the job was already filled.”

yoongi hums, leaning back in his chair. “are you sure you didn’t throw seokjin into the ocean to get this job?”

jeongguk just looks at him, mischief shining in his eyes. strangely enough, yoongi isn’t sure whether he’d be upset with it. he does like seokjin and they’re friends, even keeping in contact once yoongi goes back to korea, but seokjin was never going to fuck him. jeongguk, on the other hand…

“and you’re korean?” asks yoongi, too curious about that part of him.

jeongguk nods. “my parents were both born there, but moved here before i was born,” he says, “so i’ve lived here my whole life. i can speak korean, though, if that would make you more comfortable…”

yoongi smirks, adding bilingual to the growing list of reasons he wants to take jeongguk over the fucking pool chairs right this instant.

“s’fine,” says yoongi. “what do you like to do for fun, jeon jeongguk?”

“i do a lot of gaming, admittedly,” he says. “but i also go to the beach a lot. i like working out there.” yoongi almost curses, imagining a sweaty and sun-drenched jeongguk running along the beach, shirtless, wet from the spray of the ocean—“swimming, obviously.” jeongguk shrugs, and then carefully adds, “seeing how many pretty boys i can fluster in a day.”

yoongi grins, figuring it’s as good of a confirmation as he’s going to get. it’s obvious that jeongguk is flirting with him and has been the whole time, so he’s glad to be on the same page. “unfortunately you won’t be doing much of that around here,” he says. “the flustering thing, i mean.”

“money makes you confident, does it?”

“oh no, jeongguk,” laughs yoongi. “my charming good looks and fantastic stroke game make me confident. but money doesn’t hurt, either.” he winks, watching the way jeongguk’s eyes very clearly travel his body before returning to his face. yoongi has never been a self-conscious person, likely and admittedly stemming from his family’s money. it’s easy to be confident when the clothes he wears are top of the line, the car he drives is worth more than most people make in a year, and he has all of the skin care products he could dream of. but over the years, that sort of thing mellows out in other sorts of confidence, as yoongi realized the sort of power he has in all other aspects of his life. he’s smart, successful, can get just about anything he wants with a flash of his teeth.

just about… anything.

“am i to believe everything your parents tell me about you?” asks jeongguk. “i can’t tell if it’s true or if they just really love you.”

yoongi snorts. “you can assume that any rumour about me is probably at least half true,” he says. “except the one about sucking dick to get that internship at LG electronics.” jeongguk cocks an eyebrow. “i got that one fair and square. i sucked dick to get the one at samsung.” he sees jeongguk almost spit out the water he happened to be drinking, laughing as he crosses his ankles.

“oh,” says jeongguk once he’s swallowed the water. “good to know.”

“he was kind of old,” says yoongi with a wrinkle of his nose. “although admittedly not the worst dick i’ve sucked.”

“i thought money could get you anything.”

“oh, i didn’t have to do it,” says yoongi. “i just really love sucking dick.” he sure fucking hopes jeongguk gets it by now—and he’s not going to admit that only part of what he just said was a lie. money can get him most things, after all.

yoongi sighs, flashing a warm smile at jeongguk before he says, “shouldn’t you be getting back to work, though? that pool isn’t going to clean itself.” he takes a moment to admire jeongguk again, his ridiculous proportions, and then his eyes flicker back to jeongguk’s face to see jeongguk watching him. at this point, he’s not really not upset at seokjin not being around. he’ll have to text him and thank him for having somewhere else to be, in fact.

“right,” says jeongguk, setting the glass of water down on the table between their chairs. “do you have somewhere to be, min yoongi?”

yoongi raises his eyebrows as jeongguk stands, licking his lips as he sees jeongguk’s body a little closer. “oh no,” he says. “i’m perfectly fine right here.”

he has to wonder the ethics of fucking his parents’ pool boy. of course, he’s sure neither of them will give in that easily, but with the amount of sexual tension from this one conversation, yoongi is sure it’ll happen at some point over the next month. technically, yoongi isn’t jeongguk’s employer, so there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it. not that ethics has ever stopped him before.

jeongguk grins at him. “alright,” he says. “i’m glad to be of entertainment for you.” and then he makes his way across the backyard again, returning to his pool supplies. he pauses once he gets there again, glancing over his shoulder at yoongi, and yoongi just wiggles his fingers in a wave when their eyes meet. oh, this really won’t be a terrible month at all.

☼

the next month passes in much the same way. yoongi spends most of his time in florida hanging around the summer home, reading the handful of books he’s bought, watching netflix, or texting his friends. he does it outside, at least, so his parents can’t complain about him spending the month indoors. they drag him around almost every day, too, to some event or program in order to show him off—countless lunches with his mother’s friends, dinners with his fathers’ colleagues, or other family outings that yoongi often hates. he doesn’t dislike his parents, and spends hours every day talking to them within the safety of their own home, but as soon as they go out in public, it becomes a performance for all three of them.

yoongi has good reason to want to stay home, though. jeongguk comes by every day at eleven in the morning sharp, slipping through the trees in the backyard and appearing beside the pool as though he’s an apparition. and every day, without fail, yoongi is sitting beside the pool, waiting for him. sometimes he brings a book, keeping up the pretence that he’ll actually read it instead of ogling jeongguk the entire time, and sometimes he’ll just have his phone so he can text namjoon and hoseok about the hot twink he’s planning on bagging by the end of the summer. (they always say he’s a twink, too, but yoongi ignores that.)

sometimes yoongi brings a glass of wine with him, enjoying a little alcohol with his entertainment. and jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind the fact that yoongi watches him day in and day out, rather greeting yoongi with a blinding smile before he gets to work. and that work is always dragged out a little more than seokjin ever did, constantly going out of his way to show off his muscles to yoongi or bend over like he’s waiting for yoongi to take a bite out of his ass.

and yoongi would really, really love to—but it feels like they’re playing a game here, some sort of coy cat and mouse, and yoongi isn’t about to be the first to crack. each day, they get a little closer to the breaking point. jeongguk always takes breaks, coming to sit beside yoongi and talk to him; at first, their conversations consist mainly of heavy flirting and eye fucking, but after a few days, yoongi realizes he’s actually genuinely curious about jeongguk. he starts asking personal questions, interested in hearing what jeongguk is like and what he does during the rest of the year. bit by bit, he comes to realize that jeongguk is actually nice, and he’s cute, and he has a great sense of humour. when he’s not busy trying to be cocky and coy, he has a good heart and gets excited talking about movies and game he loves, happy to share them with yoongi.

and yoongi finds himself—endeared. he still wants to fuck jeongguk, but suddenly, he wouldn’t mind getting to spend some time with him, too. of course, neither of them says anything about it, even as the days tip in weeks and they start to become something closer to friends. because jeongguk is still being coy—he keeps taking off his shirt for no apparent reason, the first time making yoongi choke on the wine he was drinking. he’s ridiculously toned, abs on display in the sunlight, and he just cocks his head at yoongi and asks if he’s alright as yoongi hacks up a fucking lung and tries to recover. jeongguk even has a little happy trail disappearing below the low-slung waistband of his swim trunks, and yoongi was not prepared for that sight.

he keeps doing it, though, not even bothering to come up with a half-assed excuse for why he’s taking his shirt off. he just does it, as though he can do his job better without the material in the way. once or twice, after he’s finished his work, he asks yoongi if he thinks his parents would mind him going for a dip—and even if they did, it’s not like yoongi would deny himself the chance of seeing a dripping wet jeongguk. so he watches as jeongguk hops into the pool, doing laps back and forth with the water sliding off of his body, laughing as he surfaces and slicks his hair back, looking for all intents and purposes like the god of the fucking ocean.

sometimes jeongguk will try to convince yoongi to get into the water with him, but yoongi never relents. he’s adamant about not being a fan of swimming, and quite frankly, he’s a little worried about what jeongguk would do—he always has that teasing look on his face when he asks, hanging onto the edge of the pool and crooking his finger toward yoongi. not that yoongi thinks he’ll drown him, but getting into the pool seems like giving in to whatever game they’re playing, and he’s determined to make it last as long as possible—just to make the reward all the better at the end.

still, jeongguk’s teasing side comes out in other ways. sometimes he’ll splash yoongi when he’s trying to read, succeeding in getting his book wet, too. he’ll jump into the pool and then climb back out to shake his wet hair out right next to yoongi, laughing when yoongi scolds him and threatens to dock his pay as though yoongi has any say over that in the first place.

yoongi will get him back, threatening to pretend to drown in the pool so jeongguk has to save him, and jeongguk will say that he’s not a lifeguard so if yoongi does end up dying, it’s not on him. yoongi will constantly point out mistakes that jeongguk has made, claiming he’s missed a spot in the cleaning or asking him to bend over and grab something for him. jeongguk is always all too willing to comply, acting demure as he does so, and seems less than worried about yoongi constantly ogling him.

hoseok and namjoon do come to visit for a week, thankfully, and drag yoongi all about town because they refuse to spend their time in the mansion no matter how luxurious it is. out at a club for the third time in a week, hoseok asks, “so have you fucked the pool boy yet?”

yoongi sips at his drink, watching the dance floor for a moment before he shakes his head.

“you’ve been talking about it for two and a half weeks already,” says hoseok. “i’ve never known you to find someone you want to fuck and then see him every day for two and a half weeks and not do anything about it.”

“i don’t know,” says yoongi. “it’s like we’re playing a game. and we’re just waiting for the other one to crack first.”

“you know you’re only going to be here for another week and a half, right?” asks namjoon. “if he’s clearly into you and you’re into him, what’s the hold up? you could have been together for a month and instead you’re going to be all full of teenage angst and wait until the last moment and regret it.”

“shut up,” huffs yoongi, kicking namjoon in the shin. “i kind of like this whole coy thing we have going on. he’s ridiculously hot, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like… edging.”

“edging,” deadpans hoseok.

“yeah, you know—if you edge yourself enough times, it hurts like a motherfucker but it makes actually coming way better. so we keep getting close, flirting and whatever, and then when we finally do something, it’ll be even better.”

hoseok and namjoon share a look, one that yoongi knows means they think he’s stupid. “right,” says namjoon. “or it’ll just suck and not be worth the wait.”

“impossible,” muses yoongi. “with that body? fuck, i could just thigh fuck him and probably come harder than i ever have in my life.”

hoseok snorts. “alright, hyung,” he says. “you have fun cockblocking yourself for a month. i hope for your sake that it’s the best night of your entire life because i don’t want to hear you moping about how you should have fucked him and gotten it over with at the beginning.”

namjoon laughs at that, chipping in with some story about a friend of his that was in a vaguely similar situation—having met someone they liked at the beginning of the summer and not doing anything about it until the very end. yoongi can’t join in, though, too busy nursing his drink and trying to decide why he hasn’t tried to make a real move on jeongguk yet. it’s clear that they’re into each other and he does want to do something, but… maybe it’s moved beyond that now. maybe he actually kind of likes jeongguk—likes when yoongi tells him a joke and jeongguk laughs at him, no matter how bad it is. maybe he likes when jeongguk takes those breaks and talks about some movie that he watched the night before, or about what he plans on doing after he graduates. maybe yoongi originally clocked jeongguk for his incredible body and has since realized how great his personality is, and now he’s worried that just fucking him will make it seem like he doesn’t care that much, or will ruin whatever they have going on.

maybe yoongi is just confused. maybe he just wasn’t ready to meet jeongguk in the first place.

either way—he puts it out of his mind. tomorrow, he’ll get up and head out to the pool in time to meet jeongguk as he comes in to work, and he’ll laugh as jeongguk pulls his shirt off for no apparent reason, and will introduce him to namjoon and hoseok if they decide to come out and promise not to make any comments about the two of them fucking. and then he’ll have a week and a half left, realizing for the first time that maybe he wants to stay a little longer.

that’s what yoongi does, anyway. namjoon and hoseok come and go, hugging yoongi goodbye at the airport and reminding him to do something about jeongguk, and then there’s just a week left.

the next day, he’s back at the pool, having missed the last day to drop his friends off. when jeongguk comes through the garden, there’s a strange look in his eyes as he sees yoongi. “ah,” he says. “yoongi-hyung.” (yoongi feels a strange thrill to hear him say it—jeongguk explained he doesn’t use honorifics with the korean friends he has in florida, but had almost shyly asked if he could call yoongi hyung. it was stupidly endearing. oddly enough, yoongi just wanted to kiss him rather than suck his dick.)

“jeongguk-ah,” says yoongi, lounging in his chair.

“you weren’t here yesterday.”

yoongi raises an eyebrow. “i was taking namjoon and hoseok to the airport. did you miss me?”

he swears he sees jeongguk flush, just a little. it’s the first time he’s ever seen it, as jeongguk is usually so confident and bold. it betrays something within him, makes yoongi think that perhaps jeongguk likes yoongi for more than his body, too. “i assumed you had something more important to do,” he says, quickly recovering. “i hope your friends had safe travels back home.”

“they did, thanks.”

jeongguk seems to hesitate, worrying at his lower lip as he watches yoongi. “when are you leaving?” he asks then. yoongi told him from the start that he was only going to be here for a month.

“i have a flight to japan next sunday,” he says—just eight days away. he tries to judge if there’s any disappointment in jeongguk’s eyes, but he just nods.

“do you have anything big planned before then?”

“my parents are throwing some gettogether here on saturday,” says yoongi, and suddenly—has an idea. “actually, i was thinking you could come, if you wanted.”

jeongguk looks taken back, eyebrows rising. “me?” he asks. “but i’m… your pool boy.”

“and?” asks yoongi. “what if we need someone to watch the pool?”

“is it a pool party?”

“most people there will be my parents’ ages,” says yoongi. “but you never know. something might… fall in and i think you’re about the only person authorized to use that pole thing to fish stuff out.” that’s far from the truth, but yoongi suddenly wants more than anything for jeongguk to be at this stupid party—and he doesn’t want to admit that it’s because he likes jeongguk and wants him there for company. he thinks jeongguk gets that anyway, but like everything else in their sexual tension-filled summer, he can’t just come right out and say it.

“right,” says jeongguk, smirking now. “i would hate for something to go wrong with the pool and for there to be no one around to fix it.”

“it’s really for the best that you come,” agrees yoongi. “my parents want this party to be a big success, you know… for me.”

“what time should i arrive, then?”

“let’s say eight.”

jeongguk just grins at him, no hint of his usual cockiness in it. “eight it is,” he says, and then heads into the shed to grab his supplies for the day—glancing over at yoongi just once before he opens the door, eyes bright bright bright.

☼

as yoongi expected, the party is just about the worst thing he’s been forced to attend all month. at least when his parents drag him out in public, they can choose when to leave and if he really wants to get out of something, he can claim being sick or some other emergency that brings him home. this party is at his home, though, meaning he has nowhere to escape to.

the truth is that he usually doesn’t mind the gettogethers that his parents throw at the mansion. their chef goes all out and cooks up a storm of delicious appetizers and desserts, not to mention there’s always a wide array of alcoholic drinks to keep him sane. he can usually invite a few of the other rich kids from around the neighbourhood that he’s grown up with every summer, but this year, most of them haven’t been in florida at the same time as him. instead, it’s just all of his parents’ friends asking him the same questions about his schooling, gushing about his accomplishments, and comparing him to their sons.

only an hour in, yoongi realizes there really isn’t enough alcohol in the house for this.

he tries to find little excuses to get out of conversations, claiming he needs another drink or more food or that he thinks he hears his mother calling him, although that only works so many times. he’s spent the past fifteen minutes in a conversation with an elderly couple that lives down the street as they talk about their numerous grandchildren, debating how much of a scene it would cause to stab himself with the small statue on the table next to him, when he finally catches sight of his saving grace in the form of a completely out of place and vaguely frightened jeon jeongguk.

he sees a flash of jeongguk across the living room first, standing helplessly in the hallway as people mill about him, and for some reason, fondness swells inside of yoongi. it’s not just seeing jeongguk—whom he literally saw yesterday and has seen every day for the past month—but seeing him here, in the middle of yoongi’s rich lifestyle. from what he’s learned, jeongguk’s family is well-off, but not like anyone here, and it shows; he’s dressed in clothing most people here would expect to find in a thrift store, posture making him look smaller as he shies away from anyone walking past him. more than his outward appearance, the look in his eyes betrays everything else, looking as though he’s accidentally been thrown into olympus without a single inkling as to how or why.

through the small crowd, their eyes meet. yoongi sees recognition and then relief warm jeongguk’s gaze, lips curling into that crooked grin. the fondness grows too great in yoongi, cursing himself for it, knowing he’s leaving tomorrow and suddenly he likes jeongguk, and it wasn’t supposed to be like this. he was just supposed to fuck jeongguk and go off to japan, and—

“so our granddaughter, emily, you know the one with the braces? she had her gymnastics competition and of course we had to go watch her, didn’t we, harold? we couldn’t miss it! our grace, her mother, she was into gymnastics too, and we never mi—”

“i’m so sorry,” says yoongi, cutting the elderly woman off as he finally turns back to her. he hasn’t been listening to her for a while, honestly, and he can’t keep all of these white people’s names straight to begin with—“i’ve just spotted a friend and i have to go talk to him. if you would please excuse me…”

“of course,” says the woman, patting his arm.

“tell emily she did great,” says yoongi, giving them an apologetic grin before he literally flees, hurrying through the room and toward jeongguk as though jeongguk is the fucking sun and he’s but a lowly planet stuck in his orbit.

jeongguk is laughing when yoongi gets to him. “looked like a riveting conversation,” he says.

“god, i’ve never been so glad to see you,” sighs yoongi. “i could fucking kiss you.”

jeongguk—looks at him. yoongi licks his lips, trying to decide if he ought to take that back or laugh it off, but the truth is that he could kiss jeongguk. has been wanting to since day one, and he just grins a little before hooking his arm through jeongguk’s and steering the both of them toward the kitchen.

“where are we going?” asks jeongguk.

“alcohol,” says yoongi. “the only way we’ll survive this is alcohol.”

the truth is, now that jeongguk is here, yoongi doesn’t plan on spending another moment making nice about some stupid keto-friendly casserole karen from down the block discovered the other day. once he’s poured both of them drinks—with more alcohol than anything else—he pulls jeongguk back through the house until they reach the entrance and more importantly the staircase. it’s less crowded and quieter here, everyone having situated themselves further in the house, and yoongi sits down on the stairs as he sighs, knocking back a third of his drink in one go.

jeongguk laughs again. “that bad?”

“how do you live around white people all year?” asks yoongi. “i have a hard enough time doing it for a month at a time.”

“you get used to it,” he shrugs. “besides, i have a lot of asian friends. you end up sticking together.”

he knows it’s more than that; his parents have plenty of friends who aren’t white, so maybe it comes with the money, as well. everything is always a performance, always a competition. yoongi knows he’s stuck up, too, but it has to be a problem when he’s annoyed with how stuck up the people here are. either way, he’s glad to be with jeongguk, who has never tried to boast about his accomplishments or possessions and rarely asks yoongi about his lifestyle or money.

“are your parents really friends with all of these people?” asks jeongguk; he hasn’t sat down yet, instead wandering around the entrance and looking at the various decorations. there’s a table in the middle of the entrance with a massive plant on it, and various statues around the circular expanse where large hallways lead to other parts of the house. since jeongguk spends most of his time here by the pool, yoongi has to wonder what he thinks of the rest of it.

“i call them friends,” says yoongi, “but my parents care about very few of them. most of the time, they hang out with people to brag or for connections. most people are only here because my parents want to boast about my house and accomplishments. and me.”

“you’re their pride and joy, huh?”

yoongi snorts. “that would be my brother, probably,” he says. “he’s the one with a real job and success. even has a fiancé.”

“you’re just younger,” says jeongguk. “once you graduate and get out there, you’ll be just like him.”

“god, i hope not.” yoongi sips at his drink. “i don’t know. i’ve never really been into business, but that’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“what do you want to do, then?”

it’s weird—yoongi isn’t sure anyone has ever really asked. he just shrugs, never having thought about it much himself. “i’ll figure it out,” he says. “do it as a hobby. honestly, i don’t think it matters what i do because i’ll be able to coast off the inertia of my family’s money for the rest of my life. it’s a real luxury, but i don’t know.”

“don’t say you wish you weren’t rich,” laughs jeongguk. “so many people would literally kill for your place.”

“what about you?” asks yoongi. he turns his head to look at jeongguk, who is across the entrance and nursing his own drink. “would you want to be in my place?”

jeongguk glances around the entrance, up at the chandelier hanging above the ceiling thirty feet above his head. “i wouldn’t mind having a summer home in another country with marble staircases and a pool and a chef,” he says. “nice cars, nice clothing, the ability to travel anywhere for as long as i want because money isn’t an object…”

“you could,” says yoongi.

“how?” asks jeongguk, looking back at him.

yoongi licks his lips. “you could be a mistress.”

for a second, jeongguk just stares at him. and then he snorts. “right,” he says. “how about i marry some rich old bastard and then he mysteriously dies, leaving me all of his wealth? i could come down the staircase in a long, silky black robe, cry about him to the police, and then jet set off to thailand before the corpse is even cold.”

“that’s the attitude, jeon,” nods yoongi. “gotta look out for yourself. you’ll get there in the end.”

jeongguk wanders back over to him, finishing the last of the alcohol in his cup. he stops once he gets to the bottom of the staircase, leaning against the banister where yoongi sits a few stairs above. “i could do without the murder,” he says quietly, glancing up at the ceiling before he meets yoongi’s eyes again. “maybe i could find a rich man that i happen to like, too.”

yoongi’s mouth goes dry. “impossible,” he murmurs. “all rich people are insufferable.”

“i’ll keep my eye out,” says jeongguk. “just in case.”

yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that. for a time, jeongguk looks down at him like he’s trying to decide something—maybe what to say, what to do. yoongi is keenly aware that he’s leaving for japan in something like twelve hours, that somewhere over the past month, he stopped caring about jeongguk for his body and more for his company, for their conversations. they never had an arrangement to begin with, but it still feels like he’s broken all of the rules.

so finally, he’s able to open his mouth and croak out, “another drink?”

jeongguk looks—disappointed, just a little. the expression is gone just as quickly as it appears, though, a cocky grin replacing it. “only if you let me pour this time. you’re shit at mixing drinks.”

they spend the rest of the party in the same manner, hanging around the kitchen and knocking back various drinks while stealing food from the trays that the chef sets out. they make easy and light conversation, apparently veering away from whatever happened in the entrance, and yoongi is happy for it. he doesn’t want to think about the implications of any of this, of the happenstance of meeting jeongguk like this and leaving almost immediately after.

yoongi’s parents eventually wander through, engaging them in a conversation for a while. a few other couples stop by to ask yoongi questions, and then jeongguk once they realize they’ve never seen him before, and he’s always proud to tell them that he’s the mins’ pool boy because it makes them vaguely uncomfortable. soon, a few minutes turns to an hour turns to two turns to three, and then the last of the party-goers are bidding them goodnight and leaving the house. yoongi’s parents have retired to deeper recesses of the house, reminding yoongi not to stay up too late since he has to be up early for his flight, and then it’s just the two of them and this big empty house.

realistically, jeongguk should go home. yoongi should go to sleep. but neither of them says anything, and yoongi is just tipsy enough to be bold in an entirely different way, forgetting how to be the coy person he’s been for the past month. maybe it’s finally time to stop denying himself what he wants.

so he suggests they relocate to the pool, giggling as jeongguk almost trips over the sliding door leading to the backyard even though he claims he’s entirely sober. the backyard and pool are lit up by lamps and little lights set in the ground, the weather humid and warm. the only sound is that of nocturnal bugs in the bushes. yoongi groans as he collapses onto one of the poolside chairs, only realizing now how much his head is spinning, perhaps a little drunker than he anticipated.

jeongguk is still giggling as he collapses in his own chair, stretching out and looking up at the sky. yoongi just watches him for a few moments, admiring jeongguk’s beauty in an entirely different way than he has been for most of the summer month. he’s absolutely breathtaking in all forms, of course, but there’s something about him now—tanned from two months of working by the pool, flushed from the alcohol, illuminated by moonlight and the lights from the backyard—that makes yoongi ache.

eventually, jeongguk lolls his head to look at yoongi. “thanks for inviting me,” he sighs. “it was actually pretty fun.”

“thanks for coming,” says yoongi. “you really saved my life. i’ve been to so many of these that i can have these conversations in my sleep, so it was nice to have a change of pace.”

jeongguk hums. “i’m happy to eat your food and drink your alcohol in hopes that your parents have to pay a little more,” he says. “and to make life a little more bearable for you. it must be so hard being rich.”

“shut up,” snorts yoongi. “this is probably the worst part. i don’t mind everything else. being able to travel is nice.” and just like that, he’s reminded of his flight tomorrow, his plans in japan. it’s far from the first time he’s gone, and will be far from the last, but it feels different.

“what time is your flight?” jeongguk asks quietly.

“nine, i think,” says yoongi. “so i have to be there a few hours early.” he should be sleeping. but he wouldn’t sacrifice this for the world, having one last conversation with the pool boy.

“what are you gonna do when you’re in japan?” asks jeongguk next, seeming genuinely interested. “i’ve always wanted to go.”

“you haven’t been?” jeongguk shakes his head. “i’m spending part of it in tokyo and then the rests of it kind of wandering around smaller cities around the countryside. i love the fast-paced lifestyle of tokyo, all of the crazy things you can do and see, but there’s also something about the more pastoral parts of japan that are something you can’t miss. i love visiting the temples and getting away from some of the crowds.”

jeongguk hums. “it sounds really nice.”

“i have a few friends who stay there over the summer,” says yoongi, “so i’ll be staying with them when i’m in their cities. other than that, i like to go off on my own.” yoongi has always liked that, being alone. unbidden, his mind offers a mental image of jeongguk there with him—sitting on the train beside him, having fallen asleep on his shoulder. laughing in a club beside him, amazed at the entertainment. wandering the temples with him, holding his hand to make sure he doesn’t go too far.

yoongi closes his eyes, shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts. he’s drunk—must be.

“you’ll have lots of fun,” sighs jeongguk. when yoongi looks back at him, his eyes are closed, as though he’s on the verge of falling asleep. “and on the rest of your travels, too. and back in korea.”

yoongi swallows tightly, feeling the elephant in the room that neither of them is willing to acknowledge. “yeah,” he says. “starting a master’s degree… kind of terrifying. but i’m excited, too, i guess. i like school.”

“you could probably just pay for high grades if you failed,” says jeongguk, lips curling into a grin.

“shut up,” huffs yoongi. “i earn my grades fair and square.”

“like you earned your internships fair and square?” jeongguk cracks an eye open, that shit-eating smirk yoongi knows so well on his face. yoongi leans over in his chair enough that he can flick jeongguk in the forehead, making him giggle.

when he’s returned to his own chair, he realizes how mellow he is now—maybe the fault of the alcohol, maybe the impending doom of leaving tomorrow. maybe realizing that he’s spent the entire summer waiting for the moment to be right with jeongguk, whether to fuck him or do something else, and now they’re rapidly running out of time and neither of them appears prepared to address it.

he sighs. “you know,” he finally says. “at first, i was kind of upset that seokjin wasn’t our pool boy anymore. i like him a lot and he’s good at what he does. but… i dunno. i guess you grew on me, jeon jeongguk.”

“yeah?” asks jeongguk—sounding hopeful and eager rather than cocky and teasing as yoongi might have expected him to.

yoongi grins at him. “yeah,” he says. and he thinks—maybe that’s it. maybe that’s all he has to say, and he’s watching jeongguk, waiting for something more, wishing he knew how to be anything but cocky and flirty, wishing he knew how to just put his desires into actions rather than waiting for jeongguk to do it, and—

jeongguk suddenly stands up, so quickly that he must be dizzy, for he stumbles forward a step. “well,” he says. “you might be leaving tomorrow, but i’m still the pool boy!”

“what are you doing?” asks yoongi.

“you said i had to be here in case something went wrong with the pool,” says jeongguk, now stepping around the chair so he can face the pool, hands on his hips. yoongi snorts watching him, trying not to be disappointed that whatever meaning moment they had is now gone—“oh look, there’s a leaf!”

“jeongguk,” groans yoongi, too tired to get up to stop him. “you don’t have to get the leaf.”

“no, hyung,” says jeongguk. “i’m the pool boy and a pool boy must always be prepared!”

“for what?”

jeongguk doesn’t answer him, too busy hurrying around the side of the pool so he can grab the lonely leaf floating in the water. yoongi laughs as he watches, although he realizes quickly that jeongguk is too drunk for that—he’s not even walking straight, leaning dangerously toward the pool as he hurries around the side. even if he’s a strong swimmer and probably tall enough to stand toward the deep end, he’s still drunk and slipping would be a terrible idea.

“jeongguk,” says yoongi. “jeongguk-ah, come back. c’mon, you’re too drunk for this.”

jeongguk continues around the side of the pool, leaning over with his hand outstretched as he tries to reach the leaf, and yoongi realizes the moment he’s leaning too far, too tipsy to keep his own balance, and he realizes jeongguk is about to fall in—

“jeongguk!” he begins, but it’s too late, and jeongguk loses his balance, letting out a high-pitched shriek before he goes tumbling into the water with a spectacular splash, clothes and all. yoongi’s heart leaps into his chest, panicking as he gets up from his chair and doesn’t even hesitate as he throws his slippers off. rationally, he knows that jeongguk will be fine, but he panics anyway, drunken mind telling him to save him, so yoongi pulls off his shirt, not bothering with his jeans before he runs for the pool and jumps in after jeongguk.

immediately, he realizes what a mistake it is—not only because the water is fucking freezing and he’s still wearing jeans, but also because he accidentally inhales a lungful of water and does little to actually save jeongguk. he opens his eyes below the water, seeing jeongguk’s body amongst an onslaught of bubbles as he quickly resurfaces, coughing to get the water out of lungs as he rapidly tries to tread water.

jeongguk is there with him somewhere, doing a shit job at treading water as well, and yoongi is still coughing, waterlogged and getting more water in his face because jeongguk keeps splashing, and by the time yoongi manages to cough all of the water out of his lungs, he realizes jeongguk is laughing.

yoongi takes a few deep breaths, slicking his wet hair back on his head and wiping water out of his eyes as he turns to see jeongguk against the side of the pool, holding onto the ledge with one hand and laughing as he watches yoongi. he can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the situation, but yoongi just stares at him, feeling strangely offended.

“why are you laughing?” he demands. “i almost just drowned because of you.”

“i didn’t ask you to jump in after me,” laughs jeongguk, looking too giddy and pleased with the situation for yoongi’s liking.

“you almost drowned, too!” he protests. “would you rather i just sat there and watched you flail about like an octopus?”

“i’m the one who goes swimming regularly. i think i’m more qualified to survive in a pool than you.”

“just say thank you, you brat,” growls yoongi, finally doggy paddling to the ledge—on the other side of the pool from jeongguk, not interested in being anywhere near him with that kind of scare. now yoongi has ruined a perfectly expensive pair of jeans and he’s in the water, which he almost went the whole month without doing.

jeongguk laughs at him again. “you didn’t even do anything,” he says. “while you were busy coughing out your lungs, i saved myself. but thank you, i guess. for the concern.”

once on the other side of the pool, yoongi realizes the water is shallow enough for him to stand. he huffs as he touches down, the water now reaching the bottom of his chin, and glares at jeongguk. he slicks his hair back again, making sure none of it is in his eyes, and realizes he can’t get out without jeongguk seeing his bare chest—not that that’s a bad thing, but he’s been ogling jeongguk’s bare chest for the entire month and it’s strange to have the situation turned on its head.

he has no intention of getting out now that he’s gotten into the water, anyway.

for a time, neither of them says anything. they just watch each other from across the pool. it’s hardly the first time yoongi has seen jeongguk wet, but just like earlier on the chairs, he thinks—there’s something different about this time. and maybe it’s not something different about jeongguk.

eventually, jeongguk pushes off the ledge, slowly wading through the water toward yoongi. he keeps low, the water cutting across his mouth as he sinks in the water, and yoongi feels his stomach flip. he presses his back against the wall of the pool, watching as jeongguk slinks across the pool, closer and closer until he stops just short of yoongi, the same height with the water rippling against their skin.

“what?” whispers yoongi, suddenly afraid to raise his voice.

gingerly, jeongguk reaches out, lifting his hand out of the water so he can thumb over the corner of yoongi’s mouth. “you’re really very pretty,” he replies quietly. “my pretty hyung.”

yoongi sucks in a breath, involuntarily. “so are you.”

“hm,” says jeongguk. “you’ve been staring at me for the past month.”

“really?” asks yoongi, a nervous lilt to his voice, knowing he’s reverting to humour because he’s strangely nervous. “i didn’t think you’d noticed. certainly didn’t do anything about it.”

“you didn’t do anything about it either.”

“maybe i was waiting for you to.”

jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to his lips, back to his eyes, and then to his lips again, staying there. “you’re leaving tomorrow,” he murmurs, and moves a little closer, closer, the water rippling between them, and yoongi presses himself against the wall of the pool as jeongguk stands up properly, the few inches between them forcing him to tilt his head back. “who am i supposed to show off for once you’re gone?”

“i’m sure there’s some pretty boy living in one of the other houses you’re a pool boy for,” whispers yoongi, jeongguk’s hand slipping to rest on his cheek, holding him there. “maybe he won’t wait a whole month to do something about it.”

jeongguk shakes his head, close enough that his breath ghosts over yoongi’s lip when he speaks. “i don’t mind,” he whispers. “i think i’d wait much longer than a month to kiss you, min yoongi.”

yoongi inhales, heart pounding in his ears, and it’s just—they have no time, no room. he remembers what he told namjoon and hoseok about edging and almost laughs at himself, thinks of seeing jeongguk on that first day, the cocky little grin he had. and here he is, finally—touching yoongi, only an inch away. yoongi’s gaze moves to jeongguk’s, just for a moment, and then he closes the distance between them.

he surges forward and finally, finally kisses jeongguk.

a month’s worth of desire and tension rush up to meet them, nothing soft or careful about it from the beginning; jeongguk’s hands cradle yoongi’s head, one slipping into his wet hair to hold on loosely, and yoongi’s hands finally find jeongguk’s waist beneath the water. yoongi pushes hard and jeongguk pushes back, lips colliding again and again in the middle as the water ripples around them. they’re pressed chest to chest, and yoongi—yoongi has thought about this countless times. has imagined it again and again, trying to decide what jeongguk’s lips would feel like on his, what his body would feel like against yoongi’s.

the real thing is better than anything he could have imagined, though, and he was right; waiting was worth it, is worth it—yoongi opens his mouth and feels jeongguk’s tongue seeking and searching, curling around his own. jeongguk tastes like the alcohol they were drinking and something more: sun-kissed and so little time, urgency leading them on.

yoongi would love to take his time, imagines what it would be like to take jeongguk apart in this very pool for hours on end. but they’ve waited too long for it, yoongi’s hands shaking as he squeezes at jeongguk’s waist, thumbs dipping below the waistband of his jeans. jeongguk makes a noise into his mouth, letting yoongi swallow it down, and presses him a little harder against the wall of the pool. yoongi thinks—he should say something, should do something more, but he can’t stop kissing jeongguk, can’t bear to tear his lips away after he’s waited so long for it.

he feels like a starved man, feels like he’s gone the whole month without water and now, finally, he’s made it to the sea. he could drink it all down and die from it, knowing it’s not good for him, but he doesn’t care because water is water, and jeongguk is enough to fill him up, enough to leave him satisfied.

they break away for a moment, yoongi’s eyes hazy in the darkness as he watches jeongguk. he’s flushed, lips already red and swollen, and yoongi’s feels jeongguk’s hand on his cheek, just holding. it’s softer than the rest of it, and maybe—maybe there should be something to say. maybe now is a good time to admit that somehow, this has turned into more than just sexual desire, but jeongguk’s lips are too tempting, too tantalizing.

yoongi leans in again, jeongguk meeting him in the middle in another bruising, dizzying kiss. this time, yoongi can taste chlorine on his lips and licks inside instead, wanting to taste more, wanting to taste all of him. he makes a noise, means more more more, and jeongguk breaks away to press burning kisses to his top lip, bottom lip, below his lip—his jaw, then down to his neck, making yoongi stretch upward so jeongguk can stay above the water line.

yoongi breathes hard, tipping his head back and looking up at the dark sky. he’s embarrassingly aroused already, body ready to snap just from jeongguk kissing him, hand sliding down his bare chest. he can’t be surprised, though, when he’s waited so long for this, and he lets out a breathless laugh before muttering, “edging.”

“what?” asks jeongguk, pulling his lips away from yoongi’s neck. with a hand still in yoongi’s hair, he returns to his lips, leaning their foreheads together and just breathing for a moment; somehow, the water isn’t as cold anymore, their breaths mingling as yoongi nudges their noses together.

“nothing,” says yoongi, closing his eyes for only a moment. it’s almost hard to believe jeongguk is this close after so long, bodies pressed together, promise of more just an inch away in the form of his perfect pink lips. yoongi hums, tilting his head and brushing his lips over jeongguk’s, teasing. “i’ve waited all month for this.”

jeongguk snorts. “and why the fuck did you do that?”

yoongi laughs, suddenly pushing on jeongguk’s waist so he can flip them around, slower in the water, and presses jeongguk’s back against the wall of the pool instead. “shut up and kiss me,” he says, and jeongguk seems eager to. he lets yoongi press him against the wall as their lips collide again, just as much urgency in the kiss as the first, as the second. yoongi realizes he needs his fill now, might never get it again, and it’s terrifying but thrilling at the same time. his head is clouded with arousal and need, letting those two things guide him as his body moves against jeongguk’s.

he could do this all night—could, wants to, but his body reminds him of something more. eventually, he trails his hand down a little further and brushes against the front of jeongguk’s jeans, pleasantly unsurprised to find a bulge there. jeongguk hisses against his lips, hips bucking against yoongi’s hand in a clear demand for more, and yoongi is all too willing to give it to him—he palms his hand against jeongguk’s hardening cock, kissing jeongguk’s open mouth, groaning too much to do much more.

“fuck,” says yoongi. “wanna put your cock in my mouth so bad.”

“jesus,” curses jeongguk, throwing his head back as yoongi palms him harder, leaving his neck free for yoongi to suck a mark into. “yeah—do it. thought about it a lot.”

“really?” asks yoongi, smirking. “you like my mouth, jeongguk?”

“like everything about you,” huffs jeongguk. “thought about your mouth and your fingers and y-your—ah, fuck, hurry up.” yoongi nips at the skin of his neck, growing impatient enough himself that he has no qualms about skipping the teasing part. something tells him that he and jeongguk could get stuck on that, too, what with how teasing they’ve been all summer, but they don’t have time for that now. there’s no game here, not anymore. it’s just—them.

yoongi deftly undoes the button of jeongguk’s jeans, then, but rapidly runs into a problem when his hands get to jeongguk’s waistband. “shit,” he says. “this is going to be really hard.”

“we’re already hard,” groans jeongguk.

“no, dumbass,” snaps yoongi, pressing a kiss to the underside of jeongguk’s jaw. “it’s really fucking hard to get wet jeans off.” he hadn’t really thought about that, not when he’d jumped into the pool after jeongguk, but—he has waited a month for this. he’s not letting some waterlogged denim get in the way of jeongguk getting the dick sucking of his life, so he grabs jeongguk’s waist again. “hop on the ledge,” he breathes, waiting for jeongguk to do as he says before he pushes on jeongguk’s stomach to make him lie down.

the height is—strangely perfect, he realizes, jeongguk’s crotch at yoongi’s eyelevel. he grabs the waist of jeongguk’s jeans and tugs, jeongguk helpfully lifting his hips up to aid with the slide, although it doesn’t work too well. yoongi grunts as he tries to pull the wet denim off of jeongguk, but it sticks too much and he’s still kind of drunk and lazy, limbs going sore almost immediately. he tries going from the bottom instead, tugging at the legs of jeongguk’s jeans only to go nowhere before he gets tired of that, too.

“oh my god,” huffs yoongi, leaning his forehead against jeongguk’s knee. “i can’t believe i’m getting cockblocked by a pair of jeans.”

jeongguk snorts. “we could have just done this dry.”

“you could have just not fallen in the pool.”

“you could have just kissed me ages ago.”

yoongi tries to pinch him, but he doesn’t think jeongguk can feel it. he takes another deep breath and then lifts his head, furrowing his brows as makes a grab for jeongguk’s waistband again. jeongguk lifts his hips and yoongi wiggles the jeans down, finally managing to get them past his ass, at least, and then figures neither of them really care and yanks them down so they peel off of jeongguk’s legs inside out. it’s surprisingly easy from there, and yoongi lets out a triumphant yell as he finally gets the stupid jeans all the way off, tossing them sideways into the pool.

“hey,” says jeongguk, lifting his head. “those are good jeans.”

“i don’t care,” says yoongi, already reaching for jeongguk’s wet briefs and tugging those down, too. “your jeans are on the bottom of my list of priorities.”

“speaking of bot—ah!” jeongguk yelps as yoongi gets a hand around his cock, not even bothering to be subtle or coy about it.

yoongi has been thinking about it for too long, jacking off in the shower like a fucking teenager again, and now he’s finally here—now he presses himself against the wall between jeongguk’s legs, stroking jeongguk’s cock a few times before he says, “pretty, just like the rest of you.”

“god,” says jeongguk, struggling to sit up again. he lifts his wet shirt up, revealing the rest of his stupidly toned body, and yoongi’s cock twitches in his own jeans as he glances up at jeongguk through his eyelashes; jeongguk’s eyes are blown wide with lust, lips parted as he watches yoongi stroke him, and then yoongi leans in and presses a kiss to the head of his cock. he smirks at the way jeongguk gasps, but he has no intention of teasing. rather, he kisses down the shaft of jeongguk’s cock, running his fingers over the head of it, and then licks a fat stripe back up.

“your cock tastes like chlorine,” says yoongi.

“thanks,” says jeongguk, and yoongi snorts. part of him had been worried that finally sleeping together would be awkward after so long, but he’s glad to know that neither of them have lost this easy banter. maybe being tipsy is helping, too, maybe he’s just eager and so deep in lust that he’s about to blow his own load just from having jeongguk’s cock in his hand. he feels jeongguk’s hand on his head again, sliding into his hair, and then yoongi finally opens his mouth and sinks down on jeongguk’s cock.

jeongguk moans above him, fingers tightening in his hair, and yoongi gets to work—bobs his head on jeongguk’s cock, suctioning his mouth so he can suck properly. and he has thought about this—thought about what jeongguk’s cock would feel like in his mouth, what it would taste like, how long or thick it would be. somehow, he’s forgotten all of his expectations, moaning now as he takes jeongguk a little deeper.

he keeps going, one of his hands splayed on jeongguk’s thigh and the other stroking at the base of his cock. he can hear jeongguk hissing and groaning above him and takes his chances, looking up at him when he’s got most of jeongguk’s cock in his mouth, their eyes meeting. jeongguk curses, hips jumping and shoving his cock another inch into yoongi’s mouth.

something about that makes yoongi feel triumphant, knowing what he’s doing to jeongguk as he pulls off, a string of spit connecting his lips and jeongguk’s cock. he goes back to stroking him, lazily kissing the head of jeongguk’s cock and then down down down, laughing at the sounds jeongguk makes.

“good?” he asks.

“yeah, fuck,” sighs jeongguk, stroking his hand through yoongi’s hair. “always knew you’d be good with your mouth.”

“hm, i’m good at eating ass, too,” says yoongi. “wanna see?”

jeongguk curses, cock twitching in yoongi’s hand. and yoongi laughs, taking the head into his mouth again and swirling his tongue around it. he’s practically drooling over it, enthusiastically sucking the head into his mouth before he sinks down a little more and bobbing his head again. he can feel jeongguk’s thighs tensing under his hand, muscles contracting with each movement of yoongi’s tongue, his breaths coming a little harder now.

yoongi keeps going, bobbing his head and sucking on jeongguk’s cock until his jaw begins to get sore, and even then, he pushes through it. eventually, though, he hears jeongguk’s moans begin to thin out, gasping in breaths that betray how close he is to orgasm.

“feels good,” says jeongguk again, unbidden. “gonna—shit, hyung. gonna come.”

yoongi pulls off, rapidly stroking jeongguk’s cock as he looks up at him and then presses his lips to the shaft again, licking over it. “i don’t think you come in the pool,” he says. “it’ll be impossible to clean.”

“then let me come on your face,” groans jeongguk. he’s not even looking at yoongi anymore, eyes shut and forehead pinched. he’s close to the edge, and yoongi gives his cock a good lick before pulling away again, still stroking him.

“you’re not coming on my face,” he says. “i don’t trust you not to miss.”

jeongguk groans. “just fucking—hurry, i’m gonna—” he gasps, throwing his head back, and yoongi realizes what few options they have before he groans and puts his mouth back on jeongguk, swallowing him down in one go. he sucks on the upstroke, feeling jeongguk’s body go taunt beneath his hand, and then closes his lips around jeongguk’s cock, sucking one last time before jeongguk comes into his mouth.

not his preferred method, but—it’ll have to do. he groans at the salty taste on his tongue, waiting until jeongguk’s body has gone slack to bob his head a few more times, swirling his tongue around jeongguk’s cock to clean it off before pulling off and swallowing.

when he looks up, jeongguk is staring down at him with awe in his eyes. “did you just—”

“yeah, and i’m not doing it again,” he says, surprised when jeongguk suddenly leans over, takes yoongi’s face into his hands, and kisses him—hard, with purpose, not unlike their first kiss minutes ago in the water. yoongi makes a noise against it, pulling away when jeongguk does, and thinks about how utterly obscene it is that he’s just given a blowjob to his parents’ pool boy in the pool. somehow, it was only going to come to this.

jeongguk kisses him again, like he’s trying to lick his own come out of yoongi’s mouth, and it’s only then that yoongi realizes just how hard he is; the water is cold, but it does little to deter him, trapped within the confines of his own wet jeans.

when jeongguk pulls away again, it’s with a muffled, “more,” and yoongi sighs, knocking their foreheads together.

“what do you want?” asks yoongi, a dangerous question.

“don’t care,” says jeongguk. “wanna fuck you. want you to fuck me. just—you. want you, hyung.”

yoongi groans, surging up to kiss him again, but he’s eager to give jeongguk whatever he wants. after so long, anything would be perfect, would be enough, and he manages to stop kissing jeongguk long enough to haul himself out of the water, too. all he knows is that they can’t do it out here, and he barely remembers to fish jeongguk’s jeans out of the pool before they stumble back towards the house, drying off with towels left near the door.

it’s even more obscene, he realizes, to fuck his parents’ pool boy with his parents in the house, but yoongi’s room is thankfully far away from theirs, and he and jeongguk giggle as they make their way to his bedroom, still attached at the lips. from there, it’s urgent and cold and wet, just as hard to get yoongi’s clothes off, but they manage.

then it’s just—skin and skin and skin, whole expanses of it, and yoongi is so, so warm, pressed against jeongguk’s body the way he’s wanted it this whole time. suddenly, he’s not scared anymore—not scared of the after part, not scared of this not being enough, because it’s jeongguk. and what yoongi has learned is that he’ll take whatever jeongguk wants to give him, will give whatever jeongguk wants to take.

it’s all wandering hands and wandering lips, and yoongi keening into jeongguk’s mouth, pressing each other into the mattress. yoongi makes an aborted attempt to keep jeongguk quiet, hoping sound doesn’t travel well, but he loves that too—the sounds that jeongguk makes when yoongi touches him just there, kisses him just there. the way jeongguk gasps and moans, the way they mingle so perfectly with yoongi’s own, like a symphony. like they were made for this.

yoongi’s high on it, on the feeling, on the pleasure—he doesn’t know what he says in the midst of it, under all of those sheets. he’s slick with sweat and pool water, and jeongguk’s hands are everywhere, his body is everywhere. yoongi wants it like that forever, he thinks, would give anything to stay right here in this bed with their hips rocking together, over and over and over.

and he was right, he thinks—he was right about making it better. at first, he wanted to continue this game to make the pleasure better, for his own selfish and bodily desires, but now he realizes he fucked that up. because now it’s less about that, more about what it means, more about realizing that he likes jeongguk more than he should and he’s leaving in a few hours, and jeongguk sounds so, so good against his ear, moaning his name. he looks so, so good in yoongi’s bed, and he’d probably look good holding yoongi’s hand at the movies, going out to dinner, being here, and that’s—that’s not—

when yoongi comes, it’s with a sharp gasp, body arching into jeongguk’s. and he wants—more, suddenly. less to do with his body, more to do with his heart. it’s all gone wrong, but somehow, that’s the only thing that makes sense.

after, with heavy limbs, yoongi pulls jeongguk into him, throwing the covers over both of them. “stay,” he says, already halfway to sleep, and doesn’t give jeongguk a choice in the matter when yoongi wraps all of his limbs around him.

he feels jeongguk press a kiss to his cheek. “okay,” he says, because maybe that’s the only way either of them could imagine spending the last night before yoongi leaves: together, basking in post-sex glow. it still smells like chlorine. yoongi holds jeongguk a little closer.

☼

yoongi watches jeongguk wake up. he thought that this, too, would feel weird—after spending a month lusting after jeongguk only to finally reach that finish line, only to make it more intimate than either of them likely anticipated. but there’s something endearing about that, too, the way jeongguk slowly begins to stir, still swathed in yoongi’s bedsheets. yoongi himself sits on the windowsill seat, his suitcase beside him. but he watches jeongguk, morning light slanting across the sheets, the floor.

jeongguk makes a groaning noise, rolling over and stretching out his arms over the sheets. yoongi can’t help but grin, watching as jeongguk’s eyes finally open, squinting against the faint light filling the room. he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, and then lifts his head, barely a tuft of peach blonde hair that yoongi can see, and they look at each other.

“hi,” says yoongi.

jeongguk makes a non-committal noise, head falling back against the pillow. “time is it?” he eventually croaks.

yoongi licks his lips, glancing down at his watch. “almost ten,” he says.

jeongguk groans in response, showing that he’s heard, and then—yoongi waits, still watching. it takes a few seconds, jeongguk still groggy and heavy with sleep, but then his head shoots up again, eyes wide and panicked as he stares at yoongi. “hyung!” he calls. “your flight! wasn’t it at nine?” he throws the covers off of himself, stumbling out of the bed and nearly tripping over his own feet (grabbing the sheets to cover himself considering he’s still naked) as he makes for yoongi. “what are you doing? you’re supposed to be gone!”

he reaches yoongi and tries to tug him off of the windowsill, sheets trailing after him. the panic is evident in his voice and expression, no longer sleepy as he grabs yoongi’s arm. and yoongi laughs—“jeongguk.”

“oh my god, we shouldn’t have had that much to drink last night,” rambles jeongguk. “this is totally my fault. i’ll pay for a new flight, okay?”

“jeongguk.”

“oh god, i don’t have that kind of money. but your fri—”

“jeongguk,” says yoongi, finally reaching out and grabbing jeongguk’s face, forcing him to stop and look at yoongi. and here, yoongi’s smile is finally a little sheepish, a little shy. “i’m not going to japan.”

jeongguk blinks. “what?”

“i’m not going to japan,” repeats yoongi. confident that jeongguk will stop trying to wrench him away from the window, he lets go, worrying at his bottom lip for a moment before he scratches at the back of his neck and launches into the speech he’s been constructing in his mind for the past few hours. “i’ve been to japan countless times, and… honestly, as much as i like traveling, most of the time i just go as a way to fill the time. i have the money, so why not, you know? but if i’m being honest, i was going to japan this time because i didn’t have a reason to stay here. and… now i do.”

he swallows tightly, chancing a glance at jeongguk’s face to gauge his reaction. when all he sees is vague confusion and shock, yoongi blanches, looking down to his hands as he continues. “i mean, unless i’ve totally misread the situation and am making this out to be more serious than it actually is and you’re not actually interested in anything beyond last night,” he says, voice wavering, too quick, nervous—"because i’ll totally go to japan; i like japan, i was just thinking—”

“yoongi-hyung, stop,” says jeongguk, finally, grabbing yoongi’s hands. for the first time since he met jeongguk, nerves burst within yoongi, leaving him uncertain and unsure, tentatively looking up at jeongguk. he can be confident and bold when it’s all flirting, when it’s physical, when it’s fun and games, but this is—something else. it’s been a long time since yoongi actually liked someone, enough that he wanted to see them wake up in his bed and stay.

jeongguk swallows. “you want to stay here… for me?”

yoongi nods. “i like you so much, jeongguk,” he says. “at first i really just wanted to fuck you because you’re hot and flirty, but then it turns out you’re also funny and endearing and a great person, and i like spending time with you. and i know that me not leaving now is only prolonging the inevitable because i’m going to school in korea and you’re staying here in florida, and maybe giving us a few extra months to catch feelings is a terrible idea because it’ll hurt more to leave at the end of the summer, but i don’t care.” he shrugs, feeling less helpless when he sees the soft look on jeongguk’s face. “what last night taught me was that i don’t want to miss out on something good because of fear or doubt. i like you.”

that’s the simple truth of it: he likes jeongguk. and maybe he doesn’t really need anything else.

“so,” says yoongi, taking a deep breath. “if you would let me, i would love to make you some breakfast. and maybe we can go from there.” he holds his breath, terrified that jeongguk is going to say he doesn’t want that—doesn’t want to give them just enough time to get attached before they have to part ways.

but jeongguk just grins at him, the one with no trace of cockiness or teasing in it. it’s just—happy. “i would like that,” he says. “i would really, really like that.”

yoongi breathes out a sigh of relief. he’s finally made the right decision.

“okay,” he says, and then looks up at jeongguk again and feels his heart squeeze within his chest. jeongguk’s hair is fluffy and wavy, having dried from their dip in the pool last night. there are dark marks littering his neck and collarbones, ones that yoongi himself gave him. he looks a little breathless, a little uncertain, but—here. the important thing is that he’s here, and yoongi is, too, and maybe it’s only for a few more months, but that’s enough.

yoongi tugs him in by the hand, grinning as jeongguk ducks his head and they meet in the middle, lips pressing together in a gentle kiss. he still doesn’t regret waiting for it, not if he’s gotten this out of it rather than just a good fuck.

after a second, jeongguk giggles against his lips, and when yoongi kisses him again, giggles louder, until yoongi has to pull away and furrow his brows at him. “what’s so funny?”

“sorry,” laughs jeongguk. “i’m just thinking about—having to tell your parents about this.”

“you’re going to tell my parents that i blew you in the pool?”

“god, no,” says jeongguk. “i mean, just us in general. surely this is some sort of violation. i don’t know if they’ll want to continue employing me if i’m going to get distracted by you every time i clean the pool.”

yoongi slaps the side of jeongguk’s thigh in lieu of being able to reach his ass. “and you haven’t been distracted by me every time you clean the pool for the past month?”

“good point,” hums jeongguk. “i still think we need to tell them, just in case.”

“you can clean the pool every day and then just… stay after,” shrugs yoongi.

“do we fuck in the pool before or after i clean it?”

“oh my god,” groans yoongi as jeongguk giggles, dipping down to press a kiss to his forehead, between his eyes, his nose. and he can’t help thinking that it’s going to be a good summer, at least the rest of it, at least what he has here with jeongguk. and they can figure out the rest of it later. after they’re tanned and waterlogged, after jeongguk has pulled yoongi into the pool every day for the rest of the summer, dunked him, let yoongi kiss him silly under the water as though that way, they can last forever.

if yoongi can just hold his breath until the water long enough—

this summer can last forever.