Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yoongi’s senses are numbed down with cheap vodka, the only alcohol a broke university student can afford; both to pay for and intake on a weekend when assignments are due the next morning. Hoseok and Seokjin shout over the loud electronic music blaring and he’s left to spin the liquid in his glass in circles and watch.

His friends are caught up in their own world as they argue over unimportant matters with unadulterated excitement. Yoongi is more than content watching them and the people on the dance floor dancing and losing themselves in ways he never could. He’s silently sipping his vodka, mixed with something lemony, liquor washing his mouth but leaving an acidic aftertaste in its wake. It’s a small bar near campus; the liquor is fine and the atmosphere is not too chaotic. More than enough for his standards as the resident introvert.

Seokjin and Hoseok live at the dorms, so they have settled on this bar, dragging Yoongi from his small shared apartment into a table and talking about things that won’t be remembered the next time they’re here.

“A guy is coming over here,” he sees Seokjin’s lip movements, pink and blue neon lights from opposite directions illuminating his features and basically, everything else too.

“What?” Yoongi yells over the music, leaning closer to his hyung above the table.

“A guy is coming up here! He’s looking at you!” Seokjin repeats, eyeing suspiciously to Yoongi’s upper left, where a tall man with a buzzcut and an armful of tattoos is ascending into his vision.

Yoongi licks the remains of vodka off his lips, and looks up.

“Hey!” The guy yells. “Me and my friends back there-“ he points to the far left of the bar, two other men on the stools. Yoongi eyes them, squints his eyes at one of them- and even with his face covered in neon blue Yoongi can recognize Jeon Jeongguk anywhere, looking like a brand new person, almost unrecognizable to the untrained eye- new haircut, no heavy eyeliner and massive headphones, being in a club out of anywhere… but most uncharacteristic of all is him encouraging his friends to approach Yoongi and- and then daring to lock eyes with him without a trace of regret or shame? Laughing with his teeth out and slapping his friend’s shoulder like it’s funny? Damn. Yoongi pretends his heart doesn’t sink. The guy has been talking but Yoongi has not been listening, so he removes his gaze slowly from Jeongguk back to this man right here.

“-really hot, do you wanna hook up? I’ll do you real good, I promise.” He smirks with his teeth, real bright, like a real champion right there, licking his lips like he truly believes he won’t get turned down.

“I don’t know, and get an STD? No thank you.” Yoongi scrunches his nose in distaste.

Hoseok and Seokjin somehow manage to hear him, and crackle up, hiding their laughter in the palms of their hands and the cups of their drinks.

The man rubs his chin in embarrassment and shakes his head. “Just say no, you don’t need to be a bitch about it, smartass,” he sneers. Seokjin looks like he’s ready to jump the guy, Yoongi has to laugh fondly through his annoyance.

“Don’t come up to people uninvited to tell them how good you can fuck them, then no one would be a bitch about it.” Yoongi shoots back, huffing. Then the man rolls his eyes and turns around, shrugging back to his friends. Back to Jeongguk, who gives him a bro hug and a shot.

Yoongi wishes he could look away. Or perhaps look without feeling his heart double its weight in his chest.

Jeon Jeongguk, who he’s been raising since age ten, his middle school and high school best friend, the guy who has been ghosting him for more than two years after Yoongi gave him his everything when he needed him. This is how much he’s worth to him now. A hookup for one of his friends. This is the kind of guy he turned into the moment Yoongi looked away.

Yoongi wishes he was hurt over his dignity. The thing that will always pain him more is their falling apart.

2020

“Everything is fucking wrong, hyung- they hate each other, but I’m the one getting screwed over because of it. I’m always getting screwed over. I have to never see my dad again-“

“-see your dad less-“

“Whatever, just because they decided they don’t want to live together anymore? Like, does that make any sense? I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve a punishment like this, I don’t fucking deserve it! They never think about what I want, about how I feel about this situation!” Yoongi lets Jeongguk rant, commenting here and there or nodding to show he’s listening. He looks at Jeongguk hugging the elder’s living room couch pillow tightly with puffy eyes and squeezes his arm reassuringly. Jeongguk came up to Yoongi’s door after previously refusing to see anyone for a few days, and since he walked in Yoongi’s heart hasn’t lightened one bit. He hates seeing his friend hurt and upset- he has enough going on, doesn't need this too. Yoongi also can’t ignore the heart-wrenching fact that his friend has to move away, to another city altogether- three hours drive by car, Yoongi knows very well. The melancholy that this knowledge brings weighs him down even further, but Jeongguk’s grief is much greater than his; and so he pushes down his own worries to be a good friend.

“I don’t want this… it’s not fair… I don’t want to move, and I don’t want to not live with my dad, and I don’t want to not see you everyday, and I- I don’t know what I’ll do, hyung. I’m so s-scared-“ although starting off mad, Jeongguk ends up weeping against the pillow, leaving wet circles on the fabric.

“I understand why you’re scared… but you should know I’m not gonna just let you disappear. If you think you won’t text me every day you’re very wrong. You’re gonna finish high school and then go to University for dance, yeah? It’ll be good for your dance career. Moving to Seoul, I mean. You know nothing big happens in Daegu, Gguk-ah. Use the opportunity for good. Make yourself big. Maybe we’ll meet and I’ll be in my second year, maybe we could even room together, yeah?”

Jeongguk nods but keeps crying. He doesn’t stop for a few good hours. Yoongi understands, lays his hand over his back in comfort and lets him let it all out.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Thank you for agreeing to leave early for me.” Yoongi sighs when they’re all seated in Seokjin’s car, being the designated driver of today. He buckles his seatbelt.

“Is something wrong? I mean, usually drunk fuckboys don’t get you too bothered…” Seokjin asks, his voice careful, words chosen wisely. It’s true. Yoongi wouldn’t have asked to leave if it weren’t a big deal for him. He doesn’t want to seem full of himself, but this scenario has happened too many times to count- his friends blame it on how accommodating he is, a little too lenient with people who are clearly no good, that mouth of his appearing like somewhat of a challenge. He wishes having shameless innuendo sent his way was what’s bothering him right now. That would make things a lot easier. He doesn’t think he’ll get rid of the heaviness in his body anytime soon, not even if he downs two soju bottles by himself when he gets home.

“I don’t care about the stupid guy. His friends, one of them, was Jeongguk-ah. My dongsaeng who I talk about sometimes.” Yoongi sulks over his words, a frown taking over. He feels his muscles tense up and his breath come out uneven against the car window as he watches the silent dark streets pass by. The white noise of the street buzzes in his ears, the club’s blasting music only a slight beat in the background now.

“You mean ghosting you since 1978 Jeongguk? Sad emo-boy Jeongguk?” Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Hyung, those are first years I know by name. You know what that means- you know when I know someone’s name it means something. These are, like, the dumbest fuckboys of first year art department. Your disappearing emo dongsaeng Jeongguk is first year Golden Jeongguk. I can’t believe it.” Hoseok seems to sober up, pushing his dark hair back and cupping his own cheek with the other hand. He leans forward from the back seat to look at Yoongi. “Hyung he- he fucked half the art department. Not a rumor. He and his friends publicly counted. They’re pigs.”

Yoongi leans over his lap, elbows digging into his thighs and head in his hands, fingers grasping at blond strands. He’s getting a major migraine from hearing all of this. From having to accept his Jeongguk had turned into this.

“I need to get home and sleep on it.” Yoongi sighs. “Please take me home, hyung.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When Yoongi gets to his apartment, he’s greeted by the worried expression of his roommate Jimin, in a purple apron and with an unidentifiable sauce on his cheek.

One sight of the elder, and he points at the living room couch with intent. “Down, down, sit down and tell me what happened to make my hyung’s face do this sad puppy expression.”

Yoongi sighs, throwing his jacket over the couch and plopping down heavily to sit. “What did you cook? It’s midnight and you have red sauce on your face.”

“Don’t avoid the question, hyung! I made pasta, Italian style, and it’s very delicious, thanks. Now tell me what’s up.” Jimin rolls up his sleeves. “Do I need to bring my 8 years of kendo in use? Anyone’s ass to kick?”

“Are you my mom, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi stares blankly back at him.

“Tell me.” He pushes, leaning down next to him on the couch. “You know I’m going to sulk and ignore you tomorrow out of spite if you don’t.”

“I wish you were fucking joking…” Yoongi huffs, pushing his hair off his forehead, messy blond strands sticking in odd angles. “Fine. You know how I have this dongsaeng who’s my childhood best friend and suddenly stopped contacting me over the last two years? Well. I just saw him today at the bar. And he was having a blast sending his gross friend over to ask if I wanted to fuck ‘cause he could do me real well.”

Jimin hums in thought, nose scrunching in distaste. "Not that it’s an excuse but- what if he just didn’t recognize you?” he suggests, sitting next to Yoongi throwing his thigh over his lap.

“Jimin, I looked the same two years ago. My mom says I shrink whenever she sees me. He’s the one who changed. Where’s the emo cut now?” Yoongi throws up his hands in frustration. “huh? Asshole, I could see his fucking forehead, Jimin-ah. Not a phase, my ass. I bet he listens to lil pump while he grinds on girls in his mom’s house while she’s at work.” Yoongi’s voice shakes, “fuck- I bet he doesn’t even dance anymore.”

“You seem to care about him a lot,” Jimin replies softly.

“We’ve been best friends since he was ten, and from then on we saw each other every single day. Then his parents got divorced and he moved to Seoul. He knew I got into this university, yet he was accepted this year and didn’t even drop a text. I sent him a happy birthday, and he ghosted me! I couldn’t even fucking fathom how- how we disconnected this quickly- now I fucking get it. Moving away so suddenly just ruined him. I’m so fucking sad.”

“Hyung…” Jimin smiles sadly, petting his hair. “If he’s an asshole, it was his choice to become one. And if he feels bad about treating you like shit, he’ll apologize for it. If he doesn’t, fuck him. You don’t need him in your life. This is all for the better.”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, throwing his head back on the couch. “I feel like my body is itching to just do something about it. Confront him. Punch him. Tell him he’s an ungrateful piece of shit. I don’t know. Something.”

“Well,” Jimin smiles sadly, “you’ve had some to drink and you’re upset and hurt. Plus, a really nasty guy came up to you.” He scrunches his nose. “So I think it’s expected that you feel like this. If you wake up in two days and still feel this way- find him and tell him what you think. If not, it isn’t worth it. What doesn’t matter after 48 hours doesn’t matter at all.”

“Why do I feel like you’re giving me relationship advice…” Yoongi groans, throwing his arm over his eyes to hide his face.

“I am,” Jimin teases. “It’s about time you hear my wisdom, hyung. One too many heartbreaks over fuckboys you thought were nice. Been there, done that.”

“That’s fucking depressing, Jimin-ah.” He sighs.

“It gets better,” He shrugs. There are a few beats of silence until Jimin jumps- “Do you want to taste the pasta?”

“Yeah, sure.” He could help a distraction.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It doesn’t take Yoongi much to break.

The next morning he mentally apologizes to Jimin as he types into his phone.

To: hoseokkie
[12:33] I know this is weird
[12:34] But do you know what jeongguk studies, specifically where can I find him on campus?

From: hoseokkie
[12:35] hyung…..
[12:35] bad idea

To: hoseokkie
[12:36] im not going to do anything weird
[12:36] I just wanna talk
[12:36] can't stop overthinking this

From: hoseokkie
[12:39] fine :( be careful!! he's my junior in dance, room 22B in the left wing of art dep. practice starts @1 hurry up.

Yoongi doesn’t feel relieved at having found his required intel. Rather than that- he's nervous shitless and his hands are clammy as he wanders the halls of the left wing of the university's art department. He hopes to find comfort in the fact that Jeongguk hasn't quit his one and only passion in life, that he’s still dancing, still following his dreams even if Yoongi was robbed of being there to support him. Holds onto the hope that if he still dances, he couldn’t have changed that much, right? It doesn't quite work, not when Jeongguk’s smirk at his friends the night before passes through behind his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expects, but room 22B's door is wide open and while he feels a rush of ambition to finally talk to Jeongguk- he can also see the two men Jeongguk was with at the bar standing next to him. Their presence gives Yoongi sudden outbursts of doubt. They're both most likely assholes, this would make talking to Jeongguk alone ten times harder, and suddenly, you know maybe it doesn’t bother him that much. Maybe he can wait- maybe if he thinks it through again until tomorrow Jeongguk's friends and his ridiculously sculpted jawline as he laughs with his familiar yet far-away bunny teeth on display- maybe those wouldn’t intimidate him tomorrow. Maybe.

He takes the first step to turn away from the room-

"Yoongi-hyung! Hey!" A high-pitched voice calls in the dead quiet of the hallway. Yoongi's heart stops beating for a second as he looks up, and he isn’t the only one- Jeongguk's head lifts up at Jimin's abrupt calling too and their eyes meet for a millisecond that lasts about a year. In that frozen moment Yoongi only sees Jeongguk. Handsome face, big Bambi eyes, parted chestnut brown hair, a sweat-soaked T-shirt and sweatpants. The scary part isn't seeing Jeongguk. Rather than that, it’s Jeongguk seeing him. It’s this new version of Jeongguk seeing him.

The moment is over just as quickly as it started, Jimin grabbing Yoongi's arm in greeting and starting a conversation that Yoongi is only half listening to.

"What are you doing around here? Didn’t you say you're off class at twelve today?" Jimin asks, a pleasant expression on his face that suffices to calm Yoongi's overridden nervous system down. Jimin drags him away from room 22B. It's relatively quiet in the halls, his and Jimin's shoes making the most noise, but in Yoongi's head there's a mess. The most prominent thought is a replay of Jeongguk's deer-like eyes when their gazes met. Unlike at the bar, this time there was genuine emotion in them. Yoongi just can't exactly point his finger at what it was.

"Uhm… yeah, I was looking for someone but, eh, nevermind." Eyes on the floor and frown set tightly over his features, he's sure Jimin can easily tell he's bluffing, but he doesn’t push- just nods and starts off a conversation about their day. Bless Jimin. Yoongi doesn’t know if he can even answer properly if asked about what just happened.

The only thing he knows is that he suddenly doesn't want to see Jeongguk ever again. At least not until another mental pep-talk to get his cowardly ass into shape.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It seems life isn’t asking Yoongi what he wants, but rather forces its decisions onto him. The following week after The Incident, as Yoongi calls it in his head, he’s been avoiding the art department at all costs. His nervous system tells him he doesn’t want to meet Jeongguk ever again, that he isn’t worth it. And yet, even with all the active avoidance, Yoongi has managed to almost run into him three times the past week, after a whole term in the same university without bumping into the other once.

Luckily, Yoongi’s particularly skilled in going unnoticed.

The fourth time, though, he isn’t so lucky.

It isn’t directly Jeongguk who bumps into him, no, but Yoongi just might have preferred it if it were him.

He’s being forced by Jimin to visit Hoseok in the dance studio so they can head off for lunch, after Yoongi’s adamant avoidance of the art building had excluded him from the previous week’s brief get togethers.

“C’mon, Yoongi-hyung, this isn’t negotiable. You’re coming.” Jimin’s grip on his hand is relentless, so Yoongi just whines and lets himself be dragged along by his friend. They don’t even manage to reach their destination, haven’t even stepped into art department grounds, when they hear them.

“Hey, Daejun-ah, isn’t that Park Jimin with the guy who rejected you at the bar? Bet you I can score him. Oi! Park Jimin-ssi! Who’s the cutie you’ve got your hands on?”

Yoongi’s got his back to them, but Jimin turns around at the call of his name. He looks at the three people behind them, sitting on a bench outside the art building drinking energy drinks out of cans. He knows who they are, just like they know his name, and he adds one and one together and understands that the third guy on the left of the group, Jeon Jeongguk, is Yoongi’s Jeongguk, his dongsaeng he’s heard all about.

Jimin keeps his eyes on them as he tells his hyung, “your Jeongguk is with them. Do you want to flip them off and walk away?”

And now, this is a conflict of interests. Yoongi’s morals tell him to destroy these men’s egos with his bare hands, while his nervous system thinks of facing Jeongguk and screams at him to bolt.

Apparently, he’s a man led by his morals.

He turns around, pushes past Jimin and walks in the direction of the three men. The only glace he allows himself of Jeongguk is when he’s far away enough. The younger boy sports a puzzled expression, doe eyes wide. Yoongi quickly returns his focus to the other two to not get caught, crouching down in front of their bench, to look at them eye-level.

His eyes are ice fucking cold, but the guy who called for him doesn’t seem to catch that, smirking and fist bumping Daejun-ah, the buzzcut guy from the bar.

“You know, looking at you guys, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think all art kids do in this school is go around swinging their dicks.” Yoongi enjoys the switch up in expressions, from cocky to scowling. He keeps his face cold. “It’s easy to recognize it as a defense mechanism to hide your lack of self worth. I guess daddy never hugged you when you were a child,” Yoongi makes a mock-sad expression, pulling his bottom lip out in a pout. “That is just unbelievably tragic. But here’s advice; when you need external validation in order to not hate yourself, going to a therapist is a lot more effective than trying to fuck anything that moves. Take care of your mental health, assholes.”

With that, he stands upright again, and walks off back to Jimin, leading him into the art building and out of their sights.

“Hyung,” Jimin whisper-yells. “I love it when you diss people. The looks on their stupid faces, god, priceless. Your Jeongguk boy looked like he was gonna fall off the bench the entire time.”

“What-“ Yoongi struggles, fidgets with his jacket sleeve as they walk down the halls. “What was his reaction?”

Jimin laughs, high off the drama, “well, first of all he definitely recognized you, hyung, I could tell by the surprise. He was just staring at you in this really intense shock, and holding down on the bench so he wouldn’t tip off, it was hilarious. You’re an icon, Yoongi-hyung. God, can’t wait to tell Hoseok-hyung and Jin-hyung all about it.”

The fifth time, well, Yoongi can’t call it bumping.

When Yoongi walks out of class, Jeongguk is standing right outside the hall, leaning on a wall with hands folded on his chest, nervously playing with his lip ring. When he notices Yoongi, he pushes himself off the wall and takes a tentative step towards him.

Yoongi has to physically force himself to not take a step back.

Jeongguk’s big eyes stare into his for a few moments, biting down on his lip ring. A lip ring!

Yoongi unconsciously takes the opportunity to really look at this new Jeongguk. From the pushed back chestnut hair to the silver on his eyebrow, ears and bottom lip. From the endless sprawl of ink on his left arm, to the broad shoulders and long legs. Jeongguk has grown in the time they weren’t by each other’s sides, and Yoongi solemnly wonders if so did he.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk blurts out eventually.

“Apology not accepted, anything else, or should I just leave?” Yoongi’s nervous system is going haywire. He’s angry and sad and hurt and- and he doesn’t know what Jeongguk wants from him after all this time. Jeongguk looks torn, but he doesn’t speak for a few moments, so Yoongi huffs and turns around to leave.

“No, wait, hyung-!”

Yoongi turns his head to look at the other man, eyes ice cold as his voice is. “I am not your hyung, Jeongguk-ssi, and haven’t been for quite a while.”

Jeongguk turns his gaze to the side, eyes blown wide, chest almost heaving. “You’re right. Y-you’re right, I don’t deserve to have you as my hyung. I just hoped-“ he catches Yoongi’s eyes, pausing. “Shit. Fuck, nevermind. Nevermind. I wanted to tell you I didn’t know it was you at the bar, that I wouldn’t have let that happen if I knew. I would have told them off, but you beat me to it.”

“I don’t give a shit about your excuses, Jeongguk-ssi. Having scumbags for friends is quite low on the long list of things you’ve screwed up between us. And for the record, the fact that you’re okay with it happening to anyone who isn’t me, tells me a lot about this new personality of yours, really good to know.”

With that, Yoongi starts to leave.

“You- you know nothing about what they’ve done for me!” Is the only thing Yoongi hears before he’s turning down the hall and is out of earshot.

2019

“Hyung, should I get my hair cut shorter, like that cut everyone has nowadays?” Jeongguk holds his dark bangs between lean fingers, head pushed back to rest against Yoongi’s living room couch, almost leaning on his hyung’s sweater clad shoulder, but not quite.

“Mm, if you want to, sure. I thought you liked when your hair covered your eyes, but if you changed your mind, then sure.” Yoongi replies cooly, eyes not leaving the checkered notebook in his hands, scribbling down formulas with bright blue ink.

Jeongguk sighs quietly. “I like my hair like this, hyung. Still, should I cut it?”

Yoongi lifts his eyes off the notebook and sends Jeongguk a puzzled look. A few moments of staring pass before his face turns solemn. “Are your classmates giving you a hard time again? Don’t go around forgetting what hyung taught you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, tapping his fingers on his knees nervously. “if I stop caring about what they say then they’ll leave me alone. Sucks that I do care. So, hypothetically, should I get my hair cut? Do you think it'll make them leave me alone?”

“Jeongguk, if you try to look like them, you’re conforming to their standards. You’re telling them their oppression is working and that they’re winning. If you want them to leave you alone, you have to show them you don’t give a damn about their opinions. If you give in now they’ll only harass you more, thinking you’re easily manipulated. Are you?”

Jeongguk bites his inner cheek, stares blankly at the still home screen of the streaming service. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. If this is some alpha male posturing bullshit, I don’t want any part in it. I’m just trying to live my life, hyung.”

“A challenging but authentic life is worth ten times a life of pretense, Jeonggukie.” Yoongi mutters, eyes focused back on his homework.

Jeongguk huffs. “Yeah, we get it, future psychology major at Seoul University.” He looks to the side, staring at the window viewing Yoongi’s front porch. “I guess I’m keeping the hair, then. Thanks, hyung.”

“Hyung is always here, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi taps Jeongguk’s arm with his pen and sends a soft smile, before turning back to work.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yoongi doesn’t really understand how for an entire year and two full semesters he hasn’t heard Jeongguk’s name uttered once in his presence, but since they’ve crossed paths it’s all he can hear about when he’s around the art department? Unfortunately, he’s enrolled in the music theory course as an elective this semester, and if you add that up to the fact his entire friend group is pretty much made up of art kids, he’s doomed to spend a commendable amount of time in the art building.

Hearing of Jeon Jeongguk’s latest one night stands really doesn’t help him with his music theory coursework that he’s currently trying to cram in the destined study hall. The row behind him, two girls are talking- and they aren’t even slightly concerned for their privacy, at least based on their loud tones.

“I’m not exaggerating, really! He just came up to me last night at unnie’s party, and he wasn’t even that drunk. It was insanely good, I can now see why he’s so popular.” They giggle.

“I heard he slept with, like, a hundred students last year. Soohee-unnie says he even had it on with her cousin, who is an acting first-year and a guy.” A quiet gasp. Yoongi shifts in his seat, trying his best to ignore the conversation and focus on his work, but it appears to be an impossible mission.

“A guy? Woah, he really is insatiable, huh? I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I think I saw him flirting with another girl not long after we fucked…”

“Based on his reputation I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Stop. Fucking. Talking. Yoongi wants to shout it out, wants to make them embarrassed enough to never repeat that conversation in public again. Instead, he shrinks in his seat and prays for their professor to arrive early just this once. He’s never been too lucky.

Suddenly there’s a third girl.

“Deoyoon-ah, Minchae-yah! Hi! How was last night? Tell me everything!”

Yoongi face-palms. He doesn’t think he can handle another minute of this without lashing out unproportionately. For the first time in his life, he wants nothing to do with Jeon Jeongguk, so why, why now of all times, does he have to bear through things like this?

He can’t help but blame Jeongguk for all of this. Him and his completely uncharacteristic fuckboy tendencies, his shamelessness, and how goddamn popular he is around this campus to have his name and unsolicited ministrations brought back to Yoongi’s helpless, unconsenting ears. It’s a bit unfathomable for Yoongi, accepting Jeongguk’s brand new personality as the popular resident fuckboy around here, contrasting against the hopeless romantic introvert Yoongi used to know and love.

Well, not anymore, he thinks to himself, shameless details of the boy’s latest hookup the backdrop to his thoughts.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Apparently, Yoongi is no longer the only one Jeongguk’s presence is haunting.

“He’s infuriating! I didn’t know a person could eye roll that many times in the span of an hour long practice! I’m older than him, where are his manners?! I know he’s a good dancer, but why does he have to be such an asshole?”

Yoongi feels like their roles have reversed, as he sits on the living room sofa and listens to Jimin go on about Jeon Jeongguk, walking in circles in their living room.

“He might be a good dancer, but so are you, Jimin-ah. You’re his senior and he should give you the respect you’re due. If his mom knew he turned out like this she’d have thrown a fit.” Yoongi mumbles back, not being able to not frown at the descriptions of Jeongguk. He's starting to get used to the idea that Jeongguk just isn’t the nice boy he used to be, and him treating Jimin badly is just sealing the deal for him. Park Jimin is an angel, and anyone who treats him badly should be met with consequences.

“The thing that pisses me off is that we could do it so well if only he would cooperate. Our dance styles compliment each other really well and there’s a reason we were paired up, but he can’t even look me in the eyes without a death glare!” Jimin huffs, frustration built up to a max.

“I mean, I don't know him well anymore, he’s practically a stranger,” Yoongi voices out his thoughts. “But I think you should talk to him and explain this calmly, no ego involved since he seems to have gained plenty, and figure out why he’s being a dick.”

Jimin sighs, coming down to sit next to his hyung on the sofa. “You’re right. I just needed to let it out first. Can’t ever imagine him being your best friend, hyung.”

Yoongi nods, an undertone of sadness in his expression. “I told you, he changed completely from when we were close. I keep hearing people talk about hooking up with him when I’m around the art department and it just hits me every time that this is the same person who daydreamed about finding his soulmate when he hears bells ring like in his favorite movie, the same person who got angry with me when I made out with a stranger on new year’s because it has to mean something, and the same person who trash-talked my ex for a year because he didn’t stay with me after sex one time. I’m better off viewing him as a stranger, because I know him just as much as the next random student does.”

“He was the one who decided to change, hyung. I hope you know it’s entirely his loss, and that you’re better off now. Sometimes friendships end and that’s okay, too.” Jimin looks at him softly. He nudges his shoulder- “If it makes you feel better, I’m definitely gonna lash out at him at tomorrow’s practice if he keeps this up.”

Yoongi scoffs. “You better. No one disrespects Park Jimin and lives.”

Yoongi might have been exaggerating, but he isn’t wrong.

When Jimin goes back to practice the next day, he forces himself into a good mood. He’s polite to Jeongguk, keeps it professional and to the point. But Jeongguk just isn’t on the same page. By the time practice is about to end, Jimin can’t hold his words in anymore.

“Jeongguk-ah, we aren’t working. Yes, we’re both good dancers but our chemistry is awful and you and I both know how important that is. For some unknown reason you clearly dislike me, and if I don’t understand why, we can’t work it out. I want this performance to go well, and I know you want that too. So please, let’s just deal with it and stop skirting around.”

“What are you talking about?” Jeongguk scoffs, wiping sweat off his neck with the wide collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who hates me. You’re doing a shit job at hiding it, too. What am I supposed to do, suck it up because you’re my hyung? Over my dead body.”

Jimin’s face distorts in confusion. “What? I don’t hate you, Jeongguk-ah. You’re the one who's been rolling your eyes at me, skipping honorifics, and getting angry at every little mistake I make with the choreography. I have been nothing but polite to you!”

“You can be polite all you want, I can see what you really think about me.” Jeongguk moves his gaze to the side, hands crossing on his chest, jaw set.

“What, that you’re a brat? Of course I’d think that about you when the first time we meet you call me Jimin-ah, knowing fairly well I’m your hyung!” Jimin’s frustration is starting to show as his tone raises.

“Yeah I fucking knew!” Jeongguk spits out. His face turns distant, eyes glazing over just the slightest so Jimin almost doesn’t notice the shift. “But you know, apparently honorifics are for people who deserve them.”

Jimin’s jaw drops at the implication.

“Excuse me? I’ve officially met you two days ago, what could I possibly have done to lose your respect?!” Jimin lets out an exasperated huff. “As if I need it! Disrespecting me just makes you look like a spoiled child.”

“Yes, we get it, you’re older than me, so fucking what?”

Jimin loses his patience and snaps. “And apparently I make much better life choices, too, instead of just forcing my way on everyone and ignoring the consequences.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it! I knew this wasn’t really about dance. You think you’re doing him a favor- treating me like this, don’t you?” Jeongguk’s gaze into Jimin’s eyes is livid and intense- “You think I deserve this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin sighs, trying to be the voice of reason in this conversation. “I’m just trying to tell you you’re going to have to grow up if you want to get a good grade on this performance.”

“Stop pretending now, will you? You know exactly what this is about.”

Jimin runs his hand through his hair in frustration as he tries to figure Jeongguk out. His hands find themselves on his hips with a puzzled realization. “Are you- is this about Yoongi-hyung?”

“Oh, so you’re admitting it now!” Jeongguk laughs cynically, lacking any traces of humor. He points his finger accusingly at the shorter man. “Great, so don't come at me saying I’m the one who disrespected you from the start.”

“Jeongguk-ah, how the hell is Yoongi-hyung related to us not getting along?”

“He told you about it and you’re trying to get back at me! You think you’re helping him out, trying to put me in my place.” Jeongguk takes a step forward, voice turning from defensive to vile. “Well, he’s got a nice little mouth on him, Jimin-ah, and he doesn’t need his boyfriend running errands for him.”

Jimin freezes at the reply, mouth agape, so many things just plainly incorrect, so blatantly assumed in the younger’s words. His reply back is cool and measured- “Let’s get a few things straight, Jeongguk-ah. First of all, I am not dating Min Yoongi, he's one of my closest friends and my roommate. Second of all, I will never go against Yoongi-hyung’s back, not even if I think it’s for his own good, because he trusts me, and he knows what’s best for him. Third of all, knowing what I know about your history does not in any way affect the way I treat you. I'm a professional, thank you very much. My only interest is perfecting this performance. Currently, you’re just an immature guy who’s making baseless assumptions. You’re a great dancer, okay? So, please, grow up, be professional, let’s put this aside and make this performance work.”

Jeongguk is staring at his feet through the studio’s mirror, silent, biting at his inner cheek. He doesn’t reply, not for a while. He doesn’t meet Jimin’s eyes either.

Jimin breaks the heavy silence with one quiet comment, voice almost as low as a whisper. “If you cared that much about him, like you act you do, you wouldn’t have ignored him for two years. You sound like you’re expecting backlash now that you’ve met again, but Yoongi-hyung is kindhearted and forgiving. If you don’t get closure, you'll end up the only one angry.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jeongguk snaps- but his anger is layered with unmistakable misery. “No one is angrier than I am and it- it shouldn’t be like this. He should hate me, he should send his friends to get back at me, he should have punched me right in the face that day at the bar- that’s what I would have done. But he didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t do a thing but remind me I hold no space in his world anymore.”

Jimin frowns at the honest regret in the other’s tone, so used to defensiveness and bitterness from him. “You can’t possibly hold it against him, Jeongguk-ah…”

“I don’t. He’s free to live his life without me. He deserves to. But it doesn’t mean I’m not holding it against myself.” Jeongguk replies, staring into space with his brows furrowed and his lips pursed. When the moment passes he composes himself quickly enough, clearing his throat, as if he didn’t mean to voice his thoughts out loud so honestly. “Well this has been an eventful practice, but it’s late and I’ve gotta go home to my mom. Um, I’ll see you tomorrow, uh, Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin’s pretty much gaping at him, as the other boy turns a bit red on his ears, turning around to grab his bag and rushing out. He even gives a small bow, although with a conflicted, mildly uncomfortable expression, before stepping out.

Jimin runs his hands through his hair, out of breath by the quick escalation of this conversation, and the realization that Yoongi’s advice actually worked.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yoongi has gotten used to his routine being filled with talk of a certain chestnut haired dance student. From Jimin’s bewildered descriptions of their practices, to strangers' chats and gossip, Yoongi seems to always know what the younger is up to, even without meeting him face to face for quite some time.

Usually, it’s tales of his latest one night stands at parties. Sometimes, it’s stories of irresponsible shit his friends and him do. Today, he hears the girls from his music theory class talk about a fist fight at last night’s party.

“I didn’t see it starting, but when I noticed a commotion I went to check it out and saw Jeongguk-oppa getting punched in the face by Chae Woosik from theatre. They were both really drunk, and it got pretty bloody. I saw them today at campus. Jeongguk-oppa’s pretty lips are all cut up and he’s got a nasty bruise. I hope he heals well. Rumor has it Woosik-ssi punched him because Jeongguk-oppa slept with his ex that he hasn’t gotten over yet.”

“Wow, Minchae-yah, you’re always there when there’s drama! I hope Jeongguk-oppa landed some punches too. After all, he did nothing wrong, she was single.”

“I know right? I hope she gets Woosik-ssi in line, if Jeongguk-oppa hasn’t already. But he got hit pretty badly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he barely dodged his fists...I wonder if he’s okay…”

Yoongi doodles in his notebook as he listens to his biweekly gossip sessions. He can’t help but sympathize with Minchae’s concerns. How come Jeongguk didn’t dodge? It could be the alcohol- he sure didn’t know how to hold his liquor when Yoongi last saw him drink, but he was also a virgin and sported an emo cut back then so maybe Yoongi isn’t the person to ask about this.

The subject flees his mind as the professor steps in and the lecture starts, so when it’s all done and he’s crossing the campus to get to lunch with Seokjin, he’s surprised to see Jeongguk crossing the intersection in front of him. Mostly, he’s surprised at the minor black eye and the split lip painted darkened red.

He’s calculating a route that will allow him to avoid Jeongguk at all costs, when his vision catches on a figure rushing towards Jeongguk. The man is in his own world -are those AirPods in his ears?- and doesn’t notice the other man coming close. When Yoongi notices the guy’s fist raising and rushing towards Jeongguk’s wide eyed face, he freezes. He watches Jeongguk’s upper body bend backwards with the force of the hit. There are various shrieks from passersby. Yoongi’s heart speeds up and without even noticing, his legs rush towards the scene as if on instinct only. His mind supplies him with passing memories of Jeongguk in high school, small and defenseless, getting beat and harassed on school grounds. The similarity quickly unveils itself to be not so relevant, as Yoongi nears the scene and hears the younger boy’s taunting voice.

“What the fuck, man! Did you not have enough last night, you want more?!”

The man grabs Jeongguk from the collar of his shirt, gritting out of his teeth- “when you regret being a fucking manwhore and sleeping with my girl, then I’ll have enough”- before sending another punch to Jeongguk’s face.

Yoongi scans over the other man. No visible bruisings, no marks evident from last night’s brawl except for bloody fists. Jeongguk’s pained groan sinks Yoongi’s heart down to his stomach.

“G-go on, if you want me to regret fucking her y-you’re gonna have to work a lot harder than this.”

Jeongguk’s words seem to reel the other man- Woosik?- in, and the latter doesn’t keep his fists to himself. Yoongi is almost running, brain fogging with worry and adrenaline and confusion. When he reaches them, he puts himself between the two men and pushes Woosik backwards by the chest.

“Calm the fuck down!” Yoongi shouts, pushing him again until he’s a fair distance away. Behind him, he hears Jeongguk let out a low laugh. “Your ex can fuck whoever the hell she wants! Punching the life out of him won’t bring her back to you and this disgusting macho show off just makes you look stupid. Go reflect on why she broke up with you instead of projecting your anger and blame onto someone else!”

“Who the hell even are you?”

Yoongi ignores the question, turning around to face Jeongguk, who is twirling his lip ring with his tongue, looking nothing more than cocky as he stares at his attacker. Yoongi pushes him back by the arms, just in case Woosik loses his temper again.

“Came to take his place, now? Gonna punch me too? If I were you, hyung, I wouldn’t let myself walk out of here conscious.”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens at the comment, allows its meaning to wash over him. Instead of replying, he grabs Jeongguk’s forearm with rigid hands and a scowl, drags him out of the now crowded intersection, and into the nearest building in search of a bathroom. Once they’re inside, Yoongi wastes no time and shoves toilet paper into Jeongguk’s bleeding nose, angling his head upwards.

He wordlessly wets a few more pieces in the sink, thinking of reaching the soaked paper to Jeongguk’s bloody face himself but eventually deciding against it. He puts it in Jeongguk’s hand instead.

“Clean your face, you’re filled with blood.” He speaks, almost inaudibly, arms crossed on his chest.

It’s quiet, and the air feels like it’s still and heavy. Jeongguk takes his sweet time picking the wet paper towels to his face, busy studying Yoongi’s expression like it’s a riddle he just can’t solve.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks, voice hard and laced with unadulterated vulnerability.

“I’m a proper human being, Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi replies back, facial expressions stoic and closed off.

“Jeongguk-ah? Not Jeongguk-ssi today?” Jeongguk’s hopeful wide eyes stare at him even through the nasty black eye and various fresh bruises decorating his skin.

“You’re beat up and bleeding, I’m not going to correct your honorifics right now. Don’t get used to it.” Yoongi retorts, watching Jeongguk’s hopefulness turn into cold understanding in milliseconds, jaw clenching.

“Right. Of course. Well, I should go, ‘cause your help isn’t needed here anymore, and I’m not really worth your time.” Jeongguk supplies as an answer. He nods to himself- mostly to take in Yoongi’s reaction to his reply: confused, contemplative- and walks past him in the direction of the exit. He doesn’t make it much closer to the door before his legs get caught in one another, and he goes flying forward. Yoongi’s quick on his instincts and catches his bicep before he can really tumble down, but the remaining embarrassment is present and horrifying.

“Mhm, you sure couldn’t use any help.” Yoongi snorts as Jeongguk straightens himself on his feet, cheeks red. “You’re also still bloody.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Yeah well, everyone is going to be talking about me getting the shit beat out of me, might as well look the part.”

“At least put something cold on your bruises,” Yoongi pushes.

“Let it fucking bruise,” Jeongguk chuckles dryly. “Let it hurt so bad I have to sleep on my back today. I don’t fucking care, either way. I’m going to class.”

Yoongi frowns. He doesn’t care? How can he not care if he’s in pain or not? He remembers the one-sided fistfight, the girls from music theory class blaming the lack of self defense on the alcohol. “Why didn’t you dodge?”

The question catches Jeongguk just by the exit. He turns around to look at Yoongi and the shadows make the unnatural colors in his complexion seem even more daunting, blood from his nose staining his shirt.

“Some people deserve a good beating, Yoongi-ssi.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As Yoongi sits down on the chair opposite of his hyung, twenty minutes late to their lunch and wearing an apologetic smile, he explains the latest occurrence with bewilderment tracing every bit of his expression.

“Yoongi-yah, you should be careful. You have a tendency to want to take care of everyone. Yes, you’re a good person, but this guy really hurt you and you shouldn’t forget it.”

“I’m not forgetting anything, hyung- but he was beat up and, and it reminded me of old times and I got protective. I still remember him dropping me out of the blue, and of how devastated I was. I can’t forget that. Still, I don’t want to be an asshole. I can’t just walk away when I see him get punched.”

“If I were you, I would have walked away.” Seokjin says with finality, his lips pursed, hands fiddling with the straw on his peach soda.

“Don’t say that, hyung, you don’t mean it…”

“If I see someone who hurt me get punched, who abandoned me in favor of a couple brainless fuckboys, who threw away the friendship we had in exchange for popularity and the thrill… I’d have walked away. I would have called it karma and went on with my day. People who don’t care about screwing you over don’t deserve your empathy, Yoongi-yah.”

“Aren’t you being too mean, hyung?” Yoongi asks, quiet, his thoughts messy and confused. People tend to have reasons behind their actions, so Jeongguk must have some kind of explanation, right? He knows him- knew him, and he isn’t- wasn’t, the type of person to sacrifice such a big part of his life for temporary ego boosts and adrenaline rushes. He’s a good kid, Yoongi’s brain insists, but as an afterthought he remembers- at least he was.

“I’m just explaining it so you could see it the way it really is. I’m thinking of the worst case scenario, Yoongi-yah, because I care about you and don’t want you to get hurt again. It’s just my advice- you shouldn’t get involved with him again. It’ll just make him think he can throw you away whenever he wants with no consequences.”

“You’re right, I-“ Yoongi purses his lips, fingers tightening around his cup of americano. “I appreciate your concern, Jin-hyung… I’ll, I’ll try to keep it in mind.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yoongi looks at the clock. 18:31.

Should he wait a little longer? What’s taking Jimin so long? He’s parked not that far away from the art department, maybe a few minutes walk. Could something have happened to him on the way here?

Yoongi’s knee jolts repeatedly, hands gripping the wheel as he considers his options. It’s been thirty minutes since Jimin should have gotten here, and he isn’t picking up his phone. Should he wait a few more minutes before heading up to see where he is? Should he go up now, to ease his nerves?

Fuck it, he thinks, and steps out of the drivers seat, locking the car. It really does take him five minutes to go up to the third floor of the building, where Jimin’s destined practice studio is located. When he gets closer, his nerves subside- hearing Jimin’s laughter echo through the halls, along a louder one, distantly familiar.

“No, I don't look like that! I’m graceful and sensual, thank you very much!”

Yoongi stands by the doorframe, eyes wide as he watches the scene in front of him unfold.

“I swear you do! When you do this move-“ none other than Jeon Jeongguk stands up from his position on the floor to throw his elbows up, folded to the sides of his head, and twirls gracefully on one leg. His sweat-patched oversized shirt twirls with him, exposing a lean waist. “-you look like a little chick, Jimin-hyung. Your blond hair flies around your head, oh my god, it’s hilarious!”

Jeongguk is folded over in laughter, slapping Jimin’s back as he sits back down, before laying down starfish style on the cool floor.

“I do not! It’s supposed to look angelic, you’re so rude Jeongguk-ah!” Jimin slaps the other’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t let me start talking about you! Do I need to bring up how embarrassed you get when your shirt lifts up? As if half the department hasn’t seen you naked before!”

Yoongi frowns at Jimin’s insensitivity, expecting a defensive answer from the younger man, but all he hears is a loud laugh. He watches with a frown as Jeongguk’s chest rises and falls with it- “Yah! Half the department? You think I’ve got a magic dick or something?” Jeongguk turns his head to face Jimin with a smirk. “Make that a quarter.”

The both of them burst into laughter, Jimin leaning back on his palms. “Yah, do I really look like a baby chicken doing that move? You wanna monitor me to fix it before we leave? What time is it even?”

Jimin’s eyes search for his bag with his phone and find Yoongi’s awkward frame in the doorway instead.

“Oh- hyung!”

The moment Jeongguk’s smiling eyes catch Yoongi’s silhouette, the spark is gone from them in an instant, replaced by stiffness and a closed off stare at his feet.

“Um. It’s six thirty and you weren’t picking up your phone, so I got worried.” Yoongi explains, the awkwardness seeping off him in waves as he focuses on passing his fingers through the fair hairs on the back of his head.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice the time, me and Jeongguk-ah were practicing our choreography! Let me just grab my bag-“ Jimin lifts himself off the floor, hurrying to his bag in the front of the small studio, and to Yoongi’s side. He turns to Jeongguk and waves, snickering- “bye, Jeongguk-ah! Let’s work on my chicken move next time. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Jeongguk nods, lifting himself off the floor with the cognitive fluency of a tween during puberty, avoiding a look of the third man in the room like the plague.

The walk to the car is silent, mostly being Yoongi’s fault. As they take their seats in the car and secure their seatbelts, Yoongi lets out an exhale, and asks- “are you- I didn’t know you were close?”

Jimin cringes a bit, chuckling. “Well, I thought you might be a little uncomfortable with that. And also, it’s quite recent. I took your advice and talked to him that day, and since then practice has been so much fun. He’s- away from his dumbass friends, he’s a fun guy.”

Yoongi’s puzzled expression doesn’t pass by Jimin. “I’m sorry, it’s just a little weird for me. Don’t mind me, I’ll- uh, get used to it, or something.”

Jimin laughs softly. “We don’t have to share all our friends, hyung, don’t worry about it. You won’t even run into him, I swear.”

Yoongi nods at that, before starting the engine and driving them both home.

2018

There’s a silence in the room that prickles at Yoongi's skin and sinks his heart into his chest. He desperately needs his hands to stop shaking with anxiety, as he holds the soft damp cloth onto the pair of bloody lips staring back at him from his lap.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed, head resting in his hyung’s comfortable lap, and except for the visually alarming bruises on his face, he seems at peace. Every few moments, when Yoongi presses down onto his busted lip to stop the bleeding, he’d let out a hiss, but quickly return to his content expression.

When Yoongi deems his work done, he grabs an ice pack and places it gently on the boy’s swollen bottom lip.

“Okay, this has to sit for a while. In the meantime, you’re going to tell me exactly what happened.” Yoongi half-whispers, voice airy and weak- the effect of seeing his closest friend hurt and bleeding.

Jeongguk lets out a whine of displeasure, but obliges under his hyung’s request anyway. His voice is muffled through the ice pack on his lip. “It’s these guys from school, y’know, those who mess with me all the time.” Jeongguk opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling, his casual tone betraying the words he’s speaking. “They were throwing insults, so I told them to fuck off. It didn’t work out very well for me.”

“What were they saying to you? Did you call for a teacher?” Yoongi asks, heart heavy in his chest. He presses the ice pack tighter against the wound.

“Just some stuff. Don’t wanna repeat it.” Jeongguk frowns, shutting his eyes as he continues, “It’s more embarrassing though because Sungmin-hyung was there. He’s the one who made them back off. He heard everything, I wanted to bury myself alive, hyung.”

Yoongi hums to signal his attention. “Thank him for me, for being there to help. He must be a good guy.”

Jeongguk sighs dreamily. “He’s the best, hyung. All warm smiles and pretty words. Every time I see him, my brain goes- this is what being alive feels like.”

Yoongi smiles, eyes crinkling soft and fond, brushing the younger’s overgrown bangs out of his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that, Gguk-ah. I love hearing about good people around you. You deserve more of those. But I’ve gotta say, I think you watch too many romantic dramas.”

“Ah, hyung, I gotta live through someone, don’t I?” The younger grins, before it turns into a sad smile. ”I wish he liked me back, but that’s such a far-fetched fantasy. I’ll just keep liking him from afar.”

“What makes you think he doesn’t? Is he straight?” Yoongi raises a brow in question, pressing the ice pack tighter against the younger’s lip.

“I’m not sure. But I could never tell him, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the rejection. Plus, he’s a senior and a really popular guy, hyung, I’m sure you’ve seen him around. No way he’d see me that way, not while knowing I’m the seniors’ laughing stock slash punching bag.”

“Stop talking about yourself like that,” Yoongi insists. “If he sees you like that then I take back what I said, he’s just as dumb as the rest of them.”

Yoongi takes off the ice pack, already a bit melted now, and touches the wound with his thumb. Cold and numb to the touch. Jeongguk doesn’t flinch, so he takes that as a good sign. He moves the ice pack to the purple-ish bruise on the younger’s chin from where a fist met delicate skin.

“I’m starting to think you’re the only good guy out there, hyung.” Jeongguk muses out loud, gazing into nothingness.

Yoongi chuckles. “I don’t think my exes would agree, but thanks anyway.”

Jeongguk raises his brow. “Please, hyung, you always end up dating people who are a little messed up. It’s like you wanna fix them, or something.”

“I’ve got that issue, yeah. I get a bit overbearing, that’s what most of my exes say. That I coddle and try too hard to help.” Yoongi smiles, a bit embarrassed,

“I like it when you help, hyung. It’s not overbearing at all.” Jeongguk whispers, staring into Yoongi’s abashed eyes. “It’s comforting, that I always have you to fall back into if I need it.”

Yoongi smiles down at Jeongguk, who takes in the fondness in his gaze and switches the subject faster than Yoongi can voice a reply.

“Anyway, Sungmin-hyung is definitely a good guy. I’m not sure how to stop liking him. I think I’ll just keep it up, since seeing him is the only thing that makes school worth it, nowadays.” Jeongguk rambles on. “I know he’s dated girls before, but that doesn’t have to mean he’s straight, right? I shouldn’t assume. It’s rude to assume. And he’s always so kind to me when everyone else is an asshole. It could be his personality, it really could mean nothing, but it could also mean something-“

“Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi interrupts, a sad knowing smile on his lips at hearing the younger ramble about meaningless things, as he tends to do when he gets nervous and caught up in his own head. A fruitless attempt to distract himself from his thoughts. “I hope you know, you don’t deserve the way they treat you. Anyone who lays a hand on you that isn’t filled with love is a goddamn disgrace, and if you would only agree to tell me who they are, I’d make sure they regret it. Since you don’t want to share that with me, I’ll just have to stay here and make sure that you know, that not for a second in your life did you deserve to be treated like this. You’re soft in a really hard world, but there’s power in that. You’re really strong, Jeongguk-ah, for not stooping to their level. I’m proud of you.”

Jeongguk looks away, cheeks tinted pink. Yoongi can tell from the embarrassment decorating his face that he doesn’t know how to properly reply to his words.

“H-Hyung, you fool, don’t call me soft, not on a day I’m wearing eyeliner and combat boots, it ruins the aesthetic.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Thanks for the ride, Seok-ah. Don’t forget to keep the screws in case you ever need a spare again.” Yoongi pats Hoseok’s shoulder in the driver’s seat and takes off his seatbelt, his and Jimin’s apartment’s entrance just up front.

“Of course, thank you for propping those shelves up for me, hyung. I would have totally screwed them in all crooked if I’d have done it myself.” Hoseok lets out his signature contagious laugh. “I’ll call you up when the missing parts for the TV mount arrive, sorry for making you do this twice. Today's lesson is to always check all the parts are in the box.”

“It’s no problem, Seok-ah,” Yoongi replies with a smile.

Hoseok’s gaze moves to look behind Yoongi. “Hey, hyung, whose car is that?”

“Huh?” Yoongi turns around to look, and finds an unfamiliar car- spotlessly clean and jet-black, parked in his driveway. “I don't know, actually. Maybe Jiminie has friends over.”

“Oh, cool. Say hi to him from me, he hasn’t replied to my messages in three hours and that’s suspicious.” Hoseok nods to himself. Yoongi chuckles at him and shakes his head with a fond smile. With a promise from Yoongi to chastise Jimin for not replying, they say their goodbyes and make promises of drinks sometime this week. Before long Yoongi is climbing the driveway up to his door. As he passes by it, Yoongi wonders who that car might belong to. Faintly, he hears the low humming of music coming from inside. Does Jimin really have guests over?

Tentatively, he unlocks the door and steps in. He isn’t really prepared for the sight in front of him.

There’s music, a pretty slowed down R&B track, playing loud enough to be worrisome. The living room couch is pushed as close to the TV on the wall as it can go, leaving an empty space along the living room. In said empty space, two figures are dancing with grins plastered on their faces, in their own world until the sound of the door closing shut reaches their ears.

The first figure is Jimin, but the other man in his living room- that’s Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk is in his living room. He’s in his living room with flushed cheeks and a sweat-soaked shirt that’s about three sizes too large, with a smile so big his bunny teeth are in view, and with his almost healed black-eye on display, never covered by makeup, always in view. He’s in his living room and the furniture might be different and the tattoo sleeve might be new, but it’s so familiar and so odd, so odd that it makes him a bit uncomfortable, a bit shaky in his fingertips.

Yoongi tries to not feel offended with how both their faces drop into a horrified expression when they see him.

Jimin rushes to stop the music. “Hyung! I didn’t think you’d be coming back until later tonight!”

Yoongi’s eyes move from Jimin’s worried gaze to Jeongguk’s sudden paleness. From Jeongguk’s stiff body language, back to Jimin’s apologetic grimace.

“Hoseok-ah will call me back sometime this week, since some parts for the TV mount were missing.” Yoongi explains, doesn’t even try to hide his shell-shocked expression at the absolutely absurd scenario taking place right in his living room. “Um. Are you practicing here, or-?”

“Ah, yes. Our studio has a weird leak that will only get taken care of tomorrow, and we didn’t want to skip practice. I'm sorry, I was sure you’d be out.” Jimin purses his lips.

“Um,” Jeongguk clears his throat, looking at Jimin and no one else. “I’ll- I’ll just head out. We’ve done enough practice for today anyway and-“

“We, um, ordered food, Jeongguk-ah.” Jimin’s expression tells Yoongi he’ll definitely, definitely make it up for him after this is all over. “Maybe you could eat with us, hyung? If you want?”

“Um…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck. Before he can answer, their doorbell rings.

Jeongguk jumps, squeaking out- “it’s the food, I’ll get it!”- taking any opportunity to escape the awkward hell he’s gotten himself into.

While Jimin and Yoongi are left alone, they share a silent conversation with their eyes.

Jimin pulls his eyebrows in, lips jutted out in a pleading pout.

“Ah, fine. Fine.” Yoongi whisper-yells at the younger, whose relief is immediately evident on his face.

Jimin mouths a quick ‘thank you’ before Jeongguk returns with two bags of takeout and places them hesitantly on the table. Him and Jimin pull the couch and table back to their rightful place in the center of the room, settling down next to each other on the couch. One with the ease of a person who bought this couch, and the other with the awkwardness of a thirteen year old. Jimin pats the space next to him on the couch for Yoongi to take.

Yoongi’s hand doesn’t leave the line of his nape as he waddles his way to the couch, and sits down with both his hands on his knees.

As Jimin opens up the takeout bags, Yoongi takes the chance to steal a glance at Jeon Jeongguk on his living room couch; hair sticking to his forehead in sweaty chunks, shoulders pulled inwards in his large shirt. He's way too oversized for the space he is trying to occupy- knees pulled together, elbows aligning with the line of his thighs. The way Jeongguk is built these days -muscles over muscles- it's not easy to fold that into half its width, yet Jeongguk seems to be holding himself in just that space, as if comfort is a luxury he has yet to earn. Yoongi looks away before he can get caught staring.

Jimin pulls a few boxes of fried chicken out, laying down the sauces in reach of both his friends. “Dig in! We bought a lot, hyung, so eat up!”

Jeongguk is hesitant to reach for the food, and so is Yoongi. Eventually, when Yoongi gets over the initial embarrassment, because, hey, this is his house, his hand reaches the bowl of fried chicken.

He only notices Jeongguk’s hand when their fingers brush.

Jeongguk immediately pulls his hand back into his lap as if burnt, face three shades redder than it was a few minutes ago. Yoongi’s fingers twitch over the bowl, almost feeling a tingle of a ghost of the contact, before he gives in and just grabs a piece anyway. His heart really shouldn’t be beating this fast over a goddamn brush of fingers, but- fuck, this is so awkward he’s starting to sweat.

Jeongguk waits, sitting stiffly in his place until he sees the piece of fried chicken enter Yoongi’s mouth before he musters up the nerves to reach for one for himself.

They put on a romantic drama Jimin has been watching lately, too cheesy and cliche for Yoongi’s tastes, but sufficient enough to distract from the revolting awkwardness. Yoongi eats in utter silence, overly aware of Jeongguk’s every move, cautious to not bump their hands together when he’s taking another serve, like his life depends on it.

Jimin has never been the quiet type, though,

“Jeongguk-ah, you said you already watched this one, right?”

Jeongguk fidgets, finishing his food before answering shyly, barely a whisper, but audible in the quiet room- “I, um, watched it last year when it was released. It has a nice ending.”

“Really?! Oh I’m so relieved. I can’t handle sad endings. The main couple is so sweet, but it’s already the eleventh episode and they still haven’t kissed. I got worried. Yah, what episode are they going to kiss?”

Jeongguk is still red faced as he replies- “I’m- I’m not gonna tell you that, hyung!”, before returning to bite on another chicken drumstick.

Yoongi listens to the conversation with a bit of disbelief. He feels like he’s watching this scenario from outside his body, rather than sitting right here next to the two. Jimin and Jeongguk are having a casual conversation about dramas on a serving of fried chicken in Yoongi and Jimin’s living room. In what world? If anyone would have told him this would happen two months ago, he’d be laughing out loud.

“Okay okay, don’t spoil it. I’ve been watching it for a few days now, but Yoongi-hyung always complains that it’s boring. Glad to have someone who appreciates a good romance.”

Jeongguk shifts in his seat, biting at the side of his cheek. He whispers, “Yeah, he never liked those dramas.”

There’s a stretch of silence after that. The reality of Yoongi and Jeongguk’s history making itself evident in a room of people trying to outright ignore it.

Yoongi’s eyes stray to his left, and he meets Jeongguk’s ones for a long second before looking away.

To Jeongguk, it seems to mean something.

The younger stares at the TV with a far away expression. “We used to have an agreement. For every drama he watches with me, I watch a Tarantino film with him. For every romance anime, we watch an action one. And while I enjoyed action scenes, Tarantino was just a bit too violent for me. I used to hide my face when things got too bloody. Of course, violence isn’t quite an issue anymore.”

Jimin’s mouth is gaping, as Jeongguk speaks, mainly to him, with the knowledge Yoongi is right there to hear it all.

Yoongi’s heart clenches in his chest. It’s that tinge of pain that he used to feel when he was hopelessly waiting for the younger man to contact him, to reach out, to show him his worries are all wrong and that he still cares about him. More prominently, Yoongi feels like Jeongguk’s words are there to reel him in. Prod him to speak, to look back, to go back in time. To remember. For some reason in his gut, he feels obligated to reply.

“You refused to watch anything that wasn’t teeth-rottingly cheesy.” Yoongi speaks before he can overthink it, copying Jeongguk’s stare at the TV. “I used to be afraid you’d get hung up on the idea of drama-like romance and end up crushed when real life happened.”

“Well, you’re rarely wrong about me.” Jeongguk muses, chuckling dryly, more to himself than to anyone else. Well, that’s a given after knowing you for practically my entire life, Yoongi’s mind supplies grumpily. He wonders, solemnly, if his gut is still right about Jeongguk, even after all this time. He wonders if the awkwardness and tension are his gut’s way of supporting Seokjin’s take on this, to get Yoongi away from a person who hurt him and might do it again.

“Hyung has always been the perceptive type. I’m also like you Jeongguk-ah. I date around, but it’s like I always give way more of myself than the other person.” Jimin takes another bite of his chicken. “Dramas make me happy, though, so I’m gonna keep watching them.”

“As long as you're happy, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi chuckles at the other boy, wiping his mouth from chicken wings sauce. “And not consuming too much romanticized media that’ll affect your view on what relationships should look like.”

“Pfft, hyung, sometimes you’re the definition of a psychology major. Am I right Jeongguk-ah?” Jimin nudges the younger one with his elbow.

“Sometimes? He told Daejun-ah and Ryeok-ah to take care of their mental health as a diss, and it worked.” Jeongguk laughs. It’s the wrong choice of reply, though, because Yoongi and Jimin go quiet at the mention of Jeongguk’s less than pleasant friends. The atmosphere plunges into tense and uncomfortable in a second, if it wasn't on the verge of it before.

“You know your friends are kind of dicks, right?” Jimin eventually says, bringing the spicy sauce closer to Jeongguk to dip his chicken wing in.

Jeongguk’s posture stiffens a bit. He dips the chicken in the sauce Jimin offers, but doesn’t take a bite. He seems contemplative, like he wants to choose his words very carefully.

“They’ve been nothing but kind to me and my family.” He eventually supplies as an answer, choosing to not elaborate, not to dive into the specifics of how he found himself in their company in the first place, not to allow the two men in his presence a snippet into his suffering at the time.

“Doesn’t make them any less of disrespectful dicks.” Yoongi mutters. He can’t lie, though, that his interest is picked at the mention of Jeongguk’s family he hasn’t heard about in just as long of a time as he hasn’t seen the man in front of him. “How- how’s your mother doing? She still works at that company?”

“Ah, no, not anymore.” Jeongguk replies casually. “She had to quit not long after we moved, when she got sick. She works from home now, at a broadcasting company.”

Yoongi frowns, finally meeting Jeongguk’s gaze in the midst of his surprise. “She got sick?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Right. Of course, how would you know… I thought maybe my dad would have mentioned it to someone-“ he chuckles, cynicism dripping from his tone. “But of course he didn’t, the useless asshole.”

Jimin gasps a little. “Gguk-ah, it’s your father, don’t talk like that-“

Jeongguk completely ignores Jimin’s horrified comment. Instead, he leans forward to look at Yoongi over Jimin’s shoulder.

“Did you know that was the real reason for their divorce?” Jeongguk’s voice drips with venom as he explains, his eyes turning dark with anger. “When she got diagnosed, he got scared and fled, leaving the divorce papers signed on the kitchen table like the coward he is. He hasn’t called since- not even once. Not even to check on her condition. I hope the guilt is eating him alive, wherever he is.”

“I- wow. I had no idea.” Yoongi speaks with shock evident in his tone, pieces of their teenage years falling into place as the new information sinks in. “How- how is your mom feeling?”

“Oh, she’s all good. Great, actually. She overcame her illness about a year ago, so.” Jeongguk nods, filling his mouth with spicy chicken. “She asks about you sometimes, and I don’t want her to know her son turned into a selfish coward as well, so I just lie and say we grew apart because of the distance.” Jeongguk chuckles with a hint of bitterness.

When he realizes the words came out of his mouth instead of staying buried in his head, he freezes, expression falling into utter panic.

Yoongi and Jimin gape at him, speechless. Jimin looks at Yoongi, and then returns to Jeongguk’s horrified expression.

Jeongguk stands up abruptly, so pale he looks on the verge of vomiting. “Right! It’s late, I-I’ll, I'll head out. I'm- thanks for letting us practice here, and, um, the chicken. Uhm, sorry for- yeah, bye.”

And he rushes for his duffle bag and almost sprints to the door.

“Wait, Jeongguk!” Jimin calls, attempting to follow him outside, but being faced with the younger already busy driving along their driveway in his car. He catches his panicked expression even through the tinted car windows. His call turns to deaf ears as the car makes a speedy left turn, and disappears out of view.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s Friday night, and Jeongguk’s hands are traveling down a stranger’s waist, mind buzzing from the loud music and the two soju bottles he’s discarded empty.

The man he’s got pinned to the wall has his lips on his and his hands in Jeongguk’s hair, holding and pulling with the rhythm of their lips and the bass of the track playing.

Over the loud music, only a few things can be heard; Jeongguk’s hammering heartbeat, his never-ending train of thought, and his friends’ crude comments from where they sit, a few meters away.

“Yah! Gguk-ah’s fuckin’ scoring tonight!”

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it, ignore it- Jeongguk repeats like a mantra in his head, moving a hand to the other man’s jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, making him sigh as he reciprocates, pushing forward, looking for less distance, more contact, more of Jeongguk.

“Oi Jeon! Quit teasing and bend him over!”

His head snaps at the comment, letting out an exhale through his nose, leaving the shorter man to chase back his lips with a questioning look. Breathe in. Breathe out, he tells himself. You can’t tell them off. You can’t tell them shit. Not when you’re no different from them.

His hand moves from the man’s jaw to lean on the space on the wall next to his head. He leans forward, letting his head drop so his lips are brushing the shell of his ear.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can go somewhere quiet.”

From Jeongguk’s slightly blurred out view, he doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Still, the reply he receives is a small bite to a reddish bottom lip, and a nod.

Jeongguk looks around, steadying himself on his feet. With a hand on the other’s waist, he pulls them through the crowd. Passing by his group of friends, he’s greeted with ear-shrieking wolf whistles and heavy pats on the back that almost make bile climb up his throat. Every cheer and snickered word of encouragement feels like a kick to his stomach, disturbing his balance and making him trip on his feet.

He doesn’t notice, isn’t focused enough to pay attention, that from the other side of the room, Min Yoongi has arrived with his friends not too long ago; his bothered eyes are trailing after Jeongguk, until the moment he disappears with the current interest of his attention into another room.

Jeongguk feels like he finally has some air to breathe when the two of them finally enter the vacant bedroom and the rest of the crowd dims out through the closed door. In the past couple of minutes it’s gotten way too hot, the air too stuffy around him, the room a bit dizzier than it should be even after two bottles. The thudding in his veins feels less like adrenaline and more like built up rage, like pent up anxiety, a ticking time bomb that he doesn’t know how to stop, just knows how to add a few more moments until it inevitably sets off.

He sits on the bed, leaning back on his palms, looking the other man up and down.

Fuck, does he need the distraction.

Jeongguk tries to force himself to not think, to simply revel in the familiarity of laying his hands on a stranger, of being wanted so unabashedly, of being treated like he’s the only person that matters, even if only for a short while.

He takes what he can, knowing it’s not something he can have for himself in the long term- no one will ever have him, the way that he is now. Not in the honest, soul crushing, unconditional way that he yearns for.

So, he has a taste of what he can’t have. He puts his hands in the man’s hair as the other runs his lips on his skin and goes down and down and down, and Jeongguk can do nothing but lift up his hips to shimmy out of his jeans, pulling them low enough for the man to settle in between his knees and- fuck, just wait. Just wait a moment longer. Until he won’t even remember what leads him to doing this every week, won’t remember a single thing except round eyes staring up at him and pretty plump lips wrapped around him and hands fisted in hair or sheets or anything that will hold him present.

The all-consuming instinct to devote yourself to the sensation is difficult to ignore, but for Jeongguk it’s his mind that doesn’t allow itself to be avoided. With the increased thudding of his heartbeat everywhere and all at once, only the most pressing matters float to his consciousness, his thoughts as unsteady as his breathing and as uncontrolled as the sounds spilling out of his mouth.

Fuck, Jeongguk thinks, and maybe even says out loud. I missed this, I missed this, I missed this, I missed this. Moments of forgetting are what he lives on, what keeps him on his feet. Because how can Jeongguk think about the disgusting way his friends act, when he’s got a guy’s lips where he needs them? How can he think of his mother’s expression when she saw him bruised up and bleeding, when there’s a tongue lapping at him in just the right places? How can he think about what a spineless, pathetic excuse-of-a-man he is, of how he’d like to destroy himself and everything he’s become and everything he’ll ever be, for just one moment of quiet— when his cock is hitting the back of this man’s throat?

Jeongguk knows, it’s going to end soon. He can feel the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, but although he’s desperate- wants it a little bit faster, he also doesn’t want to go back there for a while more. To his friends, to himself, to his reality. Unfortunately, like most other things in Jeongguk’s life, he isn’t quite in control.

When he’s thoroughly spent and almost momentarily delirious, his back hits the mattress with a thud. His hands come up to push his messy hair out of his eyes, watching his chest rise and fall with his staggered breath. His brain is foggy and slow, coming down from the high. This, he thinks, this feeling is everything. Well, everything he’ll allow himself, anyway.

When he’s back to sitting with his friends, the liquor keeps flowing. It starts with another bottle of soju and ends with an uncountable number of vodka shots off plastic cups. Daejun and Ryeok have a few other friends with them that Jeongguk recognizes but doesn’t care enough to interact with. Mostly, he’s enjoying the scene. He nods his head to the beat of the music, downs his liquor with ease, feeling it burn down his throat without thinking about the consequences. He’s never been too good at thinking about those, has he?

At some point, when he’s lost count of the amount of liquor in his system and he can’t really focus anymore, his eyes look through the crowd of people lazily, zoning out of his friends’ conversation, and they catch something familiar. Someone familiar. Someone who makes his mind go haywire and his gut prepare to empty itself right on the spot, and when their eyes meet from a distance, when Yoongi’s sleepy feline eyes look into his, Jeongguk really thinks he might throw up.

Instead, his heartbeat doubles in speed and his mouth opens up before he can think, speaking to the circle of strangers hanging out with his friends—“which one of you people is going to take responsibility, and get me shitfaced right now?”

His ears are greeted with a loud cheer, and a girl steps towards him with a bottle of vodka and a grin. She stops only when she’s standing between Jeongguk’s legs, hand tilting his head up, and pouring the liquor into his mouth straight from the bottle. Jeongguk lets his mouth fill with the burning spiciness, and when he’s got a mouthful, he turns his head to the side and swallows, vodka spilling from the bottle down his chin and onto his shirt.

When he lifts up his gaze again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, those same eyes are staring right back at him, like they never left.

Jeongguk breaks their eye contact like it physically pains him to uphold, looking around the other man. He finds Jimin right behind Yoongi, with a few other men Jeongguk can’t really focus on with the headache that’s building up, but has definitely seen around the halls of the art department.

His head is pounding, like his heart decided to nestle in his temples and beat out from there. He holds his head in his hands, pushing chestnut strands out of blurry vision. Daejun places another cup of liquor in his hand, and without a care for what he’s drinking, he pours it down his throat, crushing the plastic cup in his hand and throwing it out. Jeongguk shoves his chair backwards, standing up but almost falling back down, dizziness overtaking his senses. He pushes through, grounding himself enough to stumble his way to the closest room he can get his legs in that doesn’t have Min Yoongi in it.

Jeongguk needs to get away. He needs to leave. He needs to make sure the other man’s eyes don’t look at him for even one more second or he thinks he might lose it. He thinks he might tear himself apart.

The room he finds himself in is the kitchen, and with his head demanding immediate attention, he succeeds thinking clearly enough to shakily fill himself a glass of water. The counter top is ice cold against his palms, and he finds himself squatting down on the floor next to it to place his head on its cool side. He holds his half empty cup to his mouth, drinking small gulps of water that’ll maybe, maybe help his nausea go down.

He really, really, really, wants to disappear.

The room is spinning all around him and his head is aching, beating against the counter, and the music is suddenly so loud, and he can feel his own heavy breathing hitting the bottom of the plastic cup still uselessly hanging against his mouth as people walk around him to get to the sink.

Shit, he should go home. He should go home, he should leave, he has to leave before Yoongi-hyung sees him. Before he sees him like this, all pathetic on the floor. Because this is what Jeongguk is like now, this is what he’s become, and the only person he doesn’t want to know him this way, is him. Is his hyung. Who drank with him for his very first time, who held him close as he weeped about moving away, who texted him a happy birthday message after a year of Jeongguk’s cowardly radio silence, while he was too busy hooking up. Not that he would reply back if he weren’t, anyway, the selfish fucker he is.

But when he thinks of Yoongi he thinks of warmth, and of comfort and naïveté, of being safe and content and engulfed in care. He thinks of everything he used to have and everything he fucked up for himself, and for Yoongi. He thinks about regret, and loneliness, and suffocation. He thinks of how much he must have hurt him, how betrayed he must have felt. Of sleepless nights hovering over the ‘send’ button in the messenger app, of wishing he hasn’t made the mistakes that he has, so he could just apologize and go back to how it used to be.

But he can’t do that. He could never do that.

All he can do is keep hating himself for the person he’s become while Yoongi wasn't watching.

At some point in his self-hate montage, Jeongguk thinks he hears his name being called. He plops down to sit properly on the floor, legs resting in front of him, back against the kitchen drawers that dig into his upper back. He looks up, eyes unfocused as people move around him.

“Gguk-ah? Are you okay?”

It’s Jimin, crouching down in front of him, a worried expression on his face that Jeongguk doesn’t deserve to have directed at him.

“Mm? No, I’m good, hyungie. All good.” He slurs out, not really looking at the other man- focused on playing with the plastic cup in his hands. The plastic cup that can’t wear a disappointed expression and therefore won't aim it at him. “My head just hurts a tiny bit. I probably shouldn’t have drank everything given to me, but, you see, tomorrow I won’t even remember this, so it’s all good.”

“Jeonggukie, do you need me to call you a taxi home?” Jimin asks softly, passing him a new, full glass of water.

Jeongguk gulps it all in one go, body craving the cool liquid like it needs it in order to grasp at the minimal coherence Jeongguk’s brain is capable of right now. He shakes his head with a frown. “No, no no. Daejunie will drive me home, he always does.”

“Jeongguk-ah, your friends are just as drunk as you are…” Jimin purses his lips, sending Jeongguk one of those worried expressions he just doesn’t want to see right now.

Jeongguk huffs, “it’s good, he’s a good driver, hyung, don’t worry, we do this all the time.”

“How can I not worry when you say that?” Jimin sighs. He holds out a hand for Jeongguk to take. “Come on, get up. I’m calling a taxi for you.”

At his hyung’s assertive tone, Jeongguk gives in to the warm idea of being taken care of. He grabs Jimin’s smaller hand and pushes himself up, tumbling his way out of the house, and into the nightly chill.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s the start of the following week, and Jeongguk is making his way to the practice room, giddy that his favorite part of the day has arrived.

“Hi, Jimin-hyung!” He greets as he walks in, seeing his friend already connecting his phone to the stereo.

“Jeonggukie, hey,” he smiles at him. “How are you feeling?”

“My body is dying to let out some energy, ‘cause I didn’t leave my room the entire weekend.” Jeongguk chuckles. He notices Jimin get down on the floor and start to stretch, so he follows suit.

“Really? That’s extreme.” Jimin laughs, stretching his arms by pulling them to the opposite side. “Did you sleep in? You sure looked like you needed all the rest you could get when I saw you back at Chanwoo’s party.”

“I slept until noon and played video games all night.” Jeongguk replies, a chuckle escaping his lips. He copies Jimin’s stretches as he sees them in the studio mirror. He adds, softly, “Mom laughed at me Saturday morning and made me some hangover soup. She told me to thank you for making sure I arrived safely.”

“Of course,” Jimin’s lips are pulled into a smile that quickly turns into a snicker as his eyes focus on a spot on Jeongguk’s throat. “You’re telling me you went around your mother with that huge hickey on your neck?”

“Huh?- where?” Jeongguk’s eyes blow out as he waddles on his knees closer to the mirror, inspecting the column of his neck. It’s hard to miss, if he’s being honest. “Ah, I didn’t go out so I haven’t even looked in a mirror, shit, ah, well, she’s seen me in worse shape.”

Jeongguk tries rubbing at the red spot on his neck a bit, as if that would improve anything at all. After a moment of fretting, he gives up and goes back to his previous place next to Jimin, continuing with his stretches.

Jimin turns to face him with an incredulous expression, “Do I want to know?”

Jeongguk laughs, ears turning a bit red. “There was one time I got wasted, really wasted. I got home at, like, 4 am, and apparently I forgot to let her know I’ll be staying late, so she was worried and stayed up until I came back. I felt so guilty I started crying, and I was like- I’m so sorry mom, you were waiting here while I was fucking a dude from literature, I’m such a horrible son, this is who I am now, someone who fucks different strangers every other day instead of spending time with his mom.” Jeongguk laughs at the embarrassing memory, hiding his red cheeks with his hands.

“Oh my god saying that to your mom? Are you insane? How drunk were you?” Jimin gasps, his arms stilling mid-stretch with disbelief.

“This isn’t even the worst part,” Jeongguk shakes his head with a grin. “She let me sleep it off, but the next morning, 9am sharp, I’m in her car and she’s driving me to get tested for STDs. All the while, I’m planning my own funeral after I jump out of the moving car out of embarrassment.”

“Holy fuck-“ Jimin swears, his own ears tinted red with secondhand embarrassment. “I would have died right there. This is the worst thing I have ever heard.”

Jeongguk doesn’t tell Jimin about the next part of the story; how his mom took him to a small coffee shop, bought him a slice of cake and said, ‘I’ve been noticing something was wrong, but rather than asking myself, I wanted it to come from you. So, now that you’ve finally drunkenly admitted it, please tell me what’s going on.’

How ‘nothing is wrong, mom,’ was his instinctual reaction, but as the woman who has known him since the day he took his first breath, she wasn’t fooled so easily. How she sent him an unconvinced look, and how he remembers so clearly feeling his nerves in his gut.

‘What do you want me to say? Should I say it again, that I hook up a lot? Who cares, it isn’t a big deal! Accept that I’ve grown up, mom.’

Doesn’t say a thing about the way he said those words, biting his tongue to not say anything he actually means.

‘Growing up is great, Jeonggukie, and making mistakes is part of it. I’m not telling you to stop making mistakes, I’m telling you to make your mistakes, but make them safely, and learn from them.’ She had said, making his heart clench. ‘No one who’s happy gets as drunk as you do as often as you do it, and no one who’s happy with themselves has so many one night stands. Something is wrong, and I want to be there for you.’

His mother had always known him well, had always read between his lines, he knew denying would be useless.

‘I’m just- I miss how things used to be, mom. How I used to be. But there are things I don’t want to go through again, and there are mistakes I can’t undo, so I’m just trying my best to- to…stay afloat. I don’t want you involved in it, at all. I just need time… I’ll- I’ll figure it out, I promise.’

He doesn’t share with Jimin the heavy guilt he felt, the way he sought his distractions even more than before after that day, in a desperate chase to quiet down another compulsive thought running around in his brain- how he just keeps disappointing, again and again. Yoongi-hyung, his mother, and lastly, himself.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yoongi passes through the next couple of days with unexplainable restlessness. He’s impatient when Jimin tells him about his day at the studio, he’s annoyed when a certain name is brought up in local music theory gossip, and all but sends an unprompted death glare at a couple of Jeongguk’s gross friends that he happens to pass by.

Just the thought of him and his behavior at that party makes Yoongi’s blood boil.

And this, of course, only naturally, has to be the day Yoongi steps into his apartment after a long, exhausting day of classes to find him on his living room couch. Unannounced. Again.

When Yoongi meets the other’s eyes, alone on the couch with no Park Jimin in sight, his own face must be turned in a deep scowl, because Jeongguk immediately tenses and rushes to explain himself.

“I’m- I’m not staying. Jimin-hyung is in his room changing into practice clothes, we’re gonna practice late today, because- because the showcase is in two weeks and- when he’s done I’ll leave right away.”

Yoongi stares at him for a few silent moments. The way his hands are fidgeting and his eyes are wide, the way his oversized hoodie makes him look a lot smaller than he is.

At long last, he lets out a huff. “It wouldn’t hurt to let me know I’m coming back to strangers in my house.”

Jeongguk flinches, his body language mimicking the one of someone getting hit. “I’m sorry, we didn’t think it was necessary because we wouldn’t stay long-“

“Well you should have thought that through. But then again, do you ever think anything that you do through, nowadays?” Yoongi spits out, and it tastes vile on his tongue but also, it feels right. He must not think about the consequences, when he goes out and gets drunk off his mind, barely getting himself home. And what about hanging around these disrespectful, borderline abusive people, as if his mind wouldn’t be slowly poisoned by their presence? Has he thought about these consequences? And don’t let him start about the hooking up-

Jeongguk’s face turns from worried to horrified in a second, “what- I’m sorry but-“

“Sorry means shit when you keep doing the same stuff over and over again. How about you start owning up to your mistakes instead of making them a personality trait, huh?”

“Hyung.” Jimin’s stern voice is heard, as he comes out of his room. His eyes shoot daggers at Yoongi. “What’s going on with you? You’re being extremely disrespectful. We were just about to leave.”

“Yeah, well, did I lie?” Yoongi’s eyes stare into Jeongguk’s wide ones, before skimming over the disapproval in Jimin’s. He doesn’t wait for a reply, before he's making a quick line to his room, shutting the door after him.

It’s only later that night that Yoongi hears the front door shut close and footsteps going up to his room. A few knocks are heard, before Jimin’s blank expression meets him from the doorway.

“So,” he stares, a bit of a challenging glint in his eyes. “Are you going to explain yourself?”

Yoongi’s jaw is set and his brows are furrowed, looking up at Jimin from his position on the bed, his phone casting light on his face from where he’s holding it. “I have nothing to explain that you aren’t already aware of. You can’t blame me for being pissed he’s in my house unannounced.”

“You’ve been perfectly civil the last time you’ve met, unannounced. If this was about what he’s done to you, you would have been angry when you first met, not now, out of the blue. What is this really about?”

“I have every right to be pissed, Jimin-ah.”

“Yes, yes you do. But you aren’t acting like yourself. What, are you annoyed I helped him get home at the party? Did you want me to just leave him to drive home with his drunk friends? Or what- are you jealous that I did? Hyung, this is ridiculous-“

“Don’t talk nonsense, Jimin-ah. You could have driven him home yourself and I wouldn’t have batted an eye. I’m angry about him. You have nothing to do with it.”

“But why, why now? Why are you suddenly upset when you’ve been really chill about it before? Why?”

“I’m pissed because he’s infuriating!” Yoongi raises his voice. The words continue to spill his bottled frustration unfiltered out of his mouth- “Getting shitfaced until he can’t fucking walk? Hanging out with those assholes catcalling him all damn night, shoving drinks down his throat when he’s already out of it, driving him home when they’re drunk, and yet considering them his best friends? Bullshit! He needs to get his shit together and quit this self-destructive act!”

Jimin’s expression sinks into one of realization, before it turns into something akin to understandment. “Hyung… oh Yoongi-hyung… you’re worried about him.”

Yoongi feels like he’s been punched. He opens his mouth to quickly deny, but no words come out of his mouth.

“You’re angry he’s not taking care of himself. Oh hyung, you’re too sweet… if only you just said it, instead of lashing out…”

“I didn’t- I don’t…” Yoongi stutters, not quite convincing even himself. “I don’t care about him anymore- it’s, it's been two years.”

“Two years aren’t that long, hyung. Your brain remembers how you felt, that’s why you’re reacting the way that you are.” Jimin sends him a sad smile. “You have to talk to him. He was a mess the entire practice, I couldn’t get him out of his head. What you said must have affected him a lot.”

As Yoongi listens to Jimin’s words, he feels contemplative. His inner turmoil must show on his face, because Jimin’s says a soft- “I’ll let you think about it on your own. Good night, Yoongi-hyung.”- and then he leaves the room, only Yoongi and his thoughts contained in the space.

Yoongi goes to class that next morning, with his contemplations still intact. He passes through the day caught up in his head and his thoughts, trying to make sense of them.

It frustrates him that the first thought that pops into his mind after his talk with Jimin is the fact that he made Jeongguk upset. He’s done that before, he’s sure- that first talk they had, when he removed Jeongguk’s hyung privileges. That time when he called his friends assholes. Countless more times in their long previous years together. But this time felt different. Yoongi spoke out of spite without considering the other man’s feelings. His brain had him under the illusion that Jeongguk would still care for his words, if he was sharp enough. That this new, roughed up version of his old Jeongguk would understand he’s in the wrong, if he heard it the way he’s now accustomed to. Apparently, Yoongi has only done more damage.

He’s caught up in his thoughts as he makes his way into the campus’ coffee shop. His train of thought stops for enough time to order an iced americano, and to take a look around.

Yoongi isn’t really a firm believer in the law of attraction, but he can’t help but be shaken when he spots the subject of his thoughts sitting by himself in a corner booth, playing with the straw on a cup of what seems like an extra large chocolate milk. Yoongi frowns. Jeongguk… well, he looks like he hasn’t slept a minute last night. He also looks like he barely pushed himself out of bed, and like if anyone even tried to speak to him, he might murder them in their sleep, or burst into tears, interchangeably.

Yoongi thinks back to Jimin’s words last night, telling him Jeongguk was a mess. Because of him. The pang of guilt in his chest is unignorable. Jeongguk looks just as deep in thought as Yoongi is, AirPods in his ears and an almost permanent frown between his brows. His eyes are puffy with fatigue and his hair not styled in his usual parted do, rather just falling into his eyes messily. Yoongi thinks, this is the most similar Jeongguk has looked to his younger self since they stumbled across one another, two years too late.

When he looks at his tired form, the shoulders hunched over the table, the empty look in his eyes… the conclusion from his talk with Jimin yesterday night finally sinks in. Yoongi still cares about Jeongguk. That’s why his body reacted on instinct to him getting punched that day, that’s why Yoongi feels some twisted sense of duty to shake him out of this loop. Of course, it has been attempted in the wrong way, but looking deep down, Yoongi felt protective. Just like he does right now.

Watching him down enough liquor for three people that night and barely hold himself up, staying silent while his sex life gets disrespectfully commented on, grabbing a stranger by the ass and taking him up to a bedroom… Yoongi doesn’t want to meddle in his private business, but his brain keeps yelling at him that it’s all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. That Jeongguk should be in a stable relationship, like out of a drama with someone he loves, surrounded by people who care for his well-being and make him a better person. Jeongguk should be becoming his best version, blooming into his full potential, taking care of himself both physically and mentally. But Jeongguk isn’t doing any of those things Yoongi thought he’d be doing when he wondered where he was, two years ago. Somewhere along the way, Jeongguk started walking a different route, and Yoongi’s heart breaks thinking about what must have happened to cause this shift, and how he was robbed of being there to guide him back.

Shit, he does care about him. He does, he thinks as he looks at the other man, sipping his sweetened drink and pushing his hair out of his eyes, only for it to come falling right back. Yoongi purses his lips. He has always been easy to forgive and forget, but is this something he should forgive? Should he allow this to be easy? He got dropped, completely and shamelessly ignored for two whole years. A life long friendship, deliberately thrown to its grave. Jeongguk chose that, he chose it. So what is Yoongi doing, still caring about him like he hasn’t had his trust broken and stomped on?

But, still, Yoongi can’t ignore the fact that he was a total emotionally constipated asshole yesterday, mislabeling his thoughts and intentions and ignoring the actual source of his emotions. Jimin was right- he needs to talk to Jeongguk and make amends. Jeongguk’s wrongs might not be forgiven, but Yoongi takes pride in being a decent person, and no one deserves to get attacked without explanation.

Although if he’s really honest with himself, a big part of why he wants to make things right isn’t because of his morals. It’s because seeing Jeongguk in front of him like this- vulnerable, hurting, looking as much as himself as Yoongi has seen in years, makes him want to take this feeling off Jeongguk’s chest. He has the ability to erase that frown, even for a moment. His brain tells him Jeongguk still cares for him enough to have his nasty words hurt him this much. That maybe Yoongi isn’t the only one whose brain is stuck two years back.

When his americano is ready, he grabs the cool cup, and decisively makes his way to Jeongguk’s table.

“Are you waiting for someone, or can we have a chat?”

Jeongguk’s eyes go wide in shock, and the hurt and confusion from yesterday flash over his eyes all over again in waves. He takes off his earphones slowly and gapes at the older man.

“I’m… I’m alone. We can talk.” He whispers.

Yoongi puts his cup on the table and sinks into the opposite seat. His fingers tap on the cup nervously. It’s time to do the right thing.

“I would like to apologize for yesterday.” Yoongi starts, watching a look of utter disbelief and confusion overtaking Jeongguk’s features.

“You’re- you’re apologizing?” Jeongguk croaks out, voice broken and shaky.

“I am. The words I said were unreasonably harsh and insensitive. You didn’t deserve to hear those words. Any one of Jimin’s friends is more than welcome in our house, and while our history makes it a bit awkward, that’s for me to handle and shouldn’t stop you from meeting. Yesterday happened because I was angry at you and took it out in the wrong way. I’ve been angry since I saw you at the party on Friday, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m pissed off, because- well, because I still care about your well-being.”

Yoongi stops to gather his thoughts and take a sip from his coffee. The shock Jeongguk wears on his face doesn’t fade, and only deepens as Yoongi’s words keep coming.

“I- wait, you- you still what.” The younger chokes out, looking so overwhelmed for a second Yoongi worries he might pass out. “Did you just say you still care about me?”

Yoongi purses his lips with a nod. “I know some people would say I shouldn’t. But regardless of how we fell out and how I should feel, I realized I still care. It drove me crazy seeing you get drunk out of your mind, almost drunk driving, ignoring being disrespected by those people you call friends. I thought to myself; how dare he take such shitty care of himself? Knowing you do this regularly… it made me blind with anger. I felt like I shouldn’t stay silent to anyone else who treats you like this, but when it’s you yourself who’s doing it? When we haven’t had a proper conversation in years? When I should be mad at you? I- I didn’t know what else to do. I ended up treating you badly as well, and I’m sorry for it.”

There’s a stunned silence for a few moments. Jeongguk looks frozen in place.

“You- you- I’m sorry, but what the fuck?” Jeongguk’s grip on his cup turns his fingertips white. “Are you dumb? Have you lost your mind? I treated you like shit, I treated you like utter shit, and you’re here and apologizing to me? I’ve been hoping for months that you hate me like I deserve you to, months, and now you suddenly act like you do, and I should be relieved, I should be satisfied with feeling like the bad guy because I am, I am, but instead I feel miserable, and instead of letting me wallow in my misery you’re here to apologize? There’s no way you’re serious.”

“Look, I, I don’t know why you did what you did, and I haven’t forgiven you or forgotten how shitty it felt. But, it’s been two years. It’s been two years and I’m not mad anymore, Jeongguk-ah, and you don’t deserve to be miserable.”

“Of course I do!” Jeongguk lets out defiantly. “I was horrible to you! I left you hanging, I let you down!”

“You, you did. Yes.” Yoongi purses his lips, hearing Jeongguk admitting his wrongs for the very first time, making them as real as they’ve ever been felt inside Yoongi’s chest. “But I’m coming close to getting over it, Jeongguk-ah. Let’s just… let’s be good acquaintances. You’re Jimin-ah’s friend and I want to respect that.”

“I just don’t understand… if I were you I’d- I'd hate my guts. I’d look at myself and want to- to- make it hurt like it did me. You can’t possibly be that forgiving?” Jeongguk’s eyes bore into the blond’s, hands fisted on the table like they on their own take the weight of grounding Jeongguk’s inner turmoil.

“What do you expect me to do, Jeongguk-ah? Hold a grudge against you for the rest of my life? That sounds exhausting. I’d rather just be on good terms. Can’t we quit the awkward tension and animosity, even if just for Jimin-ah?” Yoongi sighs, bordering on sounding defeated. The amount of time he spends with his thoughts circling the other man, the amount of space he holds in his brain, has been unjustly holding for two years… it’s exhausting. He should have let this go when the acceptance of Jeongguk’s absence had sunk in. He should have let go, should have forgotten who this man is altogether. It seems he couldn’t have done that then, and wouldn’t be able to now. Not unless he works towards letting this go.

“Ah, yes, for Jimin-hyung.” Jeongguk laughs in disbelief. “Are you sure this isn’t some twisted prank to get back at me?”

Yoongi scowls, offended. “As if I’d do something like that. I’m serious.” He nods thoughtfully. “We can’t go back to how it used to be, no, definitely not… you’ve changed quite a lot and I still have some- emotions, to figure out…but we could start here.”

There’s an unmissable sparkle of hesitant hope in Jeongguk’s wide eyes. “Shit. I’d- I’d love that,” Jeongguk gapes, with a far away expression. “While I don’t think I deserve your kindness… I can’t help but want to keep being selfish and accept it.” Jeongguk bows slightly in his seat, gaping lips and sparkly blown out eyes. “Let’s- let’s get along well, Yoongi-hyung…for Jimin-hyung.”

“Let’s get along, Jeongguk-ah… For Jimin-ah.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

From: Jimin-ssi!
[16:48] Jeonggukahhhhh
[16:48] u still down for watching the drama release with me??? 6pm!!

To: Jimin-ssi
[16:50] r u inviting me to get a boner over legendary actor kang taemoon @ ur house???..??..?
[16:51] what does it say about me if I agree

From: Jimin-ssi!
[16:52] is that a yes??????

To: Jimin-ssi!
[16:53] are you sacrificing the purity of ur livingroom couch for this?
[16:53] YES I’m coming

From: Jimin-ssi!
[16:54] finallyyyyy a romance drama appreciator to watch my shows with!!!
[16:55] btw, Yoongi-hyung said it’s ok, so don’t be nervous about a retake of last time happening

There’s a grin on Jeongguk's face that he just can’t control. He’s going over to a friend's house to watch the newest release he’s been eagerly waiting for starring one of his all-time-favorite actors, and if that didn’t make him giddy enough- Yoongi-hyung approving does. Even mentioning he watches romance dramas to Daejun and Ryeok sounds a lot like social suicide to him, so this feels like an entire new world.

He has an hour to get ready and drive there, so he has to make it quick. Jeongguk jumps out of his bed and pulls open his closet door. He frowns at the pile of neatly folded white button ups in front of him, he pulls one on- this seems like it. His favorite pair of blue cargo jeans look back at him from the pile of blue denim. Sure, he thinks, and slips them on. He stumbles out of his room while simultaneously forcing his feet into a pair of sneakers, and grabbing his wallet and keys from the living room table, along with his glasses that are placed on the table.

“Where are you going all dressed up, Jeonggukie?” His mom’s voice startles him from the doorway to the kitchen. She leans over the doorway with a raised brow.

“Huh? I’m not dressed up. This is casual wear, mom.” Jeongguk pouts, rolling the sleeves of his button up to his elbows.

“You only wear those jeans when you want to look extra good, honey.” She raises a knowing eyebrow.

Jeongguk looks down at his jeans, his shirt covering them up until his mid thigh. “That's not true…they’re, they’re causal. I’ve worn them, to like… to…”

“Exactly. Now, what occasion has the luxury of seeing you in your fancy jeans?”

Jeongguk’s ears go red. He briefly considers lying to save himself from his mother’s reaction, but gives it up. “Um, just to Jimin-hyung’s, to watch a drama together. He’s the guy from last Friday who helped me get home.”

“Oh? Is he someone special I should know, or?”

“No, oh god no. He’s a friend, and my partner in dance.” His eyes trail to the side. “He’s, um, he’s Yoongi-hyung’s best friend. And roommate.”

“Yoongi? Min Yoongi? Oh it’s been so long, how nice! You should invite him over, tell him your mom says hi!” The genuine happiness in his mom’s eyes at the knowledge Jeongguk has contact with Yoongi- Jeongguk doesn’t want to think about it too much.

“Right.” Jeongguk grimaces. He won’t do any of that. “Well, I’m gonna be late and I might bury myself alive if I miss even a minute of this episode, so, I’m heading out. I’ll be back after dinner! Bye!”

And so Jeongguk leaves, driving to his destination with nervous energy from his head to his fingertips. It’s 17:52 when he knocks on their door. Good, he thinks. He’s just in time to not miss the airing. He’s ready to tackle Jimin the moment the door opens and bring them both in front of the TV at light speed.

Except it isn’t Jimin who opens the door. It’s Yoongi.

Yoongi in a sweater five times his size and basketball shorts, a soft polite smile on his lips.

He doesn’t miss the shock on Jeongguk’s face. “Hi,” Yoongi says.

“Hi,” Jeongguk replies back, ears red.

There’s dead silence for a few moments, in which Jeongguk considers burying himself in the ground beneath him. Right. It’s not like Yoongi is comfortable with him. They aren’t even friends. Just- good acquaintances. Not that Jeongguk has the slightest right to be disappointed, no. This is more than he could ever have dreamt of. A lot more than he deserves, if you ask him.

“Come in, Jimin-ah already finished half the popcorn by himself, but we’ll make another pack.”

Jeongguk nods, not really trusting his mouth when directly speaking to the other man. He follows Yoongi in, catching a look of Jimin sprawled on the couch with a half empty popcorn bowl on his tummy.

When he notices his awaited company, he cheers. “The hottie has arrived!”

Jeongguk chuckles, ears going red. “Shut up, Jimin-hyung. Quick, put on the show, before we miss the intro.”

Jimin grabs the remote and puts on the correct channel, sitting straighter on the couch to allow Jeongguk and Yoongi to sit on both his sides. They have two more minutes until the show is due to start, and Jeongguk’s knees are bouncing up and down where they’re pressed together. He pulls his glasses out the neckline of his button down, and places them on the tip of his nose.

Jimin’s eyes widen with a grin. “Wah- Gguk-ah, didn’t know you needed glasses!”

Yoongi snorts at the sight before filling his mouth with popcorn. “Do you seriously still own this pair? You look like a chipmunk.”

Jeongguk blushes. “I wear contacts on a daily basis so I don’t need another pair! I was in a hurry and they were there!”

“Hyung, don’t be rude.” Jimin scolds Yoongi, an expression of dismay on his face. “Ggukie, I think you look adorable.”

Yoongi and Jeongguk both share an incredulous look at Jimin’s protectiveness, but don’t comment on it, returning their eyes to the TV.

When the show finally starts, Jeongguk is entranced. The comfort and sweetness of the plot line wash over him, easing the nerves of anticipation, and making him forget about anything outside of this apartment. Before long, you can find Jeongguk sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest, munching on a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of him, eyes glued to the screen.

“Oh my god,” he hears himself whisper under his breath, as the main lead, his favorite actor, is shown on screen, looking exceptionally dashing. It’s a romantic ending scene, which he executes so well that Jeongguk is swooning.

“Is this the part when you’re hiding your boner over Kang Taemoon?” Jimin snickers, kicking Jeongguk’s shoulder lightly from where he sits on the couch.

“Jimin-ssi!” Jeongguk exclaims, tone amused but ears turning red at the reminder Yoongi is sitting with them, listening to them bicker and watching the show from the far end of the couch, his own bowl of popcorn in his lap. “This slander is inexcusable. It’s a heart boner.”

Jimin bursts into laughter. Jeongguk thinks he hears Yoongi snort, but he could be imagining it.

“I mean, he’s very charming, but I think I like the second lead better.”

“I’ve watched all of his works, all of them. He makes my heart do things,” Jeongguk whines, eyes glued to the scenes quickly passing on the screen. “Kang Taemoon; the ultimate gay awakening.”

At Jeongguk’s comment, much to his unregulated nervous system’s dismay, Yoongi lets out a whole laugh, breathy and raspy and approving. “I can’t believe you still watch his dramas. He’s like, middle aged now.”

“I’ll watch his dramas even when I’m eighty.” Jeongguk declares. “And finally I have someone to talk to about it, Jimin-hyung you’re a blessing.”

“I'm just as thankful for you, Gukk-ah! I’ve also been watching by myself, since hyung has a gross manly taste in television and our other friends don’t care much for dramas.”

Yoongi scoffs. Eyeing the TV that has now started playing the end credits, a slow ballad playing as the background music.

“I watch with my mom sometimes, but I can’t talk to her about how obsessed I am with this man,” Jeongguk laughs incredulously. “And I don’t think Daejun-ah and Ryeok-ah would take the news that I watch this type of dramas very well.”

“Your friends don’t know you’re a fanatic drama watcher?” Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “What about anime?”

Jeongguk fiddles with his nails, a reddish shade coloring his neck. “Only the popular ones, the action ones.”

Jimin and Yoongi both sport a furrow in their brows at his reply.

“You know that hiding parts of yourself from your friends is a major red flag, right?” Jimin asks, a worried tint in his eyes.

Yes, Jeongguk knows. He knows he’s a coward, and that his friends know him as only a part of himself, the part he molded for people like them, the other part one he hasn’t been able to act on freely for a long time until Jimin came into his life. He knows that if he tells Daejun and Ryeok, they’ll judge him harshly for it, and are likely to run insensitive jokes about it for the rest of eternity. It’s just the way they are. And Jeongguk, he isn’t strong-willed or especially self-confident. Comments about his interests will hurt him and his already crippling self worth, and maybe they’ll even be the beginning of his little shield breaking down- the cool tough guy reputation will crumble and he’ll be exposed and vulnerable and back to his high school days- except now he’ll be alone. Jeongguk feels that he can’t afford to be picky with his company, and that the things Daejun and Ryeok have done for him are worth a lot more than the price of being only a socially acceptable version of himself.

“Yeah, well, you can’t always be a hundred percent yourself around other people.” Jeongguk whispers back.

“What’s stopping you?” Jimin asks, as if it’s easy. As if being himself is as simple as breathing.

“Well, everything.” Jeongguk stares at Jimin, furrowing his brows as he tries to explain his thought process to his friend. “You always have to hide something. With you I need to hide the part of me that they like, with them I have to hide the part that you like. With my mother I’ll hide the parts she doesn’t want to know about, and so goes on. I can’t be entirely myself at all times.”

“I mean, granted, there are… social guidelines. But as long as it feels right to you, then you’re being yourself. As long as you’re not holding back.” Jimin suggests a small smile.

Jeongguk’s gaze strays to Yoongi’s face out of his control. He has to admit, he has had similar conversations with him as they were growing up. And while Yoongi’s advice has always been sensible and thought-provoking, it feels like following it will put a weight on Jeongguk’s shoulders that will pull him down with it. Being unapologetically yourself… is frightening. It’s the scariest thing, to someone like Jeongguk, who has been ridiculed and harassed for years for choosing his own unique path, and continues to be judged and scrutinized even after he became what he was told to.

Yoongi would always tell him: with someone who really listens, you wouldn’t have to filter your words. With someone who feels safe, you wouldn’t have to defend yourself with pretenses and masks. With someone who loves you, you just have to be.

As Yoongi’s eyes look back at his solemn ones, Jeongguk feels like his gaze speaks those words at him all over again.

“I’m, I'm a lot of different things that contradict one another. If I choose one version, I actively choose to lose some people in my life. I don’t want to do that.” Jeongguk purses his lips, shoulders sagging at the weight of Yoongi’s familiar analyzing gaze, and Jeongguk can hear him, his eighteen year old self, he can hear high-schooler Yoongi speak words to him in his head, tell him to let go, to just be, to stop overthinking himself into miscalculations, and every word weights like the world and makes Jeongguk’s stomach churn and his heartbeat drum and his breath quicken.

“Do you really think you’d lose me if you acted like yourself?” Jimin frowns, hints of hurt in his eyes. It looks a lot like disappointment to the younger.

Jeongguk can’t help the confused scowl on his face. “Did you want to befriend me before we met, Jimin-hyung? When you heard all those things about me fucking half the department, or saw what I’m like at parties every weekend with my friends? Did you think to yourself- Ah, the one with the tattoos seems like a good guy, when you saw me come to class with a blackeye? No, you thought to yourself, ah, who does this guy think he is, acting like that, what an ass.”

Jimin’s expression exudes guilt. Jeongguk has hit the bullseye, just as he guessed, and maybe now Jimin could understand his point.

“I’m not blaming you, I’m not.” Jeongguk presses. “But it’s just the reality. If I acted with you the way I’m like when I’m with my other friends, you wouldn’t have wanted to come anywhere near me.”

“I have other friends who hook up and party too much, Jeongguk-ah…” Jimin trails off.

“Yeah, but if you go to a party together will they choose fucking a stranger over hanging out with you? Will they get in a fight and leave without even letting you know? Will they stay silent when their friends are disrespecting you?” Jeongguk shoots out, eyes wild as they bore into Jimin’s incredulous expression staring back at him.

“Would you?”

Jeongguk’s breathing is too quick, his thoughts swirling all around his head without a sense of direction. Is Jeongguk the type of person to do those things? Yes. He is. Has he done them a thousand times before? Yes. He has. Will he keep doing them, hating himself every second of the day afterwards? Yes. Yes, he will. If Jimin thinks he wants to get to know Jeongguk and all the sum of his parts, then he’s dead wrong. He doesn’t know a thing about what that part of Jeongguk is like.

“I would.”

He would.

There’s an electrically-charged silence between the two of them as they hold eye contact, as if breaking it would trigger a shockwave that no one wants to get hit by.

“Bullshit.”

Both their gazes snap towards Yoongi, who barked the single raspy word and broke the silence. “Bullshit.” He repeats when he’s got their attention on him, eyes burning into Jeongguk’s. “When in that situation with Jimin-ah, and external influences like your asshole friends out of the picture, you won’t need to look for outside validation. You wouldn’t need an outlet to your suffering because you’d be actually enjoying yourself, not busy with maintaining some kind of image. Instead of running out and leaving, you’d be looking for him for comfort. This is what friends are actually like, if you’ve managed to forget.”

Jeongguk stares into the older man’s eyes, stunned. Did Yoongi-hyung just indirectly reference their old friendship? “I- I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t. But I do find comfort in them- don't, don’t make them into villains.”

“No, you don’t find comfort in them, Jeongguk-ah. Being around them is comfortable. These are not the same things.” Yoongi pushes.

“Stop talking as if you know how I feel,” Jeongguk snaps, tone rising, fists clenching. “You don’t know this part of me, so stop throwing out your assumptions like they’re facts, will you?”

“Gguk-ah, it’s okay, no one’s trying to attack you.” Jimin rubs circles into Jeongguk’s shoulder, an attempt to calm his spirits. “Hyung is a bit too blunt, but he has a point. How come you can tell me what you’re like when with them, but won’t tell them what you’re like with us?”

Us! Us! Jimin thinks there is an us! As if Yoongi is his friend, as if Yoongi doesn’t simply want to get along with him for Jimin’s sake. The weird thing is, that judging by Yoongi’s expression, he really doesn’t seem to mind Jimin’s slip up- rather, he’s even nodding in agreement.

“They’ll just be dicks about it, so what’s the point?” Jeongguk lets out, frustration clear in his voice.

“Why are you friends with people who are dicks to you, Jeongguk-ah?” Yoongi seems to have found Jeongguk’s weak spot, and he presses it, hard.

“They aren’t dicks to me! They’re good friends, they aren’t dicks!” Jeongguk lets out, defensiveness and frustration mixing up into a noticeable shade of defeat.

“But will they be if you stop living by their books?”

Silence. Stunned silence. Jeongguk’s face is twisted in shock as his eyes snap away to stare at the paused ending credits on the TV. He’s forgotten how blunt Yoongi is, how easily he was always able to dissect him apart, point his finger at the real reasons for his actions, direct his attention to the patterns. Jeongguk’s reaction speaks for itself. He doesn’t need to nod, doesn’t need to confirm. He knows there will be backlash to being his truest self with them. He isn’t prepared for the way that will hurt, the repressed memories it will trigger. He isn’t prepared to lose his identity with them. The way he’s like with Daejun and Ryeok- it's everything he knows.

“We didn’t mean this to feel like an intervention or something,” Jimin sighs, hand ruffling Jeongguk’s hair. “Just take it as food for thought, alright?”

Yoongi meets Jeongguk’s scared gaze, there’s electricity in the intensity of those eyes.

“Just food for thought.”

2019

Yoongi stands outside the auditorium, school uniform flapping in the wind as he waits with a grin on his face for his company to arrive. The song that was played just a few moments ago in the auditorium speakers is stuck in his head, and so he taps his fingers on his thigh with the beat. Kids exit the auditorium in groups, and Yoongi searches among them with his eyes for him, but Jeongguk is nowhere to be found.

He tries to call the younger boy, the line rings and rings and rings, but there's no answer. So Yoongi keeps waiting. Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, and he’s still by the entrance, a frown on his face and dialing the younger boy for the fifth time. Could he have left without letting him know? But Yoongi would have seen him exit- his eyes have been glued to the door for the past half an hour. His left foot taps on the floor with nerves, as he waits for the call to get picked up.

Ringing, ringing, ringing, and then- “h-hyung? Hyung?”

Yoongi’s entire body feels like it’s been shot by lightning- Jeongguk is weeping, these two words are enough for the wet sobs to filter through his tone. “Gguk-ah? What happened? Where are you? Hyung has been waiting by the entrance for you.”

“I’m- I’m behind t-the auditorium,” Jeongguk sobs, “hyung, hyung, they did it again, they, they,” Jeongguk stops to sniffle his nose and take a shaky breath. Yoongi’s legs start to move on their own. “Was I r-really th-that bad? W-was I?”

“What are you talking about? Gguk-ah you’re the best dancer I have ever seen. Everyone was really impressed by you, I heard them, I was in the crowd. You did so, so well.” Yoongi’s feet carry him around the building- looking, searching with his eyes for the other boy.

“They said, hyung, they said I-I fucked up so bad that I ruined it for the rest of the dancers, they said- they said someone like me sh-should never show his face on a, a s-stage.” Yoongi hears the younger’s words, stuttered and wet with tears, and his heart drops in his chest, his fist clenching by his side.

“Who are th- wait, I see you, I’m coming, hyung will be right there, stay put.”

Yoongi all but runs, seeing Jeongguk’s hunched frame, crouching on the floor in his black band hoodie and his ripped black jeans- scraped up knees peeking out of the fabric. He’s changed out of his stage outfit, back to his normal clothes. And Yoongi- Yoongi sees his tears mixing with blood running down from his nose.

“Gguk-ah! What happened? You’re hurt!” Yoongi rushes over, crouching down next to the younger boy, pushing his long hair out of his eyes and wiping his tears.

“Just, just my nose. I got punched.” He replies, sniffling, his crying calming down at the sight of his closest and only friend.

“Who do they think they are?” Yoongi grits out, pulling Jeongguk’s head up, seeing the bleeding has already stopped, leaving its red remnants dried on his skin.

“I messed up the choreography, hyung, I was out of tempo the first twenty seconds. I’m such a disaster.” Jeongguk has stopped crying, an empty type of misery on his features.

“You were amazing regardless, Gguk. You looked like an idol.” Yoongi ruffles his hair fondly. “The control you have over your body is amazing. You’re going to do incredible things with this gift and hard work, Ggukie, and you’re going to prove them they were damn wrong.”

“But I messed up, I messed up.” Jeongguk shakes his head repeatedly.

“You’re just a person, you’re allowed to make mistakes. Next time you’ll put more emphasis on your tempo and you won’t make that mistake again. You’re only learning and improving as the days pass, only going forward.” Jeongguk is looking up at him with his wide deer eyes, all sparkly with tears. “When you’re rich and famous I’m going to tell you the biggest I told you so to ever get uttered.”

“As if that’s gonna happen,” Jeongguk huffs, wiping his face and smearing blood on his palms.

“I was waiting for you outside, and I wanted to see you walk out and congratulate you for your amazing performance, and tell you how good you were and how bright your passion shines through and how much your hard work is paying off. You’re absolutely going to get accepted at Seoul university. That’s the truth, not the bullshit these pigs told you. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Hyung…you really think I can make it?” Jeongguk’s sad eyes shine up at him, looking like Yoongi’s words are the only thing that grounds him where he sits on the floor.

“You can and you will. You’re a goddamn star, Jeon Jeongguk, and I really do believe in you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The room is quiet except for the chitter chatter of expectancy the crowd is emitting. Yoongi is sitting in the middle of the most center row, having arrived early to save the best seats. Seokjin is sitting by his left and Hoseok by his right as they patiently wait for the event to begin. There are bright spotlights with a soft hue focused on the left side of the stage, and a pretty glittery background to the back wall.

There’s excitement building in the bottom of Yoongi's tummy as his foot taps the floor.

“When is Jimin-ah coming up?” Seokjin whispers to Yoongi from his left side.

“They’re performing the opening, they said.” Yoongi replies absentmindedly, looking at the lights dimming on stage. “I think it’s starting.”

Seokjin sends him a suspicious look, but settles on watching the performance as it starts.

The spotlight slowly darkens until the stage is engulfed in darkness.

“Please welcome Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk as they open today’s showcase with their emotionally-charged contemporary performance.”

The room is quiet in anticipation.

And then, a soft fairy-like instrumental starts playing, backed by a steady drum. With every beat, the spotlight lights a different part of the stage for a short second in warm orange light, a figure coming into view but disappearing just as quickly.

Yoongi recognizes Jimin’s lean frame, clad in cream-colored layered silk that flows when he moves. He holds his pose as he seems to be reaching the ceiling with his hand, his clothes dangling with the movement. Before Yoongi can focus on anything in depth, the spotlight blinks to the other side of the stage, where Jeongguk’s figure is stretched into a graceful handstand, engulfed in rich browns, the same shade as his hair, complimenting Jimin’s cream and the warmth of the light shining upon him.

In a heartbeat the spotlight is back on Jimin, who jumps, twirling mid-air, the fabric of his shirt making him look like he’s flying. For the landing, Jeongguk is shown, rolling on the floor.

The lyrics start, a melodic raspiness over the softness of the instrumental, and with them the spotlight moves to shine on the middle of the stage, where Jimin and Jeongguk begin their dance.

There’s a certain mood on stage, a powerful balance, as if everything is happening as it should, nothing out of order. Jeongguk holds Jimin for jumps and twirls him in the air, supports his body as he tries to reach upwards as much as his and Jeongguk’s bodies would allow him. Jeongguk catches him effortlessly, body staying secure on the stage, never separating their point of contact. Where Jeongguk is powerful and stable, Jimin is weightless and free.

They continue to dance around each other, Jeongguk’s hands holding onto Jimin’s hips as they parade together on the stage, all graceful movements and complimenting dynamics, moving back and forth with the suspension of the music. Jimin flips and dips and soars, and Jeongguk holds and pulls and rolls.

As the chorus begins to build, Yoongi senses there’s a slight change in atmosphere. Suddenly, the spotlight isn’t warm orange, it’s blue and following the two as they mirror each other until their moves look identical, until Jimin comes down to the floor, in the manner of Jeongguk’s dance, the balance of light versus heavy breaking, and things don’t feel so orderly and natural anymore. Jeongguk and Jimin seem to be caught in a fight for dominance as they move around each other, both seeming to lean towards the type of stable dance performed on the ground, but for the balance to return someone must take the weightless part. The music builds and builds and then it drops, and with it Jimin pushes Jeongguk into the air, forcing them to switch their parts. Jeongguk’s expression screams pure fear as he soars, and Yoongi’s instincts keep him at the edge of his seat, he has to force himself still, his fingertips twitching. It takes his body a few more movements of the two of them to understand Jeongguk’s fear is part of the choreography, his eyes wide as he’s pushed and pulled and forced to take flight off Jimin’s body, the smaller boy not allowing him a moment of safety, taking over his part as the source of stability.

Jeongguk is trying to get away, to come down to the security of having his body hit the floor, his brown clothing contrasting against the silvery glitter in the background. The music is heavy, and so are the emotions emitted from the stage, Jeongguk’s body managing to appear graceful as he transmits the stillness of paralyzing fear, held up in the air as Jimin twirls the both of them. As the chorus continues to grow in intensity, Jeongguk manages to reach the ground, scurrying as he rolls away, but Jimin grabs his ankle and pushes him up, until he’s hand standing again, this time movements absolutely controlled by the way Jimin dances with his knees on the ground. Jeongguk holds onto Jimin’s shoulders for dear life as the elder pushes him upwards again, legs straightening up before he’s back rolling down, out of Jimin’s hold.

As the drums raise in volume, Jeongguk and Jimin’s battle for control picks up again, Jimin held up in the air before dropping down to throw the younger one up instead.

Yoongi is shivering, and his heart is beating like he’s just ran a whole marathon.

The pressure Yoongi feels doesn't get to tone down for even a moment, the song builds and builds until it drops into a stop, and in that last moment before everything is quiet, it seems Jeongguk has lost, and his body is maintained in the air by Jimin’s grip, the scene still and final.

There’s dead silence for a few moments, the crowd must be feeling what Yoongi is, utter shock.

And then, it sinks, and everyone bursts into cheers and clapping. Yoongi’s heart doesn’t stop drumming in his chest for a long while.

Whatever amazing performance he thought he’s coming to watch- this, this surpassed it.

He stays in awe as the rest of the performers go on stage, and keeps seeing Jeongguk’s terrified expression as Jimin pushes him up- how did they even do that?- in the back of his head. All the jumps, the throws, the lifts- it really explains why Jimin kept coming back home from practice with a swollen ankle. It makes sense now, that they practiced so much, to perfect this, to make the crowd’s hearts race as they follow the storyline and feed on its energy.

Yoongi knew how good of a dancer Jimin was even before tonight. He was aware, had watched many of his showcases before, and yet, the surprise is just as consuming every single time. If you had told him Jimin would be lifting Jeongguk up in the air on sheer muscle power- Yoongi wouldn’t have believed you. The size difference is ridiculous. Yes, Jimin works out diligently, but- still. Yoongi is dizzy with awe.

And- and Jeongguk. Jeongguk. Yoongi hasn’t seen him dance in two years, two whole years. And while Jeongguk was a good dancer at eighteen, his dance at twenty is hypnotizing, so distinctly better, if that’s even possible. His dance is manly and controlled, perfectly synced with the changing intensities of the music, and while Yoongi isn’t an expert, he can tell his technique has improved drastically- alongside Jeongguk himself, his skills have matured with him. Jeon Jeongguk is a professional dancer, and when he’s on stage, he’s making art.

In the back of his eyes Yoongi sees the younger boy back in his high school days tell him he’s quitting, tell him he’s never gonna dance again, that it isn’t for him. He remembers the heartbreak of trying for weeks to convince him to go back to it, because Yoongi has always believed in Jeongguk, has always known he could be this good, and far, far better. He saw Jeongguk’s future before Jeongguk could even imagine it. Yoongi is so happy that this part of Jeongguk hasn’t changed, so happy and grateful he can see this moment, that he thinks his heart might explode.

Looking at the younger man on stage, Yoongi can’t help himself but think- Jeongguk couldn’t have changed all that much.

After the showcase is over, Jimin and Jeongguk each hold two bouquets of flowers in their hands, the entire dance crew and their friends head out for an after party. It isn’t too rowdy- just one of the students’ house, some music and booze. Yoongi’s heart is still heavy in his chest as his friend group settles into a corner in the living room space, and his eyes keep finding their way to Jeongguk’s figure standing in the front yard with his friends.

“Ah! Jiminie, I’m so proud of you! You were incredible, the moves were difficult but you delivered them so well. The emotion and dynamics, too!” Hoseok pulls Jimin into a hug, ruffling his hair. Jimin’s eyes turn to crescents as his grins, cheeks reddish.

“The teachers were onto something, pairing me and Jeongguk-ah up. I had a feeling that as long as we landed all our jumps, this had to go well.” Jimin replies, sending a fond look over to Jeongguk, who catches it from where he‘s standing and sends an enthusiastic thumbs up back. Yoongi’s eyes follow the interaction and stay rooted on Jeongguk’s casual smile and the bit of tension he seems to carry in his shoulders as his friends pat him on the back. Yoongi tracks him down for the rest of the evening, and when his friends seem to go get themselves some drinks, leaving the brunet by himself, Yoongi feels his muscles push him off the chair by themselves, making him head towards the other boy. Every cell in his body seems to understand- there’s something Yoongi must do.

When Jeongguk spots him as he sips on a soft drink, leaning on the railing, his eyes widen just the slightest bit, doe eyes staring back at Yoongi’s form advancing towards him on the damp grass, mellowed down trap music in the background.

“Hi,” Yoongi says, eyes glued to the other man.

“Hi, hyung,” Jeongguk replies, almost shyly.

“You- you were amazing, Jeongguk-ah. You were- you were incredible. I want to describe to you what watching your performance felt like but I can’t find the right words.” Yoongi falls over his thoughts, too many of them wanting to come out of his mouth all at once. So many things he wants to say.

Jeongguk’s eyes soften, lips quivering at the sentiment. “Hyung, you- you don't have to…”

“I need to let you know, Jeongguk-ah. You- you deserve to know how good you were. It’s been two years since I last saw you dance- I didn’t expect to be this overwhelmed. I always believed you’d be wonderful, but this, this surpassed even my expectations. What I saw today was art.” Yoongi stalls for a moment, looking at Jeongguk’s honest expression. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You- hyung-“ At that sentence, Jeongguk’s face scrunches, chest seizing up, and he abruptly turns his back to Yoongi. The older is startled at the sudden movement, but soon enough Jeongguk’s shoulders start shaking and- oh. Oh.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi says weakly, unsure as he stares at the other’s broad back. “Are you crying? Did I say something wrong?”

“Just- g-give me a moment, hyung, just-“ and yes, Jeongguk is crying, facing the street off the railing, away from prying eyes. His words come out laced with sniffles and soft whimpers, and, Yoongi had just made Jeongguk cry.

Yoongi doesn't know what to do, doesn’t know if he should try and comfort him, or wait for him to regain his composure. He just stands there, behind Jeongguk’s back, hearing the wet sounds of his weeps and breathless inhales.

But even those moments don’t prepare Yoongi for what Jeongguk is about to tell him.

“I’m just- I’m just so happy, hyung. You liked it,” Jeongguk lets out a shuddered breath. “I wanted you to like it so bad. Wanted to- to show you that I was w-worth believing in.”

Yoongi stares at Jeongguk’s back, mouth gaping. The vulnerability in his voice shifts something in Yoongi, and the way that Jeongguk is weeping at Yoongi’s encouraging words makes him think that maybe Jeongguk has been deprived of this; of honest displays of warmth, of someone believing in him and his abilities. Maybe Jeongguk hasn’t found another person who treats him with the care that Yoongi used to.

“I don’t need proof that you’re dedicated, and, and hardworking, Jeongguk-ah. These are qualities that stick with you. You could change drastically all you want, but these qualities, they remain a part of you. I had no doubt you’d succeed. Even when I was bitter and angry and hurt, never for even a second did I lose faith in your abilities.”

At Yoongi’s words, Jeongguk turns around. His eyes are wide and wet with tears but so soft, holding the entire galaxy in them, staring at his hyung through wet lashes. Before Yoongi can digest what’s happening, there’s a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, making him stumble back with the sudden force of the hold. At first, Yoongi stands still, shocked and dazed, but a few seconds later as Jeongguk’s familiar laundry detergent scent is in his nose, he loosens up, wrapping his hands on the younger’s small waist, returning the hug.

Jeongguk keeps crying with his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, his back rising and falling as he weeps in the comfort of Yoongi’s embrace.

“Y-you, you always know what to say,” Jeongguk mumbles into the elder’s shoulder, sniffling. “I’m sorry I’m a mess, god, just, I really needed to hear that from you, hyung, you- you don't even know how much.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Yoongi whispers back, lightly petting the younger’s back as his crying calms down.

When Jeongguk’s tears finally cease, he slowly pulls away from Yoongi’s embrace. His face seems blank, except for his big doe eyes still staring at Yoongi’s shoulder he just retracted from.

“I almost quit. I almost enrolled in business.” Jeongguk wipes his eyes with his sleeve, voice empty. “I couldn’t do it anymore, the situation with my mom, and doing everything by myself- it was too hard. I stopped practicing. I started hating it.”

“Jeongguk-ah…” Yoongi whispers, disbelief in his features.

“But- but then after I decided to still give it a try, I met Daejun-ah and Ryeok-ah, and they made dancing fun again. And- and they helped me with my mom, too, and when I suddenly had friends to talk to her about when she asked, the look on her face- just…” Jeongguk trails off, brows furrowing. “She was so afraid I’d be by myself after moving away from you, hyung. And- and she wasn’t the only one.”

Yoongi’s expression mimics Jeongguk’s frown as he listens. “If you were so afraid, then why… why…”

“Why did I stop contacting you?” Jeongguk chuckles sadly. “I don’t know, because I’m a fucking dumbass? I was stupid and bitter and alone, hyung, I forgot what my mom looked like out of hospital gowns, and she was all I had in this huge scary city, I was alone and the house was always empty, and I got depressed. The high functioning type of depression that lets you go to class or get dragged to your friends' parties to drink but doesn’t allow you to look for comfort or cry or feel, and I didn’t want to talk to you, I didn’t want you to make me feel better, I wanted to stay miserable. Then when things got a bit better, I had to be there for mom, and the routine became overwhelming, I even stopped coming to class. Thinking about explaining everything to you, the guilt of- of hurting you when you didn’t deserve it, of ignoring your calls, of looking at myself in the mirror and knowing that you’d really, really hate the person I’ve become… My brain told me I was better off not disappointing you with what I made myself into. That you’re better off without me as a burden anyway.”

Yoongi scowls, about to comment, but Jeongguk stops him with a solemn shake of his head- “I know, hyung, I know now. I know that you’re sweet and kind and forgiving and that you wanted me to get in contact… the thing is I was self-destructive, hyung, maybe I still am, but you can be sure that I regret it with every cell in my body.”

Yoongi’s face is conflicted, even upset, as he runs his hands through his hair. “You could have- you could have told me your mom was sick, that you needed space- I would have given it to you, Jeongguk-ah.”

“I know, hyung. I do.” Jeongguk’s expression is filled with bits of melancholy. “I think, I think I just wanted to get back at myself.”

Yoongi stares at Jeongguk’s face for a long moment, letting the words sink in. When they do, he looks away. “I- can I ask about your mother’s illness? You said she’s healthy now?”

Jeongguk nods. “She had breast cancer, hyung. It was diagnosed early, though, so she’s good now. But it was… it was hard. Really hard.”

“And your friends, you said they helped?” Yoongi’s gaze moves to the two men inside the house, play fighting in front of the table of drinks.

Jeongguk smiles softly. “They would drive me every day after class to the hospital, wait there for me sometimes late into the night, too. I know you have a strong dislike towards them, and I can understand why, but I’m really thankful for them. I don’t agree with everything they do, and many mistakes I’ve made were with them, but they were there for me when I had no one else.”

Yoongi purses his lips, nodding. “Okay, I can accept that. I don’t support it, but I can accept it. Thank you for sharing it with me, Jeongguk-ah.”

“You deserve to know, Yoongi-hyung. And thank you again, for being so forgiving, even if I don’t really deserve it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Yoongi doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point, Jeongguk becomes a frequent visitor in their home.

Yoongi gets used to his company, to smiling back at a man in oversized clothing lounging on his living room couch, to laughing with him and Jimin at funny romcoms and pretending he isn’t even amused, to waking up to class seeing the two passed out in front of the TV.

One time, Yoongi is busy cutting veggies- he’s making his famous kimchi stew for him and Jimin’s dinner, when the doorbell rings. Jimin is not home yet from his evening classes, so Yoongi grabs a kitchen towel to wipe his hands on, and heads for the door. Behind it, stands Jeongguk. Yoongi isn’t even surprised anymore, doesn’t have much of a reaction to seeing him pop up around here all the time, but there’s something about Jeongguk showing up at his house unannounced, dressed in all black and a pair of boots- less massive than the ones from high school, but still- and a bunny smile, that makes something in Yoongi’s heart lose composure.

“Yah, soon you’ll have to start paying rent here,” Yoongi jokes, opening the door to let the younger man inside.

“Oohh, living with Yoongi-hyung~ am I living my teenage dream?” Jeongguk scrunches his nose, taking off his boots in favor of slippers. “What smells so good? Are you gonna feed me, hyung?”

“I’m in the middle of cooking dinner, should I make you a portion?” Yoongi asks, heading towards the small kitchen, not really waiting for a reply before adding the necessary ingredients to feed another person.

“Ugh, yes, missed being babied by my elders. Fuck having friends my age. If you’re the one cooking, I might just eat until I pass out.” The brunet lifts himself up to sit on the counter to Yoongi’s left. It’s strangely domestic, and Yoongi finds he doesn’t mind the company. He gets a bit lonely when Jimin’s out of the house, and Jeongguk is entertaining enough.

Their talks lately have been given the qualities of their old ones, before their unfortunate fallout. It isn’t the same, no, Jeongguk isn’t a softie who needs Yoongi’s protection, and Yoongi has other priorities except Jeongguk’s mental health, but the undertones are there, and the teasing is there. Jeongguk has gotten a handful more mouthy since they last bickered, could even make Yoongi speechless, if he put his mind to it. It feels right, to talk this way. It feels warm and familiar, like falling back into old habits.

“Can’t believe you kept that appetite even after puberty. Your stomach can contain more food in a day than I eat in a week.”

“Hyunggg, it’s because I work out,” Jeongguk whines, “muscles don’t form on an empty stomach.”

Yeah, I can tell that, Yoongi thinks, and ends up actually saying, much to his embarrassment.

“Really? Can you tell?” Jeongguk looks down on himself, scrutinizing his flexed bicep like it personally offended him. “No, I need to buff up a bit more.”

“You look just fine like this, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi supplies without really looking, busy tasting his stew and making the necessary adjustments to satisfy his standards.

“Yeah? If you had to pick eighteen year old Jeongguk’s style or twenty year old Jeongguk’s style, which would you choose?” Jeongguk smiles at his hyung, eyes bright and curious.

Yoongi can’t lie and say his interest isn’t picked. He turns around to look at the other man. “Well…” he takes his time to take in Jeongguk’s outfit- black button up paired with black denim and a pair of leather boots. Most of his tattoos are covered with the dark fabric of his shirt, but the ones on his knuckles peek out. The chestnut hairs on his head brushed back to expose his brows, the left one pierced along with a pink bottom lip. “I’m weak for your younger version, call me sentimental. I would give him your hair, though. He'd have liked how you look right now. Would have thought you were super cool.”

Jeongguk’s eyes are locked on his, not quite expecting a serious reply. He whispers, “You think so?”

“I know so. Tattoos, piercings, that oversized thing you’ve got going on, and all black? He’d have idolized you, or some shit.” Yoongi chuckles. “You were very impressionable, though, so maybe that’s part of it.”

“I was, yes. Probably still am. I idolized you, though, hyung. Wanted to please you so bad.” Jeongguk laughs at himself, making a fond grin take over his eyes. “If you told me shaved eyebrows would look cool on me I would have shaved them off that same night. You could have told me to jump in front of a moving truck, hyung, and I would have considered it.”

Yoongi pauses, checking he heard Jeongguk correctly. While Jeongguk did pay a lot of attention to his words and advice, he wouldn’t have gone as far as calling it idolizing… that makes him a little embarrassed. He isn’t anyone special, he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary in himself to garner this kind of respect. Then again, Yoongi was his only friend and older than him. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched of an idea to entertain- it’s just that when applied to their dynamics, Yoongi would never have considered it himself. Regardless of the way Yoongi sees it, Jeongguk knows best what he felt, and so Yoongi can’t help but recall old memories and dissect them all over again with the new information.

“Then you’re lucky hyung had good intentions, hmm?”

“Yeah, that’s the beauty in it, isn’t it?” The younger grins, a soft sparkle of nostalgia in his eyes, feet dangling over the counter. “I would have followed your advice to my grave, because I knew you’d always consider my well-being.”

“Mm, gotta keep up my game, then, or else you might disappear on me again for another two years,” Yoongi chuckles, a lighthearted smile on his lips. Jeongguk, though, isn’t so amused at the joke. His face falls, gaze staring into a specific point on the floor, unmoving, jaw set.

Yoongi looks back at him behind his shoulder at the lack of response. “Too soon?”

“Too soon.” Jeongguk sighs. He bites the side of his cheek as he mulls some thoughts over, deciding on his next words. “I’m still… skeptical. There’s no way you can forgive me for being a horrible human being to you.”

“Eventually, sure I can. We’re getting there.” Yoongi smiles softly, breaking ramen noodles into broth.

“No, you- if someone else would have done that to you, hyung, I would have never forgiven them. Never.” Jeongguk shakes his head, a bothered scowl on his face at the prospect. “But it wasn’t anyone else, it was me, so the concept of being forgiven is just… too good to be true.”

“Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi starts, turning around to face him completely and give him his undivided attention. Jeongguk is holding a grudge against himself, one big enough to majorly weigh him down and change the way he views himself. He has always been a man led first and foremost by his heart, and Yoongi has a feeling those self deprecating comments that slip out of his mouth from time to time stem from this very feeling. “I heard your reasoning. I’m not hurt anymore. In fact, it upsets me that you're still hating yourself for it. I wouldn’t want that for you. You need to move past this, let it go. We’re good, aren’t we? We’re good.”

“I can’t let it go, hyung. I spent all this time thinking about the massive mistake that I made, I’m not gonna just forget it in a day, you know?” Jeongguk shakes his head.

“Not a day, but…” Yoongi trails off, thinking of a way to explain this, to guide him, so he could understand. “What do you think could help you overcome this?”

Jeongguk stares at him blankly. As if he’s got the answers prepared in advance, he doesn’t let Yoongi wait for even a second- “payback. Getting hurt by you, just as much.”

Yoongi huffs. “As if. That’s not going to happen, so think about something else.”

Jeongguk’s gaze is unfocused, moving around the kitchen, anywhere but Yoongi. “Maybe… maybe doing something for you. To make it up. Helping.”

Yoongi smiles, taking a step towards the other boy. Knowing Jeongguk, he needs to do this on his own terms, and step by step. Yoongi knows him, knows what he’s like. He knows how to help. “Okay, Jeongguk-ah. I’ve got an idea. We’re gonna make a deal. You’re going to help me forgive you.”

“Help you forgive me?” Jeongguk asks with doubt clear on his face.

“Yeah. And the only way I can forgive you, is if you prove to me you learnt from your mistakes and that you’re ready to forgive yourself.” Yoongi grins, satisfaction clear on his face.

“Hyung…” Jeongguk whines. “I already said, I can’t do that, it’s too rooted in me. I’ll do whatever I need to do but...”

“Then hyung will just have to help you out with it.” Is all Yoongi says, before he returns to the food, picking up two bowls and the hot kimchi stew pot, and heading towards the doorway. “Come on, let’s go eat in the living room.”

Jeongguk follows him quietly, sitting down next to him on the couch, accepting a bowl with his hyung’s fresh homemade cooking, that he hasn’t tasted in two whole years. When it hits his taste buds, he almost feels like crying- memories of warmth and summer evenings around Yoongi’s kitchen table, of filling his stomach at three in the morning after a movie night, just because his hyung wouldn’t deny him a thing. Jeongguk tastes the fond memories on his tongue and feels his heart warming pleasantly.

“Jeongguk-ah, let me ask you a few questions.” Yoongi starts, maintaining eye contact with the younger’s sparkly doe ones as he lifts a spoon of broth to his mouth. Let’s get his thoughts in order, he thinks. “You say you regret ghosting me for two years, that you consider it a huge mistake. Correct?”

“Yes, of course.” Jeongguk replies eagerly, a puzzled look on his face.

“And what do we do when we make a mistake, when we have a regret?”

“Um? We, live with it?” Jeongguk’s brows furrow.

“We learn from it, Jeongguk-ah, so we won’t ever make it again.” Yoongi explains. “I want you to learn from it, so I can rest assured that I’ll never get dropped like that again. Help me release this two year old grudge, and I’ll be able to forgive you, hoping you’ll find it in you to forgive yourself.”

Jeongguk looks at him skeptically, but eventually nods.

Yoongi smiles softly. “When you explained yourself to me at the showcase after party, you said you couldn’t contact me because you wanted to stay miserable by yourself. You need to make sure that when you’re upset or sad, you don’t let it consume you, and you come to find a friend, seek comfort. Don’t let yourself go back to that state. It’s necessary to feel your emotions, but don’t let them overtake you, Gguk-ah. Let them flow through before allowing them to leave.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whispers, “you’re being a stereotypical psychology major again…”

“When am I not?” He chuckles, nudging the other man’s shoulder with his. “Another thing you said was that you became overwhelmed with your mother's situation, and I thought, hey he could have just told me. You really could have. Communication is important. A single text could have prevented us falling out. Make sure that from now on you communicate with me better, share your needs and your boundaries, when you need to be left alone or be coddled and supported. Okay, Jeonggukie? Of course, I’ll do my best to do the same.”

“Yes, hyung. Okay.” Jeongguk’s lips are pursed as he nods, a guilty expression of a kid getting scolded painted on his face.

“Good.” Yoongi smiles softly, squeezing the brunet’s shoulder, the touch grounding in its familiarity, reminding Jeongguk of the uncountable times this same man had held him together from falling apart with his bare hands. Remembers just how deeply he trusts him to do that again, no matter how much time has passed. “What else?”

Jeongguk plays with his lip ring as he ponders the question, unconsciously leaning into the firm touch. “Maybe… maybe I should stop relying on other people’s opinions of me as a criterion for self worth… just do what feels right instead. I kept on hating myself, thinking you would have hated who I am now.”

“That’s a hard one. I believe in you, though. You’re the only one who matters.” Yoongi smiles, watches the way Jeongguk’s eyes don’t lose their focus for a moment, fiery as his mind runs over options, possibilities, opportunities, of ways he can prove himself. Seeing the crystal clear emotion in his eyes helps Yoongi understand just how important this is for the younger man, just how greatly the weight of his guilt has been affecting him this entire time.

Jeongguk seems deep in thought as he sips on his portion’s broth, voice laced with determination. “I should- I should bring you home to my mom. And, and, help you get to know the parts of me that changed. Build your trust in me again.”

Yoongi slurps his ramen, eyes twinkling at the other man. Jeongguk has a specific expression on his face that Yoongi knows to identify as the way resolution paints on the younger’s features. When he finishes his bite, he replies softly- “I’d love that, Jeongguk-ah. Really.” He ruffles Jeongguk’s chestnut hair, messing up the way it was neatly styled and receiving a sheepish huff from the other man. “But you’re going to have to act on these conclusions, you think you can handle it?”

A familiar look of determination overtakes the man’s face, an expression Yoongi grew up trusting to his grave. “Is that a challenge?” He smirks, eyes remaining soft. “I’ll put my all into this for you, hyung. I’ll prove to you how much you mean to me.”

And Yoongi trusts him to.

Later that night, as late as 2am, Jeongguk is sitting awake in his bed, busy with many thoughts and concerns. He writes down resolutions on a piece of paper and hangs it on his mirror.

It’s a bit overwhelming. A lot scary. Looking at the four lines scribbled neatly on the paper, they seem so simple, so straightforward. But executing them will be a lot more difficult than writing them down.

Jeongguk is most afraid of the third line. I need to be who I want to be, it reads, underlined three times.

Does Jeongguk even know who he wants to be? When he was younger, he wanted to be tough and cool, a mysterious copy of the tsundere archetype from all the anime he used to watch. He wanted to be uncomfortable to others, make them shift in their spots, so they could feel how he does on a daily basis. He thought it was cool and artsy, looking on the outside the way he felt inside. Today, though? If he tries to think about who he wants to be… all he can think about is to be a person Yoongi and Jimin can be proud to call their friend. Someone his mother can flaunt without having to hide the details. It’s not who he is right now. He needs to sit and think with himself, he needs to take time and dedicate it to reflection. Think what parts he isn’t at peace with in himself, what he’s got to change, to make this work. He has to make this work.

Jeongguk sends another look to the piece of paper staring back at him accusingly.

I need to ask for help.

I need to communicate my needs.

I need to be who I want to be.

I need to prove I’m trying using actions.

He stares at the second line a bit longer. I need to communicate my needs. Then he picks up his phone.

To: Yoongi-hyungi
[02:34] hi hyung
[02:34] I’m going to need some time to myself to think about all this
[02:35] I’ll let u know when I’ve got my shit figured out and we could pick a day for u to come over if u’d like!!!
[02:36] shit I hope I didn’t wake u up
[02:36] just.
[02:36] thank u for today. I’m taking this seriously ok? I’m grateful to have you again
[02:37] ok. bye now

And then he tries to go to sleep, knowing the following days are going to be difficult, and challenge him in ways he hasn’t been challenged in two whole years, since he’s given up on himself in the midst of his family crisis. Yoongi is worth it all though. And much, much more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s music theory class again. Yoongi is sitting in the far back, not in his usual seat in the middle. He’s too in his head to pay attention, so he at least doesn’t want to zone out in front of the professor.

It’s been a few days since Jeongguk has sent him the texts, but Yoongi finds himself staring at the screen of his phone every couple of minutes, as if soon he’ll receive another text, that Jeongguk has thought it all over and wants to see him. Yoongi doesn’t really understand his emotions, they’re a bit all over the place, but he can clearly recognize the fact that there’s fear in the back of his head. Doubt is creeping into his subconsciousness and making him go over every single what if. Every single scenario. Especially the one in which Jeongguk decides this is too much for him, and chooses to fall back into being familiar strangers with him instead. Yoongi thought he moved on from the past, of the fear of neglect and betrayal. Yet here he is, palms sweaty at the thought of Jeongguk choosing to leave again.

It’s funny, really. Maybe his plan to get Jeongguk to forgive himself could be useful for him, too, and not be just a pretense with Jeongguk’s favor in mind.

If Jeongguk doesn’t actually choose to drop him again, that is.

Only later, when he’s exiting the art department to get to his next lecture, does he realize checking his phone so often and worrying was useless. Jeongguk is sitting on a bench outside the building, one leg pulled up to his chest, hands running through his messy hair as it falls into his eyes, staring into the horizon absentmindedly. The only sign that he isn’t just lounging around and is in fact waiting for someone- for Yoongi- is his fingertips tapping on his thigh with impatience. When his eyes catch on Yoongi’s form advancing outside the building, he shoots up from the bench with a smile and quickly walks towards him.

“Hyung!” He calls, grin widening.

“Hey, Gguk-ah, how are you feeling?” Yoongi smiles softly. He has to admit, it’s only been a couple of days but he really started missing Jeongguk’s presence. Habits die hard, they say, and lately this man has been inserting himself into his life too often to not become one.

Jeongguk is beaming at him, bunny teeth on display. “I’m good, hyung. Thought about a lot of things, I’m feeling optimistic about this.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s smile grows until his gums are peeking out. “I’m happy to hear.”

“I wanted to check if you were free this afternoon? Maybe you could come over? Or we could find another day that works for you.” Jeongguk’s doe eyes stare back at him, a new glint in them Yoongi can’t place yet, but the look of he thinks he really likes.

“Sure, I can do today.” Yoongi nods, not hiding his eagerness. He’s been waiting for this conversation for a few days now, even if it’s been mainly laced with worry and anxiety.

Jeongguk’s face lights up. “Yes! I’ll pick you up at five, then? Can’t wait to third wheel you and my mom while you two gossip about me in front of me.”

“To our defense, I’ll say in advance that it doesn’t count as gossiping if we say it to your face.” Yoongi smirks, nudging the younger with his elbow.

Jeongguk laughs, taking a few steps back. “Slander is punishable by law, hyung. Never forget that. I gotta head to class now, I’ll see you at five!”

“Bye!” Yoongi calls back, watching Jeongguk jog away in his oversized navy sweats that he’s surprised don’t fall off his hips.

Ah, Yoongi thinks. I’m such a dramatic loser, worrying so much over nothing. Of course Jeongguk would do exactly as he said- take some time to himself, and then contact Yoongi. Of course. Jeongguk had promised to try his best at this second shot at friendship, and as Yoongi knows him, the younger man never gives anything but his hundred percent.

Yoongi’s initial excitement doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by an undefinable churn in his gut that isn’t quite nervousness. After he gets off university grounds, he works on his coursework as he waits for 5pm to come around, checking the clock too often to actually concentrate.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin calls to him as Jeongguk’s car parks in their driveway. “I’m really happy you and Jeongguk are working things out.”

Yoongi mirrors Jimin’s soft smile, sends back a- “so am I”, and a goodbye, and then he’s outside and sitting in the passenger seat of Jeongguk’s car.

“Hi hyung,” the younger grins at him, starting to pull out of the driveway. “Is Jimin jealous that he isn't invited? I could see him looking at us through the window.”

“Oh he’s fine, don’t worry about him. I think he’s on cloud nine watching us getting along.” Yoongi snorts.

“I bet we gave him a hard time before.” Jeongguk smiles sheepishly. “Hyung, let’s hang out so often that he regrets ever allowing us to make up.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh, gummy smile in view. “Someone’s pretty demanding, hm?”

Jeongguk laughs lightly, sending a teasing gaze in Yoongi’s direction. “Gotta make up for two whole years. Better get in shape for this ride, hyung.”

“Let’s leave being in shape to you, Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi replies, eyes darting to the muscles moving in his arm as he turns the wheel, in comparison to his own skinny frame.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply back, rather sending Yoongi a look that could be described as knowing and embarrassed. The car ride is filled with their comfortable bickering and in no time Jeongguk is parking the car and the two of them are getting out of it to face a cozy front porch, all dark wood and fairy lights that Yoongi can’t even guess if were Jeongguk’s idea or his mother’s. Yoongi has to take a deep breath to ground himself before following Jeongguk inside the house itself, the sound of the door closing behind them causing his heartbeat to double its pace. When they enter the living room space, Jeongguk’s mom pops into view from the kitchen.

If he’s honest, after losing contact with Jeongguk, he never thought he would see her again. Definitely a pleasant turning of events.

“Min Yoongi!” She calls, getting off the couch and in their direction as she speaks. “It’s been so long! How are you sweetie?”

“I’m all good, Ms. Jeon- ah, wait, sorry-“ Yoongi stumbles over his words, realizing halfway through that he has no clue what Jeongguk’s mother’s birth surname is.

“It’s Choi now, darling, don’t worry about it. I told Jeonggukie to bring you over forever ago, what took him so long, huh? Just seeing you warms my heart.”

“Ah, it’s the same with me, Ms. Choi, I’m being sent back to Daegu just by seeing you here.” Yoongi smiles warmly. This feels halfway like coming home.

“How is your mother doing? Still giving you a hard time over school?” She asks, an expression of honest worry on her face.

“Ah, a bit, yes.” Yoongi chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe she’ll loosen up when I start working in the field after getting my degree. Or maybe not, who knows.”

“Ah, she’s always been stubborn, that mother of yours.” She shakes her head disapprovingly, but still remaining fond. Yoongi’s heart warms at the fact she remembers his struggles from years ago and cares enough to ask how he’s handling things. “Tell me if she goes overboard, I’ll give her a call. It’s been a while since I spoke to your mother anyway.”

Yoongi laughs, “I will, thank you for offering. I still owe you for convincing her to allow me to study here at all.”

She huffs, waving her hand. “Oh, don’t even think about it, it was a piece of cake. How’s your brother doing? Wedding preparations going alright?”

“Oh he’s doing good, has an internship at a hospital back home.” Yoongi speaks through pursed lips. He hasn’t spoken to his family in some time, everyone has been busy and he’s been trying to avoid unnecessary negativity contacting them entails. “His wife is in charge of the wedding prep. Am I going to see you there, Ms. Choi?”

“Why, of course! Wouldn’t miss it!“ She beams, sending a sly look in her son's direction. “And if Jeongguk is free from class, maybe he could join me, too.”

“I’m free!” Jeongguk squeaks out. “I’m totally free! Hyung, I’m definitely free.”

His mother cracks up at his eagerness. “Good. Now, I’ve got food on the stove top and we don’t want our dinner burnt, so you go do your thing and I’ll call you down when it’s time, alright?” She nods at the two before heading back into the kitchen with a smile.

Jeongguk grins at the newly scheduled trip back to his hometown, and signals for Yoongi to follow his lead as he takes him to his room. Jeongguk shifts his weight nervously as he opens the door and steps in, looking around nervously to make sure everything is in place.

The truth is, Yoongi doesn’t know what he was expecting, but Jeongguk’s room makes him chuckle in surprise. “You- It’s a lot nerdier than I would have expected, if I’m honest. Are those anime figurines?”

“Hell yeah, hyung.” Jeongguk grins, moving to sit on the bed.

Yoongi keeps looking around, moving his gaze from the small figurines on the desk, to the familiar posters of no-name punk bands Jeongguk has had since he was twelve. The room screams Jeongguk in many different ways- the perfectly organized closet, the fitted sheets folded neatly, the remnants of his hobbies and interests- a goddamn punching bag laying in the corner, romance manhwas sitting on a shelf sorted by color. Walking around, he notices a little slip of paper on the mirror, smiles as his heart clenches in his chest at the handwritten words.

“You still listen to those bands?” Yoongi asks, hand sliding over a well-kept poster on the wall.

The younger one mulls it over with a hum. “Well, when I’m in the mood. The songs are a bit depressing but they make me feel warm with nostalgia.”

“A bit depressing?” Yoongi laughs. He sits down next to Jeongguk on the bed, leaning back on his elbows as he looks at the younger man. “Should I tell you a secret?”

“Oh?” Jeongguk cocks an eyebrow up. “Is hyung keeping secrets from me now?”

Yoongi chuckles, ruffling his hair just to have something to do with his hands, blond strands falling over his face. “When I was wondering why you weren’t contacting me, I missed you pretty badly. I ended up listening to a few of the songs you used to listen to because they reminded me of you, and they’re still in my playlist to this day.”

“They are?” Jeongguk jumps, unadulterated excitement in his face. “Which songs? Put them on right now! I can’t believe hyung willingly listens to emo music, you used to say they were too loud!”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, eyes trained on the younger. “They are. But in my head they’re your songs, and that makes them not so bad.”

The look Jeongguk sends back at him, filled with unidentified emotion, makes it a little bit harder to breathe for him, heartbeat skipping a few beats. Something about Jeongguk is a bit different today, Yoongi notices, as if he let his walls down, allowing Yoongi to see an unfiltered version. As if he’s giving Yoongi a peek into his vulnerable heart, and the elder finds it impossible to not return the favor.

They spend the next hour just lounging around on Jeongguk’s bed, a blended playlist of both their preferred songs playing on a speaker in the background of their conversation.

“-honestly, that’s when I learnt to let go. Dance with Daejun-ah and Ryeok-ah was just us messing around half the time. We were vibing, not taking anything too seriously. It removed a lot of the pressure I was feeling, and so I was able to see dancing as something fun, and not a responsibility I have to take care of. First semester, we almost missed our showcase’s general practice because we were hungover after a senior’s party. But we made it on time, and we did really well. I thought to myself, hey, I don't have to work that hard to be good. Of course, that’s a really unmotivated thing to think, but I was unmotivated back then, so it fit. These days, I think hard work means everything. Give me enough time to do something I like, I’ll make sure I’m the best I can be. It’s funny how your mental state can make such a difference on the way you act.”

“Gguk-ah, I have to ask. Do you think if we stayed friends all this time, you’d still end up friends with them right now?” Yoongi asks, staring intently at the sudden change in Jeongguk’s expression. From wistful, to taken aback.

His eyebrows furrow as he thinks it over. With an almost guilty expression, Jeongguk replies, “no. I wouldn’t have. I would have been in a very different state of mind.”

Yoongi nods at the confession, one that Jeongguk looks a bit conflicted to admit. He thinks that even if Jeongguk is reluctant to consider it, this confession tells Yoongi everything he needs to know about the nature of Jeongguk’s relationship with his friends, and the circumstances they unfolded in.

Eventually, they’re called back for dinner. Sitting down at their kitchen table, Yoongi thinks of how long it’s been since he’s had his mothers’ cooking.

“Ah, Ms. Choi, your food is as good as I remember it to be.” Yoongi smiles, stuffing his mouth with delicious homemade dishes.

“Hyung, don’t try too hard, she likes you enough already.” Jeongguk snorts, his own chopsticks lifting up food to his mouth.

Yoongi huffs, nudging the younger with his elbow. “I’m being honest, Jeongguk-ah. It’s really good.”

“So, what have you been up to in the time Jeonggukie was too stubborn to bring you home?” Jeongguk’s mom questions, smiling with the teasing bite in her voice directed at her son. The younger man clearly sulks at the words.

“I’m just studying, to be honest. Hanging out with friends. Nothing too serious.” Yoongi replies, slightly embarrassed at the uneventful routine his life sums up to.

“He’s got his hands full with me and Jimin-hyung,” Jeongguk snickers.

“You are quite a handful,” his mother laughs. “You two used to be glued at the hip. I remember at some point me and your mother suspected there was something going on between the two of you.”

Yoongi laughs, unbothered by the implication, having been just as curious of the nature of Jeongguk’s behavior towards him at some point in their teenage years. “Nothing like that, no. But I have to admit I had my suspicions about Gguk-ah.”

“Huh?” Jeongguk gasps, a shade pinker than before. “Hyung, you thought I was into you?”

“I thought maybe you were, after you got over Sungwoo-ssi. But it didn’t bother me, so I didn’t mention it.” Yoongi shrugs.

“I- seriously? Why, did I do anything weird? I don’t recall anything-“ Jeongguk’s eyes turn wide with panic.

“Nothing weird, Gguk-ah. Just my intuition, I guess. But it could have been my imagination, too, if you say you didn’t like me like that. It’s all good, anyway, it’s in the past.”

“Huh…” Jeongguk says, gaze focused on his food. He seems deep in thought, probably trying to think back on the time, figure out why Yoongi thought what he did.

“Saying I was disappointed to not see you when we moved is an understatement,” Jeongguk’s mom says to Yoongi. “I never thought you two would be separated. But as long as you came back to each other eventually, I’m glad. A friendship as long as yours really is precious.”

“It is, it is.” Jeongguk says, eyes locked on his hyung’s and filled with emotion. “And I’m going to make sure to treat it like it is, too.”

Yoongi looks at the other man, seeing him already with his eyes on him and that trustworthy determination of his in them.

It sounds to Yoongi a lot like a promise.

2018

“Hyung, have I told you you’re pretty today?”

Yoongi lifts his eyes from his phone screen to the boy sitting next to him on the couch, drowning in a black band t-shirt and holding his legs to his chest. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, a bit of amusement evident on his face. “Yes, you have, actually.”

“Yeah?” Jeongguk says with a soft smile, eyes trained on the TV, one of his romance dramas playing. “Well I’m saying it again.”

Yoongi huffs with a laugh. “Someone’s extra weird and sappy these days. What, your brain finally snapped from all the drama consumption?”

Yoongi is telling the truth, trying to prod lightly at the actual subject he wants to discuss without being too obvious about it. Lately Jeongguk has started a habit of sweet-talking his hyung whenever they’re meeting up after school hours, and Yoongi isn’t too sure what intentions he has, but he sure is trying to figure it out without pointing it out.

“What’s so bad about thinking you’re pretty? It’s quite a common thought, if you ask around.” Jeongguk raises a challenging brow, still not looking away from the TV screen or facing Yoongi.

The older snorts, ruffling Jeongguk’s long hair fondly, making it get in his eyes. It grabs the younger’s attention and forces him to capture his elder’s eyes. “Never said it was a bad thing, just new.”

Jeongguk looks away again, eyes running over the screen, unfocused. “Not so new…”

“Hmm?” Yoongi questions without words, not knowing exactly how to reply to the younger’s confession that he seems to not pay much importance to. It might not be a big deal for the younger, but in Yoongi’s head puzzle pieces are slowly piecing together.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty, hyung. Even when we were kids. You barely had any acne when we were growing up, while my face was filled with spots. Plus, your skin is smooth and squishy, like a dumpling, so when you blush I can see it really well. You have pink pouty lips to match, this enigmatic sort of cat-eyes and long lashes… Hyung, you could probably model if you wanted to.” The honest string of compliments and affirmations flows out of Jeongguk’s mouth with the seriousness of citing poetry and the abashment of reminiscing old, less promising days. Yoongi finds he’s slightly embarrassed at being in the receiving end of them, but that he likes the small way in which the younger’s lip is quirked up as he describes his features.

Yoongi gapes for a few moments, long enough to gather himself Jeongguk’s nervous glance, but not enough to leave him to struggle with uncertainty.

“Did I embarrass you, hyung?” Jeongguk’s big doe eyes stare back at him intently. “It means I don’t tell you enough, then. I promise to compliment you more often from now on, Yoongi-hyung.”

“Ah, that’s unnecessary, Jeongguk-ah. I appreciate the gesture and all but,” Yoongi laughs, a slight tightness to the sound. “Don’t you think there are other people you should be going around drowning in compliments? Maybe a certain… Sungwoo?”

Jeongguk huffs. “Sungwoo-hyung is nothing like you. You’re someone completely different to me from him. I think I’ve gotten over him now, though. He won’t ever like me anyway, and I heard him talk to one of the seniors in your class about how they’re forcing this other guy to do their homework, and I don’t wanna crush on someone who supports that.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Another puzzle piece clicks into place in Yoongi’s mind. “I don’t like him either, then.”

“Of course you don’t, ‘cause hyung is always on my side.” Jeongguk smiles to himself, not facing Yoongi but the sincerity in his expression speaks all the same.

“I am.”

Jeongguk smiles as his eyes focus back on the show he’s been trying to watch, although distracted by their conversation. A few moments pass before he’s pointing at the screen, where a tall handsome man is standing, saving the female lead from falling by grabbing her waist.

“You see him, hyung? That’s my type, Kang Taemoon. Ah, he’s so dreamy, all his dramas make me swoon. He’s got that type of face that’s both young and old, in a good way. Like he’s been through a difficult life but still kept his motives pure. I can just tell he’s a good guy, nothing like Sungwoo-hyung.”

“Is it the time of the day when I remind you that dramas encourage unrealistic expectations in relationships? And that being a fan of an actor is great but you don't actually know what his personality is like, only what he chooses to show you?”

Jeongguk shoots the elder a glare. “Are you this much of a party pooper with your other friends too?”

“Mm, not so much. What can I say, I am a bit protective of you, Gguk-ah.” The smile he sends back in the younger’s direction is meant to gain his forgiveness, but it seems to do a lot more than expected. Jeongguk’s head snaps away, smiling with his ears and neck painted a nice red.

“Well- you won’t catch me complaining about that, that’s for sure. I like hyung’s attention.” The honest admission slips through the younger’s lips without hesitation.

Yoongi takes a moment to digest the meaning of the words he hears.

“You sure do, don’t you?” He muses.

In his mind, he reaches a conclusion, now with more finality than ever. Jeongguk’s behavior can only be explained by the sheer fact he’s got some sort of crush on Yoongi. Maybe it’s his way of getting over Sungwoo, maybe it’s the comfort of familiarity, the warmth of feeling safe, the authenticity of their decade-long relationship. So Yoongi won’t say a damn word, because Yoongi doesn’t want to be the one to take those things away from him, not if he can help it.

He’ll let Jeongguk continue with his somewhat flirty ministrations, regard it as not more than casual banter, mere jokes or friendly teasing, and wait and hope that Jeongguk grows out of it with time.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

To: Gguk
[19:28] did you know that according to articles my mom read on naver, psychology isn’t actually a medical field?

From: Gguk
[19:29] sounds like a really credible source hyung
[19:29] I bet she knows what she’s talking about
[19:30] you’re at the pre wedding dinner right? what does doctor hyung has to say about this

To: Gguk
[19:30] that I should have studied neuroscience instead

From: Gguk
[19:30] boringgggggggg I like therapist hyung a lot better

To: Gguk
[19:31] me too Gguk
[19:32] lmao halmeoni told me to get off my phone
[19:32] so I was like, halmeoni I’m emailing my professor about something very urgent, I’ll finish up asap!!!
[19:33] sike, im just uncomfortable being criticized by my entire family so my introvert ass prefers disconnecting from the situation :)

From: Gguk
[19:33] oh so I’m pretending to be your professor now?
[19:33] should I ring u to talk about a Very Important Project and rescue u from ur hell?

To: Gguk
[19:34] shit, that might actually work

From: Gguk
[19:34] want me to?

Yoongi is busy typing a reply when he hears his name.

“-Yoongi-yah, what about you, huh? When are you going to bring someone over?” It’s his uncle’s obnoxious voice from the far left of the long table fully seating their entire extended family, it rings in his ears and grabs his attention from his phone before he can press ‘send’.

“Huh? Eh- I’m not seeing anyone, so.” He mumbles back, lacking his usual eloquence.

“Yoongi is very preoccupied with his studies,” his mother replies dryly, with a tone contradicting her words, her eye contact with Yoongi communicating her dismay. Yoongi breaks eye contact, settling on playing with the food on his plate, swirling his glass of juice around in its cup.

“Ah, well, it’s not like there are grandchildren on the table anyway, no need to rush and worry.” His aunt mutters, and something about her tone of voice hits Yoongi the wrong way.

But before he can say something that’ll make him the gossip of the dinner table for weeks, his phone starts ringing, playing the song he has as his ringtone loudly and disrupting his attempt at defending himself. He looks at the caller ID, and it’s an unknown number. With a frown, he looks back at his aunt and stands to his feet. “I’d love to educate you about this, aunt, since you seem to really need it, but I have to take this call so it’ll have to wait.”

And then he presses ‘accept’ and brings his phone to his ear, walking away from the fully occupied dinner table and up the stairs to his old childhood bedroom.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t reply, I thought you might have gotten into trouble for using your phone.” A breathy melodic voice that can only belong to one person on this entire planet. Yoongi can’t help but notice his muscles loosen as he lays down on his bed, phone clutched to his ear.

“Ah, Gguk-ah. You just saved me from blowing over my lowkey homophobic aunt.” Yoongi laughs, fatigue clear in his voice.

“Aw, sucks I didn’t wait a few more minutes to call, then. If anyone can call her out it’s you and that mouth of yours, hyung.” Jeongguk breathes out a laugh. Yoongi wonders what has him so breathless, hearing him almost panting in the other line. It’s kind of distracting. “Wanna share what she said so I could get angry with you?”

“Just the usual grandchildren shit. Where are you, huh? You’re breathing really hard in my ear.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry hyung.” He laughs. “I just finished working out when I got your text. Gotta look good in my suit, don’t I?”

Yoongi snorts. “Keep pretending you don't workout on the daily, no one believes you anyway with that build.”

“If hyung notices then I guess I’m doing just fine.” Jeongguk’s smugness doesn’t pass by Yoongi’s ears. “Back to you. Ah, it’s been two years, have they still not gotten over you being into dick and psychology?”

“Yah, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi laughs, the crudeness in Jeongguk’s lexicon a new addition in those few years that Yoongi has yet to get used to. “I don’t think they ever will, but it’s alright. Don't need them to. I mean, it’d be nice if they were supportive, but if they aren’t they’re going to be the ones losing me, not the other way around. If they want to only see me when relatives get married, if they want me to not come back home for the holidays, they’re on the right path.”

Jeongguk hums, a door closing and an engine starting in the background. “That’s the spirit, hyung. Love it when you’re being true to yourself. Fuck them, you only deserve support in your life. I’ll be there tomorrow and I promise you we will gossip about every single one of them until there’s nothing to say anymore.”

There’s a soft smile on Yoongi’s lips as he hears the younger's voice. “I’m really happy you’re free to come. Ah, I would have lost my damn mind being there by myself.”

“That’s what friends are for, hyung.” Yoongi can hear the man’s fondness through the phone. “Should I drop by your house tomorrow when I arrive?”

“You wanna get ready here, like old times?” Yoongi asks, remembering Jeongguk locking himself up in Yoongi’s room for hours, preparing himself for his graduation ceremony, not allowing a single hair strand out of place, a single fold in his uniform.

“Hyung,” he coos. ”I'd love to. I’ll drop by right when we arrive. Shit, I hope I don’t start crying.”

Yoongi chuckles. “I think you’ll be just fine. Make sure you’re on time though, yeah? I bet you still take ages to get ready, and I’m not coming late to my own hyung’s wedding because Jeongguk’s hair just wasn’t right yet.”

“Oh god, I really do take ages. I’ll try my best to speed it up, hyung!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When wedding day arrives, and Yoongi is rushing through the house putting on his black suit blazer over a white button up, there’s a knock on the front door.

When he opens the door and Jeon Jeongguk is standing there, in front of his childhood home’s front door, the nostalgia that washes over him makes him stop in his tracks, all traces of rush and stress disappearing to allow space for utter awe. He finds it so hard to believe, that this man is standing before him. The last time Yoongi was in this home, he was still hurt and upset about what Jeongguk had done, the way that he had left him. Now, all he feels is fondness.

“Hi,” Yoongi smiles, eyeing the other man. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and sweats, in his left hand a stuffed backpack and on his right arm is laid his suit on a hanger. “Long time no see.”

“Too goddamn long,” Jeongguk laughs, and just like out of habit, he walks into Yoongi’s home as if it’s his own, shutting the door after the both of them and already putting his long legs to work, taking self-assured strides to Yoongi’s room like it’s second nature.

When they’re both in Yoongi’s childhood room and Jeongguk is carefully laying his suit out on the bed, the younger asks, “your parents are at the venue already?”

“Mhm. You got here early, we have an hour and a half until we have to leave.” Yoongi starts looking around his room for his tie.

Jeongguk shoots his hyung an amused look, “I told you I’d speed it up for you, didn’t I?”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh. “Then go get dressed already while I finish up.”

And that’s exactly what they do. Yoongi runs around to find his tie in the living room, his socks in his room and his dress shoes out front. He’s checking out the way he looks in the mirror, straightening out his blazer and buttoning it so it’s form-fitting on the waist, when Jeongguk comes out of the bathroom with his own suit on, looking graceful and put-together, enough to make Yoongi jealous.

“How do I look?” Jeongguk gives a little twirl, eyes twinkling.

Yoongi sort of wants to punch him, because Jeongguk just might be looking nicer than Yoongi’s hyung, who’s getting fucking married- the light muted gray of his suit looks dashing on him, two buttons open in the white dress shirt underneath. The pants fit him nice and snug from his small waist to his thighs that fill them up just right. But the best part might have to be how his hair is still messy- it breaks the illusion and makes Yoongi feel fondness erupt in his chest.

“Looking good, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi nods, sending him a sly smile. “Working out has been going well, I see?”

Jeongguk barks out a laugh, a teasing grin on his face. “You tell me, hyung.”

Jeongguk grabs his backpack and moves next to the mirror. Yoongi watches as he pulls out hair gel and starts brushing his hair back, parted on the left and exposing his forehead. It doesn’t take him as long as it used to when they were in high school, no, but the concentration in his eyes is still the same. It’s when Jeongguk pulls out makeup from his bag that Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You still use makeup?” He asks, surprise clear in his tone.

Jeongguk looks back at him, concealer spots decorating his face. “Of course. I don’t go overboard with the eyeliner like before, though, no,” he laughs, “but it is a wedding, hyung. Should I put some on you too when I’m done? Doll you up?”

Yoongi doesn’t really understand why his cheeks feel a little bit hot, or why Jeongguk’s words feel like a compliment when they are just a figure of speech. “Um, sure. We’ve got extra time. But- not too much, yeah?”

Jeongguk smiles at his hyung’s trust in his skills, especially after knowing only the worst of Jeongguk’s makeup looks. “I’ll make sure it fits your complexion, hyung. Soft and delicate.”

Yoongi isn’t sure those are the best fitting words to describe him, but doesn’t comment on it. While Jeongguk is busy with his own makeup, Yoongi fixes his hair. Still his signature fluffy blonde strands, just slightly parted to appear more formal. He might have stolen some of Jeongguk’s gel to pull that off, the younger laughing at him through applying cool-toned eyeshadow around his eyes.

“This is really nice, hyung.” Jeongguk breathes out. “Just hanging out like this is really nice.”

“I like it, too. Reminds me of my graduation ceremony.” Yoongi looks at the younger man through the mirror they’re both trying to use at the same time. Yoongi can easily see the smile spread on Jeongguk’s cherry-tinted lips, even with his back turned to him as he finishes up his makeup.

“What do you say, hyung? Have I gotten a hundred times better than my high school days makeup, or what?” Jeongguk turns around so he’s facing Yoongi, bending his knees slightly so he’s Yoongi’s height. His eyes closed so Yoongi could see the saturated brown color on his eyelids, and his lips tinted rosy, pulled up in a cocky grin. Yoongi runs his eyes on the man’s features, and he truly looks the best Yoongi has seen of him. His skin tone is even, but for a calculatingly placed blush that makes him appear softer. His eye makeup compliments the brown of his eyes and the gray of his suit, and Yoongi can bet he’s planned every detail of this look beforehand, ever the perfectionist.

“Definitely a step up from your emo eyeliner days, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi laughs, before adding softly- “You look lovely.”

Jeongguk’s eyes open and from this close distance Yoongi can notice a tinge of a pleased blush- the real kind, underneath the layer of the kind Jeongguk purposely placed on his cheeks. “Thank you, hyung. Want me to do yours?”

And yeah, Yoongi nods without much hesitation, because if he agreed before, after seeing Jeongguk’s result, he doesn’t doubt his makeup will be on par with the one his brother has gotten done professionally.

“Sit down on the bed, hyung.” Jeongguk requests and Yoongi follows, sitting down, Jeongguk brings his makeup over by the bed and much to Yoongi’s surprise, sitting down on his knees between Yoongi’s legs. Yoongi finds himself flustered, but denies income of any further thoughts on the position. The height difference works to their benefit- their faces are almost the same height in that stance, even if the proximity could be misinterpreted very easily. “I’m just going to use a bit of concealer, because your skin is in really good condition, hyung. And then we’ll do your eyes a sweet coral, I’ve got some golden glitter that will make your eyes even prettier.”

Yoongi ignores the backhanded compliment for the sake of his reddened ears. “Do whatever you find right, you’ve got good tastes.”

Jeongguk smiles, and then his familiar concentrated gaze is back in place, eyebrows furrowed and slightly biting his lip ring as he works- a habit Yoongi has especially noticed lately. His hand reaches for the concealer, swiping the brush lightly under Yoongi’s eyes and around his nose. Yoongi follows Jeongguk’s instructions, looking up to allow gentle pats of the tips of Jeongguk’s fingers where concealer was applied. Jeongguk’s palms rest around Yoongi’s jaw as his fingers spread the makeup, warm and steady.

“Close your eyes, hyung.” Jeongguk whispers, feeling Yoongi’s lashes tickle his fingers as he complies. The soft pats of Jeongguk’s trained fingers continue around the elder’s eyelids, spreading a coral base color, before removing the warmth of his hands in order to opt for a thin brush, dipping it in a darker brown to line Yoongi’s lashline with.

“You have the prettiest lashes,” Jeongguk mumbles almost to himself. Running his hands gently over the small hairs, causing Yoongi’s eyes to squint, before carefully covering them with mascara.

“You keep calling me pretty…” Yoongi laughs in embarrassment, denying himself the view of Jeongguk’s expression.

“It’s ‘cause you are. If you modeled makeup products, I bet they’d be sold out in seconds. If not by me then by everyone else.” Jeongguk chuckles. He angles Yoongi’s head up by the chin, firm fingers steady as he lines along Yoongi’s eye. “Every person who wants to look soft and fairy-like will want to buy whatever you have on.”

“I highly doubt that,” he laughs, making the mistake of opening his eyes when he feels Jeongguk’s hand leave his skin, coming into view with the younger’s face angled in concentration, unpromptedly close to his. He clears his throat and looks to the side of the room, choosing to look at his door rather than at his childhood friend’s focused eyes so close, staring back into every inch of Yoongi’s face with intent. “But- eh, thanks for the compliment, I guess. Coming from someone who looks like an idol, I think it counts.”

As Jeongguk laughs long enough for his bunny teeth to come on display and his eyes to squint, he opens a pink tube, and Yoongi thinks that the pace in which his heart is beating is a bit overboard, unproportional to the events taking place. He also thinks that the way Jeongguk’s knuckle tattoos look in the mirror against his much paler skin tone is very distracting, if the action of the younger patting down cream blush over his cheeks -so close that his breath can be felt on his skin- doesn’t leave him disoriented enough.

Is it because Jeongguk is in his childhood home with him that he’s nervous? Is it the anxiety of the wedding for his introverted self? Or is his nervous system a wreck because Jeongguk is an attractive man in a suit in such close proximity?

Shit, Yoongi has been single for far too long if these thoughts are swimming around in his mind.

Most importantly, Yoongi thinks that he should definitely distract himself from his very irrational and very unceremonious thoughts, before they get to escalate.

“Jeonggukie, how do you feel being here after everything?” Ah, good one, Yoongi. Way to bring the situation from confusing to depressing.

The change in atmosphere doesn’t pass by the younger, who looks up from Yoongi’s painted cheeks to gaze into his eyes- sparkly doe ones showcasing every single emotion in his heart, always honest with Yoongi, always transparent to Yoongi’s gaze.

“I’m grateful, hyung. I didn’t think I’d get to ever be here again.” He laughs solemnly, eyes darting to the side as his head fills with thoughts. “I’m still- I still have a way to go, to- to forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I’m happy to be with you. It’s easier when I’m with you, ‘cause I can be reminded when I’m overly critical of myself, that you would never willingly spend time in my presence if you were angry and resentful towards everything- what I’ve done, who I am. It isn’t as easy to hate myself for hurting you when I'm with you.”

Yoongi’s heart is clenching in his chest at the honesty, but it’s also skipping beats over Jeongguk’s wrist resting against his thigh, his body leaning closer unconsciously as he pauses his work to muse over Yoongi’s words. Dear god, Yoongi thinks. What the fuck is wrong with me today? “Do you- when you’re by yourself, do you still think-?”

Jeongguk’s head turns to Yoongi, scanning his expression from forehead to chin, a cheeky smile spreading on his lips, slightly curved at one end. His tongue darts out to toy with the ring on his bottom lip as his eyes meet Yoongi’s. “Hyung, are you asking me if I think about you when I’m alone?”

Yoongi all but sputters at the implication, eyes shot so wide it must be borderline comical. “I didn’t- it’s not- I didn’t even mean it like that, god, Jeongguk-ah.”

The laugh Jeongguk lets out is smug but sheepish, head thrown back. “Yoongi-hyung, you’re so cute. I'm avoiding the question because the answer is yes.” Honesty spilling out his mouth like air, he runs his eyes along Yoongi’s features, his laugh dying down. He lifts up from his bag the same lip tint he’s used on himself, cherry red and velvety. Instead of placing the product directly on Yoongi’s lips, he paints a dot on his pointer finger, smearing it around with his thumb. His gaze focuses on the natural pink of Yoongi’s lips, eyes glued to the small pouty shape. “I just happen to enjoy teasing you too.”

Yoongi’s leg is jumping up and down, nervous and impatient and going senseless with the direction his thoughts are heading at the almost physical weight of the other man’s gaze on his lips. And oh no, no, no, Jeongguk’s painted finger is plopping gently on Yoongi’s bottom lip, rubbing the color in soft pats on the plushness of Yoongi’s lips, pulling it with him with every rub. Yoongi looks anywhere, anywhere but in front of him, anywhere but at the other man sitting on his knees between his legs in a goddamn suit, touching his lips- what the fuck-

But then Yoongi feels the lack of warmth on his skin, and his eyes are meeting Jeongguk’s concerned ones, eye contact direct and intimate. “Am I making you uncomfortable, hyung?” The younger asks tentatively.

“H-huh? No, I’m good. Why would you think that?”

Jeongguk raises a worried brow, hand hanging in front of Yoongi’s lips, a few inches away from contact. “It’s just, your body language is a bit… tense. I'm sorry I didn’t bring any cream brushes, I didn’t think I’d need any.”

“I swear it’s okay, really, it’s just-“ Yoongi shifts in his place, ears tinting red in embarrassment. “It’s been a while since I’ve been this physically close to someone, I guess I’m a bit… flustered. God, this is embarrassing.”

Jeongguk laughs softly at the other man’s confession. There’s a glint in his eyes as he scrunches his nose, leaning closer and saying- “do I make you nervous, hyung?”

“It’s not that it's you.” Yoongi stresses, his most intelligible theory to explain his behavior slipping out of his mouth. He feels like he should be desperately defending himself, even though nothing about Jeongguk is emitting any sort of offense. The other man seems calm and in his element, so Yoongi is reminded again of Jeongguk's reputation as a flirt. Is he actively being flirted with, or is that just a casual way in which Jeongguk teases nowadays? “Just- you happen to be an attractive man, it has nothing to do with you being Jeongguk. You can- you can continue, we don’t have long anyway.”

The younger’s head tilts, taking a few seconds to stare back at Yoongi with a satisfied smirk, seeming to take Yoongi’s words in and mull them over. When he finally speaks, there’s pleased finality in his tone, and there are soft fingers back on Yoongi’s lips. “So, you think I’m attractive.”

Yoongi looks back at the door of his room- a spot he’s beginning to like, having no trace of Jeongguk in it, which the rest of his vision seems to greatly occupy. He scoffs lightly, “As if you aren’t aware that you’re handsome.”

Jeongguk tries to catch Yoongi’s eyes, looking, searching. “There’s a difference between handsome and attractive, hyung. You said I’m attractive.”

Yoongi chuckles nervously, not knowing whether to admit to it or not, not knowing the implications it might make on Jeongguk. It doesn’t help that with every syllable his lips make, they brush against Jeongguk’s finger, distracting him from making properly thought-out decisions. “You talk as if you haven’t been called that a million times.”

“Not by you, never by you.” Jeongguk shakes his head. “By people I fuck? Sure. By people who hit on me at a bar? Yeah. Never by you, hyung. I think I like it a lot better when it’s coming from you.”

And, god, is Yoongi reading too much into this, or was what Jeongguk just said suggestive? The offhanded reminder that Jeongguk knows exactly what he’s doing, that he’s been complimented the same way by many, many other people- it makes Yoongi weirdly self-conscious. He really wants Jeongguk to finish up his lip so he could finally breathe again.

But Jeongguk’s fingers take their sweet time rubbing lip tint on his lips to perfection -color concentrated on his inner lips, and blended outwards into a plump look- staining his own skin in the process.

“Alright,” Jeongguk says, finally relieving Yoongi’s nervous system and removing his hands from his lips. “Glitter, and we’re all done.”

His finger dips into shimmery eyeshadow, and he spreads it across Yoongi’s eyelids in calculated pats. “I knew this would look pretty on you. Let me see if I need some finishing touches…”

And then Jeongguk is staring at Yoongi’s face with intention, focusing on every inch of his skin as if a single flaw in his work would be catastrophic. Yoongi doesn’t know how to handle the scrutiny, so he looks away.

“Hyung, need your eyes on me,” Jeongguk says, moving the elder’s face back towards him so gently that it just might have been Yoongi’s own doing. And so Yoongi has to endure his stomach flipping and his ears turning bright red and Jeongguk’s eyes scanning his face, hand still holding Yoongi’s chin where he positioned his face from.

Yoongi thinks he might have to sit down with himself after this is all over and done with, to figure out what the hell just happened, why the hell his reaction to Jeongguk is suddenly so severe, so uncalled for. There is a lot for him to unpack here, and in Jeongguk’s presence his mind isn’t appearing to work so productively today.

“There we go, hyung. All pretty and dolled up. Shall we prepare to head out?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The wedding is lovely, Jeongguk thinks. It’s a Friday afternoon, the sun is shining brightly down on them, white bouquets decorate the entire space along with greenery and grass, and everyone is clad in nice suits and fancy dresses. Yoongi has left him with an apologetic look to join his family at the reception to welcome the guests, so Jeongguk is accompanied by his mother and a few of Yoongi’s aunties around a round table, chit-chatting as they wait for the bride and groom to begin the ceremony.

Usually, Jeongguk would be on his second glass of wine by now, but he’s promised Yoongi he would drive them back to his home, as Yoongi is trying to avoid contact with his family as much as possible these days. From the overly loquacious gossip lacking any sort of self-preservation he hears from Yoongi’s aunties, he can really understand why. They might not talk directly about Yoongi around him, probably remembering him as his best friend, but the comments they make offhandedly while discussing Yoongi’s hyung, their message is clear as day. Jeongguk doesn’t have a big extended family- his dad’s side of the family is irrelevant, and his mother only has one brother who lives on the other side of the globe, quite out of contact, so it’s just him and her. He’s never gotten to experiencing anything quite like what Yoongi described of his family holidays- except that one time his parents went on vacation when he was twelve and had him spend the holidays at the Mins’. It was an overwhelming experience for his introverted younger version, but thanks to that he can almost recognize some of the guests he’s seen around.

Except for the irritation of being forced to listen to old ladies gossip and smile politely when he’s addressed, Jeongguk is having a nice time. It’s been a while since he’s spent so long in his mother’s presence, and the way she hits his shin with hers at the ladies’ exceptionally controversial chit-chat makes him giggle and share a knowing look, gossiping right back at them with their eyes.

“You look cheerful today,” his mother notes, fixing a stray strand of hair on his forehead. “Did you have fun at Yoongi’s?”

“We were just getting ready, but I felt like a kid at an amusement park.” He chuckles, grin not faltering once. “I think life is kind of smiling at me right now, mom.”

Her eyes are soft when they look back at him, content. “Hearing that makes me very happy, Jeonggukie. You’re good for each other, always have been.”

“You think I’m good for him?” Doe eyes sparkle with a tinge of hope.

Her eyes lock on something behind him, tone turning a bit worried. “If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be coming to find you right now. He seems a bit upset.”

Jeongguk turns around to look for the subject of their conversation. He finds Yoongi walking among the crowd of people, a straight line for where Jeongguk is sitting. Truthful to his mother’s words, there’s a prominent furrow in his brows as he advances towards them.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Jeongguk asks when the other man reaches him.

“Just-“ he starts, looking around at the numerous guests in hearing range. “Wanna walk with me?”

Jeongguk doesn’t have to reply, he simply raises from his seat with a nod to his mom, hand reaching for Yoongi’s back as they make their way away from the crowd. They find a private spot near the outdoor bar, sitting down side by side at a wooden bench surrounded by carefully picked flower arrangements, viewing the greenery of the venue. Yoongi’s shoulders are tense, so Jeongguk reaches up and kneads at the muscle of the shoulder closest to him as he waits for Yoongi to tell him what exactly is wrong, even if Jeongguk thinks he might be able to guess.

“I know it’s his special day and all, and that I should probably suck it up, but my mom is being extra insufferable today. Since the moment I arrived they- they all just keep treating me like this incompetent kid.” Yoongi’s legs are lifted on the bench so his knees are to his chest, arms dangling over his knees as he picks at his nails. “The ceremony is going to start soon, but I just had to take a moment away from them. I’m tired of constantly being proven I’m worth less to them than my hyung.”

“Yoongi-hyung, even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to be incompetent.” Jeongguk starts, eyes focused on the other man’s profile as he stares ahead, palm still working on his shoulder. “It’s good to take a break, sometimes responsibilities like this that you don't have much choice in are difficult. I’m happy I can be here for emotional support, and to let you know what they’re saying is bullshit.”

“I’m happy you’re here, too.” Yoongi replies, sending him a thankful look before continuing to gaze into the space ahead. “It’s nice to have someone on my side. I just wish they treated us equally, or at least pretended I’m not a second choice. What, is it the school thing? The gay thing? The moving away thing? Whatever it is, hyung has his own issues. The fact that he’s a doctor and is getting married to a woman- it doesn’t make him any more of their son than I am. But lashing out and defending myself only makes them look down on me for making a scene. It’s like the only way for me to win is to run away from them.”

“You don't need to win, hyung, you only need to do what’s best for yourself. If spending time here is hurting you, someone else might advise you to leave, but hyung, I know it isn’t a realistic option so I won’t say that. I do think you should look for a way to make this more bearable, though. Hangout with me, put some distance between you and them, I don’t know, get yourself a drink from the bar. If it helps, then it’s a good solution even if it’s temporary.”

“I don’t know if I should be taking your advice to get drunk right now, Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi chuckles, leaning his head to the side to allow Jeongguk’s impromptu massage more space. “I don’t want to run away from my problems.”

“I do admit I don’t have the best drinking ethic,” Jeongguk smiles sheepishly. “But I don’t think having one drink is running away. Your problem is being here. Running away would be leaving. As long as you’re staying, you’re facing your problem. If something can make it better, why not use it?”

Yoongi huffs, running a hand through his now messy blonde hair, no longer parted as he styled it before. “I don’t know if you’re making valid points, or if I have too little self-control right now.”

Jeongguk laughs, taking his words as confirmation, lifting himself up from the bench. “I’ll go get you a drink, hyung. Wait here.”

Yoongi watches the younger stroll up to the bar, smile lazily at the barman and make his order. When he returns, there’s a glass of whiskey in his hand, being passed into Yoongi’s. “Still have the same tastes, I hope?”

And yeah, he does. The fact that Jeongguk remembers his drinking preferences is surprising to him, even though he himself clearly recalls Jeongguk's old drinking habits when he used to sneak him some to try out. Two years aren’t that long, apparently.

So Yoongi sips his whiskey with a sigh, the ghost of Jeongguk’s pressure on his shoulder still felt, and wonders why the hell this afternoon is taking so long to end. “I think- I think I won’t be coming home for Chuseok this year.”

Jeongguk nods, “that’s fair. Whatever makes you happy, hyung. Think of your own wellness first. If you’d like to, you’re more than welcome to join me and my mother, I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you.”

A smile spreads on Yoongi’s lips upon hearing Jeongguk’s invitation. “Careful, I might just take you up to that offer.”

Jeongguk’s smirk looks back at him, head cocked to the side in a silent challenge. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, hyung.”

Before long, they’re called back inside for the ceremony to begin, and Yoongi has finished his drink. He’s not even close to being drunk, no, would need a few more of these to feel it kick in, but it gives a slight buzz that he can appreciate. That, combined with Jeongguk alongside him, makes the rest of the event a bit more manageable.

When his hyung and his now-wife are making their vows- Jeongguk’s cheeks are wet with tears that he doesn’t bother to hide or wipe away. Yoongi smiles fondly as he hears him sniffle, eternally the hopeless romantic boy he’s known for years, not a bit has changed in that aspect. Yoongi pats his back softly when he notices, gaining a wet laugh from the younger at being caught.

Yoongi himself is a bit emotional. He doesn’t resent his hyung, he’s happy for him- knows he shouldn’t hold it against him that’s he’s chosen to walk the path their family decided for him. He isn’t the reason Yoongi is being disregarded, his mother’s conditional parenting is. He’s glad his hyung has found someone he loves enough to marry, he really is.

When the ceremony is finished and the bride and groom have walked the aisle to the sound of sweet classical music, the crowd of guests heads to dine. Yoongi and Jeongguk make their way over to the dining area to look for their designated table alongside a few other younger people in Yoongi’s extended family and some of his hyung’s friends. They’re walking by the entrance having a laugh over something Jeongguk had said when Yoongi spots someone familiar in his vision. When he realizes who that person is, his expression hardens. He tries to wipe it off his face quickly, pretending he didn’t see anything, but Jeongguk is attentive and notices the shift before he can hide it. Yoongi can’t stop him from turning around to where Yoongi’s gaze had been set, and catching the eyes of his father.

The quick change of expression in the other’s face is unnerving. He turns back to Yoongi, facing away from his father, jaw set and eyes hard and cold and seething. Yoongi thinks that if he listens closely enough he might hear Jeongguk’s blood boiling under his skin.

It doesn’t get better- Yoongi sees the older man take steps in their direction. Yoongi hasn’t seen him in years, he appears a lot older than Yoongi remembers. The man distanced himself from the Min family after the divorce as they were close to Jeongguk’s mother, but apparently has decided to pay his respects and visit his hyung’s wedding. Yoongi speaks out a warning tentatively, “Jeongguk-ah, your father is coming over here.”

“Father? I don’t have a father, hyung. Only an ungrateful scumbag I’m unlucky enough to share half of my genes with.” The scowl on Jeongguk’s face is so deep, Yoongi’s stomach is in knots.

Yoongi helplessly watches the way Jeongguk’s body tenses as the man walks into their view, stopping in front of them. His hand unconsciously moves to the small of Jeongguk’s back in a small attempt to exude his support.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah. How have you been, kid? Didn’t expect to see you here.” The man speaks with a casual smile, as if he hasn’t disappeared on his son without a trace, leaving him with a burden too heavy for a kid to carry by himself.

“Can I help you?” Jeongguk sneers back, not holding back the animosity even in the slightest.

“Can’t a father come to greet his son? You’ve changed quite a lot, almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve been doing well?”

“Without you? Yeah. You’d be surprised how good I’ve been.” Jeongguk nods, eyes boring into the older man with cold anger. “Being abandoned by your own family when you need them most really gives you that push in the right direction, am I right?”

“Jeongguk-ah,” his father scolds, a warning tone of voice that Yoongi doesn’t like hearing directed at Jeongguk. His eyes dance around the people passing by the entrance, possibly hearing the heated words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I guess waking up one day and cutting all contact for two whole years without even as much as explaining yourself- I guess that doesn’t count as abandoning! I guess it doesn’t make you selfish and cowardly at all! My mistake!” Jeongguk’s smile is cynical and ridiculing.

“You don’t get to judge me until you’re in my shoes, Jeongguk-ah. I hope one day you can come to understand-“

“Oh, but I do understand, and I do get to judge.” Jeongguk’s hands are in fists, but his expression turns into something different from the coldness of before- a mixture of realization, of misery, of anger. Yoongi’s senses are on edge, palm tightening against Jeongguk’s back, he wants to grab the younger man and take him far away from here, where he doesn’t have to feel so shaken and disheveled. “Because I’ve worn your shoes, I’ve gotten up and left too, and maybe I’m just as bad, I’m probably just as horrible as you are. I guess the apple doesn’t fall that far away from the tree after all.” Jeongguk doesn’t send another look at his father, turns around, eyes focused on Yoongi as he shares the horrified realization that lead to his sudden change in demeanor, face twisting with regret- “Hyung, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry- I did to you the same thing he’s done to me. I’m so goddamn sorry-“

And Yoongi looks at him in utter shock, body moving on its own as he focuses on Jeongguk and Jeongguk only, ignoring his father, his confusion, and the eyes of the people around them, grabbing the younger man by the wrist, and leading them out of the room and into the privacy of the empty venue.

When they finally stop in a corner hidden by greenery and flowers, Yoongi turns to face the younger man. Jeongguk’s eyes are shot wide and sparkly wet as the sun hits his irises, tears threatening to spill out. His hand is shaky where Yoongi holds it from the wrist, and his breath comes out shallow.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Yoongi says, holding tightly with both his hands the base of Jeongguk’s palm. Steady and grounding. “Jeonggukie, listen to me. You are nothing like him. Do you understand? Nothing.”

“No, no-,” Jeongguk sniffles as he gasps, voice cracking. “No, I'm just as bad as him. I- I left you, and out of nowhere. I knew what it felt like and- and I still did it to you. I’m the worst- hyung, I can’t hate him for it, I can’t when I’ve done the same fucking thing. I didn’t call, I didn’t text, I didn’t explain until two years later. I’m so sorry I’m the worst, I’m the worst-“

“Gguk-ah, you aren’t like him. You didn’t leave me because I needed your help, because you were too selfish to take responsibility like he is. You left because of your own condition and based on your own circumstances, but both of us know that if I needed you, if I needed your help you’d never disappear.“ One of Yoongi’s hands leaves the younger's wrist and moves to rest against his shoulder, drawing circles on the fabric of his gray suit blazer. “And even if you left- you came back, didn’t you? You got yourself a second chance and you’re being so good to me and to yourself. You’re making up for it, working hard to get better and forgive yourself. That’s all I want.”

“I would have stayed if you needed me, hyung, I swear, I swear-“ Jeongguk stares at his hyung’s eyes, needing him to understand, to know. Jeongguk would have put his own struggles to the side if Yoongi had needed his support, if their situations were reversed.

“I know, Ggukie, I know. You’re good, and you care, you’re nothing like him. He deserves to get backlash for his actions, he’s selfish and self-centered. You’re kind, and you’re compassionate. A selfish person would never have hated themselves for what they’ve done like you have for years. You're growing and amending your mistakes, and I’m proud of you.”

Yoongi’s words seem to calm him down a bit, a vocal affirmation that slows down his heart rate and organizes his thoughts. He has always been quick-tempered; quick to anger, quick to panic, quick to jump to conclusions. But Yoongi’s effect on him has always been sobering in a way. Being around Yoongi, hearing him speak, feeling his presence, it brings Jeongguk back to his senses, clearing away the mist holding him back from thinking clearly. He takes a moment to sniffle the last of his tears and take a couple deep breaths.

“Okay. Okay hyung. I’m- I'm better now, I’m sorry for- for overreacting-“

“You're weren’t overreacting. You got scared, that’s only human. Look,” Yoongi brings his thumb up to Jeongguk’s eye, slightly rubbing at the wet patches of unshed tears that had dried up. “Your makeup is all smudged.”

Jeongguk whines, a tinge of dry humor in his eyes. “But I worked so hard on it…”

He pulls his phone camera and fixes what he can of his eye makeup, the ghost of Yoongi’s thumb still felt against his skin, and then with Yoongi’s protective hand around Jeongguk’s shoulder, they’re walking back inside. At the entrance, a worried Ms. Choi is standing, eyes trained on her son.

“Honey, are you okay?” She asks, a hand coming to rest on his bicep.

“I’m okay,” he nods, pulling Yoongi’s arm around him closer, seeking more of his comforting contact. His eyes turn cold- “did he say anything to you? Did he dare-“

“He didn’t. Cowardice has always been his forte.” She smiles sadly. “People are finishing up, some are preparing to leave. Do you guys want to head out to the Min’s while we wrap up here? We’ll join you soon.”

Yoongi looks at Jeongguk for his reply, seeing him nod tiredly. So Yoongi’s hand lowers to the small of Jeongguk’s back, lightly directing him towards the exit.

When Jeongguk is seated in the driver’s seat, hand twisting his car keys and making the engine roar, he doesn’t move to start the ride. Instead, his head leans back on the headrest, angled to look at Yoongi, who’s sitting next to him, returning a curious gaze. Jeongguk doesn’t talk, simply looking, eyes telling unintelligible stories Yoongi can’t decipher, staring deep into the elder’s eyes. His breaths come out in sighs, every fiber of his being occupied in deep thoughts. After long moments stretching out between their pointful gazes, Jeongguk’s lips curl into a gentle smile, and then he turns back to face the road and starts driving.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to make of the interaction, and doesn't really question the man. The shared eye contact was heavy and filled with unidentified emotion, and it seemed to transmit between their bodies until it reached Yoongi too, making his heart beat louder in his ears and his breath hold. The intensity stays thick in the air as they drive, quiet stretched between them. Jeongguk keeps sending Yoongi those same looks whenever he gets a chance to take his eyes off the road, laced with genuineness and something akin to devotion.

When they get closer to Yoongi’s house, Jeongguk breaks the silence with an incredulous chuckle, shaking his head as he looks at the road ahead. “I’m being weird, aren’t I?”

Yoongi breathes out a relieved laugh, the breaking of the heaviness freeing him from the intense clench in his chest. “A bit, yeah. You keep looking at me.”

“I’m just. I’ll sound weird, but I just realized that a person like you actually exists. There are people like you out there. Holy fuck.” The brunet grins with his bunny teeth out, head shaking in disbelief. “You aren’t some person I projected my needs into, you’re literally like this naturally. I can’t believe I get to have you in my life.”

Yoongi wouldn't have been able to stop the grin from spreading on his lips even if he wanted to. His eyes stay on ahead as his gummy smile overtakes his features, hand reaching to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair fondly. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“I’m serious, hyung. I appreciate you so much. You always do everything right with me. it’s like I don’t even have to ask and you’ll give me exactly what I need.” Jeongguk sends the older man a look, testing. “Physical touch— the hand on my back, around my shoulders- it, it helps me calm down. And you just- you know these things. You naturally fall into it, like we never stopped. It’s insane to think about. I’m so fucking lucky.”

“It’s the same with me, you know. I naturally relax when you’re by my side. I guess our brains don’t forget that easily.” Yoongi nods, a soft nostalgic smile on his lips.

Jeongguk’s smile mirrors Yoongi’s. “I guess they don’t.”

When Jeongguk’s car comes down to stop, parked next to Yoongi’s childhood home, he sends Yoongi a look- raised brow and faint smirk- “Hyung, how are you going to keep me occupied until everyone’s back?”

They end up getting inside and immediately ridding of their suit blazers, settling on the living couch that used to have their shapes imprinted into it like second nature, but now the traces of them have faded with time and replaced with fond memories that live in their hearts only.

As they get comfortable in front of the TV, a random anime playing, Jeongguk sends Yoongi a tentative look before laying down with his head in the blond’s lap, legs folded in front of him, staring back at the other man, like asking- is this okay?

“Like old times.” Is all Yoongi replies, and whether he’s talking about Jeongguk’s position, or about the way he could never say no to him when his big sparkly eyes look up at him from under his lashes, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that his body instinctually brings his hands to the younger’s nape, scratching lightly where dark hair strands are layered.

Jeongguk hums in approval, curling his body towards the TV to allow the familiar hands more space, his own hands folded in between his thighs, eyes closing shut as he revels in the feeling. “Hyung, you spoil me too much. Careful, I might just get used to it.”

Something about his tone of voice makes Yoongi’s hands momentarily freeze in the younger's hair, before continuing back again. To Yoongi’s ears, it sounded like an actual warning. “That’s more than alright with me, Gguk-ah. Go ahead and get spoiled.”

“Mm, my mom is gonna blame you for it, then you won’t be her favorite anymore.” Jeongguk curls further into himself, into Yoongi’s lap.

“As long as I’ll be yours, I’m fine with it.”

The words hang between them, context lost in the literal meaning, neither of them choosing to comment on it. Instead, Jeongguk chuckles. “You treat me so well, how can you not be my favorite, hyung?”

“Good.” Yoongi smiles to himself. “It’s only what you deserve, anyway.”

At these words Jeongguk turns his head back in Yoongi’s direction, body following with it. He looks at Yoongi with his big doe eyes, holding the galaxy in them, pure and filled with appreciation. It’s an interesting contrast to the way his shirt is excessively unbuttoned to expose his chest, or the way his dark inked sleeve of tattoos seems to peek through the white of his shirt all the way to his shoulder. Jeongguk is filled with complimenting contrasts, Yoongi thinks. “Hyung, quit sweet-talking me, I might blush.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Yoongi smirks, staring down at Jeongguk whose eyes are trained on him, a teasing glint in them. “You deserve to be treated well. Is that sweet-talking to you? It’s just stating facts. If I were sweet-talking, I promise you you’d be blushing.”

There’s a challenge in Jeongguk’s eyes as he says, “what would you say if you were?”, eyes never leaving the other man’s.

Yoongi takes a second to look at Jeongguk, curled into himself and pressed into Yoongi’s lap, knees up, toes curled into each other, hair ruffled and makeup just a tiny bit smudged around his eyes, asking Yoongi with a pseudo innocent gaze and an expectant smile to compliment him, to make him blush. “I figure you get called handsome often enough, so I would probably pick the rarer things to mention, the more private ones.” Yoongi starts, eyes trailing over the younger man as he’s pulled against him. “I would tell you I'm proud of you, of your hard work and your devotion, of you being brave. I would tell you that you grew up so well I’m a bit intimidated sometimes, all tall and broad and manly, but still with that innocent glint in your eyes that not everyone is lucky enough to see. I would go on about how charming you are, how you seem to magnetize people to you, how you can probably get away with just about anything, especially with me. Just one look with those big doe eyes and I cave in. I’m a weak man, Gguk-ah.”

“Only for me,” Jeongguk whispers back, biting at his lip ring, eyes glued to the other man, as promised- red decorating his ears. “But hyung, I want to hear everything. Doesn’t matter if others have said it to me before. From you it means more.”

Yoongi chuckles at the blatant request to keep being praised. Yoongi has truly spoiled him to no return. “You wanna hear it all? Well, should I tell you that you’re pretty, Gguk-ah?” And Jeongguk’s reaction is worth everything- if his ears were tinted red before, the crimson now trails all the way down from his cheeks to his neck, at one single word of affirmation. It does something to Yoongi’s ego, to know he has that effect on him, and it encourages him to keep going. “Will it make you blush if I tell you hyung thinks you’re handsome? That you’re built really well, filling up your suit nicely? That I think you’re really cute all curled up like that with your cheeks all red?”

Their eyes stay locked on each other, irises connected with an invisible pull that makes neither of them able to look away. Yoongi’s gaze is testing as much as it is appreciating. Jeongguk’s is wide and dazzled, mouth agape as he’s lost for words.

When the tension gets too heavy to handle, when it is felt in the pit of his gut- Jeongguk all but squirms where he’s leaning against Yoongi, hands rushing to cover hot cheeks from view, eyes breaking out of the hold. It makes Yoongi laugh fondly. “Don’t laugh at me, hyung.” The younger man whines, seeming almost breathless. “I might have heard those things before- but never from you.”

Yoongi’s brows quirk up. “It’s been insinuated.”

“Fuck insinuation,” Jeongguk complains, removing his hands to expose his flushed cheeks and instead fold them on his chest. “You've always been the blunt one between the two of us. Hearing it is… different.”

“Should I be more vocal, then?” Yoongi asks, petting the dark locks of hair in his lap back into place.

“Hyung, for every context the answer to that is yes-“

Before Jeongguk can finish the sentence and Yoongi gets to overthink it or the unmissable innuendo in the younger’s voice- the front door is opened and a loud rustle of people is heard. Jeongguk lifts his body off Yoongi’s lap and into a sitting position almost alarmingly fast, right before people swarm into the living room.

After greetings are exchanged, Yoongi’s aunties waste no time to come circle Yoongi and Jeongguk on the couch, cooing at the younger and throwing compliments at him from left and right- none that elicit the same reaction from him as Yoongi’s did.

“Such a charming young man! I remember when you were half your height, with that long hair. Yoongi-yah, why didn’t you bring your handsome friend home sooner? It’s been years!” One of Yoongi’s aunties retorts, the other three agreeing with her.

“We’ve had an, er, rough patch, but we’re all good now.” Yoongi supplies as an answer, not feeling up to sharing their entire history or the last few months’ rollercoaster ride that’s called their relationship to people he only meets thrice a year.

“Well, good for you, then.” Another auntie nods. She turns to Jeongguk, her hand on his bicep. “Did Yoongi-yah do something to make you fight? Should I scold him?”

“No, no ,no,” Jeongguk hurries to reply, edging towards Yoongi on the couch until her hand shakes off and the two men’s thighs are pressed together. “I was the one to mess up. Hyung has never done anything wrong in his life.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that, he’s caused some stress to his mother, but if you vouch for him as a friend I’ll just have to accept that.” She speaks, not sparing a glance at Yoongi as she speaks of him like a nuisance needing to be handled.

Yoongi’s jaw sets. Briefly, he wonders whether he should speak up or suck it up for Jeongguk’s sake, who’s always been sensitive to the negative energy of an argument and uncivilized criticism. As long as Jeongguk is comfortable, Yoongi would suck up disrespect for hours on end. Before Yoongi can decide on a plan of action- the younger opts to speak in his name. “Ah, I’ve caused my mother a lot of stress, way more than hyung ever could. He’s very good at what he does, so his mother has nothing to worry about- his grades are way better than mine.”

Yoongi doesn’t appreciate the way Jeongguk is attempting to draw him up on a pedestal while bringing himself down, doesn’t like the sound of it coming from the brunet’s mouth, especially if he thinks doing that helps Yoongi in any way.

“Ah, but what are good grades worth with that useless degree? Such a shame you’re too stubborn to listen to your elders’ advice, Yoongi-yah. You’ll end up running back to your family when you can’t find a job and you finally realize we were all just looking out for you.”

“Care in the form of harassment is abuse all the same, you see.” Words flow out of Yoongi’s mouth, cold and brutal like poison. “So running back to those who never supported me would be the last thing I do. Thanks for discrediting my hard work though, auntie.”

“Yah, what are you saying, abuse? Appreciate your family worrying about you, brat-“ she starts, ears red with anger at being called out in front of others.

“Now, that’s enough. Daehee-ssi.” Ms. Choi’s words cut through Yoongi’s aunt’s voice as she makes her way over from the kitchen. She comes to stand behind the couch, left hand petting her son’s hair, the other one Yoongi’s. Gentle and protective, Yoongi thinks is the aura around her. Motherly at its finest. “Yoongi-yah doesn’t live to please his family, but for himself, let him make his own choices without judging or criticizing- especially on such a special day, let’s focus on the beautiful wedding.”

Jeongguk raises his head to look at his mom, a sweet smile on his lips as she caresses their hair, effectively dispersing any family members from bothering the two, leaving them alone in the living room.

“I’m happy I could save you some misery, boys, but I actually came to find you with a purpose.” She smiles at them, coming to face them and sitting on the small vacant couch space near Jeongguk. “Yoongi-yah, your mother offered me and Jeonggukie to stay overnight. I will take the guest room, and if you two are comfortable with that, you two could share Yoongi’s for the night. Of course, if you aren’t we will find another solution, don’t even worry about it.”

Jeongguk turns to look at Yoongi, big doe eyes questioning wordlessly.

“Sure, why not? Like old times, huh, Gguk-ah? What do you say?” Yoongi asks, nudging the brunet with his elbow, knowing his reply already by the smile spreading on the younger’s lips.

“I’d love to. A sleepover,” Jeongguk chuckles. “That will be nice.”

Jeongguk’s mother smiles fondly, ruffling the two’s hair before pointing her finger at each one of them respectfully- “no funny business.”

“Yah, mom!” Jeongguk complains, ears turning a bit red.

Yoongi chuckles, eyes squinting and gums on display. His voice is tender when he replies- “don’t worry about it, Ms. Choi. He’s in good hands.”

“The best hands,” Is her reply, eyes soft as the two of them share an understanding look. Her eyes seem to communicate to Yoongi the extent of her trust and appreciation, and it spreads comforting warmth through his body. The protective part of him wants her belief in him and his intentions just as much as he wants Jeongguk’s. Her eyes turn to her son’s, and with a mixture of concern and a silent warning, she adds, “it’s not you I’m worried about.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk doesn’t let Yoongi out of his sight for the rest of the evening, let alone out of his grasp. His hands travel around Yoongi’s back as they dance around each other like he’s mapping it out to memory. A firm hand on his hyung’s shoulder slightly squeezing the tense muscles, a gentle hand goading him forward by the small of his back, fingertips that feel like butterflies taking flight on his hyung’s slim waist when they’re lounging around on the couch.

When there aren’t hands on him, Yoongi feels like he’s being watched. The kind of watching that you feel on your skin, that makes you jumpy, makes you wonder how you look from the other perspective, how you’re being perceived. The intense gazing stops when they’re behind the closed door of Yoongi’s childhood bedroom, when Jeongguk’s distance from Yoongi can’t grow over a few square feet, when Jeongguk’s eyes are busy staring at the ceiling as he throws himself on Yoongi’s bed with a huff.

“My social battery is a bit worn out, I can’t lie.” He chuckles breathily, hands resting on his stomach, rising and falling with it.

Yoongi rummages through the old clothes left abandoned in his closet, finding a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “Mm, aren’t you supposed to be the extrovert between the two of us?”

“I wouldn’t call myself an extrovert exactly,” Jeongguk chuckles, pushing himself up on one elbow. “I enjoy social settings a lot, so I’m prepared to get a bit tired afterwards, it’s worth it, in my opinion.”

Yoongi raises a brow. “Remember when I had to trick you to go to my hyung’s birthday party? Oh how the tables have turned.”

“Still a very rude thing to do to shy sixteen year old Jeonggukie, Yoongi-hyung.” Jeongguk scolds, a small pout on his lips. A smile slips out of the facade- “Even if I ended up having fun after all.”

“Hyung always knows what’s good for you, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi’s mouth quirks smugly. He grabs Jeongguk’s backpack off the desk pushed against the wall, placing it next to him on the bed. “I’m gonna go change and come back, you should too, it’s late.”

And Jeongguk complies. When they’re both back in the room, they’re sporting comfortable clothing, lazy smiles that often characterize sleepless late nights, and familiar domesticity. Jeongguk’s signature oversized shirt is close to slipping off his lean shoulder, distracting Yoongi from the sculptured way in which the bare muscles in his legs flex as he’s pulling himself against the pillow, occupying the left side of the bed on top of the slightly chilly duvet.

“Tired?” Yoongi questions, catching Jeongguk pushing half his face against Yoongi’s pillow, dark hairstrands folding messily over the white of the pillowcase.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply verbally, but nods his head slowly, pushing his face further into the softness of the plush pillow in the process. Yoongi’s eyes are torn between appreciating the muscles in the back of the man’s thighs where his shorts expose them, and the softness of his facial features, puffy and tired and hidden in white fabric.

Looking at the way Jeongguk is spread on Yoongi’s bed reminds the blond that the man is quite a blanket hogger, assuming his sleeping habits haven’t changed since adolescence; forever catching a lot of space as he’s trying to fall asleep, but when engulfed deep in slumber, curling up into himself and the sheets.

“What time are you heading back to Seoul tomorrow?” Yoongi asks after he’s turned off the lights, laying down next to the man, pulling the duvet from under them- careful and efficient as Jeongguk lifts his legs up to allow it, being covered with it shortly after.

“Mm, ‘round one. Sleep late.” Jeongguk mumbles, sending a sleepy peek at Yoongi through his lashes.

“Good, rest well, Gguk-ah. Charge up that social battery of yours, hm?” Yoongi grins, poking Jeongguk’s puffy cheek, the one not smushed by the pillow, watching it change colors under his fingertip.

“Jus’ being with you helps,” a closed-eyes smile spreads on his lips, finger blindly reaching to poke back at Yoongi, finding the man’s chest. Yoongi catches the finger in his palm before Jeongguk can poke again. “Don’t need sleep for it.”

“I’m happy to hear, but today has been a very long day. Emotionally tasking. And you need sleep for that.” From his family’s ceaseless criticism to Jeongguk’s father’s appearance, to his nervous system seeming to overheat at the other man’s presence, the day has surely been loaded with incidents, charged with emotions to digest and sleep over, hoping tomorrow things will be clearer.

“You too, hyungie, sleep well.” The words are mumbled through pouty lips which turn up at the corner to form a sheepish smile.

“Good night, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi replies back, settling into bed, covers pulled up to his chin as he’s turned on his side, facing away from the brunet’s squishable face, knees pulled towards himself. Jeongguk’s shoulder is pressed firmly into his back, and with the slightest of movements backwards Yoongi’s thigh would meet Jeongguk’s.

A long time passes in which Yoongi listens to the soft sound of Jeongguk’s breathing almost lulling him to sleep, if not for the younger’s movements shifting positions on the bed every few moments. When Jeongguk makes one sharper movement as he turns his body to face the opposite direction, his back meets Yoongi’s, and the older man sobers up from sleep.

“You awake, Ggukie?” He whispers into the silence of the dark room.

“Can’t sleep,” he replies in a soft sigh.

“Mm,” Yoongi rolls around to face Jeongguk’s back, “still have a hard time sleeping outside of your bed?”

“Mhm,” Jeongguk hums his confirmation. “It’s the first time in years I sleep in another person’s bed, hyung.”

“Huh? But don’t you sleep around a lot?” Yoongi frowns, going unnoticed in the darkness surrounding them.

“It’s- it’s just sleeping around.” Jeongguk explains. “I never stay the night. You get attached that way, you know I get attached easily.”

“Oh.” Is all Yoongi replies, his tired brain succeeds in supplying him with the realization that although Jeongguk doesn’t sleep over, he’s sleeping over now.

There’s a silence after that, which feels like a pause made especially for Yoongi’s brain to make a decision. When he finally does, he mumbles- “com’ere then.”

Jeongguk turns his head around with a confused glance at the other man. Yoongi pats the space on the bed between them, signaling for Jeongguk to come closer. Reluctantly, Jeongguk obliges. He turns his body to face his hyung completely, so his face is leveled where Yoongi’s stretched arm leaves space under his shoulder, careful to not touch his skin. Big doe eyes stare at Yoongi, questioning.

Yoongi’s hand reaches for the crown of Jeongguk’s hair, and slowly but surely starts to draw repetitive shapes on Jeongguk’s scalp, messing his brunet locks.

“Focus on the shapes hyung is drawing, okay? You remember when we used to do this?” Yoongi asks.

There’s a soft gasp from the other man, who seems to physically curl into himself. “Oh…until- until you touched me I didn’t even remember it was a thing. It hit me now all at once with the feeling. It’s so nice, hyung.”

“Mhm, the only way I could get you to sleep back then.” Yoongi hums out, enjoying the way sighs are escaping the younger’s lips, reveling in the feeling of circles being drawn on his scalp, pushing around strands of hair gently, so gentle it’s almost like tickles. After a while of that, Yoongi draws another shape- small triangles with the tips of his nails, and Jeongguk seems to melt at the touch. His face is pushed into the mattress right in front of where Yoongi’s shoulder meets his chest, and his knees are pulled inwards, meeting the warm skin of Yoongi’s thigh.

“You focusing on hyung’s shapes?” Yoongi asks, mainly to confirm Jeongguk is still awake and following his guidance.

“Mhm,” Jeongguk says while nodding his head. “Triangles.”

“Good job, Gguk-ah. Always doing so good, listening to hyung.”

Jeongguk’s mouth lets out a whine at the praise, doesn’t even have the brain function to feel embarrassed about it, as he curls further into himself, the rough skin of his knees pressing firmer against the blond’s thigh. Just like a puppy- Jeongguk pushes his head earnestly into his hyung’s hand, requesting more contact.

Yoongi has never been a strong enough man to refuse any request coming out of that pair of pouty lips and big sparkly eyes. He starts pushing his fingers outwards in Jeongguk’s locks before returning them back into place.

“Flowers, hyung?” Jeongguk mumbles, big eyes looking up at Yoongi through long lashes.

“Flowers.” Yoongi confirms.

There’s a sudden unexplainable urge flowing through Jeongguk’s body to reach out his hand and place it on top of Yoongi’s in his hair, leave it there to feel its warmth and get a glimpse of what it feels like for Yoongi to take care of him in this manner, tender and private and blissful.

Jeongguk retains enough common sense through the sleepy haze to not execute that action. Instead, he allows himself to look for contact in another way- he pushes his nose into Yoongi’s chest, making himself comfortable against his side.

“You always know how to take care of me…” Jeongguk mumbles against the blond’s chest, rising and falling with his breaths and dragging Jeongguk along with it.

“I’ve known you for over a decade, Gguk. Can cite your mannerisms like poetry.” Yoongi chuckles, ruffling the younger’s hair fondly before continuing with his previous ministrations, this time drawing spirals.

“Means so much to me, hyung. Means so much.” Jeongguk mouths against Yoongi’s chest, words a little slurred as he’s being slowly pulled under the hold of sleep.

“Sleep, Gguk. Hyung is here. Want you to focus only on my fingers in your hair now, okay? That and my voice, nothing else.” Yoongi instructs, tender tone and even more tender touch.

Jeongguk lets out a small unfocused hum, and does as Yoongi says. Before long, the inevitable grasp of sleep has him under, and his breathing evens out from where it softly fans on Yoongi’s chest.

Yoongi’s hand stays active on the younger’s scalp until the very moment his own eyes close shut, too.

The next time Yoongi opens his eyes, Jeongguk is laying half on top of his chest. His first reaction is to panic- Jeongguk is impossibly warm and also a bit heavy from the hard muscles pressing against Yoongi’s chest, and Yoongi needs a moment to breathe this moment in before digesting it properly. Shit, calm down, Yoongi. He tells himself. This is your friend, Jeongguk. Get yourself together.

Yoongi starts calming down when he notices Jeongguk has left a small wet patch of drool on his shirt. He can’t help but stifle a laugh. The man’s hair is messy from last night’s hair massage and his face is puffy with sleep. He has a hand thrown over Yoongi’s waist, holding steady against it even in sleep, and his knees remain pulled into his chest from last night.

Yoongi really wishes staring at Jeongguk blissfully sleeping after he’s done his best to ease him into it, wouldn’t have been felt so powerfully in both his heart and his gut. He wishes his fingers didn’t itch to touch, anywhere, really, because that would have made things a whole less confusing.

But he does feel that way, and his fingers do find the soft hairs on the other man’s nape where they trace idly.

Just as when he’s awake, Jeongguk makes a pleased sound at the touch, unconsciously leaning into his hyung’s palm. Yoongi is watching him, his own body tense, shoulders pulled and defensive. He doesn’t know why the position makes him anxious. Is it their proximity? Or how inherently intimate it is, to chastely lay next to the other man who has allowed no one but Yoongi to sleep in his grasp. No one else. Yoongi silently watches the man’s chest rise and fall, follows the lines of his body with his eyes as his hand traces the roots of his hair. The bulky bicep laying on Yoongi’s stomach, heavy enough to cage his skinny frame in, the angled dip at his waist, a perfect spot for an arm to wrap around, the distinctly muscled thighs that Yoongi refuses to look at for too long lest he’d lose his mind… it makes Yoongi nervous. It all makes him nervous, and uptight and anxious. He has to deliberately remind himself- this is Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk. There’s nothing to be nervous about. You know him, you know him from the inside out. Except the only way in which Yoongi doesn’t know the other man, is in the physically intimate form that he’s been recently getting tastes of. So he just forces himself to forget all about it. He focuses on this person being Jeongguk, the boy who grew up with him, and with a soft smile he pulls the other man closer, allowing himself the satisfaction of grabbing him in by the waist. And Jeongguk’s body responds like magic, tightening at Yoongi’s waist and pulling himself upwards with a mumble, until his face is stuffed above Yoongi’s shoulder, cold nose brushing his neck.

And it’s everything. Everything. Yoongi has never felt more at ease in his life, being held so tightly by sleeping Jeongguk he probably wouldn’t be able to leave even if he wanted to, his hand in his hair and breathing synced with one another. It feels like safety and warmth at their highest levels. Enough to make Yoongi fall back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it’s to Jeongguk’s raspy laugh, head still tucked into his neck, peeking at his phone. A small shift from Yoongi and Jeongguk notices he’s awake. He doesn’t make an attempt to move, not even embarrassed in the slightest at the closeness, quite the opposite- Yoongi feels himself held even tighter. Yoongi is once again cruelly reminded that Jeongguk is quite used to physical intimacy. “Hyung, I’m trying to bribe my mom into staying a bit more. I don’t think I can leave this bed ever again. It’s too comfy.”

“Mm, slept well?” Yoongi rasps through his morning voice, feeling soft fingertips tracing circles at his waist.

“Best sleep I’ve had in two whole years.” Jeongguk replies with a soft smile before shoving his head into Yoongi’s neck again, slightly pinching at the other man’s waist. “I don’t think anything can compare. Maybe I won’t be able to sleep alone anymore, and you’ll have to face the consequences of your actions and help me out, hyung.”

“And what, spoil you even more than I already have?” Yoongi chuckles, stretching his arms above his head to loosen up his joints from the night.

Jeongguk doesn’t even blink before allowing his hands access to the newly exposed patch of skin on Yoongi’s waist from where his shirt had ridden up. His palm flattens against Yoongi’s skin, feather-light touches caressing his waist, stopping for a squeeze every couple of moments. “Mm, but hyung, it’s your fault I’m this spoiled. Model good behavior for me and hold yourself accountable.”

Yoongi has to stare at Jeongguk’s expression in order to even have a mild guess of his intentions with those words. The heartbeat felt in Yoongi’s gut is an immediate reaction to the specific tone Jeongguk’s voice had used, and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes tells Yoongi he should be very, very careful with his next words, because Jeongguk isn’t a person who backs down from a challenge.

Yoongi will admit, it is difficult to come up with an answer fast enough to not make the pause awkward while Jeongguk’s palm is traveling along his waist. It proves to be extremely distracting.

“And what exactly does holding myself accountable for spoiling you rotten entail?” Yoongi asks, watching as the other man lifts his head up, leaning on his elbows and staring him dead in the eye, eyebrow quirked up.

“Well, you might have to sleep with me, hyung,” he holds Yoongi’s gaze for far too long before looking away, the double meaning seeping into both their consciousnesses, but getting ignored. “And make me food, play with my hair…”

“So, spoil you a bit more?” Yoongi rushes to reply, rushes to bury the last comment alive underneath new ones.

“Exactly hyung. You learn fast. Now, why isn’t your hand in my hair?” Jeongguk grabs Yoongi’s hands and places it on top of his head, giving Yoongi’s waist a harder squeeze as he sends him a challenging look, daring him to refuse him a thing.

Of course, unsurprisingly, Yoongi cannot come close to refusing this man. Never could.

At a ting from his phone, Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He picks the device into his hand and focuses on the screen. His head turns to look at his hyung only to discover their faces are inches apart. Yoongi can visibly see the sudden intake of breath into Jeongguk’s lungs, and he bets his own quiet gasp is just as visible. A few tense moments pass between them before Jeongguk opens his mouth in a whisper; “My mom said we’ll be leaving in an hour, so I get to stay here with you a bit more.” His eyes scan over Yoongi’s features before adding- “she also said to make sure I’m not intruding.”

Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh. “As if,” he feels Jeongguk’s palm on his skin tighten at the affirmation. “I’m more than happy to have you here, you’re like a really solid cushion that cuddles and drools.”

Jeongguk’s head gets thrown back in laughter. “And snores.”

“Lucky you, I’m a deep sleeper.” Yoongi scrunches his nose with his gums in view.

Jeongguk smiles at the other man, thinking- we compliment each other so well, and shaking his head at the thought. He turns his head back into the initial cuddly position, nosing at his hyung’s neck. They go back to blissful silence, taking pleasure in the quiet moments and shared body warmth, knowing this moment will have to end eventually but not knowing if it will ever happen again.

Jeongguk hopes it will. He wasn’t joking, he would never joke about Yoongi. He’d like to be held like this again— well, he isn’t exactly being held, Yoongi’s chest is underneath him and his palm is on the crown of his head, and it’s Jeongguk’s arm that’s surrounding the older man. Jeongguk doesn’t really think, he works on instinct when it comes to Yoongi. If it feels right- so be it. That’s the motto he’s developed for himself when he was young and confused.

His instincts tell him- make the best you can of this moment.

So he unfolds his knees until he’s laying on his tummy, and snakes his hand that isn’t already on Yoongi’s skin, underneath the man’s back. Yoongi makes a surprised sound at losing a point of contact with the mattress, but doesn’t appear to mind. Once Jeongguk’s hand is settled at the small of Yoongi’s back, arching it just the slightest bit, he has the blond almost fully engulfed in his embrace.

Now that feels right.

Jeongguk has them flushed together, cuddling into his hyung, whose breathing and heartbeat he can hear clearly.

“Hyung,” he whispers, mouth almost to Yoongi’s ear. “Is this okay?”

And well, is it? Yoongi has no idea what he feels at this moment. His body is a bit rigid, he’s sure Jeongguk has noticed, but it’s just- he’s not been close to another person in ages, and now he is and it’s Jeongguk and- a bit new and unfamiliar. And good. And comforting, in a bizarrely intriguing way.

“It is, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi’s hand goes back to playing around with the dark strands on the younger man’s head.

Jeongguk hums in appreciation, and he shuts his eyes and lets his hand explore the new patches of skin available for him where his hand rests at the small of Yoongi’s back. He mindlessly lets his hands roam from the other man’s back to his waist to his stomach, and when he does, he feels Yoongi slightly push away underneath him.

“Gguk…”

“Sorry, sorry. Am I going too far? Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, hyung.”

“I’m not- it’s just- god. I haven’t really done… whatever, whatever this is in a while. It’s nice, just…”

Jeongguk smiles into Yoongi’s neck, nuzzles into the warm skin of his neck where his heartbeat can be felt through bones and tissue. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you, hyung.”

And there’s a tightness in Yoongi’s stomach he doesn’t really want to attempt to define. He cannot be imagining the innuendo, right? He’s not making up that tone of voice, is he? Jeongguk is trying to make him think about whenever else he’ll be gentle with him like this, and Yoongi’s head is falling right into the trap, especially with Jeongguk’s hands continuing their journey across his abdomen and back. Yoongi is actively ignoring the intrusive thought that’s demanding his attention- that this is not friend zone behavior. It hasn’t been for quite a while.

“Such a smooth guy, I bet you do this often.” He manages to let out weakly.

“Mm, haven’t done this much, actually. Maybe for a few minutes after sex with a few people. Nothing that lasts the night like this.”

Yoongi chuckles through his bitterness at the reminder that Jeongguk has the habit of fucking strangers on the weekends. He tries to focus on the fact that he’s the only person Jeongguk has willingly spent the entirety of the night with. Subconsciously, he wonders why it matters to him, anyway?

Yoongi picks a random deflection mechanism to keep himself sane and distract himself from that intimidating question. He grabs Jeongguk’s hands with both of his and pushes them off his skin, mumbling a small, “they’re cold.”

Except the result isn’t exactly what he had planned on, because Jeongguk starts giggling and attacking Yoongi’s skin with feather light tickles. “Are they? Really? Are you sure?”

And why did Jeongguk do that? Yoongi sure wonders, because they are both very much aware that the one between the two of them who’s ticklish is Jeongguk himself.

Yoongi looks Jeongguk in the eye and thinks he sees an invitation in them.

So he struggles his hands away from under Jeongguk’s weight and leads them to his neck and to his waist, to his inner knee and elbow, anywhere Yoongi knows will elicit a reaction. He’s done this way too many times before in their younger days, and Jeongguk’s high-pitched squeak doesn’t disappoint. His knees instinctively jump up in defense, hands attempting to capture Yoongi’s and make him stop- except he’s laughing breathlessly with his back on the bed and his hyung by his side.

“Hyung-“ he wheezes out through laughter, close to wrestling Yoongi’s arms using little enough power to allow Yoongi to continue his ministrations. “No- please, it tickles-“

“You brought this upon yourself, you know.” Yoongi smirks down at him. “You started, knowing you’ll lose.”

“That depends on what you consider winning as.” Jeongguk is panting, a grin plastered on his face and both his hands grasping Yoongi’s wrists, now with more pressure to slow his movement. “I can’t help but feel like a winner, Yoongi-hyung.”

The older man snorts. “How exactly are you winning, laying on your back being tickled to the point you can’t form coherent words?”

“Well,” Jeongguk’s eyes lock on Yoongi’s, the same mischievous smile spreading, “I’ve got your hands on me, hyung. That’s a prize worthy of a winner, isn’t it?”

And Yoongi’s speechless again, he’s lost count on how many times he has lost all control of his communication skills because of this man in the past two days. His face is flushed and his ears are burning and god is Jeongguk shameless. But Yoongi can complain over the man’s directness all he wants, the truth is he doesn’t move his hands an inch away from the younger, and that does the job at showcasing his priorities.

The blush on Yoongi’s cheeks and his silent sputtering must pass along the message to Jeongguk who reads it like he wrote it- he might as well have been the one to.

Jeongguk looks at the other man who’s kneeling on the bed next to him, hands in his firm grasp atop his chest. Watches the pretty pink dancing on his ears all the way down to his neck. Jeongguk lets go of Yoongi’s right hand and guides Yoongi’s left to underneath his head, so Yoongi is forced to lay down again with the younger leaning on him.

“We’ve got twenty six more minutes together, hyung.” Jeongguk muses, pushing his head back to look at the other man.

Yoongi chuckles fondly. “That’s an oddly specific number.”

“Every minute counts.”

When Yoongi looks back at the younger man, he finds his eyes squinting with a smile, pushing the edges of his mouth upwards. Yoongi squeezes Jeongguk’s shoulder and ruffles his already messy hair, stares at the way his lashes tap onto his cheek as he closes his eyes and rests in Yoongi’s hold.

“Try to not miss me too much, Gguk.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

For the next two days, Yoongi doesn’t hear a word from Jeongguk.

They don’t meet up, they don’t text, Jeongguk doesn’t drop by their house. Yoongi doesn't know how he feels about the sudden radio silence- on the one hand, he misses the other man, has been constantly surrounded by him lately that he’s become a natural constant in his life- therefore the uneasiness he’s experiencing feels like withdrawal. Like his brain not receiving the stimulus it has gotten used to. On the other hand, he has so much on his mind. He needs to distance from the cause of his confusion to try and decipher his thoughts and untangle the mystery of his reactions to his childhood best friend. Those days in Daegu had left him a distracted mess, and he’s been avoiding the subject at all costs. Now that he’s upset about the lack of contact, though, he can’t run away from self reflection anymore.

He keeps telling himself that it’s the physical intimacy that turns him red in the face and into a stuttering mess, like he’s seventeen again and fumbling his way through a first relationship.

He keeps telling himself it has nothing to do with Jeongguk. And more about the flirtations and the innuendo. But truthfully- separating the flirting part from the Jeongguk part- it’s just plain denial. Jeongguk has been flirting with him throughout their stay in Daegu. Not a random man. Not a stranger. Jeongguk. And what does that even mean? Yoongi can’t help but make excuses- Jeongguk must be a big flirt. He sleeps around, he knows a lot of people, he’s charming. It must be his personality. It must be his nature, and nothing to do with Yoongi.

But- god. He’s trying to get the feeling of being tangled up in bed with Jeongguk out of his mind. He can’t seem to. The smooth feeling of his hair strands, the warmth of his chest against Yoongi’s, the bare muscles uncovered by his pajama shorts- he can’t seem to think of anything other than the gentle caresses on his cheeks as pink blush is being spread on them.

And when he reaches a certain conclusion, that if it were anyone else- if it were one of his other friends, if it were Jimin or Seokjin or Hoseok, if it were a stranger- he would not have loved it like he did when it was Jeongguk. It would not have felt as right.

It could be that he’s used to physical contact with Jeongguk. That he’s familiar and comforting, and that he likes taking the caretaker role on himself. Is he subconsciously trying to do what he always does in relationships, to fix Jeongguk? Does he secretly enjoy being the person Jeongguk leans on? Is this why his attention is so important to him?

So many unanswered questions, and by the third day of not contacting Jeongguk, Yoongi is left with only two remaining facts. One: that he likes being close to Jeongguk. And two: that Jeongguk likes being close to him, or at least the reactions he gets out of him.

And while he’s strolling the campus on his way to his next class, he thinks to himself, that’s all I need.

He’s so caught up in his head that he doesn’t notice a man standing next to his lecture hall’s door, and only lifts up his gaze from the classroom entrance when a hand grabs his wrist.

He looks up to see Jeongguk, standing there with a tank top and the sleeve tattoo up to his shoulders on full display, a sheepish smile worn on his lips.

“Hyung,” is all he says.

“Hi, Gguk-ah. What are you doing here?” Yoongi replies, taking a step towards him, hand still in the other’s grasp.

Jeongguk looks at him for a while, like he’s picking his words carefully. “I missed you. We haven’t been talking, and I miss you. I thought I- I might have made you uncomfortable, or something, and that’s why you weren’t contacting me. But I realized I also wasn't contacting you so… here I am.”

Yoongi’s smile loops on one side. The tension Yoongi was expecting this exchange to have is nowhere to be found, a natural flow connecting between them like nothing ever happened. “I’m glad you did. I wasn’t uncomfortable or anything. Just a bit awkward. Not sure why. I missed talking to you too, Gguk.”

“Do you wanna hangout today?” Jeongguk suggests through a shy smile.

“Oh, I think I promised Jimin to tag along with him to this party tonight.” Yoongi replies, bummed he can’t spend time with the younger as soon as possible, feeling almost deprived of his contact after three whole days of not hearing his voice.

It seems like Jeongguk feels the same way- “hyung, I turned my friends down when they asked me to come party tonight because I wanted to hang out with you,” he laughs, bunny teeth on display. “Should I just show up with you and Jimin-hyung instead?”

Yoongi laughs, feels his ego slightly inflate as satisfaction seeps into his veins, filling him from the inside out with the urge to flip Jeongguk’s shitty friends off, like this is a competition and he just scored a point. He doesn’t like that he feels this way- but it’s out of protectiveness more than anything else. Yoongi thinks they’re a bad influence, and that Jeongguk looks happier when he’s with him and Jimin.

“Guess we’ll see you tonight?” Yoongi smiles, pulling his hand out of Jeongguk’s hold and waving, starting to advance towards the classroom behind him.

“See you, hyung!” Is called after him, and Yoongi doesn’t have to look to know there’s a grin plastered on the younger’s face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The loud blast of techno music in the house is blared through speakers and heard from miles away. Yoongi is entering the front door with Jimin trailing behind him through the sea of students. He feels the music in his head as Jimin nods and waves at people he vaguely knows.

Yoongi doesn't immediately see Jeongguk. He looks for him with his eyes in the crowd, but there are too many people and it’s dark. It’s Jeongguk who finds him. And in what state does he find Yoongi? Breathless. And also in shock. Because if there’s one single thing Yoongi never thought he’d see again, not on this Jeongguk, the updated version that isn’t a lanky teenager- and it’s eyeliner, perfectly smudged around his eyes, not too much and not too little. Noticeable and bold and oh, so brave. And in that entire room, the only people who know how much courage this must take, are Jeongguk and him. Yoongi’s heart is beating so fast in his chest it might just burst, looking the other man up and down with pride swelling inside of him. The same person who has been bullied for years for this style, is owning it a few years later.

“Oi! It’s Jeonggukie!” Yoongi hears before a body pulls Jeongguk into a hug, stopping him from reaching Yoongi, slapping his back a couple of times before letting him go. It’s Deajun’s face that looks back at Jeongguk with a grin. “I thought you weren’t coming today! Hari-noona will be stoked to hear you’re here!”

“Ah, I ended up coming with my friends. You know, Min Yoongi and Park Jimin.” Jeongguk rubs the back of his head as he brings up their names, feeling the awkwardness of two opposite sides of his life conjoining in a brief moment of uneasiness.

Daejun turns back to Jeongguk after sending the two of them a look. “Cool. I should tell Hari-noona you’re here! She’s been after you for a while.”

“Ah, no,” Jeongguk waves his hands in front of himself. “I’m here with my friends, so.”

Jeongguk sends a nervous look Jimin and Yoongi’s way. He doesn’t want them to think he’s even considering leaving them in favor of either Daejun or a random hookup.

“Huh? Coming with me and Ryeok-ah never stopped you from hooking up before.” Daejun’s eyebrow is raised in suspicion. Like he genuinely cannot fathom the concept of Jeongguk refusing a one night stand.

“Well, you two were also hooking up. And- well, I’m not ditching my friends anymore. I’m here with the purpose of having fun with them, nothing else.” Daejun stares at Jeongguk like he just grew a second head. Still, Jeongguk physically forces himself to stop the conversation at that. He bids goodbye and see you later, waving at Daejun. Jimin and Yoongi stare at the exchange quizzically as they watch it unfold.

Jeongguk leads the other two out of Daejun’s sight and into the kitchen, where the alcohol is stacked on the kitchen counter.

The three of them fill up a few cups with shots of vodka and grab a few bottles of their preferred drinks- mostly soju and beer. They take their drinks with them and through the loud blasts of music, making their way around the crowd. Jimin leads the other two outside, where grass is covering the ground and the music can be heard but allows conversation with a normal tone. They sit down on the grass, liquor in their cups jumping around as they flop on the ground with a laugh.

The night is filled with laughter and liquor and the constant nuisance of people walking up to Jeongguk, and Jimin is constantly eyeing the way Yoongi and Jeongguk’s bodies are always intertwined in one way or another; their hands in each other’s hair, on each other’s waist, shoulders, back.

And the more Jeongguk drinks the more he acts on the urge to feel closer to the other man, the more he wants to touch and lay his hands on him in a chaste search for comfort.

He’s more than a bit tipsy, a few soju bottles are scattered around them on the grass, and so are Yoongi and Jimin, drowsy in their tipsiness, and doesn’t that work just great for Jeongguk? He can allow himself the luxury of snaking his hands around Yoongi’s waist in an uncomfortable sitting down version of a backhug, push himself as close to him as he physically can. The warmth of his body seeps into Jeongguk’s through the chilly late night wind. The top of his nose tickles the back of Yoongi’s neck as he breathes him in.

“Gguk, your nose is cold,” Yoongi mumbles as he shimmies his shoulders.

“It’s either that or my eyeliner smearing all over you, hyung. Pick your poison.” Jeongguk replies against Yoongi’s back.

And oh, the reminder of the way Jeongguk looks now makes Yoongi’s stomach flip. Enough to turn around and steal a look- at pretty long lashes rimmed with black, surrounding big sparkly doe eyes, pinkish cheeks and nose an even darker shade.

“Okay. Don’t ruin your pretty makeup, Gguk.”

“You like it?” Jeongguk asks, although the answer must already be known. He asks as if he wants to hear the words anyway. His rosy cheeks and expectant eyes support the theory.

“Of course I do. You look incredible.”

“Do I, now?” Jeongguk smirks, comment sending his ego skyrocketing, relishing in the way Yoongi’s eyes are trained on him- light redness spread over his cheeks.

As the exchange takes place, Jimin is forced to watch idly as the two shamelessly flirt in front of him. He doesn’t say anything, simply quirks his brow with a fond smile and sips his beer.

Jeongguk’s nose is back against the elder’s neck and his hand is slowly itching closer to Yoongi’s on the grass underneath them. Their fingers brush lightly, a tingling warmth spreading from their fingertips until Jeongguk is watching his hand cover Yoongi’s and his finger intertwine with his hyung’s.

There are three sets of eyes staring intently at the two hands grasping one another. Jimin looks away as he notices the intimacy of it, the other two keeping their gazes locked on their hands.

There’s something about the way they’re looking at each other, Jeongguk pressed against Yoongi and holding his hand, that makes the air still around them. They aren’t the only ones to notice it, either. Jimin isn’t the only one with his eyes on them- various people Jeongguk sort of knows send them curious looks as they walk past.

“Oi, Jeongguk-ah, snatched yourself a pretty boy, huh?” A man who passes by wolf-whistles at them.

“Eyes off, Eunbin-ah.” Jeongguk retorts back protectively, voice hardening slightly. His hand tightens instinctually around Yoongi’s and if he weren’t tipsy and disoriented from the proximity with his childhood best friend, he might have made the friend-of-a-friend in question show proper respect to his hyung.

He knows Yoongi is pretty, he’s more than aware. From the catlike eyes to the plump Cupid’s bow, his hyung has the appearance of a porcelain doll on top of a take-no-shit personality to spice things up, what else could Jeongguk ask for?

“Gguk, you have to get rid of these assholes.”

“I know, Jimin-hyung. I know.” Jeongguk sighs. “I'm not even his friend, he knows Ryeok-ah. I’ll talk to him tomorrow when I’m sober and tell him off.”

Jimin purses his lips and nods. Jeongguk notices the way Jimin’s gaze skids over their linked fingers, and his own eyes trail down to once again admire the way they fit together.

Jeongguk’s eyes go up to Yoongi’s profile, the only view Jeongguk has of his hyung’s face from the angle he’s clinging to him from. “I’m sorry, hyung. No one should talk about you like that.”

Yoongi smiles softly at Jeongguk, their gazes locking. “It's not your fault, Ggukie. Some people didn’t get raised properly. It happens. I’m having a great time with you and Jiminie, so don’t stress over it.”

So Jeongguk tries not to. The perfect distraction proves to be breathing in his hyung, snuggling up to him, sipping his beer, and forgetting anyone outside of their circle exists.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next morning, just-barely awake Yoongi and Jimin sit on their living room couch and drink bittersweet coffee. Jimin’s puffy eyes look at Yoongi’s from the corner of the sofa where he’s sitting cross-legged and holding his mug in both hands. The other man is staring down at his phone intently, contemplation written on his features.

“Something’s up?” Jimin asks between gulps of his drink.

“Jeongguk texted me,” Yoongi replies back, gaze not leaving his screen and confusion not leaving his eyes.

Jimin’s brow raises. “Why do you look so off guard then?”

“I might be overthinking, but it’s just weird. He’s not the type to be so forward.” Yoongi shakes his head as he thinks it over. After a few seconds of lone confusion he passes the phone to Jimin. “Look,” Yoongi shows him his phone screen, a short and simple text message visible for him to read.

‘woke up missing you’

It doesn’t take long for Jimin’s expression to change from curious to surprised. “Oh, that is very straightforward. How interesting. I don’t think he’s ever told me he misses me before.”

“It’s unlike him…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, still staring at the screen. “Usually he’d just come over, you know?”

“You’re right, that’s what he usually does. What are you gonna reply?” Jimin scoots next to Yoongi on the couch.

“I’m not sure. I mean, I miss him too but the way he worded it is just a bit…”

“…Flirtatious?” Jimin suggests.

Yoongi’s gaze flies up to Jimin’s face at lightspeed. Mouth gaping and nervous eyes staring back at the other man. “I mean- I wouldn’t necessarily- I don’t know if that’s…”

But Yoongi’s voice loses conviction with every word uttered, until his voice is just a weak attempt at denial.

Jimin sends him a knowing look. “Yoongi-hyung… you know he’s into you, right? You have to have noticed…”

Yoongi runs his hand through his hair to stall for time if not anything else. “He’s just Jeongguk, Jimin-ah. He’s always been like this, since we were kids.”

“I don't know, hyung.” Jimin shakes his head as he sips his coffee. “I see you two interact. The way he’s like when you’re there with him is worlds different from when it’s just me and him. He was all over you last night, too, snuggling up to you and holding your hand. That’s not how you act with a friend.”

“He was drunk… and he’s a touchy person…” Yoongi continues to try and make weak attempts. “I’m not saying it’s not a possibility, but the option this isn’t the case is still out there, I don’t want to assume anything.”

“Don’t wanna get disappointed?” Jimin quirks his brow at the blond with confidence in his eyes, knowing his friend like the back of his hand.

Yoongi’s face dusts in crimson, caught red handed, and he doesn’t need to give back a reply. The truth is, he’s been blatantly avoiding thinking about this enough to even form an opinion, but Jimin’s words feel like they hit close to home so he might not be far from the truth. Jimin has always been perceptive of Yoongi, where Yoongi has been perceptive of others.

“You think proof would help you? Let’s reply back to him. Text him flirting back, see where it leads you.” Jimin suggests, somewhat of a challenge.

“What am I supposed to write back?” Yoongi squeaks out.

Jimin smiles, grabbing Yoongi’s phone from his hand and starting to type. “I’m not gonna send anything before you approve,” he makes sure to inform the jumpy young man to his right.

After finishing up, he returns the phone to Yoongi for him to read.

‘Why aren’t you knocking on my door already then?’

Yoongi takes a deep breath and presses send. His heart is beating so loud in his chest Jimin must be hearing its vibrations echo through his ribcage. He doesn’t even understand why. This is Jeongguk. You know him. You know him. Before he can panic further, three dots pop up on the screen almost immediately, as Jeongguk types back.

‘Careful hyung’

‘Another word and I’m putting on my shoes and ditching my friends for u’

These messages sound more like Jeongguk, Yoongi thinks, and that contributes greatly to him collecting his thoughts and calming his nerves. This is familiar. This is Jeongguk.

‘don’t ditch anyone, gguk. You can always see me afterwards’

‘:(‘

‘Ok. Come over 7pm for a movie night?’

‘Jiminie hyung too’

“Oh so I’m invited? Interesting.” Jimin ponders out loud. “I have plans with Hoseokkie-hyung at 8pm but I’ll come for an hour.”

Yoongi texts Jeongguk about Jimin’s plans, ignoring any implication of Jimin leaving the two of them alone while Yoongi’s brain is turned to panicked mush.

“Guess it’s time to find out what all of this means.” Yoongi sighs, not a trace of excitement in his voice. Rather, it sounds more like dread.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s easy to forget he was initially nervous when Jeongguk’s eyes are wet and teary from a trashy romcom he and Jimin chose. Even Jimin finds it ridiculous, and he’s supposed to be on Jeongguk’s side in this debate.

“Why are you crying, Gguk-ah, it was a really disappointing movie!”

“Just because they didn’t kiss doesn’t mean it’s a bad movie, Jimin-hyung!” Jeongguk retorts back through sniffles into his shirtsleeves, nose stuffy and just as red as his eyes. Yoongi can’t help but get sent right back to when they were kids. Before he got closed off, when he would cry way too many times a week and run right to him for comfort.

“It’s not only the unsatisfactory romance, no, the plot also had to be overdone and cliché. And I usually like cliché. This ruined cliché for me! I can’t believe I’m gonna be late to dinner with Hoseok-hyung because I wanted to give this movie a chance. An abomination!” Jimin complains as he puts on his jacket and grabs his bag.

“Next time,” Yoongi pipes in, smug and self assured. His smirk spells I-told-you-so. “We watch something I pick.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Jeongguk wipes his eyes, looking from Yoongi back to Jimin. “I got really attached to Christian! He was well written, he deserved his good ending!”

“What can I say? It was boring. I think I saw hyung almost fall asleep. Usually he at least tries to follow the storyline.” Jimin snorts, sending an amused glance at Yoongi's puffy eyes. “Anyway, I have to leave or else Seokkie-hyung will kick my ass. Or he’ll kick my ass anyway when he hears why I'm late.”

“Have fun, Jiminie, say hi from me. Text us when you get there.” Yoongi says through a yawn. He stretches his arms and makes his way to Jeongguk’s kitchen to make another bowl of popcorn.

When he’s back a few minutes later with the popcorn bowl in his hand, the only reminiscence of Jeongguk's full-blown sobfest is the red rim around his puffy eyes. Yoongi gestures the bowl to the younger man with amusement glinting in his eyes; “comfort snack?”

“I can’t believe the psychology major is bullying me for crying and expressing my emotions.” Jeongguk fake-pouts, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth.

“All in good humor, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi sits down next to Jeongguk on the couch, “I secretly love how emotional you get over these, but don't tell anybody.”

Jeongguk exaggerates a gasp. “This is the most controversial secret you could have ever told me. Your reputation is in my hands, hyung!”

“The best hands,” Yoongi grins, a gummy smile on display as he leans into the sofa until he’s pressed into the younger’s side. “Are we gonna watch another movie? Because it’s my turn to pick, and I pick Scarface.”

Jeongguk groans out loud. “Not Scarface! Can’t we compromise this time and watch your picks next time when I have Jimin-hyung with me to complain the entire time?”

Yoongi huffs, stealing the remote from Jeongguk’s hand and scrolling through his movie options. After a heated debate they settle on a heavy-themed coming of age- the only movie available they both might enjoy.

The movie begins, and Jeongguk already starts getting comfortable against Yoongi’s side, scooching forward on the couch so his head can naturally rest on Yoongi’s shoulder. But he isn’t satisfied, no, the pout on his lips as he wiggles around on the sofa says it all. He only settles down after he grabs Yoongi’s arm and wraps it around his shoulder, resting his head on his hyung’s bicep.

Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s the movie boring him, the lights turned off, the perfect body temperature Jeongguk is emitting, or the general sleep deprivation of a university student, but he gets sleepy before the movie even hits the halfway mark. He snuggles into the cushions supporting his weight and rests his head on top of Jeongguk’s. The younger man doesn’t even blink, intently staring at the screen, doe eyes focused and scenically illuminated by the moving scenes on the TV screen.

Just like that, Yoongi falls asleep.

When he wakes up, his first sight is Jeongguk’s slightly hooded eyes gazing back at him.

“Y’up?” He mumbles at the older man. The constant reflection of the home page of the streaming service is decorating his skin, and it’s a little bit of white and a little bit of blue. And a lot of pretty against his complexion.

Yoongi hums back his confirmation. “How long have I been sleepin’?”

“A while,” the younger whispers back. There’s something different about the way Jeongguk is looking back at him that he can’t quite pinpoint. A mixture of sleepy, and… and something else. Something has changed since Yoongi put his head down for a nap, something in the brunet’s demeanor, in the way he regards Yoongi, in the way his eyes lay on the blond man in front of him, like he’s been doing just that for a long while, like it’s all he could ever want to do.

“You were watchin’ m’sleep?” Yoongi asks, barely aware of his words as he struggles to come to his senses and rub off the sleepiness.

Jeongguk hums, eye contact not breaking for a second. Now that Yoongi is looking, he notices the sleepiness in Jeongguk as well. He must have dozed off a couple times himself without noticing, between long Yoongi-watching sessions that in Yoongi’s opinion, should have bored him to death, or at least into the next short-lived nap. In the calm atmosphere and drowsy stillness in the air, one thing is sure; Yoongi isn’t the only one loopy from sleep. “The prettiest sight in the world, you are.”

And something drops in Yoongi’s stomach. Nerves? Dread? Sobriety? Reality? But he’s still so sleepy… he just wants to brush it off, lay his head on Jeongguk and go back to sleep. But he can’t, not when he’s been doing just that for a few months already, evading the meaning behind actions and words. Not when he came here with a purpose. Not without having his healthy-communicator rights revoked.

Instead, Yoongi struggles to keep his eyes open, leaning his head back on the couch. “You keep sayin’ this kinda stuff…”

He looks in Jeongguk’s direction and is faced with his doe eyes slightly hooded but just as sparkly and staring right back, mirroring Yoongi’s posture. His long bangs cover his sleepy gaze and fold under his head on the cushion.

“I mean it all.”

There’s something hypnotic in the way their eyes are linked to each other, or in the sudden awareness Yoongi discovers for it. For that, and for the subtle way in which their thighs and shoulders are pressed together sharing body warmth, the way Yoongi can see in the back of his vision Jeongguk’s fingers twitching on his thigh. The way the air feels like if it stays still a second longer, it’ll crush the both of them to pieces, and steal Yoongi’s ability to speak, to breath. So Yoongi works up his half-asleep delusional brain and moves on instinct- he lifts a hand up to the other man’s head, petting it softly and playing with stray hairs. Because what other instinct does Yoongi's brain hold, other than finding comfort in comforting Jeon Jeongguk?

The moment Yoongi’s hand reaches Jeongguk’s head there’s a content smile spreading on the younger’s sleepy face that Yoongi wants to snap a picture of and frame on his wall. Soft and blissful, leaning into the touch like a puppy.

A few moments pass and Jeongguk’s hand finds Yoongi’s, moving it from the top of his head to his nape, covering Yoongi’s palm with his for a moment before guiding Yoongi’s fingers to scratch through the short hairs on his nape with his fingernails.

Jeongguk’s eyes close shut as he takes his time to feel the sensation, the way it brings his brain a step closer into the blissful content of falling asleep out of pure relaxation and safety. But Jeongguk can’t fall asleep, because as much as he enjoys Yoongi’s caring ministrations, his hands are itching to touch. So, he lifts his palm to cup Yoongi’s jaw, lightly caressing his thumb over the blond’s cheek, eyes focused on the patch of skin he’s mapping into heart. It doesn’t take a while for his fingers to start spreading over Yoongi’s facial features, caressing trails from his brows all the way down to his chin, twirling and swirling around his supple cheeks and defined cheekbones. As he traces his skin, Jeongguk’s finger taps the top of Yoongi’s nose before it traces up and down the slope of it and lower, to the plump Cupid’s bow he can’t seem to take his gaze off of. Yoongi wants to keep looking at the other man, try and read his expression and decipher his intentions, figure out this riddle, but honestly, he’s too sleepy, and Jeongguk’s caresses feel too nice, so his brain shuts off and enjoys the butterfly-kisses sensation on his face, the tendency to overthink momentarily shut down due to an overload of sleepiness and comfortability.

He lets out a soft sigh, enjoying Jeongguk’s meticulous attention to detail and gentleness focused solely on him and his skin.

At a certain point without realizing, they both fall asleep in that position, facing each other. It only dawns on them when Yoongi’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket, waking the both of them as he sleepily fumbles it out of his pocket and answers the call.

His half-shut eyes don’t leave the other sleepy man for a second as he lifts his phone to his ear.

“M’hello?” He mumbles into the phone.

“Hyung? Did I wake you up?” It’s Jimin’s voice on the other end of the line.

“A lil’ bit,” Yoongi admits.

“I was just calling to see if you wanted a ride back home since I’m on my way,”

And oh, Yoongi’s mind finally wakes up at the realization. He’s going to have to leave Jeongguk and the comfort of this oddly intimate scenario and go home. His brain doesn’t appreciate that at all.

Jeongguk’s doesn’t seem to as well, judging by the whine he lets out after hearing Jimin’s voice echo through the phone.

“Hyung’s stayin’, ‘Minnie-hyung.” the younger man mumbles, snuggling closer to Yoongi, pushing his face against Yoongi’s chest.

“Are you, Yoongi-hyung? I thought you had morning classes tomorrow. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Jimin’s worried tone sobers him up a bit.

And, yeah, Jiminie’s right. Yoongi groans as he forces himself to wake up, stretching his arms in an attempt to not bother the brunet nestled into his chest. “Mhm, I’ll go home, would appreciate a ride, Minnie, thanks.”

The moment the words come out of Yoongi’s gruffy throat, Jeongguk’s mouth lets out a protesting sound, and lifts his sleepy head off Yoongi’s chest to send him a betrayed look.

“Want you to stay,” he pouts, clearly barely present and still very much overtaken by sleep, but awake enough to make Yoongi’s heart drop to his stomach.

“Hyung has stuff to do tomorrow, Ggukie.” Yoongi manages a soft smile, cradling his fingers through the younger’s long dark bangs with the hand not holding up his phone. The sweet way in which Jeongguk’s puffy face contours in displeasure makes the blond want to squish his cheeks between his fingers. He looks so innocently disappointed, so small where he curls into him. Yoongi really doesn’t want to leave, if only to stare at this sight a bit longer.

Jeongguk whines and pushes his head back into the other man’s collarbones. “A few more minutes, hyungie.”

Yoongi chuckles as he pats Jeongguk’s head, “someone’s clingy today.”

“‘S hard not to be, when you’re this addicting, Min Yoongi, like a fuckin’ drug. Gonna miss you when I wake up.”

And maybe for Jeongguk, whose face is stuffed in Yoongi’s overheated body, the change in the air isn’t noticeable. But for Yoongi- he sort of can't breathe for a few good moments. Doesn’t have the lung capacity to utter a single word for a few good moments. Doesn’t even get enough oxygen into his brain to make a single coherent thought.

The only thing he knows is that he’s gotten his answer.

So it’s quiet except for Jeongguk’s drawn out breathing. It’s quiet until Jimin is clearing his throat, reminding Yoongi he’s on the line, and lets him know- “I’ll be there in five, hyung.”

In five minutes that feel like seconds, Yoongi’s getting into Jimin’s car. He's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he secures his seatbelt, but he can still see the exasperated expression on Jimin’s face.

“He’s so fucking into you.” Jimin sighs as he pulls out of the driveway. “Please tell me you see it now.”

Yoongi visibly cringes. “I guess I've been a little bit oblivious. In my defense, we used to shower together as kids. It’s kind of a gray area.”

“Hyung,” Jimin pleads. “Yoongi-hyung. You just got your proof. You’re both interested. Please do something about it.”

“The fact that we’re both interested doesn't mean we’re interested in the same thing, Jimin-ah, and even if we are, it’s not that simple. Please remember what his lifestyle is like. I don't fit into that scene, and I don't want to either.”

Jimin’s head snaps to look at him incredulously. “Where is all of this coming from? You think he’s looking for a quick fuck from his childhood best friend who he’s been trying to make amends with for the last four months? Are you for real?”

“What- I never said that, Jimin-ah! I never fucking said that. I meant that he’s into partying and hooking up and getting shitfaced and-”

“And you, he’s also into you, a whole psychology major, and he’s into cliché romantic dramas and hanging out with his mom. You’re looking for excuses. You're scared so you’re coming up with reasons to not pursue this wonderful thing that’s happening to you. He's important to you, hyung. I could see that from the beginning. Don’t ruin this for yourself. Please.”

Yoongi stares outside the window and thinks. His jaw is set and he feels downright attacked, but okay, yeah, Jimin has a point. He feels pretty scared. He feels pretty overwhelmed and like the ground might rip underneath him. Like this is some kind of scheme to ruin a wonderful thing in his life.

“What if it doesn't work out and I lose him again?” Yoongi ends up whispering.

“God, hyung…” Jimin sends him a look before returning his eyes to the road. “It’s so goddamn scary, I know. I know. but it's a risk you're going to have to take. You think he won’t open his eyes one day when someone else hits on you, and confess? Will you let him down, then? It’s all a matter of time before the bomb drops between the two of you. It’s impossible to avoid your feelings for too long, they just come back to bite you. It’s either now, when you're ready, or later when you're not.”

“Stop being the king of relationship advice, Min.” Yoongi whines. Jimin’s words sound very logical and convincing and they are extremely hard to argue with or doubt, as much as Yoongi wants to. Still, he finds an insecurity for his face to turn hesitant about. “But are we sure he’s into me? Are we? Maybe he’s just naturally flirty-”

“Yoongi-hyung!” Jimin cries out. “He literally told you you’re addicting, while you were, what, cuddling on the couch? Just from tonight I can tell there's something going on, and I wasn't even there.”

Yoongi purses his lips, rethinking tonight. “Now that I'm thinking of it… we, um. Before we fell asleep, I guess we were kind of… caressing each other’s faces… and um… he even touched my lips?”

“Min Yoongi! How blind can you be!” Jimin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens in exasperation. “There’s literally no platonic way to put this, this is pure intimacy! Please stop doubting yourself so much. He is into you.”

Yoongi sighs in defeat. He tries to come up with more objections, but… he just can’t. “I guess you’re right. The wedding weekend was also, um. Let’s call it very… eventful. I kept telling myself it was just his flirty personality… seems kind of dumb now. I should pull off the bandaid. I’ll- I’ll tell him I like him.”

“Yes! Oh Yoongi I’m so happy for you. You’re being so brave. You’ll see, it’ll all work out. I’m never wrong about these things.”

“Shit, Min, you’d better not be.” Is all Yoongi can shakily reply.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk’s mind has been hectic lately. He finds that he can’t concentrate for long periods of time, getting distracted quite easily by every ding of his phone, by recalling the latest text in his chat with Yoongi as he’s trying to type down a mind-numbingly boring essay about the history of modern ballet, as he texts the older man and blames him for the lack of productivity, only to realize he’s started the distracting conversation himself.

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:22] what if i just come over to study at ur place

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:25] that’s the biggest lie i have ever heard in my entire existence

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:25] shit for real. what if i just come over. bother u some as a way to blow off steam. and then go back to being a productive member of society.

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:32] me and jimin have some friends over

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:33] oh damn and here i was putting on my shoes already
[18:33] what r u guys doing

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:34] seokjin hyung made us kimchi fried rice and hoseokkie spiked our coffee with rum. now I’m being coerced into a conversation about seokjin’s embarrassing crush on his TA.

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:34] ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
[18:34] hyung u type pretty well for someone who’s drunk
[18:35] that sounds like fun!!!!!!!! your friends sound funny

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:38] i haven’t drank that much yet to be honest
[18:38] maybe half my mug
[18:40] hey, what if you come over?

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:41] you want me to?

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:42] yeah
[18:42] it’s about time u meet our friends
[18:43] you’re not allowed any coffee though. you said you’d go back to work when you get back right? i dont wanna sabotage your studying

To: Hyung!!!!
[18:43] you could never
[18:43] you really mean it? should i come over now?

From: Hyung!!!!
[18:43] yeah ggukie, come over
[18:43] dont leave hyung waiting too long

Jeongguk is nervous. The giddy kind of nervous, and also the slightly trembling hands kind of nervous. If it were only Yoongi and Jimin, he’d go dressed as he is- some sweats and a T-shirt. He decisively changes to his light wash cargos, laces up his boots at the door, takes his keys and wallet and hops into his car.

He wonders what Yoongi and Jimin’s friends are like. Wonders if they’ll like him, and what happens if they don’t.

He tries to shake his thoughts away from that direction as he drives to their apartment. If their friends don’t like him… he’ll just leave. Right? It’s the polite thing to do, he thinks.

He doesn’t expect to see Jung Hoseok from the third year dance team opening the door for him when he arrives.

He doesn’t even have time to catch his own surprised face and get it under control, no, he just stands there beetle red and gaping.

“Oh, hello!” The other man laughs nervously at him, cheeks colored red and a drunken giggle to his tone. “Yoongi-hyung, Jimin-ah, Jungkook-ssi is here! Come in, come in,”

Jungkook realizes he still hasn’t spoken, takes comfort in Hoseok’s unfocused expression, tipsy enough to not pay the unintentional disrespect much mind. When his eyes meet his two friends’, the dam breaks. He whisper-yells. “Y-you- you didn’t tell me you were friends with- with Jung Hoseok!”

He slowly realizes there are other people around, scrambles around and bows, his face still red, Jimin and Yoongi laughing at him as they watch.

“You know Seokkie? Did he TA you or something?” Yoongi lifts a brow as he sips an unconventionally sized coffee mug.

“No- not me, but some of my friends and-“ he awkwardly turns around to face Hoseok, bows ninety degrees. “I look up to you a lot, sunbaenim, I’ll be cheering for you at the year-end shows!”

“Ah, Jin-hyung, this guy looks like a bunny. How do you expect me to scare him off when he’s cute like this, huh?” Hoseok frowns at the person sitting opposite of him on the couch.

“Yah, Hoseok-ah!” That same man huffs out in annoyance. He immediately turns to Yoongi, a defensive expression on. “I swear I didn’t tell him to scare him off, Yoongichi. We just thought we’d give him a warning, you know. It’s what best friends do.”

“Warning, my ass.” Yoongi scowls. He turns to Jungkook who’s standing deer eyed and watching the conversation unfold. Yoongi and Jimin’s friends don’t like him. Great, he just walked in and it’s already a fucking mess. “Gguk-ah, come sit.”

He points to the floor, a spot next to Jimin and leaning next to Yoongi’s own legs. Jungkook shyly folds himself down on the floor next to Jimin who gives him a sheepish look of sympathy.

“Ggukie, I guess you already know Hoseokie-hyung, but this guy is Seokjin-hyung. He’s overprotective and doesn’t really trust you but that’ll pass. He’s an acting major at SNU with us, third year, and is currently oversharing about his unattainable crush on his elective Korean Art History TA. Now, go on Seokjin-hyung, you left off when you emailed him about that assignment-“

“Ah, you see I asked for another day or two to submit it, and Kim Namjoon is all formal, ‘unfortunately we can’t allow late submissions in this course because solution sheets are uploaded right when assignments are due blah blah blah’ and so naturally I typed an email saying, ‘and what if I give you my number?’ As a joke to screenshot it to our group chat, but then I accidentally sent it.”

A collateral horrified gasp.

“You hit on Kim namjoon? I know him! He’s twenty seven!” Jungkook squeaks out, hand covering his mouth in shock.

“What, you’ve never got it on with someone older?” Seokjin snorts. “Your reputation would heavily imply otherwise.”

“Jin-hyung, what the fuck.“ Yoongi scowls. Jungkook’s teeth toy with his lip ring as he frowns, neck reddening with something resembling shame. It’s okay- it’s okay, his shoulders pull in unconsciously. He can understand Seokjin-ssi’s sentiment, he tries to argue to himself. He does sleep around, he does, he does. He hasn’t in a while but- he does. So it shouldn’t- it shouldn’t make him feel like it does. Small and helpless under the scrutinizing gaze of his best friend’s hyung.

“That’s an asshole thing to say, hyung,” Hoseok mumbles through a sip of his drink, eyes unfocused.

“It’s- it’s okay,” Jungkook interjects softly, fingers twisting into one another, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Really.”

“No it’s not okay,” Jimin huffs, turning his angry expression at his hyung to an apologetic one to Jeongguk. “He isn’t usually like this, Gguk, I swear. Hyung, apologize. That’s really unlike you.”

“I wasn’t trying to shame him or anything,” Seokjin sighs, scratching the back of his neck, “sorry, Jeongguk-ssi. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I’m sorry if I came out judgy, too. I just- twenty seven is seven years older than me, that’s- a lot.” Jeongguk tucks hair behind his ear as he keeps playing with his lip ring between his fingers. “But I will admit, I know who he is, we work out in the same gym. He is hot, he’s really built, and generally super nice.” He mumbles.

“And you’ve never seen him teach. I swear I don’t usually have an authority kink, tell them Yoongichi. This is the first time I crush on a teacher.”

“But wait- what did he reply?” Jimin purses his lips.

Jungkook relaxes where he sits as the subject changes and the tense atmosphere dissipates. He listens to the others talk, slowly feeling a hand on his shoulder, kneading the muscles gently. Jeongguk looks up at Yoongi behind him, sees him looking at Seokjin talk, silently sipping on his almost empty spiked coffee. Jungkook leans back into him, resting his head against his leg.

“-me to the side and starts scolding me that it’s not an appropriate thing to suggest and that I should be aware of the university’s policy regarding relationships with faculty members blah blah blah, all while being red from his ears to his neck, like he’s in pain just having to word that out. I felt sorry for him so I just nodded along.”

Yoongi finishes his drink and leans forward to place his mug on the table, and so for a moment Jeongguk goes red, having to face the man’s broad chest as he leans down. When he leans back Jeongguk’s eyes are still open wide and his cheeks tinged red- the knowing eye contact Jimin has with him makes him turn even redder.

Yoongi snaps him out of it by tapping his shoulder. Seokjin is still going with his story, but Yoongi leans into Jeongguk, hand tangling in his hair, and asks, “what course is the homework you’re avoiding?”

Jungkook looks up at him with big eyes. “History of contemporary dance.”

“Is it an essay?” Yoongi asks, twirling a patch of hairs of Jeongguk’s between his fingers.

The younger nods, mouth slightly gaping. The way Yoongi looks at him is weird. Different. Charged calmness that is so distinctly him that it's electrifying where it’s perceived under Jeongguk’s doe eyed gaze.

“How much do you have left?” Yoongi asks again, in that same tone. It has an undertone that Jeongguk doesn't know how to place- like Yoongi’s question is meant to quench his curiosity, but also like he just wants to hear Jeongguk talk, regardless of the words he chooses for his reply. Jungkook stares at his face, the tiniest tinge of red on his cheeks, the almost unnoticeable lack of focus in his eyes as he looks at Jungkook’s hair between his fingers. He realizes his hyung is already tipsy.

“I need to add conclusions and reformat it, add sources… a few more hours' work.” He replies slowly, distracted by the way Yoongi’s eyes slowly flutter as he blinks at him.

Yoongi nods, humming. “You can finish it today, Gguk.”

“I can also take a twelve hour nap, hyung. Can is a big word.” Jungkook chuckles. He looks away for a moment, to frown at himself. “I keep getting distracted lately.”

“Ah, and here I invited you over. Hyung is sorry, should have pushed you to keep working.” Yoongi grumbles, petting Jungkook’s head. Jungkook laughs at the action, feels like a child under Yoongi's gentle care.

“No it’s okay, I needed a break. I’ll study well when I go back, hyung, I promise.” he lifts up his gaze to look into the blond’s eyes through his bangs, careful to allow him to keep fondly touching his hair.

“You promise?” Yoongi frowns at Jeongguk’s head as he runs fingers through silky chestnut locks. “If not, hyung will feel bad.”

“I promise, Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook giggles, resting his head back against Yoongi’s thigh with a bunny smile.

“Good.” Yoongi nods, and then he leans back against the couch, promptly ending the conversation but never ceasing the movements against the brunet’s scalp. Jeongguk leans his head back against the couch, not quite touching Yoongi's thighs, and sighs, content. He listens to Seokjin’s story ending, chuckles with secondhand embarrassment, still a bit cautious to not get misunderstood and singled out by him again. Seokjin starts talking about his ex coming up to him thinking Namjoon is his new boyfriend.

“Oh, Jeongguk-ah, maybe you know hyung’s ex? He’s in dance too, they met through Seok-ah. His name is Cha Baeksoo- tall, tan, kind of looks like a puppy." Jimin turns to Jeongguk with questioning eyes.

Jeongguk looks back at him with horror in his eyes at the immediate recognition of that name, a flash behind his eyes of him hovering over him in a vacant room at one of the dance crew’s parties. It’s fair to say Jeongguk turns ghostly pale. Shit, Seokjin already dislikes him, oh what the hell- how could he be this unlucky? Should he lie? Should he make up an excuse? But no, Yoongi-hyung is right here and that man will be able to tell in a millisecond that he’s being untruthful. Fuck, Jeongguk’s mind empties but for anxiety- Seokjin is going to kick him out so quick he won’t even be allowed to bid his goodbye and then Yoongi-hyung and Jimin-hyung won’t ever invite them over to hang out with their friends and then--

Everyone is looking at his reaction silently, until Hoseok says, “no way,”

And they all start roaring out their disbelief, except for Yoongi, who watches it all unfold silently with his signature pseudo-lazy observation.

“Did you hook up with him? No fucking way!” Jimin shouts. Jeongguk notices all three of them are tipsy if not drunk, and becomes even more anxious at being the only one sober.

“Yah, we broke up half a year ago, the douchebag can sleep around if he wants to,” Seokjin scoffs, giving Jimin’s arm a scolding pat. “If anything I extend my condolences Jeongguk-ah, he wasn't that good in bed.”

“It was one time,” Jeongguk squeaks out hurriedly, heart hammering. “I only remember it because he kept pestering me to hook up again and I kept telling him I don't do seconds. He was just a random person at a party, I swear I didnt even know him before, he was just a sunbae and-”

He feels a hand squeeze at his shoulder and promptly stops talking. From behind him Yoongi rasps out, “no one’s upset with you, Gguk-ah.”

Jeongguk lets out a few breaths before he realizes he’s almost panting. He looks up at his hyung, then at Seokjin, who nods with a chuckle. “I don't really care what he’s doing these days. But what is it you said, you don't do seconds?”

Jeongguk blushes at the amusement in Seokjin's voice, still trying to calm himself from his previous anxiety. Yoongi's hands on his shoulders do most of the work. He doesn't do well with not fitting in, he knows. He just wants them to like him, because he loves Yoongi and Jimin so much and- he doesn't want to mess up, not again. “I don't sleep with the same person twice,” Jeongguk explains with a voice bordering on a whisper, grimacing at the way that paints him out to look like.

“Ah, I see, so they don't get attached?” Seokjin asks.

“So I don't get attached,” he admits with bright red tinging his neck and ears.

“Oh,” Seokjin nods. “How did that work out for you?”

“I've never been in a relationship, so, you could say it worked.” he admits awkwardly with a solemn aftertaste on his tongue, encouraged into honesty by the fact they are all a little drunk.

“I hope you come to find someone to get mutually, disgustingly, attached to,” Seokjin looks him dead in the eye, a bit intimidatingly so, lifting his coffee mug in a small cheer and downing it all in one sip. Yoongi's hands freeze on his shoulders.

“What he means,” Hoseok interjects, expression too far away to be anything but drunk, “Is that he thinks you're not that bad, and that he hopes you’ve got enough in your brain to do some life-changing math.”

Jeongguk looks around in confusion, but he seems to be the only one out of the loop. He looks up at Yoongi- staring daggers into Hoseok's unfocused demeanor and squeezing his hands a bit too roughly against Jeongguk's shoulders.

Jeongguk, in his confusion, turns back to Hoseok.

“Sorry, I was never too good at math.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･✧*:

It’s the winding down of a chilly October evening, the sun barely peeping out of the horizon, the moon already visible on the other side of the sky. The streets are quiet but the houses are alive, families gathered around dinner tables, from cousins to uncles to grandparents- all well-traveled for the occasion. Today, despite the consequences, Yoongi chose to not follow in their footsteps.

Instead, he’s making his way down an all-too-familiar driveway, and knocking three quiet knocks on an all-too-familiar door. Yoongi is faced with a brightly smiling Ms. Choi, a kitchen towel in between her hands as she ushers Yoongi to come inside.

“We’re so happy to have you, Yoongi-yah! I was so excited when Jeonggukie told me you might be joining us for Chuseok! Oh, come on in, the rascal’s in the kitchen.” And so Yoongi beams his signature gummy smile, holding a bottle of wine he bought for the occasion, and follows Ms. Choi into the kitchen.

“Mom! Is it hyung?” Jeongguk calls out, but there’s no need to answer, because Yoongi’s already walking into the room.

“Hi, Gguk-ah, happy Chuseok.” He smiles softly, ruffling the hair on the back of Jeongguk’s head, the only available space as Jeongguk’s busy eyeing the incredibly-smelling Pajeon on the stovetop.

The way Jeongguk’s eyes widen when he sees him, a hundred starry nights illuminated in them, makes Yoongi’s heart clench in his chest.

Just like him, Jeongguk dressed up in a button down- his black one folded at the sleeves, contrasting Yoongi’s white one. His hair is swept nicely to expose his forehead and uncover his eyes- freshly decorated in eyeshadow- coffee brown.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk glows, warm eyes glued to the blond man in front of him. “Happy Chuseok. Thank you for accepting my invitation. I know it’s different from how your family celebrates, but- I'm happy you’re here.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Yoongi sends him a loopy smile, starting to fold his sleeves to his elbow. He then grabs the pan in front of Jeongguk and scoots the other man away from the stovetop. “I don't enjoy holidays with my family, but I have a feeling I'll enjoy holidays with you. Now, hyung’s gonna take over sous-cheffing Ms. Choi while you go prep the table.”

“Yes, hyungie.” Jeongguk beams, scurrying around the kitchen drawers to get three sets of tableware.

“He's been waiting to get out of helping me cook,” Ms.Choi snorts. “He’s never had an eye for it. It’s probably our fault, though, for always doing it for him.”

It doesn't take a whole while to finish cooking. Before long, Ms. Choi is on the porch on the phone with some distant relatives, having finished making all the main dishes. The kitchen is smelling mouth-wateringly good, and Yoongi’s making the last of the side dishes.

He’s chopping up scallions when he feels another body pressed into his. Jeongguk’s arms wrap around his waist and hold against it, his chest pressed firmly into Yoongi’s back and his face placed on top of Yoongi’s left shoulder. on instinct, and as a result of the unexpected gesture, Yoongi stops his use of the knife and puts it down flat on the counter. The action caught him off guard, and as much as he and Jeongguk are touchy, following the latest realizations regarding the feelings involved in their life-long friendship, Yoongi has been analyzing everything, monitoring it all. Every touch, every brush of skin, every suggestive comment, every flirty smirk. But also- also every time his stomach flips, every time the other man renders him speechless, every time he catches himself craving the closeness. This by far tops all their previous not-quite-friendly interactions. Yoongi’s face gets red and his hands clammy and, god, does it feel nice to be held like that by him. God, how much Yoongi wants this, how long he has wanted this without realizing. But this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t want this in the context of a friendship, no. It’s not right.

The truth is, Jimin was, as always, correct. This isn't how friends act.

It’s different. And while Yoongi had finalized that conclusion after an emotionally puzzling all-nighter with his friends after Jeongguk had left their company, Jeongguk has stayed the same Jeongguk who keeps doing these things- these wonderful, wholesome, romantic things that mess with Yoongi’s head, holding his hand, caressing his face, back hugging him and nuzzling into his neck- all while calling him his best friend. Fuck that, Yoongi thinks. That's self-deceptive. It’s oblivious. You don’t run your fingers over your friends’ lips when you think they’re sleeping, you don't tell them they’re addicting or that you wake up in the morning missing them after being apart for barely a full night. You don't analyze the type of prettiness of their facial features in a rant so in-depth it could be considered a verbal thesis. Yoongi wouldn't have reached the conclusions he has if it weren't for Jeongguk’s emotions constantly being written on his face, in his actions, in his words. And, well, Jimin’s perceptiveness, of course.

So Yoongi takes a deep, steadying breath. And he takes the fucking bandaid off, for the both of them.

“Don’t you think it's weird?” Yoongi asks, a frown on his face as he feels Jeongguk’s breaths fan the line of his throat.

“What’s weird?” the younger man hums. Voice content and serene- frustratingly contrasting the mess of emotions in Yoongi’s head right now.

Yoongi turns around to face the other man, breaking the back-hug in the process. Jeongguk’s hands find the counter Yoongi is leaning on, and are holding onto it on each side of his waist. Their bodies are inches apart, their faces just as close if not closer. Even before Yoongi speaks, Jeongguk’s mouth is already gaping.

“Do you hold your other friends like this, too?” Yoongi asks, voice coming out in a low whisper.

Jeongguk’s face falls into a frown, sensing the seriousness of the conversation unfolding, his gaze not leaving Yoongi’s eyes for a second. “No,” escapes his lips after a small pause, his palms whiten with pressure against the countertop. “You’re not like my other friends, Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from Jeongguk’s. Of course I'm not like your other friends, Yoongi thinks. But is it because we showered together as kids, or because you’re attracted to me?

When Yoongi doesn't give back a reply, Jeongguk retracts his hands from Yoongi’s sides so he’s not leaning over him anymore. So they’re just standing one in front of the other. “Should I-” he starts, doe eyes worried and confused and as easy to read as ever. “Should I not do that again?”

Should I not touch you again? Yoongi reads between his words.

“You can do that again,” Yoongi supplies back, eyes returning to gaze into the other’s. “Once you tell me what it means.”

Jeongguk looks conflicted. His eyebrows are pulled downwards and his eyes are running over Yoongi’s face. Looking, searching for answers. “I like being close to you, hyung,” he sighs, eyes returning to focus on the pair opposite of him. After a beat of tense silence, he adds in a whisper- “you feel like home.”

And Yoongi’s heart melts at the confession. Not quite the one he was aiming for but equally heart wrenching. Yoongi takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the younger man’s urgency, the way his eyes scream that he has to get his message across, he must let Yoongi know how much he means to him. But Yoongi has to bring his thoughts back on track. “You know this isn't what friends act like, right?”

And then there's silence. There's silence and Jeongguk’s expression is wiped clean of urgency and is transformed into a look of pure realization. Like it finally clicked, like he now knows what Yoongi’s been going at for the last couple of minutes. Like he, too, knows.

Jeongguk’s gaze burns into Yoongi’s. “Then maybe you're more than a friend.”

“How much more?” Yoongi doesn't waste a second. How much more? How much more?

Jeongguk’s gaze looks conflicted again, deep in thought, like he’s never thought of this before, like he’s been living it but not actively thinking about it and now, now it’s all falling into place and- and he knows, he knows what to say, he knows- he leans towards Yoongi, eyes on fire, boring into his, hands back against the countertop, gripping, holding him in place, and he starts- “hyung, I-”

The front door shuts close. Jeongguk jumps, taking a step away from Yoongi as the sound of slippers hitting the floor gets closer and closer.

“Jeonggukie, you forgot to put glasses on the table-” Ms. Choi calls as she walks inside the kitchen, and then she slows down, sensing the energy is a bit off. “Uhm- should I come back in a few minutes, or…?”

Jeongguk looks like he might just say yes, so Yoongi beats him to speaking. The momentum is broken anyway, they might as well just sit down to eat and not make things awkward for Ms. Choi. “Actually, I think everything’s ready, so we can bring the side dishes to the table, and Jeongguk-ah could bring those glasses?”

The look Jeongguk sends him is confused and desperate. Yoongi sends him a tired smile, easing the atmosphere. If they’re going to have a heated discussion, it won’t be in Jeongguk’s mom’s presence, and won’t ruin the atmosphere of a perfectly wonderful Chuseok dinner that for once doesn't involve making Yoongi feel like shit. He’s grateful to be here, even if things are unclear between him and Jeongguk, these two people are an incredible part of his upbringing, and he wants to spend a normal Chuseok dinner with them. It doesn't matter if his heart beats out of his chest and if his mind obsessively tries to finish Jeongguk’s last sentence based on loose theories about his body language- he’s going to guarantee this dinner is pleasant for the three of them.

He tries to not regret bringing it up in the heat of the moment.

Lucky them, Ms. Choi actively ignores the tense atmosphere and contributes to naturally dismissing it- Yoongi assumes it's a skill that comes with raising teenagers. Once the fire in Jeongguk’s eyes dies down and he’s calmed down a bit, he too puts aside a few moments ago’s happenings and enjoys dinner.

“Mom, this songpyeon, I’m tearing up,” Jeongguk says, rice-cake still in his mouth. “So good.”

“Glad you like it, Ggukie. What do you think, Yoongi-yah?” Yoongi’s plate gets three rice-cakes placed on it by Ms. Choi, who gestures for him to eat up. He leaves his half-eaten pajeon and tastes the half-moon shaped treat.

“Oh, wow,” he smiles as he chews, “these are better than my mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

Ms. Choi claps excitedly. “I’m so happy to hear that! I haven't made it since we moved out here, stoked to see I still have it mastered.”

It’s like Yoongi’s brain redigests the information he already knows as it takes that comment in. Jeongguk and Ms. Choi haven't been able to sit like this and have a Chuseok dinner, even if just the both of them, for two years. This is the first time in a long while for both of them. A mundane celebration of health and family and domesticity- of having their lives turned back into order. Yoongi sends Ms. Choi and Jeongguk a warm smile.

“Thank you for all of this. I couldn't be happier to be here with you today.”

There’s a warm feeling in Yoongi’s chest for the rest of dinner, warm enough to fade any other worries away. He's having incredible food, surrounded by people he loves; no fighting, no shaming, no nitpicking his personal life. He's feeling overall unmeasurably grateful.

It’s later when they finish cleaning up after themselves, leaving the kitchen spotless for the wonderful cook, that Jeongguk stops and takes a long look at Yoongi. It takes no time for Yoongi to feel that gaze on him, having a lifetime of expertise on the way these eyes fall on him, warm him from the inside out until he’s red in the face. He stares. He stares at him with that expression of his, the one reserved for very thoughtful moments. He stares at Yoongi’s hands, clasped together in a nervous fidget. His eyes move to Yoongi’s arms, to his chest, to his shoulders. they climb up to his neck. Yoongi is holding his breath, barely allowing oxygen into his brain and is that why he feels himself malfunctioning under that gaze? Or is it the sheer intensity of it that leaves him dizzy? Yoongi thinks the world stops when Jeongguk’s eyes stay significantly longer focused on his lips. He's thinking, Yoongi’s mind supplies. Thinking. Thinking about what? What is he thinking about while staring so long at my lips? What could he be thinking about except-

And then his gaze moves to Yoongi’s eyes, and the elder’s heart drops to his stomach. Jeongguk meets Yoongi’s eyes, and then he grabs his hand in his and walks out of the kitchen.

“Mom, me and Yoongi-hyung will be having a chat outside.”

It’s said with the finality of a man on a mission, with an undertone of- private chat. Do not disturb.

Yoongi feels shivers run down his spine. Expectancy is running up his veins.

Jeongguk drags him out onto the porch, closing the door behind them and leading them as furthest away from the door as the porch allows. He stops near the railing, leaning the side of his hip on it as he stares at the other man. Thinking. Looking for his words. Yoongi follows him tentatively, standing next to him, copying his posture. Close, but not close enough.

“Hyung, about earlier…” Jeongguk looks at Yoongi with that unfocused fire he had in his eyes before. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat just looking at them, just hearing these words out of that mouth. He stands quietly for a while, a frown on his face. Looking fired-up, but at the same time, frustrated. “About earlier, I- I was going to say something, and I feel like you might have an idea already what it was going to be, but- but I’m not good with words, hyung, and I want to say the right thing but i’m not sure how-”

Yoongi frowns, “what do you mean the right thing, Jeongguk-ah? There's no right and wrong. You just need to be honest.”

Jeongguk’s eyes grow wide. “No, no, I know that, I- I know what I want to say, hyung. I’ve never been so sure in my life,” he half-chuckles. “It’s the way I’ll say it that I'm worried about. You’re so good with words, and, and I’m not and I don't wanna mess this up.”

“Jeongguk-ah, as long as you’re honest, it doesn't matter what you’re going to say. Just say what feels right. The fact that words aren’t easy for you will make me even more proud of you for saying what you have to say, no matter what it is.”

There’s a pout pulling at Jeongguk’s mouth. He huffs. “Stop being so fucking great all the time, hyung. You’re not helping my situation here.”

Yoongi chuckles nervously, but doesn't add anything else. He watches Jeongguk’s expression gradually change as he strings up the words in his head, as he works up his courage. Yoongi’s heartbeat is ringing in his ribcage, making his nerves loud and clear. Whatever it is Jeongguk is going to say, it’s going to mean everything.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk blurts out eventually. His gaze is just as fierce as it is sparkly, and right now the night sky really is reflected in his eyes, stars included. “Yoongi-hyung,” he adds breathlessly. There's a streak of silence, Yoongi’s breath is stuck in his throat. “I've realized five years too late that I'm in love with you.”

Silence. Silence, because the outside noise has to make space for the uproar inside Yoongi’s head. A thousand different emotions wash over Yoongi like he’s standing in the heart of a violent tsunami without a shelter from the waves. He’s figured out Jeongguk saw him romantically, knew he loved him as a friend, even family, but hearing these mixed together in a love confession, out of Jeon Jeongguk’s very own mouth- an overwhelming experience. Hearing these words felt more incredible, more sensational than he could have ever imagined, could have ever prepared himself for. Jeon Jeongguk is in love with him. Jeon Jeongguk has been in love with him for five whole years.

So Yoongi opens his mouth, and he’s ready to say it right back, to let Jeongguk know- it’s at the tip of his tongue. But then a thought comes up. Saying that lone, powerful sentence was the hardest pathway Jeongguk could have chosen for this confession. He’d have probably much preferred to simply show Yoongi how he feels. Words have always been Yoongi’s forte, and actions have always been Jeongguk’s. So Yoongi looks Jeongguk in the eyes and doesn’t say a single word. Instead, before he can convince himself out of it, he pushes himself forward and shows Jeongguk that he reciprocates, placing his lips on his.

The surprise is evident on Jeongguk’s face, to say the least. Yoongi’s hand is at his nape as he brings their faces the closest they could be, and Jeongguk’s eyes are blown wide for a good couple seconds. When he comes back to himself though, when he realizes the meaning of what's happening now, that’s when more pressure is applied against Yoongi, when a hand slips to hold at the milky skin of his cheek. Jeongguk understands. He sees what Yoongi is doing, and it’s making his heart flip 360 degrees in its place. He feels like his senses are overloaded with a sensation he’d never thought he’d get to feel. Yoongi. Yoongi is kissing him. Yoongi is slipping his tongue past his lips. He's tasting Yoongi in his mouth right now. He doesn't think anything can amount to this.

The intensity of his emotions, as it tends to, slips into his actions. It’s second nature to push himself back against the railing and pull Yoongi by the waist to lean against him as their lips meet. But Jeongguk doesn't stop there- he does every single thing he can to deepen the kiss while staying in Yoongi’s lead, letting him have his way. One of his hands is squeezing at Yoongi’s waist, the other angling Yoongi’s face sideways just the right amount, until Yoongi can naturally slip his tongue into Jeongguk’s mouth. And Yoongi is pushing against him the perfect amount- god, he’s fucking perfect, hands on his chest, on his nape, in his hair- god, in his hair- and Jeongguk’s gonna go fucking crazy.

“God, I sure as hell didn't expect to get kissed when I walked out of that door,” Jeongguk breathes out with a chuckle, when their lips separate in favor of air. He keeps Yoongi’s face close with a hand on his jaw. “Kinda expected an ‘I’m sorry but’.”

“When could I ever say no to you, Jeon Jeongguk?” Yoongi smiles softly, gaze not leaving the younger man’s.

“Shit,” Jeongguk beams, teeth out and an inch away from Yoongi’s lips. “You’ve got a point.”

And then they’re kissing again, smiles etched into their lips. And if Ms. Choi has any idea what’s taking place on her front porch at Chuseok eve, well, she doesn't say a thing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“Hyung, hyung where are we going?” Jeongguk giggles, excitement evident on every part of him and clear in the way he’s curled into the passenger seat of his own car, Yoongi behind the wheel. His knees are jerking up and down, fingers tapping patterns of his recent favorite song as he tries to contain himself.

Yoongi tsks a few times, eyes not leaving the road and smirk not disappearing for a second. “You’ll be able to guess soon enough, Gguk-ah.”

“Ah, hyung, Yoongi-hyung, you're so mean. I’ve been kidnapped." Jeongguk goes on, toying with his lip ring between his fingers as he grins, bunny teeth out and eyes staring fondly at his childhood best friend slash current boyfriend.

“Mhm, then you've got a hell of a Stockholm syndrome, Ggukie.” Yoongi’s smirks widens as they make a left turn.

Jeongguk looks out of the window and thinks he's starting to recognize the area. It’s been a while since he's been here, and the sun had already set a few hours ago so it’s pitch black out except for the yellowish halo of the street lamps, but, it's Seoul. It’s hard not to recognize the Han river when passing by. His heart starts to flutter in his chest.

“The Han river,” he states, biting his lip ring with expectancy. “Is this a date, hyung?”

Yoongi simply sends him a teasing look with a raised brow as he enters a parking lot and has the car slow down to a stop. Without another word but a chuckle at Jeongguk’s unadulterated excitement, Yoongi exits the car, opening the backseat door and pulling a stuffed backpack out of it, slinging it over his shoulder. Jeongguk watches with big curious eyes, until Yoongi signals him with a quick hand gesture to come outside.

“Hyung, hyung, shouldn’t dates be consensual? You've never asked me if I wanted to go.” Jeongguk smiles brightly, just to be a brat, yet still nervously fiddles with his lip ring as he stands in front of yoongi, both of them in casual clothing, and it's gotten a little cold with the night time chill and so Jeongguk pulls Yoongi closer by his flannel hem.

They stand almost chest to chest, at the beginning of a pathway along the riverside, being passed by passersby on bicycles and other couples with similar intentions for their night. Yoongi faces up to Jeongguk, angling the younger’s head down from his nape with a knowing smirk. “Jeon Jeongguk, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“I don't know,” Jeongguk smiles, eyes sparkling, eye contact and proximity to Yoongi sending shivers down his spine and pressure to the pit of his stomach, “depends, what will we do?”

Yoongi chuckles, taking a step back and grabbing Jeongguk’s hand into his. He starts heading along the pathway, dragging the younger by his hand after him.

“We’ll have a small picnic by the Han river,” he explains with a smile. “I’ll bring food that I made and some wine that I won't drink because I’ll be driving,” Yoongi walks backwards so he’s facing the brunet’s big bunny smile and rose tinted cheeks. “And we’ll sit on a blanket under a tree that’s got led lights installed on it, the colors on it change like the lamps that you like, and I’ll tell you that you look pretty and we’ll talk about the same things we talk about when we’re lazing around in our rooms except we’re in public and we call it a date. What do you say? Wanna go out with me?”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whispers out, face rosy and alive and vibrant even in the nighttime darkness. “It started out really romantic and then you ruined it.” He chuckles with a teasing lilt to him. “You could have taken me to the campus McDonald’s and called it a date and I would have been out of my mind with excitement. You’re so cute for this.”

Yoongi lets out a loud laugh, head thrown back as he shakes it. “Yah, what do you think of me, fucking McDonald’s?”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk stops where he stands, grabs Yoongi's other hand too so they're both secure in his own. His eyes are honest in their happiness and disbelief as he says, “this is my first ever date.”

With a gummy smile, Yoongi looks away. “Then let's get it officially started, yeah?”

They keep walking down the dimly lit path, hearing the water and intertwining their fingers. When they reach the aforementioned tree it's very hard to miss, and Jeongguk stands and stares for a second at the pretty sight.

“Did you know you need reservations for this?” Yoongi chuckles as he puts down his bag, pulling out a blanket and spreading it on the grass. Passerbys stare in curiosity at the bright purple circular led-lights adorning the tree as if they were leaves on its branches. “It’s popular for dates, or so I heard.”

The two of them sit down on the blanket, Yoongi shyly pulling out some pre-packaged boxes and cutlery, along with white wine and a bottle of pineapple juice. “So it doesn't feel like you're drinking alone,” he cracks a smile, making the younger laugh and shyly accept the wine glass offered to him. The lights illuminate the space around them so the darkness isn't blinding but rather dimmed in purple, and there's something inevitably romantic about it.

“Hyung, you're just the sweetest,” Jeongguk pouts as he looks at the perfectly curated boxes of his favorite foods all by Yoongi’s skilled hand. “Thank you for all of this. You really didn't have to. I hope you know I’m equally as happy hogging your living room couch, but this… You're the best, hyung.”

With a shy smile, Yoongi nods happily. “I’m glad you like it. I knew you've never been on a date, but you're kind of a drama fanatic, you know? So I thought a lot about where we should go. If there's somewhere else you'd like to go, or something else you'd like to do, just say it and we can go next time.”

The unexplainable inability to stop a huge grin from spreading over Jeongguk’s features as the words 'next time’ are uttered is almost overwhelming. This might be their first date, quite a while into their relationship, yeah, it’s been a few weeks since Chuseok eve, but it never occurred to Jeongguk that they needed something like this. In his head dates were meant to happen before a couple got together, not after. Now he understands the appeal, very much so.

“I’m taking you, next time.” Jeongguk smiles to himself.

“I’d be very happy with that,” Yoongi chuckles.

They laugh and eat and chat, and Yoongi didn't lie when he said it would be just like when they're home, because at some point with their glasses to the side they lay down with their backs on the blanket and stare at the starry night sky and Jeongguk is laying on Yoongi’s arm, so except for the gorgeous natural view it's almost like they're spread on Jeongguk’s bed, talking in the small hours of the night.

“Did you tell your mom already?” Yoongi looks to his left, nose almost grazing Jeongguk’s cheek.

“Are you joking?” Jeongguk barks out a laugh. “The moment you stepped out of the door on Chuseok eve she hit me with the curious eyes and the ‘so…’ and the dam broke.”

“I thought it was weird she’s never home when I come over these days.” Yoongi mulls over his thought out loud. “Isn’t it supposed to be the opposite? Shouldn’t she make us keep the door open like we’re still in high school?”

“I think she trusts you with my life, or something,” Jeongguk laughs. “And maybe she doesn’t want to hear us making out, hyung. I won’t fault her for it.”

Yoongi laughs, leaning forward to steal a small kiss with the familiar bitter aftertaste of wine. “It’s not my fault you’ve got five years of unrequited yearning to make up for.”

“Unrequited yearning?” Jeongguk laughs out incredulously, lifting himself to his elbows. “Wow, you’ve got some guts, hyung. Using my cute little oblivious crush against me.”

Yoongi shakes his head firmly, “no, no, I recall being told someone here has been in love with me for five years.”

Jeongguk huffs in defeat, laying back down. “Fine. Yeah, well, how long have you been into me, hyung?”

“Mm…” Yoongi’s fingers tighten around their joint hands, lifting them against his mouth and pressing a soft kiss. “Since hyung’s wedding, probably.”

“Really?” Jeongguk breathes out, pretty doe eyes staring back at the blond’s fond ones. “Did you fall for me in my dashing gray suit, hyung?”

Yoongi chuckles, releasing the younger’s hand to cup his cheek instead, softly tracing his thumb back and forth. “I wouldn’t say that. But it was then I first started seeing you differently. You were a little bolder, too.”

“Ah, I think it’s just Daegu. Something in the air makes me want to cause you trouble, hyung.” His signature nose scrunch. It’s so close, so achingly close, Yoongi wants to take a bite off of it and never return it.

With another soft peck, Yoongi goes back to laying down on his back. “Nice of you to fix it all back into place when we’re back in Seoul.”

“I’m nothing but generous,” Jeongguk grins as the words leave his mouth.

“Generous and spoiled, too. Quite a contradicting match.” Yoongi ruffles his hair fondly before tucking a few long strands behind his ear.

“Ah, hyung, didn’t you say you were going to call me pretty? And here you’re throwing shade at me. The rating on this date is going down, I’m going to review it as ‘not true to description’.”

Yoongi scoffs at the smug grin the younger is wearing so proudly, “will you shut up already? Fucking brat.”

“Can’t you see I’m trying to make you make me?” Jeongguk taunts, eyes almost ablaze, and with a huff of disbelief, Yoongi pulls the younger into him and kisses him quiet.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s that cursed hour and a half of the week again, and Yoongi’s ass is planted on an uncomfortable plastic student chair in the music theory lecture hall. He’s taking notes in his designated notebook like a good responsible student, but as it usually does, it gets a bit impossible to concentrate on the professor’s mildly-interesting monologue when two rows behind him two all-familiar voices are talking smack.

In the beginning of the conversation, Yoongi still manages to half-focus on the material he’s actively being taught. He thinks he’s doing great when he hears a name he never seemed to be able to ignore.

“Ryeok, Daejun and Jeongguk oppas have been hanging out as a trio a lot less, don't you think, Minchae-yah? I barely see them together anymore.”

“Well, of course, unnie. It’s because Jeongguk-oppa’s boyfriend doesn't like them, duh!”

“You think? Is he super protective or something? Funny how Jeonggukie-oppa who’s such a free spirit ended up settling down. I'm both happy for him, and super jealous!”

Super protective? No, Yoongi wouldn’t describe himself as such. Actually, he never told Jeongguk to stop hanging out with his party squad. The younger man realized through trial and error during their evolving relationship, that going out with them when he’s not planning on hooking up or getting shitfaced is, to simply put it- mind-numbingly boring. Yoongi hears a dramatic sigh from the seats behind him.

“Another hottie has fallen to monogamy. A true loss.”

Yoongi can't stop himself and stifles a laugh.

“Hey, unnie, is that not oppa’s boyfriend? Two rows up front, the blond one? It’s him, isn't it?”

Yoongi freezes, thinking he got caught eavesdropping. He tries to freeze casually, doodling in his notebook to pretend to be taking notes while the rest of his body is still in its place.

“You’re right!” he hears whisper-yells. “I’ve seen him around with Jeongguk-oppa. I guess he’s the studious type. Opposites attract, huh? They do look good together. Isn’t he a psychology major? I wonder how they met.”

“The only thing I heard is that it was a long, long time ago.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s another slow, sunny morning. The curtains are pulled but the sun is still shyly peaking into Yoongi’s bedroom, coloring the bed sheets crisp white and illuminating Jeongguk’s bare back and arms from where his skin is uncovered. They’re sleeping late because this magical Thursday, they both don’t have any early classes. Neither of them have to get up until 3 pm, and they plan on using that time to unwind and catch on some sleep.

Yoongi slowly wakes up and squints at the sun in his eyes before pulling himself tighter against Jeongguk’s arms, appreciating their warmth and its contribution to the perfect temperature for sleeping into the day.

“Mornin’, hyung,” Yoongi hears a raspy voice, and feels a hand curl around his waist, squeezing it softly.

“Good morning,” he mumbles against Jeongguk’s shoulder, leaving a small peck- sleepy nuzzle?- to his bicep before leaning his head down again. “How did you sleep?”

“Woke up with you, so fuckin’ fantastic.” He lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Mm, you just like your hair played with at night.”

Jeongguk laughs, “the things your hands can do, I swear.”

Yoongi huffs with a smile as Jeongguk rolls to lay on his back, pulling the blond closer until he’s flushed against his side with his arms on his chest. Yoongi draws shapes into the younger’s skin -inked and bare alike- and stares at the goosebumps he raises on it.

“And if I vow off playing with your hair, never again, what then, hm? Will you leave?”

Jeongguk smiles fondly at the smaller man pulled against his side, and lifts his face closer to put his lips on his. Jeongguk holds his jaw in place, thumb caressing over his cheek as he angles Yoongi’s mouth into a deeper kiss, turning onto his side, feeling his chest press against Yoongi’s.

“As if,” he starts between kisses, lips trailing after Yoongi’s. “As if I could ever leave,” he pushes against his lips, “as if I could ever want to.”

Their lips separate, foreheads touching as the both of them breathe each other’s air, facing one another on the bed.

“Your hopeless romantic is coming out,” Yoongi smiles, rolling onto his back, a teasing glint in his eyes, all worries forgotten for the time being as the both of them forget time and responsibilities exist for a while.

Jeongguk chuckles, shaking his head a bit before moving to hover over the other man, lowering his head to his ear to press a soft kiss to where it meets his jaw, “you know nothing yet, hyung.”

He lifts up his head wearing a loopy grin and sweet rosy blush, looking Yoongi in the eyes, dark long bangs falling over between them, no longer in his vision, and he smiles at Yoongi. Looks at him, at the way he’s looking back, the way he’s smiling softly as he pushes Jeongguk’s hair back with no avail, how messy and puffy from sleep he is.

“You’re gonna tell me I'm pretty again?” Yoongi teases, having let him stare as he wished.

Jeongguk looks him dead in the eye, still grinning, before even blinking- “I’m gonna tell you you’re the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on in my entire life.”

Yoongi turns a bit pink in the cheeks, laughing at the straightforward words. It’s funny how he never gets used to the way Jeongguk compliments him, no matter how often he does it. There's something about his direct honesty that makes his heart beat faster. “Logically thinking, that could hardly be true, but I guess it’s likelier since you've been ridiculously into me for years. Couldn’t really look past me, huh, Gguk?”

Jeongguk huffs, leaning down for a short kiss. “You’re blind,” he mumbles. Another peck. “And it’s true.”

Yoongi gives another attempt to pushing Jeongguk’s bangs back, giggly smile on his lips. He uses both of his hands, one for each side, trailing pathways through silky hair with his fingertips. When he lets go, the strands of hair follow. Jeongguk smiles lazily, grabbing Yoongi’s hand and bringing it back up to his head, tangling his fingers in the hair strands at the back of his head. Yoongi runs his hands through the younger’s hair, the way he knows he likes- in slow repetitive patterns, and Jeongguk’s eyes close with appreciation, humming his contentment out.

When they slowly open again, they’re focused on the pink of Yoongi’s lips. It doesn't take long for him to dive down and press their lips together, doesn't take them long to open their mouths and slip their tongues inside, Jeongguk’s lip ring grazing against Yoongi’s tongue. Yoongi controls the languid pace as both his hands tangle in Jeongguk’s hair, pulling gently with the rhythm of their lips, and Jeongguk’s arms are just as busy; one elbow holding him up on the mattress, the other hand curling underneath Yoongi’s waist to reach the small of his back, slightly lifting him off the mattress.

In the process, Yoongi’s shirt lifts up and exposes Jeongguk’s favorite patch of skin. Pale soft stomach, sharp hip-bones and squishy waist. Jeongguk doesn't even remember currently being shirtless, it means nothing to him- but the small peek of Yoongi’s skin makes all the difference, heart beating faster, hands itching to touch. Jeongguk wants to be greedy, wants to take the piece of fabric out of the way completely, wants to so bad, but doesn't. Instead, he kisses a wet trail down Yoongi’s neck, settling his mouth on the line of his clavicles, sucking and biting and leaving his traces.

“Marking me up?” Yoongi chuckles breathlessly. His hands are still gently pulling Jeongguk’s hair.

“Is that okay?” Jeongguk lifts his head up, looking for an answer with his eyes.

“Definitely okay,” Yoongi laughs, “more than okay. Do whatever you like.”

Except Yoongi really shouldn't say these things so thoughtlessly. Jeongguk brings his lips back to Yoongi’s neck, leaving wet kisses and sucking on the supple skin underneath his jaw. “Whatever you like, hyung. Just say the word.”

Jeongguk feels Yoongi chuckle as he continues down Yoongi’s throat and over his Adam's apple, hearing the pretty sounds he’s making. Soon, Jeongguk’s back down at Yoongi’s collarbones, and he’s content with this, he doesn't say a thing, but Yoongi has always been the one person who can read him, who speaks his language.

One more look at jeonguk’s wide blown eyes and he's taking off his shirt. oh god, he's taking off his shirt. Jeongguk doesn't say a thing, but swallows nervously as his eyes speak for him, saying yes, yes, yes, yes.

As he watches Yoongi take off his T-shirt, abdomen stretching with purpose, he’s overwhelmed with the need to touch every visible patch of skin, follow every stretch of muscle and trace every single bone.

“Gguk-ah,” Yoongi breathes out, hyper-focused on the hungry look in Jeongguk’s eyes as he stares at his skin. “You told me I can just say the word.”

Jeongguk brings himself back to eye level with the other man. “Yes, hyung, anything you want.”

“Can I touch you?”

Fuck. “Yes, yes. Just- tell me where you want me, hyung.”

Yoongi takes a few seconds, contemplating his options while Jeongguk’s heart is beating out of his throat. “On your back, please.”

After a long, shaky exhale and the thought of- oh so help me god, It doesn’t even take a second for Jeongguk to settle on his back next to Yoongi. The other man takes his time, though, getting off the mattress and on Jeongguk’s lap, as if it was meant for him, no questions asked.

Jeongguk can already tell this is going to ruin him.

If the way Yoongi looks while straddling his hips isn’t enough, the other man takes a long look at Jeongguk sprawled in front of him, comes down for a short kiss, before finding his ear and saying, “so fucking pretty,” with a small kiss to his jaw.

Saying the full-body shiver that runs through him doesn’t go unnoticed is an understatement. Jeongguk almost has it in him to feel embarrassed. Almost. Yoongi is a very perceptive man, and this time his attentiveness translates into kissing along Jeongguk’s jaw and whispering sweet words against his skin.

“Such a beautiful man, you are. Wanna let you know how good you look, Gukkie.” Yoongi kisses down his throat, hands gliding down his abdomen, feeling the defined muscles across it underneath his palm. He doesn’t miss the gasp that escapes Jeongguk’s mouth at the words. “Built so well, nice and firm underneath my hands. Working out is worth it, when you look this fucking good, huh?”

Jeongguk is red from his cheeks to his ears all the way to his neck, panting as he secures his hands on the other man’s hips placed right on his. “Hyung-“ he squeaks out.

Yoongi gazes at his reddened complexion, a curious smirk on his lips. The look on his face tells Jeongguk this isn’t the first time he entertained these thoughts- which only makes it so, so much worse for him. “You look like you’re embarrassed, but you sound like you like it. Should I keep going, Gguk-ah? I’ve got a lot more to say.”

Jeongguk is slowly losing his restraints. “Yes, I- yes.“

Yoongi smiles down at the other man, he holds his cheek as he leans down to face him. “You’re adorable, Gguk. The cutest little thing. You’re so sweet, getting shy when hyung compliments you.” He chuckles, pressing his lips to Jeongguk’s jaw. “Even getting all pierced and tatted up won’t hide how soft you are.”

“You- you don’t like that I have them? Used to think you might not-“

“I love them, Gguk. Pretty ink on the prettiest boy, an excuse to run my fingers on your skin. Mm and how could I not love the piercings when I can feel your lip ring cold against my mouth when we kiss? Play with it with my tongue like you always do?”

Jeongguk unconsciously purses his lips, feeling the metal against his upper lip, imagining what it feels like for Yoongi to kiss against it. Remembering what it feels like when Yoongi tugs against it with his teeth.

“I love how that feels, too, hyung. So much.”

Yoongi smiles, pushes Jeongguk’s hair off his forehead as he leans closer. “Don’t you know hyung adores every part of you? Love you all dressed up, and when you’re in those pajamas you have since you were fifteen. Love how you look right now, too, all red down to your chest. Has anyone ever gotten you to blush this much, Gguk-ah?”

“Only you, hyung. Feels nice, when you say it.” Jeongguk gulps nervously, cheeks aflame, aware he’s slowly digging his own grave but not quite strong enough to resist.

“Yeah? How so?” Yoongi trails his hands up and down Jeongguk’s chest, intrigued with the way he’s shaped, with the way defined muscles flex unconsciously under his fingertips.

If Jeongguk could blush even more, he would. “It’s- it’s hot, hyung. Really, really hot. I could- could get hard from that alone, I- I think. That’s- that’s how much I like it.”

There’s a glint in Yoongi’s eyes that makes Jeongguk’s stomach flip, staring wordlessly at the pink of Jeongguk’s skin. Yoongi takes his time, running his fingers over Jeongguk’s abs, feather light touches that make goosebumps spread on his skin.

“Very interesting to know you have a praise kink, Gguk-ah. Did hyung not call you pretty enough growing up, that you’re needy for it now?”

Jeongguk squirms around, a little bit embarrassed now that he’s being called out, but also, undeniably turned on, and Yoongi sitting on his lap isn’t of any help hiding that.

“Hyung, this is embarrassing, you’re being mean,” Jeongguk whines, covering his face with his arm.

He hears Yoongi’s chuckle before he reaches to move his arm away from his face, making him focus his sparkly doe eyes back on him. “You can tell me I’m mean all you want, but we both have a way to tell how much you like this, Jeonggukie.”

And so Jeongguk is covered in a new layer of red blush, and a frustrated whine is leaving his lips. He sort of hoped Yoongi would go along ignoring the physical proof at their disposal. The tragic truth is, this situation is embarrassing in a way that makes his insides tingle and his body restless.

Jeongguk lets out a sound between a groan and a whine. “Whoever gave you that mouth of yours personally targeted me.”

“Should I remind you that a moment ago you were begging for more?”

And Jeongguk is once again hiding his face again under his hands. He sometimes forgets how well Yoongi knows him, how deep their understanding of each other runs, that Yoongi always knows how to push his buttons, how to set him off. He shouldn’t be surprised he’s in this situation right now, with his dick half hard against Yoongi’s ass, changing colors to all shades of red because of a few words from the other’s mouth.

“My body just- reacts to you,” Jeongguk splitters, “I’m not usually like this,”

His hands only come off of his eyes when he feels his hyung‘a body warmth, leaning closer until they’re almost face to face- milky pale contrasted with the rosiest pink.

Yoongi looks him in the eyes with a smirk and says, “I like that I have such an effect on you. Makes my ego summersault, if for a moment you thought I wasn’t incredibly pleased to feel your dick reacting against my ass.”

And with all the current embarrassment, and the newly added layer from Yoongi’s comment, Jeongguk adds another extra layer, the cherry on top, the grandest finale of embarrassment, at his cock twitching at Yoongi’s words.

“You really want my ego to explode, huh?”

“Hyung, this is out of my control and entirely your doing.” Jeongguk complains, neck getting redder as moments pass.

Yoongi laughs, gums on show as he plays with Jeongguk’s bangs under his fingers. “yeah, well,” the tip of his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. “Should we do something about it?”

Jeongguk loses all air in his lungs all at once. “If- if you want to,” he replies weakly.

“I do. How would you like us to do that?”

“Ah, hyung, don't make me choose,” Jeongguk chuckles nervously. “I’d be down to do anything you’d like. Every single thing you have in mind, I'd want with you.”

“Gguk, think a little harder for me. What do you want right now? It’s your call.”

Jeongguk looks at his hyung’s patient expression, and he knows he’s going to have to make the choice, no use to sidestepping. He stares at his hyung sitting down on his lap, ass pressed against him, and he knows what he’d have asked for, if it didn't mean as much to him as it does.

Jeongguk’s lips are pursed and his eyes are gazing deep into Yoongi’s. “If it were anyone else but you, I’d have them ride me out right now, just like this. But you’re not just anyone, hyung. I want it slow with you. Want to go slow and get to know your body, so when I finally have you I know exactly what you like and how to make it good for you.”

“I like that idea,” Yoongi caresses Jeongguk’s cheek. “Like it a lot. How do you want it slow, then, Gguk? Tell hyung.”

Jeongguk’s mind runs, playing with the possibilities, “I- shit, I wanna suck you off. Wanna make you feel good, hyung.”

“Weren’t we-” Yoongi starts. “Weren't we talking about you?”

Jeongguk’s head lolls to the side. “I’m sure you can think of what to do with me later, hyung. You already have one way to set me off stored in mind.”

“Well, if that’s what you want,” Yoongi raises a brow at Jeongguk’s words, but doesn't comment. The look in Jeongguk’s eyes tells Yoongi there's nothing else he’d rather do right now, and Yoongi trusts that.

Jeongguk sends him a smile like he just won the lottery, and flips them over with a single show of muscle power. As he looks down at his hyung sprawled underneath him, Jeongguk thinks, oh, he’s so fucking blessed.

When he’s settled down with his knees on each side of Yoongi’s hips, he catches Yoongi’s eyes as he starts to kiss around his chest, using every inch of skin available, committing the feel of him to memory. And with the way Yoongi tangles his fingers in his hair- Jeongguk might be ascending to the afterlife.

The lower he goes, the more reactive Yoongi gets, the harder he pulls at Jeongguk’s hair.

It's fair to say Jeongguk’s in heaven.

His mouth is traveling down Yoongi’s sensitive stomach, the way his lip ring is dragged against milky skin makes the muscles clench and twist under his mouth like magic. He gets a bit more tentative as he gets to Yoongi’s hips, gives attention to the pretty hip bones on display, leaving red marks on bony junctures, but doesn't try to go lower. This isn't quite it.

“Hyung, can I get on my knees?”

“You’re asking?” Yoongi rasps out. “Shit, Gguk, you’re trying to kill me.”

Jeongguk’s lips pull up at the side as he gets off the mattress and falls to his knees at the foot of the bed. Yoongi doesn't waste much time, sits up and pushes himself to the edge of the mattress, looking at the other man’s big eyes gazing at him from where he’s settled on the floor, and fuck, what the hell, he wants to frame that and keep it in his wallet.

Yoongi looks at the way Jeongguk’s hair is messy from the work of his fingers, stares at the overwhelming presence of sincere emotions dancing in the younger’s eyes. And for a moment he’s starstruck. Jeon Jeongguk is on his knees for him right now.

Yoongi brings a hand to the younger’s face, gently cupping his cheek. “You know, if someone told me four years ago that I’d have you like this, I’d have punched them in the face.”

Jeongguk’s lips stretch into a fond smile, eyes soft as he looks up at his hyung. “You’ve always been protective of me.”

“And yet here we are.”

“Except you aren’t my first, or fifth, or tenth. Things don’t really go like you think they would at seventeen. Maybe that’s for the best, though,” Jeongguk smirks up at Yoongi. “I wouldn’t have been half as good at giving head if you were my first.”

Yoongi laughs, enjoying Jeongguk’s confident attitude but liking to tease him just as much. “We’re gonna have to see about that.”

“Okay, then, are we going to keep chit-chatting or am I going to blow you?”

“Whenever you’re ready, Gguk-ah.”

And so Jeongguk jumps into action, has never not been ready for this in his life, slipping his fingers into the waistband of Yoongi’s sweats. The latter brings his hips ups, pushing down his sweats and boxers until they’re pooled at his feet.

Jeongguk’s hungry eyes seize him up, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

And then there’s a warm hand wrapped around the base of his cock, a pink tongue lapping at the tip, and ringed lips swallowing him in. Yoongi loses his mind for a few moments there, a string of curses flowing out of his mouth with every breath.

Jeongguk’s mouth is wet and warm, engulfing him into it with horrifying expertise, sucking at just the right places, dragging that goddamned lip ring, metallic and cold against hot skin, again and again against his head, teasing him every time lips attach back to his cock.

Yoongi’s a bit out of it, a bit dazed, grabbing and pulling at Jeongguk’s hair, feeling his moans and hums vibrating against his length. He watches Jeongguk’s head bob in his lap, moving up and down against him, gasps at the sight of his tongue flattening against his tip, at Jeongguk taking in a mouthful of him, eyes coming up to meet his hyung’s to see his reaction, shit, Yoongi thinks, to see if he’s doing well. If Jeongguk is looking for praise- he sure as hell earned it.

“Gguk, shit- feels so good, I swear you- ah- you can’t be real.”

This time not only can he feel Jeongguk’s moan against his cock, he can also hear it. Watches as Jeongguk eagerly takes more of him inside his mouth, deeper and deeper until his mouth meets his hand that’s busy palming against Yoongi’s base, until his eyes have to shut close for him to be able to keep that pace up.

“Fuck- so good for hyung, so good, keep going, just like that-“

One of Jeongguk’s hands- the one not busy on his cock- grabs at Yoongi’s outer thigh, and the next time when Yoongi opens his mouth, groaning out how pretty Jeongguk’s mouth looks wrapped around him, the younger’s moan comes along with a squeeze at Yoongi’s ass, pushing his hips forward just a tad into Jeongguk’s throat.

Jeongguk knows very well what he’s doing, and Yoongi has not done anything of this sort in too long, so it really doesn’t take much time for him to lose himself completely in the sensation. Jeongguk keeps his eyes on him the entire time, as if feeding off the proof of his impact on the other man. His mouth keeps at it until Yoongi’s all finished and done with, curses and praises leaving his mouth unfiltered and going straight to Jeongguk’s head, blood flowing south, Yoongi’s affirmations of how good he is to him leaving him dizzy.

As Yoongi pants and recollects himself, hands still buried in Jeongguk’s hair, the younger licks at his lips and rests his head against Yoongi’s thigh.

“Should I assume that you liked it?” Jeongguk teases, voice a little roughed up, and watches the blond’s chest rise and fall.

“God,” a breathy chuckle, “what am I gonna do with you, Gguk?”

“Anything you’d like to, Yoongi-hyung.”

And yeah, Jeongguk’s nervous system is building up, because he can only watch Yoongi from this position for so long without his head playing mind games on him, without the realization he has just tasted Yoongi on his tongue making him twitch in his pants, without starting to feel his heartbeat thudding harder between his legs.

“Shit, get over here, lay down,” Yoongi takes his hands out of the mess of dark hair, to run them through his own. He pats the bed, eyes urging Jeongguk out of his star-struck shock and into action. He takes himself onto the bed, laying down on his back, one knee pulled up, and if Yoongi could feel before how hard Jeongguk was, now he can simply look, see the tent in Jeongguk’s sweats and know exactly how needy he is.

“Hyung-” expectancy is traveling through his veins, he can feel his heartbeat in every part of his body, and the other man is bringing himself closer, laying down on his side next to him, bringing their lips together.

Yoongi’s hand is holding Jeongguk’s nape as they push against each other, Jeongguk turning onto his side to mirror Yoongi’s position as he lets the blond taste himself against his tongue. But as much as Jeongguk loves kissing the other man, right now, it just isn't enough. His brain has turned into needy mush at the proximity, and he’s become greedy, his hips unconsciously pushing against Yoongi in an urgent chase after friction.

He whimpers against his lips. “Please, hyung, I- I need to-”

“What do you need, Gguk?” Yoongi’s hands slide down from his nape all the way down to his lower back, the weight of them pushing Jeongguk towards him.

“Need- need you to touch me,” Jeongguk pleads, adding weakly, “please.”

“Of course, Gguk-ah. Want hyung’s hands on you, don’t you?” Yoongi slowly drags his hands from Jeongguk’s back to his hips.

“Yes, yes, please-”

“You did so well, how could hyung deny you anything. Asking so nicely, too.”

Yoongi’s hands travel towards one another along Jeongguk’s pelvis, making the other man whine and squirm, feather-light touches against the fabric of his sweats.

“Fuck, you’re so mean, hyung, just, please-” Jeongguk’s frustrated voice follows his hand grabbing Yoongi’s and lowering it, placing it firmly against where Jeongguk needs it, right on the bulge in his pants. The sound that escapes his mouth is enough proof of how much he wants it.

“Easy, Gguk, you in a hurry?”

Yoongi starts to slowly rub against the fabric of his sweats. “Hyung- I- I’m too hard to function right now, a-ah, you’re insufferable-”

And Yoongi dares to chuckle back at him. His hand continues to tease the other man, either rubbing too slow, or too soft, scratching lightly at the fabric.

“-I should’ve teased your dick until you begged, you tease-” a gasp, “-next time you’re going to have to beg for it, I swear-”

“Mm, I don't know about that, Gguk, you're so mouthy, but you're too good to do any of that. If you really wanted to, you would have already pushed my hand into your pants. Instead, you're letting me do as I please. So, if you aren’t going to fuck into my hand, I’ll be keeping this up.”

“Won’t do it without permission- won’t-” he groans, hips bucking forward. “Need you to say it’s okay,”

“See? A good boy, you are. Always good. Try asking nicely for what you want, Gguk.” Yoongi’s eyes lock onto his, directly facing the sheer frustration in them.

“Want your hand on my cock, you know I do-” he cries out.

“Hm? But my hand is already there, isn't it?” his hand becomes firmer against the bulge in his pants, the slightly smug expression not leaving Yoongi’s face for a second.

“On my skin! Hyung, on my skin, please-”

And so with a chuckle that perfectly embodies his ego right now, Yoongi slips both hands into Jeongguk’s waistband, and pulls the fabric all the way down to the man’s knees.

Jeongguk manages a gasp before Yoongi’s lips are back on his. Jeongguk lets out sigh of relief into his mouth, as Yoongi’s hand settles around the younger’s cock.

The different sounds coming out of Jeongguk’s mouth could probably make a symphony in Yoongi’s head. They range from needy whines when Yoongi’s rhythm’s agonizingly slow against his length, to overwhelmed gasps when his fist is grasping his sensitive head, to throaty groans when Yoongi gives him just what he needs, just right.

Jeongguk’s head is swimming with pleases and hyungs and fucks and gods, but also with the unconcious realization that he doesn't want this to ever end, wants to stay stuck in this moment for hours, his hyung’s lips on his as he cries out, his hand pumping against him, reading Jeongguk’s wants off his body, taking care of him. Jeongguk has never felt this way in his life- has never wanted the moments before he rides out his high to last, needing the immediate gratification of his mind being blank, ridding of his thoughts. Right now- right now he wants to go on just like this, brain filled with his hyung, chest filled with adoration, wants to last longer, as long as he can, even if his body doesn't quite agree with it. He wants Yoongi’s eyes on him, just as attentive as they are filled with lust, wants to keep hearing praises against his lips, to beg for more and to get what he asks for.

The realization hits him just as hard as the conclusion- that he’s going to have this with Yoongi again, whenever they want to. This isn't a one time thing, this isn't momentary. Whatever Jeongguk knows and whatever he’s used to, this is something completely different. He’s going to hear his hyung’s sweet words against his skin tomorrow too, maybe even in an hour again as they snuggle against each other. He’s going to have Yoongi look at him like this again, hold him, touch him, fuck him, because this has a future, and so many things just as good as this are just waiting to happen.

Yeah, it hits him pretty hard. Even if he had sort of wanted to, he doesn't last very long. He chants his hyung’s name against his lips, against his clavicles, grabbing at Yoongi’s back for the life of him. His muscles tense up as he rides out the feeling, Yoongi’s hands not leaving him for a moment.

2022

The house is quiet. The house is dead quiet but for muffled sobs Jeongguk has been letting out for the past couple hours, face pressed against his bedsheets.

He’s crouching on the floor in front of his bed, doesn’t know how his legs haven't given up yet, maybe soon they will too.

It's been hours of sobbing into his hands, into his knees, into the plushness of his mattress’ side, the fabric of sheets or shirts or pants taking the liquids he's giving out and forming morbid stamps of his face in dark contours. He stops crying only when his body doesn't have any liquid left inside, numbing him from the inside out for a couple of minutes, the only sound surrounding him being his own thoughts since his cries have ceased. And then he cries again. And again. And again. He can't stop, can't stop the thoughts he's trapped in, the loops he's found himself in, of crying and hiding and running and crying again. The routine. The exhaustion.

He’s tired.

He’s so tired he doesn't feel like a person anymore, he feels more like a ghost- more like a robot or a zombie or any being that isn't regarded as possessing life inside of it. He doesn't know what feeling is, except for anger and frustration and grief grief grief- at everything dying around him, inside him. So much grief he has no room for anything else, anything other than utter heartbreak and regret and the nerve-shattering lack of control.

He’s tired physically, too. Has to wake up at 5 in the morning tomorrow to manage to be there when she wakes up and make it back to his 8 am class on time.

He’s holding his phone in one of his hands. It, too, has been subjected to the saltiness of Jeongguk’s tears, the cowardice of his fingertips, the anger he feels towards himself.

He lifts it up again through blurry vision and wet sobs.

The chat is still open, the words are still left typed on the screen.

Hyung I’m so sorry but can I please call

He coughs up at his own tears as he rereads it. Lifts up a thumb blindly and deletes every single letter, until the chat is like brand new, wiped clean and empty, like Jeongguk deserves it to be.

His fingers tap at the screen through the wetness in his vision. He wipes a tear that falls directly on the screen.

Hyung I know I’m a horrible person and don’t deserve it at all but can I please please please call you plea-

He watches the letters appear as he commands them and sobs at every word that relocates itself from his brain to his phone. Presses the delete button so aggressively and so many times he feels the screen against his forefinger even when the contact is lost. When he starts typing again, his fingers skid softly of the keyboard, almost afraid, tears dripping one by one onto the floor.

Hyung my mom is sick and I need you

He stares at the text. Stares at the skeleton of it, of what could spark a conversation that could make everything better. that could bring him peace, could bring him his solace, the one he's lost to his own pathetic cowardice, to his own unforgivable selfishness. This one message… he thinks, it could save him.

Yoongi-hyung, too, wouldn't be able to heal his mom. No one can, no one but the doctors and maybe not even them. But he would be able to piece him back together, maybe. To point him in the right direction to being human again- to feeling again- to being alive, even if only barely. Jeongguk leans to press his eyes and nose to his mattress, dampening it once again as he sobs against it.

No. No. Jeongguk can't send that message no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he needs to with every fiber of his being.

Because sending that message will be the act of utmost selfishness Jeongguk has ever committed. The worst crime of all- abandoning the one man that has seen something in him, had cared for him to no end, without a single word to explain his reasoning- only to crawl back and beg for help at the next inconvenience.

Yoongi-hyung doesn't deserve that. Yoongi-hyung doesn't deserve the weight that is Jeongguk back in his life.

His crying ceases a bit, as it has been periodically for the last couple of hours. His heavy heart makes him type out one last message, that he knows he will not send.

I’m so sorry hyung, I miss you so much

He deletes it right away.

He should stop craving to push his weight onto him, to pull him down with him as he drowns. He left Yoongi-hyung, almost a year ago. A year! And yet every day is harder than the one before it. He wonders if having Yoongi-hyung here could have fixed anything- but no. No it couldn’t. Nothing can fix anything anymore but medicine and time.

It wouldn't matter what Yoongi would do, just like it doesn't matter what Jeongguk himself does.

It simply doesn't matter what he does. It doesn't matter if he dedicates his entire life to being there for her, if he quits school to watch her condition, to spend every second of his life with her. It doesn't matter if he stops taking care of himself, loses any sight or resemblance to who he is, nothing he can do will ever, ever come close to help.

Nothing he can do will make her better, and that helplessness is what drives him insane. Drives him mad, makes him go crazy at nights like this when he’s alone and tired, so fucking tired, with his head filled with thoughts, and uncertainties and hesitations and doubts doubts doubts.

The only thing he doesn't doubt, the only thing that still holds as the most tragic fact in his mind, is that it doesn't matter what he does. He cannot help her.

The only thing he can do is live life, try to be there for her, try to not fall apart by himself and to float through life attempting with every inch of him, to not think about it. To search for distractions, for anything that could take his mind off of it.

Because he just- he can't control it no matter what he does- where he is, what the people around him say, or do, or are- he just can't stop thinking about it. His mom might be dying, she might be dying and he doesn't know when, he doesn't know why, he doesn't know what he can do to make it better- he doesn't know why that fate has been decided for her- he doesn't know if it has. She might live, she might not.

He doesn't know anything, really.

He’s helpless to it. The unknown is just trailing after him through life, following him. He sees its shadow whenever he walks, wherever he walks, and there's truly nothing he can do but watch.

So he searches for distractions that could actually, actually work, actually take his mind off of it, that’s when he finds himself with his friends, with Daejun-ah and Ryeok-ah. He finds himself at parties, he finds himself drinking and drinking and drinking, filling himself up with liquor that burns his throat and messes with his stomach and fucks up his liver.

Finds himself fucking around, again and again, doing whatever he can to unravel himself. To tear himself apart. Doesn't know any other way- he's tried everything, he's tried so many things but nothing works but this. Nothing works but this.

So he fucks those strangers at those parties with half his system filled with alcohol and he does it again and again and again until he has nothing inside of him anymore- searching for those few moments in which he can just not think, in which his brain is too fucked up, too fucked out, to think, to process, that his mom is dying, and he has no way, absolutely no way, to make it better.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s another regular Tuesday afternoon for Jeongguk as he’s making his way to the campus coffee shop to meet up with his hyung. The weather has gotten rather chilly so he’s buried in an oversized sweater and one of Yoongi’s larger-than-life scarves.

He spots Yoongi already seated in their usual spot, a cup of scalding hot coffee in his hands, and another mug of hot cocoa patiently waiting for Jeongguk in front of him.

Sliding into the seat opposite of his hyung, Jeongguk smiles at him. “Hey, you. How was your exam?”

Yoongi sighs, “just glad it’s over, Gguk. Don’t wanna hear about music theory ever again. You don’t even know what kind of questions they pulled on us.”

“You’re making me dread next month when my exams start,” Jeongguk chuckles nervously. “At least I’ve got the performance out of the way and only need to pass the theoretical exams.”

“Study and you’ll do well, Gguk-ah. Hyung knows it.” Yoongi smiles, nodding in encouragement.

“Thanks hyung, I hope so. Wanna do well.” Jeongguk mumbles, a shy smile spreading on his lips as his boyfriend picks his hand up and warms it in between his hands. “If I have to retake that history of modern dance elective again I might actually cry.”

Yoongi bursts into laughter, gums peeking out and warming Jeongguk from the inside out. Half his fingers are tangled in Jeongguk’s, the other unconsciously tracing shapes into his palm, raising goosebumps from under Jeongguk’s sensitive skin.

“Are we still doing movie night today?” Yoongi asks, eyes moving from staring at their joint hands to gazing into Jeongguk’s eyes with that fond smile of his that melts Jeongguk every time.

“Hyung, don’t call it movie night, that’s a disrespectful understatement.” Jeongguk fixes himself in his seat, lifting his cocoa mug with his free hand. “We’re going to ironically watch Twilight and take shots whenever we cringe.”

“Right.” Yoongi’s brows raise. “I don’t remember signing up for that, but you and Jimin drunk-giggling over Edward Cullen might be entertaining enough for me to consider.”

“It’s cute how you think you’ve got the right of choice here, hyungie, because me and Jimin-hyung-“ —a ding from Jeongguk’s phone— “are not setting this up for debate, and you said no more dramas, so-“

Jeongguk’s eyes stray to his lit-up phone screen as he talks. His mind slowly wraps around the words appearing in the small notification bubble, slow enough that the screen turns shut before he realizes what he’s read, before he’s had the chance to reread it once and twice and three times, before he’s finished his sentence.

“Gguk?” Yoongi calls, having first row view of his boyfriend’s face twisting from humor to curiosity, and then to shock and to dread.

Jeongguk’s form tenses as he reopens his phone, taps the notification bubble, lets his blown out eyes run over text again and again and again and again and- oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

Suddenly he doesn’t even remember what he was talking about.

“Gguk, hey, hey, what’s up?” Yoongi asks, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand in his, worried eyes searching for answers in his face but finding nothing but frozen anxiety in his eyes.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. He stares at his phone screen until it shuts off, and then his eyes meet Yoongi’s.

Terrified. Jeongguk looks terrified. His arms are pressed against his sides as he holds his phone to his chest, raising with the quickened inhaling of his breaths. For a long moment, he barely moves. Still all except for his eyes, wide and unstable; moving around fast with the pace of his thoughts, running around the space surrounding him, looking, searching.

Yoongi frowns, bringing Jeongguk’s hand closer, asking for his attention. “Jeongguk, what’s wrong? Hyung’s here, let hyung help you. What do you need?”

Jeongguk’s eyes lower to glance at his phone again, before his eyes meet Yoongi’s and his demeanor changes.

“I have to go. Hyung I- I have to go right now. Oh my god, no, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening-“ Jeongguk immediately raises to his feet, stepping out of their booth.

Yoongi pulls him towards him from his hands that are still in his hold, so Jeongguk’s standing over him. “Gguk- Gguk I need you to explain to me what’s going on. Where do you need to go?”

Jeongguk’s blown out pupils meet his hyung’s worried ones, it’s clear in his urgent gaze that the only reason he’s not already out of the door is his hyung’s palm around his hand. “Hyung, she’s in the hospital again, she’s- my mom’s- she said she- she needs me to pick her up— why- why is she there hyung-? Why should she- why else could she-“

Yoongi’s face twists in an expression similar to Jeongguk’s when he realizes what the other man is trying to say.

“Are you- are you sure? There have to be other possibilities-“ Yoongi stumbles over his words. Jeongguk is only half listening, tapping his phone with shaky fingers, waiting, waiting, waiting, his mother not answering her phone.

Once, twice, three times…

“I’m going. I’m- I’m going there right now-“ Jeongguk gets his hand out of Yoongi’s hold, almost jogging out of the coffee shop.

“Jeongguk!” Yoongi calls after him. “Shit,” and then he’s running after the younger man, catching up to him by the entrance and grabbing his arm.

“Do you really think I’m letting you go there alone?”

Jeongguk’s eyes stare into his for a moment, the sinking weight of them clinging to Yoongi’s heartstrings, making it hard to breathe. “Hyung, we have to- we need to go-“

“Let’s go, then.” They never stopped walking towards the university parking lot. “Let me drive, you’re too shaken to get behind the wheel.”

“O-okay. Okay. Please drive fast, hyung- p-please-“ Jeongguk’s voice starts trembling. He gets to the car before Yoongi does, his long legs giving him an advantage, so when Yoongi’s settled in the driver’s seat Jeongguk is already seated and buckled up, already has the address opened in the navigation system. Yoongi starts up the car, wasting no time- unconsciously reactive to Jeongguk’s trembling hands resting on his thighs, tapping into his jumping knees at the pace of his breathing.

Yoongi starts driving. The atmosphere is tense and still and stuffy and there’s not enough oxygen in the car for the both of them, not when Jeongguk’s breathing sounds like he’s used it all up already. So Yoongi cracks a window, lets some cold winter air in, tries to find something to say to cut through the razor-sharp anxiety spreading in the air like thick clouds of smoke.

“Jeongguk, I’m going to need you to breathe a bit slower. Can you do that for hyung?” Yoongi grips the steering wheel tight enough for his fingers to turn white.

Jeongguk’s breathing spikes as his own attention is turned to the sharp shallow intakes taken through his lips.

“Hyung- I'm- s-so scared. I’m so scared. I’m so scared-“

“I know. I know Gguk. This situation is crazy scary and I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now. But please- try to breathe as slow as you can. Drag it out. Hyung needs to hear you do it.”

Jeongguk tries for him. Yoongi keeps his eyes on the road but listens for the dragged out intakes of breath, monitors the sharpness of them, tells Jeongguk he’s doing great, goads him until he’s breathing normal again.

It’s quiet as Jeongguk calms down his erratic breathing and Yoongi’s hand finds his. He intertwines their fingers together and squeezes. “I’m with you, Gguk. We’re in this together, okay? Whatever happens.”

“I can’t go through that again, hyung. I just can’t. Seeing her like that-“ Jeongguk shakes his head, words breathy as he lets them out. “I can’t take that again.”

“You won’t need to do it alone.” Yoongi holds eye contact with the younger for as long as he can, before going back to focus on the road.

It doesn’t take long to get there, and Jeongguk’s hands start shaking the moment they exit the car. Yoongi grabs one of his hands into his as he lets the younger lead them to their destination.

A receptionist greets them as they enter the lobby, all too familiar to Jeongguk. His legs shake as he leans over the reception desk to ground himself. “H-hi, I’m here to see my mom, Choi Soo-ah. She’s- she’s supposed to be in department four.”

“Just one moment, sir,” the clicking and tapping of the computer are the only sounds around them, each repeated sound making the turbulence in Jeongguk’s gut worsen.

“Sir, I’m afraid there is no Choi Soo-ah admitted in department four.”

“What?” Jeongguk frowns. His heart starts to beat faster, ringing in his ears. “She told me she’s here- she- she said she’s here-“

“Maybe try Jeon Soo-ah?” Yoongi suggests, arms wrapping around Jeongguk’s waist in an attempt to pull him down from the panic that can easily be seen spreading through his body in uneven waves.

“No, no one by that name in department four, either.”

Jeongguk lets out a shaky gasp as he turns around to face Yoongi. “Hyung, hyung where is she- hyung-“

“Hey, breathe, Gguk. Breathe for me. Let’s try and call her again, okay? Hyung’s gonna call her for you now.” Yoongi takes out his phone and finds her contact, calling right away.

The line rings a few times.

“She still isn’t answering- oh god, what am I supposed to do, I need to see her, hyung- hyung I need to see my mom, please-“

There are tears welling up in Jeongguk’s eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks at any given moment.

“Hello?” Ms.Choi’s voice rings through the air and cuts the words out of Jeongguk’s mouth.

“Mom? Mom?” Jeongguk takes Yoongi’s phone right out of his hand, doesn’t even breathe before he speaks into it.

“Jeonggukie? Hi sweetie, is everything okay? Why are you calling me from Yoongi’s phone?” His mother’s voice is as calm as ever, a stark contrast to how Jeongguk’s insides rage.

“Y-you didn’t answer my calls, I t-tried calling so many times,” Jeongguk straight out sobs.

“Jeongguk-ah, are you crying? Hey, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Where are you?” he sniffles, drying his tears with his sleeve. “We’re in reception, th-they’re saying you aren’t here. I need to- to see you, mom, please,”

“Baby, hey, you can see me, it’s okay, I’m right there. Can you find room 218 for me? Can you ask where is it for me?”

Jeongguk’s gaze turns to Yoongi for help, he doesn’t need to ask twice, Yoongi’s already asking the receptionist for directions.

“218? That’s in department two, not four. Two blocks down, first floor, last door on the right.”

Yoongi and Jeongguk looks at each other in question.

“Four? You went to department four? Jeongguk- Jeonggukie, my baby, Oh, my sweet boy, I think you misunderstood. Oh no, oh honey I’m so so sorry- this is just a regular checkup. Did you think-? No, baby no, quite the opposite, the doctor says I’m as healthy as a bull. Everything is okay.”

“W-what?” Jeongguk squeaks out. “What?”

“You must have been so scared. Oh, my baby. Come here, come see me, and we’ll go home, yeah? I’m so sorry,”

Jeongguk can’t formulate a reply, can’t make coherence of the erratic flow of thoughts in his brain, of the irregular rhythm in which his heart pumps blood to the rest of his body. He just stands, and just stares, eyes far away.

Yoongi takes over. “We’ll be right there, Ms. Choi. See you in a bit.” He says into the phone, pockets it to free up his hands, grabs Jeongguk’s waist with one hand and his nape with the other, pulling him into his chest. He holds him against him, to feel the rhythm of his chest going up and down, to regulate his own. To focus on the squares he’s drawing with his fingers into the soft hairs on the back of his head that’s tucked into Yoongi’s neck.

And Jeongguk cries. The moment his face is hidden in the other’s body the dam breaks down, the numbness of momentary disassociation fades, and the tears flow out. Jeongguk cries, he fists the fabric of Yoongi’s hoodie and cries, sobs, and Yoongi holds him tight into his body, whispering- it’s okay, she’s safe. You’re safe, I’m here.

When the sobs quiet down into wet sniffles, Jeongguk pulls his head away and breaks the hug. “I wanna see her,” he mumbles, pressing the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, rubbing the wetness away.

Yoongi nods, and together they follow the directions Yoongi made sure to keep in mind. In five minutes Jeongguk’s red rimmed eyes lay on his mother’s figure, in her jeans and blouse and trendy canvas shoes, not in a hospital gown. He all but runs to her, hugging her close as if the touch will confirm this was all in his head. As if his touch could confirm or deny her health.

“Let’s go home, honey.”

And Jeongguk nods, wipes his damp eyes on his sleeve, but keeps his hold on his mom’s arm, not letting go.

Yoongi drives them back. Jeongguk sits in the back seat with his mom, refusing a moment apart, still holding, still confirming to his brain of her presence with him.

When they arrive, the three of them sit on the living room couch, a light hearted movie turned on the TV, but they aren’t really paying attention to it. Yoongi watches the two together instead, watches Jeongguk curl into her, watches her caress his cheek. He should feel like he’s intruding on a delicate moment, but Jeongguk’s fingers are threaded into his, and Yoongi feels like this is where he belongs.

Ms. Choi goes up to sleep at some point during the night, with a soft kiss to her son’s head and a ruffle to Yoongi’s hair. The two of them stay on the couch, Jeongguk’s eyes staring blankly into the TV screen, clearly not actually paying attention to it. Yoongi curls the other man into his side, brings his folded knees to rest against his thighs and his head to lay against his chest, kisses the top of his head.

“I’m sorry for today.” Jeongguk whispers into Yoongi’s shirt, voice cracking.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, Gguk-ah?” Yoongi asks. He can guess what Jeongguk’s thought process is, what his mind is running through right now, but wants the younger to use his words, so Yoongi could use his own to remove any doubt in his mind and ease up his worries.

“I jumped to conclusions, and overreacted, and dragged you all the way there only to have a breakdown and go back home. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Gguk-ah. Hyung would drive you all the way to Daegu if you asked me to, even if the reason is silly. So when you’re anxious about your mother’s health? Peak boyfriend behavior is to take you there. Hell, even peak friend behavior. I want to be there when you need me, Jeonggukie. I’m relieved and happy that your assumptions were wrong, but you made these assumptions because you were scared, and that’s how brains work, you know? They short circuit sometimes during crisis. You were terrified, you thought you might need to relive the hardest part of your life, whose brain wouldn’t short circuit at that? I know mine would have, for sure.”

“I really can’t go through that again, hyung. I really can’t.” Jeongguk shakes his head against Yoongi’s chest.

“You won’t need to. The doctors say she’s healthy, you heard your mom. This was a check up to make sure that doesn't happen again. I know you’re scared at the possibility, but I don’t want you caught up in anxiety at what ifs. She’s healthy and she’s here with you and that isn’t going to change anytime soon, if at all.”

“I know- I know that now, I just- hyung, I’m scared. I’m so scared. I try to rationalize this and I know what you’re saying is true, but still- I’m still so scared.” Jeongguk’s hands fist at Yoongi’s shirt, head shaking against his chest and knees pulling impossibly closer into himself.

“It’s okay to be scared. If you’re afraid, allow yourself to be afraid. I’m right here to hold you through it, okay?”

“Thank you. I- thank you. I don’t know if I could do it alone again if I ever need to, hyung,” Jeongguk curls inwards, fisting his hyung’s shirt tighter, until his knuckles turn pale and he can feel his own fingernails digging into his palms. He pushes himself into his hyung’s chest, grabbing his arms to wrap around him, engulfing him like a safety blanket, like a shield. Jeongguk looks so small, curled into himself and then into Yoongi, his sweater swallowing his frame in. “The memories of- of suffering by myself, of losing myself- and not having you with me… they seem like fragments from a nightmare I just woke up from. Like it couldn’t have been my life.”

Yoongi moves a bit of bangs from Jeongguk’s forehead and gives the skin a long, close-mouthed kiss. “Thank you for allowing me to be here for you, Gguk-ah. I’ll always be here, right where you need me, okay?”

“Okay, hyung,” Jeongguk replies shakily into the other’s chest. “Okay. Thank you, I love you. ”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk’s bed sheets are soft and warm against Yoongi’s skin, the younger’s body temperature caged in under the fabric. Chestnut hair strands tickle Yoongi’s skin as kisses are pressed along his neck with purpose. One, two, three, along the line of his throat, finishing off at the point of conjunction with his chest, where he settles his head to rest against.

A soft palm on his chest, fingers trailing patterns all the way from his pecs over to his biceps, and further to where Yoongi’s arm is lazily stretched, wrist tipping off the mattress. Intertwining their fingers into a gentle hold, Jeongguk’s hard arm muscles packed into plush smooth skin, resting against his chest.

Yoongi lets out an appreciative hum, almost breaking the silence. They’re not talking, for a while. Just touching, lightly. Just catching their breaths, just holding one another.

Jeongguk always gets a little quiet, after. Yoongi grew to love that, has never outwardly questioned it, has only made sure it was a content quiet, and not a sad one.

There’s intimacy in it, even more so than the act that comes before it- a little more vulnerable. Like the younger has to take a moment. Like he has to finalize his grasp on his feelings, every single time. Like his thoughts fall out of his grasp and are left to be carefully recollected.

A gentle caress around the outline of his fingers. Lining them with his own.

“Hyung,” the small whisper breaks the silence. Jeongguk’s face angles up on Yoongi’s chest, catching his eyes. “Do you think… things would have been different between us, had we kept in contact?”

Yoongi hums in thought, a hand reaching to lazily move through messy chestnut strands. “Probably, yeah.”

Jeongguk nods silently, going back to stare at their fingers, seeming to retreat back into his own head. Yoongi wants to hear him, wants to ponder over his thoughts with him, wants to take part in this intricate what-if Jeongguk had created in his head for them in the past few moments of silence. So he adds as an afterthought, “I only really ever saw you as more than a kid after we met again.”

Jeongguk huffs softly, but Yoongi can see his bunny teeth in view as he grins into Yoongi’s chest. He draws shapes into Yoongi’s palm, spreading all the way to his wrist. “I stopped being a kid a while before that.”

“I’m well aware,” Yoongi chuckles. “But I’ve always felt protective of you, it’s hard to shift your view on someone like that. I think, if we stayed together, because of that reason it would have taken a very long time for me to see you romantically.”

“I understand,” he nods, cold nose pressing against Yoongi’s warm skin. “I would have waited for you.”

“Of course,” Yoongi smiles at the man on his chest. “You’ve been in love with me for five years, after all. What’s another one or two?”

“Don’t tease,” Jeongguk smiles sheepishly. “I would have waited much longer than that.”

“No, I think at some point you would have tried to get over me,” Yoongi smirks into a kiss he plants on the younger man’s forehead. “I think you would have found someone else, only for it to not work out because of your feelings for me.”

“I would never have let anyone else touch me, I think, if I realized I loved you in time.” Jeongguk’s words are laced in unmasked melancholy, in a bit of regret. Too quickly uttered to be fresh conclusions in his mind. “Maybe you would have even been my first time.”

“That would have been nice,” Yoongi allows him this, for a short while. Goes along, creates an alternate dimension in his head for them, for what could have been. He has a feeling Jeongguk already has one of his own, tucked into the hidden corners of his mind, maybe even has had it for a long time. “I could see that happening. Maybe when you got to university. Jimin-ah would try to meddle and make me realize I’m being flirted with by my best friend.”

“Would I be flirty? I don’t know…” Jeongguk presses a thumb to the pulse point at Yoongi’s wrist. “I feel like that’s a part of me that sort of unlocked when I started messing around.”

“To be unlocked it has to be a part of you first, no?”

“Okay, yeah. Maybe I’d flirt with you, then. And Jimin-hyung would root for us. My first time would be nice with you. And my mom will get better, we know that now.”

Yoongi’s fingernails run slowly along the short hairs at the brunet’s nape. “Was your first time bad, Gguk?”

“The first time with a girl, I was way too drunk to even… yeah. The first time with a guy- I was not even remotely drunk enough.”

“That bad?” Yoongi whispers into his hair.

“Maybe as bad as yours, if you had gotten it on at a party with someone you don’t even know.”

“Oh. That makes me sad.” He says with a frown on his face, pressing a long kiss onto the top of the younger’s head. “I would have treated you well.”

“And you do treat me well, hyung. It’s so overwhelming sometimes.” He stares at their intertwined fingers, tightly pressed together, a bit unfocused. “I’ve done this a thousand times but never like this. It never felt like this and- and I can’t help but get a little mad at myself, that I missed out on having this all this time. I could have had this. I could have not known anything else.”

Yoongi tightens their hold of each other even more. “It’s just a fantasy, love. The truth is, we would not have gotten together for at least a year or so, if not more. Weirdly enough, our reality is probably the fastest way in which we could have gotten together, in all timelines combined. I would have been stubborn, and blind, and honestly a little guilty, thinking I’m taking advantage of our friendship, misusing your trust, or something. You know me. It’s all fun and games to ask these what-ifs, but what we have right now is wonderful, and it’s here. So let’s just- let’s just keep loving each other like this, okay?”

Yoongi brings their intertwined hands up to his mouth, holds his lips against the back of Jeongguk’s palm, and feels him nodding his head against his chest.

“You’re right. Of course, hyung. Thank you, I just- I love you.”

Just as Jeongguk presses his lip to the skin of Yoongi’s chest underneath him, sneaking an arm around his waist, the sound of Yoongi’s ringtone starts playing, making their heads snap to the nightstand.

Yoongi isn’t quite a phone call type of guy, so he doesn’t get them often. He perks up at the sound with a curious hum, stretching his free hand onto the nightstand to fetch his phone.

Against all expectations, or perhaps quite consistent with Yoongi’s phone call history, the one calling him is his mom.

“Huh?” He lets out.

They haven’t talked in a few months, not since he didn’t show up for Chuseok, and while usually he’d put his phone away when he’s got a boyfriend pressed against him all pretty and vulnerable- his mother never calls.

“I think I need to take this. It’s my mom.”

“Your mom?” Jeongguk’s brows raise in surprise as he lifts his gaze to Yoongi’s. “Pick up, hyung, see what’s going on.”

Yoongi nods, feeling Jeongguk’s head return to laying against him, rising and falling with his breathing, as he presses the answer button.

“Hello? Mom?”

“Yoongi-yah, I know we haven’t been on the best terms but there is news you need to hear.”

As always, his mom goes straight to the point.

“News? What news?” He frowns.

“Your brother is going to be a father,” she says.

Yoongi instinctually straightens out on the bed, raising up on his elbows, causing the younger man to lift his head off of him, curiosity burning in his eyes. “Hyung is- what?”

“They’re expecting a child. A girl. In two months. I figured you’d like to know.”

“Wait- I- two months? How am I just hearing about this now?!” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling Jeongguk’s soft thumb caressing against his hip as he watches him with worried Bambi eyes.

“I only found out today too.”

“Hyung didn’t tell you his wife is pregnant?” Yoongi asks incredulously. Jeongguk’s jaw drops, sending Yoongi a look of shock. Yoongi sends him one of the same nature right back. “He got married a few months ago- oh.”

Okay. That makes sense then. Of course his hyung didn’t want to tell their mother he had knocked up his girlfriend before they were married. Of course they would get married before breaking the news down to her. Honestly, he thinks he would have done the same, if he was in his hyung’s place.

“Yes, they did, Yoongi-yah. I’m sure you can understand the situation just fine. I’ll keep you updated on how everything is going. Can we expect you here when the baby arrives?”

“Of course you can, of course I’ll be there. Let me know and I’ll be on my way right away. I’ll talk to Hyung too. Thank you for letting me know, mom.”

“Of course, son. Well, I trust that everything is okay with you? I hear it’s exam season.”

“Oh.” Yoongi digests her words, letting them sink in. His mother is asking about his studies? He looks around the room as he accepts his shock, eyes quickly skimming over his and Jeongguk’s frames, the way the covers are pulled on top of them, the curious look Jeongguk is sending his way. “It is. It’s going okay so far, a lot of studying.”

“I see. Make sure you don’t skip any meals, Yoongi-yah. Study well but take breaks, yes?”

Yoongi is having difficulties letting his mother’s words sink in. Not once in his adult life has he ever heard these words from her.

“Ah, yes, thank you. Don’t worry, Jeongguk-ah makes sure I’m taken care of.”

Jeongguk sends him a fond smile as their eyes meet.

“Good, good. He’s a good boy. Well, I’ll leave you to study. Let’s talk again soon, Yoongi-yah.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Bye mom,”

“Bye, son,”

When the call ends, Yoongi stares at his phone for a few seconds in silence.

“That’s not a face of someone who just heard he’s gonna be an uncle.” Jeongguk chuckles, eyebrow raised.

“I- she asked how my studies were going. And told me to remember to eat and take breaks. Did I get sent to another dimension? Am I dreaming? Is this a prank?” Yoongi sits up, back against the headboard.

Jeongguk’s eyes soften, moving to lean on his elbows. “Maybe she realized there’s no perfect son.”

“Twenty two years too late.”

“I don’t know, hyung,” Jeongguk mirrors his position and cuddles into his hyung’s side, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers. “I think it’s nice of her to try and make amends. I think you should give her a chance. Maybe this is the start of a healthy relationship between the two of you.”

“Or this is going to become a competition between me and hyung’s fuck-ups. He knocked up his girlfriend before marriage? Well I’m dating a man. Who’s the winner here?” Yoongi’s frown is more confused than frustrated, attempting to decipher the motives behind his mother’s words- but the truth is, he’s never learned to read her that well.

“Even if that happens, I think she’ll start to realize she might lose the both of you if she keeps up the judgmental act. No mother wants to lose contact with her children. She just has to learn her lesson, and to me it sounds like she’s starting to. This is good news, hyung.” Jeongguk squeezes Yoongi’s hand in his.

“You’re right,” he nods, pausing for a moment, eyes going wide. “You’re right, and I’m going to be an uncle.” Yoongi’s expression shifts from shock to realization. He sits up straighter, “there’s going to be a tiny human running around calling me uncle Yoongi. Oh my god.”

The two of them burst into excited giggles, wrapping their arms around each other in shared exhilaration.

“I can't wait to be there with you to experience it, hyung,” Jeongguk peppers kisses onto Yoongi’s scrunched up face, holding him close as happy giggles continue escaping his lips. “I can’t fucking wait.”

2018

It’s right after school hours, his backpack still slinging on his shoulder as Jeongguk enters the Min household. He hasn’t seen Yoongi all day at school, and he needs his help with some geometry homework he couldn’t quite crack. He takes off his combat boots at the door, a small voice announcing his arrival to no one in particular by habit. He doesn’t see Yoongi in the living room, where he usually is, so his socked feet pitter patter on the floor as he makes his way through the house.

“Hyung?” He calls. “Yoongi-hyung?”

There’s no reply, the house is quiet. Jeongguk knows Yoongi’s mother finishes work only later in the day, and that Yoongi’s hyung only comes back home from university on the weekends these days. The surprise isn’t that they aren’t home- but rather, Yoongi not being there. Where could he be, if not here, and not at school?

Jeongguk gingerly makes his way towards Yoongi’s bedroom. When he’s close enough, he thinks he hears a sound- oh. So Yoongi’s just in his room. That’s odd- his hyung usually prefers to spend his afternoons in the living room lounging in front of the TV or reading.

Jeongguk shrugs to himself. Whatever- as long as his hyung’s home and he didn’t walk here from school for nothing.

He doesn’t think twice before pushing a hand on the doorknob and opening the door. “Hyung are you here? I need-“

The words die on his lips as his eyes forward what they’re viewing to his brain. His hyung is laying in bed, and a man- Minhyuk-hyung, his boyfriend- is on top of him, and they’re- they’re- they’re naked and- “oh my god!” He squeals out before shutting the door close, both of the boys’ surprised faces etched into the back of his eyes.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-“ he keeps chanting under his breath, hurrying away from the room and towards the door. He makes sure to shut the front door as loud as he can so they know for sure he’s left, before speedwalking away as fast as his legs allow him.

When he’s home and in his room, it’s maybe a fifteen minutes walk, and he spent it phrasing and rephrasing an apology text to his hyung. When he’s sitting on his bed his fingers anxiously press send.

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:29] hyung im so sorry
[15:29] i'm so so so so so so so sorry
[15:29] i'm gonna knock from now on I swear

Jeongguk feels like he should type more, that he should apologize more, but a small text bubble tells him Yoongi is typing.

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:30] I’m sorry you had to see that
[15:30] even if it was by mistake

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:30] I didn’t even see anything!!!! I swear!!!!!

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:31] you don’t have to lie gguk
[15:31] I think it was kind of obvious what was happening

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:32] I didn’t know you and minhyuk-hyung were that serious?

Jeongguk sends. And then immediately regrets.

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:32] I’m sorry that’s none of my business pls don’t answer that

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:33] it’s okay
[15:33] we haven’t been dating that long but we both said we wanted to, so…

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:34] how was it?
[15:34] SHIT don’t answer that!!! I'M SORRY

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:34] ㅠㅠㅠ
[15:35] it was good

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:36] better than last time?

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:36] better than last time, yeah

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:36] so you aren’t in pain? I’ll punch him if you are hyung

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:37] minhyuk-hyung could take you down in a second ㅋㅋㅋ
[15:37] but yeah I’m good, actually
[15:37] it really was good

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:38] I’m sorry for interrupting then

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:38] it’s fine
[15:38] minhyuk-hyung says hi

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:39] hi minhyuk-hyung…

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:39] he’s leaving in a bit, he has practice
[15:39] did you come over to hang out or?

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:40] he’s leaving already? Shouldn’t he stay with you after?…
[15:40] and uh, it isn’t important
[15:40] I’ll just tell you tomorrow

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:40] you sure?
[15:40] and I told you, he has practice

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:40] well he should stay either way

From: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:41] ㅋㅋㅋ calm down gguk
[15:41] you watch too many dramas
[15:41] it’s perfectly okay for him to have a life

To: Yoongi-hyungie
[15:42] idk, whatever

Jeongguk stops replying, then. He doesn’t like how Yoongi-hyung is defending Minhyuk-hyung’s behavior. They just- they just had sex! How is he leaving so soon? He should stay and- and cuddle, or whatever. Isn’t that what couples do? Jeongguk thinks he wouldn’t have liked to stay by himself after- after. Not that he’s ever been close to doing something like that- but his hyung is older and- and has done it before. He doesn’t think Yoongi-hyung would have left anyone by themselves after doing that with them. No, Jeongguk is sure he wouldn’t.

From that day forward, he stops calling Minhyuk hyung. He doesn’t even know him. Doesn’t even like him. Minhyuk-ssi will have to do, until he starts treating his Yoongi-hyung like he deserves to be treated.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As expected, the baby arrives two months later. It’s a beautiful baby girl- Yoongi can already tell from the one picture he got sent yesterday that she got her father’s cat-like eyes- a Min’s family gene. The giddiness is in his every cell as Jeongguk drives them to Daegu, pretty much the moment he gets the news from his mother and the two of them have slept enough hours to have their hands on the wheel.

“You’re so adorable, hyung. I wanna squish your cheeks. You keep smiling to yourself. Excited to meet Daeyeonie?” Jeongguk smiles softly at the other man, the way his leg is jumping up and down where he sits, the endearing smile he’s wearing.

“Excited? God, Jeongguk-ah, I think I’ve got energy drinks instead of blood cells flowing in my veins.” He laughs out breathily. “How long until we get there?”

“We literally just got out of Seoul.” Jeongguk replies, holding a laugh.

“Fuck.” Yoongi sinks into the seat. “This is going to take forever.”

It doesn’t take forever, actually. It takes about three hours. Yoongi is excited and impatient when they finally park the car at the hospital his hyung had texted him to come to, but not impatient enough to not wait for his boyfriend to catch up with his pace.

He doesn’t even remember the way to the room his hyung’s wife is staying in. He briefly remembers asking for her well-being, but only clearly remembers the little sunshine being held in his mother’s arms.

Jeongguk’s eyes light up just as much, although half of his fondness has to be credited to Yoongi’s purely wholesome smile.

“Hi, hi, pretty little thing, hello,” he whispers to the baby- an adorable lump of flushed skin wrapped in a blanket. “I’m your uncle Yoongi, Daeyeon-ah. Hello.”

“Let her hold your finger, hyung,” Jeongguk ushers him, meeting his eyes and watching the pure amazement and disbelief in them as her tiny fingers wrap around his. Jeongguk feels overwhelmed, entirely outside his body, as he focuses on the person he loves flushed with adoration and joy.

Yoongi grabs Jeongguk’s hand, pulls his index finger towards the baby in his mother’s arms, places it in the little girl’s miniature palm for her reflexes to close around it. “This is your other uncle, Jeonggukie, say hi to Jeonggukkie, Daeyeonie.”

And yeah, Jeongguk can’t even feel the curious gazes of the rest of the people in the room, can’t even feel the heat in his cheeks. Can only feel tiny fingers holding his and a warm palm gently holding at his wrist, and he thinks- is this what love is? Yoongi sharing this with him, feeling unmeasurable joy and immediately wanting to share it with Jeongguk- isn’t that love?

His eyes are a little bit moist.

“Ah, don’t you cry Jeongguk-ah, I think enough people have cried in this room in the past few hours to fill a bucket.” Yoongi’s mom chuckles, catching the glistening of his irises.

Yoongi turns to look at him with surprise in his eyes, but not enough of it to overcome the happiness in them. “You’re crying?”

Yoongi’s hand leaves his wrist to squeeze at his shoulder. “I’m just- I’m so happy. She’s beautiful, I’m so happy for you, and for her- god,”

“Jeongguk-ah, you’re so sweet,” Yoongi’s hyung chuckles, ruffling his hair. Jeongguk ducks his head lower, a bit embarrassed, and lets his finger out of the baby’s hold. He’s always been the emotive type in these situations, surely it wouldn’t be a surprise the hopeless romantic he is is moved by the birth of a baby- or by the way his boyfriend manages to showcase his love for him even in this situation.

Yoongi’s mom passes the baby over to her father’s hands, who sits next to his sleepy wife on the hospital bed. “I’m going to bring you some water.”

When it’s just the four of them, his hyung takes his chance.

“I’m happy for you two,” he holds a small smile, rocking the baby in his grasp.

Both their heads snap towards him in unison, eyes blown out. “You’re happy for us? Your first child has just been born, Jesus-“ Yoongi exhales out to try and mask his surprise.

His hyung chuckles. “Still. we’re happy you found each other. I just mentioned that you’re bringing Jeongguk-ah with you, we wondered if you were a thing now, and I said I sure hope so.”

Both of their faces turn red as they face each other, spluttering their surprise. “How did you- we didn’t-“ Jeongguk tries for a full sentence, but isn’t able to overcome the embarrassment at being caught red handed.

“There’s something private about the way you look at each other,” his hyung nods. “It’s different from when you were kids.”

Yoongi stands there, shell-shocked and embarrassed. He never imagined his hyung finding out about his and Jeongguk’s relationship like this- in the hospital room with his knowingly-smiling wife and his cute baby girl present.

Jeongguk’s chest hurts. They are the first family members of Yoongi’s who get to meet him as more than Yoongi’s childhood best friend, more than his current friend. This is the first time they see him as what he’s become- his boyfriend. His partner.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, and bows. “Thank you hyungnim, I’ll- I’ll take good care of him.”

When he straightens out he’s so red in the face it should be worrisome, and Yoongi’s mouth is slightly gaping at him.

Yoongi’s hyung lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, I know you will. Come over next family holiday, can’t wait to see the aunties’ reaction to you two kissing. Priceless.”

Jeongguk laughs at the comment, not really wanting to put that scenario in Yoongi’s head if he isn’t comfortable with it.

“No one knows yet- I mean, you just kind of guessed- I guess we should tone it down, then? If it’s so visible?”

“Ah, just be comfortable. Your mother is way too preoccupied with us to bat an eyelash at you. We’ve got you.” His hyung’s wife supplies, a warm smile sent at the two of them.

And, well, she isn't wrong.

Yoongi and Jeongguk spend the weekend in Yoongi’s childhood home- a little quiet now that it’s just his mom and them, but the day after his hyung and his family- god, is it absurd for him to think- spend some time with them after they've officially been released from hospital care. Yoongi adores every second with his niece, commits her to memory and forces her father to promise to send pictures and videos and- yeah.

That evening when it's just them three again, it's a little hard not to be self conscious around the house. To not shake Jeongguk’s hands off his waist as he makes coffee, in case his mother walks in the kitchen and sees. But after spending time by themselves locked behind the door of Yoongi’s old room- he quickly forgets he ever needed to worry. It’s impossible for them to not fall into habit, into being Yoongi and Jeongguk, two men in love.

And, well, it's extremely in-character for Yoongi, after all, to overthink something that proves to be irrelevant, because the moment the three of them sit around the dining table for dinner, his mother doesn't wait a beat.

“So, how long has this…” his mother makes a vague hand gesture in their direction with her chopsticks. “Been going on?”

It’s safe to say Yoongi chokes on the water he’s been sipping on, and that Jeongguk’s face turns six shades redder, a hand covering his mouth to fail at masking his shock- his eyes always giving him away.

“I- uh- what?” Yoongi says dumbly, after regaining his ability to breathe.

“Granted, us mothers had our suspicions for years. But it did take a while, didn't it?” She says between sips of broth and slurps of noodles. Yoongi stares, outwardly, too shocked to think about manners. He tries to read her expression, to put together the available puzzle pieces so he could understand what her opinion of this is. But it's futile, really. His mother’s poker face is unbeatable and her disinterested expression is almost permanent by now.

“It was- um,” Jeongguk starts, looking nervously at Yoongi for support. “It was during Chuseok.”

“Ah, Chuseok.” Her face turns bitter, as if the reminder of where Yoongi had spent it, or where he hadn’t, tastes vile on her tongue. She sends a pointed look at Jeongguk. ”From now on, you bring your mother over here for holidays, alright? You all join us.”

There’s something underlying in the invitation that Yoongi’s chest reacts pleasantly to. If this is a way for her to secure her son at family holidays, or if it’s her odd way of inviting his boyfriend over as his plus one- he doesn't care. Welcoming Jeongguk- welcoming his boyfriend and his mother to a family gathering- that sounds a lot like acceptance. That sounds a lot like support. It’s the most he’s ever gotten.

Jeongguk sends Yoongi a look of badly covered awe, before replying- “ah, yes- of course I- I’ll let my mom know, yeah.”

Yoongi’s hand finds Jeongguk’s under the table, and after a chuckle of relief and a squeeze to release the tension of uncertainty, they finally dig into their food.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk and Yoongi lay on Yoongi’s childhood bed, sheets a mess around them as their bodies roll together, lips chasing one another’s, soft sounds escaping their mouths between licks and nips and pecks, between pants and gasps.

“There’s nothing better than this,” Jeongguk lets out of his mouth through hard pants, moving to bite and suck and kiss around the pretty pale line of the older man’s throat, bare for him and his mouth only. “Nothing can fucking top this.”

“Gguk-“ Yoongi moans, hips thrusting together.

“I want this for the rest of my life, do you hear me?” Jeongguk rasps against the shell of Yoongi’s ear. “For the rest of my fucking life.”

“Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi rasps out, hands tangling in the other’s long locks. “You’re being a sap.”

“Shut up hyung, or I’ll start quoting cheesy confession scenes to you while we fuck.” Jeongguk huffs, biting teasingly at Yoongi’s bottom lip, pulling at it with his teeth. He places his hands on Yoongi’s hips and pushes Yoongi’s entire weight upwards and into his own, hips clashing together with purpose.

“Fuck-“ Yoongi groans, pushes Jeongguk’s hands from his hips to his ass, the younger pushing him up just in sync with his own thrusts down. “Shit, don’t you think it’s weird to fuck in here?”

“Are you serious?” Jeongguk breathes out a laugh, steals a long kiss. “The amount of time pubescent me spent thinking about getting you naked on this bed is atrocious.”

“Wait what,” Yoongi looks at Jeongguk’s nonchalant expression. “That’s new.”

Jeongguk barks out a laugh, pushes his hips down harder, making the both of them groan. “Granted, it usually involved you on top, but, semantics.”

“You wanted me to fuck you? Jesus, Jeongguk, I saw you as a soft boy, turns out you’ve been after my body this entire time?”

“You say that like I don’t want it nowadays, too.” He takes the skin of Yoongi’s collarbones into his teeth before sucking, leaving pretty marks. “You just happen to adore bottoming for me, and I’m a generous guy, you see.”

“Ah, lusting after your hyung all this time, I feel lied to,” Yoongi chuckles, pulling at Jeongguk’s hair.

“The tragic part is that I wasn’t aware. Daydreamed about running my hands on your bare chest every time you changed in front of me, and didn’t realize it. The first time I drank with you- I had this compulsive thought to just taste whiskey off your lips instead. That’s totally-“ Jeongguk pushes his hips down, “best friend thoughts.”

“Totally,” Yoongi replies smugly, grinding up to meet his hips. “Fuck, take off your clothes already, you tease.”

Jeongguk laughs. “Want it that bad?”

“As if you aren’t just as hard, you asshole.”

With a laugh, Jeongguk stands back and works his pants off quickly, Yoongi taking his own boxers and shirt off just as impatiently.

Jeongguk makes sure the door is locked, just out of habit, even though the house is empty as Yoongi’s mother went to shop for a present for his hyung’s little girl. He comes back to the bed to his boyfriend just as naked as he is, already with his knees spread and ready. Jeongguk shakes his head with a grin.

“So fucking impatient. Should I take my time, hyung?” He crawls over to sit in front of his hyung’s ass, tracing the skin with a smug smile.

“I’ll murder you in your sleep, I swear I will.”

Jeongguk grins, smacking his ass lightly before rubbing slowly around his rim with his index finger, just to get his attention. “You sure you wanna threaten me, Yoongi-hyung? You should know by now I’m a fucking menace.”

“You really are, you are. God, please just- lube’s in the second drawer, hurry up already.”

“Hyung, you really should learn some patience,” Jeongguk puts on a pseudo worried expression as he moves to get the bottle. “I’m very close to this psychology major who once quoted his textbook at me saying impatience stems from avoidance of the present.”

“Jeongguk, I’m too hard to listen to shade being thrown at me, get your ass over here.”

Jeongguk hums, taking his time. He smears lube into his fingers, spreading it evenly, schooling his expression into an empathetic frown. “I know, it’s extremely hard not having my cock inside of you, hyung. I bet that’s so difficult. How does that make you feel?”

“Fuck you,” Yoongi groans. “Fuck you, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk barks out a laugh, thoroughly amused, grinning as he slowly slips one slick knuckle into his hyung’s waiting ass, then another, until he’s one finger deep and Yoongi’s letting out a relieved sigh.

“How did we start off with you moaning you wanna make out with me for the rest of your life and get to you roasting me?” Yoongi huffs, adjusting his hips against Jeongguk’s finger as the younger pushes it in. “You have a strange idea of dirty talk, Gguk-ah.”

Jeongguk pecks Yoongi’s knee with a smile, wiggling his finger inside of him, aligning another one against his rim. “Your dick is hard, so I think I’m doing a pretty good job.”

“Sadly there's barely anything you’re not good at,” Yoongi tries to scoff, but gets distracted at another slicked finger filling him up, so it’s lacking all the bite to it.

“Mm, yeah, keep telling me how good I am, Yoongi-hyung, I might just cum before I get to fuck you,” he scrunches his nose with a smile, stretching the other man open, nosing affectionately at his knee perched up in front of him.

“You really do suck at this dirty talk thing, huh?” Yoongi holds a small gasp at Jeongguk rubbing that one soft spot inside of him just to spite him and get his body jerking up. “Fuck- another one, again, please,”

“Don’t get my competitive ass into the picture, hyung, or you’re gonna be the one cuming before I even get inside.” Jeongguk gives a small slap to the other man’s ass with an amused smirk, before pulling two fingers out and inserting three as requested, easing the tense muscles to accommodate the intrusion.

“T-that sounds a little more like it. Baby steps, huh, Gguk?” Yoongi chuckles, a little breathless by now, but not enough to stop teasing the other man. He knows he’s basically asked for it when the younger’s three fingers ram into his sweet spot, dragging around it repeatedly and teasing circles while he watches milky thighs clench and jerk involuntarily. Yoongi has his head thrown back with whiny moans, his thought process immediately cut off to allow space for his nerve endings to fire off, jerk away but demand more.

“You think you’re funny now, but in a few minutes you’re not gonna be able to even talk properly, let alone try to be a smart-ass.” Jeongguk retaliates, teeth around his lip ring in his signature cocky smile, staring Yoongi down like he’s begging rather than talking back, like he’s more than a little cute for trying to get a reaction while he already looks so ruined by a couple of his fingers. It’s not Jeongguk’s fault he knows his body from the inside out, is it?

“You think? Not too sure about that.” Yoongi hums, as if in thought. Not being able to keep the facade as Jeongguk’s fingers rub him where he likes it, fuck into him faster the way he knows Yoongi is weak for, just to shut him up with a surprised whimper, just to remind him that he can. Yoongi pushes his hips lower, wanting to get filled a little deeper, a little more needy now that he knows he’s so close to getting absolutely railed properly- because fuck does Jeongguk know how to make him lose it, has mastered getting him off like it’s his goddamn job.

Jeongguk chuckles to himself and pulls out his fingers at once, making the older man whine at the loss and lift his head to look back at him. He angles his head, a taunting smile on his lips, big innocent eyes going wide to contradict his intentions. “Really wanna make you beg, hyungie, but you’re probably gonna stop being a smart-ass sooner if I fuck you now, right?”

“Please, Gguk-ah-“ And with an expectant gasp from Yoongi, Jeongguk spreads lube on the length of his cock before lining it with Yoongi’s rim and slowly pushing through the tight ring of muscle, feeling it swallowing him in, just as needy for him.

“Fuck- fuck,” the younger groans as he bottoms out, hips pressed tight to the ass spread underneath him. His hands dig into pale hips at the pressure, watching the blond strands covering his hyung’s forehead and the roundness of his plump gaping lips as he exhales slowly. “Okay hyung? Okay?”

He holds his weight with his forearms on the mattress, peppers kisses into Yoongi’s clavicles as he waits for the green light, pressing against his lips with his own, goading gasps and whimpers to come through, the clench of muscles in his hyung’s plush thighs slowly dissipating, slowly releasing tension.

“Yeah, yeah, just start slow,” Yoongi breathes out against his lips, hands finding themselves once again in the younger’s hair, already a little damp with sweat and darkened in his fingers’ tight grasp.

“Ah, shit, I take everything I said back, this is what I wanna do for the rest of my life,” Jeongguk groans into Yoongi’s neck as he rolls his hips in slow circles, making the man underneath him gasp.

“I won’t- won’t object,” Yoongi replies breathlessly, eyes glazed over and distracted by the rhythm of Jeongguk’s hips, strong and slow when they push and pull, well-practiced precision where they angle against him. By the strong arms pushing his knees back, the plush lips kissing around his collarbones, teeth dragging against pale skin.

“You’d beg,” Jeongguk’s face twists in a mix of concentration and pleasure, relentless in the way he changes his pacing, not giving the blond man underneath him a moment of rest, knows exactly where to drag and where to press to make him fall apart. “Like you did just now.”

“Not my fault you’re- ah- r-ridiculously good at this-“ Yoongi’s cut off with a groan at Jeongguk pulling out to the tip before bottoming out again. “The best I ever fucking had.”

“Shit, hyung- is it okay to go faster now?” Jeongguk gasps, always reacting well to Yoongi praising him, the sweetened words always tipping him off his balance, heading straight to his cock. When Yoongi nods his approval, Jeongguk lets go. “Shit, shit- I’m the best you’ve ever had, hyung? Better than that asshole Minhyuk you fucked with back then, on this fucking bed?”

“Yes- yes- god, how do you remember that stuff-“

“I hated his fucking guts for putting his hands on you,” Jeongguk grunts against his neck, “but he’ll never fucking amount. I give it to you ten times better, don’t I, hyung? Don’t I take you so well?”

“Ah, Fuck! Jeongguk-“ Yoongi moans at the pace quickening with Jeongguk’s words, the urgency in his words transmitting to the rest of him. “It’s been years, it wasn’t his faul- fuck!”

“I wanted you years before he did.” The pace of Jeongguk’s hips falters, making Yoongi whimper. “You’re mine, he had no right.”

The possessive words catch Yoongi off guard, especially as they’re discussing his boyfriend at 17. He struggles to give a proper reply as Jeongguk hits that spot he likes so much, reaching for it again and again and again- “I wasn’t- I am now but I wasn’t- Gguk-“

“You’re mine, you were always mine, fuck, fuck-“

“Jeongguk, please- ah! I’m-“ Yoongi’s cock is dripping precum by then, thighs sore where they’re pushed so close to his stomach, and just then Jeongguk decides to change his position against him, chooses to grab his left knee and throw it up against his shoulder, new angle giving space to fuck even deeper into him, knowing Yoongi has been aching for this, waiting, needing him. Just a little more, a little more and he’s gone.

“Know your body so fucking well,” Jeongguk rasps against his ear. “Take you so well, love you so fucking much,”

Yoongi gasps, not quite in control of his body, back arching as pleasure builds up in the pit of his stomach- luckily held in place by the younger’s weight. “J-Jeongguk- don’t stop, don’t-“

“Tell me how good I’m doing, hyung- wanna hear it, please-“

“You feel so good, G-Gguk- I can barely think- fuck- you fill me up so fucking good- know how to touch me, never been fucked like this, never-“

“Shit, hyung, hyung-“ and Jeongguk’s pace turns erratic as he rams his hips into the other man, hand reaching between their bodies to wrap around Yoongi’s cock. “I’m close- keep- keep talking- oh fuck-“

Yoongi lets out an overwhelmed whine at the added friction, knows he’s not gonna last like this- “so pretty, Gguk, so good to me, I’m so lucky- so- ah! Need you so bad, love you so much- Fuck that feels so good, Gguk, right there- fuck fuck fuck-“

The younger obliges, abusing the spot Yoongi likes until the older man reaches his limit and with a throaty groan turns his stomach and Jeongguk’s fist milking him dry into a sticky mess. Yoongi tightens around Jeongguk with the force of his orgasm, body convulsing as he rides it out, tipping the younger over the edge in a few more hard thrusts.

Jeongguk keeps holding himself up as he pants on top of the older man, the two of them sweaty and breathless, pulling out and coming down from it. It takes a few moments of Yoongi carding his hands through Jeongguk’s hair as he waits for him to gather himself back together, the sounds of their breathing filling up the quiet around the room.

“The only way to get you quiet is to give you an orgasm,” Yoongi breathes out a laugh against his ear, wrapping his free hand around the younger’s waist and pulling him down into him, to rest his weight on his chest.

“Sorry,” Jeongguk breathes out into his neck, wrapping an arm under his waist, hugging him close. “Will never stop being overwhelming.”

“It’s perfectly fine, I was joking. You’re very sweet, Gguk-ah.” Yoongi smiles, kissing the younger’s head between ragged breaths.

Yoongi watches Jeongguk’s shoulders tighten. “I’m sorry for bringing Minhyuk-ssi up. I don’t know why I did that… want you only for myself, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckles, ruffling chestnut locks under his fingers. “It’s okay. Being a little jealous is okay. I knew you hated him- but it’s in the past, yeah? I’m all yours now.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk nods, placing a chaste kiss on Yoongi’s neck. “He’s irrelevant. You’re mine now and I treat you like you deserve.”

With a soft hum, Yoongi smiles. “You do, Gguk. Guess I’m also a bit spoiled, huh?”

“Mm, I like hearing that.” The younger man mumbles into plush, slightly sweaty skin underneath him. “Should clean us up, then.”

With great sacrifice of body-warmth and comfort, he pulls himself off the blond and brings some wet towels from the bathroom. He cleans himself up hastily on his way to the bed but takes his time with Yoongi, who stares at him with a soft smile and fondness in his eyes.

Jeongguk looks up every couple of seconds, just to see the same expression and feel the same tingling sensation in his heart.

“I love you, hyung,” he whispers to him when he’s done with his task, staring from where he sits on the foot of the bed next to Yoongi’s midsection.

“I do too, Gguk. Come here,” he pats the empty space on the bed.

Jeongguk crawls over, settling against Yoongi’s side, lips against his neck, slow, purposeful pecks spread all over the expanse of it. “Love you, love you so much, so, so much, Yoongi-hyung. Love you so fucking much.”

Yoongi holds his head to his neck gently, enjoying the care and affection, the sincerity in the younger’s voice, the vulnerability.

“Love you just as much, pretty.” Yoongi smiles, nose scrunching up. “Even when you roast me as foreplay.”

Jeongguk laughs softly against his neck, turning his face to look at Yoongi’s chest, the expanse of his bare abdomen, his own hands beginning to trail shapes and lines across the flushed skin. He stares at the way his palm looks flattened out against the much paler, much softer stomach. A nice contrast, so Yoongi, so them.

Jeongguk turns his head to the side again to face the other man, nosing at the bare skin along the way, raising a hand to tilt Yoongi’s chin down for their open mouths to meet.

They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss, until Jeongguk’s lip ring isn’t cold against their lips anymore, until they’re all out of air again, panting all over again, flushed and heady and pressed together, until you can’t really tell where one mouth starts and where the other ends. When they do separate, it’s barely an inch, barely enough space to be considered out of contact, still breathing air straight out of each other’s lungs, eyes still closed, hearts still beating from each other's chests.

“I’d die before leaving you again,” Jeongguk breathes out, a frown in the way his eyes are closed shut, lips brushing Yoongi’s with every syllable.

Yoongi’s lip quirks up on one side as he presses a soft kiss against his favorite plush lips, right in front of him.

“Love, I’m not scared anymore.”