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thepencilnerd · 5 years

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Melophile | Part II

– please read part 1 if you haven’t – (it can be found on my masterlist ^^ )

melo·phile- noun; a person with great love and affluent passion for music

➵ A piano major and a composition major collaborating for a final semester project. It seemed straightforward, right? But what if you were forced to pair up with the school’s most problematic genius, Min Yoongi? Add to that the fact that he absolutely hated your guts and you had the perfect recipe for disaster. How can someone you’ve never even met before despise you like a sworn enemy? Getting to know each other was hard enough, but what happens when the most beautiful, painful, and darkest secrets force the two of you to expose the thing you each guarded the most—your own emotions?

➵ pairing: min yoongi x reader

➵ genre: AU! enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, slow-ish burn

➵ word count: 27k (sorry mobile readers)

➵ warnings: swearing, too much fluff, angst, discussions of depression, oral sex (m&f receiving), marking, biting, hair pulling, cumplay/eating, light impreg kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), i’m still screaming while writing these warnings bc i thought it’d pretty tame this chapter i was wrong

a/n: my longest work to date :’) i hope you all enjoyed and thank you so much for staying with me on this emotional rollercoaster <3

Previously on part one of Melophile...

“Stop calling me that.” Each word came out through pursed lips and clamped teeth. Leaning into you so that he was directly in your line of vision, his lip curled into a smirk and his eyes flaunted a veil of malicious intent.

“Make me,” he snarled. Never in your life had two words made you more furious than at that exact moment.

“Fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat out, face just centimeters away from his. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, I really am, okay? But you don’t know a single goddamn thing about me, so stop acting like you’re the only one who’s been hurt in the past.”

Moving closer to you in response, you felt his hot breath fan over your lips, making you lean back instinctively.

“I’m not hurt,” he pointed out with venom dripping from his voice. Leaning towards the shell of your ear, his exhaling breath tickled your neck.

“I’m broken, _____…” Yoongi growled.

“Fucking hell...” you muttered silently while pinching the bridge of your nose. Contemplating your reason for existence, you felt an unpleasant stickiness rub the inside of your thighs but ignored it as you found yourself studying the face of the sleeping figure beside you—what a great distraction to start off the day.

Yoongi’s sleeping face was the epitome of serenity. Lying on his side, his face pressed against the pillow like a marshmallow in a way that made his cheek and lips squish to the side lazily. His eyes were shut and his mouth was open the slightest bit, a faint snore emitting from his throat each time his chest rose and fell.

A grin sneakily crept onto your face when you took the time to admire how peaceful he looked. It was probably the first time you’d ever seen him so—exposed. Realizing the mistake of your words, your timing couldn’t have been worse when Yoongi’s eyelids fluttered open.

The corners of his eyes formed into half-moons as he crinkled his nose. Stretching over your body with his free arm, you shuffled away from his reach and rolled off the bed.

You let out a strangled yelp as your body tumbled onto the floor. As if you didn’t have enough bruises from last night already...

Hurrying to peek over the edge of the bed, Yoongi’s face bore a bemused look and you’d bet a million dollars he was about three seconds away from—

“Are you okay?” he chuckled, bursting into a fit of raspy laughter with a lazy smile.

His upbeat aura made you analyze his face for any indication that he was hungover or on possibly on something, but all you saw was a genuinely cheery boy.

“Y–Yeah...” you stuttered. “I’m good. Fine. I’m fine.”

Softening his gaze, he sighed and rolled back into bed, staring at the ceiling. What the hell were you supposed to do now? Struggling to find a way to break the ice, you only realized then now dry and scratchy your throat felt.

Clearing your throat, you scratched your head at your surroundings. “Is this your room?” Mumbling something that resembled an ‘mhmph,’ you took his half-ass mumble as a yes.

“How did we, um...” you hiccuped, nerves beginning to take over. You resorted to pointing to random points around the room sheepishly.

Hearing the rustling of sheets, you met his half-lidded gaze. He wasn’t wearing a top, yet you were the one who felt self-conscious and covered your chest with your arms—and you were actually wearing a shirt.

Sniffling slightly, he rested the side of his face on his arm lazily. “I piggybacked you here after you knocked out like a light,” he chuckled to himself, reliving the moment briefly. “Drooled all over my shoulder and everything.”

“I do not drool!” you exclaimed, wiping your mouth subconsciously while blushing furiously at his accusation.

“I beg to differ,” he smiled, flashing a gummy smile that made you hiccup. The conversation was becoming much too casual for your comfort, and you quickly got up on your feet to try and find your clothes. You needed to get out of here. You needed to get out of here now.

Unfortunately, your body betrayed you when your legs trembled and gave under you. Your muscles felt like jelly and you couldn’t even make an attempt at getting up the second time, so you slid down back into a cross-legged position on the floor as smoothly as you could, trying not to look as embarrassed or defeated as you felt. Yoongi hid his snort of amusement with a cough.

“Where are my clothes?” you questioned, suddenly aware that you were dressed in black boxer shorts and a shirt too large to be your size. Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the realization.

Hands shooting up to cover your chest instinctively, you stared at Yoongi like a deer in headlights. “You undressed me?!” you gawked.

Propping his elbow up, he rested his cheek on his hand as he chuckled. “Technically I redressed you after the undressing part, so it counts as a double negative,” he corrected. Smug bastard...

Wincing at the stretch you felt in your thighs from just sitting in a cross-legged position, you stood up again only to stumble again like a tower made of jello cubes. Yoongi sat up immediately, grabbing your arm to help you stay upright, but you tore yourself away from Yoongi’s warm hands. The soothing sensation of his touch was making you feel too comfortable for your own liking.

Clothes. Door. Exit. Now. Four words you never expected to dictate your every move thereon afterward.

He looked at you with a puzzled expression, taken aback by your irrational behavior. Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but as soon as you spotted your pile of clothes in the corner of the room, you scurried across to pick them up.

Yanking down the boxers you were wearing and pulling off his shirt, the smell of his cologne sunk through the fabric and made your heartbeat jump for a moment. Flashbacks of last night snapped like a series of camera shutters in your mind; his scent rubbing onto your skin, the texture of his hair between your fingers, the warmth of his lips against your neck, the feeling of his tongue—

“Pull yourself together,” you screamed in your head. Shaking your head to snap yourself out of your sinful thoughts, you jumped up and down into your jeans and threw on your hoodie in record time before he could make a remark about your nude state.

Picking up your phone from his nightstand and stepping—more like tripping—into your shoes, you turned around and closed your eyes, crinkling your nose to focus and think about whether you needed to gather anything else. Once confirming that you didn’t bring anything other than your phone, you rushed out the door and left Yoongi with his mouth hung open.

“Well shit...” he thought.

It had been a full week since the “incident,” as you had labeled it, and you were cooped up in your dorm like a prisoner, only sneaking out to get snacks and coffee from the corner store across the street. The stupid week-long break could not come any sooner, could it?

Words splattered like stray drops of paint across the walls of your mind as panic occupied every waking thought since that night.

He knew your secret and you knew his.

You didn’t know why fear was growing on you like a parasite. It’s not like he was going to tell Powell. Even if he did, you’d probably just have to go to a few physical therapy lessons and get prescribed some medication to manage the pain.

“He’ll restrict your physical participation hours and make you play less...” your subconscious suspected. There it was—that was your greatest fear. Crawling bugs, skyscraper-tall heights, deep dark oceans, and even being trapped in a burning building didn’t compare to the complete and utter dread you would feel if you had lost music. Just thinking about it was enough to make you bite your nails.

As your silent nights of waking up, showering, eating a few bites of granola bars, and wallowing in your bed until you fell asleep became repetitive, Yoongi was as loud and active as he had ever been—in the form of texts, that is.

Saturday

Min Salty: You good? [1:41 p.m.]

Sunday

Min Salty: Earth to _____ ? [ 8:19 a.m.]

Min Salty: Did you get sick? [11:43 a.m.]

Monday

Min Salty: Are you okay? [4:50 p.m.]

Min Salty: Call me [5:01 p.m.]

Tuesday

Min Salty: _____ , talk to me [12:12 a.m.]

Wednesday

Min Salty: At least let me know that you’re alive [10:08 a.m.]

Yesterday

Min Salty: I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you need [9:04 p.m.]

Re-reading each text was like stabbing yourself with a rusted dagger over and over again as the realization of what you had done loomed over you like a storm cloud. Lying in your bed, you buried your face in the pillow and screamed, thankful that everyone down your dorm block was away for a few more days. It killed you even more inside when you read over the text you had sent five minutes ago.

Today

Min Salty: Practice room 2B at 3? [2:34 p.m.]

You: sure [2:41 p.m.]

Thrashing your arms and legs wildly in an attempt to relieve you of your impulsive and rash decision, you huffed one more time before getting out of bed and changing into a pair of jeans. Rubbing your eyes and triple-checking whether you had just done what you think you had done, you wailed overdramatically, praying that this was all just one big nightmare.

What the hell were you thinking?

Blowing your wild baby hairs away from your face, you ignored the state of the bird’s nest of a messy bun that laid atop your head and didn’t bother changing out of your hoodie. You were way too used to wearing those since you started college. Packing your dorm keys and notebook into your backpack, you slung it over your shoulder half-heartedly and prepared for the storm that lied ahead.

The entire walk across the campus was filled with dread and you didn’t bother cleaning up your disheveled state when you finally knocked on the door. When it swung open, you met his gaze for the first time in what felt like weeks.

Yoongi was sitting on the piano bench with a cup-holder filled with two hot drinks and a paper bag settled on the guest table. He too was flaunting just as plain of an outfit as your black joggers and school logo-printed hoodie.

With grey sweatpants, matching sweater, and grass-stained sneakers, you both stared at each other with awe at your equal ability to feel so comfortable in your less than dress code friendly attire. You didn’t even notice until your eyes landed on his socks that they were different colors, to which you clamped your hand over your mouth and disguised your snort with a brash cough.

“Don’t you look gorgeous?” he scoffed, admiring your equally casual half-strewn choice of an outfit. Pulling out two chairs from the side of the room and placing them next to the table, you opened your mouth to protest, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the room.

Starting with the coffee, he handed you the paper cup, tapping under your chin playfully because he found your dazed face amusing. Angling your head down low, you felt a pang of regret. He shouldn’t be this happy...

He tore the bag open to reveal an array of croissants, donuts, and pastries from the café across the street. You’d gone there so many times in the last couple of years, you would be a moron if you hadn’t memorized the menu by now.

“Why did you—” you sputtered, pointing to the golden loaves of steaming hot fluffiness that made your mouth water. Sitting down, he patted the chair next to him, welcoming you to sit and make yourself comfortable.

“Food first then talk,” he halted. “You look like you haven’t eaten anything other than instant noodles and mix coffee in weeks—and I know better than anyone what that looks like...”

Scowling at his double-edged insult and scold, you sat moved the chair to be across from him rather than beside and sat down slowly like a cat who was exploring their new home.

Were you dreaming? Why was he being so soft? Was he on something? Perhaps, plotting his revenge? Or worse, your murder?

Sensing your hesitant state, Yoongi shoved a mini-donut into your agape mouth. “I didn’t poison anything, you fusspot.” He continued eating his food in silence as if nothing were wrong in the world. Maybe this would be an opportunity for you to get some actual food into your system and not be forced to talk.

And who were you to turn down lunch?

Chewing the mouthful of glazed donut you'd been fed, you chewed slowly and closed your eyes to hold back the moan that nearly came out. Starchy bread and sugary fruit preserves had never tasted so good.

A few minutes passed in total silence. The only sounds came from the crinkling of papers as Yoongi pulled out more napkins and the gulps that came from the two of you idly sipping your drinks. Yoongi had finished eating, but you were purposely taking your sweet time by chewing slower than a turtle and being overly cautious with your now-lukewarm coffee.

Leaning back onto the wall, Yoongi looked up at your room, breaking the silence first. “You’re in a single-dorm?”

Pausing in the middle of chewing, you swallowed and nodded, reaching over for your drink again.

“By request?”

Another nod.

“Does it get boring?” he continued, clearly seeing that he was getting under your skin with each question.

God, why did he have to talk so much?

You shook your head a little too vigorously as you took the last bite of your donut before setting it down and then taking a few reasonably long gulps of your coffee, finishing that as well.

“Why’d you call?” you finally asked.

Chuckling at how he had broken through your shell with the peace offering of food and coffee no one could resist, he fumbled with the empty cup in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on you,” he replied simply. “Plus, I was bored out of my mind and you’re the only other person on campus so I figured it’d be smart to kill some time with practice.”

You shifted in your seated position as the comment took you by surprise. “You knew I was fine,” you mumbled, voice coming just short of a shy child’s whisper.

“I actually,” he cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about last week.”

“It was a mistake.” That was all it was; a mistake.

Yoongi’s eyes widened as his eyebrows lifted up, his expression morphing into one of shock at your unexpected answer. “No, I—”

Shaking your head, you gnawed on the inside of your cheek. The sooner you got this cleaned up the easier it’d be on both of you. “We made a mistake and we need to move past it. It wasn’t responsible for us and—”

“Bullshit.” The word came out in the familiar tone that he used with you that night; anger and rage directing itself into the fury of one single word.

“What?” you scoffed, wide awake now more than ever. You couldn’t tell whether it was because you were shocked at his view on the situation or whether it was the caffeine kicking in and doing its magic.

Stretching his neck to one side and exhaling through his nose, he couldn’t make direct eye contact with you and opted to stare at your hands wrapped around your cup. “It wasn’t a– you didn’t do anything wrong,” he altered his sentence. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of us did anything wrong because you and I—” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he began to grow annoyed at himself.

Why was he stumbling over his words so bad?

“Yoongi,” you said firmly. It was your turn to take hold of the conversation. “Can we just pretend like none of this happened and go back to being—” Pausing to bury your face into your hands, you shrugged. “Whatever we were before.”

“You really don’t want to talk about it?” he asked bluntly.

You refused to even give yourself a second to process the question before you responded with a firm no. His tongue prodded the inside of his cheek for a moment before he got up. “Should we work on the piece then?”

For some reason, regret ate at you like a power-hungry monster that would never be satiated.

“Yeah,” you responded robotically, sitting yourself down on the cold leather chair. “Let’s practice.”

Never in your life had those words tasted so bitter in your mouth.

You wanted to say that moving past mortifyingly embarrassing moments in your life was a process in and of itself. You even dared to say that admitting them was the hardest part but of course, to each their own.

It had been two weeks since you last spoke to Yoongi and timed seemed to move slower than ever. Whenever you found yourself pondering over the option of texting him, your pride got the best of you.

Between passing periods and free time after school, you had yet to formally speak with him last week. You cringed internally as flashbacks of the week prior set off like landmines in your head.

Scurrying down the hallways like an undercover rat, you went as far as wearing sunglasses along with your hood to try and disguise yourself. Surely, Yoongi wouldn’t recognize you in this state, right? You were even wearing a colored hoodie, for God’s sake—completely unheard of for someone of your tastes. Black and grey hoodies were your wardrobes’ partners in crime.

You earned a couple stares from the crowds of people as you kept your back hunched and weaved through them, but it definitely won over having to run into Yoongi. Or even worse, actually having to talk to him. Chills ran down your spine. You’d have to face him one day, but this was the one things you could afford to procrastinate just a little bit.

Then came the day when he too learned about your schedule after countless trials of “accompanying” you to your classes—while hiding from your line of sight.

“_____!” he shouted through the bustling crowd, waving his arm in the hopes that you’d see him, but to aid him in the off chance that you wouldn’t run away from him this time. Somehow, by the laws of the universe and its devious ways, he managed to catch up to you and tug at your sleeve.

Turning around after muttering a wave of silent swears to yourself, you turned around like a character who was moments away from being murdered by the serial killer. Spoiler alert: this scene actually had a happy ending.

“I’m late for a class!” you chuckled wryly, cringing at your own forced and awkward tone. “Catch you later!” Waving goodbye, you sped off as quickly as your legs could carry you to your lecture.

“Catch you later?” Did you jump out of a 70′s sitcom or something? Your pessimist mocked you, poking fun at your awful crack at an excuse.

There was bound to be someone else who arrived at the lecture 20 minutes early, right?

Lounging in the tightly nestled corner of the café, you were in the middle of shuffling through the notes from class when a certain someone decided to grace you with the gift of a heart attack.

“Jesus freaking Christ!” Your notes nearly flew into the air as you jumped like an animated cat. Turning around to face the person behind you who had made the ballsy choice to sneak up on you and poke your shoulder, Yoongi’s face greeted you with a cheeky grin.

“Busy?” he asked nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just given you the fright of your life. Looking at him with your eyes open to the size of saucers, you wet your lips and gulped, trying to think of a way to dig out of yet, another hole you had buried yourself in.

Pointing behind you with your finger to distract him, you raised your shoulders and jutted your neck forward, contorting into an uncomfortable pose that screamed awkwardness. “Text me later!” you spit out, crinkling your nose with a forced chuckle.

“But—” Yoongi’s sputtering faded into silence as you dashed out of there quicker than a farm dog that was herding a flock of geese.

Each time you replayed the self-deprecating memories like a slideshow in your head, it was comparable to sticking your hand into ice cold water you’d scooped up from Antarctica. “Dammit.” Your voice came out hushed but dangerously close to being an audible growl and your fist slammed onto the wooden table.

Studying in the library was a bad choice. Odd stares and hushed whispers scattered across the room like a swarm of bees and caused the people around you to shift in their seats. Murming a silent apology at your sudden outburst, you packed your things and tried to leave as quietly as possible.

As you felt the satisfying crunch of leaves under your feet with each step, your eyes drifted off into nowhere while your mind was a million miles away. You didn’t know why you felt so strange. It was as if everyone saw the world through black or white lenses and yet, you were the only one who hallucinated color in between the lines.

Huddling your arms closer to your body, a cold gust of wind blew across your face, making you shiver and prickle with goosebumps. A dull, aching sensation made its way across the tops of your hands as your muscles reacted to the temperature difference, forcing you to tuck them under your armpits. Fashionable isn’t it? The weather of the autumn and winter months always bid the worst for your hands, and yet, your forgetful self always let the errand of buying a pair of stupid mittens slip your mind.

It had also been a week since you’d gone anywhere near a piano and it stuck like a wine stain on white linen. You were jittery and anxious like a stranded survivor balancing on on the tip of an iceberg. Since you had a natural inclination to let out your emotions through playing, your cognitive acuity also felt at an all-time low. The rare possibility of running into your professor while you were in this state was soul-crushing, and the off-chance that he might see your restricted playing ability was even more so debilitating.

Even though you hated to admit it, the best thing you could probably do for your hands was to go and play, even if it were for a few minutes. The doctor—even though it was his sincere recommendation for you to stop playing altogether and consider taking up stress ball yoga instead—told you that light activity was actually beneficial in regulating your chronic pain.

The occasional Advil helped as well, but you’d been popping the tryhard M&M’s like candy on a regular basis since sophomore year, so your built-up tolerance to the orange-coated tablets rendered them useless.

Debating between taking a hot shower back at the comfort of your room and going to practice for an hour (or three), you settled on the latter. You could use the extra hours anyway—you knew better than anyone how much you needed them.

You took your usual shortcut around the quad and turned at the corner of the brick building you’d grown too acquainted with throughout the years. Stepping into the corridors, warm air welcomed you like an old friend as the buzz and whirring of the heater indicated that it was on full blast. Thank God.

Treading down the length of the hallway with tentative steps, you were surprised to see that there were quite a few people occupying the studios. You recognized a few classmates through the glass panes of the doors.

Judging by the pointless blabbering, incessant arguing, harsh thumping of keys, and scattered frustrated groans, the muted sounds that were still clearly audible through the soundproof rooms made you chuckle. Something told you that these were the master procrastinators who didn’t decide to start on the project until now...

When you reached the end of the hall, you were relieved to find an empty room. Finally. Sighing in relief, you had never found the flick of a light switch and whoosh of a closing door more satisfying than in that moment.

Sprawling your things out haphazardly onto the floor, the overly-stiff lid of the piano opening made you scrunch up your face. If this piano was the only one out of tune in the building, you were going to—

You didn’t even finish the thought before your finger pressed on a key as if it had a mind of its own. “Thank the tuning gods,” you sighed, bringing your hand to your chest and exhaling out the air you’d held in your lungs. Sure, it was one of the older models the school’s inventory had to offer, but it was still miraculously in tune.

If anything, you let out a ‘hm’ of intrigue as you sat down. You’d never played in this particular studio or on this piano before, but the different weight of the keys and peculiar texture of sound that emanated from them piqued your interest.

Playing on a different piano than your usual model could best be described as a painter who had to paint with a completely different base canvas, colors of paint, and a set of brushes. Whereas a painter was familiar with his or her usual painting medium and more than comfortable with the feel of their brushes, the process of adapting to a new set of materials altogether was neither difficult nor easy, because they didn’t know what they were dealing with yet.

It was just different.

Pianos were almost grouped in the same theory, except rather than produce a visual piece with brushes and paint, you had to paint a picture with sound; an odd medium considering the less physically pliable nature of it.

This piano in particular, for example, required more weight on certain keys to produce an equal amount of sound as the others. The texture of the sound was also a different quality, this being more rustic and ragtime sounding than the new models lined up in the front entrance studios. Those sounded much more acoustic, crisper, and sharper, fitting a more classical and structured repertoire.

Starting easy with a few scales and basic pieces you learned when you were younger, the aching in your hands still lingered, but the pain grew more than bearable since your hands had warmed up.

What were you going to practice today? Chopin? Beethoven? Lizst? Forming your mouth into an ‘o’ shape at the last name, you quirked your lip into a meek grin. When was the last time you played one of that psycho’s pieces?

Settling on Liebestraum No. 3, you took a moment to try and remember the piece by heart. Closing your eyes to concentrate on picturing and mapping out the piece in your head, you breathed deeply and grazed your fingertips across the keys.

The collection of three pieces was also known as Dreams of Love and the third piece’s gentle and melodic hymn was just that. The beginning of the piece was soft like a lullaby, enveloping the listener into a space of warmth and tenderness; like the sparks of a newly blossoming and dreamlike relationship. Hypnotizing and consuming, the simple unfolding melody drew you in completely.

The second cadenza then transitioned into the harsh reality of love, becoming more weighted and melancholic as the tempo not only sped up and became more frantic, but the tones and harmonics also developed into more complex ones. Desperate, heartbreaking, and filled with the raw reality that love had the ability to take just as much as it had to give, your hands no longer dictated how well you played at that moment; your humanity did.

The final cadenza was the one that shredded your heartstrings. After the highs and lows of falling in and out of love, the dynamic returned to its former soft and lulling roots, reminding you that the everlasting form of love and eternal happiness was truly unattainable, and only lurked in the distant world that was your dreams.

The words that constantly lurked in your head sent a pang of guilt into your chest, erupting and manifesting itself physically into the delicate and drawn out keys of the pieces final notes. Would you ever be happy?

Coming down from the euphoria that engulfed every nerve in your body, tears brimmed your eyes. Scoffing at yourself, you sniffled, dabbing away the wetness that dampened your cheeks as self-pitying chuckles left your mouth. This was a definitely a first.

The sudden sense that someone was watching you made you grow suspicious. Snapping your head around to the door, your body went cold as a figure was visible through the glass pane of the door.

Yoongi.

You remained frozen in place, unable to move from the wave of anxiety that swallowed you whole. Your throat was dry and your tongue felt like it was cemented to the roof of your mouth. Turning back around to face the piano, you tried to wipe the remaining tears as discreetly as you could, but you realized that your puffy eyes and red nose betrayed you.

Facing back to the door, you pressed your lips into a thin line and hoped that it would mask any indication that you had just bawled over a stupid piece. God, you felt so pathetic...

Through the reflective pane, you tried to make out his expression but felt your heart hiccup when you zoned in on his face. He sniffled once before looking down at his feet, then back up at you, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his glassy eyes.

Was he—crying?

Blinking hard through your still-puffy and damp eyes, you squinted to try and get a clearer view of him through the glass, but in the blink of an eye and almost as soon as he had appeared, he was gone; vanishing like a figment of your imagination in a dream you had rudely woken up from.

Your feet felt like they were cement blocks weighing down on the pedals. Unable to come to your senses enough to stand up and stop him you could only stare blankly at the door as the illusion of his echoing footsteps deadened into silence.

Today

You: 4A in 20 minutes? [5:22 p.m.]

Min Salty: sure [5:26 p.m.]

Trying to push past and cross the awkward tightrope of a situation that you had created, you felt your breath hitch in your throat and form a hiccup instead. You weren’t sure what surprised you more, the fact that he had replied quicker than you anticipated or the actuality that he had replied to you at all.

Biting your cuticles raw, your nerves were stinging you like a swarm of angry bees. You were already in the studio, of course, and had been practicing for an hour or so before the idea popped into your head. After that, the text had been saved as a draft for about ten minutes before you eventually swallowed your ego and placed your finger on the dreaded send icon. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Exactly two-minutes had passed since his response and each tick of the clock was like the ring of a bell, signaling that it was feeding time for the growing monster that was your anxiety.

You hissed through your teeth when you accidentally bit down too hard on your cuticle too hard and made a pool of bright red blood flood the edge of your nail. Simultaneously, the click and turn of the doorknob made you snap your head up and freeze, halting your pacing steps.

Smoothing over the top of his hood, Yoongi fashioned a plain black shirt, tattered burgundy jacket, distressed jeans, and scuffed white sneakers. It didn’t take you a second longer to notice the black dust mask he had over his mouth, either. Whether it had become a habit of yours or a natural inclination to study him from afar, you always found yourself staring for a moment too long before you spoke.

“You’re—” you cleared your throat. “—early.” Glancing at the clock, you made sure that you read it right. “Really early.”

He pulled out a chair and slung his bag onto the floor. “I figured you’d be here already.” His voice sounded rough, but not the abrasive kind of rough—the sick kind. When did he get sick? Did he take any medicine? Why was he here?

“Shut up...” you reminded yourself. “It’s none of your busine—”

“Are you sick?” Repressing your negative subconscious, you cared more about his health, for now, more than your ego could force you not to. He shook his head no rather than give you a formal response, refusing to speak and therefore, confirming your suspicions.

He hadn’t even taken off his mask yet and you were pretty sure it was about 75 degrees outside; more than toasty enough for him to walk around without a mask to keep his mouth warm.

“Yoongi, you should go home and rest,” you sighed. Instant guilt began to gnaw at you.

Another forceful head shake and a few suppressed coughs later, he sat down on the chair and pulled out his notebook. It was bad enough you had your own pride to deal with, and adding Yoongi’s into the mix wasn’t going to lead anywhere. You weren’t putting him through this today.

Taking his notebook away from his lap, you set it on top of his bag and kneeled down, placing your hand on his forehead. As you expected, it was slick with sweat.

“Christ, you’re burning up...” you swore, flipping back and forth between the palm and back of your hand to make sure that he was really that hot. Gently grabbing your wrist, he craned his neck away from your reach and pulled your arm away from his vicinity.

He took his mask off agitatedly at your relentless nagging to try and prove his point. “I’m fine.” His voice was stern but still weak, a clear indication that he was anything but that. Frowning with concern written all over your face, he simply stared vacantly into your eyes while still maintaining his hold around your wrist.

Shaking your head at his hardheaded attitude that mirrored yours, you pried his fingers off of your wrist and pressed the back of your hand to his damp cheek. Yoongi’s eyes went wide as his face instantly heated up and flushed at the contact.

“You’re running at least a 100 right now, Yoongi,” you scolded. “We can practice anytime, but right now, you need to go home and rest.” Your hand was still resting on his cheek while you spoke while he continued looking at anywhere but your eyes.

You pulled your hand away from his cheek and let out a near-inaudible gasp when he clutched your wrist again. Bringing your cool hand back to his face, you swallowed tensely when he slid his grip up to your hand and guided it to the side of his face, cupping his large hand over yours so that it was now cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes tenderly at the coolness of your hand, relishing the soothing and comforting touch that only you could ever provide. Your eyes fluttered a few times before you gave into his silent plea. Running your thumb over the delicate skin of his cheekbones, a twinge of woe struck your chest at the sight before you.

“Why do you make me feel this way...” you murmured to yourself.

“If only I understood the way I felt about you...” Yoongi thought.

A soothing and not-entirely awkward silence filled the room. Yoongi’s throaty breathing and occasional sniffles were the only other noises that were distinguishable, and your intermittent hiccup decided to grace you with its presence towards the last three minutes of the hour.

“Yoongi?” you whispered. Had he fallen asleep? Sitting up? Was he secretly a horse?

“Mhm?” he hummed. Whew—still awake.

Holding back the tiniest grin, you sighed. “Let’s go back to your dorm.”

Mumbling something in his enervated state, you helped him up to his feet and slung his arm over your shoulders to keep him upright and on his feet. You could only pray that he was still conscious enough to have control over his legs.

That day, you learned that dragging a barely conscious man who was twice the size of you into the boys’ dorm block was a sight worthy of earning a couple tentative stares. The childishly logical part of your brain wondered how serial killers did it.

“Hm, I don’t know _____, maybe the fact that they’re absolutely maniacal psychopaths who possess four times the upper body strength you do helps,” you huffed, verbally exercising your strain as you tried to walk straight while propping Yoongi up. Was he drunk or really that sick?

Where was the RA anyway? Paying that high price of tuition should at least warrant a decent resident advisor for safety reasons.

Brushing the shoulder of a stranger, the guy stared at you with terribly confused eyes as he stopped brushing his teeth. Panting heavily, Yoongi grumbled another illegible sentence of nonsense as you took a breather to ask the stranger where his room was. Logically, it had to be one of the only single-dorms in the building, so you prayed it mirrored the layout of yours and was at the end of the hall.

The doe-eyed boy pointed to the end of the long corridor, the minty toothpaste bubbles foaming around the sides of his mouth as it remained parted open in confusion. You quickly thanked him and stumbled slowly but surely down the length of the hallway. Even though it was safe to assume that his door was locked, you turned down the lever and were surprised when the door swung open. Yoongi apparently doesn’t lock his door on the regular...

Thankfully, the layout of the room did, in fact, resemble yours, so you were able to find his bedroom with ease. You convinced yourself that fact that you had woken up there one fateful morning certainly played no part in it. Flinging himself (along with the frustrated force that resulted from your built-up and rushing endorphins) onto the mattress, he landed into the rumpled sheets with a thump. Apparently, he also didn’t have a habit of making his bed before he left his dorm.

You let out a final harsh exhale. You did it. Stretching out your shoulders as a reward, you were more than positive that they’d be sore tomorrow. When was the last time you worked out? A trick question with a secret option C. You couldn’t be bothered to.

Pulling off his shoes and peeling his jacket off of his body, you started to question whether he was secretly blackout drunk or truly terribly ill. He was out like a light within the first few steps into his dorm. You splayed his crinkled blanket over his body loosely, careful to keep him insulated but still allow some room for air to circulate and allow breathability.

When your fingers brushed away the blonde hairs that were stuck on his sweat-dampened forehead, he shifted from his side-lying position, reaching out instinctually to grab your hand again. Yoongi kept his grip on your wrist firm, locking it close against his chest like a child’s teddy bear. He nuzzled his head into your wrist like a puppy, nosing the soft skin between your pulse point and prominent vein. He couldn’t help it that the cool skin of your poorly circulating limbs felt like ice packs on his burning hot skin.

You blinked a couple times trying to process the options you had. Each tug in an attempt to free your arm from his grip only resulted in him clutching tighter, and he seemed to mumble something as his face contorted into a recognizable expression of discomfort. Nightmare?

Finally realizing that he wasn’t going to let go of you anytime soon, you gave up. It’s not like you had anything better to do today. Kneeling down beside the bed, you placed your free hand underneath your chin and propped your elbow on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position and wait for the situation to pan out for a couple minutes. He’d have to let go of you eventually.

You couldn’t hold back the burning desire to admire his sleeping features. He looked so at peace compared to his day-to-day mood, almost like an entirely different person. Rubbing over his knuckles involuntarily, you didn’t even realize you were doing it until you felt his grip relax with your touch. Judging from how he had his mouth slightly parted and the steady rhythm of the rising and falling of his chest, you concluded that he had fallen asleep.

Not wasting another second, you stealthily slid your hand out of his caging hold and folded the remaining edge of the blanket over his arms. You stood up and brushed off your red kneecaps and tip-toed to the door, closing it as softly as you could. Yoongi needed to sleep his heart out.

Was it wrong to just leave? You stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that by the time he’d wake up, he would be starving. It wasn’t easy eating when you were sick, and Yoongi’s comment last week about him knowing what a month’s long diet of instant noodles and coffee looked like made you shudder in guilt. Gathering every single bit of patience and empathy you had left in the degrading bones of yours, you diverted yourself away from the exit and to the kitchen.

Single-dorms on the university campus were like miniature studio apartments. Usually reserved for students on an as-needed basis, there were only six or seven in total. So far, Yoongi was the only other person you had met who occupied one. You hated to admit it, but he was probably the only other person you had talked to and gotten to know this much in all your years of attending the school. Would you dare go as far as to say he was your only friend?

You quickly shook off the thought and went back to digging around his kitchen. His fridge and cupboard inventory didn’t come as much of a shock to you. It was, for lack of a better word, horrendous.

The small refrigerator was practically empty, and the only things occupying the near-empty shelves were a couple apples, a half-dozen pack of eggs, a measly portion of fruit salad (probably from the mini-mart down the street), a package of mixed and chopped vegetables for soups and stews, one styrofoam takeout box, and a suspicious looking tin-foil boat.

Don’t even mention the side compartments. Those were reserved for a few energy drinks, half-opened caffeine shots, packets of takeout condiments, a full-sized bottle of ketchup, a block of cheddar cheese, and a torn open foil pack of butter. Quirking the edge of your lip into a dumbfounded pucker, your face relaxed into one of comedic amusement. How could anyone live off of this—garbage? You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word “food.” That would be offensive to the existence of food itself.

His freezer was completely empty, so moving onto the cupboards was either going to be a big mistake or a happy accident. You prayed deep down it was the latter. Then again, you also could not have been more wrong.

The cupboards weren’t any better. If anything, they were worse. The grey-painted plastic backboards were the only things visible, usually a sign that a student had just moved in days ago. In one corner of the lowest shelf was an almost-empty box of granola bars; the shitty 99 cent ones every seasoned uni student stocked up on in bulk before the semester started. Beside it was a newly opened bag of rice. At least that was the one food item in this crapshoot that seemed remotely new.

The rest of the shelves held two worn-out, rusty frying pans, and chipped glass china. Those were probably hand-me-downs from senior students who couldn’t be bothered to throw their old belongings away after graduation. There was a whole recycling bin full of them in the storage shed by the cafeteria

You bit your lip, trying to think of what to make with what little you were given. Omelet? Boring. Soup? Painfully more boring. Curious, you unwrapped the mysterious bundle of tin-foil and discovered a very fresh marbled flank of beef. Cheering internally, you set to work on your favorite childhood dish that you were most confident in cooking: fried rice.

You were more than willing to buy him another pack of meat. Hell, after the shock of seeing his fridge? You were more than willing to buy his groceries for a whole damn month if it meant he would take care of himself. Your grandparents always sent you too much money at once anyway. It wasn’t as if you had friends to go out and drink with, so paying for dinners wasn’t a usual activity you took part in.

You started off by washing the rice and setting it up on the stovetop to boil. It would take the longest to prepare, so it was only natural to get that out of the way first. Next came the simple process of chopping up the meat, cooking it thoroughly, combining the packet of pre-cut vegetables, and then mixing in the rice last. On any other given day, you would have seasoned the meat with at least a pinch of pepper, but you didn’t exactly have that option considering the given circumstances.

It didn’t take long since the limited and pre-measured ingredients boxed you in along the way. Plating the rice onto the only dish deep enough that Yoongi had available, you used the same pan to quickly fry up two eggs. The smell of steaming hot food made your stomach grumble in response.

Not to stroke your ego or anything, but you enjoyed patting yourself on the back for your accomplishments every now and then, no matter how small. Self-assurance was good for the old pessimistic soul.

You tried to think of any other thing you could add to the meal and ogled the table when you nearly forgot. Shuffling back to the fridge, you cut up half an apple and arranged the slices into the plastic mini-mart bowl of fruit salad. Then, you eagerly jumped towards the bottle of ketchup and shook it vigorously with arms that were already starting to feel sore from lugging around Yoongi earlier.

Drizzling the condiment over the golden heap of steaming rice, the red zig-zag streams finished off the orange and green vegetables quite nicely. You covered it with the only other dish Yoongi had in his cupboard and hoped it would still be warm by the time he woke up. Sighing in satisfaction as well as exhaustion, you didn’t pause to check the time.

“Shit...” you muttered. The sky was already pitch black, meaning that it was well past 9. You facepalmed. How long had you been here? Mind you, you also completely forgot that you still had an essay due next week. Do you know how much easier life would be if your laptop grew its own set of hands and just wrote it for you?

If you checked up on Yoongi before leaving, you had a feeling he would wake up the minute the doorknob clicked, so you thought it was best just to let him rest. Sneaking out of a dorm for the first time in your life, the door creaked ever-so-slightly before latching shut as Yoongi and his dorm returned to their all-too-familiar state of vacancy.

Getting up the next morning was certainly an interesting process, to say the least. You sat in your tangled mess of bedsheets for about ten minutes before coming to the realization that yesterday was everything but a dream. It hit you like a bucket of cold water that had just been dumped over your head.

Throughout the entire day, you hobbled through your classes with hunched shoulders and a rounded back, feeling a constant strain in your upper body each time you tried to straighten out. “Working out” was a mistake.

As the deadline for the performance was almost at the two-month mark, you grew more and more anxious with each passing day. It wasn’t anything special. You always had a healthy amount of anxiety revolving around academia but your performance nerves were on a completely different level.

Humming to piece to yourself, your phone buzzed from your pocket as the blaring of your ringtone sounded. Your parents didn’t call you during the weekdays and you couldn’t think of anyone else who had your phone number. “Perks of having no friends,” you thought. Fishing it out of your coat pocket, your eyes widened when Yoongi’s name flashed across the screen.

Your fingers swiped across the green icon absentmindedly, accepting the call with little hesitation. “Hello?” Didn’t he usually prefer to text you rather than call?

“Hey,” he replied. He sounded a lot better than yesterday but his throaty tone made it clear that traces of his cold still remained. “Are you free?”

You hiccuped. “Wh–yeah. Yeah, I’m free.” Of course, he knew you were free. It was a trick question. After following you around and trying to catch your tail, he had familiarized himself with your schedule, just as you had done a few weeks prior. “Do you want to book a practice room?”

A sniffle suddenly sounded from behind you and echoed in the receiver, making goosebumps sprawl across your neck. Not a millisecond after, the line clicked dead. Rip it off like a band-aid or peel it off slowly and painstakingly? Opting for the former, you closed your eyes tightly and mouthed a silent swear, turning around in slow motion like something out of an action film.

Low and behold, there was Yoongi shifting his weight back and forth on his heels. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to go on a—” he paused to rub the back of his neck; he only did that when he was nervous. “On a hike?”

“A hike?” The word felt foreign in your mouth. As far as you were concerned, yesterday’s fiasco was enough physical activity to last you for the rest of the year, but Yoongi wanted to go on a hike? “Aren’t you still sick?”

He shrugged. “A little cardio might help me burn it off and do me some good.”

“You’re not plotting my murder, are you?” you gulped. Why was that always the first logical explanation that presented itself in your head?

Blinking at you for a moment, he chuckled and shook his head at your comment. “Not unless it's by physical activity. And it’s only up to the viewpoint. You’ve sprinted to classes farther than that.”

He had a point. The school was built atop a hillside and the viewpoint was, as its name entailed, a spot where you could look over the entire campus. It was about a five-minute walk outside of the gates and the climb wasn’t too steep. It certainly beat running a whole campus-length to each of your classes.

“What about practice?” you sputtered, tongue weighing down your mouth like an ankle weight. “We haven’t gone over the piece in weeks.”

Throwing his arm over your sore shoulders and bringing you close to him, he sighed. “Learn to live a little, _____. We still have two more months. A walk might clear your head.” Since when was Yoongi the voice of reason?

You allowed him to walk a few steps ahead of you and ducked under his arm swiftly when you got the chance, freeing yourself from his hold. The concept of space bubbles around Yoongi had grown dangerously close to popping now.

“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “Fine, fine, let’s go.” Picking up your pace, he trailed behind you with an amused smirk.

Was it the cough medicine making him loopy or was he just particularly charming today?

“Min Yoongi, yo–I swear to God—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before collapsing onto the grass like a sack of potatoes. “If I ever get the strength back in my legs, I am going to smother you with a pillow,” panting between each word.

By the time you made it up to the top of the hill, the sun was already set, making vivid orange and dusty pink colors streak across the darkened sky. The air was colder up here than back down on the campus level but you tried your best to hide your discomfort whenever your hands throbbed from the cold.

Yoongi laughed as his eyes crinkled and his pearly white teeth showed in a gummy smile. “Good luck with that,” he chuckled. Making himself comfortable and sitting down beside your limp body, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing in deeply. The walk actually did in fact, miraculously clear up his stuffy sinuses. Wonderful.

Sitting up, you tried to rub your hands as discreetly as possible so as to not make him worry but failed when cracking of a few knuckles caused him to snap his gaze to you. He unzipped his jacket and flung off his hood and you immediately stopped him.

“Nope,” you retaliated quickly. “No. Put it back on. Don’t even think about doing anything textbook cliché or I’ll roll you down the hill like a Lincoln log.”

Raising his eyebrows slightly at your distaste and choice of a non-threatening threat, he shrugged his jacket back on with a quizzical pout. “Don’t you have a pair of mittens or something?”

You grumbled a no in response, embarrassed that even he was aware of how ridiculous it was. A calming silence cast over both of you, the only sound coming from a few crickets chirping and the murmuring city far below. Your teeth started to chatter a couple minutes in, making genuine concern spread across Yoongi’s face.

“Come here,” he sighed, gesturing to his open arms. Widening your eyes, you raised your hands assuringly.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. “I just have really bad circulation, that’s all.” It wasn’t a total lie. You really did have awful circulation and it constantly made your hands and feet cold. Not a day went by when you didn’t wear socks and a thick wooly sweater around your room.

“Do you want to get sick too?” he asked with a bite in his voice, almost as if your stubbornness was beginning to get the best of him as well. “We’ve done worse things with fewer clothes on anyway...”

“Hey!” You jabbed his side. Narrowing your eyes at him in a silent message that he had won this round, you scooted over beside him as he wrapped his arms around your frame. It never ceased to amaze you how no matter the situation, whether it was his hands around yours or his arms around your body, you seemed to fit perfectly in his hold like a matching puzzle piece.

Nestling yourself into his warm figure, you felt yourself relax into his touch. It would be a sin to deny that he had an unexplainable effect on you. The softness of his jacket, the heat radiating from his body, and his natural scent lulled you into a dazed state, too relaxed to even care about boundaries anymore.

“Can we talk about it now?” he whispered, voice coming out muffled because his cheek was squished on the top of your head like a child’s.

Fluttering your eyelashes open at his sudden request, you swallowed tensely. How did you not see this coming? You pulled away to get a proper glimpse of his face. “What is there to talk about, Yoongi?”

“Don’t say my name like that,” he cut off abruptly. Had you already ticked him off? Giving him a look of confusion, he shook his head and looked down. “Don’t say my name like you pity knowing me...”

“Yoongi,” you exhaled faintly. He didn’t interrupt you this time. “I don’t understand what you want to talk about. We got angry at each other, we fought, and we made a mistake. That’s all.” Forcing out the last phrase felt like swallowing a jagged blade. You hated admitting it because of how untrue it was.

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me, _____.” His face remained firm as he used your name, speaking with an unflinching air of confidence and assuredness that only he could muster.

It was your turn to shake your head and scoff. “What do you want me to say? That it was amazing? Because it was. It was amazing, okay? Everything felt so fucking perfect and I hate admitting it—” Pausing to breathe, you groaned and tangled your fingers through your hair at the sudden outpour of emotions you’d kept bottled inside of you for weeks.

"Because feeling that good and happy for once scared the shit out of you, didn’t it?” he finished for you. Looking up at him, his gaze remained glued onto you, completely unfazed at your expected outburst.

The question that made your heart race like the beating of a butterfly’s wings suddenly presented itself on a silver platter.

“How did you know about my RA?” Your throat went dry as the words felt like chalk on your tongue. Had he told Powell yet?

Leaning his head to one side, his jaw muscles tensed. “It doesn’t take a doctor to see that you're in pain outside of class.” He said it with a tone of dripping bluntness. “Not to mention how sensitive you are to the temperature changes; how you always rub your hands when it’s cloudy outside because it’s cold; even after playing a long piece because your fingers start to ache, and how abnormally swollen your joints get after a long day.”

Your eyebrows furrowed into a dumbfounded frown. How did he know all of that? You weren’t even remotely aware of the fact that he was cognizant of your existence, much less your usual habits and mannerisms. “How do you notice all of that?”

Yoongi's jaw muscle tensed but he didn’t respond.

Licking your lips nervously, another equally anxiety-inducing question made its way to the tip of your tongue. Moving your hands down to his sleeved arm, Yoongi’s breath hitched in his throat when you looked at him softly, silently asking for his permission. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, hesitant for a brief second, before tipping his chin down once.

Your fingertips lightly brushed across the smooth skin of the top of his hand before grasping the edge of the sleeve cuff. Sliding it up slowly, the scars that were hidden became exposed, the milky tone of his skin contrasting with the rough and darkened scratches that were scattered across the entire length of his arm.

“Gnarly, isn’t it?” He let out a nasal scoff. These were the only battle scars he was sure he would never flaunt in all their glory. The pads of your fingers carefully brushed over the delicate skin, studying the textured pattern like an ancient relic; one that would leave an impression in the mind for all the wrong reasons.

“What happened afterward?” Your voice was cautious, coming out just shy of a whisper. Would he trust you enough with this?

Yoongi’s jaw clenched again. Before he could say anything, you slid his sleeve back down over his arm and instinctively held his hand for support. Gripping yours back in response, he took a deep breath to compose his thoughts before speaking. It was now or never.

“Powell found me. Whether it was because of fate or some bullshit theory of the universe, I don’t know, but he rushed me to the hospital and stayed with me for the entire week in the recovery unit.” A cold gust of wind blew and he was the one who held your hand tighter. “I didn’t tell my parents of course,” he chuckled dryly.

“They never supported me in music until the day I got my scholarship here. Before that, they practically forced me away from anything having to do with music. ‘You’ll die starving and poor; you won’t have a proper job; and when you’re on the streets, homeless and begging for money, we won’t be here to help you. Just to tell you, We told you so.’ If I told them, I knew they’d force me to move back in with them and take on the family trade; scrubbing pots and serving drinks for drunkard business mongrels until 3 a.m.”

Yoongi’s Adam’s apple bobbed at the memory but his eyes remained centered. “I took a semester off to recover and decided that it was probably best for me to just drop out since I couldn’t play anymore. PT was a crapshoot. There was nothing left here for me.” His eyes glazed over momentarily but returned in a split second. Did physical therapy really not work? Had he even tried a single session?

“Then Powell spent the entire semester practically begging on his knees to try and convince me to switch majors to composition and theory instead,” he grinned faintly, even letting out a ghost of a chuckle. “It took a month or two, but I figured I owed him that much. The old man practically raised me like his own son ever since freshman year.”

He turned to face you, gaze landing on your intense ones with a soft smile as his thumb rubbed over your hand. “Everyone thought I got sucked into the party scene, failed all of my classes. I think some of those idiots assumed I got hazed into a gang or a cult. Like those morons knew anything about me...”

You bit your lip. People were truly the worst. Not to mention immature, gossip-mongering, feeble-minded pre-burnout college pricks.

“The hospital seemed like heaven compared to the hell I stepped into when I got back. I was like an animated corpse. I rarely ate, couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t even bother going to classes. I’d just sit my bed all day and stare at the ceiling like a rock. I was too afraid to sleep because every time I did, I’d have nightmares about it.”

He frowned at the pang of contrition that struck him. “The headlights centimeters away from my face and blinding my eyes, the sirens ringing in my ears, the creaking metal wheels on the gurney...” Shaking his head, tears flung off his face and a droplet landed on the top of your hand.

Your eyes fell to the grass at you held back your own budding tears. No matter how badly you wanted to scream that it was all over and in the past and that you were there for him, all you could do was sit and listen.

“Everything just felt so fucking empty…” he whispered, tugging hard at the edge of his lower lip between his teeth. “That night with you in the practice room was the first good night’s sleep I’ve gotten in two years.” The confession took you by surprise, your eyes lighting up like a spark from a firework.

His eyes softened at your reaction. “When I got rolled into the ER, a nurse was rushing down the hall with me, holding my hand the entire way. I was busy blacking in and out of consciousness.” He stopped to grab your hand and bring it to cup his cheek, closing his eyes instantly at the contact-comfort. “But she had her hand by me the entire time until I completely knocked out in the operating room.”

Stroking your thumb over the sleep-deprived hollow that sunk in under his eye, his eyebrows knitted together and he clutched your hand tighter, afraid that if he let go, you’d dissipate like a figment of his imagination that was too good to be true. That’s why he wouldn’t fall asleep yesterday...

“It was dangling there like bait in right in front of me; taunting me, insulting me, mocking me like I was nothing—like the universe was reminding me that I was never going to be able to love anything else ever again and that I’d just have to live with it,” he continued with his face strained, expression taut as he tried to focus despite reliving the painful set of memories.

He hadn’t bothered touching a piano since that night, refusing to accept the fate he’d have to gamble in anticipation of finding out whether he still had the ability to play or not. In reality, he didn’t know whether he could still coordinate his muscles—and he had absolutely no desire to find out any time soon.

Yoongi let out a huff through his parted mouth. “Do you know how easy it is for people—things—to come into your life, give you everything that you would ever want and could possibly ask for, and then have them take it away just like that?” Seeing his breath through the frigid air, you had a feeling it wasn’t the weather making his words sound cold, but the emptiness and distance he had created within himself.

Gnawing on the corner of your lower lip, you kept your gaze focused down at your hands. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult. Somehow, you finally found the courage to speak. “Is that why you hated me?” you asked in the barest of a whisper, your voice quieter than the rustling of the leaves on the trees. “Because you felt like I took that away from you?”

“No,” he replied instantly. Fluttering your eyelids at his unexpected and confident response, you frowned at him, confused.

“I never hated you—didn’t—hate you because you played the piano,” he shook his head, eyes directed to the ground wistfully. “I was jealous.”

Your gaze softened at the confession as you swallowed nervously, awaiting his next words. “You looked so happy,” he smiled, letting out a chuckle that was too full of melancholy. “I knew from the first moment I saw you playing by yourself in the studio...” Yoongi’s voice trailed off, face melting into an expression you couldn’t read.

Staring into his eyes, you silently pleaded him to continue. The corners of his mouth lifted into a gentle smile as his pearly white teeth barely peeked through his lips. “From the moment I saw you on my first day back, I knew I was screwed,” he grinned. “I wanted to hate you so badly but you were so perfect, how could I?”

A rosy flush crept onto your face at his heartfelt words. “You were alone in the studio two hours before any classes started and you were just playing your heart out,” Yoongi remembered the day clearly, the vivid details of the first time he encountered resurfacing like the fresh morning air after a rainstorm. The way his heart raced in his chest made it seem like it had just happened yesterday.

“I thought you were some competition kid who got a free pass into school because of personal connections or an arranged acceptance, but I just heard you playing and—” he chuckled, shaking his head again.

“You weren’t just reading notes and playing the piece like a robot; you were breathing the music and I could feel it.” Yoongi’s fingers stroked the palm of your hand. “I could feel you. In every single piece I’ve ever heard you play: Campanella, Liebestraum, Fantaisie, Moonlight Sonata...”

Your pulse was racing like the engine of a sports car. Judging by how confidently he listed down the pieces, he knew each of those pieces by heart, recalling each exact moment when you had played the melodies like a page out of the book of his recollections. Campanella was the piece you’d chosen for your junior year exam, Liebestraum your senior, Fantaisie was simply one you practiced for fun, and Moonlight Sonata was the piece Powell had asked you to play for an exhibition recently.

“I tried so hard to avoid you and hate you and completely despise your existence,” he scoffed at himself. “You glowed brighter than the stars when you played. Seeing it from you made it hurt so much more because I missed that feeling more than anything,” he paused. “But I couldn’t. I was already in too deep, so I just ignored you.”

For the first time, a lengthy and comfortable silence befell the two of you.

“I didn’t know what who I wanted to be until I started college,” you admitted suddenly, confidence stemming from the seed Yoongi had planted with his truth.

“My mom taught me how to play the piano when I was four. She’d put me in her lap while she played and let me press the keys.” You chuckled at the flashback. “I didn’t think much of it until I fell entirely in love with it in middle school. It was this weird need, this urge to play whenever I was happy, angry, sad, annoyed, and frustrated. I felt like it was the only friend who understood me better than the actual people I knew.”

Yoongi gave you an understanding smile, sympathizing with your logic by the nature of personal experience.

“In high school, everyone thought I was the one who had my whole life plotted out like a map: a loving family, supportive parents, good grades.” A ghost of a smile grazed your face at the distant memory. It felt so close and yet so far like you could reach out and touch it, yet it was a fingertip’s length from being torn away from you.

“During senior year, I found out that I really didn’t have a passion for anything. Not even for music—at the time,” you filled in. “I shut everyone out with these gates I built. I hated how lonely I was, but who else could I blame? I didn’t want people to see me for who I thought I was: a passionless, unmotivated, lazy, worthless failure who would never amount to anything.”

Shaking your head, tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision, yet refused to cry over something as stupid and insignificant as this. Seeing this, Yoongi simply laced his fingers through yours firmly, wordlessly showing his support for your endurance.

“I auditioned for fun one day after seeing the posters stapled across our school’s bulletin board. Didn’t expect much at the time since I didn’t think you could do anything with a degree in music, and in the beginning, I actually thought I was right,” you laughed wryly at yourself.

“Undergrad was pretty awful. Playing as a student with a major was so much different than playing for fun. I was so stressed with deadlines and projects and practice hours, I almost forgot why I started playing in the first place.” Your mind wandered back to the long, sleepless nights you spent in the studios trying to perfect what would never even come close to the synonym of perfection.

“Then in my sophomore year, I got to take more classes with Powell and he completely changed my life. I wish I was exaggerating, but he really did change who I was as a person, not just a dazed university student. I don’t think I’d still be here without him.”

Your lips formed into a tender smile. “I started getting my passion for playing back and I learned to appreciate the value of my scholarship. I guess now, I’m just hanging in the middle.” Yoongi’s eyes studied your features intently, concentration remaining unswayed for the entirety of your release of emotions.

A couple moments skimmed by before you resumed speaking.

“I like spending time at coffee shops, taking the bus to the bookstore when I have free time, and sometimes I even make an effort to actually greet some of the people there—but I like being alone,” you admitted. Yoongi’s ears perked up at your last phrase.

“I like doing things by myself and being able to have control over everything in my life so that I don’t have anyone to blame other than me when shit goes downhill,” you rambled, swallowing your words while you spoke like bitter medicine. Yoongi’s smoldering gaze, as it lay on you, was intense enough to start forest fires.

You sighed heavily. “But frankly, I don’t like being lonely.” The confession bled past your lips like spilled ink from a bottle, leaving a splattered and stained trail as it seeped through your mind.

“No one does,” he responded honestly. Directing your watery eyes to his softened gaze, you looked down at the pair of your hands entwined together.

What was this in his eyes?

Who were you to him?

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t waste a single second before cupping the sides of your face and bringing you into a kiss. The force took you by surprise and made you land on your back with a soft thud, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter against his lips.

It didn’t take you longer than a couple of flashes in your brain synapses to give into his magnetizing touch. Making out on a hilltop in front of the city lights never crossed the line of sounding appealing other than outside of a cheesy rom-com, but Yoongi’s warm lips preoccupied every train of logical thought that ran cross your mind. God, what was he doing to you?

You’d slept with him once and you still managed to get butterflies like a giddy teenager who was in their first relationship; immature and blind with infatuation. You tangled your hands through his hair like second nature as his weight pressed on top of you, making you feel secure under him. The kiss was tender and patient—a stark contrast to the last time you had locked lips with him.

“Can I be alone with you?” he asked suddenly, breath fanning across your lips because he refused to pull away farther than three centimeters from you.

You laughed heartily, making him flash his pearly whites and peeking pink gums again. “Is this your dumb way of asking me out?” Smiling widely in response, his lips connected with yours again, effectively shutting you up.

“I don’t want to pretend like I don’t have feelings for you anymore, _____,” he murmured into your ear. “Do you know how hard it’s been having to act like I hate your guts for the past three years when I can’t stop thinking about you on a regular basis?”

Another awfully timed blush graced the tops of your cheeks. You shoved his shoulder playfully at his seemingly sarcastic yet sincere compliment. “Stop being such a softie, it’s gross.” Yoongi pouted, feigning hurt at your teasing comment. His childish face made you burst into laughter, vibrant and full of life. You’d swear on your life that he had a million personalities buried deep underneath that facade of a stone-cold gargoyle.

Biting your lip, you shook your head, picking at the grass to distract yourself. “What if I’m sleeping and this is all some dream that’s way too good to be true?” you mumbled. How did you go from avoiding each other like water and oil to melding perfectly like paper and ink?

“Then it’d be your dream and my nightmare...” he murmured, keeping his forehead pressed against yours as his lips remained centimeters away from contact.

You laughed shyly, shoving him away teasingly at his admirably honest nature. “So three years, huh?”

Again, Yoongi chose not to respond, allowing you to take note of yet another one of his habits: refusing to answer a question he knew he was guilty of.

You only had one shitty, wonderful, stressful, joyous, short life. Might as well make it worth living with what you were given.

As you gazed deeply into the dark eyes that belonged to the person who you once thought hated your very being, you realized that you were entirely and utterly screwed—because you were completely captivated by each other.

The best part? You had a million more reasons to discover exactly why.

Relationships were never you or Yoongi’s thing. Whereas the typical couple would spend hours at a time arguing over stupid things, trying to work it out but only tearing their hair out in clumps and eventually breaking up, you never saw the point in arguing in general. If you argued with your partner, you would request to break up. Simple. Clean. Painless. Well, at least for one.

It was a really black and white way of seeing the complex web that composed a relationship, but to you, it was just blatantly obvious. Some called you cold but that was just another opinion.

Why argue if you’re “in love” with each other? Why fight if you’re “in love” with each other? Why hurt the person you love if you can choose not to be with them and let them be happy? Holding onto people for the sake of a quote on quote, “relationship” despite hurting each other was selfish and pointless.

To you, that wasn’t love. It was self-sabotage.

“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice peeped from above you, mumbling into your hair.

“Hm?” you hummed, snapping out of your daze. He chuckled deeply at your deeply unwavering expression, pressing a kiss to the top of your head tenderly. You were currently tangled in the sheets of his bed after waking up from a nap. Today marked the first week of your official relationship and you had to admit, it was pretty nice.

Okay, nice was an understatement. It was perfect.

You had yet to get into an argument, as both of you had quite passive and anti-argumentative personalities. Then again, you were still technically in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, so it was bound to pop up at some point.

Your days together were few and far between spending time in the studio practicing, sleeping over at his dorm (courtesy of his ever-so diligently working resident advisor), walking each other to class, texting and video calling for hours until one of you fell asleep, and occasionally going up to the viewpoint when the weather conditions proved to be favorable—and you had chugged four cups of coffee.

It was like something of a fairytale, and you were always worried that you’d wake up one day to find out that it was just that: a false reality you had conjured up in your own head. But if it was a dream, it was one you never wanted to wake up from.

“Hold still,” you scolded for the tenth time.

Yoongi grumbled. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when you’re tickling my neck.”

Huffing at his fidgety muscles, you blew a hair out of your face and kept your hands busy. “It wasn’t my idea to dye your hair, dummy.” He hummed an off-beat tune in response to your incessant scolds.

In the early hours of the morning, you had gotten a text from your loving and selfless boyfriend that he needed to save a few bucks and needed to touch up his hair. You, being the only other person he spoke in the whole universe (practically), so graciously agreed. It was about five minutes into the hands-on activity that you were beginning to regret your generous and giving disposition.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with the fumes of bleach as Yoongi had opted to dye his hair back to his natural dark brown color. He mentioned something about his growing lazy temperament and it becoming too time-consuming to continuously touch up the dark roots every few weeks. It wasn’t exactly the best for his hair either, the blonde ends breaking off due to the harsh chemicals and his inability to spare the extra five minutes to use conditioner.

“Then why did you dye it in the first place?” you laughed, dumbfounded at his odd reasoning.

Mumbling something in an inaudible hush, you shot him a confused glance. "I was going through a phase...” he said clearer this time, tucking his chin down in shame.

Lifting your eyebrows, you nodded, accepting his answer and sensing that he wasn’t going to elaborate any time soon. “You know, you could just let it grow out and style it like that, grown out roots and everything” you offered. “I’ve seen a few celebrities who pull it off pretty well.”

“Eh,” he let out a disgruntled sound, crinkling one of his eyes.

You snorted through your nose from holding in your laugh, making him flinch as your breath tickled his sensitive neck again. “Sorry,” you giggled. Continuing brushing the pitch-black gel over his roots, you were trying to be careful and not let it get on his skin. As far as your experience in hair dye went, the stains would wash out easily with some warm water and soap, but you didn’t enjoy the extensive process of cleanup it would lead to.

“Does it bother you?” you asked, referring to the color differentiation of dark roots to beige blonde hair during the grow-out process.

Thinking over it for a minute, Yoongi pouted and gave into his perfectionist attitude as he clicked his tongue with a “yup.” Holding back a grin at his undeniably soft personality, you couldn’t believe that you still hadn’t woken up yet. You intentionally blew a puff of air in his ear, causing him to jolt from his seat.

“Hey!” he was the one to scold this time.

“My advisor is going to kill me.”

“If you die, I’ll kill you.”

Scrunching your nose at his menacing threat that made absolutely no sense, he let out a sleepy grumble, nestling his head into your hair and inhaling your scent.

“Just because your advisor is shit at his job, doesn’t mean that mine doesn't notice when I’m gone,” you pointed out.

Yoongi mumbled lazily into your hair in the hopes that you’d drop the topic and go to sleep. It was an idle Friday night and the two of you had spent the entire day at the studio practicing the piece. Since you only had classes from Mondays to Thursdays, you got into a routine of meeting up and spending the whole free day in the studios.

The last day of the week was what Yoongi looked forward to more than anything because it usually ended with you burying yourselves in his bed sheets with a random episode of The Office playing on your laptop and falling asleep tangled in each other.

“Yoongi,” you groaned. “What if I get in trouble?”

He hummed something inaudible into your chest once again, tickling your collarbone with his whispers. No way were you letting him fall asleep that easily. It was only fifteen minutes past 8.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Poking his shoulder playfully, his mouth was still closed, indicating that he was indeed fully awake. He always parted his mouth slightly when he was asleep, another habit you picked up early on the way before your relationship started.

Then an idea struck you. There was that favor you needed to repay him for...

Prying your body away from his arms gently, you bit your lip coyly, smirking at his clueless sleeping body. Your hand trailed down to the band of his sweatpants slowly, making him gulp. Running your fingers along the bundle of fabric near his hipbone, you were surprised when your hand met his already-hard length.

Yoongi’s eyes were now fully open as you shot him a questioning gaze. “Your fault for being so goddamn attractive all the time...” he defended, jutting his lower lip into a pout and not bothering to hide his blatantly obvious hard-on.

Dropping your mouth in a mock offended gape, you raised your eyebrows as a chuckle of disbelief came out. “I haven’t even touched you yet!”

“I get hard just thinking about you,” he admitted all-too casually. Smacking him on the shoulder from embarrassment, you shook your head and couldn’t help but bury your face in his chest.

“It amazes me the same Min Yoongi who despised me a few months ago would turn out to be the softest cheeseball I know,” you scoffed.

Kissing your nose, he wrapped his arms around you and turned onto his back, rolling you on top of him. The change of angle made you immediately feel his hardness pressing under you. You rested your chin on his chest innocently, rolling the piling lint on his shirt between your fingers.

Yoongi’s eyes started drifting off again, too tired to keep the ball rolling, but not before giving you another idea. Keeping your chin resting atop his chest, you began rolling your hips slowly against his, making him suddenly choke while exhaling.

Lifting his head to look down at your seductive grin, you batted your eyelashes sweetly, feigning innocence as you continued grinding your hips over the growing tent in his pants.

“_____,” he whined, rubbing his tired eyes. “You know there’s nothing or anyone I’d rather be doing right now, but I’m a little sleepy.” Pressing a swift kiss to his lips, you ignored his excuses and slid down to pull down his sweats.

“Who said you had to do anything?” Your voice was too cocky for your own good and Yoongi was, as he had mentioned, too tired to even sit up and watch what you were doing. You had all of him to yourself and at your mercy.

Snapping the band of his boxers against his skin, Yoongi let out another soft whine as he started growing more impatient and harder with your teasing pace. His clothed member was straining against the tight cotton of his briefs and made you lick your lips in anticipation.

You palmed him through the thin fabric, drawing out teasing him for as long as possible to make his pleasure greater in the long run, but it forced another throaty growl out of his mouth. His gruff tone made wetness pool immediately between the junction of your thighs.

Unable to handle your own slow pace for much longer, you yanked down his briefs in one swift tug as his length immediately sprung out against his toned stomach. It was just as perfect as you had remembered.

You were seconds away from biting your lip to the point of breaking the skin. Wrapping your hand around his hardness like a magnet, it throbbed underneath your fingers, already oozing precum from the red and swollen tip. Each time you pumped up and down his length, it caused a bead to well up and pool around his slit. Fuck—how was he was so perfect?

“_____,” he moaned through a strangled whine. Watching his face with every precise stroke, Yoongi’s face flushed bright pink as he clenched his jaw and rubbed his forehead in frustration. Words of encouragement weren’t needed to put an end to your teasing; your own blooming arousal took care of that.

Gnawing on your lower lip, you couldn’t hold back your desire anymore as your tongue darted out to lick a slow line along his tip, grazing the dimple of his sensitive slit with the flat edge of your tongue. He arched his back off of the bed instantly and almost came with a single touch.

Unable to talk and already breathless from the contact he had been waiting for since that night, you peppered kisses down his thick member and licked a stripe on the prominent vein beside his tip, causing him to jolt again. Your core throbbed seeing him in such a vulnerable state, while Yoongi knew that at that exact moment, he belonged to you, and only you.

Finally wrapping your lips around his head, your tongue smoothed over his cock, sucking with just the right amount of pressure to keep his nails digging into the mattress. Swirling your tongue around the tip tantalizingly slowly, you guided his hands into your hair, directing him silently to tug your tresses.

Obeying instantly with a moan, lewd sounds began filling the room as you began bobbing up and down mercilessly, varying your speed and pressure occasionally to keep him on edge. You even went as far as to grasp him with your hand and drag his tip across your slick and swollen lips which earned you another deep moan from him.

“Fucking hell,” he moaned, throat raspy and rough from holding back his cries of pleasure. Pausing your unholy administrations, you gave your jaw a break by gripping his base tightly with one hand and swirling your tongue around the index finger of your free hand. He craned his head back in an overload of pleasure as you used it to rub over his slit, toying with his red tip.

Everyone had a different piece of advice regarding giving head. Some said you needed to focus on the tip; others said that the balls were highly disregarded; a few said that the spot where the head met the length was the most sensitive. All in all, it really depended on the person, and to be quite honest, you weren’t that experienced.

Yoongi was an exception, as both of you had learned your respective kinks out of genuine interest and desire for mutual pleasure, not as a nagging chore or contract payback.

Not to mention the first time you’d slept with each other was—enlightening.

“Fuck, _____,” he growled, moving your hair out of your face to gaze into your eyes. “How are you so fucking perfect?” Huh—even when he was blissed out, he was still the romantic type.

You broke your character of confidence as a shy grin escaped. Wrapping your mouth around him again, he let out a grunt and threw his head back onto the bed. The sloppy, obscene sounds returned once you repeated your actions, his knuckles moving out of your hair to grip the bed sheets for fear of hurting you. His fists were clenched so hard, his knuckles were white.

Yoongi’s body grew warm, a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead, and he began pulsating in your mouth more frequently; he was close. Closing your hand around his throbbing length, you gripped him firmly and coordinated your pumps with your mouth, making him throw his head back in pure ecstasy.

His hands found their way back to your hair, trying to pull you away as a warning that he would cum soon, but you swatted them away. Grabbing your hands instead, he laced his fingers through yours in a death grip, heart pounding so hard that it nearly burst through his ribcage.

His pants grew increasingly urgent and his moans were primal. He found his release with the cry of your name as his cock shot hot spurts of cum into your throat and on your readily cupped tongue. The sensation of him throbbing in your mouth as his breathing calmed down was such a powerful feeling, and add to it the pleasure of seeing him writhe in pleasure beneath your fingertips?

It sounded like a recipe for a perfect Friday night in both you and Yoongi’s books.

Sucking his remaining release off of his softening length, you savored the satisfying, salty taste like fine wine as it coated your tongue and throat. It felt so wrong but too right. You wiped off whatever you could from his spent cock, hating to waste anything. Once you were done, you tugged his boxers back on as Yoongi brought you into his hold and wasted no time kissing you deeply, exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Parting your mouth to calm your breathing, Yoongi’s eyes bore into yours with blown out pupils, still coming down from his high. “I didn’t know that’s what you meant by sleepyhead.” His euphoric chuckle reverberated like the baritone of a bass.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?” you moaned softly under your breath, licking the remnants of his release off of your index finger as you nestled into his side.

He gazed at you warmly as his mouth broke into a gummy smile and eyes into half-moons. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

Suddenly, a mischievous expression glassed over his features. You narrowed your eyes. “What is that face?” Smirking with a sinister gaze, Yoongi was now wide awake, giving you no time before flipping you onto your back and tickling your sides.

“Hey!” you giggled, trying to swat away his arms like flies. Without giving you a formal warning, he tugged down your shorts making you yelp in surprise when the cold air hit your dripping core.

Licking his lips in excitement and carnal instinct, he flashed a far too innocent grin at you before he delved in, unable to hold back his mundane hunger for another second.

It was going to be a long weekend.

Digging around the fridge, a bundle of asparagus landed in Yoongi’s hand as he caught it mid-air from falling. You were already crouched down and braced for impact, but unfurled your wound arms, taking a peek at the grinning figure above you.

“You okay there?” Yoongi’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, helping you up from your hunched position. Taking the bag from his hands, you beamed at him in response, turning back to the stovetop.

He sighed. “You really didn’t have to stock up my fridge, you know.” Sneaking a carrot off of your cutting board, he popped it into his mouth like a 12-year old badgering their mother in the kitchen. “The apocalypse isn’t until—” he snuck a glance at his imaginary watch, filling his cheeks with air and pursing his lips into a puffer-fish face pout. “—400 years from now.”

You rolled your eyes at his ever sarcastic jokes. “If the apocalypse doesn’t kill you, your diet of energy drinks and expired caffeine shots will,” you lectured.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile warmheartedly. Not at your nurturing actions, but at you. He still felt like this was all a dream, too good to be true. Wrapping his arms around your waist, you fit into his larger frame like a lock and key as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

“What’s on the menu today?” he asked, voice producing ticklish vibrations just under the shell of your ear.

Turning to face him, you scrunched your nose. He wasn’t just a cheeseball—he was officially the biggest, softest, sweetest, weirdest, and most amazing person you had ever met. You never thought you’d say anything even remotely close to that in your entire life.

“Your favorite,” you answered in a sing-song voice.

The corners of his mouth turned up into a cheeky smirk you knew too well. His hands trailed down slowly to your hipbones, rubbing soothing circles into them out of habit. He licked over his bottom lip teasingly, all while keeping his eyes glued on you. Yours were focused on washing the rice.

“Yoongi,” you warned playfully, knowing his expressions like the back of your hand. You could feel his eyes drinking in your features, your very existence an oasis for him, a once deserted and desperate man. “Don’t even think about it.”

He pouted, jutting his lip out as his eyebrows furrowed into a dramatic scowl. “But I’m hungry!” he whined impishly into your hair.

“I’m making lunch,” you giggled. “Just wait.” Your eyes widened at the last word, emphasizing your point.

Trailing gentle pecks long your neck, he murmured softly into your ear. “Not for fried rice...”

Your hands froze in the midst of opening the bag of spinach.

“Yoongi!” you groaned.

Another Wednesday, another solitary four hours spent in the studio alone. After your classes were over, you texted Yoongi saying you needed a few hours alone to practice freely. Just because you were in a relationship didn’t mean you had to spend every waking moment with each other.

Besides, he and you were both aware of your respective personal space and private time you needed to spend doing your own things. Yoongi also mentioned that he needed to finish up a beat he was making for a friend, so it worked out well.

You walked out of the studio with a scarf wrapped around your neck, sheltering you from the biting wind that graced the campus grounds. Skipping down the stairs, you were greeted by the back of a person whom you had become very well-acquainted with.

Hearing the sound of your gleeful steps he had memorized down to the last click, he turned around—with a pair of to-go cups in his hands.

Your eyebrows raised up as your mouth broke into a mixture of an endeared laugh and astonished chuckle. Leaning down, he pecked you on the cheek, feeling his heart flutter at your effortless beauty.

“Was she even real?” he wondered.

“You didn’t have to,” you awed. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to get dinner anyway.”

Yoongi handed you the cup marked with the symbols you knew by heart: double-shot of espresso, a pump of mocha, a single packet of hazelnut creamer, and two packets of sugar.

“Your hands need to stay warm,” he insisted, rubbing over your hands that were now wrapped tightly around the cup.

Biting your lip, your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much at the simple but meaningful gesture. “Thank you,” you blushed sincerely, not just from the wave of emotions that washed over you but also from the cold.

Was he even real?

You nearly twisted your ankle trying to catch up to his speed-walking figure.

“Hey!” you shouted, panting heavily at how quick he was on his feet. Was he training for a marathon behind your back? “Yoongi! Hold–wait up! Slow down!”

No matter what you said, it didn’t seem to faze him as he continued walking. Hunching over and putting your hands on your bent knees to hold yourself up, you took a couple deep breaths before sprinting as fast as your burning legs could carry you.

“Min fucking Yoongi, if you don’t stop right now, I will—” You didn’t manage to finish your sentence before stumbling over a jagged crack in the pavement and falling with a gasp. The impact was abrupt, the shock not giving you a chance to let out a proper scream. Silent accidents were the ones that hurt the most.

Yoongi was by your side in the blink of an eye, almost tripping over the ditch himself when he ran back to you. “_____!” he shouted in pure panic. Well, that certainly broke his vow of silence...

Helping you get off of your stomach and sit up straight, he winced when he saw your forearm. The injury was nothing more than a wide scrape on the damp cement, but the rocky debris and dripping crimson trail made it appear all the more appealing for a Stephen King movie.

You cringed at the wound yourself, but more so at the stinging pain that began to spread over your elbow. Minor cuts and scratches were gifts sent from Satan himself. The thought of it getting infected made Yoongi pull out a pack of tissues from his bag as he pressed the bundle firmly over your wound. His face was still locked in an uncomfortable grimace.

“Let’s go back to my dorm. I have a first-aid kit,” he mumbled, helping you onto your feet and bending down on one knee. You raised your eyebrow at his odd position, only realizing a few seconds afterward that he was offering you a piggyback ride.

You let out a nasal scoff. “Yoongi, my legs are still perfectly mobile. Get up before you get your clothes wet.” You had enough to deal with his bitchy mood today and it certainly didn’t help that it had been raining a few hours prior to his temper tantrum.

He pressed his lips into a firm line, refusing to respond or get up from his crouched position. Was he messing around? After a minute of complete silence, you huffed, annoyed at his ridiculous and adamant form of an apology, and saddled onto his back.

Hooking his arms beneath your knees as you looped yours around his neck, you realized how much of a cheeky shit he truly was. Yes, he hated acknowledging it, but even he knew how ridiculous this argument and wanted to use the close proximity a piggyback would give to his advantage—even though the two of you were as stubborn as garden weeds.

“Are you going to talk to me now?” you asked, propping your chin comfortably on his shoulder like a perched bird as he began walking the two of you back to his dorm.

Sniffling once, he prodded the inside of his cheek in an effort to distract himself, too prideful to answer you right away.

“Yoongi...” you sighed faintly, saying his name the way you did whenever he tugged at your heartstrings. He exhaled harshly through his nose once before finally speaking.

“I don’t like how nice you are,” he said bluntly with an obviously sheepish tone of shame coating his voice. What?

“What?” you repeated out loud this time, unable to hold back your animated face of utter confusion.

When he didn’t reply, you tugged on his ears like you were scolding a child who’d just been caught licking dollops of icing straight from the piping bag. “Min Yoongi,” you called out half-threateningly.

He let out a whiny grumble, a sound that was a combination of a grumpy obese cat and worn out AC motor.

“I don’t like how nice you are to everyone,” he repeated. “Especially to guys.”

Your mouth was parted in an ‘o’ shape and your eyes were narrowed like an animated character’s. Was he—no way...

Your eyes widened to the size of the moon when he blushed. Oh my God. “You’re jealous?!” you screeched. He jumped at the volume of your voice. It was the first time he had ever heard you genuinely scream and he imagined it was what you would sound like if you were at a concert.

Were you a Liszt or Chopin person? Rachmaninoff? Maybe Beethoven? He nibbled on his lips to hide his grin. Why were you so cute?

“Earth to Yoongi?” you deadpanned, waving your hands in front of his face to get his attention. Snapping his eyes to you and blinking out of his daze, he returned to his stern expression. Tipping your head to one side, you stared at him with half-lidded eyes, tired of his antics.

No wonder relationships didn’t last long; human beings were naturally and wholeheartedly stubborn as fuck. Flaring your nostrils at his unyielding disposition, you clicked your tongue between your teeth, resorting to blatant, unfiltered honesty.

“Jungkook was just being helpful—and I was being polite.” Enunciating the word, Yoongi paid no attention to it, as it wasn’t one he had registered in his dictionary.

There it was. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat at your ability to lay out your non-implicit thoughts onto the table. “You could’ve told me he was the idiot who told you where my dorm was when you were hauling me into my room that day.” He defended his reasoning, still unconvinced.

“I didn’t even know who he was until we met him today,” you groaned, repeating what you had said earlier for the fifth time. This was all so torturously textbook newly-blooming relationship bullcrap and was making your head pound in your skull.

Jungkook, the boy you’d seen that day when you dragged Yoongi down his dorm corridor and who had directed you to where his room was, recognized you during lunch today. Being the social butterfly and sweetheart he was, he found it in his best interest to introduce himself to you formally.

During the conversation, which lasted just short of a minute and a half, Yoongi’s glare was practically burning crater-sized holes into Jungkook’s face the entire time, imagining his face as target objects ranging from a checkered dartboard to a chipped wooden knife block.

He jutted his lower lip into his signature pout. “Well I didn’t exactly enjoy seeing the little prick recognize you and shout like he’d just won the damn lottery...” he remarked bitterly, irritation directed purely towards Jungkook and not you.

“Did he really not have a better way to grab your attention? I was this close to filing a lawsuit for hearing damage.” Unable to bring his fingers up to mimic a pinch, he narrowed his eyes tightly instead. “Nearly burst my damn eardrum running over to you and calling you 'superwoman lady...’”

“Yoongi,” you hummed, a chuckle escaping your lips like a song. “You’re jealous because of some sophomore who happened to recognize me from carrying her boyfriend—” you emphasized. “—to his dorm room because he was sick?”

Coming to terms with your lawful point, he mumbled something under his breath that you could’ve sworn was, “Not back then I wasn't.”

“I’m in love with you, you idiot.” Poking fun at his jealous side, it was quite endearing to know that he cared about you to the extent of fuming like a kettle in the presence of other guys. Grabbing one side of his face with one hand, you gave him an affectionate peck on his cheek, causing him to blush like a middle-schooler. God, he was so innocent.

After a couple more leisure paces in the direction of the boys' dorm, you stopped for a moment to look at you properly.

“I still think you’re too nice,” he closed with a ‘hmph,’ continuing his way back to his room. You could only hold back your hearty smile for so long before it burst.

“No freaking way, buddy,” you scoffed. Tossing another kernel of popcorn into your mouth, Yoongi pointed to his open mouth. Popping one into his, respectively, you returned to your bantering debate.

“Liszt is obviously far superior to Chopin,” Yoongi remarked snarkily. You’d gone over this for the past hour, killing time while the pre-packaged cookie dough you bough baked in the oven.

Another sarcastic puff of air left your lips. “Are you kidding me? Other than the fact that he had freakishly large hands and made a pact with Paganini and sacrificed both of their souls to the Devil, I don’t think this is even a real topic up for grabs.”

Snatching the kernel from your fingers in the midst of bringing it to your mouth, Yoongi chortled at your gaping jaw. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?” His straightforward and genuine eyebrow raise made you shrug.

“I don’t know. You listen to La Campanella and tell me.” Mirroring his inquisitive expression and raising your eyebrow, his voice vibrated in a lengthy hum.

“Hm... Well played, _____. Well played...” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, trying his best to seem intimidating like a dollar store Sherlock Holmes. “But you mastered Campanella in your junior year, so who’s the real soul-sacrificing Devil here?”

You poked your tongue out, launching another piece of popcorn into his readily awaiting mouth to shut him up. However, your aim was a little too northbound and it ended up hitting his forehead. You laughed to the point where your stomach was cramping. You assumed it was karma taking your side.

Days blurred into weeks and before you knew it, it was the night before the performance exam. No matter how many times you’d been forced by your school assignments to play for an audience, it never ceased to get your heart pumping—for the wrong reasons.

Sighing, you flung your body into your freshly washed bed sheets. It was only 10, but you figured since it would take you a few hours to fall asleep from the nerves, it’d probably be best to knock out early.

“Not too late to sneak over and cuddle with me, you know,” a voice reverberated from your phone speaker.

You chuckled at Yoongi’s determined and unwavering stubbornness that stemmed from his giddy fondness for you. Your advisor had eventually caught you sneaking into your dorm room a few days ago and if you had, oddly enough, listened to Yoongi’s pestering and stayed in his room for the night, you wouldn’t be on room lockdown right about now. You felt like a prisoner in your own dorm.

Wrapping the blanket around yourself like a swaddle, you hid your gleeful smile with the bundle of sheets as his equally gummy grin displayed on the bright screen of your phone. Both of your room lights were all off so his cheeky face was all the more visible.

“She let me off easy and didn’t give me a suspension and that was because I’m one of the good students on this block,” you reminded. “I don’t think I want to push my luck.”

Yoongi huffed exasperatedly, irked that he wouldn’t be able to hold you tonight. “Are you ungrounded tomorrow?” He spoke in pout. That damn pout...

Burying your face in your blankets and clamping your hand over your mouth to hide your squeal, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the crude beginnings of your relationship. Was this real?

“Yup,” you mumbled sluggishly through the fabric. “You’re buying dinner after the performance is over.”

Letting out a sigh, he lied down on his bed and rested his hand comfortably beneath his head, allowing you to get a full glimpse of his body, only now realizing that he was shirtless. Despite the darkness that cascaded both of your rooms, you could clearly see the definition of his lean but built muscles, the veins on his forearm rippling with each time he shifted on his mattress.

“Who gave you permission to be so hot?” you yawned out, accidentally letting the lewd thought slip past your lips as you grew increasingly sleepy with each sentence. He laughed huskily in a low voice, admiring your state of sleep-drunkenness, as you liked to call it.

His raspy voice wasn’t just the thing you’re ears were blessed with in the mornings, but also at night when he was equally as exhausted as you. It was like a second piano to your ears, lulling you to sleep each time whether it was through video calls or cradled by his side.

Bundling the sheets around his body, you whined faintly at the loss of your favorite sight. “I don’t know, my girlfriend. She’s cool or whatever,” he whispered, eyes beginning to droop shut like yours. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

The word still felt like a new muscle stitched his tongue, every sentence that contained it sounding a million times better with the coined phrase. Yoongi continued cherishing his new reality: he had a girlfriend and it was you.

You couldn’t respond with words, just a fuzzy, softhearted grin. “Love you, dummy,” you yawned again.

Yoongi yawned in tandem with you, lips curling into the gummy smile you loved. “I love you, _____...” he managed to say before allowing sleep to consume him.

Neither of you even bothered to end the call, a habit you had developed from the hundreds of times you had rung each other and fallen asleep to each other’s voices. The first few times resulted in you both waking up with absolutely no battery and having to forgo your phones for the whole day, however, you quickly learned that splurging $30 on a portable charger just for these occasions was well worth it.

What if you mess up? Are your hands warm enough?

What if you forget a section? You should’ve fit in a few extra hours in the studio yesterday.

What if your fingers cramp up?

Did you remember to take an Advil? Should you have taken two?

A million questions pestered your mind like a plague, buzzing and ringing in your ears loud enough to make a swarm of steroid-filled bees jealous. Pacing around backstage as the muffled sounds from the auditorium filled the space, you were a few paces away from boring holes into the ground. Performance jitters were the worst and your anxiety made them all the more unbearable.

“Hey,” Yoongi interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders to snap you out of your pool of overwhelming thoughts. “Calm down. Breathe. You’re starting to make me nervous.”

Running your hands through your hair, you groaned and uttered out another apology. Why were you so stressed out? It wasn’t a full audience. Just your entire class plus the comp majors and table of judgmental executioners, more commonly known as the board of music teachers. The entirety of their presence was the icing on top of your cake of nightmares. God, what you would do for a slice of double-chocolate cake right about now...

“What—” you started but Yoongi knew better to cut you off early and derail your train of thought before it arrived at the station.

He cupped his hands around your flustered cheeks, his cooling touch bringing relief to the blistering hot skin that began to rise with your heartbeat.

“Do you know how absolutely phenomenal these past few months have been?” Articulating his words in unison with his heartfelt gaze, his thumbs stroked over your cheeks softly, assuring you wholeheartedly with the fewest words he could.

“I know how much pressure you put on yourself, but I also know how much more you love playing the piano,” he spoke soothingly. “Don’t think about them or messing up. Hell, don’t even think about sticking to what we fixed and picked on during practice.”

He brought you into his arms, making you lean onto his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat that thumped through his shirt. “Think about enjoying it to the point of not having any regrets. Of what it feels like while you play. Think about how you love it unconditionally through thick and thin, and how you wouldn’t give up anything in the world to let it go.”

His words flowed like a stream in your head, smoothing over the rocky slopes of your worries and fears and replacing them with ripples of passion and confidence. Just as you pressed a kiss to his lips, the stage coordinator signaled to you with a frantic wave. It was your turn.

Yoongi held onto your hands tightly for just a moment before giving you a small grin and going to find a seat in the audience. You took a deep breath. You only had one chance at this; you were going to make it count.

Taking even-paced steps onto the stage, you closed your eyes and murmured a wordless prayer to whoever might be listening. Whether that’d be the piano gods themselves or the ibuprofen coursing through your bloodstream and numbing your nerves, it didn’t matter. You needed to play for you.

Not hesitating or wasting any more valuable seconds, your fingers brushed the cold keys, a sudden rush of eagerness filling your previously buzzing nerves. Your muscle memory activated like the flick of a light switch, the soft melody of the beginning exposition filling the echoey stage all the way to the back of the concert hall.

Your fingers stroked the keys with such accuracy and precision, nailing each of the complex chords with ease. The development was coming up next. Changing your tempo from the quick-paced and exciting beginning to a mellow and even-toned pace, a pre-recorded track suddenly flooded through the onstage speakers but you didn’t have time to react.

You could recognize that beat from a million miles away.

It was the same solemn tune that Yoongi was playing in the studio that night alone; same melodic chorus, orchestral strings, deep bass, and right down to the synth pad that started towards the end of the section. The flowing melody and tempo blended with your playing harmoniously, producing a euphonious sound that pushed you to play with more urgency and passion.

The unexpected harmony made you smile, on the verge of tears as you could only comprehend one message that rang as clear as a bell: he wrote this for you.

Before you knew it, you were already finished with the last recapitulation, the final remaining notes trailing off gently into what you assumed would be the end of the track, like that night, but it didn’t stop. It continued into another excerpt that melded perfectly with the coda you’d composed; vibrant, fuller, lively, vivid, and colorful—happy.

The full-bodied and adagio resonance of Yoongi’s composed track with what sounded like a philharmonic orchestra and synth board contrasted like day and night from your constantly moving fingers. High off of the adrenaline of playing and euphoria of music, you paid no attention to the burning that had spread in your fingers during the first two minutes of the piece, instead choosing to bask in the utter state of bliss you were in.

The track slowed down in sync with your playing, toning down the fast-paced and riveting chorus that had reverberated through the room seconds ago and replacing with it with the delicate and gentle closing notes that finished the piece.

It was over. You did it.

A momentary pause enveloped the auditorium, silence washing over the audience like a crashing tide. Your fingers were resting on the keys for a second before a roar of applause replaced the dead silent concert hall.

You did it.

The panel of teachers were all standing on their feet, their warm smiles and nods of approval and continuous claps almost making tears trail down your cheeks. Looking around the crowd of people to try and find Yoongi, a finger gently tapped your shoulder, making you turn around with glassy eyes.

There he stood in all his gummy cheesiness, smiling his heart out. You sniffled, unable to hold back the tidal wave of tears that overwhelmed you as you burst into sobs and threw yourself into the safety of his arms. Enveloping you into his ever-warm and comforting embrace, he pressed soft kisses on the crown of your head, keeping you secure in his hold. Refusing to pull away even for a brief moment, he stroked your hair soothingly, urging you to take your time to breathe.

Sniffling once more, you managed to croak out a word or two. “When? How? Why—” you couldn’t finish before breaking into tears. You were a mess.

Even though the entire auditorium was still filled with the continuous applause and praise from the audience, Yoongi leaned down and chose to whisper into your ear. “I told you. Ever since that night when I saw you in the studio alone…” You could practically feel the happy smile that danced across his voice.

It was the first dream you didn’t have to wake up from.

It was real.

All of this was real.

The first thing you did after finishing your presentation was sprint like a marathon runner to the dressing rooms and change out of your quote on quote, “formal” attire. Consisting of a pair of black dress pants and frilly blouse with heels, your feet screamed in relief when you changed to your usual outfit of straight-cut jeans, oversized sweater, and frayed sneakers.

Yoongi handed you a bouquet of flowers as you strode victoriously out of the concert hall to the stairwell at which he was waiting. You widened your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure that this was still real life.

“Is this a practical joke or rom-com gesture?” you giggled, accepting the arrangement of dark red roses, lemon leaves, white snapdragons, and baby’s breath buds. He went the extra mile by personally requesting a gold ribbon to be weaved through each of the rose buds, making a sentimental warmth spread throughout your chest. Breathing in the fresh scent of the flora, the earthy and undeniably pleasant scent filled your airways.

Yoongi’s lips quirked in a shy grin and hid his gummy smile, rubbing the back of his head like he always did when he was apprehensive about something.

“I figured I missed out on doing this on our first official date,” he shrugged as his tongue caught on the unused word. “So, I felt like surprising you on our twenty-something official one. And I might have snuck in a slice or few of cake in your fridge... ”

Your jaw dropped to the floor. His face shifted back into the cheesy Chesire Cat grin you adored before humming a soft ‘ah’ and pausing his steps to reach for something in his bag. Was there anything that could make this day any better?

Fishing through his disarray of loose papers and crumpled notes that decorated his bag, he pulled out a box that had miraculously not gotten squished or dented inside. It was wrapped in rose gold colored polka-dot wrapping paper and adorned with yet, another glittery gold ribbon tied into a neat bow.

Making a shy face at the extensive detail, you carefully tugged on the end of the ribbon as flecks of glitter flew up in the air, the knot coming undone with ease. Yoongi offered his hand out to hold it.

Smiling, you moved onto the wrapping paper. Trying your best to peel it by the tape because you hated to tear it and make a mess, you finally got to the box. You pulled to top off to reveal another layer of tissue paper. A fluffy bundle of fabric was folded neatly underneath, making you take on a puzzled frown. When you took them out and unfolded them, you couldn’t muffle the gasp that escaped.

A pair of fuzzy mittens with a matching beanie.

“Yoongi...” you gawked. Rubbing over the feathery light, cozy fabric, he was still smiling widely at you, feeling pure happiness at seeing you so overjoyed from a pair of mittens.

Taking the bouquet, crumpled wrapping paper, and empty box from your hands, he set them down on the ledge beside the stairs. He first put the fluffy tasseled beanie on your head and smoothed out your baby hairs. Then, he rubbed your already-cold hands for a couple seconds to warm them up before sliding the plush gloves on.

“I don’t like it when you’re cold…” he said softly, rubbing circles over the tops of your hands through the wooly fabric. Cupping his cheeks with your warm and well-circulating hands, you pressed a single deep kiss onto his readily puckered lips.

“Your room or mine?” His breath grazed your pink lips, a distinct warmth emanating from his body compared to the crisp winds that blew against the pair of you.

Biting your lip at his query, you shoved his shoulder teasingly. He already knew the answer.

Making out and walking backward was anything but a non-hazardous concoction. You practically topped over the door ledge while walking into Yoongi’s dorm, continuing to stumble over the bumps and dents in the poorly boarded floor. He managed to pull off his shirt and unbuckle his belt before shoving you onto the bed, and you only made it to the zipper of your jeans before landing on your back with a soft thud.

Caging you in between his forearms, he reunited his mouth with yours in a heated and feverish kiss. You captured the delicate of his lower lip between your teeth, nipping, tugging, and sucking on it to tease and satiate him for the time being. You had the whole weekend for yourselves.

His eyebrows furrowed as he couldn’t resist anymore and gave into his body’s demands. Grinding his clothed member into your aching center, you moaned at how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. Satisfaction and adrenaline surged through you and you couldn’t help but be the least bit proud at the fact that only you had this effect on each other. Undeniable lust triggered by unconditional love, aided with consistent support and mutual understanding; a thing so many people craved but so few had the ability to cultivate.

Yoongi let out a husky growl when your hands tangled into his dark hair, gripping firmly at his scalp and trailing down his bare back. Although your nails were trimmed short, they still left red lines down the defined ridges of his shoulders and back as he moaned into your mouth at the sensation.

Grasping you by the roots of your hair, he maneuvered your head to bare your neck to him, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses at the exposed and delicate skin. Nipping teasingly at the junction of your ear and pulse point, he bared his teeth in a grin before sucking a deep purple bruise into the skin, causing a rush of arousal to flow down your thighs.

“Yoongi,” you moaned out hoarsely. His pouty lips continued trailing down your neck before stopping, giving you to a moment to hastily take off your sweater and throw it mindlessly onto the floor. You’ll pick it up later. He licked his lips at the sight of you in all your beauty, pressing a soft kiss to the dip of your collarbone. He couldn’t help it when his lips instantly attached to your breast, massaging the other with his hand and lapping at your nipple skillfully. Moving onto the neglected side, you arched your back into his firm erection when he grazed his teeth over the sensitive nub.

Another gush of wetness flooded your thighs as you rubbed your legs together instinctually at the dampness. Yoongi noticed this like a hawk, eyeing your every movement keenly. Smirking, he slid down your unbuttoned jeans with one firm tug, swiftly yanking the loose-fitting pants down like a candy wrapper, except this sweet treat was one he could never get enough of. The best part? He didn’t have to worry about cavities.

Taking a moment to admire the string of arousal that trailed from your core to the string of your thong as he pulled them off, he gulped, saliva pooling in his mouth at the mere thought of lapping up all of your juices. His sculpted fingers rubbed small circles over your drenched folds, bringing the arousal coated digits to his mouth for a taste. He couldn’t wait another second.

Yoongi delved face first into your center, not caring to clean up the trail of wetness that painted your thighs beforehand. His cheeks were coated with your essence and he licked up as much as he could, his entire mouth cupping over your core in a desperate attempt to hear your delectable moans that spurred him on. Hearing your vocal sobs and whines of pleasure made him moan as you gripped his hair, the vibrations of his gruff voice making your body tingle with even more pleasure. It was a never-ending cycle of mutual pleasure.

You were in absolute heaven. Alternating the use of tender flat-edge of his warm tongue with the firm tip, you could’ve pulled a muscle in your back from how much you were contorting into the bed. Each time he sucked harshly at your swollen clit, it forced out a euphoric cry from you, teetering amidst the peak of your pleasure and the brink of startling ecstasy.

You tried to be gentle with his hair, but when you pulled your hands away from his tangled mess of locks, he growled in disapproval, immediately demanding that you return your hands to where they were by moving away from your aching core and biting at your thighs.

You wanted so badly to take his throbbing and dripping cock into your mouth. You salivated at the utter thought of it and it sent another stream of arousal down your thighs and into Yoongi’s mouth. Two fingers slowly stretched you out, pumping deliciously into your tight heat in sync with the flick and suckle of his tongue as it produced a high-pitched gasp from you.

His free hand came up to knead your breast, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipple agonizingly slow. He gazed into you with jet black pupils, a carnal aura surrounding his every breath, leaving you with no choice but to surrender to him willingly. He continued sucking at your clit while curling and pumping his long fingers into your heat at the perfect pace, earning a drawled-out moan from you each time. His dick twitched against the straining fabric of his boxers, begging for some kind of attention, but Yoongi ignored it.

Tonight, it was all about you and he was going to make sure you knew that.

The obscene sounds of his tongue working relentlessly against your drenched and throbbing pussy made you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood in a feeble attempt to drown out your moans. As he pinned your hips down with his forearm, his fingers suddenly changed pace, moving faster and curling deliciously against your tight walls. His mouth wrapped over your clit and fingers began pumping furiously, the bursting pressure of your peak shattering like glass with one last suck.

“Fuck, Yoongi!” you exclaimed, grinding into his mouth during the first few moments of your high to ride it out as long as possible. Feeling like a boneless pile of jelly from your staggering orgasm, you felt him smile against your dripping center, lapping up your flowing juices like an oasis in a desert. Your clit throbbed from the remnants of the overwhelming pleasure gifted to you by his talented tongue. By the time he was done, the only evidence that you had just had the best orgasm of your life was only visible on his face, his chin completely drenched in your essence.

Yoongi licked over his lips and swiped over his chin with his thumb to collect the remnants, popping his finger into his mouth to savor the taste he could never get enough of. His forehead glistened with a light sheen of sweat, chest rising and falling visibly from the effort he had just spent. How did he still have the stamina for more?

Lost in the blissed-out haze that came from your high, you chuckled lazily, still swimming an orgasm-induced trance. You’d never came like that before and you were more than sure you’d never be able to without the help of Yoongi. Smiling drunkenly as your post-orgasm blush dispersed along your face, a soft giggle left your lips when Yoongi hovered over you before flipping you over.

Lying on top of him, your hands ran down the svelte muscles of his chest and abs as you tasted yourself on his lips, the remaining wetness that spread over his chin coating yours in an act that was too sinful for you not to relive in the years to come. Literally.

Your mouths tangled in a fervent kiss full of desperation and need, running your hands over his toned body without any logical thought. The faintly metallic but not too bitter taste of yourself on his tongue made another pool of arousal stream down your folds. The pleasure was all yours now.

Before you scooted down to his desperately throbbing member, you made sure to appreciate the beauty that was Yoongi. You captured the delicate flesh of his vascular neck between your teeth and sucked blooming marks into the delicate skin, grinning in satisfaction when they mirrored yours but were half the size.

Nosing at the skin beneath his ear where his pulse pounded like the delicate wings of a hummingbird, your exhaling breath tickled the shell of his ear, making him let out the barest hint of a giggle. Tugging on the small hoop earring that decorated his ear lobe with your teeth for a sweet moment, you moved back to his torso.

Tracing across the picturesque sketch of his abs and the V-line that led down his pelvis, his skin felt hot beneath your lips, evidence that his blood was rushing just as much as yours had been not too long ago.

You forced out a grunt from him when you palmed his hard length through his unbuckled jeans, wasting no time and pulling the thick fabric down along with this cotton briefs. His immaculate length sprung up against his stomach with a soft slap, the head of his cock red and oozing precum. Rubbing over the dripping slit with your fingertip, his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets so hard. He couldn’t think straight.

“_____,” he begged, Adam’s apple bobbing to expose his dewy neck. The glossy sheen that glossed over his entire upper body made your body hum with pure desire. He was so perfect…

You rubbed over the head of his cock a few more times just for the sheer satisfaction of watching a bead of precum form at his tip and pool around your index finger. Placing your now-glistening fingertip in your mouth, you hummed at the musky taste that coated your tongue. Without teasing any longer, you finally pumped his throbbing cock, licking down the length for more lubrication while trying to focus on his head.

“Fucking–God, _____,” he choked out through a guttural moan. With clenched teeth and hands now tangled in your hair, he didn’t have to guide you as you went to work pleasuring him. “Fuck.” He was like putty in your hands, melting into a pool of boiling hot magma with one single touch.

Stroking the base of his cock while you bobbed up and down the upper half, he jolted with the pace at which you were going. Your tongue swirled around his sensitive head and into his slit every few seconds, making him writhe in absolute ecstasy.

Yoongi let out a carnal growl, pulling you up by your arms up and up to his body. He cupped his hands your ass while his mouth locked onto yours in another deep kiss, exploring your mouth with a hunger he only possessed when he was with you; one that no matter how much time passed, would never be satiated.

Massaging your pillow-like cheeks with his firm grasp, you both moaned into each other’s mouths when your dripping wet slit found his dick. With the feeling of your slick pussy grinding over his bare length and your hands raking through his disheveled head of hair, Yoongi almost came right there.

This was completely different than the first night you two had spent together. The first time was entirely filled with sinful lust, primal hunger, and frantic passion. It resulted in a battle of teeth clashing against tongues, bruising grips, and hasty eagerness, allowing neither of you to feel the full extent of your deepest desires.

However, the deeper you fell in love with each other and the greater time you spent in each other’s company, sex became less about the physically pleasurable aspect and more about the raw emotional and near-spiritual bond you felt while connected.

Legs and arms entwined in a mess of tangled limbs; sticky bodies glistening with sweat; his hair sticking to his forehead and yours strung across his damp chest; the soft puffs of faint panting and the warmth of your bodies wound tightly against each other that lulled you into the best slumber you could possibly ask for. That was what you loved more than anything. The total submission of your barest state exposed in all its vulnerability and your mutual ability to look after one other unconditionally was more than you could ever ask for. He was yours, and you were his.

Yoongi’s hands ran over your shoulders and the small of your back, reuniting them with the plush pillows of your ass, admiring your rosy flushed face with awe.

“You’re so beautiful…” he said in a quiet voice, afraid that if he spoke with valor that you’d vanish like an illusion conjured by his deepest desires.

Calming down your heavy breathing, you placed a hand against his beating heart, the pronounced thumping of it underneath your fingertips causing goosebumps to scatter down the back of your neck. He placed one of his hands over yours while the other found your free one, cupping it against one of his cheeks tenderly. Nosing the delicate skin where your wrist met its socket, he inhaled gently, drinking in the feel of your soft skin against his.

Your fingers traced over the hollows of his cheekbones, marveling at how he appeared more beautiful than a millennium-old sculpture. You always took the time to admire and cherish every part of his body and his eyes were no exception. The deep-set and piercing gaze you had first feared was now a sight you hated to part with. Running alongside the hairs that stuck to his forehead, your focus settled on his lips, smiling heartily before pressing a slow and patient kiss to them.

“I love you so much, Yoongi,” you whispered against his mouth, earning you a smile back.

He clasped your hands tightly, pressing fluttery kisses to the tops of your knuckles before locking his gaze onto you. “I love you, _____...” He spoke in a hush like he was keeping a secret, you name rolling off of his tongue like a sacred hymn he held closest to his heart.

Studying the darkened gaze that cast over his eyes, your instincts clawed at you. “I need you inside me now, Yoongi.” Your voice came out in a whining sob, begging him to take you.

Slowly sitting down to guide his member into your aching heat, he kissed you with even more urgency and passion than you thought was possible, basking in the feeling of you consuming each other through the linking of your bodies as he buried himself hilt deep.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight for me,” he hissed. Dirty talk wasn’t really something you two prided yourselves in, preferring to voice your desires through physical actions alone, but you sure as hell didn’t have any complaints about it. It always seemed to come naturally for both of you and ended up sounding like praise rather than command.

Your velvety walls wrapped around his thick length and made him twitch inside of you. Grinding into his hips from your dominant position, Yoongi nestled his head into your chest as he began pounding into you mercilessly, all while paying equal attention to your sensitive bundles of nerves on your breasts.

Words weren’t needed to direct each other when you knew one other like clockwork; every kink, erogenous zones, sensitive spots—especially pace.

He leaned back onto the wall and lifted you by your hips, allowing you to hover over him at an angle that made him drive into a spot deep inside of you and gasp. “Oh my God, Yoongi, right there!” Your moans turned into pants and sobs of overwhelming delight at the deeper angle at which he was filling you.

A drop of sweat beaded at Yoongi’s furrowed brows, his tense expression a result of him also feeling the torturously delicious feeling of you encasing him. He couldn’t hold back for much longer and neither could you.

“Yoongi,” you warned, feeling your walls tense with each additional thrust he managed to power through his growing exhaustion, not from the physical act of relentless thrusting, but from the pure willpower he was exerting from holding his orgasm back. Your nails dug deep crescent half-moons into the ridges of his shoulders while his fingers pressed blossoming bruises into your hips, reminding you to gawk at them later.

Feeling your tense body, Yoongi used up the last remaining bits of his energy to pound into you furiously, exerting as much force as he had left. A sharp intake of breath came from deep inside his chest when you came around him without further warning, your unbelievably tight and utterly drenched cunt clenching around his cock and making him finish not a second later.

Bottoming out completely before sliding out and back in, it was almost too much when he continued hammering into you at a slower pace, his pulsating member shooting continuous spurts of hot cum deep into your heat. With his teeth bared in a silent snarl and your mouth parted in euphoria, you rolled your hips over his a few more times before collapsing on top of him, his spent cock still somehow twitching and filling your heat with thick spurts.

Yoongi’s eyes were half-lidded and dazed from his equally powerful orgasm. Staying inside of you for a few more seconds to ensure that as much of his cum remained inside of you as possible, you yelped when he slid out and replaced his cock with his hand, cupping your cunt to prevent any from seeping out. You giggled lightly at his concentrated face when he flipped you onto your back.

He also took great pleasure in scissoring your mixed fluids together between his fingers and bringing them up to his lips for a taste; another one of his post-sex habits. Curling into your drenched lips to scoop out more of the unholy mixture, you didn’t need to ask as he slid his coated fingers into your mouth, swiping over your readily cupped tongue as the evidence of your releases slicked down your throat.

“Kinky...” you giggled, running his fingertips along your lips before pecking them.

Yoongi gave you a half-parted gummy grin and chuckled. “You love me more for it.”

Completely spent, he kissed you deeply before he climbed into the covers, comfortably nestling his head into the valley of your breasts and nosing the soft skin. You cradled his head and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of his frizzy hair, raking through the messy knots with your fingertips. His exhaling breaths grew soft, indicating that he was on the verge of falling asleep.

Even though he mumbled the words into your chest, you broke into a heartwarming smile at his entirely too pure personality and held him in the security of your embrace. “I love you, _____.”

There it was again: your name.

It never sounded as good as it did unless it flowed from his lips.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you whispered, your soft whisper lulling him into a deep slumber as his eyes drooped shut while his steady breaths coaxed you into the darkness of sleep as well.

It was real.

Some time in the near future...

You woke up to an empty bed, frowning in confusion instantly at the cold sheets that greeted you. Where was Yoongi? Almost as soon as you had asked the question, the smell of bacon and fried eggs filled your nostrils, making your mouth water.

Throwing your legs over the bed and climbing out of the disheveled bundle of sheets, you threw on one of Yoongi’s wrinkled shirts over your bare body, smiling sheepishly at how it draped over your thighs and stopped right above your knees. Brushing your teeth and rinsing your face in a record amount of time, you made your way to the kitchen and were greeted by the amusing sight of Yoongi dancing to the playlist you used when cleaning your room.

Jumping around like a maniac, he was too absorbed in his dancing and oil-spattering bacon to notice you leaning on the counter. With a cheeky grin gracing your face, Yoongi’s eyes bulged out of their sockets when he saw you. Clearing his throat harshly, you broke into a bright fit of laughter at how bashful he was. Was that what you looked like when he caught you dancing in your room?

“Good morning,” you giggled, nibbling the corner of your lip to hold back a snort.

Yoongi turned off the stovetop with the click of a knob, plating the hot food onto your dishes. “Good morning,” he played off cooly. Carrying the two plates to the small dining table, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before setting them down.

“Happy Anniversary,” he exclaimed, returning to you to give you a proper kiss. Smiling onto his lips, you laced your arms around him as he wrapped his around your waist.

You scowled playfully but broke into a smile. “A little birdy told me a while ago that anniversaries were stupid…” you hummed jokingly, referring to the surprise you gifted him a year after you started dating. It was just a handwritten card and matching set of hoodies, but Yoongi let it slip that he thought regular anniversaries were cheesy and a little cringeworthy.

But he wholeheartedly appreciated your gift though, refusing to wear anything other than that exact hoodie for the majority of his classes. Often times, he asked you with puppy eyes and a pout to wear yours—even on some days when it was 80 degrees outside.

“Must have been a really drunk bird then,” he shrugged. You weren’t terribly hurt by his statement that night because you truly did understanding where he was coming from. Those couples who had hebdomadal anniversaries did, in fact, make you want to gag. Anniversaries in your mind were supposed to be reserved for monumental occasions and milestones, not as petty excuses to receive stupidly expensive gifts from each other.

You beamed, pecking his lips once more. “Mhm, not a very cute peeper either.” Your comment made Yoongi raise an eyebrow, nuzzling his mouth into your neck and blowing raspberries against your skin until you surrendered.

“Okay, okay, okay!” you gave up, choking your submission through joyous laughter. “Let’s eat, Yoongi!” Eyes lighting up in victory, he pulled out your chair for you before sitting down himself.

“Happy Anniversary, Yoongi,” you chuckled, lips forming into a loving grin at the gummy smile that blessed his sparkling eyes.

Reaching over the table to hold your hands and rub comforting circles into them, he blinked slowly, imprinting a picture-perfect snapshot of this moment in his long-term memory for years to come. “Happy Anniversary, _____,” he beamed.

“Are you sure about this, Yoongi?” you asked cautiously, rubbing his hands in the hopes of soothing his buzzing nerves. “We don’t have to do this today…”

He pressed his lips into a firm line and nodded, keeping his eyes glued on the black and white keys that lie before him. “I’m ready.”

Releasing his hands from your grasp, you patted them softly before letting them hover over the keys. Not having touched a piano since before the accident, the unfamiliar cold feeling of the wood made Yoongi’s breath hitch in his throat.

His fingers suddenly started to shake as bile rose in his throat and his face went pale, turning colorless enough to make the piano keys look off-white in comparison. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like epoxy glue and felt heavier than a cement block. With his pupils dilated dangerously wide and beads of sweat forming along his hairline, his throat closed up, restricting his airflow.

Your eyes widened immediately, alarmed at his visceral reaction as he snatched his hands away from the keys and couldn’t bear to face the instrument for another second.

“I ca—I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do it,” he choked, shaking his head vigorously while hiccuping, trying to take in breaths of air as he began drowning in the memories that suddenly poured in.

You cupped the sides of his face and smoothed your fingers over his tear-stained cheeks gently. “Yoongi—look at me.” Shutting his eyes tightly, more droplets of his painful memories trailed down as his hands shook, the pads of his fingers squeezing coin-sized bruises into your forearms.

“Look at me,” you said more firmly the second time. Opening his eyes slowly with shaky eyelids, he swallowed the lump in his throat before making direct eye contact with you. “I’m here, okay? I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I’m right here with you, Yoongi.”

Relaxing his grip, his fingers that were pressing into your skin moments ago slowly began rubbing small circles into your forearms, soothing the numbing pressure as your blood began to circulate again.

“I’m so—,” he sobs choking on his tears, your lulling shushes helping his breathing calm down and slow. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—” His repetitive please continued into mumbled whispers.

As he continued to mutter his robotic sayings, you soon realized that he wasn’t apologizing only to you—he was apologizing to himself.

“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you whispered, allowing his head to fall into the crook of your neck as his tears left trailed down your chest, leaving a glistening trail of wetness that made your eyes sting with your own tears. Your heart shattered seeing him in such a state of distress, but all you could do was murmur softly into his hair while his shoulders continued to shake.

This too was real.

“Bach Invention No. 8 already?” you gawked. “Yoongi, how?”

He shrugged, shoulders rising up to his ears in humble yet clearly visible accomplishment.

“You were playing Hanon a few weeks ago, what are you putting in your cereal?” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief and awe at his consistently growing skills.

“I had a pretty great teacher,” he smiled warmly, patting the seat beside him and inviting you to sit down. Shaking your head at his lively and glowing image, you set down your two cups and made yourself comfortable.

It had been nine steady months since Yoongi had composed himself to start playing again and it would be a lie to say that it hadn’t been a time-consuming process. Slowly but surely through tears, overwhelming breakdowns, neverending hours, long nights, and emotional outpours, Yoongi’s natural instinct and eagle-eye muscle memory kicked in, aiding his subconscious breaking down the mental barrier he had formed since the accident.

The first few months were a struggle as he was stuck in his own head and high expectations. He stayed up constantly trying to master the most basic warm-up exercises, refusing to give up until he knew it by heart. Even during the deepest pitfalls of exhaustion, you stuck by him, likewise refusing to leave his side until he was half-asleep and drooling on the keys.

You, on the other hand, had finally gotten around to accepting physical therapy, regular check-ups, and after four years of putting it off, had your prescription officially signed off by your doctor.

The short-span of your potential professional career was inevitable, but you processed and accepted the outlook better than you did when you were first diagnosed. You had grown up since then. You weren’t a young, naïve, immature, want-it-all child anymore; you were just you, and that was more than enough. Life wasn’t about doing as much as you could for the quantity in hopes of happiness, but rather for the quality of happiness that you were living with what you could accomplish to your heart’s extent.

“Why not 13?” you asked curiously, referring to the piece that was in the solemn and dark minor key. Yoongi’s lips curled into a sheepish grin, sensing where you were going with your question.

“Major keys are nicer to listen to,” he mumbled. Fumbling with your fingers in his lap as he usually did when he felt the need for a distraction. “Minor scales are too depressing.”

Nodding your head in agreeance with his response, a soft chuckle reverberated from deep inside his chest. You gave him a comical eyebrow raise. He brought your hands to his cheek for what felt like the millionth time in the span of your relationship, leaning into your easing and tranquilizing touch as he melted in your hands.

After years of ignoring the adverse effect of your struggling circulation, the effort you dedicated last year in looking after your health had paid off; your hands were finally warm. All the more inviting for Yoongi to cup them around his plush cheeks. A healthy diet, consistent sleeping schedule, and regular hikes up to the viewpoint with Yoongi really went a long way in terms of lifestyle.

Thinking over his words, he shook his head rightfully so. “There are too many good things in life to do instead of drowning in that kind of ocean…” His kissed the top of your hand as his eyes met yours in a stare that radiated unconditional affection, complete fondness, and total selfless love.

Life was, in fact, too good to spend it wasting away in the shadows.

Some time further in the future...

Shuffling through the array of papers that littered the desk, you were seconds away from ripping your hair out. How were you going to do this? You started with the syllabus. That was probably the first step in starting a lecture, right? Then the expectations for the class? Goals? Learning outcomes?

God, were you even speaking English at this point? The abrupt buzz of your phone alarm snapped you out of your thoughts instantly. As crowds of students in what seemed like the hundreds flooded the lecture hall within seconds, you started to panic. Anxiety flooded your throat like thick smoke, forcing you to gulp a hiccup down. A gentle nudge on your shoulder caused you to turn around, coming into the view of none other than Yoongi.

“You okay?” His eyes voiced concern, eyebrows turned downwards as he studied your face with flowing sympathy.

You nodded, pressing your lips into a tight line. “Fine. Fine. All fine. Everything’s great.” Your speech flowed out like dreaded word vomit.

Yoongi rubbed your shoulder to ease your rippling waves of uneasiness, trying to relieve your bubbling apprehension. “Powell asked us to sub his class for a reason, _____. “Don’t doubt yourself. You’ll be amazing and I’ll be right by your side to help,” he convinced. “Okay?”

Swallowing down the sheet of sandpaper that lined your throat, you nodded.

The students were now fully seated and quiet, the soft hums of a few sorting through their bags and pulling out their laptops. The sea of L.E.D. apples and brightly lit block print logos made you nauseous. Once they were all settled, you cleared your throat.

“Thank you all for coming to today’s class,” you greeted with as much authority in your voice you could muster. “My name is _____, and this is Yoongi.” Pausing to direct your attention to him, he tipped his chin up lazily, reminding you of the first day you’d encountered him in a setting much like this one. Your eyes softened at the reminiscent memories. Time flies...

“We will be substituting for Professor Powell, as he is out sick for the week,” you explained.

A few scattered hollers and applause were heard from parts of the hall, making Yoongi shoot you a smug grin. You frowned quizzically for a brief moment before shrugging it off. “As former graduates ourselves, we are very aware of the immense pressure Professor Powell puts on you as first years in the graduate division. Trust me.” You turned your body to Yoongi, signaling him with a small nod. “We’ve both been there.”

He chuckled, taking the reins of the conversation smoothly while you began handing out the syllabus for the final project. “Powell might have discussed this project with you last semester or you might have heard legends about it from your upper classmates while you were freshmen.”

Yoongi didn’t bother using the title of “Professor” before he spoke, making some students gasp audibly. His voice was the epitome of confidence, self-assurance and clarity coating his voice like velvet as he articulated his words with consistency.

“The syllabus that is being handed out to you explains the details of your final project. Your partners have been chosen for you and will not, under any circumstance, be altered to fit your personal preference.”

Whispers spread across the entire room like a swarm of bees, students gasping and mumbling, appalled as they analyzed each detail written on the page. Your echoing clap silenced into their incessant grumbles. That seemed to grab their attention.

“As Professor Powell has said multiple times prior to the start of this semester and I’m sure as far back as your undergraduate days.” A grin formed on your lips and you glanced over at Yoongi, who was already smirking and staring back at you with his lip in between his teeth. “The audience needs to see who you are through the music; experience your deepest memories, feel your deepest pain, and live through your life up until this point.”

“You’ll laugh, cry, scream, and want to rip each other apart with your bare hands,” Yoongi added on with conviction in his voice, standing up straight and no longer leaning against the wall. “But above all the setbacks and obstacles, you’ll come out as stronger musicians and even better artists.”

“Complain and fail. Choose to work independently from each other and that implies that you are working against one other,” you noted. “You are there to help each other through difficult times, not leave the other person hanging when things get tough.”

Yoongi sighed. “It sucks, we know.” He glanced at you thoughtfully, a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips. “But we promise it’ll be worth it.”

At this, a student in the front row raised her hand, a wide-eyed curiosity glinting from her eyes. You smiled and gave her the cue to speak. “By chance, you guys aren’t the seniors who passed this same assignment with a full grade four years ago, are you?” Her naïve and self-answering question made you and Yoongi look to each other knowingly, embarrassed and honored that the rumor was still flying about, alive and well as ever. “You two are like living legends!”

The class erupted into another wave of applause and gasps, sounding like a sound effect out of a comedy club’s built-in soundboard.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he chuckled, leaning his head to one side and side-eyeing you lightheartedly. You also found yourself blushing and chuckling awkwardly, sighing as you avert your eyes to anywhere but the crowd of eyes glued onto you and him.

“It’s kind of a funny story…” you hummed.

“Why did you start liking me?” you asked. Lying down on the blanket that was strewn on top of the grass, Yoongi shifted beside you, admiring the spot on the viewpoint he picked out. The view of the campus never ceased to take your breath away.

The longest three seconds of your life passed before you turned on your side and he peeled his eyes away from the dim sky, redirecting his gaze to you. Taking your hands into his, the edges of his lips curled into the tiniest smile, staring thoughtfully at the sight he had never imagined in his wildest dreams would be here right in front of him.

“Because you gave me everything I could ever ask for without wanting anything in return, and I don’t deserve it.” His words flowed like ink from a fountain pen, soaking through the pages that bound your love for him.

Pausing before continuing, you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he had to say next.

“It’s like you’re too good to be real. Here. In front of me.” he clasped your hands tighter. “I still feel like don’t deserve you.” At this sudden confession, his tense expression softened. “Like I’m not enough for you...”

The dark and piercing stare you used to cower in fear at had now revealed itself to be the only one you knew that was full of vulnerability and as delicate as a glass menagerie. They were eyes you had grown fond of, admired, and more than anything—wholeheartedly and unequivocally loved.

Running his thumb over your cheek, you cupped over his hand in response, making your heart flutter at the delicate flush that spread across his face.

“Min Yoongi...” you sighed as your eyes began to form budding tears. Shaking your head while trying to hold back the painful smile that threatened to escape, you took a deep breath.

The lump in your throat returned tenfold when you looked up and saw that his eyes were glued onto yours, his deep brown orbs watering with glassy tears and lip quivering with the infinite ocean of amour he felt for you. You had already fallen in too deep to drown.

All these years later and you still made each other’s hearts race like a soaring kite.

Whether it was from the cold or the bursting dam of repressed emotions, it didn’t matter. You cupped both sides of his face and brought his forehead to yours, pressing lightly and maintaining contact so that you were trapped directly in-line of each other’s eyes. You couldn’t help but smile and allow a tear to trail down your cheek when his hands cupped over yours.

“You’re right. You aren’t just anything to me,” you whispered, your voice near barely audible to anyone except Yoongi. “You are absolutely everything I could ever ask for and more.

Yoongi swallowed the rush of nostalgia that flooded his mind and closed up his throat. “I have never in my entire life met someone who comes close to how you understand me, wait for me, and push me through my bad days,” he croaked through blurry eyes.

You sniffled, brimming tears finally spilling like the puddles of your youth you once basked in. “You make me the happiest and the best person I can be, and I love you more than anything else in this entire world...”

“And I promise that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way.” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he finally spoke, completing your words like the last piece of a puzzle fitting perfectly in its place.

His words and soft lips sealed a kiss on your forehead, your eyes fluttering softly at the ardor you felt only while in his warmth. You kissed him back, the saltiness of your mingled tears leaving watercolor thin streaks down both of your cheeks.

Words would never be enough to express the bond you and him shared. He could only pray to whoever was listening that you felt it as strongly as he did, and you for him.

A song composed with no more than the painful memories of your past, tender youth of the present, and limitlessly unbound fate of your future, your paths entwined with the string of fate and aria had brought you together to this exact moment in time.

Passionless pursuit in the chase for perfection; a journey filled with sorrows in the hopes of leading to the smallest sliver of happiness; an outcome neither of you had expected to come to fruition in your wildest and most distant dreams.

Everything else is arbitrary. Happiness through the darkest of times stemming from the willingness to fight and determination to be happy—that is what you made your lives out to be.

The faint glint of the rings you both bore reflected against the lamp post bulbs, an even brighter light emitting from both of your smiles. Had it already been a year since he’d asked for your hand? Yoongi’s fingers ran over the engraved metal, tracing the near-microscopic words that were etched into the band. You did the same with his, the loop of silver feeling cool against your fingertips.

It was real.

This was real.

972 notes · View notes

chimchimchoo · 6 years

Text

Fly Me to the Moon :: Ch 8

Genre: Pure fluff crack

Word Count: 28,636

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Collaborated with @tayvengeance

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

“CHEER UP THIS SAD, EMO BOY!”

02-222-3333

Jimin stared at the note on the bathroom wall for a solid 5 minutes before he pulled out his phone and typed in the number.

authors note: we do not own any of the pictures, for better formatting so it’s more comfortable to read, check it out on AO3! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944508/chapters/36315222 Twitters: Tae’s Sujin’s <3 - Tae & sujin

Prepare yourselves, this is a 28k moNSTER of fluffy goods

**WARNING, mild smut toward the end

Chat With Mochi_Moves:

2016.02.14

08:12

Mochi_Moves:

its the day

where it’s okay to be the most disgustingly

cute and amazing boyfriend to it’s fullest power™

HAPPY

VALENTINES

DAY

I love you Min Yoongi

you complete me

c: c: c: c: c:

also

you’re really fucking hot when you play the piano

just saying

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(i havent stopped thinking about that video since you sent it to me)

(thanks)

SUGA:

Morning, Jimin-ah

love of my life

The Sid to my Nancy

The Sally to my Jack

I’m sorry these are het couples

but

you’re my everything

I love you too

Mochi_Moves:

I cant wait to spend all day

in the hotel

it’ll be so nice to get away from everything

and just be with you

howEVER

tomorrows the big date night

and im even more excited for this

do you wanna hear the big plan i got for us?

SUGA:

LAY IT ON ME, BABY.

(also side note, there is a piano in the lounge that I will

play until I am forcibly removed from it, just for you)

Mochi_Moves:

weLL

i noticed by pure coincidence

that fall out boy was having worldwide concert

and one of the locations was here

tomorrow

so i /may/ have gotten us tickets for it

SUGA:

holy shit

Mochi_Moves:

but afterwards

i got a whole picnic planned out by a park

specially made by Jin because

1. its cheaper

2. he’s an excellent cook

but it’s going to have candles and music

and we can dance under the stars

and it’ll be the most magical thing in the world

SUGA:

I’m not crying

I promise

my eyes are just sweating

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=093GjYcDg-4

Mochi_Moves:

and tHEN

after you made that booking for tonight

and went to the bathroom

i added a second night

because why the hell not c:

c: c: c:

does this plan sound alright?

SUGA:

Jimin, that sounds so damn perfect

I could kiss you

in fact

I WILL kiss you

many many many many times today

because I CAN

In FACT

ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I’LL MAKE LOVE TO YOUUUU

LIKE YOU WANT ME TOOOO

AND I’LL HOLD YOU TIGHT

BABY ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I’LL MAKE LOVE TO YOUUU

WHEN YOU WANT ME TO

AND I WILL NOT LET GO

TILL YOU TELL ME TO

Mochi_Moves:

POUR THE WINE

LIGHT THE FIRE

SUGA:

is my command your wish?

will you submit to my demands?

will you do anything I ask?

Mochi_Moves:

baby tonight is your night

and i will do you right

SUGA:

Okay

so check in is at 3

before that

I made lunch reservations at a nice restaurant

at noon

and I figured as soon as you’re ready for the day, you could just come

over to my place and be with me until lunch

because it’s 8:30 am and I haven’t seen you in like

6 hours

Mochi_Moves:

well heck

where the hell are my pants

and my scarf

and the box of chocolates i may or may not have gotten for you

6 hours is so long

i’m coming over asap

(wow look how Gay™ we are)

SUGA:

God

I’m so whipped for you

***

Yoongi sat his phone down and realized he had a stupid, huge grin plastered onto his face. He couldn’t help himself. Two whole days with Jimin. No, three whole days with Jimin. Without faltering his grin, he got up and put on his date night outfit -- fitted black slacks with a white silk blouse that cut down mid-chest, topped off with a black and white floral jacket and a thick choker. He looked in the mirror and thought he might be going a little overboard but fuck it, he was spending Valentine’s day with Park Jimin -- aka the actual love of his life. And while it was exhilarating to think about, he was actually growing nervous about having sex with Jimin and was overcompensating for his nerves by over dressing.

Not more than five minutes after he had finished getting ready, Yoongi heard the soft rapping of Jimin’s knuckles on the front door, and he thought his heart might explode. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a Jimin imposter. There was no happy, bubbly, soft, sweet boyfriend staring at him, oh no. This Jimin had his hair pushed back and a choker around his neck. He was wearing a black blouse similar to Yoongi’s and tight black pants, complemented by a blue velvet jacket. Yoongi was almost positive that this was not the same boy who was just texting him sappy shit because it’s Valentine’s day. No, this was NOT Park Jimin. Yoongi licked his lips habitually, but also because the man standing in front of him was making his mouth water.

Jimin leaned against the doorframe, biting his lip followed by a wink. “Hey there sexy beast.” He wiggled his eyebrows, using everything he had to hold in his laughter.

On second thought, this 100% was Park Jimin, his complete dork of a boyfriend. Yoongi smiled as his eyes met Jimin’s.

“Hyung!” Jimin screamed as he jumped toward Yoongi, slamming his lips onto his. “Happy Valentines day to the best boyfriend in the whole entire world.” He shoved the glittery heart-shaped box of chocolates in his hands. “Is this cheesy enough for you?”

“I have no idea what ‘this’ is referring to, whether it be your fucking ensemble or the kiss, or the chocolates. BUT I will have you know that I am flattered and extremely turned on,” Yoongi babbled, taking the chocolates and pulling his boyfriend in for another kiss.

“Says the one who went out of their way to wear a silk blouse.” Jimin muttered under his breath.

Yoongi smirked, bringing his lips to Jimin's ear and his voice to a low growl, “I bet our bed sheets will be just as silky smooth against our naked bodies tonight.”

“Ohhhh,” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows dramatically again. “Someone's a little excited. We have a whole day ahead of us though, try to keep your mind out of the gutter for a few hours will you?” He giggled, his eyes turning into their usual crescents.

“Says the one who went out of their way to push their hair back,” Yoongi huffed.

Jimin dramatically flipped his hair with a grin. “But you love it, don’t you? I spent a whole hour trying to gel my hair into place okay, it took every ounce of my effort.”

Yoongi pressed his lips against Jimin’s once more, “Baby, ‘love it’ is an understatement.”

Jimin wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist, holding him closely. “Good thing my efforts didn’t go to waste then.” He took in Yoongi’s appearance, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. He had no words to express how much he loved Yoongi, or how amazing he looked for that matter. He was about to spend three whole days with this man and he couldn’t be happier. “I’d say you look absolutely gorgeous right now, but that too, is an understatement.”

Yoongi chuckled, “We both put too much effort into this. It’s just Valentine’s day for fuckssake.” He pulled Jimin along into the house and shut the door behind him. “But, can I interest you in some of Jin’s freshly baked Valentine’s treats?”

As if on cue, Yoongi heard a door slam open and feet hurriedly make their way to the kitchen. Jin appeared in the area with wildly tousled hair and one of Namjoon’s hoodies on. “I swear to GOD if either of you touch an unfrosted cupcake or cookie, I will decline Jimin’s sweet request to cook you dinner tomorrow.” Namjoon followed behind, munching on an unfrosted cupcake.

Yoongi looked at Jin and Namjoon with a ‘tch’ and crossed his arms over his chest, “First of all why does Namjoon get to eat one, and second of all, why haven’t you frosted anything yet?”

Jin almost looked appalled Yoongi would ask him such a question. Almost. He’s good at being fake. “The answer to both your questions is because I was too preoccupied getting completely fucked by Namjoon to care about frosting anything or the fact that he took unfinished pastries.”

Jimin stifled his laughter as he watched the scene unfold. “They’ve really hit it off since the knife incident, haven’t they?” He muttered towards Yoongi. “Jin-hyung! Since we don’t have any plans until lunch, can I help with the rest of the valentine treats?” Jimin pleaded.

Jin looked over at Jimin with a grin plastered on his face, “Of course, Jimin-ah!” His smile quickly dropped as he looked between Yoongi and Namjoon “You two on the other hand, stay the fuck out of my kitchen.”

Yoongi looked offended, “Excuse me, I have never disrespected your kitchen. Why am I being shunned?”

Jin grabbed his frosting knife and waved it in Yoongi’s direction, “Because I need alone time with my son. Gotta have the talk. You’re already too fargone, but I might be able to spare his innocence. Now the two of you can get the fuck out of here. We’ll call you when the sweets are done.”

Jimin gave Yoongi an innocent wave and joined Jin in the kitchen, putting on his spare pink apron covered in little hearts and bears, fitting for Valentines day. His eyes grew wide at the sight of all the treats covering every counter in the kitchen. “Exactly how many people were you expecting to feed with all of these treats hyung?”

“You’ve obviously never been around a hungry Namjoon. He’ll eat a dozen of each on his own. I swear he’s going to contract diabetes one day.” Jin tied his own lacy pink apron around him and motioned for Jimin to bring the big pink KitchenAid mixer over to the counter.

A squeaky laugh escaped from Jimin as he followed Jin’s request, carrying the mixer to an empty counter. “So,” Jimin leaned over, eyebrows wiggling. “You and Namjoon? Things are going well I assume?”

Jin tried to hold back a smile, but was betrayed by his own muscles, “Yeah. I’ve always fancied him, but never really thought we could be more than bickering housemates. I was so wrong. Our compatibility is wildly high. He’s so fucking smart and sweet but totally dumb at the same time. Also he’s really fucking good at sex, so I really can’t complain.”

“It’s like a match made in heaven. You’re the band-aid to his destruction.” He leaned against the KitchenAid, letting out a dreamy sigh.

“Not only the band-aid, but also the one to prevent the destruction from ever happening. You know how many Namjoon-related accidents we could have prevented this whole damn time if I had been with him to say ‘look out’ or ‘Joonie take it slow?’” A fond smile settled on his lips as he sliced off a chunk of butter and placed it in a small glass dish, “Can you soften that in the microwave for me?”

With a nod, Jimin took the small dish and placed it in the microwave, setting the timer. He carefully pulled out the warm dish when the timer went off and carried it back to Jin, dumping it into the mixer.

“Now as I mix the powdered sugar pour the buttermilk in, but not all at once. You can also throw in that vanilla whenever as well. We’re gonna mix on low until it’s all mixed, then gradually go faster to whip it up. Speaking of whipping things up, you and Yoongi are pretty serious, yeah? He told me you guys have a hotel room today and tomorrow.” Jin looked at Jimin as he flipped the switch on the mixer.

Jimin’s face suddenly flushed as he bit his lip, replying with a nod. “It’s a big weekend for us. But this entire week, I’ve been so nervous. Is that a bad thing hyung? I mean, it’s just Yoongi. I love him, and he knows that. I don’t know, it just feels...different this time?”

“Jimin, tell me this. Are you able to talk about sex? Because if you can’t talk about it, you aren’t ready for it,” Jin quipped as he scraped frosting off the side of the bowl and back into the beater.

“Yoongi and I have brought it up a couple of times in the past. But you know, I trust him, I really do, and I know he wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable.”

“That’s good," Jin smiled. "You know, I’ve never seen him so mushy over anyone before you. He’s constantly smiling and in a good mood, and it’s so fucking weird. I guess we just got so used to him being so depressed and moody. He really cares about you, Jimin.” Jin turned up the speed for the mixer.

Jimin watched the mixer in a trance as a bashful smile crept up his lips. “I really care about him too hyung. So much, it almost makes me feel sick.”

“Ah, to be young and in love.”

Jimin glanced up at Jin, raising an eyebrow. “What does that make you and Namjoon then?”

“Our sex life might be new, but our relationship spans many years. We’re just two old fools.”

“Jin, you’re only 25.”

“Jimin, I didn’t ask for your sass.” Jin turned off the mixer and scraped the sides one more time. After confirming the frosting was fluffy and ready, he unhooked the bowl from the mixer and pointed to the red dye. “We’re gonna make it all pink. Pour in a few drops.”

Jimin carefully squeezed three drops of the red dye but nearly dropped in the bowl as he heard a loud knocking on the front door, follow by a slam as it forcefully swung open. “I heard someone was making treats today!” He heard a shout and peeked out of the kitchen, watching Taehyung pull Yoongi into a playful headlock. “Yoongi! Look how dressed up you are. Getting ready for the big bang tonight? You got all your condoms and lube right?” He sneered, ruffling Yoongi’s hair.

“Taetae, get your hands off my boyfriend. He worked hard putting that look together.” Jimin threatened waving Jin’s frosting spatula toward him.

“Taehyung, if you wish to continue being able to fuck Jungkook, I would advise you taking your hands off me right now,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Taehyung quickly pulled his hands off Yoongi and wrapped them around Jungkook, who still stood at the door. “Forget I ever put my hands on you, Yoongs.” He spat with a glare.

“The whole dysfunctional family is here now,” Jimin closed his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Lovely.”

“All we’re missing is Hoseok,” Jin noted, mixing the red dye into the frosting.

A faint scream echoed in the hallway. “You were saying?” Jimin glanced up at Jin.

“I ran into a fucking idiot who was on their fucking phone and made me drop all my fucking chocolates. This was fucking expensive, I busted my entire fucking paycheck to spread my fucking love to you all.” Hoseok dropped the bag onto the kitchen table. “And now half of these got fucking destroyed.” He sat in one of the chairs and crossed his arm, pouting. “Happy Valentines day, fuckers.”

“I just wanted to spend the morning with Jimin,” Yoongi muttered.

“Yah, you’re spending the next two days with Jimin. Shut up and thank Hoseok for the lovely chocolates,” Jin snapped at Yoongi, scooping some frosting into a squeeze bag and handing it to Jimin.

Ignoring the loud rambling and shouts being thrown back and forth, Jimin put all his focus on decorating the cookies as best as he could. Sticking his tongue out, he slowly drew on a cookie until he was finished, admiring the large, lopsided heart covered in sprinkles. “I did it!” Jimin beamed. “Hyung, look, look. I made this one just for you.” He picked up the cookie, setting it in Yoongi’s hand.

Yoongi smiled and placed a soft kiss on Jimin’s cheek, “It’s beautiful. How can I destroy such artwork by eating it?”

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Jimin grinned before smearing a small amount of pink frosting onto Yoongi’s nose and ran back into the kitchen.

“You can say, he’s whipped frosting now.” Taehyung whispered from behind as Jungkook bent over in laughter over his dumb joke.

“Kinda like when I ate whipped cream off you last night,” Jungkook poked through his laughter.

“I don’t want to fucking hear this,” Yoongi turned and walked over to the kitchen. “Don’t make me stay in there with the kink kings.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had my conversation with Jimin. You can help too if you want. Those cupcakes over there need frosting and sprinkles,” Jin pointed to the opposite counter and handed Yoongi a squeeze bag of frosting.

As Jimin finished the cookies on one of the counters, he moved over to where Yoongi was, standing close beside him, admiring the work he had done so far. “These look wonderful.” Jimin smiled. “Almost as wonderful as you.” He heard Taehyung make gagging noises in the background.

Yoongi ignored Taehyung and pulled Jimin in for a kiss, “Eat one and tell me how well I frosted it.”

Before Jimin could take a cupcake, Hoseok shoved his way between the two and grabbed one of Yoongi’s decorated treats and took a bite out of it. “What? Look, I deserve this after that tragedy I went through.” He whined with his mouth full and left the kitchen as Jimin proceeded to pick up a cupcake and tasted it. “Just as sweet as your sugar lips.” He grinned, extending it toward Yoongi. “Try it!”

Yoongi leaned forward and bit into the cupcake Jimin was holding out for him. Jin really knew how to make a cupcake. He smiled as he chewed and continued to frost the rest of the cupcakes.

When Jimin’s frosting bag was finally empty, he set it aside and took off his apron, admiring the treats he put all his effort into. He pulled out a stool and sat at the kitchen bar, watching Yoongi finish decorating his with dreamy eyes.

“You’re so fucking whipped.” Taehyung whispered in his ear and sat beside him.

“Yeah, I am.” Jimin sighed happily. “Look at him. Have you ever seen someone look so attractive decorating cupcakes?”

Yoongi bumped the side of his hand on a cupcake and accidentally frosted himself. With a mischievous gaze, he looked up at Jimin and proceeded to lick it off slowly.

Jin turned around and caught Yoongi in the act and kicked him out of the kitchen for licking his hands while frosting.

Jimin threw his head back in laughter, smacking Taehyung’s arm as he shouted in protest and smacked Jimin back. “Save your sexual innuendos for later, hyung.” Taehyung stated as Jimin covered up his cheeks, trying to hide the blush that found its way up.

“$90 bucks they won’t make it until tonight.” Hoseok shouted as he entered the kitchen.

“You’re on!” Taehyung shouted.

“Knock it off you two.” Namjoon interrupted, “Don’t you have anything else better to do than bet on their love life? Go take valentine selfies together and bother Jungkook instead. He’s been sitting on the couch by himself for gods sake. What kind of boyfriend are you Taehyung?” He shooed the two away from the kitchen.

He approached Jin, wrapping an arm around his waist. “How are the treats coming along, snookums?”

“Almost done. Just these last dozen cookies, baby cakes.”

“I’m gonna vomit all over my nice clothes,” Yoongi chimed in. “Come on, Jimin. We’re taking a plate of sweets and hiding in my room.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook groaned from the couch, “Why is everyone here so fucking nasty with each other? Save me, Hoseok. Insult my boyfriend!”

Hoseok shrugged innocently. “It’s Valentines day, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shook his head as Taehyung jumped onto Jungkook, nuzzling his nose into his hair. “I wuv you soooo much munchkin.”

“Just choke me out and end this,” Jungkook replied with a pained expression on his face.

“Choke you?” Taehyung’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well if you want to get kinky here and now,” He grinned. “We can get kinky.”

Hoseok groaned in disgust. “I’ll be at the kitchen table, eating my destroyed chocolates.”

Jimin shoved a cookie in his mouth as he helped Yoongi make a small pile of treats on one of the heart-shaped plates and followed him to his room, shielding his eyes from whatever was possibly happening on the couch. Jimin set the heart plate onto Yoongi’s desk, letting out a sigh of relief. “I love everyone to death, but they can be so exhausting sometimes.”

“I understand. Well, on the bright side, they successfully managed to waste two full hours of our time. Which means, our lunch date will begin soon and then we can check into the hotel and remain alone together until the day after tomorrow.” Yoongi smiled and walked behind Jimin, wrapping his arms around the younger’s waist. “Just the two of us, isn’t that just magical?” He kissed into Jimin’s neck as he finished talking.

“Just the two of us?” He replied with a laugh, “That’s a first.”

Yoongi trailed kisses up Jimin’s jawline, “And definitely not a last.”

A soft sigh escaped from Jimin’s lips and he spun around, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck. He pulled him close, leaving no space between the two and pressed his lips against Yoongi’s. They had done this many times before, but every single time he kissed Yoongi, butterflies grew in his stomach feeling like it was his first all over again.

“We can’t let Hoseok get another $90, now.”

“So we’re making Taehyung rich then?” Jimin pouted.

“Fuck, there’s no winning,” Yoongi grumbled.

“We should start joining these bets, we’re guaranteed to win every time. We’ll make big bucks.” He gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Yoongi chuckled.

“I’ll take you out on hundreds of dates with the money we earn.” Jimin promised with a wide grin. “How great would that be?”

Yoongi smiled and kissed Jimin’s smiling lips, “I want nothing more than our friends to pay for our love.”

“That’s the dream.” Jimin muttered but then was interrupted by a light growl from his stomach. “Oh my god.” He hid his face in embarrassment.

“Babe, you hungry or something? Jeez,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Food has been on my mind ever since you told me about that reservation.” Jimin answered shamelessly. “A guy’s gotta eat, you know?” He stated with a shrug.

Yoongi’s chuckle turned into a chortle, and he hugged Jimin as close to him as he could, “Soon, Jiminnie.”

Jimin let out a whine and grabbed another cookie, shoving one in Yoongi’s mouth as well. He cackled when the cookie left a frosting mustache on his lips. “You should consider growing a mustache, it’s not a bad look.”

“And ruin this perfectly smooth face? I don’t think so. Plus, do you really wanna kiss a hairy face?”

“Who knows, maybe I have a thing for hairy faces and I just don’t know it yet.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose, “Find another man to test this possible kink of yours. I for one will not ruin my good looks for the sake of experimentation.”

“Oh but you’ll let me put my lips on another man?” Jimin teased. “Why don’t I just go ask one of the guys out there, I’m sure they’re willing to be a test subject.”

“If you really want to kiss one of them, go for it. I have nothing to worry about. I know you love me,” Yoongi smiled mischievously.

“Oh?” Jimin rose an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that? So I don’t need to go grab, I don’t know, Hoseok and test this out, just in case?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Yah, Jiminnie.” He pushed Jimin down onto his bed and slotted himself between the younger’s legs. “Stop being a brat.” He wrapped his arms around Jimin’s neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

“Nah, I get a kick out of teasing you.” Jimin murmured when their kiss broke and gripped Yoongi’s blouse, capturing his lips again. The feeling was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough. His sweet lips tasted of sugar and vanilla. Warmth radiated through Jimin’s body, his heart pounding so hard against his chest, he was sure Yoongi could feel it. When Jimin pulled away, gasping for breath, he gazed at Yoongi, taking in his features. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed and lips slightly swollen from their kiss. He lifted his hand, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, his lips curling into a small smile.

A fond smile slipped its way onto Yoongi’s face in return, “I know I say this all the fucking time, but I love you so much, Jimin.” He played with the short hairs at the nape of Jimin’s neck and brought their foreheads together, “So so so much.” Yoongi let his eyes close as he breathed in, breath mingling with Jimin’s due to their proximity. “My beautiful Jiminnie.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.” Jimin uttered. “I feel like the luckiest person alive.”

“I know I am the luckiest person alive when I’m with you. You’re like an angel, sent to protect me,” Yoongi mulled, stroking Jimin’s hair as he spoke.

“You have Hoseok to thank for that.” He ran his fingers down Yoongi’s spine, gliding over the silky fabric. “He was the one that wrote your number on a stall. I simply followed with a meme.” His fingers curled against the fabric and he pressed a chaste kiss against his lips.

“He can be best man at our wedding, and I’ll name our first adopted child after him,” Yoongi muttered against Jimin’s lips.

“I’m sure he would love that more than anything else.” Jimin giggled. “Having our own kid named after him. As long as we can name our second one after my precious Taetae.”

“Taehyung doesn’t deserve to have me name my child after him,” Yoongi huffed. “He didn't bring you to me like Hoseok did.”

A laugh escaped from his lips. “Alright, that’s fair. But lets get through this valentines first before we start naming our future children.”

Yoongi chuckled, “I’m getting ahead of myself, I’m sorry baby. I just… I see my future, and you’re right there with me. It’s a new sensation for me.”

“I mean,” Jimin grinned. “It is nice to think about how cute and domestic we’ll look in a little house with screaming children. But if it gets out of control, I’m paying Jin-hyung to be a nanny.”

Yoongi bellowed, “Imagine Jin, coming to our house dressed like fucking Mary Poppins, ‘practically perfect in every way.’”

“He’s got the voice for it too. He can teach the kids supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

Yoongi’s smile remained as he imagined the scenario, “I love everything about this future of ours.”

“I love everything about it, and I love everything about you.”

Yoongi’s phone beeped then, signaling his reminder for lunch reservations, “Well, would you look at that. It’s time to head over to the restaurant. Just what you’ve been waiting for.”

“Finally!” Jimin cheered, throwing his arms up in the air. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Excitedly, he pulled Yoongi toward the bedroom door, snatching one last cookie along the way.

“Joonie, I’m taking your car, hope you don’t need it!” Yoongi yelled as Jimin pulled him to the front door.

“Remember hyung, condoms for safe sex!” Taehyung shouted across the apartment.

“Safe sex is the best sex!” Jin yelled after.

“Enjoy that big bang, fuckers!” Hoseok screamed.

“Preparation is vital!” Jungkook added on.

“You shouldn’t know this, you’re 12.” Namjoon whacked the kid across his head.

Jungkook rubbed his head where Namjoon hit it, “I’m 20, thank you very much, and I was too eager my first time with Tae Tae and really hurt myself. Prepping yourself is KEY.”

“Oh my god, go be a kid and watch fucking Pororo.” Namjoon groaned.

“I hate this family, Tae Tae doesn’t disrespect me like this,” Jungkook pouted.

Jimin followed Yoongi down to the car, fingers interlocked with his. “We finally escaped from our dysfunctional family.” Jimin giggled, jumping up and down gleefully. “Two whole days together Min Yoongi, two whole days!”

Yoongi grinned as he slid into the driver’s seat and stuck the key in the ignition, turning the car on. “Two fucking days with the love of my life. It doesn’t get better than this, ladies and gents. Also please buckle up, Jiminnie. Seatbelt safety is important.”

“Of course, hyung. We need all sorts of protection today, don’t we?” He sneered, buckling himself into the seat.

“I can’t have the most precious thing in my life get hurt now, can I?”

Jimin’s ears grew red as he bit his lip. As Yoongi pulled out onto the road, Jimin extended his arm toward the radio, turning up the volume. A spanish opera blasted through the speakers and Jimin choked, trying to hold back his laugh. “I always took Namjoon-hyung for a hip hop person, but this is even better.”

“Joonie listens to weird shit. He’s all over the damn place,” Yoongi chuckled. “I suppose that’s a good thing though, to enjoy such a wide range of music.”

Jimin smiled as the spanish opera played softly in the background. He turned his head, watching Yoongi with admiration, his mind reeling back at the little things they’ve done together the past couple of months. It all happened in such a short span of time, but it feels like it’s been years.

Yoongi’s thumb tapped on the steering wheel to the tune of the music, and he had to smile in the tranquility of it all. “Lunch is on me. Order whatever the hell you want. Make yourself happy, Jimin,” Yoongi broke through the silence.

Gasping, Jimin’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “Really? You mean it? Anything?”

“Anything.”

A small squeal of delight escaped from Jimin’s lips. “This is already the best day, ever!” He was already having a hard enough time containing his excitement. The opera eventually came to an end and Lil Wayne followed after.

“See, very diverse.” Yoongi pulled up to the hotel parking lot and into a spot. He killed the engine and got out, walking over to the passenger side to open the door for Jimin. He held his hand out for the younger to take as he helped him out of Namjoon’s car. “Come with me, Mr. Park. Your lunch reservation awaits.”

“Look at you, Min Yoongi.” Jimin gasped. “Be careful,” He leaned in closely, “you’re just making yourself more irresistible by the minute.”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” Yoongi replied with a wink, opening the door so Jimin could walk through first.

Jimin glanced at him with an offended expression, clutching his chest. “How dare you.” He whispered before they walked over to the elevators and Jimin’s eyes went wide as Yoongi hit the button for floor 35. They rode up with an electric excitement bouncing off them.

“I’ve always wanted to bring someone here,” Yoongi whispered even though they were the only two in the elevator. “Always sounded romantic.” The two walked out of the elevator as it reached the 35th floor, and Yoongi held the door once again for Jimin to enter the restaurant. They were greeted by a woman at the front.

“Welcome to Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul,” She greeted with a warm smile. “Have you made a reservation?”

“Yes,” Yoongi responded, walking in behind Jimin. “The name will be Min Yoongi.”

“Right this way,” The maître d' grabbed the menus and mazed through the elegantly decorated restaurant, guiding them to their table. “Here you are.”

Jimin seated himself across from Yoongi, thanking the maître d' before taking a moment to look around, admiring the place. Beside them was a large window with a clear view of the Bukhan mountains beyond the cityscape. The ceiling above them were decorated with glass chandeliers, emitting a dim, amber glow. “This place is amazing Yoongi.” He opened the menu, gaping at the selection it offered. He always admired this place from afar and dreamt of trying their food one day, but he forgot how expensive it was.

“Only the best for you, love,” Yoongi replied with the smile of a man in love.

Jimin smiled warmly and studied the menu, mulling over the choices. “My god, do you even know what you want?”

“Well, we can do chicken or fish. What do you desire?”

“Mmm,” Jimin pondered for a moment. “Fish. Fish sounds wonderful.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement, “Fish it is. Shall we get a wine to go with our meal?”

“Yeah!” Jimin nodded, “It’s not every day you get to try wine in Seoul.”

“It’s imported French wine. Let’s do the white wine. I hear it’s more tasty than red wine.”

“If you say so, then white wine it is.”

Yoongi nodded, and when the waiter came over to take their order, he relayed their choice to him. he smiled and let them know he’d be back with their wine shortly and that he’d bring water glasses over while they waited.

Jimin extended an arm across the table, taking Yoongi’s hand in his, a comfortable silence hanging around them. “What are you thinking about, Min Yoongi?”

“How much I love you,” Yoongi smiled, looking at their intertwined hands. “How happy I am to be here with you. How jealous Jin will be when he hears we ate here, just to name a few things.”

“I bet he’s going to try to drag Namjoon here after we tell him,” He grinned. “Maybe get a few cooking tips out of a chef or two. You know he doesn’t like anyone who cooks better than him.”

Yoongi giggled, “Namjoon is too cheap to come here. There is no way Jin could convince him to waste his money on expensive food.”

“Not only that, but he’s too clumsy. Look around, there’s glass everywhere.”

“Namjoon is the bull in the china shop.”

Jimin covered his mouth, muffling his laughter. “Poor hyung. How Jin controls that beast, I’ll never know.”

“He just has to bat his pretty eyelashes at Joonie and he’s putty in his hands,” Yoongi snorted. “Always been that way.”

“Good,” He smiled. “It gives them both something to do anyway.” The waiter returned with their drinks, pouring the wine into the glasses and left the bottle at the table for them, announcing their food will arrive soon.

Yoongi brought the glass up to his nose and smelled the wine before lowering it to his lips and taking a small taste. He was surprised at the taste, having only ever tasted rice wine before, but it wasn’t a bad difference. “This is pretty good. Try it Jiminnie!”

Jimin grabbed his glass, catching the sweet smell of the wine before taking a small sip. He smacked his lips for a moment, tasting the flavor. “Hyung!” He replied with a surprised expression. “This is really good!”

Yoongi smiled at Jimin adoringly. “I’m glad the wine is good.”

Jimin took a few more sips. “I don’t think I can ever go back to soju after this.” He commented, gently swirling the wine in the glass. “It’s quite refreshing actually, and sweet, like you.” Jimin grinned.

Yoongi snorted, “Don’t get too used to this, love. This is a one-time kinda thing. Otherwise it’s not special, yeah?”

“Of course, but it’s so special that I’ll think about this wine every time I take a shot of soju, most likely for the rest of my life. Say, let’s come back on our 100 year anniversary.” Jimin laughed. “That’s far out enough, right?”

Yoongi laughed, “How about our golden anniversary? Nothing says 50 sweet years together like a nice rosé.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in delight. “That’s even better! It’s 50 years sooner!”

Yoongi smiled, “It is better, isn’t it? 50 years with you would be amazing.”

“There’s so much we have to do before our 50th anniversary!” Jimin exclaimed, growing excited as ideas ran through his mind. “So many things like...like traveling to other countries, or trying all the cafes in Seoul, or flying kites. Or make paintings for each other!”

Yoongi couldn’t hold back the laughter that overtook him as he watched Jimin’s face light up at the different ideas soaring through his head. “Those are all very good anniversary ideas, Jimminie.”

“That’s only 50 anniversaries.” Jimin signed, growing overwhelmed. “But I have hundreds of ideas, how do I even fit them all…”

“Then we celebrate every single month we are together!” Yoongi exclaimed. “That way, you can multiply 50 by 12 and have that many moreanniversaries.”

Jimin’s smile widened at the idea. “It’s perfect! On the 15th of every month, you’re mine for the whole day.”

Yoongi’s smile softened, “Hopefully someday the 15th won’t be the only day you’re mine for 24 hours.”

“Here’s to letting that someday come as soon as possible.” Jimin lifted his glass in the air. “With frequent interruptions from our lovely dysfunctional family.”

Yoongi softly clanked his glass against Jimin’s and took a sip of wine. “You know, you look so good in here. The fancy atmosphere makes you look like a lord or something. It’s damn sexy.”

Jimin leaned back, resting an arm against the head of the chair and crossed his leg, smirking. “Sexy, you say?” He subtly licked his lips and wriggled his eyebrows.

“Woah, baby. Save it for the bedroom,” Yoongi chided, nearly choking on his wine. “I’d rather like to make it through lunch without any issues.”

Jimin’s snigger faded the instant he spotted the waiter arriving to their table with the food. Gasping in awe, Jimin watched the waiter set the plates down and quietly thanked him. “Is this food or is this art? Wait!” He pulled out his phone, turning on the camera to take a picture. “I gotta do it for the ‘gram” He muttered under his breath and quickly snapped a photo. “It looks delicious...let’s eat!” Jimin picked up his fork but couldn’t get himself to touch his lunch. “It’s so pretty, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Yoongi chuckled and stabbed a bite onto his fork, guiding it towards Jimin’s mouth, “Take a bite, baby.”

Jimin took a bite, chewing the food slowly. “It’s so good! Try it!” He jabbed the fish onto his fork and hovered it toward Yoongi. “The best fish I’ve had yet.”

Yoongi smiled and let Jimin feed him. Jimin was correct. The fish was delicious. “Yah, that’s so damn good. What the fuck.”

Jimin lightly slapped his arm. “Yoongi!” He hissed quietly, laughing. “Watch your language, this is a fancy place. But you know, I completely agree. This is fucking delicious.” He whispered, making sure no one heard.

“Yah, I’m a man with a refined vocabulary. All the fancy people say things like ‘fuck’ and ‘damn’ to indicate their emotions,” Yoongi joked, taking another bite of food. “But yeah, definitely don’t get used to this place, Jiminnie. Shit’s expensive for the portions we got.”

“You’re right.” He glanced down at his place. “It’s like the size of your emotional capacity. A teaspoon.”

Yoongi nearly died trying to contain the food in his mouth while also trying to hold back a snort, and ended up choking on his fish. “Holy fuck I wasn’t ready for that,” He cried, gulping down water to help clear his esophagus. “You fucking bastard, how dare you go there.”

Jimin grinned proudly, taking another bite of his small dinner.

“Well, at least we won’t be eating a lot. That means there won’t be a lot to digest, which will mean whoever ends up taking it in the ass tonight should have clear passageways,” Yoongi concluded with a sly grin, patiently waiting Jimin’s response.

Loud coughs erupted from Jimin as he choked on his fish, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere of the restaurant. He waved apologetically to a waiter who shot concerned glances at him and chugged down his water. “You little shit.” He murmured, glaring at Yoongi. “Ruining such a beautiful moment between me and my dinner. Jesus.”

Yoongi just chuckled, “Sorry, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“Yeah and you got the whole restaurant’s attention too.”

“Ah, but only you heard what I said,” Yoongi winked.

Jimin’s ears grew hot as he resumed eating, trying to look anywhere but at the man in front of him.

“Aw, baby, did I embarrass you?” Yoongi asked, concern on his face. “I’m sorry, it was a joke. A really bad sexual joke.” He placed a hand on top of Jimin’s free one.

“No I just, i mean, thinking about tonight I-” He stammered.

“Jimin, if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything,” Yoongi reassured him. “There is absolutely zero pressure. If we kiss and cuddle all night, then we kiss and cuddle all night and that’s that. I just want to spent my nights with you next to me. That’s all I need.”

“I know,” Jimin smiled softly. “and that’s what I love about you. But it’s not even that, I just...there’s no one else in the world I’d rather do it with than you.

Yoongi sent Jimin a warm smile, “You set the pace these next two days.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi finished his meal and watched Jimin finish his, “Hey, beautiful.” He smiled at the boy across from him, completely enamoured by him.

“Hey, Mr. handsome and stoic.” Jimin replied. “How was your teaspoon?”

“Delicious. Yours?”

“Absolutely amazing!” He exclaimed and picked up his glass, finishing the last of the sweet wine. “This was actually the greatest idea ever. Best Valentines day I’ve ever had, thank you for taking me here, hyung.”

“Anything for my Jiminnie,” Yoongi smiled. The waiter came back with their dessert, clearing their lunch plates to make room for the sweets. Yoongi smiled in thanks and grabbed his spoon to start eating.

“Wait!” Jimin stopped him immediately. “Hold on,” He pulled out his phone again, getting the camera set up.

Yoongi smiled as he watched Jimin take a photo of the food.

“Smile, Min Yoongi!” He held the phone up in the air, trying to get the two with a clear view of the restaurant in the background.

Yoongi shot Jimin one of his wide, gummy smiles.

As Yoongi resumed with the dessert, Jimin snapped a candid of him, smiling bashfully to himself. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it forever, sitting at a table in Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul with the man he loves right in front of him. There was no other feeling he could compare it to. He put away his phone and grabbed a spoon, joining Yoongi.

The two sat in silence as they finished their desserts. It was a comfortable silence that Yoongi didn’t feel the need to interrupt for any reason.

Jimin set the spoon on the empty, glass dish with a soft clink and let out a satisfied sigh. “For something so small, everything had so much flavor in it.” He rested his chin in his hands. “Is it possible to thank you for this again, and a million times over?”

Yoongi smiled, “Of course. Just wait until we get to the room. You’ll be thanking me for other reasons too.”

“Oh?” Jimin perked up, raising his eyebrows in curiosity. “What other reasons?”

“We’re in a junior suite. It’s not exactly the royal suite, but it’s a fucking nice room with a big bed and a nice ass bathroom with a bathtub, and there’s space so like if you wanna dance around the suite you can,” Yoongi beamed.

“Space?!” Jimin gaped. “A big bed? Well if this room is that great, then by all means, where’s the check?” He scanned around the restaurant for their waiter. “I need to see this for myself. Excuse me!” He waved down the waiter, requesting their check.

The waiter came back over a moment later with the check, and Yoongi brought the check up to the cashier with a smile, paying for the dinner and thanking the cashier after the food was paid for. The two made their way out of the restaurant and back down to the receptionist to check into their room. Yoongi smiled at the girl as they walked up to the counter, “Hello, are you checking in?” she asked with a warm smile.

Yoongi nodded, “Yeah, Min Yoongi.”

“One moment while I search for your booking,” she smiled as she started typing onto the computer. “Min Yoongi, two nights in the junior suite?” She asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Fantastic. It looks like your room is ready! You’ll be on the club floor, 30, room 3069.” She slid a set of room keys over the counter and a small map of the building. Yoongi heard Jimin snickering behind him as the receptionist told them their room number. He held back a snicker himself, and accepted the keys from her. “Checkout is at 11am on the last day. Enjoy your stay with us.”

Jimin couldn’t hold in his excitement as he bounced beside Yoongi, nudging him toward the elevators. But as they walked toward them, Jimin took a moment to look around, admiring all the details surrounding them. The entire reception had a calming amber glow to it, one of the entire walls in the lobby was replaced with glass, showcasing a large waterfall. In the room were tables scattered around and a grand, pure white piano. “Look,” Jimin tugged on Yoongi’s sleeve. “The piano there, you should play it during our stay.”

“Should I play your song for everyone to hear?”

“Would you?” Jimin asked, his eyes glimmering with hope.

“I’d do most anything you’d ask me to do,” Yoongi smiled, taking Jimin’s hand into his own.

Jimin grinned and left a light kiss on his cheek as they continued across the lobby.

“Floor 30, huh. That’ll be one hell of a view,” Yoongi mused, walking into the elevator.

“We’ll be able to see most of Myeongdong,” Jimin stated. “And Namsan tower!”

“Woah, that will look so pretty at night. Too bad I have a better view right in front of me and won’t be looking outside too much.”

“I know, I know.” Jimin struck several different poses dramatically in the elevator. “Look at this body. No one can resist.” He teased, slipping off his velvet jacket halfway, and winked, a small bit of his shoulders showing.

“You’re making this the hardest elevator ride ever, Jimin,” Yoongi whined, noticing they were only passing floor 20. “I for one am finding it extremely hard to resist.”

Jimin pulled back up his jacket, giggling as his eyes turned into crescents. “I’m sorry, hyung. You’re just too easy to tease.” He leaned against his shoulder, batting his eyelashes at him.

The elevator finally dinged, signalling their arrival to the 30th floor. Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s hand and pulled him out of the elevator. They were nearly running down the hallways, looking for room 3069. Jimin let out a yelp when he found it and pulled Yoongi back so he could open the door. Yoongi stuck the keycard in, and opened the door to their suite. He made his way over to the bed and threw himself on the pillowy surface.

“Yoongi, this place is gorgeous!” He shouted, his eyes widening in surprise. The room had a small wall in the middle of the area, splitting the bedroom from the living room. In the living room was a giant window that overlooked the city with the Namsan tower on a mountain behind it all. There was a small leather couch in the room, just big enough for the the two of them and a tv perched on the wall. The bedroom contained a carefully made queen bed with a lamp on a nightstand on each side of the bed and door that led to the bathroom. But Yoongi was right about their room, there was so much space that he could dance across the floor without bumping into anything.

With a squeal, Jimin ran and flew onto the bed, landing beside Yoongi and buried his face in one of the plush pillows. “It’s perfect,” Jimin smiled, rolling around the large bed, ruining the work that went into the folded blankets. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

“Nothing but perfection for the perfect man,” Yoongi smiled, pulling Jimin against him.

“You spoil me rotten, Min Yoongi. What did I do to deserve you?” He curled up close against Yoongi, their legs tangled, their noses inches apart as he brushed his fingers along Yoongi’s cheek.

Yoongi leaned into the touch, “Whatever you did, I’m glad you did it. Because I certainly don’t deserve you.”

Jimin leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against his lips and smiled, staring into Yoongi’s dark eyes as if they carried the entire world. “I love you.” He whispered so quietly, it was almost inaudible. “I don’t think you understand how much you changed my life in such a short span of time. There’s no one else out there that could do this, even if they tried. Before I met you I...I really just holed myself away in the dance room. I didn’t have the energy to do much else, I just dedicated my whole life to getting into this school. Except for my dance team and Hoseok-hyung, because I was already around them all the time, I didn’t make the time to make new friends or go out anywhere. Actually, that day I texted you, I was hiding in the bathroom stall to avoid a dinner night with them and a couple of their friends.” Jimin went on, letting his words spill. “I don’t know, wasn’t something I usually do, I just saw the little scribble on the stall and thought, maybe this guy is like me, let me send a funny picture and make them laugh.” He shrugged, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

“I’m so glad you did, baby. I was so fucking depressed. You know about my loveless childhood, and all that sad shit. It really messes with you mentally when your parents are shit at loving you.” Yoongi stroked Jimin’s hair as he spoke, gaining comfort from the soft locks. “Even living with Joonie and Jin wasn’t really enough to get me out of my depression pit. I guess Hoseok was finally done dealing with my sad ass and hoped someone would answer his pleading call for help. Then you came along.” Yoongi smiled and kissed the tip of Jimin’s nose. “And you wiggled your way into my life, and somehow you captured my heart along the way. Baby I hated living before I met you, and now I don’t go a day without thinking about how lucky I am to be alive.” He placed a soft kiss on Jimin’s forehead. “I love you so much. More than you can know.”

Yoongi’s words made Jimin’s chest clench as he slid his arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. “I know some people hate hearing this kind of thing,” He combed his fingers through his hair. “but I’m so sorry you felt this way Yoongi, I’m so sorry you had to even experience that kind of feeling, ever.” He sniffled quietly, feeling a single tear roll down his cheek. “If Hoseok-hyung wanted us to meet so badly, he could have just forced your number in my hands forever ago. He wouldn’t stop rambling about you for the longest time.” He laughed quietly. “Funny how fate works out in the end.

“My god, all he ever did when we were together was talk about ‘Park Jimin’ this and ‘Park Jimin’ that, and how good of a dancer this kid was,” Yoongi let out a soft chuckle. “It kinda pissed me off. But he was right about everything. You are amazing.” Yoongi took hold of Jimin’s chin and pulled the younger boy’s face closer to his, making it easier to close the distance between their lips. “I love you,” he mumbled against Jimin’s mouth.

He sighed against his lips, a bundle of warmth spreading from his chest. Jimin couldn’t explain the feeling that rushed through him from Yoongi’s touch, even if it was the lightest one, like a feather. It could be a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins or just purely bliss from lying beside the man he loves with his whole heart. He loved every second of it though.

Jimin ran his hands along his spine and murmured soft ‘I love yous’ between each break they took for air. He felt so much more than those three simple words toward Yoongi though, but he had no other way to tell him than by just saying ‘I love you’ over and over.

Yoongi sat up to take his jacket off, since the garment was restricting his ability to move his arms freely, and tossed it onto the back of the nearest chair. He finessed this all without breaking contact with Jimin’s lips, too greedy to let a moment go by without the feel of Jimin’s lips against his.

Jimin’s velvet jacket joined Yoongi’s on the chair seconds later, snaking his arms around his waist and pulling him closer, if it was even possible. He tilted his head, trailing light kisses down his neck, careful as if Yoongi was the most delicate thing in his arms. He may have had that headstrong personality, but his light skin and smaller, intricate frame gave him an appearance that of a porcelain doll. When Jimin’s lips brushed below his ear, he whispered sweet little nothings to him, a soft smile growing across his lips. All Jimin wanted to do was shower Yoongi with affection and for him to understand that he was really, truly loved.

Yoongi let a soft moan escape his lips as Jimin started sucking on the sensitive spot behind his ear. They had made out multiple times before, but it was never this intimate. Yoongi tried to find his voice as Jimin kept sucking and biting on his delicate skin. “Ji-Jimin, baby. That feels so good.”

“Good,” Jimin murmured. “You deserve to feel good. You deserve to be happy.” He smiled as their lips met again, his fingers curling into the fabric of his silky shirt.

“Jimin,” Yoongi said between breaths, “I want you so bad. Baby, please.”

“Do you?” Jimin gasped as he pulled away for just a moment, admiring the man he loved in front of him, their cheeks flushed and their breaths heavy.

“I do, Jimin. I do,” he breathed, tangling his hands in Jimin’s hair. “I want to show you just how much I love you.”

“So do I.” Jimin replied softly, gently pushing Yoongi down on the bed, mounting himself between his hips. “I want you to be mine and mine only, Min Yoongi.” He leaned forward, their lips locked. Every kiss had a raw intensity to it, hearts racing, soft moans of pleasure escaping their lips and electricity running through their skin. Their bodies melded together in the blissful evening, completely and utterly drunk with love for each other.

∆ ∆ ∆

Jimin opened his eyes to the faint glow of the morning light threatening to peek through the curtains and tilted his head up toward Yoongi, smiling at his sleeping expression. His features were softened, his mouth slightly agape, making him look peaceful and childlike, only for Jimin’s eyes to see. His heart filled with so much happiness, he swore it was going to explode.

Under the blankets, their legs were tangled and their skin were covered in marks of love. Jimin nestled himself against Yoongi’s warm skin, resting his cheek against his shoulder, his fingers grazing over his collarbone. He felt so wholesome and complete in his arms.

Yoongi shifted and pulled Jimin closer to him, craving the skin-to-skin contact as he found himself stirring awake. “Morning, love,” Yoongi mumbled, leaving soft kisses along Jimin’s skin.

“Good morning, sugar lips.” Jimin smiled. “Sleep well?” He brushed the messy hair out of Yoongi’s eyes, looking at him fondly.

“Jiminnie, I haven’t slept this well since Christmas.”

“I agree with this.” He replied, “It’s so peaceful here too. Let’s just move into this room and stay here forever.” Jimin nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck. “I’ll be content with that.”

Yoongi chuckled and kissed the top of jimin’s hair, “Baby, if I could afford to live in this hotel, I would move us the fuck here at the drop of a hat.”

Jimin smiled at his words. “Two days here is going to feel like a lifetime. We still have a whole anniversary date ahead of us and an entire hotel to explore.” He paused for a moment. “Speaking of which, happy two months honey.”

Yoongi smiled and rolled over so he was hovering over Jimin, straddling his hips, “And what a happy two months its been.”

“The happiest I’ve ever been. Here’s to more happy months.” He gave him a toothy grin.

Yoongi leaned down and took Jimin’s lips into his own, not even caring the two of them had morning breath. He worked the kiss slowly until he could coax his tongue into Jimin’s mouth. Yoongi let his hands get tangled in Jimin’s already wild hair, and pulled Jimin’s body as close to his as possible. “I love you,” he whispered as they briefly parted to breathe.

Jimin whimpered quietly under his touch, his skin growing hot. “It’s so early, sugar lips.” He chuckled under his breath. “I never took you for a morning person.”

“Baby, I’m a morning noon and night kinda guy,” Yoongi chuckled.

“That explains why you don’t get enough sleep unlike a normal person.” He teased, sticking his tongue out.

“Let my zombie-ass live. I don’t need this negativity.”

Jimin burst out in laughter. “Is sugar lips feeling salty?” He cooed, pinching his cheek. “You’re mine, so I’m allowed to tease you as much as I want.”

Yoongi smiled, “Ah but it goes both ways, my Jiminnie.”

“That’s fair.” Jimin’s eyes formed into crescents as he lifted his head, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“I don’t know what you have planned for the daytime, but I vote we just lounge naked in bed until the concert.”

“That sounds like the perfect plan,” Jimin nodded, shooting him a thumbs up. “I’m all for naked lounging.”

Yoongi smiled wide and nuzzled his face into the crook of Jimin’s neck, “This is honestly so perfect.”

Jimin closed his eyes, the two of them laying under the blankets in a comfortable silence. Before he completely drifted off, a loud buzzing echoed from the nightstand, disrupting the peace. Jimin reached out with a groan, grabbing his phone and looked at the bright screen, temporarily blinding him in the dark room. A picture of Taehyung’s nostrils covered the screen as Jimin rolled his eyes, swiping the green button.

“Do you not understand what peace is, Taetae?” Jimin answered, mumbling as he stroked Yoongi’s hair.

“Put me on speaker.”

Jimin pressed the speaker button on his phone and held it in the air. “What is it?”

“DID YOU DO THE FUCK?” He screamed, his voice echoing loudly in the hotel room. “I can’t believe you stopped in the middle of a blow job to call them.” They heard Jungkook whine in the background as Jimin let out a snort, listening to the two bicker on the other line.

“Just hang up, baby. I don’t wanna deal with Tae right now,” Yoongi whined. “This is our time together.”

“You hear that, Taetae? My man wants some peace.”

“Yah, I’m getting blue balls here!” They heard Jungkook yell in the background. “Tae, baby, you need to finish me off.”

“Oh my god, Jimin hang up,” Yoongi groaned.

Jimin laughed so hard, tears pooled at his eyes. “Go take care of Kook, Tae.” He hung up the phone as Taehyung shouted incoherently and tossed the phone back onto the night stand. “They’re so ridiculous.” He wheezed, wiping away the tears. “Why am I friends with him?”

“Ditch him and come live with me,” Yoongi smiled, rubbing circles into Jimin’s waist with his thumb. “The pros are: you get to live with me and do whatever you want whenever you want with me, and you won’t live with that mess anymore. There are literally no cons, only pros.”

“You’re right,” Jimin agreed. “Kook and Tae practically live together now. What’s stopping me from living with you?”

“What, indeed,” Yoongi murmured, leaning down to leave a bruise on Jimin’s collarbone. “We could do this anytime. Fuck, I could wake up with you in my arms every day. You know, that’s my dream, Jimin.”

“You know I’d do anything to help make your dreams come true, hyung.” Jimin beamed. “I don’t think this one will be too difficult to accomplish.”

Yoongi perked up and hoisted himself onto his elbows, “Wait, you mean it? You’d live with me?”

Jimin reached a hand out, brushing a thumb along his cheek. He bit his lip and nodded. “There’s nothing else I’d love more.” Their eyes locked in a gaze as he gave him a warm smile, so ridiculously in love.

“Holy fuck. I mean, you’ll live with me, Jin and Namjoon, but they like never leave Jin’s room now so it’s not like there’s anyone to disturb us. Plus you get Jin’s cooking. That’s another pro of living with me.”

“Well I mean,” Jimin shrugged. “That is one of the major reasons I’d move in without hesitation. I mean-besides you of course! But you already knew that. But Jin’s food…” He swallowed, drooling over the thought of his cooking. “Hot, fresh breakfast every morning…”

“After some hot fresh morning sex, god what a perfect life,” Yoongi joked around.

Jimin rolled his eyes, giggling. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, hyung.”

“So you’re telling me that you wouldn’t want to do everything we did last night every morning?” Yoongi challenged.

“Well, I-you know,” Jimin stammered, unable to hide his grin and swatted Yoongi’s arm in embarrassment. “I mean, if that’s how our mornings went down, I wouldn’t complain.”

Yoongi smiled, “Only if we both want our mornings to start like that.” He leaned back down against Jimin’s chest and kissed his forehead. “But I’m just really happy you said yes to my request. I thought you would think I was moving things too fast.”

“If I had thought you were going fast, I wouldn’t be lying here buck naked.” He laughed. “But here we are. The only difficult thing about this is having to tell my clingy roommate.”

Yoongi reached over and grabbed Jimin’s phone, opening it up to his last conversation with Taehyung.

Chat With The.V.Zone:

2016.02.15

09:23

Mochi_Moves:

Jimin’s mine now.

The.V.Zone:

nO SHIT

U TTLY FUCKED LAST NIHFT *NIGHT

Mochi_Moves:

No, like he’s 100% mine now

as in

morning noon night

24/7

The.V.Zone:

bithC WAT

WHAT U MEAN

LIKE MY CHIMCHIM IS LEAVING ME?

AND LIVING WIT UR PALE ASS?

Mochi_Moves:

that’s 100% what i’m saying

bitch.

you got your mans to care for

pull him out of his parent’s home

The.V.Zone:

bihtc

fUK U

Mochi_Moves:

i’m too busy fucking my boyfriend

in my home

whenever i want

because he’s gonna live with me now

The.V.Zone:

u kno wat

it ok

i can accept this

it gives me a reason

to cum ovr more

and eat jins food

jesus fukcin christ

his cooking is 2 die 4

but also fukc u

Mochi_Moves:

Love ya, cunt~

The.V.Zone:

BitHC

“What are you doing, hyung?” Jimin asked, his eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“I’m letting Tae know you don’t live with him anymore,” Yoongi smiled.

“How’s Tae handling that?”

“He’s in the acceptance phase. Jin’s cooking is a truly powerful bargaining piece.”

“That was faster than I expected,” Jimin grinned, pulling the phone out of Yoongi’s hand. “Well that settles it then, we got through the hardest part.” He tossed the phone aside, ignoring the buzzes of incoming messages from Taehyung and slid his arms around Yoongi’s neck, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “Here’s to this 24/7.”

“My god, do you know how happy I am? I get to leave this hotel with you tomorrow, and you will literally come home with me,” Yoongi grinned.

“That’s the plan.” Jimin beamed, “I’ll have my things moved over by the end of this week. But on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Please, for the love of god, let me baby proof the house. I can’t live with the anxiety thinking Namjoon is going to break a bone or two running into something.”

“Oh my god. I think he’d hurt himself even more trying to figure out baby locks,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Damn, you’re right. He’d probably break those baby locks without trying.”

Yoongi laughed, stroking Jimin’s hair, “He’s lived a solid 23 years, I think he’ll be fine.”

“Then by all means, I’m set.”

Yoongi leaned in to kiss Jimin deeply, pulling his body flush against Jimin’s. One lick across Jimin’s bottom lip had the younger boy opening his mouth for Yoongi to lick into, causing Jimin’s hold around his neck to tighten. Yoongi let his hands trail from Jimin’s hair back down to his waist, gripping onto Jimin’s firm sides as they kissed. Yoongi’s thigh brushed up against Jimin’s exposed™ dick, and he could feel the younger man start to harden. He broke the kiss, panting heavily against Jimin’s neck “We should stop before you get too excited. You’re probably sore from last night. I mean, unless, you want to of course.”

Jimin whimpered under his breath, last night definitely left him sore, but Yoongi’s touch was so intoxicating, so addicting, he couldn’t get enough of it. “Just...one more kiss.” He breathed, drawing Yoongi back in, closing off the space between the two.

Yoongi complied with ease, moving his mouth against Jimin’s with urgency. His mouth eventually trailed off of Jimin’s and down his jaw, pausing momentarily where his jaw and neck collide to leave a small mark. Once he was content with the little bruise, he continued kissing down Jimin’s neck, leaving soft ‘I love you’s’ on his skin as he went.

Jimin’s fingers curled up in his hair, tilting his head. “Y-Yoongi…” He sighed, his skin growing hot from the contact.

Yoongi continued kissing down past Jimin’s collarbones and between his pectorals, resisting the urge to move slightly left or right and grab one of Jimin’s nipples between his teeth. He followed Jimin’s happy trail down to his navel and moved his mouth over to Jimin’s hip bone, beginning to leave a mark there as well.

“Yoongi...hyung, please.” Jimin trembled.

“Please what,” Yoongi asked, looking up at Jimin with hooded eyes.

“Please just, fuck me.” He begged, his voice shaking.

Yoongi smiled and brought himself back up to meet Jimin’s face, “Baby, I know you’re not ready for anal sex again.” He leaned in for a kiss, “But I can help you get off.” His hand moved from Jimin’s waist and brushed up against Jimin’s dick. “Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes hyung, please.” His body hitched at the touch, soft moans of desperation escaping his lips.

Yoongi smiled and brought his hand up to his mouth and spit in it, “I’m sorry baby. I have to use my spit as lube again.” He brought his hand back down and wrapped it around Jimin’s erect cock. “We’ll make sure to bring it tonight when we go back to our place for clothes and food. How’s that sound, baby? Honestly, we’re lucky I stashed a condom in my jacket pocket.” Yoongi purred, slowly pumping Jimin as he spoke.

“O-our place...I like the sound of that.” Jimin struggled to keep his words together.

“God Jimin, hearing you say our place is almost orgasmic,” Yoongi cooed, pumping Jimin to the pace of his light hip thrusts. “Tell me what we will do together in our place.” Yoongi grabbed hold of his own dick, which had been pleading for attention since he started hardcore making out with Jimin and paced himself with Jimin’s rhythm.

Jimin dug his fingers into Yoongi’s skin, his back arching as electricity rushed through his veins. “We,” He inhaled, trying to find his voice. “We’ll do a terrible job trying to cook food,” A chuckle escaped his lips. “We’ll read books on the couch on rainy days. Sit by the fireplace when it snows.”

Yoongi smiled and took Jimin’s lips between his, “What else baby?”

“We’ll adopt a dog, a little puppy and raise it ourselves. I’ll make you coffee every morning before I go to class. I’ll give you blow jobs while you’re trying to compose music.” Jimin teased, a smirk growing across his lips.

Yoongi moaned at the thought of Jimin sucking him off in his private music room, and quickened his pace, leading them both close to their high. “Baby that sounds so fucking beautiful.”

“We’re gonna be so fucking domestic,” A whimper escaped his lips, his body slowly reaching its limit. “In our house.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi moaned, his cock threatened to spill its load as Jimin -- with a shaky voice -- said ‘our house’ again. “Baby I’m so close, Keep talking to me baby, your voice is all I need,” Yoongi commanded.

“I love you Min Yoongi,” He cried, a shudder rushing down his spine. “I love you so much and I can’t wait to do all these things with you and outdo how domestic our roommates are. I’ll spend every single day making you smile and tell you how much I love you and how much you deserve to be the happiest person in the world.”

Yoongi’s lips found Jimin’s as he harshly kissed the man under him, and brought them both to climax.

Cries escaped from Jimin as his body convulsed from the release. “Yoongi, fuck…” He panted, their eyes meeting as Jimin studied his features. His fingers grazed over Yoongi’s swollen lips and gave him the faintest grin. With a push, he flipped the two around so Yoongi was flat on the bed with Jimin lying on top. He leaned forward, sending trails of kisses down to the nape of his neck, leaving a few more love marks to add to the growing collection scattered across his delicate skin.

“Jimin, baby. I love you,” Yoongi breathed, his fingers tangling in Jimin’s hair as the younger kissed and nipped at his neck. “I love you so much, my heart might burst.”

Jimin left another bruise on the collarbone and lifted his head with a small smile. He leaned in, their noses brushing. “I love you too, Min Yoongi. My Yoongi.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m gonna go shower. I need to get all this off me” Jimin grinned, gesturing to his stomach. “And as wonderful as it sounds to lay here all day, we’re going to need to eat at some point. Especially after that teaspoon sized dinner last night. Besides, this place has a buffet!” He squealed. “All you can eat!” He pulled up the warm blanket, wrapping it over his head and body and hopped off the bed.

“Oh, shower time?” Yoongi smiled, following Jimin out of bed. “The only activity that could be better than sleeping with you is showering with you.” Jimin rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop Yoongi from walking into the bathroom with him.

“You’re a clingy one, aren’t you?” Jimin giggled as he started the shower and wiped his stomach with tissues, Yoongi’s following his. While waiting for it to heat up, He pulled the blanket closer against his skin as they stood in the cold bathroom. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda like it.”

Yoongi smiled and wrapped his arms around Jimin, “Good. Because I’m stuck to you like the annoying piece of gum on the bottom of your shoe.”

“But a lot less annoying,” Jimin stated, stepping into the hot shower with Yoongi following behind, mentally thanking the hotel for always having shampoo and soap in stock since they forgot literally everything. He proceeded to wash himself off and playfully rubbed the shampoo into Yoongi’s hair, attempting to make a mohawk as he burst into laughter.

“I feel like Jimmy Neutron,” Yoongi mumbled as his hair flopped into his forehead. He poured shampoo on his hand and turned around to face Jimin, generously lathering his head.

“An attractive Jimmy Neutron, might I add.” Jimin pointed out, wiping the bubbles away from his face.

Yoongi booped Jimin’s nose, leaving a soapy snout behind, “Hell yeah I am.”

After the two finished washing up and making mustaches out of bubbles, they stepped out of the shower, the bathroom foggy from the steam. Jimin buried his face into a fluffy towel, drying himself. “God,” He mumbled. “Even the towels here feel like luxury. Do you think they’ll track me down if I steal one for myself?”

“They’ll probably just add it to the room charge,” Yoongi shrugged, toweling his hair dry.

“Damn, it’ll probably be expensive too.” Jimin went back out the bedroom, a groan escaping his lips as he scanned the mess of clothes scattered across the floor. “We were so hasty...we even forgot a change of clothes.” He laughed to himself. “Hyung, now we really got to go back to our place and get our things.”

Yoongi chuckled, pulling his pants on, “Yeah, let’s go. I can’t justify going to see Fall Out Boy in this fucking suit. Let’s put like jeans on,” Yoongi smiled, holding his hand out for Jimin to take.

Jimin finished putting on his suit from the night before and reached his hand out, their fingers intertwining as they left the hotel room, Jimin quickly snatching their card key beforehand. “I second this, as much as we both know I look hot in this suit, it gets so uncomfortable. I need my comfy sweater.” Jimin pouted, following Yoongi down the hall until they reached the elevator. “Oh, I forgot to mention before, but I bought a little something for us.”

Yoongi perked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

Jimin grinned as the elevator doors opened, pulling Yoongi in with him. “You’ll see, I left it in my bag back at our place.” The metal doors closed and Jimin’s eyes rose in surprise at their reflection, their necks covered in bruises, obvious ones. “Oh my god hyung, look at us.” He pointed out. “Taetae is never going to let me live this down.”

“Flaunt it. Rub it in his face. I dunno.” Yoongi shoved his free hand into his pocket and clicked his tongue. “Don’t let it embarrass you.”

“Oh I won’t,” Jimin grinned. “I’ll make sure the whole world sees this. It’s not a bad look.”

“I think it looks hot,” Yoongi smirked, reaching over to lightly stroke Jimin’s neck.

“Full credits to you.” He beamed as the elevator slowly made its way to the first floor. “I can get used to this.”

“Good,” Yoongi smiled and pressed a kiss to Jimin’s cheek. “This is us now.”

“Ohhhhh, I can’t wait to tell Jin!” Jimin exclaimed as the elevator doors opened up to the lobby. “I’m practically a son of his. I’ll finally be living with my parents.” The two exited the hotel toward Namjoon’s car.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and gave Jimin a fond smile, “Well, at least you’re excited.” They walked up to Namjoon’s car, and Yoongi opened the door for Jimin. The younger boy slid into the passenger seat and buckled himself in. Yoongi leaned down for a quick kiss before he shut the door and walked over to the driver side. “Off to fetch our luggage!” He exclaimed, turning the key in the ignition.

Jimin smiled as the rap that was last playing faded and Beethoven’s 5th Symphony came on. He stifled his laughter, baffled by the variety of music that Namjoon had. Their drive home was a comfortable silence with the music softly playing in the background. As they reached their house, Jimin jumped out of the car and ran into the house screaming. “Mom, dad, I’m home!”

Jin pokes his head out of the kitchen, “I thought you two were on a romantic getaway.”

“We were,” Yoongi chuckled. “But it seems we forgot to grab our overnight bags in our haste to leave yesterday.”

“I thought I raised you two better than this,” Jin sighed.

Jimin gave him an innocent shrug. “I was a little excited okay. But mom, mom, guess what!”

Jin arched an eyebrow, “You had sex?”

Jimin coughed violently. “Um, that’s not what I was going to say, but this decision was made shortly afterwards in fact!”

“Hmm, well first I hope you two followed my instruction and practiced safe sex,” Jin said with a faux scold. “But, what else happened, Jiminnie?”

“I’m moving in!’ Jimin shouted, throwing his arms in the air excitedly. “Your son is living here now!”

Jin looks wide-eyes from Jimin to Yoongi, “You’re moving in, huh?”

“And paying my portion of rent, don’t you worry. I’ll even chip in on your groceries!” He leaned in. “Cause god knows both of these boys have a tendency to forget about paying for your culinary skills.” Jimin whispered

“Actually, Yoongi is a big help in the kitchen. You found yourself a man who can cook nearly as good as I can,” Jin replied, loud enough for Yoongi to hear.

“What?” Jimin whipped his head around dramatically. “My Yoongi can cook? Hyung, why didn’t you ever tell me!”

“There’s never been a reason to,” Yoongi shrugged.

“I thought-but-damn...you’re right.” His eyebrows rose. “Hyung will you make me food as a welcoming gift?” He batted his eyelashes, wrapping his arms around one of Yoongi’s. “I want to try hyung’s cooking.”

Yoongi looked over to Jimin with a soft smile on his lips, “Anything you want, love.”

“My God, you are so fucking whipped.” Jin laughed.

“Leave my man alone, he’s cute when he’s like this.” Jimin defended, his eyes forming into crescents when he gave Yoongi a wide smile. “Soft Yoongi is my favorite Yoongi.”

“Okay, but my question is, how soft is he in bed?” Jin questioned. “Seems like he’d be rough and dominating.”

Jimin’s ears turned red. “That’s only for me to know and for you to never find out.” He teased, grinning. “There are just some things you’ll have to rely on your imagination for.”

“Except me fucking you. Don’t imagine that,” Yoongi pointed to Jin with a frown.

Jimin snorted as Namjoon wandered into the room, clad in underwear and his hair ruffled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Honey bunny buns, what’s all the ruckus about?” He whined, before spotting the two. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in the hotel having sex?”

“Why does everyone assume that’s all we’re doing today?” Jimin huffed, flailing his arms.

“Because, they know how long I’ve been alone with naught but my hand to satisfy my needs,” Yoongi shrugged.

“Yeah, moaning Jimin’s name as he gets himself off,” Jin snickered.

“Thank god that’s over now.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “He can escape to Jimin’s place to satisfy his needs and it’ll finally quiet down here.”

Yoongi chuckled, “Yeah about that.”

“Jimin is coming to live with us, hun,” Jin said, patting Namjoon’s shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Namjoon’s eyebrows rose. “We’re never gonna get any peace and quiet now.” He whined, letting out a groan. “In fact it might only get louder from here with this young love happening in front of us.”

“Sorry Joonie-hyung, just sleep with ear plugs from now on.” Jimin gave him a innocent smile.

“Oh, wah-wah. I’ve had to listen to you two since you got together. Consider this my revenge. I’ll make sure Jimin keeps you up all night.” Yoongi threatened.

“I need to warm up my vocal chords anyway.” Jimin boasted.

“So he is a dom,” Jin mused to himself.

“Jesus fuck, I don’t need to hear about this.” Namjoon complained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Also, Jin. I’m not exclusively a dom,” Yoongi directed at the older boy.

Jin let out a small gasp, “Joonie we should try switching sometime.”

“Oh, I haven’t thought about that. It’ll add a little more fun, let’s try tonight baby boo.” He lightly booped Jin’s nose.

“And...that’s our cue to leave.” Jimin grabbed his hand, leading Yoongi to his room. “Oh hyung! My surprise!” He exclaimed as they entered the room, rifling through his small duffle bag, pulling out an insta-x, the same shade of mint as Yoongi’s old hair color. “I wanted us to take pictures of our adventures from here on out, but I did some thinking. Now that we’re living together, I thought we can cover one of our walls with our photos.”

Yoongi smiled and pointed to the wall his bed rested against, “There’s our blank canvas. We can get some fairy lights and clothespins and clip our photos onto the strands. How’s that sound, Jiminnie?”

Jimin lifted up the camera, taking a quick snap of his soft expression while he spoke, grinning as a little blank card popped out. “It’s a perfect idea.” He pulled out the card, waiting for it to develop.

Yoongi walked over to Jimin and put his hands on his waist, “Just know for every one picture you take of me, I’m taking ten of you and your beautiful face.” He leaned in and kissed Jimin’s lips. “Your beautiful, beautiful face.”

A blush crept up his cheeks as Jimin grinned. “For every picture you take of me, I’ll take hundreds of us. These walls will be covered before you know it.”

“Then we’ll have to move out into our own house so we can fill those walls,” Yoongi smiled.

“I look very much forward to that day.” He beamed. “So let’s fill these walls.” He lifted up the camera facing them and nudging himself as close to Yoongi as possible, smiling until there was the sound of a light shutter and a small card popping out again.

“Jimin, I love you,” Yoongi smiled.

“I love you too, Min Yoongi.” He replied and glanced down at the two cards, one already finished developing. “Look at your face.” He grinned, adoring the expression Yoongi had on his face while he was pointing at the wall, speaking. “Actually, this one I’m going to keep in my phone case.” He waved the second picture as it was nearly done. “This one of us can be our first picture that goes up.”

Yoongi smiled as he let go of Jimin and walked over to his desk, grabbing a piece of tape and rolling it up. He gently took the photo from Jimin and stuck the tape on the back before he knelt on the bed and crawled over to the wall to stick it up. “There.”

Jimin let out a squeal, clapping his hands. “I can’t wait to watch this grow. Let’s go on a lot of trips out of the country and take pictures there too. Europe! Let’s go to Europe!” His expression brighted, growing excited at the thought.

“Baby, we’ll go wherever you want. Pick a country, and we’ll go,” Yoongi smiled. “Once these winter recitals are over, I’m free for a little bit from teaching the kids piano.”

“Min Yoongi, do you know why I said Europe?”

“No. Why?”

“It’s the origin of the piano, the very heart of music. Do you know how many museums there are that we could go see? All the music, all the dancing?” His smile grew. “There’s even a Beethoven House with all the original instruments. I hear the food is great too, so that’s an added bonus.”

Yoongi smiled, revealing his gums to the younger boy, “I could kiss you right now. Wow. I - I honestly don’t know what to say, except fuck yes. Three month anniversary. We’re going to Europe!” Yoongi grabbed onto Jimin and spun him around in his glee, setting him down on the bed and following it up with a passionate kiss. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Only a few times I think.” Jimin pondered. “Can you remind me again?”

Yoongi kissed down Jimin’s jaw and neck, whispering a small “I love you,” with each one.

Soft moans escaped from Jimin’s lips, and then after an idea came to him, his moans suddenly grew loud and ridiculous, followed by laughter. He could faintly hear Namjoon groan in disgust and curse out loud in the other room. “Just giving the boys a welcoming gift.” Jimin snickered.

“I mean I can rock the bed too and we can give em the full Easy A stunt,” Yoongi winked.

“We could do that, and then give them the full show on my first night here.” He wriggled his eyebrows with a teasing smile. “Nothing beats the real deal.”

“Why tease when they’ll get it all tomorrow night?” Yoongi smiled mischievously. “Which reminds me, let’s change. We have a lunch buffet to devour.”

“And a concert to attend to.” Jimin pointed out as he rolled off the bed, peeling off his formal wear to change into a black, short sleeved shirt followed by black pants that hugged against his toned thighs. He slipped on a white jacket and ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it up. “I don’t exactly know what to wear for the concert, but this works, right?”

“Baby, you look good in anything. You could show up to the concert in a potato sack and heads would turn,” Yoongi stated as he pulled on a pair of tight black pants and a white Union Jack tee. he strapped on black suspenders and a white bomber jacket before shoving his feet into a pair of Union Jack Doc Martens.

“H-hyung…” Jimin stammered, scanning him from head to toe. Without hesitation, he picked up his instax from the desk and snapped a picture. “This is one hell of a look, I love it sugar lips.” He pulled out the card and set it on the desk to develop. “Are you ready to go?” Jimin asked as he zipped up the small duffle bag, slipping it over his shoulder, holding out a hand for Yoongi to take.

Yoongi smiled and took Jimin’s hand into his own. “You look so good, Jimin. Baby, you’re so beautiful. Thank you for spending these past two months with me.”

“Anything just to be with my Yoongi.” Jimin beamed as they exited their bedroom, taking one last glance at the small polaroid taped to the wall.

“Oh, you guys finished up quickly.” Namjoon’s voice echoed from the other room. “I take it you had a rather enjoyable warming up your vocal chords Chim?”

Jimin replied with a snort. “I sure did, Joonie-hyung. It’s good to warm them up often.” He sniggered as Namjoon cursed quietly to himself. “We got everything so we won’t plan on coming back until tomorrow so, uh, go crazy.” Jimin grinned. “But don’t sprain anything, alright?”

Jimin squealed and left the house with Yoongi as Namjoon chucked couch pillows toward him. “I love living here already.” He sighed happily, exchanging smiles with Yoongi as they walked back to the car.

“Good. You’ll settle in quickly. I’m still so shocked you agreed to live with us though.”

“I didn’t want to wait any longer. I already go to your house so often anyway, it may as well be easier to bring my pillow and keep it there forever.” Jimin shrugged.

“We can get matching couple toothbrushes too,” Yoongi giggled, opening the passenger door for Jimin.

“I call the pink brush!” Jimin shouted before thanking Yoongi for the door, leaving a small peck on his cheek and went inside of the car. As Yoongi entered as well, Jimin leaned over. “Or we can get Kakao emoji toothbrushes.”

“In that case, I call Muzi,” Yoongi laughed.

“I call Apeach, it’s head looks like a little mochi. We’re practically twins!”

Yoongi’s laugh filled the entire car. He smiled as he made his way back to the hotel, holding Jimin’s hand on the centre console. The two kept stealing glances at each other, and would chuckle as they accidentally made eye contact.

When Yoongi pulled up to the hotel and parked, Jimin grabbed his bag and got out of the car. As they walked toward the hotel entrance, Jimin ran over, joining Yoongi and clung onto his arm like an annoying girlfriend with a wide smile. They entered the lounge, walking past the old, white piano sitting in the middle of the room with a view to the waterfall.

Yoongi stopped walking as they reached the piano and sat down on the bench. He looked at Jimin with a soft smile, and adjusted his hands on the keys. A soft melody flowed from the ivory keys, and Yoongi closed his eyes. The song poured out of him, his hands moving mechanically thanks to the countless times he played it in his studio. He opened his eyes as the melody became softer and glanced over at Jimin. A smile spread across his lips as he watched the younger boy stare at him in awe and wonder, finally hearing his song being played for him.

Jimin watched in admiration as Yoongi played his song, all his love and attention being poured into each note. The melody was so soft, so calming. He could listen to it a million times over again. Each key he played struck a chord in him, his chest tightening. He could feel the emotion Yoongi put into the song. Unknowingly, a tear ran down his cheek as he closed his eyes, attentively listening to his song play, a soft smile growing across his lips.

Other guests had walked over to the piano to listen, awe on their faces as Yoongi continued playing. He smirked as he played on, feeling a sense of pride as these strangers enjoyed Jimin’s song. A song he wrote for his boyfriend. He finished with a soft press of the keys and stood up, giving a small bow as the people around him applauded. He grabbed his suitcase and held out his other hand for Jimin to take, and the two made their way to the elevators.

Jimin took Yoongi’s hand, gesturing toward him to the audience as they left. “That’s my boyfriend.” He whispered to them, proudly boasting. As they reached the elevator, Jimin pressed the button, watching one of the doors open. The two entered and the doors closed, taking them back up to their floor. “That song,” Jimin bought up. “It was really beautiful. Thank you.”

“Anything for the man I love,” Yoongi smiled.

Jimin returned a loving smile as they waited for the elevator to arrive at their floor. Once the doors opened, the two exited, Jimin letting go of Yoongi’s hand and skipping happily down the hall, humming the tune of the song Yoongi played, until they reached the door to their room. He unlocked it with his card key and tossed the bag onto the small couch. “Ready to feast until we explode?”

“Baby, I was born ready. That fancy meal was so tiny last night,” Yoongi sighed, throwing his bag down next to Jimin’s.

“We’ll eat so much more than the size of your emotional capacity now.” Jimin joked, but his laugh faded. “Although, dare I say, it has increased?”

“Baby, I could tell you that I love you with all my heart, and it wouldn’t be enough to let you know how much I really love you,” Yoongi smiled, stroking Jimin’s hair as he spoke.

“It’s definitely not a teaspoon anymore.” Jimin whispered. “It’s as big as the universe now. Like mine.” He pulled Yoongi toward the door, exiting out of their room toward the lobby that held the buffet. He could smell the food lingering down the hall as they entered the large room, rows of hot and fresh food ready to be served. Jimin’s eyes grew wide at the sight, setting off a rumble in his stomach. “Hyung...there’s so much.” He grew overwhelmed, unsure as to where to start.

“Just fill your plate and go back for more,” Yoongi said, piling random food on his plate.

Jimin’s eyes glimmered at the sight of the food in front of them and grabbed two plates to fill up for starters. He grabbed as much meat as one could hold and the second plate covered in vegetables and pasta for him to try. Once their plates were full, Jimin carefully held his and scanned the room for a table, spotting an empty one by a large window. He carried his plates there, setting them both down and stood by the window, looking at the view of the city with awe.

Yoongi followed behind, setting his plate down at the spot across from Jimin and walking over next to him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled the younger boy into his side with a smile, “Quite a view, isn’t it?”

“When we get our own place, I want to live somewhere high. As high as Namsan. I’ll never get sick of this view.”

“We could probably find something in Itaewon that’s nice and high for you. Or just stay in the heart of Seoul,” Yoongi mused. He rested his head on Jimin’s shoulder with a chuckle, “I will do all necessary research to find you the most beautiful apartment in the tallest building possible.”

“But,” Jimin chimed in. “we would also have to find a space with an extra room. For your music studio, and an area to fit a piano in. I can never grow sick of hearing you play it.”

“And I will never grow tired of playing for you.” Yoongi brought his hand up from Jimin’s waist, and started stroking his hair, “When we get home tomorrow, let’s make a binder full of shit we want to do together and what our dream home will look like and fucking everything we could ever want to do in the future. Kinda like a bucket list, so we can see exactly everything we dream of together.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Jimin leaned into his shoulder, his mind already reeling with an overwhelming amount of ideas.

“Let’s eat, and discuss this as we go,” Yoongi decided, letting go of Jimin and walking over to his spot. He sat down and began shoveling food into his mouth, “Yah, this is delicious. Eat up, baby boy. I know you’re hungry.”

“Hungry? I’m starving.” Jimin joined Yoongi at the table, taking a few bites of the meat as if he felt like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. He shoved even more food in his mouth, his eyes closing as he groaned in satisfaction. “This is so good.” He mumbled to himself, knowing that there will be more plates of food to come after the first round. “The binder can wait, this is the best thing in the world.” His voice was muffled, his mouth full of food as he stabbed his fork into the pasta, twirling it around.

Yoongi chuckled as Jimin ate like he was a starving child, “Baby, slow down. You’ll give yourself a stomach ache.”

Jimin gave him an innocent giggle before taking another bite of his pasta, clearing up one of the plates in a matter of minutes. “I’m just taking advantage of this buffet to the fullest.” He peered around the room suspiciously and leaned in closely. “You think anyone will notice if I sneak some of this bread in my pockets and bring them back to our room?”

“Baby, you could take a plate of food to your room. It’s the hotel buffet.”

Jimin’s threw his fists in the air in excitement. “As much as sex is great and all, I’m going to do nothing but eat all night. Sorry honey.” He teased, shrugging apologetically and ate another piece of meat.

Yoongi laughed, “Ah, my Jiminnie. You are so wonderful.”

“So are you, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crooned, waving his utensil toward him. “Alright,” He was halfway finished with the second plate. “Let’s get back to this binder of adventures.”

Yoongi smiled, chewing the bite of food he had just put in his mouth before speaking. “What are you thinking, Jiminnie?”

“First and foremost is our trip to Europe.”

“Obviously,” Yoongi smiled. His eyes lit up as he thought of something new, “Let’s go to America too! Could you imagine? The two of us in America!” Yoongi pondered the idea for a moment, “Fuck, we don’t know enough English to travel abroad. We have to bring Joonie with us. He’s the only one fluent in English.”

“If we bring Namjoon, he’s obviously going to bring Jin. If Hoseok finds out the four of us would go to America, he would invite himself along. At some point, Taehyung would find out through Hoseok’s big mouth and bring himself with Kookie. It’s just going to turn into a big family trip. But…” A smile creeped up his lips. “I like the idea of that though.”

“All seven of us having a Western adventure. It sounds like the best holiday ever. I mean, a trip with just the two of us would be fantastic, and I’m sure one day we’ll do it. But thinking about having the others with us brings a different kind of excitement to my heart. You feel me?”

“If our group chats are already crazy, imagine how wild it’ll get with all seven of us in America. America. The land of the crazies. It’s going to be a blast. Too bad Kookie wouldn’t be able to drink there yet.” Jimin chuckled, clearing the last meat on his plate.

“Fuck, let’s do it.”

Chat With international boys

2016.02.15

12:46

SUGA:

Hey fuckers

I have an idea.

please hear me out on this master plan

The.V.Zone:

wow

u guys stopped havin sex

to tell us ur master plan

the dedication

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

dID U GUYS DO THE FUCK?

SUGA:

Tae shut the fuck up

we haven’t even had penetrative sex today

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

thEY FUCKIN DID IT YALL

can jimin walk yet?

or did you totally destROY his ass

SUGA:

Jimin can walk perfectly fine

it’s called prepping

and I know how to fucking do that ok

iq.148:

not only did they fuck but

they came home with news

that jimin is moving in

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

JIMIN FUCKING WHAT?

The.V.Zone:

my bby boo is leaving me :(

Worldwide Handsome:

My son is moving in~

So Yoongi

What’s this “master plan”

The.V.Zone:

kooki bby come live with me :)

we can have all the uninterrupted fun now

Kookie Monster:

lik my mom still dsn’t kno we datin

she might kno im gay

idk

but lik

shed prolly let me room wit m bf(f)

The.V.Zone:

kookie bby

lets fuckin tell her tonite

iq.148:

okay kids, leave this coming out talk for your own chat

Yoongz what’s your plan?

SUGA:

Jimin and I were talking about going to Europe and America

so like

We wanna do that

and I realized we don’t know English

so I said we’d have to bring Joonie bc he’s fluent

which then turned into all 5 of you.

what do u think?

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

ur fucking right about including me into this trip i mean, all of us

america is my homeslice

california loves me

and i love california

im gonna fucking pack right now

lets fucking go

Worldwide Handsome:

Hobi, have u ever even BEEN to California?

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i always connected with that place

you wouldn’t understand Hyung

iq.148:

i’d better be treated to something good for doing the translations

for all you idiots

who never passed high school english

The.V.Zone:

Kookie gay marriage is legal in some places there.

let’s get wasted and get married

and then go to vegas

iq.148:

you guys are fucking children

go to the park or something

Kookie Monster:

Tae i lov u n all

but lik

im 20

nd im not rly thinkn bout marrig

also i cnt drink in america

SUGA:

No one is getting married.

this is supposed to be fun

So yah

We wanna plan that shit

Worldwide Handsome:

I for one am looking forward to this.

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

let’s fucking

G O

iq.148:

if we all share a giant hotel room

I call the bed by the window

and yall are buying me alcohol

one bottle per translation

so study up bitches

Worldwide Handsome:

Fuck no, we are not staying in a hotel

air bnb exists for a reason

We’re gonna stay in a fucking nice ass house

and live like KINGS abroad

iq.148:

this is why I love you smoochy poo

The.V.Zone:

*gagging noises*

SUGA:

smoochy poo

Jiminnie

never let me call you something that terrible

k, baby boy?

Mochi_Moves:

that’s going to give me nightmares

maybe we’re the ones that are going to

need ear plugs in our house

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

i need to find myself a man

who will call me snuggluffagus

iq.148:

what the fuck

SUGA:

Why am I friends with you

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

thats ur own damn fault sugar beans

ur welcome to leave this friendship anytime

i have jiminie poo anyway

SUGA:

I can’t

I already vowed to name my firstborn after u

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

fuxk

i feel so powerful now

SUGA:

*first adopted

The.V.Zone:

name ur second kid after me

SUGA:

Give me a reason to, then we’ll talk

The.V.Zone:

my existence is already a good enuf reason

SUGA:

absolutely not, tae

Without hoseok

I literally would not have Jimin

Kookie Monster:

fin we wnt nam any of r kids aftr u eithr

The.V.Zone:

we have 2 name one after my precious chimchim

yoongi can be excluded from this however

SUGA:

Thank u

Worldwide Handsome:

I’m not naming any of my children after you lot

burn in hell

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

we fucking know jin

ur kids are literally gonna be

jin jr

jin jr jr

and jin jr jr jr

and maybe the fourth one is Handsome

Worldwide Handsome:

See Joon,

even Hobi thinks we should have 4 kids

iq.148:

Fuck that

i can barely take care of myself

i might snap an arm off of one of those things

Worldwide Handsome:

honey, the good thing about adoption, is that we can

literally skip babies and adopt children who can hit

you back when you do something stupid

iq.148:

what if i break one of their heads open

while they’re learning to ride a bike

or electrocute themselves in my music studio

chiLDREN ARE FRAGILE BUNNY BOO

Worldwide Handsome:

That’s why I’m part of this relationship you door knob

I’m here to protect and nourish, you’re here to

well, you’re here, sweet cheeks.

iq.148:

that actually makes me feel a whole lot better

thank you poopsie

♡

maybe ill consider 1.5 kids for now

bur we’re getting a fuck ton of insurance for these little beasts

SUGA:

Joonie

where is the other half of this child

iq.148:

u kno

in case one of their arms get amputated or something.

shmoopie may be here

but shit is still gonna go down

SUGA:

It’s a really good thing you’re gay

and won’t procreate

Worldwide Handsome:

But imagine if the two of us COULD procreate together

we would make one fucking handsome child

@science, I’m lookin @ u

SUGA:

Wow

When yall free to travel to Europe and America

Hobi_won_kenobi:

as soon as chimchim and i can bust out this final performance

at the end of the semester

we’ll both be fuckin ready to go

if ur talking like

this year

The.V.Zone:

im always ready 2 go

i can buss my birthday money on these trips

my professors can deal with an absence or two

SUGA:

I’m talkin asap guys

whenever the fuck we can all just GO

a spontaneous holiday

iq.148:

i say when summer starts

The.V.Zone:

agREED

Worldwide Handsome:

yes! I’m down.

Kookie Monster:

holup

SUGA:

i bet you all $50 he’s asking his mom

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

yall

yoongz made a fucking bet

tae u owe me 60 now

The.V.Zone:

fuCKU HOSEOK

SUGA:

Kookie Monster:

Mom says I cn go if I end th semestr wit As & Bs

SUGA:

See

i fucking called it

The.V.Zone:

cum over boo

i’ll tutor u

;) ;) ;)

Worldwide Handsome:

Do you WANT your boyfriend to fail?

Let Joon help you out, Kookie.

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

no one fuckin agreed to bet against you yoongi

ur not cool enough for this

iq.148:

come over after your classes and i’ll help you

i’ll throw in some of jins cooking too

Kookie Monster:

Sorry bab, I trust Joon wit skool more thn u

nothn prsnl

he jst a genius

iq.148:

my id isn’t fucking iq.148 for nothing

study up bitches

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

YAY America this summer it is!

im fucking PSyCHe DD

SUGA:

first of all I totally am cool enough to make a bet

right Jiminnie~~~~?

second of all I’m glad you are all in on this

Mochi_Moves:

you’re the coolest person in this chat sugar lips <3

The.V.Zone:

excuz me bitch

Mochi_Moves:

second coolest

SUGA:

what now

have fun sleeping in the guest room, Jiminnie

The.V.Zone:

move ur ass back here

i would nvr kick you out

Mochi_Moves:

you lock me out of our place twice a week tae

SUGA:

SEE

FIRST COOLEST BELONGS TO ME

I’D NEVER

IN FACT, I’D LOCK HIM IN WITH ME

that sounds creepy

nevermind

Jimin can do what he wants when he wants where he wants

in /our/ home.

Mochi_Moves:

actually

that sounds rather intriguing

lock me in a room with you c:

Hobi_wan_kenobi:

is jimin fucking kinkier than we think he is?

fuckin

SUGA:

Don’t worry

I’ll take one for the team and find out

Mochi_Moves:

iq.148:

why does this concern me

SUGA:

Any screaming you may hear from now on

is consensual.

i promise.

iq.148:

jesus fuck

jujubee, we need to find our own place now

Worldwide Handsome:

out kink them.

eh?

iq.148:

O H

the games have begun

Kookie Monster:

y do i feel lik ur hom is gon turn into a sex dungn

I feel dirty thinkn bout it

iq.148:

kook

ur 6

you’re not supposed to know what a sex dungeon is

The.V.Zone:

Hobi_wan_kenobi left the chat.

iq.148:

im noping the fUCK OUT OF THIS CHAT

Worldwide Handsome:

I just

Tae, you’re crushing his innocent soul

Mochi_Moves:

ヽ(ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ

Yoongi looked up from his phone with a laugh, “God, I can’t believe our friends sometimes. And you know, it’s always fucking Tae who gets everyone to leave the chat. What the fuck is up with that?”

Jimin threw his head back in laughter, replying with a shrug. “That’s just how Taetae is. What a beautiful friendship.” He wiped a tear away from laughing so hard and stabbed a fork into one of the meats on his fourth plate of food.

“What do you figure we should do until the concert tonight? We have that whole room to lounge in. We have a fucking bathtub with jets. The day is yours, Jiminnie. What do you want?”

“Joonie texted me earlier and said he slipped some video games into my bag. We can hook it up to the tv in there and watch me beat your ass.” Jimin grinned. “After our luxurious bath of course.”

Yoongi grinned wide, “That sounds heavenly.”

“But,” Jimin spoke up. “On the way, there’s somewhere I want us to go to.”

“Anywhere, baby.”

“We have to leave a lock at Namsan.” Jimin smiled and resumed eating his food.

“Of course. Yes. Let’s do it. We’ll go get a lock and write our names on it and lock it up for everyone to see how much we love each other.”

“Next time on one of our anniversaries, let’s get dinner at the top of the tower! There’s a really nice restaurant there.

Yoongi smiled at the thought of taking Jimin up to the restaurant at the top of the tower, “Of course, baby. Maybe we can get wine there too,” he added with a wink.

“Lot’s of wine!” Jimin exclaimed. “That’s going in our adventure binder.” He sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “There’s nothing more romantic than a date at Namsan. You know, when we put our names on a lock and throw the key away, it means our love is supposed to be eternal.” He bit on his fork, a dreamy smile growing across his lips.

“Good,” Yoongi nodded. “I don’t want our love to be anything less than eternal. More than is okay, but not less than.” He smiled, watching Jimin stare off out the window and knew the younger was concocting a fantasy of his own in his head.

His gaze wavered back toward Yoongi, taking in the sight in front of him. “You know,” Jimin finally spoke up. “I don’t get what our friends say about you being a cold hearted person. I never saw it in you, even from the start. You’re literally like a teddy bear.” Every time Yoongi smiled, Jimin’s insides melted. Whenever he spoke, he turned into putty. Even the first time they met at the cafe, Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He just simply didn’t understand why he was so intimidating to others. Yoongi was in fact, the softest person Jimin had ever met.

“I have a bad case of resting bitch face, and it scares people away from me,” Yoongi shrugged. “It’s how I weed out the weak ones.”

“I must be the strongest weed in your garden.” Jimin giggled

“You must. I can’t seem to get you out of my garden. But then again, I haven’t actually tried to.”

“Mmm,” Jimin scrunched his nose. “Don’t plan on trying. I already spread out and took over your whole garden.”

Yoongi stood up and walked over to where Jimin was still seated. He leaned down and placed a hard kiss on Jimin’s cheek and held out his hand for the younger to grab onto. He helped Jimin out of his seat and pulled him into a tight hug. “I want this whole damn hotel to know how much I love my Jiminnie.”

Jimin tightened his fist into the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt, his nose burying into the crook of his neck. “When we get to Namsan, I want the whole damn world to know how much I love you.”

Yoongi felt like he had a smile permanently etched into his face, but it didn’t bother him. He enjoyed the overwhelming feeling of happiness Jimin brought him. He loved the fact that he didn’t need to feel sorry for himself when Jimin was around. If a permanent smile was the price to pay for loving Jimin with his whole heart, then so be it. He unwrapped himself from Jimin, and pulled the younger along back to the room, “I have a lock in my bag. Let’s grab it and make our way to Namsan.”

“You...you have a lock?” Jimin asked with a surprised expression, following him back to their room. “You’re prepared for anything, aren’t you Min Yoongi?” A smile creeped up his lips. “Why do I feel like we’re the two disgustingly-in-love main couple of a rom-com movie?”

“I went to the gym the other day and forgot to take it out, but this is a better use for that lock anyways,” Yoongi shrugged.

“It works perfectly. The locks there are overpriced anyway.” They eventually reached their room, entering it after inserting the card key as Jimin watched Yoongi shuffle through his bag. His expression radiated when Yoongi found the small lock. “Got a sharpie in there too by any chance?” He squatted down beside him.

Yoongi shoved a few things aside, sticking his tongue out in concentration as his hand felt around the bottom of his bag for the familiar marker he knew was hiding inside. He let out an “ah ha!” as he gripped onto his lonely black sharpie and held it out like Link would hold his heart container. “I have a marker and a lock, who needs capitalism?” Yoongi smirked.

“Capitalism can suck it!” Jimin shouted before falling into a fit of laughter. “You’re always so handy Min Yoongi.” He stood up from the floor, brushing the dark hair out of his eyes. “Let’s go show the world how disgustingly cute we are together.”

“God, I want nothing more than that,” Yoongi sang out as he followed Jimin out of the hotel room.

Hands intertwined with Yoongi’s, Jimin led him out of the hotel and searched around the street. “Let’s take a bus to Namsan and then a stroll up the hill from there. It’ll be such a nuisance to try parking anywhere near that place.” He pulled him toward the bus stop, a bus luckily arriving right as they got there. They swiped their cards as they entered the vehicle, picking an empty spot toward the back. The bus wasn’t as crowded as Jimin expected, it was quiet except for the hum of the engine and a song playing softly in the background. He leaned his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, fiddling around with the lock in his hands.

Yoongi smiled at the contact, and wrapped his arm around Jimin, pulling him close. He leaned his head against Jimin and closed his eyes, taking a moment to relax. “Let’s write on the lock now so it’s all ready to lock up when we get there,” Yoongi suggested.

Jimin beamed at the idea. “It’s your lock, so you write your message first.” He tilted his head up, setting the lock into his hands.

“Jimin, my love for you surpasses the sound of the seventh trumpet,” Yoongi muttered as he wrote as small as he could on the back of the lock. He left enough room for Jimin to put his message underneath.

Jimin grinned widely, feeling his ears burn as he heard Yoongi’s mumble. When he was done, Jimin took the lock from him and bit his lip, thinking of a short message to write. When an idea came to him, he squinted and wrote the little note underneath Yoongi’s and added their names along the edges with a heart at the end. He proudly showed Yoongi the lock with a dorky grin. The note read ‘Our love goes to infinity and beyond.’

Yoongi knew the grin on his face was equally as dorky as Jimin’s but he didn’t care. Everyone in the bus could have been staring at them at that moment, but it didn’t mean a thing to Yoongi if he had Jimin in his arms. He kissed the side of Jimin’s head and whispered “I love you,” into his ear, and in the moment, it felt so intimate.

Jimin’s cheeks flushed as he looked down at the lock in his hands, admiring their scribbled messages. As dorky they were, it still made something in his chest flutter. The two were in their own little world on the bus, exchanging giggles and smiles. He took Yoongi’s hand in his, massaging little circles on the back of it. “Did I ever say,” He began. “Happy two months?”

“No, but that might have been implied during our morning handjob,” Yoongi smiled coyly.

Jimin sputtered, covering his mouth to suppress his laugh. “I mean, you’re not exactly wrong.”

Yoongi chuckled, “Happy two months, baby boy. Here’s to many more.”

“And to the best trip to America with our dysfunctional family.” He chimed in. “Happy two months, sugar lips.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

The bus came to a stop, Yoongi nudged Jimin that it was time to get off, and the two made their way out hand-in-hand. They approached the entrance to the trail that spiraled up toward Namsan tower. The buildings of the city faded into a forest, trees surrounding them. The brick trail in front of them alternated from stairs to a flat slope. It was a beautiful walk up the hill, the weather cool enough for them to go up comfortably, but it was steep as hell.

Yoongi scrunched his nose as he looked up the hill, “Yah, I’m already tired. Baby, carry me up the hill.”

“You’re so lazy, come on. We’re almost there! Even the ahjummas are passing us.” Jimin grabbed Yoongi’s hand, pulling him up the steep hill. “Look! We’re getting closer to the tower. They have a lot of refreshing drinks and snacks at the end of the trail.

“Good. I’m gonna need some.”

A few turns and whines later, they finally reached the end of the gruesome trail. Jimin was about to take a moment to catch his breath when he caught a glimpse of the tower behind the trees and skipped toward it, jumping up and down. “Yoongi, Yoongi! Hyung, look, it’s right there!” He pointed at the building towering up into the sky.

Yoongi panted, trying to catch his breath as he followed after Jimin. “Jiminnie, wait for hyung.” He took hold of Jimin’s wrist and followed his pace up to the tower.

“Hyung, hyung!” He shook his shoulder excitedly, pulling out his phone. “Can you take a picture of me? I’m going to jump!” Jimin set the phone in Yoongi’s hand, running out into the open space in front of the tower, preparing for his jump-shot.

“On the count of three, baby. Jump for me, okay?” Yoongi requested, holding up Jimin’s phone. “One, two, three!”

Jimin flew up into the air, spreading his arms and legs. A shout erupted from him, as if it would have made the quality of the image better. He landed back on the ground with a thunk and ran up to Yoongi. “Did you get it?” He peered over his shoulder, looking at his phone.

Yoongi pulled up the camera roll and smiled, showing Jimin the picture of him up in the air. “Perfect.”

“Now you! Go on!” He gently pushed Yoongi toward the open area, chuckling at his protests. “Come on, I’ll take a good one of you, I promise!”

Yoongi pouted, but once he turned around and saw Jimin’s smile, his pout disappeared. With a gummy grin, Yoongi gave Jimin two thumbs up when he was ready to go.

“Okay!” He shouted. “Three, two, one, jump!”

Yoongi jumped up in the air, hands stretched up to the sky, and his foot coming out in front of him in a martial arts kick. When he landed, he stumbled over to Jimin to see how the picture turned out.

“Oh,” Jimin pouted, glancing up at Yoongi. “I didn’t get it.”

Yoongi frowned and tried to take Jimin’s phone from his hands to look himself.

Jimin threw himself at Yoongi, laughing. “I was just kidding hyung, I took a perfect one. See!” He swiped to the picture of Yoongi kicking in the air. “As promised.”

Yoongi pinched Jimin’s cheeks in retaliation, “You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

Jimin grinned proudly and swiped through the pictures of them. Before continuing their adventure, he made them take millions of selfies in every angle possible while trying to get the tower in the background. After Jimin was satisfied, he tugged on Yoongi’s sleeve, dragging him all around the area. Jimin hadn’t been to the tower since he was a kid, he had forgotten how pretty everything was, from the little temple perched on the top of the stairs to the sculptures of locks shaped as trees.

Jimin gasped in awe as he went to the viewing area, hanging just off the edge of the hill. The view looked over to the sprawling city of Seoul in between mountains.

“It’s beautiful,” Yoongi breathed.

“I don’t know,” Jimin hummed, leaning against the railing, facing Yoongi. “I found a much more beautiful view than that.” As half serious as he was, it took all his resistance to not cringe at his own words.

Yoongi leaned in and kissed Jimin’s lips, far too fond of the boy in front of him to do anything other than that.

Jimin pulled him in closer, leaning into the kiss, feeling himself grow warm and fuzzy from the embrace. He tilted his head back and smiled at him. “Yeah,” Jimin nodded to himself. “Beats the view. One hundred percent.”

“Let’s put this lock on so I can take you back to the hotel room,” Yoongi purred against Jimin’s jaw, leaving small kisses in his wake.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” Jimin snickered as he wiggled himself out of his embrace, guiding Yoongi toward the large porch, the railings covered with an overwhelming amount of colorful locks. “Jesus, there’s so much more than what I remembered. Where do you want to put it?” He held up the lock between the two.

Yoongi looked around them and pointed to a spot behind Jimin, “I want to put it over there so that it can rest on top of the other locks and everyone can see how much Yoongi and Jimin love each other.”

“Let’s do it!” Jimin chimed in, spinning around. He searched for a secure place on top of the pile of locks to attack theirs to. “How about here?” He pointed to a cluster of pink locks scribbled with messages at the very top.

“There is perfect,” Yoongi smiled.

Jimin attached the lock into place, pulling the small metallic key and tugging on it to make sure it was secure.

Yoongi snaked his hand into Jimin’s and rested his head on the other’s shoulder, “Now our love is eternal. Amazing how that happened so quickly.”

Jimin held up the key inches away from his face. “We still have to toss it in the box, and then it’s to infinity and beyond from there.”

“Then let’s toss her in and make it official.”

Jimin approached the small box perched on a wooden post in the corner. He slipped the key into the slot, hearing it clank against the pile of god knows how many other keys. He said a little prayer in his mind, a habit after having visited many temples with his family growing up. “It’s done!”

“Jimin, I do believe we are married now. I don’t make the rules, I just follow them,” Yoongi smirked, pulling the younger boy into his side.

“Lucky for you, I’m a rule follower too.”

“Suck it, Korea!” Yoongi yelled, flipping off the skyline in the distance.

Jimin cackled and ran up to the railing, screaming into the city, disrupting the small crowd around them. “Korea can suck it!”

The two received weird looks from the people around them, but they either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Yoongi laughed along with Jimin, and the two of them began their decent back down the hill holding hands the whole way down.

“The walk down was nowhere near as bad,” Jimin exclaimed as they arrived to the bus station, waiting with a few other people. “Let’s come back when the flowers start blooming! It’s supposed to be gorgeous here.” He grinned and realized how much time had passed. Jimin pulled out his phone and checked the time. “It’s almost time for the concert! Let’s start heading to the venue, the hotel can wait until tonight.” He winked.

Yoongi chuckled, “We’ll probably be sweaty from the concert anyway. Oh, did you grab the picnic dinner from Jin? I can’t remember.”

“Yes! Namjoon packed it in my duffle along with the video games.”

“Good! Show should be done by 9. That buffet should hold us over until then. After we eat, we can dance around under the stars, because it’s just what I know you’re waiting for.”

“I mean, I didn’t eat 5 plates of food for nothing.” Jimin shrugged and followed with a smile. “Dancing under the stars,” He sighed, leaning against Yoongi’s shoulder. “How romantic is that ? God we’re so gay. I love it.”

“You know earlier how you asked me why the others said I was so cold hearted? I’m only a hopeless romantic when I’m with you, Jimin.” Yoongi chuckled, grabbing Jimin’s hand and walking into the bus as it pulled up and opened its doors. “No one else on Earth could convince me to dance under the stars after picnicking.”

“I feel like the luckiest person ever then.” Jimin seated himself comfortably next to Yoongi on the bus as the doors shut and went on with it’s route. “Is it greedy of me to say I like being the only one to see this side of you?”

“Nah. It’s not selfish if we both feel the same way,” Yoongi winked.

“Okay, good.” Jimin leaned himself closely against Yoongi, combing his fingers through his hair. “Because you’re my Yoongi and mine only.” He whispered.

“Oh, possessive are we? Another one of those kinks I’m finding you have a lot of?” Yoongi quirked an eyebrow at the younger boy.

Jimin replied with a smirk. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet.”

“Well I potentially have the rest of my life to figure it all out, right?” Yoongi whispered.

JImin nodded at Yoongi. “Of course. I would hope so.”

Yoongi smiled and kissed the top of Jimin’s head. “Technically eternity.”

“We may as well be the ones that get married in America instead.” Jimin laughed. “I don’t think spending an eternity with you would be so bad.”

Yoongi’s smile grew wider, and he pulled Jimin tight against himself, “Good. Because I think you’re kind of stuck with me.”

“You won’t be hearing any complaints from me, we made it through two months so far, haven’t we? Jesus,” He laughed to himself. “After talking about an eternity, two months seems like nothing.”

“What’s the saying? Time flies when you’re having fun? I definitely have fun when I’m with you.”

Jimin’s eyes formed into crescents. “I mean,” He flipped his hair dramatically. “People always said I was a fun person to hang out with.”

“Almost as fun as Hobi,” Yoongi smirked.

“You know what, you’re absolutely right. I can never outrank that man. He never fails to steal the show at every party we’ve gone to.”

“Him drunk is the party.”

Jimin snickered at his comment. “I’ve never heard a more accurate statement.”

Yoongi laughed along with Jimin, and the two kept their happy conversation going until they reached their stop. The two got out of the bus, thanking the driver (bc they ain’t a bunch of assholes) and made their way back to their room.

When they entered their rooms, Jimin bolted into the living room, jumping onto the couch. “Hyung! Let’s play mario kart!” He pulled out the console from his duffle bag with a competitive grin. “Winner gets a free dinner?”

Yoongi snorted, “How about, the winner is on top tonight.” He winked at Jimin as he grabbed the controllers and helped him bring the video games over to the TV.

Jimin hooked up the Nintendo® Wii™ to the TV and realized Namjoon left a CD in it. Pushing the eject button, it popped out and Jimin read the title, sputtering at the name. “Hyung,” He waved the CD titled ‘Cumalot’ toward him. “I think Namjoon left us a present.”

“What in the everloving fuck is this?” Yoongi asked, taking the CD from Jimin.

“Well, now we know a member of our family enjoys porn. I appreciate the gesture, but I think we’ll do just fine without it.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows.

Yoongi laughed, “You’re right. We don’t need porn to help us get off. All I need to hear is you moan as I bite your lip and lick up your neck.”

Jimin swallowed, staring at Yoongi as he felt the heat creep up his cheeks, but within a second, the expression changed to a smirk as he inserted the game into the Wii™. “Don’t think you can use that as a distraction to win the game, Min Yoongi.” Mario Kart™ flashed onto the screen and Jimin hopped onto the couch, making himself comfortable. “Nothing can distract me from kicking your ass.”

“Oh, someone’s eager,” Yoongi chuckled. He sat himself down next to Jimin, and grabbed a pro controller and connected it to his wiimote. He looked over at Jimin, who was sat with his wiimote stuck inside the wheel add-on. He was sitting on his knees, excitedly bouncing up and down as the menu loaded up. “You look like such a child right now, baby,” Yoongi smiled. “You’re cute when you’re excited.”

“I get excited knowing I’m going to beat you, hyung.” Jimin bit his lip as he selected the Koopa Cape track and picked out the vehicle for his character, Toad. When the screen began the countdown, he hunched over with the wheel in his hand, ready to play.

“Baby, if you wanted to beat me, you wouldn’t have chosen Toad as your main driver,” Yoongi laughed, his Waluigi zooming past Jimin as the screen flashed “GO.”

“Wait...wait!” Jimin sputtered, shifting his wheel side by side to dodge through the other karts to catch up with Yoongi, but he was too fast. “Wait...you didn’t tell me you were good at this game. Hyung!” He whined, trying to launch items toward Yoongi’s car. “Just wait until I get a blue shell of death.” He murmured under his breath.

Yoongi laughed, “I’ll be too far ahead for it to make a difference.” Yoongi finished his first lap in first place, smiling as he saw the gap between him and Jimin in second place. “Also I was an unloved child with only one friend, you really think I didn’t master every video game I owned?”

“No, no no no!” Jimin tilted to the side, aggressively turning the wheel, finally finishing his first lap. “Sauron will remain victorious!” He collected a red shell and aimed it at Yoongi but it only hit the kart next to him. A string of curses left his lips as he scooted himself closer toward the TV, in full focus mode.

“Sauron needs to get comfy with the fact he’s gonna bottom again tonight,” Yoongi laughed.

Jimin pouted, refusing to reply to Yoongi as he finished his second lap, zooming past the other karts. His eyes squinted, watching his kart in the map catching up to Yoongi’s. Slowly, but surely. Halfway through their final lap, Jimin’s nose was practically inches away from the screen, shouting at his kart to go faster. When he glanced at Yoongi’s half of the screen, he watched his cart fly through the finish line at first place. Jimin let out a whine, falling onto the ground “No! Best out of three? I demand a character switch!”

Yoongi laughed, ruffling Jimin’s hair, “Alright, baby. That’s fine with me.”

“Yes!” Jimin jumped back up, changing the screen back to the character selection and picked Koopa.

“Ah, getting smart with your character choice, eh? Still no match for me and my Waluigi,” Yoongi said with a smug grin on his face.

“Koopa may be small, but he’s powerful.” Jimin glared at Yoongi before whipping his head back to the screen, in full focus mode again. “I only picked Toad to go easy on you.”

“Oh did you now? Alright, no mercy. I’m going back and picking the 150cc, and we are racing to the death.”

“It’s on, Min Yoongi, it’s fucking on.” Jimin scowled.

“You said best two out of three, but we’ll only need one more race to determine the winner,” Yoongi smirked.

“Shush hyung, I don’t need to hear this cockiness right now.” Jimin started the game and waited for the countdown, revving up his engine right before it started. When it said ‘GO’, the two of them zoomed off, racing side by side on the track.

“Oh, so he can race! I thought you were just messing around when you said you could beat me,” Yoongi jeered.

Jimin muttered an ‘I told you so’ under his breath as he tilted the steering wheel, trying to break through one of the item boxes, collecting a red shell. With Yoongi just ahead of him, he aimed it at his cart and watched it get hit, cackling loudly.

“You bastard,” Yoongi whispered.

“That’s what boyfriends are for!” Jimin beamed, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“I thought you loved me,” Yoongi pouted and leaned all his weight onto Jimin’s shoulder.

“I do, this is just my way of showing it.” They finished their first lap, Jimin shouting in victory as he placed in first and cackled at Yoongi. “Watch me kick your ass this time around.”

“Oh, sounds kinky.”

“Hyung!” Jimin screeched.

Yoongi just laughed and took a shortcut path to weasel his way in front of Jimin and back into first place.

“You...you-” Jimin stuttered, giving Yoongi a quick glance. “You cheated!”

“It’s called using my resources, and the game provides this shorter track for anyone to use.”

Jimin pouted and furrowed his eyebrows, spinning his wheel back and forth aggressively during the sharper turns. He glanced at Yoongi mischievously and pushed him with his arm, trying to throw him off.

“Fuck off, Jiminnie!” Yoongi laughed, still maintaining his spot on the race track. “That’s cheating.”

“I never said I played Mario Kart fairly.” Jimin stated, sitting himself in front of Yoongi to block his view.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, licking up the side of Jimin’s neck as he blocked his view.

“Yah!” Jimin cringed, sliding himself away from Yoongi. “You brat! That’s not funny!” He shrieked as they finished their second lap, desperately trying to catch up to Yoongi.

“Oh babe, I’m sorry. I just thought since you seemed to enjoy it every other time I licked you, it might encourage you this time around.”

Jimin shot a glare at Yoongi, laughing sarcastically. “Not this time, Min Yoongi.” They were on their third lap now, Jimin shrieking loudly during every sharp turn, throwing his body to the side he turned the wheel. “No, no, nonononono” He muttered under his breath.

Yoongi pulled his item trigger to use his star power as they came up close to the finish line, gaining a speed boost and a “FUCK!” from Jimin. Yoongi just laughed as he crossed the finish line only seconds before Jimin.

“Damn!” Jimin tossed his wheel onto the couch, his arms flailing in the air. “I was this close, this close!”

“You know, since I’m the best boyfriend ever and you were that close to beating the Great Min Yoongi at Mario Kart™, I’ll let you top tonight anyways,” Yoongi grinned, pulled Jimin into his arms.

Jimin stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that out of guilt?”

Yoongi’s smile softened, “I’m sure. Plus, I fucked you last night. I wouldn’t have made you bottom again anyways.”

“Aw, Min Yoongi.” Jimin smiled. “You really are the best boyfriend after all.” He left a kiss on his cheek. “But I’m still salty you beat me, twice.��

“I’m just that good, baby,” Yoongi grinned, leaning back with his hands hooked behind his head.

“I’ll never admit that.” Jimin laughed, ruffling Yoongi’s hair. “You say what you want to think, but there’s a million more games out there I can clearly beat you in.”

“Okay, well we can certainly test that out. Every night before bed, we are now going to battle each other in different video games.”

“You know what, I’m up for that challenge. If we run out of games to play, we’ll just team up against Namjoon and Jin.”

“God yes. That sounds fantastic,” Yoongi grinned. Yoongi glances at his watch and let out an “oof,” as he read the time. “Alright, baby, it’s time to go! We’re gonna miss our bus if we wait any longer.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Jimin shouted gleefully, jumping up from his ground and grabbed Yoongi’s hand, helping him up as well. He grabbed the key and bolted out of the room with Yoongi, skipping down the hall, humming a song to himself. “I’m so excited, I haven’t been to a concert before! I’ve always been a classical show kind of guy.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat, baby. Fall Out Boy and Steve Aoki are gonna play for us.”

“I love Steve Aoki!” Jimin clapped his hands together, hopping into the elevator once the door finally opened, pushing the button to the lobby. “Oh my god, I’m going to see him live. Min Yoongi I’m going to see one of my idols live!” He exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

Yoongi gave Jimin one of his gummy smiles, “Baby, I’m excited for you!”

“I’m excited for us! This concert is going to be so much fun.” The elevator doors opened again when they reached the lobby, exiting the hotel toward the bus stop. They only waited a few minutes until it arrived and entered the vehicle, taking the seats in the back. He nuzzled himself up against Yoongi, a smile grew across his lips, thinking about the concert and their little picnic afterwards. He was so ridiculously happy today, there was absolutely nothing that could kill off his joy.

Yoongi kissed the top of Jimin’s head as the younger nuzzled up against him. The two stayed seated in a comfortable silence the whole ride over to the arena. Jimin dozed off for about 40 minutes, but Yoongi thought he was too beautiful to disturb and let him rest against his shoulder. When the bus finally arrived, he nudged his Sleeping Beauty, and the two made their way through bag check and into the arena. They followed their tickets to their seats, and Yoongi’s eyes widened in awe at how close Jimin got them. “Yah, these are really good seats.”

Jimin shrugged innocently. “I just got lucky, I guess.” He pulled out his phone, taking pictures of the arena in awe. “This place is huge, hyung. Look how many people there are! Just imagine, one day you could be up there with the songs you compose.” Jimin exclaimed, pointing toward the stage.

Yoongi snorted, “I can’t even imagine that.”

“Are you doubting yourself? You’re a lot more talented than you think! Ask any of our friends, they’ll agree with me!”

Yoongi shrugged, “I’m mediocre at best.”

Lightly punching his shoulder, Jimin let out a whine. “You’re great, hyung!” The lights dimmed as the crowd screamed, Jimin jumped out of his spot excitedly, joining the rest of the audience. “Hyung, hyung it’s starting!”

Steve Aoki came out onto the stage then and began his first song. Yoongi looked over at Jimin and saw his face light up. A smile broke out across Yoongi’s face as he took in the sight. He leaned over to talk in Jimin’s ear, “Yah, you excited? I can’t tell!”

“This is the worst concert ever!” He shouted back with the biggest smile spread across his lips. “I’m such an idiot for thinking I would actually have fun!”

Yoongi playfully shoved him, and put his attention back on the stage… kinda. He mostly remained focused on Jimin throughout Steve Aoki’s set. Every time Jimin smiled or danced along, Yoongi felt a flutter in his chest, and a smile crept up onto his face. How this boy came to be his life in such a short amount of time, he’ll never know, but he’ll thank every god there is for letting it be so.

When Steve’s set came to an end, Jimin panted, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “That was fucking amazing!” He hollered, leaping beside Yoongi. “Did you see how close he was? He saw me, I’m sure he did!” The excitement rushed through his veins, impatiently waiting for the next show to start.

Yoongi laughed, “I’m sure he did, baby.”

“I understand why you like concerts now, hyung. There’s so much energy here, and I can dance as much as I want!” Jimin sighed, taking in the arena around them. “If that was only the beginning, I can't even imagine how much better it’s going to get.”

“I’ve heard Fall Out Boy puts on a good show, so we have a good time ahead of us!” Yoongi grinned.

“What should we do until then? We got quite some time, don’t we?”

Yoongi shrugged, “We can go look at the merch booth?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Do you think they have Steve Aoki merch? Let’s go, let’s go!” He grabbed Yoongi’s hand, leaving their seats toward the merch booth. “I’m telling you, I’d drop so much money for an Aoki shirt.”

“You’re not buying yourself a damn thing. I’m dropping so much money on Steve Aoki for you,” Yoongi scolded.

“Wait, what? Are you being serious hyung?” HIs eyes grew wide.

“Of course I am. You set up this amazing night, and I’m going to reward you for it in every way I can,” Yoongi smiled, kissing the back of Jimin’s hand in his own.

“Oh my god,” Jimin bounced happily on his feet, a smile forming. “You are literally the best boyfriend, ever!” They approached the merch booth as a gasp of joy left his lips, eyeballing all the merch hung across the booth. “There’s...there’s so many to choose from.”

“Get anything you want, baby boy,” Yoongi smiled, admiring the look of awe on Jimin’s face.

“Anything?” He gaped at the merch, pointing at a simple shirt with Steve Aoki scribbled across it. “What do you think of this shirt? And matching Fall Out Boy hats?”

“I love it,” Yoongi beamed.

Jimin asked for the two hats and shirt, holding them in his arms with a giant grin as Yoongi paid. He peeled one of the hats out of the plastic bag, putting it over his hair, fitting perfectly. As they left the booth, JImin took out Yoongi’s as well and set it on his head. “It’s a good look on you.” He beamed. “Thank you again, this is the best thing ever.” He unwrapped the shirt, looking at it with admiration. “I can’t wait to wear this!”

Yoongi laughed at Jimin’s excitement and adjusted the hat on his head, “I’m glad you’re happy, Jiminnie.” They stopped to grab a couple water bottles each, and walked back over to their seats with a good 20 minutes left until Fall Out Boy was supposed to even come out.

Jimin pulled out his phone, taking millions of selfies with them and their hats and filmed the arena around them, excitedly pointing at the stage saying Steve Aoki was just there. Once he was satisfied, Jimin sat back down in his seat, throwing an arm across Yoongi’s shoulders. “This is definitely going on my list of the top five best dates.”

Yoongi smiled and tilted his head towards Jimin, “Good. Me too.”

Jimin turned his head toward Yoongi, raising an eyebrow. “Best Fall Out Boy song?”

“I’m always a sucker for What a Catch, Donnie and Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy. But honestly, The Phoenix is my hoe jam. Take This To Your Grave is their best album, but Save Rock And Roll had a lot of bangers.”

“And Thnks fr the Mmrs! You can’t forget the iconic chimpanzees.” Jimin chimed in.

Yoongi chuckled, “Ah, yes. That one is good too.”

“It’s a classic, alongside Dance Dance!” Jimin sat up from his seat, performing the dokiest dance while singing out some lyrics.

“Oh my god, stop that. You’re such a dork.”

Jimin only raised his voice, singing louder and serenading his boyfriend in front of the crowd of people sitting around them. He heard a few chuckle and one person cheering loudly further up the row. “See, they like it!”

Yoongi laughed and pulled Jimin down into a headlock, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his hair, “Yah, cute Jimin is for me and me alone.”

“Aw, is someone jealous that I got a whole audience to fall for my charms?” Jimin fixed his hair, readjusting the cap.

“I’m not jealous. Min Yoongi is never jealous.”

“Mhmm.” Jimin hummed, pinching his cheek. “That’s not what your pouty face says, sugar lips.”

Yoongi huffed and folded his arms across his chest, “Whatever.”

“Ohh, sugar lips,” Jimin cooed, scooting closer. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

Yoongi stuck out his tongue at Jimin, not wanting to press further.

Jimin grinned, taking Yoongi’s hand in his. “Don’t worry, my cute side is reserved just for you only. In fact, I’ll exclusively give you my very own Fall Out Boy performance, no one else will ever see it.”

“This sounds like it could be kinky,” Yoongi pondered. “Will you be wearing clothing during this performance?”

“That’s up to you.” Jimin grinned, winking.

Yoongi shot Jimin a mischievous smile and wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Hmm, give me a lap dance to Dance, Dance. That would be sexy as fuck.”

Jimin let out a laugh, tilting his head back. “Whatever you like, sugar lips.”

Yoongi grinned, “Wow I’m so fucking whipped for you.”

“I know you are, but you know what?” Jimin glanced back and forth before leaning in closely, whispering. “I’m fucking whipped for you too.”

Yoongi turned his head to catch Jimin’s lips with his own, not caring that there were people all around them.

“You’re not so shy when it comes to public displays of affection, are you?” Jimin muttered against his lips, grinning.

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t really care. If that couple three rows ahead can be so into each other without fuss, then so can I.”

“Then let’s show this whole arena how disgustingly in love we are, I don’t care.” Jimin smiled, grabbing Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

Yoongi smiled into the kiss, reaching up to caress Jimin’s face. “I love you,” he mumbled against Jimin’s lips.

“I love you more, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose, “Nice try, Jiminnie, but I’m the hyung and I love you more.”

“Nooo, that can’t be.” Jimin pouted. “I’m the one that found you, I was one hundred percent whipped from the start.”

Yoongi shook his head, “I don’t care. I definitely love you more.”

Jimin slapped the brim of Yoongi’s cap down, falling onto his face. “Shush, you can’t out love me.”

“Just you wait, Park Jimin. I’ll show you.”

“And how exactly will you do that?”

Yoongi winked, “You’ll find out tonight, baby.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “This just gives me another thing to look forward to tonight.”

“We’re gonna be up all night, baby,” Yoongi smirked. “It’s a good thing checkout isn’t until 11.”

“Hmm,” Jimin gave him a smug grin. “You’re so full of surprises, sugar lips.”

As Yoongi leaned in for another kiss, the lights dimmed, and the audience erupted into cheers. The Phoenix started playing, and Yoongi broke away from Jimin. He perked up, nearly jumping out of his seat to cheer along with the rest of the audience.

“PUT ON YOUR WAR PAINT,” Patrick Stump sang. Yoongi grabbed onto Jimin’s shoulder with excitement. “PUT ON YOUR WAR PAINT.”

“You are a brick tied to me that’s dragging me down. Strike a match and I’ll burn you to the ground. We are the Jack-O-Lanterns in July, setting fire to the sky. Here, here comes this rising tide, so COME ON!” Yoongi sang along, a wide grin present on his face the whole time. As the chorus hit, he started jumping and dancing around with Jimin. It was the best feeling in the world, letting loose with Jimin to some good, live music.

Jimin was smiling, watching his boyfriend sing at the top of his lungs. Everyone around them were cheering so loudly, the beat of the music vibrated against his ears, they could practically burst. But Jimin didn’t notice, everything around him became a blur and all he could see was Yoongi jumping beside him, lost in the song. He felt so happy and content watching him in his element. He danced beside Yoongi, singing along loudly, and probably terribly with him.

Fall Out Boy played for what seemed like a fleeting moment, but it was really two hours. Yoongi lost himself in the music, having the time of his life. When the last song finished and the confetti was falling into the audience, Yoongi looked over at Jimin with the biggest grin on his face. Sweat was dripping down his neck, and he could tell that Jimin was hot and sweaty too. They both just smiled at each other, reveling in the time they had just spent together. Yoongi held out his hand and pulled Jimin towards the end of the aisle, trying to squeeze their way into the mass exodus.

Slowly, they mazed their way through the crowd of people leaving, still in a daze from the excitement earlier. When they finally reached the outside of the venue, Jimin breathed in the fresh air, the breeze cooling him off. “That was literally the best concert I’ve only ever gone to!” Jimin commented as they made their way to the bus stop, grinning to himself every now and again whenever he thought about the concert or seeing how happy Yoongi was.

The grin on Yoongi’s face never faltered as he walked, swinging his and Jimin’s hands between them. “That was really fun. I’m glad you took me to see Fall Out Boy.”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it!” Jimin replied, his chest fluttering whenever he glanced toward Yoongi, seeing his wide, gummy smile. He had never seen someone elated, it was only expression he wanted to see on Yoongi.

“I’m hungry and ready to sweep you off your feet, come on. Get on the bus, baby boy.”

Grinning, Jimin followed Yoongi onto the full bus, standing in the aisle and holding onto one of the handles.

Yoongi let Jimin hold them in place, as he wrapped his arm around his waist and held on tightly. “If you go down, we both do.”

“If I jump off a cliff, you would jump too?” Jimin asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You jump, I jump, right?” Yoongi quoted.

“Aw,” Jimin smiled, touched by his words. “You so loyal, hyung. Let’s just jump together from now on.”

Yoongi leaned his head onto Jimin’s shoulder, “You already know I’d do anything for you.”

“You should know that goes the same for you too, hyung.” Jimin ran his fingers through the hair peeking out at the back of Yoongi’s cap.

Yoongi closed his eyes and smiled as Jimin stroked the hair on the back of his neck, still coming off his post concert high.

The two stood quietly in the bus, eventually spotting empty seats to sit in halfway through their trip back to the hotel. When they arrived to the bus stop, the two got off the vehicle into the cool, night air. A shiver ran down Jimin’s spine, his sweat having gone cold. “Come on, let’s get changed and grab our food. I’m starving and we have the gayest picnic to attend to.”

Yoongi chuckled as Jimin pulled him up into the elevator, eagerly waiting the 30-odd floors it took to get to their room.

When the elevator reached their floor, Jimin skipped out, twirling his cap in the air, singing Dance Dance out loud as his voice echoed through the hallway.

Yoongi shushed his boyfriend, whispering that there were humans trying to sleep at this hour, and that he needed to be quiet in the hallway. Jimin just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend and continued skipping to their room, humming the song. “You’re a menace,” Yoongi mumbled as they walked into their room.

“Just for you, hyung!” Jimin shot gun fingers at him before rummaging through his duffle bag, pulling out a warmer set of clothes to change into.

Yoongi followed suit, discarding his tee and jacket for a maroon crewneck sweater with floral print on it.

Jimin slid into a cream colored sweater with a red stripe across the middle, GCDS written inside of it followed with dark washed jeans. He ruffled up his hair after it created a coconut shape from the hat and slipped the bag full of food over his shoulder, waiting until Yoongi was ready.

Once Yoongi was satisfied with his messy hair, he grabbed onto Jimin’s free hand and let the younger boy lead him out of the hotel room. “So, where exactly are we going?”

A soft smile grew across Jimin’s lips as they headed for the elevator. “Olympic park. It’s the best place for a picnic, but because it’s night time, it’ll be peaceful and quiet there. There’s the cutest little lake there surrounded by trees!”

Yoongi smiled, “Sounds perfect, Jiminnie!”

“And Jin made us so much delicious food, we’re going to eat so well tonight.” JImin nearly drooled at the thought, resisting the temptation to pull out one of the tupperwares and start shoving his face with food. They eventually exited the hotel, going back to the bus stop and getting on as soon as it arrived. After a while, with the occasional small chatter and bursts of laughter throughout the ride, the bus arrived to the stop near the park as Jimin hopped out beside Yoongi, stretching his arms out. “Ah, we’re finally here!” He murmured and led Yoongi onto a trail through the cluster of trees until they reached the small lake, the bright, full moon reflecting off the water. “It’s so beautiful out tonight!” Jimin gasped, running onto the grass to claim their picnic spot.

Yoongi chuckled, and followed behind at his same pace, letting Jimin start the setup as he neared. “Yeah, you are,” Yoongi winked.

Jimin paused his setup, nearly choking on his saliva. “That was the cheesiest response…” He mumbled, thankful that it was dark enough so Yoongi couldn’t see his flushed cheeks. He finished taking out the tupperware, peeling off all the lids. “Jin really went all out, he made so much more than I asked for...bless him. Best roommate ever.”

“Just wait till he and Namjoon start going at it on a day where you are tired to the bone and all you want is proper sleep,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Oh no,” Jimin whined, handing Yoongi his chopsticks. “We’ll just have to give them revenge on their exhausted days.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow, “Oh will we now?”

“What comes around, goes around.” Jimin grinned, picking up one of the tupperwares, tasting the homemade food Jin made. “This is delicious, try it!” He picked up one of the kimbap rolls, waving it toward Yoongi.

Yoongi leaned forward and grabbed the kimbap roll between his front teeth, taking a generous bite out of it. He chewed and smiled at Jimin, giving him a thumbs up.

Jimin stuffed his mouth with the food, being hit with the post-concert hunger. The silence was comforting between the two as they ate, exchanging smiles whenever their eyes met. The park around them was empty besides a person or two strolling along the trails. The air was filled with the faint chirping of crickets and the soft splashing of the water hitting the land.

Yoongi broke the silence first, asking Jimin how the night was going compared to how he thought it would go.

“Honestly,” Jimin spoke up. “This is been one of the best nights. The best weekend ever, actually.” He gazed at Yoongi as he ate, not realizing the smile that was stretched across his lips. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach whenever Jimin looked at him, feeling so unbelievably happy and ridiculously lucky to have this man in front of him.

“Good, because I feel the same way,” Yoongi grinned, shoving a bite of japchae into his mouth.

“I’m so glad,” Jimin chuckled, finishing one of the tupperwares of food and setting it onto his lap, staring at Yoongi again, unable to take his eyes off of him. “Min Yoongi?”

Yoongi set his food down and looked at Jimin, “Yeah, Jiminnie?”

“I love you.” He smiled. “I know I say it a lot, but I really, truly mean it Yoongi. I love you.”

Yoongi leaned over and kissed Jimin on the temple, “And I truly mean it when I say I love you, Jimin.”

“It’s only our two month anniversary, but why does it already feel like we’re celebrating five years?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Because we are a couple of romantic saps.”

“We’re so fucking gay, that’s what.”

Yoongi guffawed, falling onto his back in his fit of laughter. “We really are.”

Jimin laid himself over Yoongi’s chest. “In my opinion, out of all of our friends, we’re probably the most gay couple there.” He brushed a thumb across Yoongi’s cheek, grinning.

“I mean, have you seen Jin and Namjoon cuddling on the couch? They are as domestic and married as it gets.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, laughing at the thought. “You do have a point, they’re about as domestic as any other parent out there with 5 children to feed.”

“I don’t think we need to rank all of us. It’s just a given nowadays that gay people naturally find each other and become friends. We can all just be equally gay together.”

Jimin let out a happy sigh. “We need more people like you in the world, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi smiled, stroking Jimin’s hair. “Hey, I promised I’d dance with you under the stars. Pick a song, Jiminnie.”

“Under the Stars by John Legend.” Jimin giggled. “It’s fitting, no?”

Yoongi kissed the top of Jimin’s head, “Perfect.”

Jimin sat himself up, holding out a hand to help Yoongi up from the ground. “Let’s dance, hyung.”

Yoongi took Jimin’s hand and loaded up the music on his phone. As it began to play, he placed it on the ground and took Jimin’s other hand into his own, “Uh, I’ve never danced like this before. What do I do?”

Jimin let out a giggle. “Just follow my steps, it comes to you naturally.” Jimin took a step back as Yoongi took one forward, repeating with the other foot.

Yoongi dropped one of Jimin’s hands, and set it on the younger’s hip, “This is where I place my hands, right?”

“That’s right,” Jimin nodded, putting his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Just move slowly and don’t think too hard about it.”

And so Yoongi followed Jimin’s lead, picking up the steps quickly. They swayed back and forth for a moment, Yoongi completely serene as he held onto the younger man.

“You’re a natural!” Jimin exclaimed, letting go of Yoongi and extending the other arm to give him a short twirl before pulling him back in. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in real life, no. In my dreams, yeah. Always with you.”

“How can we be so sure that this isn’t a dream? It really feels like one.” Jimin smiled, gazing into his dark eyes he could have sworn held the entire universe.

“You can’t be. You just have to trust that you won’t wake up from this reality.”

“I never want to anyway, my reality seem far better than my dreams.”

“God, what cheesy drama are we acting in?” Yoongi laughed, leaning his face closer to Jimin’s.

“The kind that will capture everyone’s hearts and win a award in the most romantic and cheesiest.” He pressed his forehead against Yoongi’s, grinning.

Yoongi smiled, “Better than Goblin.”

“A million times better than Goblin.” Jimin stated and began humming to the song playing in the background, quietly singing along to the lyrics.

“You have the most beautiful voice, Jimin. Have I ever told you?” Yoongi swooned.

“It’s...it’s nothing.” Jimin stuttered, growing flustered at his compliment. “I mean, I like to sing but it’s nowhere near as good as the voices you hear out there.”

“Baby, I’m gonna write a song for you, and I want you to sing it, okay? Would you do that for me?” Yoongi asked with wide eyes.

“Me? Sing? I...are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Okay…” Jimin smiled shyly. “Okay, I’ll do it. Anything for you, honey.” They continued swaying gently, engrossed in their dance under the night sky of Seoul.

Yoongi smiled, resting his head on Jimin’s shoulder, “This night has been perfect.”

“I second this. This is the most peaceful I’ve felt in a long time.” They danced on until the music slowly faded to an end, finalizing their dance with another twirl, Jimin’s soft giggles interrupting the silence of the night. “Thank you for the dance, Yoongi.”

“It was entirely my pleasure, Jiminnie,” he smiled, letting go of Jimin’s waist and bringing his hand up to stroke Jimin’s hair.

Jimin tilted his head, leaning into his touch, his eyes never straying away from Yoongi’s. It felt like it was only the two of them in the entire world. Because of how calm and relaxed their past two days have been, Jimin’s mind had completely detached from the stress of reality. There was no one else besides Yoongi that could loosen him up this much, to realize that it was okay to disconnect himself from everything and enjoy the very moment between them.

Jimin realized at that moment that he was absolutely and completely smitten for this man. He could see his future so clearly with him and he could not wait for their lives to start as soon as this small trip was over. Just the thought of the littlest things like brushing their teeth together in the bathroom with matching toothbrushes or spending a Sunday folding their laundry together made him smile, excitement bubbling in his stomach.

“Jimin, let’s head back. It’s time to de-stress in that bathtub.”

“I’d love nothing more than that.” A soft smile grew across his lips as they went back to their picnic area, putting away the now empty tupperwares into Jimin’s duffle bag. He slipped it over his shoulder and they made their way back to the trail. Jimin followed behind, checking through his bag to make sure he had everything. When he found his small camera, he pulled it out and stopped in his tracks. “Yah, Min Yoongi!” Jimin shouted suddenly, causing Yoongi to jump around with a surprised expression. A bright flash lit up the area around them as a snort escaped from Jimin, a little card popping out of the camera. “Oh this is gonna turn out so good.” He cackled to himself, waving the card around in the air as if that would make it develop faster.

Yoongi stuck out his tongue at Jimin, “Did you get a good pic, baby?”

Jimin looked down at the picture, halfway through its development, nodding. “As usual, it’s so much easier capturing you like this than I expected.” He caught up beside Yoongi, holding the photo in his hand as if it was his prized possession. “Here’s picture number two for our wall.”

“Give me the camera, Jiminnie,” Yoongi requested, already reaching for it. “I need one of you now.”

“Mmm, no!” Jimin teased, waving his hands away from Yoongi, skipping backwards.

“Fine, I’ll just take pictures of you naked later tonight,” Yoongi teased.

“Kinky one, aren’t you?” Jimin pressed the shutter again, the blinding flash lighting up the space again. “You’re so photogenic, I just can’t help it.” He pulled out the developing card, adding it to his pile.

“Hmm, take one us kissing,” Yoongi said, pulling Jimin to his side.

Jimin tilted his head, pressing his lips against Yoongi’s as he held out the camera, the flash going off once more and the sound of another card popping out. He drew his arm back down and used the other one to pull Yoongi in, their kiss still lingering.

Yoongi didn’t mind the fact that Jimin kept kissing him. In fact, he just craved more of Jimin’s touch. He trailed kisses down Jimin’s jaw and stopped at the point where Jimin’s jaw met his ear. He took Jimin’s distracted moment to snatch the camera out of his hand and took a snapshot of a flustered Jimin.

“Hyung,” Jimin whined, pouting as he realized Yoongi’s ulterior motive, watching him take the developing card out. “That’s not fair, you can’t take advantage of me like that.” His cheeks flushed, crossing his arms.

“Hm, you can punish me later,” Yoongi winked.

Jimin’s eyebrows rose before a grin crept onto his lips. “Oh? If you say so.” He leaped onto Yoongi’s back, wrapping his arms gently around his neck and his legs around his waist. “Then hyung, carry me back, I’m tired. I need to save my energy for tonight.”

Yoongi grunted as Jimin jumped onto his back, but made sure to get a good hold on him. He walked them both to the bus, and sat Jimin down on the bench at the stop. “This was such a good night, Jiminnie.”

“I’m so glad.” He smiled. “I was trying so hard to out-do your last date with the sparklers at the Han River, but I’ll admit, it’s still my most favorite night. You should have seen your face when I finally called you hyung, I should have had the camera at the time.”

Yoongi snorted, “You have to understand, I wasn’t expecting that… like ever. You seemed so adamant to not call me hyung.”

“I was just waiting for the perfect time so I could get the exact reaction I got that night.” Jimin boasted. “At first I was too shy though, but you helped break those walls down. After that, I watched our friends make bets and waited. I gotta say, it was well worth it.”

“I’m glad you did,” Yoongi smiled.

The bus eventually arrived, Jimin hopping into the vehicle with Yoongi following behind. It was vacant, let alone the bus driver and Jimin skipped over to one of the seats, tugging Yoongi down beside him. He leaned against the window, stretching his legs across Yoongi’s lap. “You make a comfortable leg rest, thank you.” Jimin giggled as the bus went along its route.

“I’m here for you, baby boy. Whatever you need, I can provide,” he chuckled and rested his right hand on Jimin’s thigh.

“Ah, always there for me in dire times like now.” He giggled, his eyes forming into crescents. The bus was quiet and peaceful with a light melody playing softly in the background. “Min Yoongi, I don’t really think I’ve ever asked, but what’s your dream? Like after we finish college, what do you want to do?”

“I uh, actually wanna write and produce music,” Yoongi smiled.

“I think that’s amazing, are you looking into any music companies yet?”

“Nah. I just kinda post things on Soundcloud.”

“Ohh,” Jimin grinned. “I’ll post your soundcloud across all my social medias and promote you like the number one fan I am! Gotta represent my man, you know?”

Yoongi chuckled, “Good. I love you, Jimin. I hope you know that.”

“I too, love you, but you probably already knew that.” The bus made several stops in their route before reaching their destination. Jimin lifted his feet off of Yoongi’s lap and followed him out of the bus, thanking the driver before entering the warm hotel, the lobby now empty. They approached the elevator, waiting for the metallic door to open. Jimin stood closely beside Yoongi, his arm slung around his waist.

“I still love hearing you say it, though,” Yoongi smiled, kissing the top of Jimin’s head.

They entered the elevator, Jimin pressing the button of their floor before leaning in. “Well, I love you, Min Yoongi.” He whispered in his ear before leaving light kisses along his jawline.

“You really know how to seduce a man,” Yoongi smiled, eyes rolling shut in bliss as Jimin continued to kiss him.

“You’re an easy one to please.” Jimin grinned, stopping as the elevator doors open, leading Yoongi into the hallway toward their room. He pulled out the card key, unlocking the door and tossed the duffle bag aside in the the living room, bolting straight to the bathroom. “Bath time, bath time, bath time!” He shouted with a childish tone.

Yoongi chuckled and followed behind Jimin, slowly stripping off his suspenders and shoes as the door latched behind him.

Jimin peeled off his shirt, tossing it across the room, landing directly on Yoongi’s head and let out bursts of giggles. “That was purely accidental, I promise!”

Yoongi huffed and pulled Jimin’s shirt off his face. “Oh don’t think you’re gonna get away with that one,” he threatened, pulling off his own shirt and unbuttoning his pants.

Jimin stuck out his tongue, starting up the bath as it filled up, pouring some soap to create a thick layer of bubbles, the room lingering with the sweet scent of vanilla. He finished peeling off the rest of his layers, tossing them in a pile alongside Yoongi’s and stepped into the tub once it was filled, sighing at the warmth. He lifted up his arm covered in bubbles, gesturing Yoongi to join.

Yoongi smiled and stepped into the tub, situating himself between Jimin’s legs and leaning back against his chest. He sighed with contentment as his muscles relaxed in the hot water and turned his head to kiss Jimin’s cheek. “This is so perfect.”

“Not nearly as perfect as you though, hyung.” Jimin squeezed some shampoo onto Yoongi’s hair, massaging his fingers into his scalp, using a stress-relieving technique he once learned from Taehyung during the stressful nights before a big show. “Does this feel alright, honey?”

“It feels so good, Jimin. I now know why dogs like being scratched on the head.”

A snort escaped from Jimin as he ran his thumbs along the nape of his neck, pressing gently into some of the pressure points. “Let me know whenever you’re stressed out, I can provide with cheap head massages.”

“Cheap as in free for the man who stole your heart?” Yoongi inquired.

“Plus tax.”

Yoongi pouted, “The tax better be a kiss or something.”

“Hmm, I think I can take that into consideration. But one needs to make some money, you know.” Jimin shrugged innocently, shaping Yoongi’s silvery hair into little spikes across his head.

“Just add it all to my Jimin loan and I’ll pay it all off one day by buying us a home of our own,” Yoongi winked.

“It’s a deal!” Jimin beamed, piling bubbles onto Yoongi’s head. “We’ll have such a big and expensive place with all that loan money.”

Yoongi laughed, “Whatever you want, Jimin. Once I become a hot-shot producer I’ll buy you the biggest and best house ever.”

“I’ll support you every step of the way until you become one. You can do anything, Min Yoongi.” Jimin stated, washing the suds out of Yoongi’s hair. “Really, anyone who says otherwise is lying.”

Yoongi smiled, “Thank you, Jimin. I really appreciate you. Tell me, how can I appreciate you tenfold and help you with your dreams?”

“Just keep doing what you love and produce music for me to dance to, that is, if you like to. I love dancing to your music.”

Yoongi shifted so he could look at Jimin, “Of course, baby. Also, I know I said you could top tonight, but I’m so tired right now. Is it okay if we just relax and then go to bed? We can do whatever you want tomorrow in our bed.”

“Of course honey, we did a lot today and before you know it, will be back in school stressing over our assignments. Get as much rest as you can.

“Mmmh,” Yoongi hummed in agreement. “You know you’ll never be able to get me out of bed with you in the mornings. I’ll just hold tightly onto you and snuggle us deep into the blankets.”

“Now it’s just going to be harder for me get out of bed, sugar lips.” Jimin grinned.

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mini-min-yoongi · 6 years

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October AO3 Yoonmin readings:

1) Just like a tattoo (i’ll always have you)

Yoongi eyes him curiously, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jimin’s movements. “First time?”

“Y-yes, I’m a virgin!” Jimin squeaks out, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, embarrassed at his own words.

Some sexual innuendos, Yoongi covered in tattoos and a very shy Jimin. Perfect combination.

2) Kickstart Series (Gang AU) (*)

This entire series is a masterpiece, I loved the story and all the characters. I recommend reading every single one even if Yoonmin is not the main focus in some of them.

2.1. Experto Crede (*)

“I-I don’t understand…” Jimin said, eyes watering as he focused on Yoongi. “I thought…you were going to kill me…in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well so did I,” Yoongi said wryly, and Jimin flinched, trying to make himself impossibly smaller.

AKA It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Min Yoongi in possession of a heart will be in want of sleep.

I’m not lying when I say that i REALLY liked this one. If I’m not mistaken, this was my first time reading a gang yoonmin au and it was awesome. Dark and protective Yoongi taking care of a scarred Jimin. Keep in mind that this story deals with abuse and torture so please don’t read it unless you are comfortable with those themes. The only “bad” thing about this fic is that it’s only three chapters long (I needed more when I finished it SO BAD). Luckily, the author did a sequel which is the next one ->

2.2. Attero (*)

“Beautiful,” the man repeated under his breath, and Jimin felt a cold shiver travel from the bottom of his back to the nape of his neck. The way he said it wasn’t a compliment, or an observation, it was…it was like something Dongwon would have said, smiling as he held Jimin’s head underwater or ripped out chunks of his hair. It touched something that Jimin thought he’d buried a long time ago.

“H-have a n-nice day,” Jimin said softly, curling his fingers into his uniform apron. Sometimes it was best to pretend.

“Get lost,” Jungkook jerked his chin towards the door. “And don’t come back!” he called after the man, who glanced over his shoulder one last time before leaving the café.

*Follows Experto Crede

I loved seeing Jungkook and his foul mouth working as a barista and trying to protect Jimin with all his might. Also, Yoongi trying to be extremely careful with Jimin, worried about having scared him or disappointing him because of his actions. In general, Yoongi being so soft towards Jimin and wanting to protect him is such a contrast to his profession as a hitman (I MEAN HE CALLS HIM JIMINNIE). It’s a great sequel to Experto Crede and it shows us more of what Jimin had to go through during all those years so please be careful because it contains descriptions of torture and it can be triggering for some people.

2.3. Solus (Jungkook centric) (*)

“Yoongi changed you,” Jin said softly. “But Jimin is changing Yoongi.”

Jungkook frowned, teeth grinding together. “But…but I…” he said, looking at Jin hopelessly. “I don’t want him to change…”

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

MY BABY JUNGKOOKIE. I didn’t know I needed this but I really did. I appreciate so much this one because I came to understand better Jungkook’s actions in the first part. He really went through a lot and he just wants to be cherished and loved by the people who helped him and who he also loves. Also, I loved seeing Yoongi’s change in behaviour when he’s with Jimin through the eyes of another person. But the most important thing is how Yoongi cares so much about Jungkook but he’s not able to show him because he feels guilty. The hug broke my heart.

2.4. Cor Aut Mors (Namjoon & Seokjin)

The day Kim Namjoon said no to Kim Seokjin would be the day the earth stopped turning on its axis.

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

2.5. Caritas (Hoseok & Taehyung)

“Hoseok,” the boy answered distractedly, looking around the small space, the single bed. “Tae’s room? Are you Tae?”

“Mostly,” Tae shrugged. “Except when they give me medicine, and then I feel much less like him than I’m supposed to.”

“I feel that,” the boy nodded, reaching his arms over his head to stretch, a few joints popping along the way. “Remind me to never try and kill myself again,” he muttered. “One stupid time and they stick you in an asylum for half a year. But hell, I guess it worked. I don’t wanna’ die anymore, I wanna’ kill my family for sticking me in here.”

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

3) Give me a sign

Yoongi thinks the universe is a dick for a lot of reasons. Reason #1: It gave a deaf person a soul-mark that revolves around speech. Reason #2: Once he decided to hate his soulmate no matter what they were like, the universe gave him a really attractive soulmate. Reason #3: Said soulmate is overly kind, no matter how much of a dick Yoongi is. Reason #4: Yoongi is definitely fucked.

Soulmates au, deaf and stubborn Yoongi and some bullying. It was a good read.

4) Burn It Up (contains smut) (*)

“Hey,” Yoongi says. “It’s okay, what’s up?”

“I — ” Jimin stutters. “They — I dunno, hyung, I don’t — I think they might have fucked up my dosage or — I don’t — ” His voice cracks and he swallows, a little involuntary noise spilling out of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in realization, something cold and numb slithering around his heart and squeezing so tight he feels like he’s suffocating.

“I think I’m in — ”

Alpha Yoongi and omega Jimin. They are both in BTS. I liked it a lot because the author mixed smut with angst and Yoongi tells us about his past and I really liked reading about his inner turmoil.

5) Where the heart is (contains smut) (*)

She hadn’t been ready to be a mother and Yoongi hadn’t been ready to be a father, but where she had turned tail and run, Yoongi had vowed never to do the same.

Single parent yoongi and babysitter jimin. I’ve been wanting to read this for a very long time and it didn’t disappoint. This story was extremely cute and the smut was GREAT even though what i enjoyed the most was reading about their struggles before they could have sex (living with a little kid is not the ideal scenario for sexy time) and the epilogue

6) Sweeter than sweet (contains smut) (*)

Cupcake shop owner park jimin always worries & waits for his husband, special agent, min yoongi to come back home but one night he doesn’t.

I knew I was going love this the moment I saw the description. I really like seeing bangtan in the role of secret agents and gang aus and if you add a baker Jimin the combination can only be as sweet as this one.

7) Crybaby (work in progress) (*)

Min Yoongi and Park Jimin navigate the troubles of childhood, adolescence and young adulthood together; and all of the ups, downs and trauma that life brings.

“What’s the Park clan’s number one motto huh, Yoongi?”

“…Love yourself.”

GO READ THIS ONE RIGHT NOW. In this story, kid Yoongi has selective mutism and suffers from anxiety. I want to protect little Yoongi with all I have. It’s a work in progress but it’s going to depict Yoongi and Jimin’s lives as they grow up. I don’t like reading stories that are not complete but i’ve been wanting to read it since august and i finally gave in. It’s so well-written, I love Yoongi, Jimin and Jimin’s parents. I just loved all of it and I find Yoongi’s condition so heartbreaking and interesting and in a way relatable. I’ve been dealing with social anxiety for a very long time and even though it has never been to such an extent it still hits close to home and my heart breaks for little yoongs. Can’t wait to see how this story develops, (Seriously, I’m so obsessed with this story that I even made a moodboard because I’ve got no chill).

8) Bullet Boy (work in progress) (*)

If you want to make it big, you’ve got to start off small. This is something that Jimin acknowledges, for he just carries on singing features for underground rappers in the hopes of breaking into the mainstream scene even when the lyrics mean nothing to him.

If you want to make it in the scene, you’ve got to fake it in the scene. This is something that Yoongi understands intimately. But he’s never been one to be a poser, and there’s only far stuntin’ can get you before you burn out like the end of a cigarette.

Yoongi finally wants to move on from his bad past and take the gamble so that he can drop his first mixtape as ‘D-boy’, and he can’t think of anyone more perfect to feature on it than rising talent: Park Jimin.

Jimin really wants to break free from nights spent singing at hip hop clubs for a pittance and finally have his name on an official track in the music charts, but he’s going to need some help navigating the brutal world of music contracts and the paparazzi; and being involved in a scandal the likes of which the industry has never seen before.

GO READ THIS ONE RIGHT NOW TOO. This is another story I didn’t want to start until it was finished but OH WELL. It’s so good, like so freaking good. Her characters are all complex and I love it when fics deal with serious issues such as homophobia. This story is also set in South Korea and the author is working hard to get all the details right and I find that so commendable because it’s not easy at all. I really like how Yoongi ad Jimin kinda fall into the relationship slowly and naturally. I know there’s going to be so much more angst as the story progresses and it’s going to break my heart but the author said that it’ll have a happy ending so I’d recommend everyone to give it a try. It’s seriously good.

9) Pretty Little Baby Boy (contains smut) (*)

Jimin glanced through the open gap in the bag to see starched white cotton and a flash of bright red tartan, and that was when he realised what he was looking at.

Yoongi had brought a schoolgirl uniform to the love motel with him, which he was quite clearly going to wear just for him.

I read it this summer but I totally forgot about it because I didn’t write it down so that’s why I’m including it now (also i just reread it because it’s so good so here you go). Soft smut is always a blessing. Yoongi and Jimin explore crossdressing in this fic and you can find insecure Yoongi and reassuring boyfriend Jimin who is eager to see this side of his lover. Everything about this was so freaking cute. ALSO, Jimin taking pictures of Yoongi crossdressing was SO GOOD.

Special mention of the month:

~Creating a Home Series by (*)

Namjoon/Seokjin + the rest of BTS as their foster/adopted kids

(She’s got a Tumblr account @thecheekybrunette so give her lots of love for such an amazing story) (Thank you so much for making me feel so many things and giving me five kids that I’ve come to love as if they were my own)

1.1. Welcome Home (*)

Seokjin is used to getting calls from social workers at all hours of the day, but never this late at night.

(In which Hoseok loses a mom and gains two dads and four brothers.)

This has to be my favourite namjin story I’ve read until now. I loved their characters and how they are not only a great couple but also the best team. They both care so much for each other and their children. All the children in this story have a special place in my heart: shy Hoseok, anxious Yoongi, loving but sometimes not gentle Jimin, epileptic and dramatic Taehyung and the cutest baby ever (I want to hug him and pinch his cheeks in every scene) Jungkook. This fic shows the hardships of taking care of children that aren’t yours and have many problems but also how that makes you love, care and worry about them even more. I loved this one too much.

1.2. Big Kids, Young Adults (work in progress)

“Jungkook had been so sweet growing up. He had the cutest little bunny smile, and he used to like snuggling something as he walked around, like his Elmo plushie or his teddy bear. He had been so cute.

And now he was so grumpy.”

(In which Jungkook forgets his place at home, and the rest of his family does their best to support him and each other.)

Sequel to Welcome Home. The kids have grown up and are teenagers now. It depicts the struggles that normal teenagers go through, but they have extra luggage that they are carrying from their childhood traumas and illnesses. I love how much Namjoon and Seokjin try to communicate with them and try their hardest with all of them even when sometimes they make mistakes. They are such loving parents and my heart broke so many times when reading especially with Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook. A scene that I won’t forget is when Jungkook lashes out at Seokjin in the car on their way to the psychologist, I seriously teared up because it was too real. Can’t wait to read the following chapters.

1.3. I Have You

There wasn’t an untouched piece of skin left on Jimin that Jin could see. There was blood matted in his hair and bruises webbing across his face. Maybe he was better off under his clothes, but something about Jimin’s bitten hands told him otherwise. His chest constricted.

“Up,” Jimin repeated, his soft forehead wrinkling in confusion.

Seokjin shook himself out of it. “Yeah, honey, come here,” he said, his throat closing up. The words were barely a squeak.

Jimin’s first night at Seokjin and Namjoon’s house.

1.4. Something to Do and Someone to Love

“Watching Seokjin take such good care of their son always made Namjoon feel like the luckiest man alive. He had such great kids and such a great husband.

One thing was for certain: Seokjin had made him promise to not let the kids spend more than ten dollars each on him, but he deserved way more than that. Namjoon was going to have to raise the budget just a little bit.”

In which, Seokjin wants his kids to have a perfect Christmas, Namjoon wants Seokjin to have a perfect Christmas, and this one is more about the dads.

The family celebrating Christmas. For some of them it’s their first Christmas and it’s the sweetest. Jungkookie in this one made me want to hug him so much, my heart melted.

1.5. Puffy Eyes and a Pink Nose

Seokjin came into the living room, wrapping his robe a little tighter against his body. “Look who’s asleep,” Seokjin said. His voice was soft in the wee hours of the morning.

“And look who’s not,” Namjoon replied as Seokjin joined him on the couch, curling into his side. “Why don’t you go back to bed, babe?”

“Nah. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun.“

(In which Jungkook wreaks havoc during his first few days at Seokjin and Namjoon’s house, but it’s not his fault at all.)

Jungkook suffering from Neonatal Abstinence Syndrom and Seokjin and Namjoon doing their best even when it is too much to handle, especially when they have to watch their baby suffering and being unable to do something about it.

1.6. Lucky to Have Someone Like You

“Hey,” Namjoon said, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s cheek. His nose flattened against Taehyung’s temple. “No crying. You’re okay. We’re going to eat dinner.”

(In which Seokjin, Jimin, and Namjoon all take care of Taehyung post-seizure.)

I have developed such an attachment to epileptic!Taehyung you don’t even understand.

1.7. Sunscreen and Sunshine

“Splish splash,” Jungkook said, smushed up against the edge of his playpen. Seokjin detangled himself from Jimin and Taehyung and freed Jungkook from the fence encircling him. The sand engulfed his tiny feet when Seokjin put him down.

“Do you wanna come walking with us, Jungkookie?” Seokjin asked.

“Splish splash with Chim Chim,” Jungkook said seriously, his cheeks flushed from the hot sun. Seokjin held his hand.

“Okay, let’s go splish splash,” he agreed, looking to see if Namjoon was ready to go. He had Taehyung clinging to his back and Hoseok’s hand in his.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin squeezed Jungkook’s hand. “Ready.”

(In which Namjoon and Seokjin take the boys to the beach.)

Namjoon and Seokjin go to the beach with their five little kids which means laughter, tears, fears, excitement and every emotion you can think of. This was too cute, especially Jungkook’s obsession with crabs.

1.8. Vulnerable

“Jin?” Namjoon piped up, his voice small in the silence that had washed over them. Seokjin grunted in acknowledgement. “Do you ever… Do you ever…” Namjoon played with the hem of his sheets. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like to bury Taehyung?”

Seokjin’s book fell closed.

(In which Namjoon is terrified for his newest foster son, and rightfully so.)

Namjoon’s special connection with Taehyung and his inability to stop worrying about him. It broke my heart when he talks about his fears to Seokjin.

* my favourite stories

#yoonmin #yoonmin fic rec #ao3 #namjin #vhope #ym #mr

108 notes · View notes

kpopandcream · 6 years

Text

Moon Day IX

Pairing: Dongmin x Reader & Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Humour.

Warnings: Strong language, Implied smut, some dark themes.

Jungkook told you about Min Yoongi many times. How he didn’t take to strangers. How he preferred to stay unknown. How he thrived in the underbelly of society where he could do what he wanted without anyone caring. Yet, after many short talks about him, all of that information still seemed to land on deaf ears. You couldn’t remember a single thing about him except for his name, which landed you in a puddle full of milk and under a confused stare.

Word Count: 7.9k

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 , 7, 8, 9

Masterlist

Dongmin walked you home from the small fast food restaurant. SOojin gave you a flimsy hug before leaving, whispering to call her later. Ahro didn’t say a word at all but the war her arms slithered around you and squeezed unsettled you. There was an odd urgency in their movements, a want so deep but you didn’t understand. You couldn’t piece it together. There weren’t enough clues. There weren’t any half finished ideas. You were stuck, grasping at quickly falling strings that frayed at your touch, causing you to think the worst of things.

For the walk, you tried to participate in an active conversation but the whispers in the back of your mind consumed you. you were being eaten by half-words, half-sentences, half-nothings. Dongmin noticed, like he always did, and his fountain of words slowly trickled to a stop. The few beats that passed were filled with a thick silence that might have been comfortable for him but it was quite the opposite for you. You didn’t know for how long you’d been connected at your hands but it did make something in your heart settle. The clouds in your head were lowered so you floated just above the ground, letting you live in reality but only partially.

When his finger traced its way down your palm, you realized you were near home. Dongmin glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as he usually did when he didn’t want you to see it. The little smile that reached his lips looked a little sour and you could guess the words he was going to say.

“Finally remember I exist?”

With your free hand, you pushed your hair out of your face and let out an embarrassed breath, screwing your eyes shut for a moment. Shivering lightly because of the winter chill, you apologized and leaned into him, shoulder bumping into his arm.

“There’s just a lot happening up here,” you murmured, pointing to your head half-heartedly. He nodded, saying that there always is a lot happening in your head while his free hand fell in his pocket. You looked as he handed you a small box filled with toothpicks from his coat and the weight pressed in your palm was odd. Nearly forming the question he knew was coming, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him, mouth perched and confused. His little grin spread further across his lips, eyes mimicking crescent moons and voice filling with amusement.

“I’d like to pick your mind,” he stated so obviously, finding himself the funniest he could be and you blinked, caught between the stupidity of the joke but also the bubbling laughter in your throat. Quickly, you pressed the small box against his chest, trying not to show him the growing smile on your lips but he laughed nonetheless, pulling you closer to wrap an arm around you as he did so.

“I’m telling you nothing,” you chuckled, eliciting a small pout from those rounded lips of his. Coming to the front of your building, you turned to face him slowly. His thin fingers ticked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and you found yourself resting into his touch. He led you slowly to the wall of your building, hands moving from your neck to your hips and holding them gingerly. He crooned small pleads to get you to speak your mind, slipping his arms further around you and bringing you so close that it felt like he was sheltering you- to make you feel comfortable.

The light outside your building was a blinding white but it gave him a sort of halo as he tilted his head down to look at you. Little sparks of light danced in his eyes, making him looked so alive, and you were entrapped in the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that could ever catch his eye. It was less so wonder than it was a comfortable realization that the person he was in front of was something he’d been waiting for. It was a pure and baren stare that consumed your whole soul and made you want to give yourself up to him. If not for the realist in you that fought the romance floating in your brain, you might have just let yourself forget every worry that night.

Yet, your hands still came to press lightly against his chest and fidget with the many layers of his coat and vest, adjusting them all as you spoke. “It’s just something Soojin said.”

Tearing your eyes from his, you focused on his clothing, buttoning and unbuttoning them to reveal and hide the white dress shirt underneath. He hummed lightly, urging you to continue with an encouraging nod. You never felt his eyes leave your face but the embarrassment in your cheeks forced you to keep your eyes down.

“And it was about you. Well, she didn’t even really say anything, she just tried to but then Jungkook interrupted and you guys came and she stopped. I know we promised to talk about problems when they came up so I didn’t want to hide this from you or anything- like, I meant to ask you what she might have said. I just get worked up sometimes though and really in my head and I guess it scared me more than it should have because I… I really like you, Dongmin.” You paused here, tilting your head up to gauge his expression at this obvious statement. When there was no immediate shift in his gaze, you bit down on your lip and looked back down again, fidgeting with your sleeves as you muttered, “I don’t want to get hurt is all.”

The mechanical movement of fingers that had come to fix your hair behind your ears stopped slowly but his breathing remained calm. You found that keeping these words within you hurt more than letting them out and a portion of you was so proud for saying it so calmly. You had an idea of yourself as a radically expressive person who let their feelings control them but, in this, you felt matured. Dongmin didn’t say anything, seemingly to figure out how to progress. You were well aware that he avoided confrontation and he wouldn’t want a fight out of this but that didn’t stop the worry from building in your heart. If he had to think about it this much, did he really mess up that bad?

“Look,” he started and the tone was enough to make your stomach fall at a sickening rate, “I was going to tell you but I needed their opinion because I- I didn’t want you to be upset.”

With those words and the dipping of his eyes, blood coursed through your ears louder. He shouldn’t have prefaced his speech with that and it caused worry to build a knot in your chest like a poorly knit ball. He pressed his lips together and stepped the smallest bit away, seeming almost embarrassed to say what he was going to say. You brought your hands behind your back, palms pressed against the wall to keep you perched upwards with a large pout on your lips.

“It’s just that I kind of,” he trailed off here, keeping his gaze on the ground and hands not knowing what to do with themselves, “I was in a sort of relationship with this girl when we weren’t talking. It was mostly physical and I needed comfort and I was mad because I’d never broken out of my comfort zone before. I thought it would help but it didn’t and I stopped seeing her immediately after Jungkook’s party. I promise I did.

“I doubt she even remembers my name, that’s how meaningless it was. I wouldn’t even remember hers if I didn’t feel guilty about it- about lying and keeping it from you.” Dongmin looked like he had more to say after finishing his sentence but refrained from it, looking at you through his eyelashes and the fringes of his hair.

You let out the breath you were holding, stuck between an odd relief and slight anger. While you were glad it wasn’t anything too serious, you couldn’t help but be annoyed he didn’t tell you in the first place. Finding out about it would’ve been worse through Soojin and Ahro though, so you were glad to have asked him. It was just unfortunate that he thought he needed to hide it from you in the first place, like you were some fragile thing that needed to be handled with care. You understood he cared but it was mildly annoying that he needed other people’s opinions on what he could or could not tell you.

For a brief moment, you wondered what else he was keeping secret from you and wanted to press to ask. The caged up part of you wanted to interrogate him, see if he had anymore left to tell you but you kept that part of you in check. It was irrational and crazy to believe he was hiding something else from you. Thinking any of that would lead to distrust and that was the very last thing you could ever want. So, you simply reached out to him again and felt the weight of his body in your hands.

“I’m not that upset,” you admitted, hiding the part of you that you hated the most from him. He didn’t deserve to see the controlling person you tried hard not to be so, when he exhaled in relief and came closer to you, your heart settled for the moment. His eyes fluttered shut as you brushed the hair that had fallen into his eyes away. “I just need to ask why.”

“I missed you,” he murmured, coming closer to lean his forehead against yours. Thee tilting of your chin upwards was coupled with the slow blinking of his eyes. His hands came into yours, knitting your fingers with his as he continued, “and I needed some sort of comfort. I wanted to feel closer to someone and that’s how I thought I could.”

“It didn’t work,” you deadpanned, voice quiet and he huffed a laugh.

“Yeah.”

You simply hummed and tilted your head up more, causing a slight bump of your noses. His eyes lightened as he looked at you, moonlight filtering through the small spaces between your bodies. He let go of your hands to let them wrap themselves around his shoulders while his wandered to the bottom of your back. In that moment, your heart seemed to understand that, under the moon, you two thrived. You were those that lived in the night and had souls as old as the years, finding each other again and again in the depths of the darkness. You became each other’s light and you basked in it like the lilies in your heart couldn’t bloom without it. The way he looked at you could cause water to ripple and you could see yourself in those eyes of his: and you looked happy.

“I understand,” you whispered lightly, though you were sure both of you weren’t following a real conversation by now. He swayed slowly to the music in his head, breathing an apology onto your lips as they touched. Threatening lighting, your skin touched his and you stayed his way for a long beat. Your eyes closed and his head leaned in further, fitting just beside yours in the warm embrace.

Your previous worry didn’t subside but any form of anger dissipated into the lazy wind as it blew by. Though, the moment was beautiful and you let the romantic in your soul sweep you off your feet. The two of you were wrapped in years of unspoken words and emotions and lost time. Everything about you gave into the sweetness of his touch and you handed him the very heart you’d given to so many people before that night. Whether he knew it or not, he was responsible for the beating of it, the pounding of which becoming the tune to which you march across all lines of friendship into a perfect little something else.

Yes, you were worried and for all the right reasons, you decided. You were right to be but it was okay. You figured if you were worried, it was a good sign. You wanted it to be okay so bad that the idea of everything taking the wrong turn scared you. It wasn’t that it couldn’t but what ifs would gnaw at you and you supposed that maybe, this was love: being scared for your life but taking every step forward to something that could be great. Being scared was natural but you knew that, as your fingers laced together, you were going to be okay. You knew more than anything that you were most definitely going to be okay.

“Are you sure you want to come to this?” Jungkook looked at you from the driver’s seat, hands loosely on the steering wheel. He was leading you to a cabin just out of the city and the streets you were on were no longer concrete. You slowly turned your head to face him, feet up on the dashboard and bored look on your face.

“We’re nearly two hours away from home and you decide to ask me now?” You quirked up an eyebrow at him and he pressed his lips together, leaning forward to look at something a little ways down the road. You couldn’t read the sign from where you were but, with an apology from Jungkook’s mouth and the constant peddling of the car forward, it became clear.

It was a makeshift sign with large letters and bright colours stuck in the snow. The large trees covered a lot of the bright sunlight but from the rays seeping through the needles, you could make out the words:

Namjoon’s Super Cool Super Awesome One Day Retreat!!!

This caused a small smile to appear on your face and, as you passed it, you pointed to finalize your argument. “I was invited and I took the day off work… plus how could you deny me from having a super cool super awesome one day retreat?”

Jungkook simply gave you a look and the smile you expected from your little joke was replaced with a frown. You didn’t understand why he was so against you coming. If he didn’t want you here, he shouldn’t have offered to drive and yet, here you were in his car, listening to his shitty pop music with the heat cranked all the way up that made you regret wearing clothes at all. Though, it got you thinking. There were many things Jungkook didn’t want you to do but that you ended up doing despite him. The question was always why and it always puzzled you when you asked, but it didn’t necessarily stop you.

“Why didn’t you want me to meet Min Yoongi?” you managed as the car wound through tiny back streets. There were signs stuck along the path to help people through but Jungkook wasn’t even looking at them, eyes landing on you for a moment before they returned to the road.

He tightened his hands around the wheel slowly and muttered, “it’s a long story.”

“How cryptic,” you mused, turning in your seat to face him and dragging your feet off the dash. You leaned forward, chin resting in your palm now as you narrowed your eyes. “Tell me more.”

“They’re just not the people you think they are, okay?” His words snapped at yours and for the rest of the short ride, he stayed silent. You were taken aback by how sharp he’d been. Usually he was snippy and it was funny but this was serious. There was no twinge of a joke in this and you found it unsettling. You sat back in your seat, tucking your chin into your chest and pouting until the lights of a cabin hit your eyes.

It was stunning. The whole house was made of wood, panelled and antique looking as if no one should ever live inside. It was a deep brown with a large porch running around the entire house. The porch was covered by the roofing, allowing for the small swing and porch chairs to be set up all year round. From the chimney and behind the house, smoke rose in a twirl, like it was dancing with the sky and you watched it with an opened mouth. Remnants of snow hung to the railings and the top of the roof but bright, orange lights shone within the house. The house even stood in a clearing so it seemed illuminated more by the sun and you were in awe.

“Namjoon is this rich?” you asked without even thinking, absolutely starstruck as the car stopped in the pebble driveway. Jungkook fidgeted in his seat before finally turning off the ignition. As he exited the car, he have you a wary look.

“Kind of,” was all he said before closing the door behind him and pocketing his keys. You slipped on your coat and quickly got out too, excited to see the inside and all the wonders it held. There was faint music and laughter at the back of the house, which Jungkook made his way to. You followed, finding a game in stepping in his footsteps.

“Taehyung, stop it! Don’t put your hand on the gri- TAEHYUNG!”

“One! Two! Three!” The man’s voice sounded pained but the yell of pure glory after was all that really mattered in the end. It brought a silly grin to your lips as you rounded the corner to see Taehyung high five Jimin before wincing and saying it hurt.

“Well, Namjoon did tell you to stop,” Yoongi muttered, back to you and sipping a cup of water. Namjoon was going off about irresponsibility, absolutely red in the face as he ran into his house to get bandages, coming back just as quickly. Jimin was the only one besides Taehyung who was amused, almost saying something but spotting Jungkook and you.

Completely abandoning Taehyung, Jimin came to wrap his arms around Jungkook, saying he just missed the best part of the night.

“Well, no, I think I just saw it,” Jungkook chuckled before turning to you and introducing you, although they already knew who you were. Jimin hugged you as well before smiling politely and stepping away. Yoongi gave you a curt nod and lifted his glass before going inside and closing the door behind him. Namjoon didn’t really seem to care, giving a short hello before tending to Taehyung sloppily, messing up his bandage but trying his hardest. You nearly offered to help but Tae’s grin was wide as he waved from you and distracted you.

“You know, I’m really happy Shareen’s in town again,” Jimin said excitedly, taking Jungkook with him inside as they began to speak. Jungkook mentioned Jimin’s girlfriend would be there and you were happy to see Jimin’s smile as he spoke about her.

“So you put your hand on the grill?” you asked, dropping your bag on a chair near the barbeque and opening the hood again as Tae nodded, going to explain why but getting cut off. You felt the heat waft out immediately and shook your head, getting an earful from Namjoon who was struggling to pin the bandage around Tae’s hand.

“Ouch, that hurts,” Taehyung whined, pouting and you caught the look of annoyance on Namjoon’s face with a light smile.

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if you didn’t do stupid things,” he began but you simply placed a hand on his shoulder and he closed his mouth. He gave you a stern look and then Taehyung and muttered, “we’ll talk about this later.”

As he left, the door rattling shut behind him, you gave Tae a sympathetic look. Those rounded eyes of his stared back at you, slightly upset but you worked at the bandage to not embarrass him. You slowly unravelled it, looking in the small medical kit beside him for any balm to put on the burn. Applying it slowly, you had the whistling wind to accompany you, silence filling the air between you. You could feel the tension in Taehyung and pretended not to notice the way his lips shook before he pulled them in between his teeth. Keeping your eyes down, you wrapped the bandage around exactly how Seokjin taught you. When you reached for the scissors to cut the material, Taehyung’s voice came lightly.

“All I do is disappoint him, you know?” This caused you to look him dead in the eye, confused but also understanding of exactly what that meant. Chatter inside distracted you as Taehyung leaned away and avoided your gaze once more. He muttered lightly, “I want to be just like him but all I do is make him upset that we’re friends.”

“I’m sure that’s not it at all,” you whispered lightly, not knowing what else to say while cutting the bandage so you could fasten it with the pin. Tae simply scoffed, turning his head to the side so he faced the looming trees not too far off. The sun was a little lower in the sky and you saw the way it filtered through his hair and painted shadows across his forehead.

“I guess you wouldn’t know anymore,” he murmured lightly. You furrowed your eyebrows, pinning the bandage together. The second you did so, Tae retracted his arm and gave you a kind thank you as he lowered his head. He made his way inside as well and you were left with the cleaning supplies, utterly confused. Anymore?

The chattering from inside seemed muffled compared to the wind blowing outside that was picking up speed. While you tidied up, you let the whipping of it move past your body, shifting the hairs that stuck out of the hat placed tightly on your ears. Everything seemed to have its exact place in the little box Namjoon had set up for himself in emergencies. There wasn’t a thing too big or too small, everything fitting exactly where it should. You paused for a moment, looking at the completed box and feeling an overwhelmed wave wash over you. You couldn’t understand it but staring at the medical kit made you uncomfortable so you shut it quickly, picked up the light duffle-bag from the chair and proceeded inside yourself.

Sounds and smells and the bright orange that was overshadowed by the high sun before was now bleeding into the snow outside due to the high trees and evening coming over the earth. There was laughter further into the kitchen and the brightest smiles you’d seen from two girls you met at Jungkook’s party a little while ago. They introduced themselves to you as Heeji and Devina with hair long and black but soft as silk. They moved as one and spoke in high voices but it was comforting to have some familiar faces. They led you to the room you needed to be in and sat with you as you unpacked, happily getting to know you.

“So you’re Seokjin’s younger sister?” Heeji asked brightly, leaning against a bedpost with both arms wrapped around it like a sloth. Her eyes were wide and kind and boring into you. With a shy smile, eyes averting hers and folding a shirt, you nodded.

“Yeah, I am. How do you-”

“Oh, Taehyung talks about him a lot,” Devina assured, using her hand to gesture down the stairs to the others. Your mouth curled into a small ‘o’ though it didn’t fully click for you why he would. Devina spoke more than she needed to and would disclose it to you anyways.

“I think he really looks up to your brother. He talks about Seokjin like he wants to be him sometimes and is always praising how far ahead in his career he is. It’s weird that your brother is so young but so successful, you know?”

Heeji hummed in agreeance, closing her large eyes and opening them slowly. She looked at you expectantly, touching on Devina’s darker skin with her nails lightly as she spoke. “Is he coming tonight?”

“My brother?” Your eyebrows shot up at the question, pretending not to notice the eagerness in Devina’s face. Her skin seemed to light up at the idea of him, nodding lightly and you repeated the action. As you turned from them to fit your clothes in a small wardrobe, you added, “he wanted to bring his girlfriend but she couldn’t make it so he’s bringing another friend of his.”

“Oh,” Heeji breathed, saving Devina the disappointment. You gave them a kind small, uncomfortable with the situation. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the two girls but more so that their kindness came off as a bit overpowering. Though it was welcome, you weren’t always open to those people. At one point in your conversation where you seemed to fade into the background, they left you to finish unpacking, claiming they were going to get drinks.

“We’ll see you at dinner?” Heeji asked rather than stating but didn’t wait for a response. She simply disappeared down the padded stairs with a wave and a thin smile. You returned it before sitting on the small bed and exhaling lightly.

The outside of the cottage was a deep colour but inside, the walls were panelled with a light wood and they were lacquered to shine. You ran a hand over the wall, feeling where the pieces came together and where imperfections in the wood were. Some light brown and black stains covered the walls but it was more so a design than anything else. The lamps and rooms all held orange lightbulbs as well, making the insides look like a warm hearth. It was comfortable and beautiful but the bathrooms were a bright white that hurt to stand under. Though, it would be good for makeup, you supposed.

The other side of the room held a larger bed, made for two people. Heeji and Devina informed you that they would charitably take the larger bed and give you the single so as to not make you uncomfortable. You nearly snorted at the thought, leaning back on the soft covers and closing your eyes. Everything about this reminded you of an old memory, where your parts would rent out a winter cottage for the entire two weeks of winter break and you’d spend time in the snow, laughing until you couldn’t breath. You remembered Seokjin disappearing into a large mound of snow and screeching for help. You remembered going skating on large hills and dipping under tables as you had snowball fights. You remembered old family friends and getting perched on top of tall snowmen with your friends and taking stupid pictures. There was a spreading of fondness in your heart and suddenly, you were happy to be here.

Amongst most things, everyone kept pressing in on you and Dongmin. There was Seokjin from one side, and your parents from another, and sometimes there would be Soojin disapproving of it. Ahro was as sweet as they came but you could tell even she had her reservations. You cared but also it bothered you that you couldn’t just be happy- that everyone’s opinion weighed down on you like this. You needed some time alone but not home, where everything still felt oppressive. You needed to just have a small vacation where you could think for yourself and really realize the happiness that was sprouting in your heart. You needed a simple escape and you hoped that Namjoon’s super cool, super awesome one day retreat would give you that.

A knock on the door to your room alerted you and you opened one eye to see Yoongi standing in the doorway. He still had that tall glass in his hand but it was filled now and his hand was clutching it from the bottom. The smile that touched his lips was quiet and overshadowed by the darkness of the doorframe. The light shining behind him did give him a beautiful glow and you couldn’t help but wave fondly.

“Can I come in?” His voice was soft and low but familiar. You hummed, hoping he’d take it as a yes, and sat up slowly. One hand moved to rub sleep out of the corner of your eye as he walked into the room, looking around you.

“Tough luck, huh? You’re rooming with Heeji and Devina and they never shut up,” he informed you, a little chuckle forming at his teeth. You groaned, pouting and giving him a helpless look.

“Save me,” you drew out and this elicited another chuckle. He motioned to sit beside you and you nodded, moving over your charger and phone to make space for him. As he sat, he whined and rubbed at his knees with his free hand, making you smile lightly.

“I would if I could but we have a strict ‘no purple’ rule here at Namjoon’s outing this year.” He used finger quotations while he spoke, taking the moment you leaned to plug in your charger and phone to take a sip. As the picture of you and Dongmin making silly faces at each other lit up, indicating your phone was charging, he spoke again but it was cautious and slower, almost hesitant.

“It’s to make the single people feel less lonely or some stupid shit like that.”

You simply turned, moving the pillow so it was standing upright against the wall the bed was propped against. You pressed your back to it, crossing your legs and leaning forward. “But Jimin and Shareen are sleeping together, I’m assuming?”

Yoongi simply nodded deeply, making an ‘isn’t it obvious’ face as he brought his legs up onto your bed too. He leaned against the backboard, facing you as he crossed his legs. Your toes nearly touched and it seemed like a coy gesture when they did so you looked away. A beat of silence fell between you two and the clinking of his rings against his glass filled them until his voice came again, pristine and still like a river.

“Namjoon told me you and Dongmin were dating.” He looked up at you for confirmation. You didn’t say anything but the way his eyes darted between yours seemed to give him everything he needed to know. He changed his position, bringing on leg up against his chest while the other fell off the bed and he wrapped his arm around it as he thought. You were unsure where this was going but he suddenly looked saddened and it somehow broke your heart, watching his head dip down and the hair that had grown long rest over his eyes.

“I think that makes sense for you though,” he said rather cryptically, twining his words together to make them coherent but they didn’t click in your head, “and I think he’s good for you.”

He didn’t look at you once in this, finger picked at a string in the blanket. The sleeves of his shirt covered most of his large hands so he seemed smaller than he was, and the shirt was oversized in and of itself. He seemed swallowed in the material, his only saving grace being the place where he tucked it into the front of his jeans. You watched him for a moment, not understanding, and the words slipped out without you controlling them.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Dongmin is kind and you need that. You wouldn’t be suited for someone like Namjoon or like me.” He lifted his head at this, staring at you to gauge your response. You chose your words carefully here, unsure of why but you came closer to him. This caused a straightening of his back and an electricity sparked in your heart that scared you.

“Do you want me to be?” you asked, wanting it to sound like an innocent question but you knew it didn’t.

You were facing each other, your legs folded under you and his head matching up to yours, just a hand’s distance away from yours. He was craning forward too but there was something that stopped the both of you, a sort of obligation and an understanding of an otherworldly force. His eyes were laying themselves bare to you, parting clouds you never thought you’d see past. There was such vulnerability there and such terror in being this close because what if? The darkness didn’t help with the allure of his deep skin, the only light source coming from a lamp further into the room and the hallway behind him. He looked so mysterious but somehow, the hand that found its way onto your own felt so familiar. It traced its way up your arm and then back down, looking for your fingers and something so desperately within in him broke.

His voice shook in the slightest, quieter and more personal than ever. His breath hit the skin below your chin, whispering, “honestly? Yes. I want that very much.”

The ropes that had tethered themselves around your hearts pulled on themselves, tugging you so close that you nearly wanted to let those lips of your touch his, to experience the fire you felt you’d given up on, to feel so passionately alive. You nearly made the biggest mistake of your life, so close to Yoongi and so far from your responsibilities. Your heart bent at the tugging, bent so far in two that it hurt to be this close and you leaned away. Dongmin’s face flickered in your mind like a flashlight, soft eyes and words that rippled water and reminded you of the best things in the world.

You clenched your hands into fists and sat back, back pressed against the pillow now. The two of you seemed far away, the glass Yoongi was holding now spilling water onto the floor. The sound seemed to be the only thing filling the void, your chests falling up and down. His eyes bore into you, begging for something you didn’t know how to give. Then suddenly, he got up, collected his cup and whispered an apology. His feet carried him away, down the steps into a world that wasn’t your own. You remained in that thick universe, full of regret and confusion and needing to call Dongmin.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side of the phone was enough to encourage your heart to slow and you lay down, pressing your ear against your pillow and breathed out deeply. “I miss you.”

He chuckled lowly, the smile on his lips so evident through the static. “I knew you would.”

Snow fell like diamonds from the sky and drifted closer and closer, dancing with each other before melting in the fire that crackled. You were sat between Taehyung, who was in a happier mood now thanks to the alcohol, and Namjoon, who was somehow talking about the complexity of burning firewood and how it related to life. You listened without hearing what he was saying but nodded along nonetheless. Seokjin was across the fire, roasting marshmallows for everyone very loudly and saying he was the best at it. Though, he burned one and Hoseok hadn’t let it go since. Heeji and Devina were in deep conversation with Jimin and Shareen, talking about the most superficial of things but it was funny to watch Jimin’s reactions. It seemed only you were silent amongst everyone, Yoongi even participating and cracking a laugh here and there with Jungkook, the both of them teasing your brother mercilessly. Yet, when your eyes met, Yoongi’s smile would melt and the snow he was made of parted to show someone so fragile. You could only look away or twidle with your phone.

“Thank you about my hand, by the way,” Taehyung sang, stringing an arm behind you to rest on the logs made for people to sit on them. You raised your eyebrows from your phone, texting Ahro a funny picture but giving him a tight lipped smile.

“It’s no problem.”

You hoped to turn back to your phone, unsure why you were still outside but somehow being inside made you feel trapped. There was no knowing what other mistakes were around every corner and you didn’t want to take any risks. The beauty of being outside was the crisp air that kept you awake and alert. The warmth was what harmed you the most, you were convinced, but sleeping was also such a dream of yours. You were caught between these thoughts but Tae didn’t seem to notice, continuing his little speech.

“Seokjin used to patch me up all the time, you know? Whenever the seven of us went outside and we would do crazy shit. He used to bring me to your house and complain and complain but he was always there. Him and Jimin,” he hummed, looking across the fire before looking at you. He had such a childish expression, cheeks plump and lips spread out over a soft smile. There was an innocence about him that made you feel at peace, like you were friends in some alternate universe.

“I don’t remember that,” you admitted, feeling bad. Taehyung’s brown hair shifted and he shook his head as he leaned back, shrugging.

“You weren’t home much.”

You nodded, taking his word for it before pausing and furrowing your eyebrows. Seokjin and you had lived together for a fair amount of time, your parents pushing the two of you to be independent and free. They really pressed for this so you were always at his beck and call, wanting to do the best for him. You had a curfew, you had a job, you had structure. It made no sense for you not to be home much.

“Are you sure?” A concern built in your chest, wondering if your memory was acting up again, if you were having some sort of lapse. You had been doing so well lately that it would have broken your heart if you were missing something again. You were just starting to move past this.

Taehyung nodded, skin crumpling around his chin as he stuck his bottom lip out. “Yeah. I never saw you and Jin-hyung said it was for the best- that I’d try to steal you or something.”

This was supposed to be a joke, Tae being the only one laughing lightly. You simply stared at him intently, hoping to get more but there was nothing. He rambled about something else while Namjoon drank his beer and Seokjin was preoccupied. Hoseok screeched a laugh, clapping as he doubled over. Someone threw a snowball. Jungkook ate his snacks. Everything moved forward before you and you seemed stuck in that spot. An inexplicable anxiety built and built its way up and you were glued to your seat as everyone left. Shareen and Jimin were the first to leave and Devina and Heeji were the last, this order absolutely not shocking at all. The only people left around the simmering fire were you and Namjoon, who was intently staring at the embers like he had something to say.

You poked at his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond to this, only looking up and narrowing his eyes before brimming a smile. “Want to look at some pictures with me?”

Slowly, you agreed, lifting the blanket off your knees and shaking it. Namjoon began collecting the clothes left behind as well, cleaning up as he kicked some snow onto the embers. He spoke while he did so, telling you this cottage had been in his family for many long years and they’d been taking people there every winter break. He said he was excited to have his friends over after such a long time, echoing what Seokjin had said earlier about missing everyone. There seemed to be a brotherly connection among them and it filled your heart but also broke it because you just couldn’t understand why they stopped seeing each other. You listened intently, nodding and adding in comments and happy to hear him speak. Last time you saw him, he looked very upset but that night, he looked like a flower blooming in the moonlight. It made you smile.

You hurried inside, towards the small lights and the warmth. He waved his hands around and placed them on your shoulders to rub them warm on the way, your hand drawing circles on his back. This was out of character for you but every touch seemed friendly, like Joon was simply looking out for you. It held none of the gravity of Yoongi’s touch and none of the coursing electricity. your heart was still, beating at no pace and not existing at all.

He removed boxes from boxes once you were inside, digging out from under the television set and the bookshelves that lined the walls for all the photo albums he could find. He handed you a bright yellow box, claiming it held its favourite ones. You sat there on the floor, watching him open the box and excitedly talk about every photograph he could.

“Look! With this one, we all saved up and went on a trip to different parts of Scandinavia- is it still called that? I don’t know, either way…” and he’d trail off, telling stories about Taehyung and Jungkook and their skills with cameras.

“Jungkook edited this one,” Namjoon grinned, looking so proud and touching the pictures at the edges. He held everything so gingerly but thrusted them into your hands like they were nothing. You held them like they were treasures, smiling and seeing Hoseok grinning with a plushie sun wrapped around his head. Jimin had black hair, which you recalled lightly, and he was wearing completely ripped jeans and squatting in front of the camera like he owned the world. There was a Yoongi, midway laughing with his mouth open. There was even one of four of them wearing face masks and making ridiculous faces to the camera. You could almost feel the life within them, flipping through so many pictures of Namjoon in beautiful scenes and parks.

“This one is one of my favourites,” Namjoon hummed, pointing at one of all seven boys, your brother included, taking pictures near a beach. There was sand behind them and the were all posing cutely with differently coloured striped tees. Hoseok was wearing a bright yellow and Taehyung wasn’t even looking at the camera. Jimin looked like he was throwing up a peace sign and Yoongi had his chin tilted up as he grinned. Seokjin looked so peaceful, smile bright and full. Everyone looked so happy. You felt your heart clench.

“I love it,” you whispered. Namjoon placed a hand on your shoulder and gave you an encouraging squeeze before stating he needed to go to the bathroom.

“Can I keep looking?”

He shrugged, getting up and away from you down a little hall. He threw these words behind him:

“Do whatever you want!”

You moved a few pictures over, still burrowing through that yellow box in front of you. It seemed small but it held so many wonders, like a gold mine. Your hands sifted through scenery and Namjoon and a bigger, brutish man. Turning it around, you saw the words ‘Jackjoon’s day out!’ scrawled on the back in terrible cursive. The whole thing made you smile still, this comfort in these pictures stealing away all previous thoughts in your head. You let the images dance around, creating possible scenarios for them and wondering how each and every one of them felt.

He had so many photos of your brother too, some you’d never seen before. In fact, this entire box seemed to keep an entire years worth of travels and adventure and fun. There was a date at the bottom of every picture, dating back to nearly two years ago. Yet, everything seemed so wonderful. It seemed like a world you wanted to live in and you desperately wanted to turn back time and jump into these lives- these smiles that stretched into seas of happiness.

Moving another picture over, you found a wrapped collection. Slowly, you removed them to get a good look, taking the casing off to count only four photos. This caused a furrowing of your eyebrows and you wondered how important they were that they needed to be hid. The first picture was sweet though, just all seven of them again. Four were lined up on a bench, side by side and squishing into each other though there was more than enough space. Yoongi was pressed against Jungkook, arm up in the air and mouth wide in a scream. The other three were above, shooting peace signs and little finger hearts, some halfway through talking. You laughed lightly at how sweet it was before flipping to the next one.

This had hair clouding the camera and it seemed to scream chaos, eyes diverted to the person running in. There was a waving of blurry arms and Jimin doubled over in laughter. You traced this lightly, hating the blurriness and flipping again. This one had the whole girl’s body, running with outstretched arms and coming beside Yoongi. His arm bowed for her, creating a place. Dust from the tan ground was kicked up into this picture but somehow, it made your heart race; and so you flipped.

The racing of your heart stopped. Your hands shook. The breath in your lungs was stolen and you felt almost cheated, looking at this picture and not understanding. You gasped for air, darting your eyes between the picture and the other ones. That hair looked so familiar. The face pressed into Yoongi’s, planting the biggest kiss on it. The look of disgust and the way Seokjin’s hand came to push them apart. You didn’t know what to think about it, feeling the world spin and the rug from under you run away. You tried to put your feet down again, to make your head come down from the clouds but it didn’t work. Nothing worked. Not even the tear that dripped onto the laminated photo.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Namjoon’s voice sliced through the air and his footsteps seemed to shake the very foundations which you held onto. You felt like someone had thrown you over a cliff and the nails you were hanging on by were shattering one by one. Meeting his eyes hurt you more than anything ever would.

“When was this?” you whispered, showing him the picture only to have his face drop. The picture that faced him was one of you and them, looking so unbearably happy with each other. Namjoon was even between yells in this and you could remember what he said.

“Get a room already!”

The tears that were on the verge of spilling came down when he said your name again, crumpling beside you and trying to explain. His words reached deaf ears, your heart devastated and cracking. All the cement in the world couldn’t fill the holes in it now and no bandage could fit it together. You felt naked and alone, shrouded by a familiar darkness. The worst bit about it was that you remembered exactly how you felt in that moment and that happiness was unparalleled with anything you’d ever felt since.

A/N: so hey! um I know this took me lowkey forever to do and I’m sorry but I hope you can understand why! I was listening to my vinyl the entire time for this and I had to be home alone and ah, full stress man but I hope you enjoyed! Please remember there are only a few more chapters left so hang in there! See you in the next one! Feel free to inbox me any of your questions!

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