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#damn haven’t done marvel in a hot min
traditionallymodern · 3 years
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𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁𝗹𝘆: Country gnomes, take my bones, to a place, they don’t belong
𝗧𝗼𝗻𝘆: Kid??? You ok?
𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘆, 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗱: WEST VIRGINIA
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justreadingfics · 4 years
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It’s a Deal (Chapter 4)
Chapter Summary: You have a challenge for Bucky.  
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 5.1k
Warnings:+18 only, smut, masturbation, boytoy!Bucky, casual sex, open relationship, unrealistic sexual performance, the tiniest bit of angst related to past relationships.
A/N: Next chapters we’ll move forward with the plot and it will be less smut centric, maybe… I can’t promise anything, actually, lol.  I dedicate this chapter to @suz-123​, who’s a Rockstar and to @tilltheendwilliwrite​ who once wrote chapter 10 of Canadian Girl (if you haven’t read it, yet, I don’t know what you’re doing with your life) and this chapter is heavily inspired on a certain aspect of it, with a small twist. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. Tag list for this story is closed.
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The sight meeting your gaze as soon as you step out of your bathroom is one to behold. There is the man himself, laying sprawled and careless across your bed, unashamedly naked while nonchalantly scrolling through his phone, like he hasn’t just now done unspeakable things to you right there.
You take in a contented sigh. How lucky are you to have found a fuck buddy like Bucky? Incredibly hot and handsome, with all those uncountable muscles on his whole body and the most gorgeous face you’ve ever seen. He’s breathtaking to look at and to feel in each sensitive part of your body.
But it’s not just that, that you’re lucky for. His damn personality… So uncomplicated, laid back, straightforwardly honest and, even in all his blatant whoriness, more considerate towards women than any man you’ve ever known, Eddie included. You know about his tragic backstory and you can only wonder the path he had to take to get where he is now.
Apart from the amazing fuck, it’s been so fun to get to spend time with him and get to know the way he thinks, his life philosophy. You’ve found out that relationships don’t have to be complicated, that you don’t need to love or date someone to have a nice time together and that fun and respect can walk hand in hand. Also, something you didn’t know about yourself: that you can be fun and laid back, too.
You can tell Bucky enjoys spending time with you as much as you do with him, you know he’s not faking. The only reason he would have to fake in that situation would be to get you in his bed and he wouldn’t have to, since you got into that deal just exactly for that. Also, he’s too transparent, he has been from the beginning. And with him, you’ve become a fun person in these last few days… or maybe that’s who you were all along and just didn’t know.  
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
In your gawking, you haven’t noticed his cell phone now laying forgotten on the mattress beside him as he tilts his body to the side, facing you, and supports his head on his hand, with that signature smirk of his, completely unbothered by how exposed he is.
In fact, so are you, as you smile and walk back to your bed in all your nakedness, “And what a damn view,” you cheekily say, laying in front of him and mimicking his position. You can’t help but reach over and trace your fingers over the hard muscles of his flesh arm and ripped chest, “I’ve never seen so many muscles gathered in only one person,” you add, completely serious with your admiration.
He chuckles, “Well, that thing they injected in me helped a lot.”  
You don’t have to ask who they are. Every once in a while he mentions his past but it’s always quick and with no sign of heaviness. It does feel like you’ve met him in a new and brighter stage of his life. Your eyes, which have been following the path traced by your fingers, drop to his lower body. Like it usually happens right after you had sex or between the sexy sessions, he’s not as hard as you know he can get, but he’s definitely not completely soft. You’ve been nurturing that curiosity for a while and now you see the opening to bring it up.
“You know, I’ve been wondering,” you start, a little timid and avoiding his eyes, “Did the serum help with… ahm, other things, too?” You glance at him before letting your eyes drop to that particular part of his body, hoping you’ve made yourself clear.
“What do you mean?”
When you look back at him the confusion on his face is poorly feigned and you know he’s messing with you.
“You just want me to say it, don’t you?” You squint your eyes, pulling back your wandering hands from his beefy body, and when he only keeps the faked expression on his face and shrugs, you decide to play along and blurt out, punctuating each word, “Your cock, your fucking marvelous and precious huge cock, Bucky. That’s what I mean.”
You can’t help but grin widely as he lets out a belly laugh, his head falling backwards on the mattress before he comes back to the position on his side facing you with a satisfied and teasing smile on him.
“I’ll tell you what, it didn’t mess up with the size, sweetheart. That’s all good old human biology there, no evil super juice needed.” He bites his lower lip and winks, making you roll your eyes playfully, “But, like you know, I’m always honest and I’m not gonna  lie to you. It did pump me up with the…” he pouts and squeezes his eyes, as if looking for the right word, “Performance,” he adds, satisfied with his choice.    
“How so?” You cock an eyebrow, very interested in the information.  
“It basically raised my levels of stamina way higher. I’m always ready to go,” he says like it’s no big deal, “As long as I have motivation, of course. Like such a pretty dame like you,”  He gestures towards your naked body with a reverence and winks, prompting a heat to rush up to your cheeks at the old fashioned but still efficient term, which sounds surprisingly sexy coming out of his lips as he says it so naturally while you both lay stark-naked next to each other.  
“Oh…” it slips out of your lips before your forehead creases, “Hold on…You’re telling me that as long as I… ahm… motivate you, or something, you can keep it up, no matter how many times?”
That teasing smugness etches on his face again as he tightens and twists his lips, “Pretty much, yeah,” he answers, bringing a hand to stroke the curve of your hips. 
“Huh,” you let out in a puffed breath as you come to your conclusion, “You’re practically a human dildo.” Your eyes widen as soon as you realize what you just said, “Sorry,” you cringe.
“No offense taken at all,” he chuckles, the corner of his eyes crinkling in that way you find adorably sexy, “I’m actually flattered…”  he adds before boring a suspicious gaze into you yours, “I see something glimmering in your eyes, though.”
You bite your lower lip. The mere thought and the teasing hand on your body are enough to rouse your senses and make your entire skin prickle, “Just an idea that crossed my mind,” you answer, voice a little trembling with equal parts of horniness and nervousness in presenting said idea.   
“Ooooo… this sounds exciting. Tell me,” he encourages, putting a bit more pressure on where his hand touches your skin and dragging his body closer to yours.  
“Well…” Your gaze comes across his mouth now that is so closed to yours as you bring your eyes down to follow your fingers dancing over his chest again, brushing over the little whiskers of hair there, “Since we know you can keep it up… ahm…indefinitely,” Your fingers skim lower and lower and his breath hovers yours as a humming sound for you to continue not only touching but talking slips out of his lungs, “It would be interesting to find out how much I can take it, don’t you think?” You lift innocent eyes to his from under your eyelashes.  
A groan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips, with the certainty of leaving marks, “Let me see if I got it straight… You wanna find out how many times you can orgasm in one night?” Like usual, he speaks more directly than you, the lust dark in his gaze.  
“I’m pretty curious… aren’t you?” Your hand wanders down the muscles of his body and follows the path of little hairs, which gets thicker and thicker till you reach his now fully rigid cock.
He brushes his parted lips over yours and lets out a deep exhale as you wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s hard as a rock and twitches in your hand, you’re still amazed that it has reached that point again just by the teasing exchange and little touches.
“Oh yeah, you’re very, very curious, too, I see,” you tease him again, slowly pumping him with your fist.  
“That I am… that I am,” he whispers, his hot and heavy breath hovering yours as his hips ever so lightly starts rocking against your hand. “But, tell me,” he asks putting on some seriousness on his voice, “Would this very obliging sex toy over here be allowed to use not only my fucking marvelous and precious huge cock,” he repeats your words using the same tone as yours, “But also other equally skilled parts of my body, like tongue,” he darts his tongue to lightly lick your upper lip, but quickly retrieves it back to continue speaking, tickling your skin with the tip of his fingers as he drags them from your hips towards your lower belly, “Fingers-”
You suck in a whine, already too turned on to prolong the teasing, “Now it’s definitely not the time to start with rules- ah-” Apparently you aren’t the only one ready to get into the real action as he bats your hand away and swiftly shifts on the bed, rolling over you and between your legs.
When he reaches over the nightstand right next to you, where he already knows is your stash of condoms, you stop him with a hand on his forearm. He looks down at you questioningly as he hovers you supporting himself with his arms on the mattress.  
“You told me before you can’t get sick due the serum. It means you wouldn’t pass me anything, either, right?” You ask, somehow managing to regulate your breathing.
“Yeah, that’s right.” He nods.
“I’m on birth control since forever,” you add, heavily implying what you want from him. 
“Are you sure?” He checks, “I really don’t mind-“
“I wanna fucking feel it. All of it.” You reach between you two and wrap your hand around his bare cock.
“Fuck…” His eyes flutter shut at your touch before snapping open at you, filled with renewed hunger, “You’re in for a ride, sweetheart,” he breathes before grabbing your lips withs his.  
Number four – because he had already graced you with the first three, moments before -  happens right there when he pulls your legs up and bend them backwards till your knees straddle your face and takes you hard and raw, because neither of you can wait. Number five he flips you over and keeps you completely still under him, almost crushing you with his delicious weight, having his chest glued to your back as he shoves his hips into yours.
Six and seven happen in a row when he eats you out while you sit on the countertop of your kitchen, after a quick snack and water to regain your forces. Eight, he pounds into you from behind as you grab with sheer force the edges of said countertop…
You have no idea how many hours pass. It happens on your bed, in the kitchen, balcony, table, chairs. In the living room, sofa, carpet, floor, over your desk in your small office… The filthy smells filling up the air of your home along with naughty fluids left on your way. You don’t even dare to think about the cleaning you’ll have to do the next day. Your mind is completely blanked by the constancy of pleasure and sensitivity your body has been sunk into. His cock, lips, tongue, fingers, thigh, hot skin… all of him devoted to you, to your desire, as his body merges into yours turning you into a blur of bliss.
When you become just a sack of numb limbs and dizziness, he scoops you up from the living room carpet and rests you on your bed, bringing you water right before laying behind you, forming a breathless spoon on the mattress. He might be thinking you’re finally done, but if that’s the case, he’s miscalculating the effect the heat of his body against yours has on you. So, after you roll your hips against his cock – which hardens almost immediately- he lifts your leg and eases himself inside your poor, but still somehow ready and eager, cunt. Knowing how overstimulated you are, he reaches over you and just ever so lightly brushes a finger over your clit. That’s how you reach the 24th orgasm of the night and, at last, throw the towel.
“That was… something,” you say when you’re in the shower with him after a deserved, but quick nap, still in your sticky and fervent skins. When you announced you needed a shower, he joined you promptly, “I thought I would reach 15, 16 at most. I’m pretty impressed with you.”
He clicks his tongue, while pouring some of your shampoo on his hand, “Nah… you’re just underestimating you, sweetheart.” He puts the shampoo on his hair and brushes the locks with his fingers, “I, on the other hand, know exactly what kind of insatiable minx you are,” he says right before sinking his head under the shower to rinse his hair. 
Under the water he doesn’t see your jaw dropping and your outraged gasp, but he certainly feels the little shove on his chest to express your protests, because he takes his head out of the water and brushes the water out of his face with his hand, “What?”
“Fucking rude,” you answer, already laughing quietly, while using the sponge to leather your body.   
“Ok, I could’ve used better words, but I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, “But I get it. It’s been almost 80 years and somethings haven’t changed that much.” He twists his lips, reaching over  for the hair conditioning, “I know women grow up listening to this fucking culture who teach men and women that enjoying sex is a guy thing… and when a woman shows the opposite she’s judged, which is stupid. The issue is pure fucked up sociology rather than biology. A man needs a damn super serum to reach that many orgasms in one night while all women need is their own body and will. It’s lame what society can do when it comes to repressing women.” He shrugs.  
Once again your jaw drops, but for an entirely different reason, and for a while you just watch him, dumbfounded, while he hums a tune, applying conditioner on his long locks and dives his head on the running water again, like he hasn’t just now slapped your face with a damn feminist discourse about female sexuality, “That’s… true…” You have no choice but to agree.
“Of course it is…” he smirks proudly, before squinting his eyes at you while you wash out the soap of your body, “And you know what? I bet you have one more there waiting for me,” he lifts his chin, like he’s challenging you, as water drips from his face and hair.  
Your eyes widen for a second at the implications of said challenge, “I can’t.” You’re quick to shake your head. You have no idea how you’re managing to stand there, since every little muscle of your body is sore.
“Actually, I bet you have one more there waiting for you… Wanna see?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Shit, Bucky, I don’t think I can handle you one more time,” you reply, honestly. As tempting as the idea sounds, you can’t even think about taking him again.
“Don’t worry… I won’t be doing anything.” His voice lowers a tone, as he walks you back towards the shower seat Eddie was so adamant in adding to the bathroom.
Looking down, you’re not surprised at all to see his cock already hardening and you would be lying to yourself if you don’t feel a little tingle in your belly.  As soon as you’re seated, he props his metal arm on the wall above your head and wraps his flesh hand on his cock, which is inches from you, bumping it a few times till it’s quickly fully hard.
“Tonight was an interesting experience for me, too,” his voice, laced with silk and mischief, props your gaze to lift to his. As he stares down at you and his hand jerks on his cock, locks of wet hair fall on his face and droplets run down his naked body.
It’s only instinct when your tongue darts out to lick your lips. You can’t believe you’re already getting turned on after everything you’ve already done, “Yeah, how so?” You encourage him in whatever treat he has planned for you.
“Hmmm,” his eyes flutter shut for a second as he swipes his thumb over the rosy tip, keeping a slow pace on himself, “Getting to know your body even more… the little places I touch and your whole body trembles, yeah… open up for me, that’s it, that damn pussy of yours,” he coos when you prop one heel over the bench beside you, letting the other on the floor and allowing your fingers to dance over your breasts and skim down your wet body.
“What else…ha,” you gasp when your exploring fingers reach your clit. It’s still sensitive from the previous actions, but it doesn’t reject your touch as the water from the shower mixes up with your natural wetness. It’s not hard to feel your arousal rising again in your body, not when you have that obscene sight of him touching himself inches from you and that dirty mouth saying all the things he likes about having sex with you. Your body responds to the sensuous scenario instantly.   
“I lose my mind at how that pussy squeezes my cock when I talk dirty to you…  These fucking tits of yours,” he groans and you can see his cock twitching.
Your hand on yourself speeds up in rhythm with his, but it remains a light touch on your clit, the kind of touch your body is asking for right now, but it feels good, so damn good, like a feather tickling the sensitive nub. Your eyes are stuck on his as much as his is stuck on yours. You feel like the sexiest woman alive under his gaze and fuck if you’re not gonna reach your 25th orgasm of the night soon. 
“I wanna have my cock between them one day, would you do that for me, beautiful, fuck my cock with your perfect tits?” He continues his verbal fucking, biting his lip till the blood rushes out of his skin, “Fucking you is an experience I can’t seem to get enough, sweetie, what about you, huh? Tell me what you like about fucking me.”
So many things… “I-I like your fucking big cock,” you say before letting out a small laugh, “Obviously,” you wiggle your eyebrows making him laugh briefly with you, before you look down at where he’s jerking himself. You have no idea how you’re managing to talk like that, you’ve never been that verbal when it comes to sex, but with him… it’s different. “It’s so damn thick…” You lick your lips, breathing hard as the feather touch in your clit sparks laces of pleasure inside you. Looking up at him, you see him clenching his teeth, hooded eyes still on you, “I like when you’re rough to me, when  you throw me around like I weigh nothing, you’re so fucking strong, ah.” Your head falls back as you’re almost there… “I like that you know exactly what gives me pleasure, even before I know it myself…”
“Fuck, you’re damn sexy���” he breathes out and you can tell he’s holding himself back, probably waiting for you to finish before he does, “What about that ass of mine, huh?” The playfulness comes back to his voice between harsh panting.
You chuckle, “I fucking love grabbing it while you’re pounding your dick inside me and… oh, God… that fucking filthy mouth… Especially when it’s all over me.” Your toes curl as the pressure inside your core tightens, driving yourself closer and closer to the edge, the words come out of your lips like they have a mind of their own, connected solely to your desire, “I love how you love eating me out, oh, goddamn, fuck…” Your eyes shut and your body shakes as you close your legs around your hand, reaching an orgasm for 25th time that night, this time by your own hand. And is just as good and powerful as the others he has given you.
“Shit,” his voice falters and as you still struggle to breathe you look up at him, “Can I come on those tits, sweetheart?” He nods towards your body, his voice coming out tight from between his teeth.
“Fuck yeah,” You nod, arching your back and exposing your breasts even more to him.  
“Holy shit,” he moans as, after a few more expert bumps, he spills his climax all over your chest, “Fuck,” he keeps his metal hand on the wall as he stares down apparently in a spell, admiring his handiwork, before grabbing your arm and making you stand, pulling you to him and grabbing your breathless lips in a kiss.  
Your chest is tight against his and the thought of the mess between you two makes you moan through his kiss. He’s the one who pulls back with that signature smugness all over his face.
Your eyes roll playfully, “Yeah, I know… You told me so…”
~~~
After you finish the shower for real this time, you’re drying yourself with a towel while Bucky, already with his black boxes on, uses one of your combs to work on his hair in front of the mirror in your bathroom. He huffs in frustration as the long locks don’t seem to stay in the style he’s looking for.
The sound of your quiet laugh makes him glance towards you. He smiles tightly and shrugs, a whole new sheepish expression on his face, “I’ve been meaning to cut it, but… I don’t know… other stuff keeps getting in the way,” he shrugs again, turning back to the mirror.
“I like it that way, it suits you pretty well, but if you’d liked I could cut it for you?” you offer, lacing your towel with a knot around your body.
“Really?” He tilts his head while something like amused skepticism etches on his face.
“Yeah, sure, I have all the tools here now if that’s something you want.”
He looks at himself in the mirror, taking a good look at his locks before turning back to you, “Let’s do this.”
Next thing you know you have Bucky still only in his boxes sitting on a chair he carried to your bathroom while you’re on an old t-shirt, displaying the set of shears, combs and trimmer over the countertop.
Wrapping a towel around his shoulders, you look at his reflection on the mirror, “So, are we just cutting the ends or are you going overboard here?”
“Overboard,” he answers right away and you smile at the trust he lays on you, “But leave something to grab. You all seem to love that.” The corner of his lips twists.
You laugh, reaching for the shear, “We all love it indeed,” you agree and run your hands over his locks, analyzing what you’re dealing with, “Trust me, I know exactly what to do.” You wink at him through the mirror and get on to work.
“Haircuts, huh?” he asks as the little strands of hair fall over the towel and the floor, “Quite an arsenal you have here.” He nods at your tools in front of him.
“Yeah,” you don’t move the focus from your working hands to answer, “I used to cut Eddie’s. We’ve been on a low budget for years so we could buy this place.” You give him a brief tight-lip glance.
“Very nice place, by the way.”
“It is, isn’t it?” You beam at him before focusing back on his hair, “But it’s a bit strange, actually. When we found it and moved in, I thought I would spend the rest of my life here with him… And now…” you sigh.
“Now we’re ruining your furniture,” he beams when you look at him.
You can’t help chuckle and agree, “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Are you keeping it?”
Your lips tightens as you look down at your working hands… You haven’t really thought of it straight and you’re sure that not thinking about it means you still had some hope to resume your life from where it had stopped when Eddie broke up with you. But, now that you’re talking about it, the answer feels right when it rolls off your tongue, “I want to. I love this place…with my promotion and the money that comes with it, I think I could make it happen, but… I still need to work things out with Eddie, though.”
“You haven’t talked to him yet.” Bucky affirms rather than ask. All along, even when you’re not looking at him at times, you can feel Bucky’s gaze not leaving your reflection in the mirror as his hair goes through a transformation by your hands.
 “No.” You shake your head and decide to share with him an idea that has been wandering in your mind lately, “Stark mentioned a party to celebrate my promotion-“
“Of course…” He adds.
“Yeah…” You laugh, before clearing your throat, “I was thinking about calling Eddie, letting him know I was promoted… I mean… we went to collage together and went through our careers together…” You look back at him through the mirror, “I think he’ll be happy to know from me and maybe even go to the party to celebrate. Also, we’ll be working a lot with each other again since he’s the leader of Shield’s team.”
“Were you still together when he got his promotion?” He asks, genuine interest in his voice.
You shake your head no, “It was right after he broke up with me.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”
“I don’t know, actually, “ you answer, going back on working with the shears, finding a bit funny how he’s been fucking you senseless and exploring every little inch of your body these last few days and still is careful in asking a personal question, “I noticed he was distant a few weeks before, but I brushed it off.” You shrug, “We’d been together for so long and we had our ups and downs… I just thought we were going through one of our downs. And then he woke up one day and said he didn’t want to be together anymore… Natasha thinks he has someone else,” you say, with a small and humorless laugh as you turn on the blow drier and positions it over his hair.
He tightens his lips through the reflection. Yeah… he thinks the same. 
You’re glad for the sound of the drier as silence settles between you two. It’s not awkward or anything like that… you’re just glad for the silence so you can evaluate how the possibility of Eddie having someone affects you. It’s fucked up to admit even to yourself, but it sucks. It’s not like you’re crying alone right now, but it’s different. There’s nothing romantic with Bucky and, honestly, you feel like shit picturing Eddie, your boyfriend of ten years, in a relationship with someone else.   
“Did he call you to let you know once he was promoted?” Bucky asks as soon as you turn off the drier.
“He didn’t. I sent him a text when I found out, he didn’t answer,” You bite your cheek, as your shoulders drop and you slowly comb his hair.
“It sucks, huh?” He twists his lips as you meet his eyes through the mirror. They’re full of kindness and understanding, and you’re glad he doesn’t make you feel more embarrassed than you naturally are in sharing that with him. 
“We had just split, though… now it’s been months… things should be a little less weird… and voi lá.” Thankfully for your embarrassment, you finish his hair right then, an opportunity to change the subject.
He takes his eyes from you to his reflection on the mirror and you bite your lip waiting for his reaction, since it feels like it’s the first time he’s paying attention to himself ever since you started cutting his hair. Like he asked, you went overboard and cut it a lot shorter than before, letting a fluffy quaff on the top. As much as you loved the long locks, you think he looks more handsome than ever, like a movie star.
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“Oh, wow”, he lets out in a jovial voice, running his hand over his soft and shorter locks, “It’s awesome.”
“Really?” you smile, letting out a relief breath, “See?” You grab the fluffiness on top of his head and smirk, “Perfect to grab.”
He laughs, “I really like it, I don’t look homeless anymore. Thank you.” He nods.
“You’re welcome, but wait, there are still some final touches before we’re really finished.” You grab the trimmer, and turn it on to work on the outlines behind his neck.
“Alright, ma’am.” He promptly straightens up his posture as you go back to work, “So, is it important for you that he knows?”
He resumes from where you had stopped and doesn’t have to clarify who and what he’s talking about. “It’s important for me that he goes,” you admit with a sigh, turning off the trimmer and looking at him through the mirror. You run your hands once again through his soft and new hair, before grabbing a little brush, “It feels weird to not share this with him,” you mutter, using the tool to meticulously brush off the remains of hair on his neck and shoulders. 
“Ok, then you should call him, why not?” He shrugs, “It’s been ten years, you just don’t erase that.”
A small, but thankful, smile curls your lips. You could expect being scolded for admitting something like that. Not from Bucky, apparently. And his support is really significant at that moment, much more than any lecture one of your friends would give you about the troubles of calling an ex-boyfriend who broke up with you.
“But just so you know,” he continues, shutting his eyes for a second and letting out a long exhale, “It may be just me, but I don’t think a man who doesn’t like to eat pussy deserves any kind of consideration.”
You laugh, letting your head fall back, before shaking it in lighthearted disbelief.
Bucky smiles and, if the fact that he makes you laugh with his stupid jokes lights up a warm and mysterious sensation in his chest, he thinks nothing of it, concentrating only on the touch of your gentle fingers grazing the skin of his neck while you go back to cleaning the little hairs off him.
~~~
Next chapter (from Bucky’s pov) coming soon. 
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carmenlire · 4 years
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Strawberry Skies
written for BTS Aspec Week over on twitter!
read on ao3
This date is pretty damned perfect, if Yoongi says so himself.
It’s a sunny day, late autumn air crisp, and there’s no place he’d rather be right now.
Right now being at an open air market in a cozy Seoul neighborhood. There are dozens of stalls selling everything from cheese to ornaments to toys. When Taehyung had invited him here for their next date, Yoongi hadn’t hesitated to accept.
It’s comfortable in the way Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to pull Yoongi to whatever stall catches his eye and the conversation flows smoothly. They’ve only been together a few weeks but Yoongi’s never felt so good with someone else, so warm and comfortable and, frankly, not annoyed at extended amounts of quality time spent together.
Taehyung keeps him on his toes, though, all while making sure he’s not overwhelmed or tired out or just over it all.
And while he won’t ever say it out loud, at least not yet, Yoongi privately thinks that it might just be impossible to tell Taehyung no, that Yoongi would do anything with him if he just asked.
There’s just one tiny, teensy, very small problem that’s not really a problem at all but more of a conundrum.
“Hey, hyung, look at this,” his boyfriend’s voice brings Yoongi over from where he was looking at carved wooden animals to the stall next door where Taehyung’s eyeing a cupcake.
As he nears, Yoongi shivers a little and pulls his coat closer to him. They’ve been here an hour or so and the temperature is dropping. It’s still sunny and barely enough to notice but Yoongi, who hates the cold, can definitely feel the difference. Crowding closer to Taehyung under the guise of looking at the cupcakes too, their hands knock into each other. Yoongi’s heart beats a little faster, even at so small a gesture, and he wants.
He wants to hold Taehyung’s hand.
But he’s nervous. Everything is still so new and Yoongi has been told a time or two in the past that he can be too clingy, that once he’s comfortable with someone, he’s too comfortable and he doesn’t want to freak his new boyfriend out by holding hands when he clearly doesn’t feel the same need.
See Yoongi’s predicament.
They haven’t done much of anything yet. Really, Yoongi wonders if they don’t look like just friends when they’re out on dates for there’s no kissing, no holding close, no hand-holding or footsie under the table or anything really to give away that Yoongi likes Taehyung so much he feels like vibrating sometimes when he’s on the receiving end of that boxy grin, like he’s won something infinitely precious whenever Taehyung laughs at something he says or looks at him with wide eyes like he’s seeing everything Yoongi tries so hard to hide.
It’s a lot. Taehyung’s a lot but Yoongi kinda feels like a sunflower opening up under that intense stare and warm smile.
The two of them don’t say anything for a moment, just look over the display of baked goods before Taehyung shifts and Yoongi freezes when an arm drops over his shoulders, shivers-- though definitely not from the cold-- when he feels Taehyung speak low into his ear.
“What do you think, hyung? Salted caramel or blueberry lemon?”
It takes a minute for the words to register, Yoongi far too aware of how close his boyfriend is. He feels small tucked into Taehyung like this and apparently his boyfriend is a heater masquerading as a human person because he’s so warm that Yoongi feels himself starting to thaw almost immediately.
Debating, Yoongi stares at the two cupcakes before shrugging and turning to look at Taehyung. When he turns, Yoongi realizes just how close the two of them are and he’s breathless for a whole new reason. Taehyung doesn’t look affected though, just looks at him expectantly with a wide smile and patient eyes, waiting for him to make a decision, and Yoongi is in definite like.
A little flustered, Yoongi manages to whisper, “Salted caramel.” Taehyung’s grin widens.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he exclaims and turns toward the cashier to order.
Yoongi zones out a little, still leeching Taehyung’s body heat, but he startles when Taehyung holds out a steaming cup. “I ordered a hot chocolate too. Want to share?”
Smiling, Yoongi accepts the drink. Humming a little, he brings the cup up to his face and breathes in, warm chocolate making everything seem that much cozier. When he looks up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, he sees Taehyung watching him with a fond smile, something quieter than his usual. “Thanks, Tae-ah.”
“No problem, hyung. You looked a little cold anyway.”
Before Yoongi can reply, Taehyung is turning to the next stall. Yoongi takes a sip of the hot chocolate and almost chokes on it when he feels Taehyung’s hand take hold of his.
Just like that. Casual, without thought, Taehyung reaches for Yoongi with the hand not holding the cupcake and slides their palms together, intertwining their fingers.
It’s such a simple gesture but Yoongi loves it. It’s the way Taehyung keeps him close, a point of contact when the crowd gets a little busier, and his hand is so warm, so inviting.
Handholding is one of his favorite things and he hates that it’s so underrated. It’s intimate without being too much-- Yoongi’s not one for public displays but he’d happily hold Taehyung’s hand for the rest of the day.
Yoongi hopes Taehyung is ready for that.
Still, as they trade sips of hot chocolate and bites of cupcake, Yoongi marvels at Taehyung’s confident approach. His grip isn’t tight, Yoongi more than capable of letting go if he wanted, but he's starting to think Taehyung might be more hands-on than he’d thought at the beginning. In the way he’d unselfconsciously pulled Yoongi close, the seamless way he’d reached out for him, Taehyung seems very comfortable with the kind of clinginess that had made Yoongi’s other partners wary in the past.
Yoongi can only hope.
As afternoon fades into early evening and Yoongi’s feet start hurting, he curls a little tighter into Taehyung whenever they stop at a stall, holding his hand all the while. Yoongi doesn’t let go.
Taehyung doesn’t either.
--
Taehyung is so tired he could cry.
His train had been delayed for hours and it’s finally pulling into Seoul, well after dark and it might even be past midnight but he doesn’t even want to check the time.
He’d gone home to visit his family back in Daegu for a couple of weeks but he’d been antsy to return to the city. His family had noticed his eagerness and had teased him mercilessly, asking him what could be so important that he kept his phone on him at all times when usually, Taehyung was content enough to leave his cell in his room and forget about it until he went to bed at night.
When Taehyung unexpectedly blushed at his family’s gentle ribbing, he’d been almost as surprised as them. Because while he has the habit for falling for people for split seconds or a heavy moment, he’s never been so into someone like he is with Yoongi.
His dad had latched onto the name and with a raised brow, asked his son if things were serious, if he could see things becoming serious.
At that, Taehyung had felt his cheeks warm even more, if that was possible. He’s only been dating Yoongi for a couple of months but he’s so deep in like that he can already see it tipping over into something else, something more.
Which brings him back to now when he’s finally back in Seoul, hours after he’d told Yoongi he’d arrive. Yoongi was going to pick him up at the train station but Taehyung had texted him when he’d realized that the minor delay had become a dead end stop, letting his boyfriend know that it was hard to tell when he’d be back, that hyung you don’t need to pick me up, I’ll just see you on Wednesday for our usual movie night, no really it’s fine, I don’t want you to stick around a freezing train station just waiting for me for who knows how long.
The two of them had texted for a while, bickering lightly back and forth about everything from Yoongi insisting that it wasn’t a problem, he could just camp out at a coffee shop nearby, to debating how penguins pick the perfect pebble to give to their mates.
That was until Taehyung’s phone had died and had officially cemented this as the worst day he’s had all month.
He has a meeting early in the morning and it will be at least another hour after they finally arrive at the station before Taehyung will be walking into his apartment. He’d been hoping to enjoy a few hours with his boyfriend after being away for a couple weeks-- it was a little embarrassing maybe, how much he’d missed Yoongi-- but no, Taehyung will be lucky if he stumbles back to his place and manages a few hours sleep before he has to face a hectic day full of meetings and a long shoot in the afternoon that will probably also drag on past midnight by the time all’s said and done.
Taehyung is so tired, not just because of today but how it will have a definite and potentially disastrous domino effect on tomorrow, and he just wants to curl up and rest and reset.
Hearing the automated voice announce that they’ve reached their final destination, Taehyung sighs, grabs his bag and picks up his trash. He exits the train, following everyone else out in a zombie queue of fatigue and bitter resignation.
Tossing his trash in the nearest garbage can, Taehyung’s just debating whether to call a cab or take the bus to his place when a voice breaks through the din.
“Taehyung-ah?”
Startled, Taehyung looks up and stares dumbly at the person who’d called out. In the back of his mind, he officially puts one Min Yoongi on the list of most stubborn people he knows.
“Yoongi-hyung?”
His boyfriend smiles and while it starts as a hesitant, soft thing, it quickly moves to a full grin, visible gums and all. In his exhausted, drained haze, Taehyung’s breath catches at just how pretty Yoongi is and how lucky he is to be on the receiving end of such a look.
Before he can say anything though, Yoongi’s reaching for his bag and throwing it over his own shoulder, rushing out, “I know you said that I didn’t have to wait and I’m sorry if I overstepped and you want alone time but I didn’t think you’d want to have to mess with finding a ride home and--” Yoongi cuts off for a minute, seems to take a big uncertain breath before he softly trails off with, “and I missed you and wanted to see you, even if it’s only for a car ride home and you kind of look like death warmed over, no offense.”
Taehyung just stares at him, mouth slightly parted as he listens to the rambling explanation. There are butterflies erupting somewhere in him before he even fully takes in Yoongi’s words.
Before he quite knows what he’s doing, Taehyung steps closer to Yoongi and throws his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
The impact is solid and Taehyung hears Yoongi let out a little oof, then a thud as Taehyung’s duffel bag falls off Yoongi’s shoulder onto the ground.
Neither one pays any mind to it.
Yoongi is still for a moment and Taehyung’s brain has just started to come back online. He’s blearily wondering if he’d moved too fast-- for even though they’ve been dating for a couple of months, this is their first hug, the first time they’re so close together with hardly any space between them-- when Yoongi must get over the shock that is Taehyung, with his defenses down and his overwhelming need for physical affection, fairly launching himself at the object of said affections.
Yoongi slowly brings his arms up to wrap around Taehyung’s middle and they both melt into the touch, Yoongi’s squeezing just a little, just enough to bring them that much closer.
Sighing, Taehyung feels boneless as he buries his nose in Yoongi’s hair and just breathes.
He doesn’t feel like crying anymore, which is a definite plus, and even though he’s still exhausted and thinking about tomorrow, being surrounded by Yoongi tempers Taehyung’s edges in a way he hadn’t really been expecting.
Taehyung swings between exuberance and meditative, sometimes lightning quick. He enjoys both sides of himself but has found that touch is the best way to ground him or get him out of his head. Hugging is one of his favorite things in the world but there’s always a level of wariness when he approaches it with partners.
To most people, hugging is nothing special. To most partners, hugging is laughably casual while still carrying an undercurrent of tension.
Taehyung doesn’t feel that tension. He has often, however, felt pressure-- the pressure of knowing that hugging isn’t anywhere close to enough for a lot of people, the pressure of wondering when the right time is to tell his partner that hugging means quite a bit to him, that anything much beyond that is totally and completely out of the question.
As he holds Yoongi close, Taehyung marvels at how warm his hyung is, how solidly they fit together. Taehyung feels safe and comfortable, a little bit like a melting marshmallow, all gooey and warm and like he never wants to peel himself away from his boyfriend.
It’s hard to tell how long the two of them stay like that, just hugging in silence on a rapidly emptying train platform but Taehyung’s overwhelmingly content.
He can’t help but wonder, even in this blissful state, what will happen when Yoongi figures it out, when he asks for more and Taehyung has to shut him down. Their relationship is moving slowly, in measured little increments that’s vastly satisfying even if Taehyung’s worried what will happen when they reach the inexorable end.
To his relief, though, Yoongi also seems happy enough to wiggle closer and sigh into Taehyung’s neck. He doesn’t try anything else and Taehyung’s happy.
He really likes Yoongi and he likes what they’re building. And while there’s always apprehension during a new relationship, Taehyung finds himself wishing very much that Yoongi proves the exception to what he privately acknowledges is a bit of a dismal dating history.
Yoongi finally pulls back and he’s grinning softly at Taehyung. “Ready to go home and pass out?”
Groaning, Taehyung steps back and raising his arms above his head, stretching and trying to wake up a little bit. “God, yes.”
“Let’s go, then.” Yoongi grabs the bag again and hauls it over his shoulder, ignoring Taehyung’s protests.
As the two of them turn towards the parking lot outside, Yoongi reaches out without looking and snags Taehyung’s hand. Swinging their joined hands a little, Taehyung sees his boyfriend’s pleased smile and can’t help but echo it.
Less than an hour later, when Yoongi pulls up to Taehyung’s apartment building, his boyfriend is a perfect gentleman as he gets out to walk Taehyung to the door.
They exchange goodbyes, reminding each other of their weekly movie night plans, and Taehyung has just put his key into the lock when Yoongi clears his throat. “Wait.”
Turning around, Taehyung looks at him a little confused. Yoongi’s smile is shy and his cheeks are a little warm as he shuffles closer and pulls Taehyung into one last hug. He smells like coffee and the strawberry shampoo he favors and Taehyung closes his eyes as he leans into his boyfriend, glad that Yoongi is comfortable enough to ask for what he wants-- and very happy that they seem to be on the same wavelength, at least about this, at least so far.
Yoongi waits until Taehyung’s inside the building before he turns to leave and Taehyung’s last thought before he flings himself into his bed, finally, and falls into a dreamless sleep is that he’s even closer to falling off the edge of like than he’d thought.
--
Unlocking the door, Yoongi finally takes a deep breath, letting it back out in a deep sigh.
Today sucked.
If it wasn’t one thing it was another. He’d slept past his alarm, which never happens, and so he hadn’t had time for his morning coffee before he’d had to rush to a meeting with the new head of the creative department at his company.
They’d ripped his prospective title track to shreds-- something about it not fitting the girl group’s image, something else that included changing the comeback concept that had already been approved weeks ago, even though Yoongi had consulted with all of the members and they had been very enthusiastic about his ideas.
He has a bit of a reputation at the company. He’s been with them for almost a decade-- going back to his high school days when he’d hung around as an unpaid intern, all wide eyes and hungry for knowledge about an industry he was determined to make his mark in.
Yoongi’s worked hard to become one of the lead producers for the company. He knows his shit is good and it had been a very difficult pill to swallow, listening to a manager who was younger than him tell him that his music was uninspired and ill fitting when he’s been working with the group longer than the other man had even been in the industry.
Still, Yoongi had buried down his simmering resentment and listened to what his colleague had said, even going so far as to write down the man’s suggestions.
He’d then talked to the girls who had been outraged on his behalf and promised that they hadn’t said anything, which had gone a long way in smoothing Yoongi’s ruffled feathers. He respects creative differences and knows that he is but a background influence that ultimately answers to the artists he creates for. But he has known this group since their pre-debut days and had been stressed and a little annoyed if they had truly hated his idea but had just gone along with him anyway.
Knowing that was not the case, especially based on other things the girls had said about their new manager, Yoongi had gone back to his studio to see if inspiration would work its magic with a few tweaked ideas.
Never let it be said that Min Yoongi wasn’t willing to compromise.
But not before going to the head of the company for his monthly meeting. Thankfully, Hitman Bang had been in a good mood and the meeting had gone as it usually does-- mostly talking shit about others and bouncing ideas for next quarter comebacks.
Yoongi had brought up the new creative department manager, which had lead to a lengthy discussion and Yoongi had left the executive suite feeling his bad mood significantly tempered.
Until he’d decided to head to the coffee shop around the block to make up for his missed caffeine hit from his late start. He’d ordered his usual americano, with an extra shot, and had just been reaching for the front door when someone else had crashed through the entrance and Yoongi’s coffee-- without a single sip taken-- had landed all over his hoodie.
The man had been an asshole about it, too. Had barely offered a half-ass apology before he’d walked up to the line and had taken a call right there in the busy shop, talking far too loudly and aggressively and looking patently unconcerned with the looks everyone else was throwing him.
Yoongi had stood by the door for a moment, the heat of the coffee stinging his stomach a little and had closed his eyes while he carefully, slowly, counted to fifty.
Deciding not to risk another incident, he’d just looked down at his ruined clothes and walked out of the coffee shop, going back to his studio where he thankfully kept a change of clothes.
Alas, his concentration was shot and Yoongi, even though clean and dry in a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, couldn’t focus. He’d grabbed his phone, hoping Taehyung might’ve spammed him with cute pictures of dogs as he’s wont to do but nothing.
Yoongi slumps in his chair and even if he’s judging himself, that doesn’t stop him from opening his message thread with Taehyung.
The last text is from two days ago and Yoongi knows that’s not long, not long at all, but he’s having a shitty day and he could really use his boyfriend right now.
Taehyung’s busy, though, and Yoongi won’t bother him just because he’s feeling a little whiny and tired. Something about pulling overtime for a magazine fuck-up that had mandated Taehyung retake and re-edit an entire shoot with a very tight turnaround.
Yoongi thinks about sending an encouraging message, something that doesn’t require a response but might make Taehyung smile if he happens to glance at his phone for a minute, but Yoongi doesn’t want to seem clingy or distract his boyfriend from work.
Yoongi knows he himself can be a terror when working under a deadline and sympathizes.
So, he fucks around a little on his software but doesn’t make much progress. His stomach rumbles but he’s too tired to get up and do anything about it so he just sits in his chair instead like a sad lump of unmolded clay. Spends more time staring into space than getting any work done, but Yoongi perseveres, at least long enough so that he doesn’t feel guilty leaving too early.
It’s not like anyone around here keeps a regular schedule but there’s a piece of Yoongi that doesn't want his bad day to have too much power over him.
The days are short and night falls quicker now that it’s the shitty time of winter, after the holidays when everything is just gray and sad and dingy.
Huddling in his coat, Yoongi makes it back to his apartment with single-minded focus, so drained that he fumbles with his keys.
Yeah, today really sucked but at least he’s home now and doesn’t have to be a person until morning.
His apartment is dark and he quickly changes into pajamas-- an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants he’s had since his college days.
He’s just ready to put something on Netflix, something he’s already seen a few dozen times, and enter a fugue state until it’s time for bed, when his doorbell rings.
Standing in the middle of his living room, Yoongi stares at the door intently, wondering who the fuck it could be. He’s not in the mood for Hoseok or Jin, knows that Namjoon is away in L.A. for a few weeks working on a private project.
Wondering if his day is about to be capped by being bludgeoned to death, Yoongi swings the door open. Everything rights itself as he leans against the door and takes in his unexpected visitor.
Because there his boyfriend is, smiling even though he looks tired himself and holding a bag that smells suspiciously, deliciously, like fried chicken.
“Special delivery,” Taehyung says hopefully and waves the bag around a little.
Holding the door open wider so he can come in, Yoongi asks, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a deadline?”
Handing Yoongi the bag as he takes his shoes and coat off, Taehyung hums. “And I nailed it! Finished a few hours early and decided to surprise you with dinner and a quiet night in.”
At this, he turns toward Yoongi and takes him in, smiling softly. “It looks like we could both use it.”
Nodding numbly, Yoongi goes into the kitchen to set the bags down and then turns back to Taehyung. Not expecting that, Taehyung bumps right into him but Yoongi just pulls him closer and tucks his head under his boyfriend’s chin. Breathing deep, he lets himself be held and lets a lot of the tension that had kept his spine stiff and resolute finally melt away.
That leaves exhaustion though, and Yoongi is almost dizzy with it-- he hasn’t been sleeping well lately and this bad day has just exacerbated things.
He lifts his head up to thank his boyfriend for such a lovely, welcomed surprise just as Taehyung ducks down to presumably kiss his hair. Because Yoongi’s moved though, the two end up kissing each other right on the mouth.
It’s just a peck, closed-mouth and over in a flash but it sends warmth trickling through Yoongi’s nerves. They’ve been dating for a few months and while there have been hugs and handholding and kisses on cheeks and hair, this is their first kiss, really.
If Yoongi’s being honest, he’s been waiting for this. Really, he’s been waiting for Taehyung to get impatient with the glacial pace of their relationship and to address it but his boyfriend seems happy enough-- very happy indeed-- to follow his lead and to show his affection in the several ways they’ve established so far that are very okay and very much in demand.
He hears Taehyung gasp when their lips disconnect and there’s a moment where the two of them stare at each other, wide eyed and surprised. But then Yoongi’s heart melts as he sees Taehyung’s cheeks flush warm pink, as he sees that boxy grin take over his boyfriend’s face but this time with a flustered edge.
“Was that okay,” Yoongi whispers, tilting his head up so that he can make eye contact with Taehyung. It’s not always easy for him but Yoongi wants to be sure they’re on the same page, wants to make sure that they’re both enjoying where things are taking them.
“So okay,” Taehyung whispers back before lowering his head until Yoongi feels his breath on his lips. “Want to do it again?”
And all Yoongi can think to say is, “Yes, please,” and he closes his eyes as he feels Taehyung kiss him again, mouth warm and gentle. They move together slowly, taking their time, learning each other in this new way, so exciting even if there’s no particular heat behind it.
Yoongi loses himself in Taehyung, in being surrounded and held close and in the gentle way Taehyung wants him.
It’s not too much. Right now, it’s just enough.
Yoongi smiles into the kiss, soft and slow, and Taehyung mirrors him until they’re grinning so much that they can’t keep kissing. He giggles as Taehyung takes that as an opportunity to plant smacking kisses over his face, squeezing him close until they’re breathless.
Without thinking, Yoongi murmurs, “Love this.”
He doesn’t freeze but his mind stills for a split second as Taehyung hears him, as his boyfriend kisses his ear and replies, “Love this, too.”
The two of them finally break away and Yoongi clears his throat, flustered and very much happy, as he turns toward the chicken that’s probably a little cold by now.
A few minutes later, they’re settling on the couch, plates full as they share the middle cushion. Yoongi asks what Taehyung’s in the mood to watch but he’s vague, hands the decision right back into Yoongi’s court.
So Yoongi puts on some sort of space documentary that he’s seen before. It’s a little dry but interesting enough when one doesn’t have the focus for anything better.
His apartment is silent besides the narrator’s voice on the television. Outside it starts to sleet, icy rain hitting the windows at a good clip. The little noise breaks Yoongi’s attention, makes him look over to where Taehyung is taking a sip of his drink, eyes not leaving the television as he learns some mathematical theorem that goes over Yoongi’s head, no matter that this is the third time he’s watching this documentary.
The weather is dismal tonight and Yoongi quietly thinks about offering Taehyung the option to stay the night. That’s something else they haven’t done yet and Yoongi’s a little nervous to bring it up, now, when they’ve just shared their first kiss.
He wonders if Taehyung will take that as an invitation, if he’ll think that Yoongi-- now that he’s comfortable with one form of intimacy, if he’ll throw open the door to more.
Yoongi very much will not be opening that door.
But he’s not an asshole and a part of him thinks that maybe he should just get it over with. Tell his boyfriend that kisses are okay-- good, great, amazing-- but that’s all Yoongi will ever want.
He’s loathe to do that, especially right now, today. He’s had a shitty day and the thought of confronting Taehyung’s desires-- even facing his questions seems like too much right now.
Really, Yoongi just wants to stay like this, as close to Taehyung as he can get. No pressure for anything else.
Taehyung finishes eating first. He puts his empty plate on the coffee table and leans back into the couch, throwing an arm over Yoongi’s shoulders.
Smiling as he takes a bite of rice, Yoongi settles deeper into Taehyung’s side. He doesn’t realize the breath he’s let out until Taehyung breaks the little spell that’s fallen over them.
“How was your day?”
With a little laugh, Yoongi shakes his head. “Incredibly shitty,” he replies dryly.
Taehyung hums, thumb brushes over his shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” Yoongi finishes dinner, sets his plate next to Tae’s, and just as he starts to resettle, he reconsiders.
He hesitates for a moment, looking down as he thinks. When he looks up, his boyfriend is watching him with patient eyes, as though just waiting for Yoongi to make a decision.
So he does. They’ve long since established that Taehyung likes touch-- holding hands, hugs, the casual barely conscious gestures that are as easy to him as breathing.
Yoongi is a little more reticent. It often takes ages for him to warm up to someone but Taehyung makes him feel so warm and he wants him so much that he decides not to overthink things for once.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and very studiously avoids eye contact as he moves, shifting so that he’s curled into Taehyung’s side, throwing his legs over one of Taehyung’s. He reaches for the blanket he keeps on the back of his couch and settles it over them, smoothing it out just to draw out the moment.
Finally, he releases his breath and very carefully eases his head down until he’s resting on Taehyung’s shoulder.
He waits for Taehyung to say something, to move, but his boyfriend doesn’t do any of that. He just wraps his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder, lets it sweep down his back until his hand brushes his hip.
It’s nice. It’s beyond nice and just what Yoongi needs to end this hell of a day. He all but melts against Taehyung and he feels Taehyung’s smile as he kisses the top of his head.
They watch the rest of the documentary like that, cozy and wrapped around each other. Towards the end, Yoongi’s eyes start drifting closed and he brushes his nose over Taehyung’s chest, snuggling closer.
Taehyung huffs out a laugh but doesn’t say anything, just readjusts the blanket.
When the documentary is over, Yoongi’s barely conscious. He feels Taehyung shifting, though, like he’s getting up, and he wraps his arms around him tighter. “No,” he mumbles, voice muffled since he’s talking into Taehyung’s shirt.
Taehyung brushes a hand through Yoongi’s hair and Yoongi leans into the gesture, silently asking for more.
Taehyung obliges but quietly says, “I should probably get going, hyung. It’s getting late and the weather’s turned to shit. I want to make sure I catch the last bus home.”
“No,” Yoongi repeats. “Stay.”
Taehyung stills and in Yoongi’s sleepy brain, an inkling starts that maybe Taehyung doesn’t want to stay. He opens his mouth to back track, to make sure he doesn’t feel any pressure, but his boyfriend beats him to it.
“You want me to spend the night?”
His voice sounds a little vulnerable and that’s what makes Yoongi straighten, blanket dropping around him as he looks up and finally takes in his face.
Taehyung blinks but he’s biting his lip nervously.
Yoongi nods and reaches up, gently tugging Taehyung’s bottom lip from his teeth. He brushes his thumb over Tae’s cheek, watches him slowly blink.
“I want you to spend the night,” Yoongi says simply. “You’ve had a hard week and I don’t want you out in this kind of weather if I can help it. Plus, you’re better than a pillow,” he grins.
Taehyung grins too, quick and bright, before it dims a little and he’s staring at Yoongi with a look in his eye that’s a little too intense for so late at night. “Just to sleep?”
“Yeah?” It’s Yoongi’s turn to blink. “I haven’t slept more than three hours a night this month and I’m about to pass out. There’s no way we’re doing anything but sleeping. Are you not tired?”
His mind is a little fuzzy and he feels a little dumb but it’s almost midnight and he had been so close to sleep before Taehyung had started to leave. He just wants to get back to that point as quickly as possible. He really hopes Taehyung doesn’t want to put another movie on-- his couch is comfortable but his bed is even more so and he doesn’t want to actually fall asleep just to have to drag himself to bed later.
Taehyung watches him for an impenetrable moment before he’s smiling again and standing abruptly. Yoongi groans as he almost falls face first where Taehyung was just sitting and Tae laughs as he hauls Yoongi up too, tangled in the blanket.
“Time to sleep,” Taehyung says brightly and Yoongi groans again but doesn’t try to hide his smile as he lets the blanket fall to the floor.
Deciding to leave it until morning, he forgets about the blanket as he guides Taehyung down the hallway, towards his bedroom. He has an extra toothbrush and offers Taehyung some clothes to change into and they stumble through a night time routine that’s remarkably comfortable, for all it’s their first time.
Yoongi blames it on the fact that he’s too tired to give a shit and as soon as he’s done, he falls into bed. Taehyung joins him seconds later and without thinking, Yoongi’s scooting closer, shifting until he’s right back where he was on the couch.
He settles against Taehyung’s side, laying his head over his heart and sighing deep as he wraps an arm around Taehyung’s middle.
Taehyung, for his part, seems comfortable, relaxing into the sheets and tangling their legs together. One of his arms sweeps down Yoongi’s back and it feels so good-- Yoongi is quickly falling back asleep-- until his boyfriend’s hand lands on his hip.
Yoongi stiffens a little as Taehyung’s hand slides under his shirt to rest against the bare skin of his lower back.
Suddenly more awake, Yoongi’s unaccountably nervous. Only now does it occur to him what Taehyung might have meant when he asked if they’d just be sleeping and he feels a little stupid for not picking up the hint earlier.
Still, Taehyung’s breathing slow and deep-- he might even already be asleep-- and Yoongi knows that he doesn’t have anything to worry about, that at least for tonight he could shy away and talk to him tomorrow, lay all his cards out on the table and deal with the fallout then.
He’s so deep into his thoughts, wondering if that hand is innocent or if there’s deeper meaning lingering in the touch, when Taehyung suddenly stills.
He deliberately moves his hand an inch, moves his thumb over the sensitive skin of Yoongi’s back.
Yoongi shivers but holds his breath.
“This okay?” Taehyung whispers the question into his ear, kisses it for good measure.
Knowing all the ways this could blow up in his face, Yoongi pushes up to his elbows and makes out Taehyung’s face in the moonlight. His eyes are sleepy but there’s a focus there and it’s all on Yoongi.
He doesn’t answer right away, takes stock. The truth is, he has no problems with this-- as long as this is what it stays.
He likes being close to Taehyung, likes when his boyfriend pulls him closer, stakes a claim even.
And Taehyung’s hand is warm, almost burning on his back, and it feels good, damned good.
Shaking his head a little, Yoongi eventually says, “It’s fine.” His voice is low as he tacks on, “No more, though.”
Part of him thinks that Taehyung might protest. Even if it’s late, even if neither of them had intentions, Yoongi’s been with people in the past who took one no as an always no-- and while it would be an always no from him, Yoongi didn’t want to deal with that headache tonight.
Thankfully, it looks like his momentary stress was unneeded. Taehyung just grins, sleepy at the edges, and pulls Yoongi down to kiss him. It’s firm but closed mouth and when he ends it a few seconds later, he gently guides Yoongi back to their previous position.
“No more,” he agrees easily enough.
It feels like Taehyung falls asleep the next minute, hand heavy on Yoongi’s back, breathing even.
Yoongi, for his part, knows that he’s not far behind.
Curling into Taehyung’s warmth, Yoongi sleeps better than he has in weeks. His last thought before passing out is that he’s so glad he met Taehyung, so happy that they’re here now, that he has someone who listens and cares and seems fine with going slowly.
Burying his face in Taehyung’s neck, Yoongi sighs, kisses his pulse, and falls asleep.
--
Without opening his eyes, Taehyung knows that it’s midmorning. The sun is bright against his eyelids and he shies away from it, buries his face in a messy mop of hair that smells like strawberries.
It’s only when the body attached to the messy hair wiggles a little that Taehyung wakes up enough to notice their position.
Now, Taehyung knows that he needs something to hold on to when he’s sleeping. In Jimin’s more colorful words, he’s a goddamn octopus-- and like the predator, will only squeeze you tighter if you try to escape.
It is what it is, as far as he’s concerned. However, things always get a little more complicated when he starts sleeping with someone new.
Yoongi-- so far at least-- is proving to be the exception to every rule Taehyung’s got.
They’ve been together for months at this point and Taehyung has taken to sleeping over at least once a week. Ever since that first time when he’d surprised Yoongi with dinner and had stayed late enough for his boyfriend to offer, it’s become a new little tradition of theirs.
Taehyung will come over for movie nights and almost always ends up spending the night. It’s a nice routine they’ve settled into, spicing it up occasionally with a weekend too, or a night at Taehyung’s, though that happens less often because he lives with Jimin.
It’s been weeks of them sleeping together and Taehyung loves it. He was uncertain that first night when Yoongi had asked him to stay. He’s taken dates up on that in the past, only for them to clearly have meant something by it.
That night, Taehyung was wiped out from fixing a screw-up with work and Yoongi had clearly had the day from hell but Taehyung’s always been a little amazed and repulsed at just how frequently people like to have sex, no matter their mood. He’d taken a chance on Yoongi, though, and it had paid off.
It was nice and easy getting ready for bed together and Yoongi’s thread count is definitely higher than his own because his hyung’s bed felt like a cloud and Taehyung had been sinking fast.
So fast, he’d been mostly asleep when he’d slipped a hand under his boyfriend’s shirt-- Taehyung likes skinship, especially when falling asleep with someone-- and hadn’t really noticed anything amiss until he’d realized Yoongi was stiff as a board on top of him.
He’d been so enjoying this new level of their relationship-- they kissed! Yoongi was comfortable enough to cuddle with him! They were sleeping in the same bed!-- but as soon as he’d realized, Taehyung had been stressed, even mostly asleep.
Wondering if Yoongi was going to take his hand as an invitation-- or perhaps they just weren’t ready yet-- he’d been very relieved when Yoongi had let the hand stay with a firm order of nothing else.
Taehyung was beyond happy to stick to Yoongi’s limits, especially considering his own would’ve been damn near identical.
When they’d woken up the next morning, Taehyung had been wrapped around Yoongi, which is not dissimilar to how they are now.
Yoongi makes a very good little spoon, curving back into Taehyung, limp and soft around the edges.
Taehyung has a leg over Yoongi’s hip, an arm slung low over his middle, fingers brushing over the bare skin of his stomach. His nose is in Yoongi’s hair, a little ticklish but too nice to make him move away.
This isn’t the first time Taehyung’s woken up like this, but each time there’s a tiny almost imperceptible but definitely present sliver of dread that spreads through him. There’s not an inch of space between them and Taehyung worries that it’s too much, too intimate or suggestive.
Every morning they wake up together, Taehyung wonders if this will be the time Yoongi wants more. They’ve been dating for almost five months but Yoongi has yet to even hint that he wants to have sex.
Most of his relationships have ended right around this time. When his partners realize that Taehyung isn’t a prude or just shy, when they finally understand that Taehyung means it when he says sex will not be happening and that time won’t change his mind, that nothing can change his mind on the matter.
Yoongi is such a gentleman, though. His grumpy hyung, Taehyung thinks sleepily with a grin. Yoongi never pushes Taehyung, never makes it feel like he’s just waiting for Taehyung to give the green light. He acts sincerely pleased and satisfied with what they do now. The cuddling is a wonderfully often thing these days, Yoongi soaking up affection like a sun-soaked kitten.
Then there’s the kissing. Things get a little heated sometimes but Yoongi never reaches for more, seems content enough to sit in Taehyung’s lap and hold him close and kiss him until he’s breathless.
Taehyung’s never waited so long to tell his partner that he’s ace but things are going so well with Yoongi. He doesn’t want to jinx it.
Which brings him to now. While Taehyung rarely likes to look a gift horse in the mouth, he’s well aware that many people wake up in a certain mood.
Thankfully, things have never been awkward with Yoongi but every morning, Taehyung wonders if this is it, if Yoongi will turn around and kiss Taehyung but keep going past his limits.
Granted, Yoongi doesn’t know his limits and would never play fast and loose with them if he did but it’s usually the kind of thing one learns in the heat of the moment, at least in Taehyung’s experience.
It’s starting to be a bit much, if Taehyung’s being honest. He’s getting tired of worrying about Yoongi’s reactions to things. He’s a perfect boyfriend-- grumpy yes but also soft and encouraging and attentive. He listens to Taehyung and surprises him with date ideas or little gifts that he says just remind him of Taehyung, always checks in when he knows Taehyung has something big going on.
He can talk to Yoongi about everything-- well most everything-- and his hyung makes him laugh and fills him with so much fondness that he knows it’s love at this point.
Not that he’s said anything, at least not yet, but Taehyung knows he’s rapidly reaching the point where he won’t be able to hold the words back-- not when Yoongi bowls a strike and does his funny little dance or when he’s cooking in Taehyung and Jimin’s tiny kitchen and trying to teach them too or when he’s working on song lyrics and looks so completely in his own little world that Taehyung’s left captivated by how pretty and talented his boyfriend is.
Taehyung’s so gone for Yoongi.
But every time he realizes that, he remembers that there’s a very important piece of himself that he hasn’t shared. He remembers that it affects their relationship, that it could bruise or even break it.
Taehyung doesn’t like to admit it but the prospect of Yoongi not being okay with things-- being so patient only under the guise that eventually everything would come to fruition-- makes Taehyung’s gut coil with dread.
Those thoughts and their implications are getting harder to ignore but whenever Yoongi starts wiggling around again, this time with purpose, it’s still so easy to put it on the back burner.
It’s hard to focus on tomorrow’s uncertainty when he has Yoongi in his arms, soft with sleep and smiling up at him with eyes narrowed against the sun.
“Morning,” Yoongi says softly, voice so low it’s almost indecipherable.
Humming a silly little tune, Taehyung leans down and kisses Yoongi. “Good morning, hyung.”
The two of them rest like that and Taehyung is almost positive Yoongi’s falling back asleep.
Taehyung doesn’t know how long they sleep like that, sheets warming under the morning sun until it’s almost too hot. He doesn’t move though, stuck in the sticky sweet feeling of being so close to Yoongi.
He’s learned a lot about Yoongi since they started dating. It took ages for Yoongi to become comfortable with him but Taehyung has patience to spare when it counts and watching his Suga-hyung-- as he’s taken to calling his boyfriend just to see him blush-- get to the point where he doesn’t hesitate to reach out, to ask for affection, makes Taehyung’s heart bloom with a combination of pride and fondness.
Yoongi curls up tighter into Taehyung. His breath is warm and slow against Taehyung’s neck and there’s no place he’d rather be, then right here.
They have plans to meet their friends later for dinner but until then, it’s just the two of them, wrapped around each other, enjoying the closeness.
This is Taehyung’s favorite kind of intimacy, when he’s so close to someone else that his own edges are blurred. He doesn’t need more than this, definitely doesn’t want anything else. For now, he rests with Yoongi and decides not to worry about expectations or confessions.
The quiet beckons when Yoongi’s the one he’s sharing it with. Taehyung wiggles down until they’re ’re face to face, ignoring his boyfriend grumbling about how he was already comfortable.
“Suga-hyung,” Taehyung whispers and Yoongi’s eyelids flutter even if he keeps them closed. His smile peaks out though, small and shy, and he ducks his head to keep Taehyung from seeing.
Yoongi’s too adorable, Taehyung thinks and he just knows his face is doing something stupid, his heart eyes out full force, his grin so wide his cheeks ache with the fondness of it all.
Shifting closer, he’s surprised when Yoongi’s the one who closes the last bit of distance between them. Eyes still closed, his lips find Taehyung’s and he sighs into the kiss, something soft and slow that makes Taehyung feel like melting chocolate.
They spend most of the morning like that, trading kisses between dozing and it’s Taehyung’s idea of perfection, his official favorite way to start the day.
--
Taehyung kisses like spun sugar with a molten edge and Yoongi can’t get enough. His boyfriend lets out these tiny little sounds, low whimpers, and Yoongi makes them his own.
Breaking apart for a split second to catch his breath, Yoongi dives back in. Taehyung’s hands sweep down, from resting against his throat all the way down to his hips and then he’s tugging Yoongi up, nudging him until he gets the hint.
Yoongi keeps kissing him as he’s half-lifted, half scrambles into his boyfriend’s lap. He’s so warm and Yoongi leans into it, just a little desperate.
It’s fun to lose himself in Taehyung-- in his hands, surrounded by his scent, lost in the way Taehyung keeps him close, then closer still.
They don’t do this often but sometimes Yoongi gets in a mood. Sometimes Taehyung looks at him and his gaze-- always intense-- burns straight through him. For Yoongi, this is one of his final doors unlocked and left open.
Taehyung walks through it like he’s done with all the rest-- tentatively, and then once it’s established that they’re both okay with the latest boundary line, with a shameless kind of enthusiasm.
Kissing is intimate for Yoongi and it had taken him a long time to realize that just because he liked it-- not just greeting pecks and chaste morning kisses-- but the way warmth flows throw him when he’s breathing someone else’s air, the slow sometimes desperate sweep of tongue, the bite-then-soothe rhythm that makes his mind all hazy at the edges, didn’t mean he had to like the rest.
In college, there had been enough drunken makeout sessions in corners of low lit living rooms or the dark edges of a bar’s dance floor for Yoongi to realize that he liked kissing well enough but enjoyed it far more when he knew the person, when there was an extra level of safety and fondness that just made everything that much better, that much easier to let himself go.
In college, he’d also learned that most people took Yoongi’s enjoyment for consent to everything else. He’d had more than one person call him a tease, tell him that he’d lead them on.
For most people, these kinds of kisses would only be a precursor to more but this, right here, is Yoongi’s happy place.
Taehyung’s hair is messy with the way Yoongi’s been running his hands through it. He holds Yoongi securely, close but not tight, and he hums into the kiss, wanting but not needy.
Taehyung hasn’t ever hinted for more-- never urged Yoongi past his comfort zone. There’s no desperate bucking of hips, no pulling and grinding, nothing but Taehyung’s mouth, warm and eager, and his hands wandering over Yoongi’s back.
Yoongi startles a little, though, as Taehyung’s hands smooth down to land on his ass, not groping or aggressive, just resting. He pulls back because this is new territory and even though Taehyung doesn’t seem especially eager for more, Yoongi needs to know what he’s thinking, if his wandering hands are trying to guide Yoongi into something else.
After all, they’ve been dating for almost six months and this is the most they’ve done. Yoongi knows by now that his boyfriend possesses the patience of a saint, that he’s guilelessly happy no matter what they’re doing, but Yoongi’s never made it this far into a relationship without The Talk happening.
He’s breathing a little fast and takes a few seconds to catch his breath, to settle. Taehyung lets him but can’t seem to resist a quick nip to his bottom lip before he noses along Yoongi’s jaw.
His hands are still on Yoongi’s ass, warm even through denim.
“Taehyungie,” Yoongi whispers, taking a deep breath and meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. “Your hands are on my butt,” he says plainly, part question.
Taehyung grins, pats his ass like he’s proud of himself. “You have a very cute butt, Yoongi-ah,” he replies seriously. His lips twitch into a smile he tries to tamp down.
Despite feeling his cheeks warm, Yoongi wraps his arms around Taehyung’s neck and leans in until their foreheads are touching. “Are you trying to get into my pants, Taehyung-ah?”
Watching the way Taehyung’s eyes widen, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at the panicked look that flares in his boyfriend’s eyes but he keeps his expression the same-- encouraging but carefully blank.
“What-- no, hyung, I promise I’m not trying to get into your pants! You’re just very pretty like this and I wasn’t lying when I said your butt is very cute and soft and I-- Well, I guess I just touched it without thinking,” Taehyung ends sheepishly before lifting his hands off Yoongi entirely and letting them rest in the space between them.
His head is bowed low now so Yoongi can’t read his face but he knows Taehyung. It’s been almost six months and his Taehyungie hasn’t ever been anything but honest with him.
Ignoring the brief stab of guilt that he can’t say the same right now, Yoongi just stares down at the top of Taehyung’s head and wonders where this puts them.
He doesn’t have any particular problems with Taehyung’s hands on his ass. It was just the implication that this could be leading to more that had made Yoongi pause and reconsider. But if this is what it stays-- just kissing and affectionate little touches-- he’s more than okay with that.
Biting his lip a little as he thinks, Yoongi finally clears his throat and offers, “You can put your hands back.”
Looking up, Taehyung studies his face with a combination of wariness and pleasant surprise. “Are you sure,” he asks. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I want to make sure you know that I’m not expecting anything else. This is fine-- great, perfect-- and I am more than okay with how things are right now.”
Smiling at how his boyfriend is always so eager to make sure they’re both comfortable, Yoongi feels his blush deepen as he reaches for Taehyung’s hands and brings them around until they’re firmly planted on his ass.
“I’m sure,” he says with a grin. He tilts Taehyung’s chin up and like this, straddling him, Yoongi’s taller. “As long as you’re really okay that this is all we do.”
His voice drops a little and there’s a shiver of smugness as he sees the way his boyfriend’s eyes darken at his tone. “I really like kissing you, Taehyung-ah. Want to keep doing that for awhile, if that’s okay with you.”
Taehyung swallows, eyes dropping to Yoongi’s lips. He seems almost dazed as he replies, “That’s fine, hyung. More than fine. Love kissing you, my sweet Suga-hyung,” in a low tone, eyes shining in a mix of anticipation and delight.
Yoongi’s still smiling when he lowers until he’s sitting in Taehyung’s lap, hands clasped behind his neck as he plays with hair at Taehyung’s nape, long and a little grown out.
Humming into the kiss, Taehyung relaxes and things pick back up where they left off.
There’s just something about Taehyung that makes Yoongi’s defenses shatter, almost on their own. He still worries about Taehyung’s reaction-- has talked to Namjoon and Jin and Hobi enough that they’re probably sick of him-- but when they’re like this, just the two of them sharing the same breath, Yoongi really can’t imagine anything changing.
He knows that’s probably naive, that there’s no way he could be lucky enough to find someone so completely okay with never having sex, someone who could find the same ease and contentment in simple kissing but he thinks Taehyung has to come pretty close.
Losing track of time, Yoongi and Taehyung don’t come up for air until the shadows grow long over his apartment, until the sun’s almost completely set and he feels warm and gooey at the edges, just a little sleepy, like Taehyung had poured his warmth into him until he was overflowing.
His mouth feels a little numb, swollen and throbbing lightly and when he pulls back a scant inch, Taehyung’s eyes are dark and Yoongi almost loses himself in the way his boyfriend watches him, not seeming to miss a thing.
But then Taehyung grins and it’s wide and open and desperately satisfied. He leans in until his nose brushes Yoongi’s and Yoongi’s own smile deepens until he can barely see and he just knows his gums are showing.
“Cutie,” Taehyung whispers and it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to Yoongi.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just looks up at Taehyung. He knows there are stars in his eyes and in this moment, it slides home, everything that Taehyung makes him feel.
They fit together in a way Yoongi’s never really had, especially not with a partner. He makes Yoongi laugh, makes him feel safe and like there’s no place he’d rather be than right at his side.
Yoongi suddenly knows that this is it, this is love. He’s in love with Taehyung and the realization isn’t a dousing of cold water but more like sinking into a warm bath.
On its heels, though, is the apprehension of wondering what his boyfriend will say when he finally comes clean. His smile doesn’t falter and he still hugs Taehyung close for long minutes after the kissing is over, when they’re catching their breath and letting things simmer back down to simply enjoying each other’s closeness.
Still, Yoongi’s brain flies startling quick in the background, knowing that he has to tell Taehyung soon that he’s ace and that being okay with kissing for now has to mean being okay with kissing always.
Slowly, his heart slows to match Taehyung’s and he hums as Taehyung plays absently with his hair, as his other hand moves to rest against his back in a gesture that’s become almost expected.
Soon, Yoongi thinks. He’ll tell Taehyung soon and deal with whatever fallout emerges as best he can.
--
Taehyung turns off the water, reaches for a towel and absently wraps it around his waist.
He’d stayed the night at Yoongi’s again and the two of them have plans to spend the entire weekend together. The weather is supposed to be pleasant-- sunny and warm but not hot-- and they’re starting things off with brunch at home before Yoongi’s taking him to a tech expo.
Taehyung’s already made dinner reservations at a spot nearby, aims to surprise Yoongi with dinner on their patio. Afterwards, they’re going to an evening exhibition of a local art museum that Taehyung had bought tickets to months before.
It’s their six month anniversary and as he gets dressed, Taehyung finds himself smiling, something bright and happy at the way they’ve grown together the past half-year.
Things are so good with Yoongi. They’ve had a few disagreements-- when Yoongi brushed him off for a week because his mental health had made everything hard and exhausting and he hadn’t wanted to drag Taehyung down with him or when Taehyung had become uncharacteristically short with Yoongi for a few days, work riding him hard and his frustration and stress had plopped itself right in the middle of their relationship.
They talked, though, and those minor blips only served to make them stronger.
Still, it’s been six months and they haven’t talked about sex. Taehyung has a deep and abiding love for kissing and realizing that Yoongi felt the same, that this was something else they could enjoy together, had made Taehyung light up from the inside, all warm and fuzzy with the feelings Yoongi brings out in him.
At this point, Taehyung doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Six months is a long time to keep something like this under wraps and no matter how Jungkook and Jimin tell him that Yoongi is so gone for him that there’s no question, they’ll make it through this even better than before, Taehyung’s been burned in the past and it’s that lingering fear that keeps him in place now.
Yoongi never pressures him, never hints that he’s unsatisfied with things. They’ve reached a point where they’re almost too comfortable with each other.
Taehyung’s unselfconscious about nudity and Yoongi doesn’t mind when he leaves the shower, using his towel to rub at his hair instead of to cover his modesty. Yoongi, by contrast, is still shy and had only recently become comfortable enough to walk around shirtless when Taehyung’s around.
They’ve grown so much and Taehyung knows the little things about Yoongi that can both drive him crazy and make him feel like he’s going to explode in a mess of fondness and love. He knows how his boyfriend takes his tea, what his go-to candle scent is, the most effective ways to get him out of his head when he’s on the edge of drowning.
And Yoongi knows him, too. He knows that Taehyung doesn’t like coffee but has an unabashed weakness for smoothies. He knows when to dig in his heels about something and when to let Taehyung come to him. Yoongi sometimes surprises him with how observant he is, even when it seems like he wasn’t paying attention to something to begin with.
All of which bring Taehyung to now. Taehyung keeps a few things over at Yoongi’s now and he takes his time getting ready, the strong smell of coffee and vanilla letting him know that Yoongi’s well underway in cooking breakfast.
Makeup done, just enough to define his eyes and make his complexion flawless, Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and heads toward the hallway that will open up into the living room and kitchen.
The thoughts about finally telling Yoongi have been weighing heavier in his mind and when he sees his boyfriend, cracking eggs into a large glass bowl in between sips of coffee, Taehyung’s mind blanks at the perfect picture in front of him.
He blames that for the way his mouth just acts on its own.
“Is anything missing with us, hyung?”
Yoongi looks up from the eggs and frowns as he meets Taehyung’s gaze. “No?”
While Taehyung’s internal yelling at himself for broaching the subject today of all days when things are going so well and it’s supposed to be a calm, no-stress weekend, he just repeats, “No?” His voice is tight with suspicion. He supposes that now that he’s started, he might as well just finish things.
Yoongi squints at him. “No. Do you think anything is lacking between us?”
Taken aback, Taehyung just blinks. “Of course not.”
Yoongi looks like he wants to say something-- eyes flicking to the side, avoiding his gaze-- but he doesn’t. “Okay.”
And apparently Taehyung’s brain has just lost all sense because he doesn’t leave well enough alone. Yoongi seems uneasy and Taehyung doesn’t want him to feel bad even if he can’t give him what he wants.
Deciding to just go for it, Taehyung takes a deep breath. “Do you want to have sex,” he asks bluntly.
Yoongi, who had been taking a drink from his coffee, chokes. Taehyung rushes over and pats him on the back, maybe a little too hard in his panicked zeal and Yoongi winces, coughing a little.
Yoongi recovers from the brink of death a little too fast, if Taehyung is being completely honest because it’s just moments later that the kitchen is completely silent and waiting for an answer is becoming agonizing.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a long while and Taehyung’s nerves are crackling at what it must mean. His boyfriend must be trying to find a delicate way to let Taehyung know that he’s patient but he’s definitely waiting.
Now that he’s not coughing a lung out, Yoongi’s facade has shifted into something blank. Taehyung can’t get a read on him, which is concerning since he’s prided himself on learning his boyfriend over the past several months. Yoongi is never blank with him, not anymore.
Finally, Yoongi clears his throat. Instead of answering, though, he just flips the tables. “Do you want to have sex?”
And Taehyung’s brain is fried from the past four minutes so he just answers without thinking too much about it. “No,” he says, firm but with an undercurrent of nervousness.
Yoongi stills. Looks up until he’s looking right into Taehyung’s eyes. “No?”
His voice is soft, aching with uncertainty, and Taehyung suddenly feels so, so bad that Yoongi must think that he’s not into him or something else equally as wrong and off the mark.
It takes more courage than Taehyung thought he had, to maintain eye contact and to finally say what’s been hiding on his tongue all along. “Yoongi-hyung, I love you but I don’t want to have sex with you. I’ll never want to have sex with you.”
Taehyung expects Yoongi to look shocked, maybe a little offended.
Yoongi proves him right on the first count, eyes going wide as he stares at Taehyung like he doesn’t know him. However, instead of going on the defensive, it’s like all of Yoongi’s strings have been cut and he fairly collapses into Taehyung, burying his face in Tae’s sweater.
“Oh, thank God.” His voice is muffled but Taehyung hears him perfectly clearly nonetheless.
Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to be confused. Before he can do much more than open his mouth, though, Yoongi’s straightening and looking up at him with a smile that takes over his whole face.
“Taehyung-ah,” he says slowly, making sure that Taehyung’s paying attention. “I have something to tell you.”
Rubbing an arm up and down Yoongi’s back, Taehyung just nods at him encouragingly. “Go ahead, hyung. I’m listening.”
Taking a slow breath, Yoongi says, “I’m ace, Taehyung. I don’t want to have sex with you either.”
Taehyung blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes it. Parses through the handful of words that have just set his world off its axis for a split moment before it rights itself again and then suddenly he’s laughing.
It’s soft with a hysterical edge that neither mention. “Oh my God,” he says, voice shocked but the delight seeping through.
Suddenly, everything makes sense.
Yoongi holds him as Taehyung makes himself smaller, small enough to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck. He wonders if his boyfriend can feel his smile against his skin.
Running careful fingers through his hair, Yoongi kisses the shell of Taehyung’s ear. “We should’ve known,” he says wisely.
Sighing, Taehyung melts into Yoongi’s embrace. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Though I did think it was weird that I slept over so much and you never tried anything.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh. “You gave me a heart attack when you slid your hand under my shirt that first time. Not to mention when you grabbed my ass.”
Laugh loud in the quiet between them, Taehyung straightens so he can look at Yoongi fully. “I was so worried to tell you that I was ace. I thought it would ruin things, or at least bruise them for a little while.”
Yoongi sighs and this time there’s a sad edge to it. “I was worried too,” he confesses quietly. “Especially once so much time had passed. Thought you might think I was leading you on.”
Slowly, Taehyung shakes his head. “Never, hyung,” he whispers.
Smiling a little, Yoongi raises a little on his toes until he’s the same height as Taehyung and then he leans in and kisses Taehyung. It’s something delicate and full of wonder. “I’m glad we’ve finally got that cleared up,” he mumbles between them and Taehyung just hums in response.
The waffles are definitely cold by now and the eggs are forgotten as Taehyung kisses Yoongi in the kitchen.
The sun is bright and a weight he hadn’t even known was so heavy is lifted away from him, makes him feel free and invincible and like all is right in the world-- in his own little world with Yoongi.
Thinking about the morning’s developments, he laughs a little into their kiss and Yoongi starts smiling until it’s hard to kiss at all.
In hindsight, there were probably so many signs that he and Yoongi had always been on the right wavelength, even if they’d been too stuck in their heads to see it.
Pulling back a little, Taehyung rubs their noses together just to see Yoongi’s face scrunch, cute and reluctantly endeared.
“What are your limits, Yoongi-hyung?” He asks, curious and not wanting to run into any more misunderstandings.
Yoongi shrugs. “We’ve pretty much hit them all,” he says with an open expression. “I love kissing and don’t mind if it gets a little messy but I’ll never want anything more-- anything below the belt. What about you?”
Humming a little, Taehyung slowly waltzes them out of the kitchen and into the living room. “I’ve gone further and haven’t hated it but I’d prefer not to do anything that involves removing underwear. I love kissing, though, especially when it’s you. I like holding you, like feeling you on top of me,” he admits softly and smiles as he sees pink sweep over his Suga-hyung’s cheeks.
He moves them until they’re falling onto the couch in a mess of limbs. Yoongi’s looking up at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky just for them and Taehyung soaks up the wide-eyed look like he’s bottling sunshine.
Yoongi sighs a little, rests his head against Taehyung’s cheeks.
Taehyung enjoys the quiet. He settles into the knowledge that nothing has to change, that everything can stay just as perfect as it’s been. While he knows there will be disagreements in the future, he can rest easy knowing now that sex will never be a reason why.
He doesn’t realize just how close he is to falling asleep with Yoongi as a warm weight in his arms, until his boyfriend suddenly straightens.
“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says softly, carding his fingers through his hair.
Looking up, Taehyung sees Yoongi watching him with the softest look. “What is it, hyung?”
Silent for a minute, Yoongi finally just smiles. He ducks close for a quick kiss and when he pulls back, he’s grinning. “I love you.”
Eyes going wide, Taehyung repeats the words in his head a few hundred times in the space it takes Yoongi to blink innocently.
Taehyung feels struck dumb, hearing the words making him so happy he can hardly bear it, and Yoongi just takes it in stride.
“Earlier you said that you loved me but you didn’t want to have sex with me. I figured I shouldn’t leave you hanging,” Yoongi says casually.
And Taehyung hadn’t even realized that he’d confessed, not when his heart had been going a mile a minute at the prospect of telling Yoongi his biggest secret that wasn’t ever supposed to be a secret, not really at least. A secret of omission, he supposes absently.
“You love me,” he finally asks, too vulnerable. He’s not surprised, not really, it had just been a shock to hear the words-- because while Yoongi doesn’t hide once he’s comfortable, he still keeps words close to his chest like they’re infinitely valuable jewels that must be looked after with care.
Yoongi’s love is in the way he cares for others, the way he cares for Taehyung. To hear the words makes Taehyung’s heart settle into something that feels a lot like home.
“I love you,” Yoongi says again, just as light but twice as serious.
Taehyung grins and pulls Yoongi close in a hug that squeezes his ribs. “I love you too, hyung. My grumpy sweet, kitten hyung.”
Yoongi’s rolling his eyes when Taehyung releases him and the two just watch each other for a few minutes. Taehyung’s lost in his boyfriend’s eyes, so clear and deep and showing everything he feels.
The past six months have gone by in the blink of an eye, Yoongi settling into his life so quietly, so completely, that Taehyung is still realizing how connected they’ve become.
Taehyung feels good, so good, knowing that they’re on the same page where it counts, that they’re both comfortable and safe and loved.
Yoongi kisses his shoulder, nosing along it like a kitten looking for love, and Taehyung does his best to make sure he always feels the force of it.
They lose track of time, and most of breakfast is unsalvageable by the time they remember.
They clean up the kitchen-- it taking twice as long as it should since they stop so often for quick pecks and not-so-quick kisses that make Taehyung’s smile dopey at the corners-- and they end up just stopping by a coffee shop on the way to the expo.
And Taehyung listens as Yoongi goes on for long minutes at every stall they pass, talking about how cool the technology is or what he could do with such equipment or what he’s hoping to see next year.
And hours later, when it’s his turn to show Yoongi around the museum, losing himself in talking about technique and little trivia facts about the artists, Taehyung comes back to himself just to see Yoongi staring up at him with wide eyes, completely attentive and so fond that it makes Taehyung’s heart ache in sympathy.
They end the day wrapped together and Taehyung falls asleep close enough to feel Yoongi’s heart beat, feeling his own echo in tandem.
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Text
A Rose In Harlem
OC x Erik story
Based on Teyana Taylor's VII & KTSE
Warnings: Cursing. Slight panic attack! More slow burn. That's it.
Chapter VII: Expectations Vs. Reality
January, 2014
Syd's POV
Should I ignore it? I'm looking at the phone then looking at Erik, Erik is wondering if I'm going to answer it too. Shit! Perfect Timing,Yasin!
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
"Dios mío!" I spit out in utter frustration! Erik and I were so close to kissing and my body is still coming down from that temporary high and now everything in the universe is coming to interrupt it. Erik walks up behind me with that same look he had in his eyes before our moment was ruined, "You don't have to answer either, you know that right?" His hands found their way around my waist as he took my scent in, once again; I couldn't move. He moved some of my hair out of the way and the lips I've yet to feel on mine, were on my collarbone making a trail up my neck. I started indulging in the moment and then
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
Damn it! I groaned and slipped away from his embrace. "I have to." I walked to the door facing him with a look of regret. I looked through the peep hole, it was Yasin. "Oh shit!" I feel myself starting to panic, I walked back to my living room and Erik sees me struggling to breathe. "Syd...Syeda! Calm down. Breathe. C'mon, breathe with me." I kept looking up and looking around, trying to count backwards from ten in my head, I can't believe I'm having a panic attack from having one crush in my house and the other one outside knocking on the door! Erik stands in front of me and put his hands on each of my arms, "Breathe with me. In--" I inhale sharply, "--Out" I slowly exhale, focusing on his words. "In! That's it..Out. There you go. One more time, In...C'mon Syd...Out." I let out the last breath with a tear coming out of my right eye. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I--" "You have anxiety. That's nothing to be sorry about baby." "I just don't do well with confrontation." I hate admitting that shit, but it's true. Just the thought of opening the door and Yasin seeing Erik in here had me thinking of the worst case scenario. Plus, the argument between Erik, Yani, and I was enough conflict for one day. Erik walks over to my kitchen and makes me a cup of water so I can cool down, "Here. Your face is red and you feel really hot. Who was at the door?" "Yasin." I say, gulping a few sips of water. Erik stands up and walks to the door, "That was him calling too?" I followed close behind him, "Yes. Look I don't want you two to--" Erik stops walking and I bump into him, which interrupted my call for peace. "I'm going back to Zig's. You let me know when you ready to stop straddling the fence." He walks out of my apartment, making sure he slams the door on his way out. I need a drink!
--
Erik's POV
I was this close! THIS CLOSE! Damn! Homeboy really keeps getting in between Syeda and I. "Zihlala ziphazamisekile!" "Nigga, what you just call me?" Zig comes out of his room with a confused look on his face. "Nigga. I ain't call you nothin'. That nigga that Syd's around showed up and we were about to kiss." Zig put his hand over his mouth in shock, "Yooooooo! You for real? Damn bruh. That must have been a hell of an apology." "Nah. Not really. I told her." Zig zips up his last suitcase, "You told her, and what she say?"  I shake my head, "Nothin' but I know she feels the same. She wouldn't have let me get that close to kissing her if she didn't." My cousin places his bags by the door as he was typing away on his phone, probably for an Uber to JFK. "So why you here?" "Because, I don't want her to chose between me and another nigga. That's why. Am I wrong for that?" Zig looks me in my eye and says, "Nah, but it's wrong for you to assume that she's not gonna have any options if you're not gonna assert yourself." "I never said I didn't expect her to have options. She's beautiful. I just really thought that telling her would--" "Would what, cuzzo? Make her drop her options right then and there? She was too busy listening to what you had to say and in your face to do it!" I sigh, "You can do that all you want but expecting that is selfish. Especially since you still got Gina on a string. What happened with that today anyway?I almost forgot about Gina, "I mean, we had lunch. Talked a bit more about goals, past travels, a lil bit of fashion. After, I walked her back to the shoot and left. I didn't want to stay around after that fight with Syd." "And Yani. That girl is a beast." Zig cracks up at my despair "Nigga, understatement." We laugh together at Yani's intense attitude. "She called yo ass a ghost, my nigga." Zig leaned back in awe, "Damn! That girl cold. She know why I'm never home." "You should see what that's hittin' for cuh!" Zig vigorously shook his head. "Nigga nooooooo. Nope. She cussed me out for saying 'Good Morning, Beautiful'
February, 2013
Yani was rushing to Syd's apartment; Almost running into her neighbor preparing for his morning run. This was there first and only run in with each other. "Oh, I'm sorry mama." Yani rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you are, and that's not my name." "My apologies, again." She continued upstairs as he marveled at her figure, "Well you have a good morning, beautiful." Yani groaned and went off, "Nigga! My name ain't ma, mami, beautiful, sexy, none of that shit that you call those basic hoes off of the street! If you wanna know my name, ask. Other than that, FUCK OFF." Syd opened the door, she heard the commotion, "What's going on Yani?"
I'm cracking the fuck up, that sounds like her best friend's stuck up ass. "Yeah. Nah bro. I'm not about to end up on first forty-eight behind that broad." "I feel you. I feel you. You know I could just take you to the airport if you let me borrow the whip while you gone." I peer at my cousin, I'm tired of walking and Ubering everywhere. "Shit. As long as you gas her up and when I get back she has the same gas she did when I left, you good." Yes! "Bet." We're having a weird stare off until he breaks it, "Uh. I'm ready to go!" "Oh. You could've said somethin' dummy!" He heads out the door first, tossing me the keys before he closes the door behind him. I put on my shoes and coat and brace myself for the brick that is outside. I lock the door and I look over to Syd's door it has a yellow sticky note on it. I shake my head and say to myself, "Enye kwakhona?"
--
The next day
Syd's POV
I don't remember what time I ended up falling asleep, but I do remember waking up with a crook in my neck that hurt like hell. I didn't get my editing done, and I didn't expect to. I have my third out of four shoots today so I have to hurry up and rush through my morning routine so I can meet Myles at Garvey Park. I check my phone, I got a voicemail from Sin, from last night when I didn't answer the phone. "Hey Syeda, It's Sin. I was stopping by to drop you off some flowers as congratulations on your shoot. I was hoping we could talk since we haven't gotten to since Shad's party. Hit me up when you can, okay? Bye." I can't even focus on the voicemail because Erik's words keep ringing in my head "You let me know when you ready to stop straddling the fence." Damn. I look at the time 8:59AM I rush and grab my laptop to put it in the bag, my chargers, planner, phone, and purse. I swing my door open and immediately see a yellow post-it sticker on it. I grab it and make the five block hike to Garvey park. By the time I cross over the second block, Fredrick Douglass Blvd, I decided to open the post-it note I have crumbled in my hand.
510-770-2344; E's number.
I stop in my tracks, put the number down in my phone and throw the paper away in the can next to me.
--
Erik's POV
I wake up way later than usual this morning. I read the time on my phone.
9:10 AM
Message
G-Baby 2 min
E, shoot is at Marcus Garvey Park. We start at 10 if you can make it
Message
718-993-2309 5 min
Erik, It's Syeda. Hit me when you get up.
How did she...ZIGGY. I text Gina back to tell her I'll meet up with her for lunch again today and I decide to give Syd a call. Hopefully she came to her senses and decided what side of the fence to stay on. "Hello?" "Uh, hey. Syd? It's Erik." I clear my throat, I just realized I still have my deep morning tone. "Yeah, Hey. I was just hitting you to let you know that I finally booked a venue for my show." "Oh yeah?" "Mhm. Booked it a hour ago. 583 Park Avenue." "Damn ma, that's fancy as fuck. How you pull that?" I sit up rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "Ayana. Her PR colleague pulled some strings and helped me book it. I gotta eat ramen until my birthday, but I got it." I chuckle as I think to myself, "When is your birthday?" "Uh, it's next month. On the sixteenth." I lean back on the uncomfortable couch laughing again, "Ah. That's why we been bumpin' heads. My birthday is next month too, on the ninth." she laughs with me on the other end, "You're an Aquarius man? Oh God, you're crazy!" I scoff at her accusation, "You're an Aquarius too, so don't that make you crazy?" "No. No. The men give us the bad crazy stereotype!" "Let's agree to disagree Syd." she giggles and agrees, that shit sounds so sexy on the phone, I have to readjust my morning wood. "So...You thought about what I said last ni--" "SYD! I NEED YOUR HELP!" I hear her annoying ass best friend yell out for her and I roll my eyes. "E, I don't have a choice to make right now. I got a fashion show and visuals to put together in a month. That's my boyfriend right now. I'd appreciate it if you show up for me, as my friend." I huff at that word, friend. "Bet. I gotchu." silence fell between us, "I gotta go, it's almost call time. I'll hit you later?" "Yeah. That's cool, friend." She sucks her teeth at my sarcasm, "Bye, E."
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Translation - “Dios mío!” - Oh My God!
“ zihlala ziphazamisekile!” -   Always interrupted!
“Enye kwakhona?” - Another one(guy)?
🌹
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lifeflowingon · 3 years
Text
| QUICKSILVER | 8 |
• SUMMARY: After a student is gruesomely murdered on campus, Baek Haeju finds herself trying to extract information from the only person who might know the truth. But is secretive English major Min Yoongi just a witness? Or is he the culprit?
• WARNINGS: Death, murders, sex.
• WORDS: 3803.
"I need another reason, tell me to breathe
The dirtier the sound, the best I breathe
I tried to do it all for you , it didn't do anything for me."
I've Got Friends | Manchester Orchestra
She feels dirty. Although she's standing under the shower head and the water is hot and cleansing, she feels dirty.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.
Haeju closes her eyes and wraps her arms around herself, as if searching for protection. She feels Jungkook's hands all over her skin, she feels Jungkook's breath in her mouth, and she still feels him. Her purity ring is scorching her finger, a reminder of a promise she is slowly breaking.
How did it happen?
"I love you, Haeju," repeats Jungkook, his hands on her hips. Haeju doesn't know what to say but kisses him back, because she doesn't want him to suspect that she's already falling for Yoongi. Jungkook doesn't deserve this; he doesn't deserve this kind of deceit. Haeju is a floozy who has no control over her feelings, obviously, and Jungkook is just trying to look out for her.
They kiss, eager and needy, and somehow they ended in her bed, Jungkook sliding his hand under her shirt. His hands feel warm and Haeju moans with every daring move, with every little touch. Jungkook presses himself against her and Haeju opens her eyes when she feels that Jungkook is, well, ready for more.
"Jungkook, I..."
"Haeju, you're amazing," he says hoarsely, unbuttoning her shirt. Haeju just lies there, watching him undress her, watching him undress himself, and she's still not talking. He kisses her over and over again, mumbling sweet nothings into her ear. Her door is closed, but Chaerin is in the next room and the walls are not that thick. Haeju's brain is working fast, trying to understand the enormity of what is happening.
"I... you can ask me to stop," says Jungkook nervously. "Just say the word and I'll slow down, okay?"
Haeju feels terrified and uneasy, but she wants to show Jungkook that she loves him. She has loved him for years, hasn't she? And true love waits, right? And what is this if it isn't true love?
Jungkook is fast asleep on her bed, and here she is, taking a shower to erase him away. She wasn't ready for this, not at all. So, they didn't go all the way, but Jungkook touched her in ways nobody had ever touched her before. Haeju remembers the chills running down her spine when his fingers pushed inside of her, making her feel lightheaded. She touched him too, awkwardly and slowly, but Jungkook seemed to enjoy it.
Her head hurts, but the thing that bothers her the most is that her soul feels broken. And for some unexplainable reason, she feels like she cheated on Yoongi.
She finishes taking the shower and dresses quickly after she's done drying herself, not bothering with her hair. She walks back to her room and she sees Chaerin drinking a glass of milk in the living room, and Haeju blinks dazedly.
"Chaerin, it's late," whispers Haeju.
"You're happy, aren't you," says Chaerin pensively. "It was always me, the one who was happy. And now you have everything. Where did I go wrong, Haeju bear?"
Haeju walks over to the couch and sits next to Chaerin, hugging her close. Chaerin starts crying into Haeju's shoulder and they both hold to each other for a while. "I miss Chaeku," sniffles Chaerin. "I miss him so much."
"He's an idiot," says Haeju angrily. "He's a jerk for cheating on you. You deserve better."
Chaerin takes a deep breath and laughs nervously, sniffling again. "Haeju... don't ruin this thing with Jungkook. He's the one for you... don't ruin it."
Haeju hugs Chaerin again, her eyes wide open, and she's unable to speak.
xxxx
"You're really quiet today," says Yoongi, interrupting his scribbling to look at her.
"I'm tired," blushes Haeju, not looking at him in the eye. "You know, went to bed late and all."
"I had a great time last night," smiles Yoongi, and brushes the top of her hand with his finger. Haeju looks around, hoping that no one saw that, but her classmates are busy working on the assignment Miss Dawes handed out earlier.
"Me too," says Haeju, trying to reciprocate the smile. She is still thinking of Jungkook and how he kissed her before leaving her apartment, promising her to take her out on an actual date soon. Haeju can't help but think that there was guilt in Jungkook's face, and that maybe he regrets what happened. Hopefully not.
"I really appreciate what you did for Tae," says Yoongi somberly. "You stood up for him even though you haven't known him for that long. And you said that you want to get to know me better... so, I think that it's time to tell you about something I haven't been completely honest about."
Haeju sees Wesley glaring at them, and her cheeks feel hot. Is Yoongi finally going to talk about Yangmi? The secret society? She feels terrible because Yoongi is opening up to her and she keeps hiding information from him. She looks at her purity ring and shame takes over her emotions, but she can't let Yoongi see this.
"That sounds intriguing," smiles Haeju. "Looking forward to it."
"Good," grins Yoongi. "That's great. Can I ask you something? Would you ever consider getting a tattoo?"
"A ta-ta-ttoo?" mumbles Haeju. "I don't know. I don't think so."
Oh no, Yoongi wants her to get a tattoo, doesn't he? This definitely means that he is talking about the secret society. Is Yoongi going to ask her to join? This is way more than she bargained for, although she knows that Jungkook will be delighted about this.
"Maybe I will make you change your mind," winks Yoongi, and he goes back to his notes as Miss Dawes walks by. Baek... do you feel like taking a risk today?"
"You're asking a lot of weird questions," grins Haeju. "It depends."
"I'll be right back, class," says Miss Dawes, and she leaves the classroom.
"Let's get out of here," smirks Yoongi, grabbing his books from the desk and throwing them inside his backpack, and Haeju stares at him.
"Skip?" frowns Haeju.
"We already sat here for most of the class," shrugs Yoongi. "So... what do you say?"
Haeju feels a smile tug at the corner of her lips when she sees the mischief in Yoongi's eyes, and she nods as she starts collecting her things. The rest of the class is staring at them as they leave the classroom, and Yoongi and Haeju are stifling their laughter as they run down the hall.
"You do know this is college, right?" mocks Yoongi. "You can leave a class whenever you want to."
"I know, but running makes it more fun, doesn't it?" says Haeju cheerfully as they push the main doors open, sunlight greeting them once they step out.
xxxx
"Charm was a scheme for making strangers like and trust a person immediately," reads Haeju. "No matter what the charmer had in mind."
Yoongi is sitting next to her, their shoulders touching, and their fingers are intertwined as they hold hands. "I can have oodles of charm when I want to," quotes Yoongi, not looking at the book.
"Breakfast of Champions is one of my personal favorites," says Haeju happily. "Although this copy has your scribbles all over it. Blasphemy!"
"It's not blasphemy; it's admiration," says Yoongi pompously. "Admiration, appreciation... but not blasphemy."
"This is a really old copy," says Haeju, impressed. She holds the Vonnegut book carefully in her hands as Yoongi smiles smugly, finishing what's left of his candy bar. They're both sitting on Yoongi's bed, going through books, and Haeju closes the novel.
"I'm keeping this one," she says, holding the book close to her chest.
"Stealing my books already?" sighs Yoongi mockingly. "Damn it, woman! What's next? Changing my wardrobe?"
"Well, you do wear too much black..." giggles Haeju, and Yoongi pretends to look hurt.
"Oh, well, if you say so," he says, moving closer. "You can twist my rubber arm anytime."
Haeju puts the book aside, her eyes locking with Yoongi's, and she can already feel how her heart rate is picking up. Yoongi pushes the rest of the books off the bed, his eyes searching for something in Haeju's face, and this makes her nervous. The mood in the room has changed, and it feels heavy with something she can't quite describe, but she waits.
"There's something different about you today," Yoongi notes, touching Haeju's chin with his finger.
"Um..." Haeju blushes, thinking about what happened with Jungkook. "I feel the same. Nothing has really changed."
"I just missed you, I guess," says Yoongi as he leans in. He places his hands on Haeju's waist, and slowly coaxes her into lying down, his body on top of hers. Haeju holds her breath as Yoongi's lips tease hers, but he doesn't kiss her. Yoongi is merely looking at her with interest, and she feels his belt brushing her stomach.
"When I'm around you..." Yoongi trails off. "All I can think about is getting you to kiss me."
And Yoongi looks scared and terribly vulnerable, as if he just confessed the darkest secret ever. Haeju wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in, closing the gap between their lips. Yoongi is kissing her gently and sweetly, and all the memories from the previous night are gone from Haeju's mind.
Haeju parts her lips, allowing Yoongi to deepen the kiss. Haeju is marveled by the way their tongues move in sync, as if it has always been meant to be this way. Her soft moans are muffled as Yoongi starts kissing her faster and aggressively, and she feels one of his hands starting to slide under her shirt. But it feels okay, and she wants this.
She really does.
Yoongi lets go of her lips as his hand trails upward, touching the fabric of Haeju's bra. He's looking at her as if asking for permission, and Haeju can't help but giggle. "You should look at your face," she says shyly.
"Haeju, I don't want to pressure you into anything," he says seriously. "I know about your ring and your vow and... er, I can live without this."
But I can't, thinks Haeju, and this thought surprises her.
"I trust you," says Haeju quietly.
Yoongi's expression changes, and she can see the lust in his eyes as his hand moves to Haeju's back, swiftly unhooking her bra. Haeju lets out a little gasp when Yoongi's fingers slide under her bra, barely touching her sensitive skin.
"Fuck," breathes Yoongi, crushing his lips against Haeju's. Their kissing is different now, it's full of want and electricity, and Haeju arches her back as Yoongi continues to touch her. It feels amazing, and a million sensations are running through her body, and she wants more and more.
Yoongi's lips move to her neck, his tongue making her shiver as he traces circles on her skin with it. He starts unbuttoning her blouse and she lets him, not because she feels that she needs to let him do it, but because she wants him to do it. She doesn't want to overthink this.
Yoongi places kisses all over her collarbone, then he pushes aside the bra and his mouth is on her breasts, her stomach, everywhere. Every single spot he kisses it's like he's leaving a mark, she can feel how her skin is burning, and Haeju had never felt like this before. Yoongi moves up and kisses her on the lips again, and then he chuckles against his lips.
"What?" Haeju asks, wondering if she's doing something wrong.
"You're just too fucking perfect," he says, and then he collapses next to her, quickly wrapping his arms around her.
"You stopped," says Haeju, trying to not sound too disappointed.
"I don't want to do, um, stuff in here," says Yoongi. "People come in here all the time, Ross Hall's residents have no respect for personal boundaries. Just like my parents. I will never forget that time when I was with Seulah and-".
Yoongi stops talking, and he stares at the ceiling instead. Haeju's chest is pressed against his, so she can feel how Yoongi's heartbeat is too fast, how his heart seems to be threatening to burst out of his chest. Yoongi remains silent, so Haeju takes this opportunity to slide her hands between them and fix her clothing, and then she kisses him on the cheek.
"Talk to me," says Haeju.
"Ha, I don't know if you want to hear my sob story," he mumbles, cuddling closer to her.
"Tell me yours, I'll tell you mine," says Haeju, taking in Yoongi's scent and warmth.
"Um... Seulah was my first girlfriend," he says shakily. "Tae, Hoseok, Seulah and yours truly used to hang out all the time. Good times."
"What happened?" asks Haeju.
"Seulah died," says Yoongi heavily. "She got hit by a drunk driver while she was riding her bike... It was horrible. I can't forget the funeral; they had a closed casket ceremony and all. I was never able to see her again."
"I'm so sorry," says Haeju sincerely, kissing him on the cheek again.
"Yeah... well," says Yoongi, clearing his throat. "Stuff happens."
"Is that why you're so... guarded?" asks Haeju.
"Perhaps," says Yoongi numbly. "I don't know. My life has been a little messed up ever since she died... I spent much of my time trying to find the bastard who killed her. The guy or woman drove off after the accident. I still don't know who it was. My belief in God was already in trouble at the time, but I lost all faith after that."
"God's actions are hard to understand sometimes," says Haeju softly.
"Well, if he does exist, he's kind of a dick," says Yoongi spitefully. "Sorry. I... Sorry."
Haeju holds him closer and Yoongi does the same, giving her a sad smile. "What's your sob story, Baek?"
"Nothing compared to this," says Haeju in embarrassment.
"Aw, a nun hit you with a ruler?" teases Yoongi.
"Yes! I couldn't move my hands for days," says Haeju sarcastically.
"Wow, you deserve an award for that," continues Yoongi. "Seriously, when you wake in the morning I bet you only need two more miracles to be a saint."
"The funny thing is, they used to call me Saint Haeju at my old school," says Haeju sadly. "I was very... conservative and withdrawn. I changed when I started dating K.C, but I was still too much of a prude, apparently.
"Meh, Kang turned into a bully anyway," says Yoongi dismissively. "He wasn't worth your time."
"Yeah...Haeju stops, realizing something. "Wait. How do you know his last name? And how do you know that he turned into a bully?"
"You told me," says Yoongi quickly.
"I did?" asks Haeju, raising an eyebrow. She doesn't remember ever mentioning that to Yoongi, but if he says she did... No, wait. She really never mentioned this to him. How does he know?
"Yoongi" starts Haeju, but Yoongi's phone starts ringing and he moves away from her. "Yeah?" says Yoongi into the speaker. "Are you ready?"
Haeju lies there, realizing that she really doesn't know Yoongi at all. Her feelings for him are too complicated right now, and this, well, sucks.
"Haeju," says Yoongi, hanging up. "You said you trust me, right?"
Haeju sits on the bed and fixes her hair, nodding. Yoongi seems hesitant before speaking, and he digs his hands in his pockets, not looking directly at her.
"I have something to show you."
xxxx
The Wilson building has been neglected for years now. The only reasons why the school hasn't gotten rid of it is due to budget issues, and because it's of sentimental value to the university alumni. Stories of intense partying and mysterious disappearances are part of the building, and Haeju has heard way too many anecdotes from Jungkook.
And this is where Yangmi was found, thinks Haeju anxiously.
But now they're heading over there, Yoongi's hand holding Haeju's tightly, and she feels dizzy. Yoongi looks around to make sure that no one is following them, and he takes a key out of his pocket, unlocking the front door. They walk down the hallway in silence, their footsteps echoing and loud, and Haeju notices that everything looks clean and tidy. She expected ruins and dirt, but it seems that someone has been attending to the building.
Yoongi stops in front of two heavy wooden doors, and Haeju can hear people talking on the other side. Yoongi turns around, his face flushes, and he lets go of Haeju's hand.
"They know we're friends, but only Hoseok and Tae know what's really going on between us," explains Yoongi. "I don't want the rest of them to know yet."
"Them?" blurts Haeju. Yoongi considers her for a second and then gulps, his features tainted with nerves.
"I trust you," says Yoongi, still sounding cautious. "You have to promise me that you will never talk about what you're going to see tonight. I had my doubts about you witnessing this part of my life, but Tae insisted to, um, let you in."
"Okay," says Haeju slowly, barely able to breathe.
"Do you promise to never talk about this?" asks Yoongi seriously.
"I promise," nods Haeju, her heartbeats betraying her. All this lying is getting to her, and she doesn't know if she will able to hold on any longer. Because it's a fact that she's irrevocably falling for Yoongi, and hurting him is the last thing she wants to do.
But she's doing it for Jungkook. She made a promise to Jungkook first, and if that means that she has to break her promise to Yoongi, so be it.
"In that room," says Yoongi, pointing at the door in front of them. "My name is not Yoongi."
"Really?" mocks Haeju, trying to lighten the mood. "What is it, then?"
Yoongi takes a deep breath, placing his hand on the doorknob, and he looks at Haeju straight in the eye like he never has before.
"It's Quicksilver."
Haeju doesn't even have time to wrap her mind about what Yoongi just said, but he's already pulling her into the old classroom, and people are standing around, drinking and talking.
There is a faint smell of weed coming from the far corner of the room, and she sees how Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust at it.
"Guys, not in here," he says.
The room goes suddenly silent, and Haeju glances all over the place, her heart thudding. Jung Chaeku, his girlfriend Soojin, Choi Bongchol, Lee Jiah, Jung Hoseok, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon and his brother, Seokjin. They are all here.
"What is she doing here?" snaps Seokjin.
"Where's Pica?" asks Yoongi, ignoring Seokjin.
"Won't be able to make it... she's busy," shrugs Bongchol, smiling at Haeju.
"What's going on?" mutters Haeju.
"As all of you know, Haeju here stood up for Tae the other day," says Yoongi proudly. People murmur their approval and Tae lets out a little squeal.
"Protecting one of us is quite an admirable thing," says Namjoon, raising his glass of champagne.
"One of us?" asks Haeju, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand..."
"We're Acuity," says Hoseok brightly. "We're a secret society on campus. This society has been around since the 80s, and it was founded by someone we like to call... Snake."
"What do you guys do in here?" asks Haeju, feeling like she's about to pass out.
"Ah, one thing at a time," says Yoongi, smirking. "Let me introduce you to everyone in here."
"I know him," says Haeju, pointing at Chaeku, who blushes intensely. Soojin shoots Haeju a dirty look and wraps an arm around Chaeku possessively.
"So this is why you grew distant from Chaerin," mentions Haeju casually, looking at Chaeku.
"Yeah, I... yeah," says Chaeku sheepishly, gazing adoringly into Soojin's eyes.
"You already know I'm Quicksilver," says Yoongi. "Hoseok is Aeon, Jiah is Astir, Bongchol is Beam, Namjoon is Charmer, Seokjin is Posh - Yoongi's lips curl up when he says this - Tae is Foxy, Soojin is Pas, and Chaeku is Jock. Pica isn't here today, she rarely makes it to meetings, but you'll get to know her eventually."
"Is she joining?" asks Jiah, narrowing her eyes. "Isn't she like, friends with Jeon Jungkook?"
"No, not anymore," says Yoongi crossly. "Or did you miss the fight they had weeks ago?"
"Well, last time I talked to him he seemed very vague about the nature of his relationship with Haeju," says Jiah simply, crossing her arms.
"Ignore her," says Yoongi, rolling his eyes. "Haeju, we want you to join Acuity. You're perfect for it."
"What?" scoffs Jiah.
"Yay!" says Tae happily, running over to Haeju and hugging her tightly. "I really like you, Baek Haeju!
"Um, thanks," blushes Haeju as Tae lets go.
"I don't see why not," shrugs Hoseok, giving Yoongi a knowing smile.
"No complaints from me," says Namjoon, glaring at Seokjin, who still seems upset about the whole thing. Jiah says nothing and continues to stare blankly at Haeju, and Bongchol gives Yoongi the thumbs up.
"What do I have to do?" asks Haeju.
"You already did something to earn your place... protecting Tae," nods Yoongi. "Soon you will find out why this is relevant. And..." Yoongi shows his tattoo, and then beckons the rest of the group to do the same.
Hoseok turns around and Haeju can see the circle on the back of his neck; Jiah lifts her shirt from the back to reveal a circle on her lower back; Soojin has the tattoo located on her ankle; Chaeku has it on his shoulder blade. Bongchol smiles kindly at her as he shows the circle on his upper arm; Namjoon makes Haeju blush when he lifts his shirt to show the circle on his chest. Seokjin hesitates before showing the tattoo on the back of her ear, and Tae happily shows hers, which is next to her belly button.
"This is why you asked me about getting a tattoo" says Haeju.
"Yes," nods Yoongi. "So, are you in?"
Haeju looks at the group and then back at Yoongi, and everything seems suddenly connected. She needs to find out what this society had to do with Yangmi's death, with Yon dropping out. The only way to solve this mystery, to help Jungkook, is to join Acuity. She never expected to get this lucky, and she tries to push away the thoughts of imminent betrayal that are currently haunting her.
"I... Yes. I'm in."
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traditionallymodern · 4 years
Text
𝗧𝗵𝗼𝗿: Ince I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you were dead!
𝗟𝗼𝗸𝗶: I already do lmaoo
𝗧𝗵𝗼𝗿:
𝗧𝗵𝗼𝗿: You ok?
𝗟𝗼𝗸𝗶, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽: Nope!
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