Archive of Our Own

Min Yoongi comes back into Hoseok’s life the same way he left it: suddenly, shockingly, knocking his entire world off its axis.

“This place is even grosser than Jungkook’s dorm room.”

“Hey! It’s your dorm room, too, Tae!”

“Correction: This place is even grosser than Jungkook’s half of our dorm room.”

“You’re both gross,” Jimin offers as a compromise, only leading to the younger two dragging him into their meaningless bickering.

Hoseok watches them fondly, taking another sip of his slightly lukewarm beer and cringing. Taehyung definitely wasn’t wrong - this hotel was practically crawling with all sorts of germs and diseases.

Well - okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. The hotel isn’t necessarily ‘dirty’, per se, it’s more…sketchy. The interior looks like it hasn’t been updated since the late ’60s, with mustard yellow couches and armchairs in the lobby and peeling paisley wallpaper. There’s an unmistakable mustiness to the air, and the hallways are lined with old faded wooden banisters in a light color that was probably really cool around the same time LSD first was.

It feels like a place lost in time - but it’s cheap. And it has a bar in the lobby. And it’s only for one night until they continue on their road trip, so Hoseok thinks he and the kids can suck it up for the next 12 hours.

“You’re gonna poke a hole through your lip.” Hoseok points a warning finger at Jungkook, who has eaten the fruit off of the little skewer in both his and Taehyung’s colorful drinks and is now tucking them into his gums to make them stick out like little fangs.

It’s kind of funny, if Hoseok is being honest, especially when Jungkook looks over at him with wide, innocent eyes and tiny plastic knives poking out between his lips. But until they meet up with Namjoon and Seokjin, Hoseok has to be the AIR (Adult In Residence). Jimin would probably make a better AIR, but Hoseok is older so it’s a matter of pride at this point.

Hoseok raises a pointed eyebrow, and with a churlish pout, Jungkook spits the tiny skewers out onto the bar in front of him, along with a tiny pool of saliva, earning an exasperated glare from the bartender whose patience has been severely tested by the four of them over the past hour.

“Do you think anyone famous ever died here?” Taehyung suddenly asks in a low, conspiratorial tone. His tongue is dyed bright purple from his drink, to match Jungkook’s cherry red one.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, leaning forward with wide eyes. They all entertain Taehyung’s ridiculous conspiracies and wild imagination, but Jungkook lets himself get swept up in them, gullible and curious and adoring of everything that comes out of Taehyung’s mouth.

Jimin rolls his eyes and lifts his glass to drain the rest of his drink, hiding a tiny smile. He waves at the bartender for a refill, tipping his glass questioningly towards Hoseok’s nearly empty bottle. Hoseok nods and Jimin motions for a beer as well.

“I mean,” Taehyung continues, eyes darting around suspiciously, “doesn’t this seem like the perfect place for a singer or a movie star to hide out at. Y’know, if they wanna have a crazy party with illegal drugs, or meet up with their secret lover or whatever.”

“Parties and sex don’t necessarily mean someone died,” Hoseok points out, pointing his fresh beer in Taehyung’s direction.

“But it could. Just think about it, some rock star could have overdosed on heroin in one of these rooms, or some actress’ jealous husband could have murdered her illicit lover right next door to where we’re sleeping!”

“Woah,” Jungkook breathes, looking around the lobby as if seeing it for the first time. Taehyung grins smugly at the reaction. Jungkook suddenly looks alarmed, eyes widening comically. “What if our room is haunted?”

“Our room isn’t haunted,” Hoseok assures him. Jungkook squints his eyes suspiciously at Hoseok, looking over at Jimin for confirmation.

“It’s not,” Jimin agrees, and Jungkook finally looks placated.

“Yah, why didn’t you believe me when I said it?” Hoseok complains. Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know anything about ghosts, Hobi-hyung.”

Hoseok looks to Jimin for some sort of explanation, but the apparent supernatural expert simply shrugs his shoulders. They both just drop it because sometimes Jungkook’s explanations only serve to make them even more confused.

“Do you think they have dirty porn to rent on the TV in our room?” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows and Hoseok nearly snorts his beer out of his nose.

“No! Nuh uh, veto!”

“Come on, Hobi-hyung! We don’t have to watch it, we can just, y’know, browse. Read the plot summaries.”

Hoseok rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers. For someone with no real-life interest in sex, the kid has a morbid fascination with it. Hoseok’s about to start listing the innumerable reasons why they will not be casually browsing porn together, when Jimin cuts him off with a choked laugh.

“Or we could just press our ears up against the wall,” he murmurs into his drink. The rest of them look at each other, confused, until Jimin throws a meaningful glance over his shoulder where two new patrons have just entered the hotel.

It’s two men, though it’s hard to see the second one right away. He’s shorter, smaller, nearly hidden behind the other man like a shadow.

The taller man is older, greying only slightly at the temples, with an impeccable suit that clearly stands out in the dingy hotel. The suit is probably some kind of high fashion designer piece - Taehyung would probably know.

The second man trails behind him, urged forward by the other man’s large hand on the small of his back. He’s younger, Hoseok can tell without seeing his face, just by the build of his body and the way he’s dressed. Nothing but a thin white t-shirt and ripped black skinny jeans, his hair a shocking platinum blonde color with the roots starting to poke through.

Hoseok watches them, watches as they approach one of the rooms and ignores the scandalized whispers and snickers of his friends.

There’s something familiar about him, the younger man… Something about the slope of his shoulders, the bend of his elbows, the way his jeans hang off of his hips. It’s tugging incessantly at Hoseok’s mind, quick flashes of memories that he can’t quite catch onto, can’t put all the pieces together to make a full picture.

It’s more of a feeling.

And then, the older man pushes the door to the room open and gestures for the younger man to go inside. He looks over his shoulder before walking in, just a quick quirk of his neck turning to the right, but it’s enough for Hoseok to catch a glimpse of his profile.

And it’s enough to have Hoseok standing from his chair so suddenly that Jimin has to catch his beer before it topples over, and shouting: “Min Yoongi!”

The older man looks back at him, eyebrows furrowed. The blonde boy goes completely still, rigidity of his spine clear through his thin t-shirt, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok calls again, ignoring the fact that his friends are all staring at him like he’s completely lost it. And maybe he has. Who’s to say?

The blonde boy ignores him again, grabbing the older man by the wrist and dragging him in the room. Hoseok can just barely see the older man’s face twist up in anger before he shuts the door firmly behind him.

Hoseok stands there, staring, probably looking like a complete idiot for what feels like hours. He’s not sure why it feels so cold all of a sudden, why he feels like he just lost something he didn’t have in the first place.

“Hobi?” Jimin tugs gently at his sleeve, pulling him back down into his seat. Hoseok drops into his seat, feeling dazed with a bit of a head rush, like he’s just gotten off a rollercoaster.

It hadn’t been him, had it? It was just someone who vaguely looked like Yoongi. How would Hoseok even know? He hasn’t seen Yoongi in so long, and Yoongi was never blonde before.

It must have been a mistake. Just a simple case of mistaken identity.

But why is his heart still pounding like that?

Jungkook’s eyes dart between Hoseok and the room the pair disappeared into. “Did you know that guy? The kid?”

Be respectful, he’s older than you, is on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue, but it wasn’t Yoongi, so Hoseok doesn’t actually know how old the blonde boy was.

“I thought I did,” Hoseok says slowly. “He looks like an old friend of mine that moved away a few years ago.”

“Why did he move?” Jimin asks, politely interested as he always is.

“I - I don’t know,” Hoseok admits, an old familiar frustration tugging at his gut.

“So you guys weren’t that close?”

“No, we - we were. We were really close. He was my best friend.”

Jimin tilts his head to the side, questioningly. “Your best friend moved away without even telling you?”

“I mean - I think he moved away. It was kind of weird, it was just like… One day he was there, and then he just wasn’t. His parents still lived in the same house, but when Namjoon, Jin, and I went to ask them where Yoongi was after he stopped showing up to school for a few days, they said they’d call the cops if we didn’t get off their property.”

Well, at first they only threatened to call the cops.

Then, Yoongi’s father, who Hoseok had known since he was in the third grade - the man who used to make Yoongi and Hoseok after school snacks and fixed their video games for them every time they hit a wrong button on the TV and cheered for Yoongi alongside Hoseok at every high school basketball game - that very same man looked Hoseok right in the eye and said that if he ever caught him hanging around his house again, he would kill him.

Hoseok has never seen Seokjin get so angry in his life. He told the Mins to go right ahead and call the cops, he would chain himself to their mailbox until they told him where Yoongi was. It took the combined efforts of Namjoon and Hoseok to pull him away, long limbs thrashing, screaming at the top of his lungs the whole time.

Seokjin was always so protective of Yoongi - the desperate sound of his voice screaming for the younger boy that day was burned into Hoseok’s mind forever. Like an animal mourning.

Hoseok wanted to scream, too. He wanted to cry and scream and break everything in sight - he felt so helpless that all of the pain just faded into numbness.

Some part of his brain shut down the day Yoongi left and never again allowed him to access it for fear that he would break down completely and never recover. If Hoseok accepted that Yoongi was gone, if he let himself feel the loss, he’s not sure he ever would have bounced back.

“Maybe he was abducted by aliens,” Taehyung suggests. If it had been anyone else, Hoseok would probably snap at them to stop making jokes, but this was Taehyung. He most likely wasn’t kidding at all.

“Maybe he was abducted by people,” Jimin adds, looking worried. Hoseok forces himself to laugh it off, he’s already spent far too long with thoughts like that plaguing his mind. Terrible, anxious thoughts that kept him up night after night, imagining Yoongi somewhere hurt or scared or dead.

“He probably just got in a fight with his dad so they shipped him off to boarding school or something.”

“Do you really think that could be him?” Jungkook asks, bouncing slightly in his seat.

I really wanted it to be.

“No,” Hoseok says decisively, squashing down the hope before it blooms again. It must have been a trick of the light or something, his mind wanting it to be Yoongi so badly that it convinced him it really was him. “No, Yoongi’s probably off at some fancy music school or something now. He’s not -“

“Turning tricks in a seedy motel in the middle of nowhere?” Jimin supplies.

“No,” Hoseok repeats firmly. “He’s not. Yoongi’s a genius, and like, the coolest guy I’ve ever met, and he’s knows all kinds of stuff about sports and cooking and rapping and -“

“Really?” Jungkook props his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder so he can listen to Hoseok in awe.

Hoseok feels his lips start to curve into a fond smile, if not a little sad. Yoongi really was the most amazing person Hoseok had ever met. He couldn’t even believe it when the skinny kid with the pretty cat eyes came up to him at recess one day in first grade and asked him if he wanted to go by the pond and catch frogs with him.

And the next day, if he’d like to play tic-tac-toe with him (he let Hoseok win every single time).

And the next day, if Hoseok would like to split the chocolate bar his mom gave him because too much candy made his tummy hurt.

And the next day, if he’d like to play tag with his friends Seokjin and Namjoon.

On and on every day for years and years until Hoseok’s entire life revolved around Yoongi, and by extension, Seokjin and Namjoon. Until Hoseok and Yoongi knew everything about each other, couldn’t go more than a few hours without seeing each other, drove their parents crazy begging for rides to each other’s houses every day until Yoongi finally got his license and they were able to see each other whenever they wanted to.

A million amazing things about Yoongi are sitting right at the tip of his tongue, sweet with nostalgia. Jimin must see it because he smiles and rests a hand on Hoseok’s arm. “Can you tell us more about him?”

Jungkook and Taehyung nod enthusiastically in agreement, eyes bright and shining, and they’re so young - fuck, Jungkook is just about the same age Hoseok was when Yoongi left. Jungkook’s in his first year of university, and Yoongi had left during their senior year of high school. Hoseok didn’t even know if Yoongi went to university.

And he wants to talk about Yoongi so badly. He rarely ever does with Seokjin and Namjoon because it makes them all too sad, but telling Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin can’t hurt them because they never even knew him.

They don’t even know what they’re missing.

So Hoseok drains the last of his beer, motions to the bartender to refill all of their drinks, and he tells them about Min Yoongi.

He tells them about his best friend, Min Yoongi, who wanted to be his friend when no one else did because he was new and he wore colors that were too bright and shoes that didn’t match. Min Yoongi, who didn’t even get a little bit mad when Hoseok lost his favorite toy race car in the river because he wanted to see if it had an aquatic mode. Min Yoongi, who punched a boy twice his size in the face for making fun of Hoseok for liking to dance. Min Yoongi, who made Seokjin laugh like no other, and made music with Namjoon all night until they were both so tired they could barely keep their eyes open, but they were happy.

Min Yoongi, who was the captain of the basketball team despite being the shortest player by at least a whole head; Min Yoongi, who snuck out of study hall to play the piano for Hoseok in the music room; Min Yoongi, who could rap better than any of the famous singers he idolized, in Hoseok’s opinion.

Min Yoongi, with his careful words and his soft smiles and his round cheeks. Min Yoongi, who laughed at all of Hoseok’s jokes even though they weren’t all that funny, and his eyes got all squinty and his gums showed. Min Yoongi, who intertwined his long, thin fingers with Hoseok’s when a storm knocked out the power, or when they were just sitting in bed watching a movie because they both just liked the feeling of it.

With every anecdote, Hoseok feels a little bit lighter, can see the other three boys getting drawn further and further in. It must have been an hour, nearly two, that he’s been talking about Yoongi now, but no one looks bored. No one stops him.

“Wow,” Jungkook says when Hoseok’s finally finished. “I hope Yoongi comes back so I can make him my best friend!”

“Rude!” Taehyung smacks Jungkook upside the back of his head with an affronted look on his face.

“Ow, ow! You can be best friends with Yoongi, too!”

Jimin sighs and turns his back, shutting out the bickering of the younger two and facing Hoseok. There’s something thoughtful in his expression, lips twitching like there are words bursting to get out. Sometimes Hoseok wishes Jimin were just as oblivious as the other two, because when he gets that look on his face, it feels like he’s looking right into Hoseok.

“You said he left two years ago?”

“Yeah, why?”

Jimin hums to himself and takes another sip of his drink, shrugging delicately. “He never knew you were bi, then.”

“Um, I guess not?” Hoseok had never really thought about it, but Jimin was right. Hoseok hadn’t realized he was bi until about a year and a half ago, after a very drunk college party hook up led to a very sober realization.

Well, maybe he had thought about it, at least for a moment, because he distinctly remembers laying in bed afterwards, staring up at the ceiling, and wishing he could talk to Yoongi about it.

“Did you know he was gay?”

Hoseok chokes on his beer.

“Did I - what? He’s - what? He’s not? I mean, maybe he is, I don’t know. Why are you asking me this?”

Jimin shrugs again, but Jimin’s shrugs always feel like they have a language of their own. “You just didn’t seem surprised when you thought it was him going into the room with that man.”

“He’s,” Hoseok fumbles, doesn’t really have a good answer to that. He hadn’t even thought about the implications of thinking that boy had been Yoongi, he had just been so excited in the moment he didn’t think about the context of the situation.

“I don’t know if Yoongi’s gay, I just thought that looked like him,” Hoseok grumbles finally, turning back towards the bar so he isn’t facing Jimin face on, so vulnerable, anymore.

“So when you guys were friends, he didn’t know you were bi and you didn’t know that he may or may not be gay?” Jimin innocently sips at his drink, but Hoseok knows better and it isn’t hard to read into the real meaning of his words.

“This conversation is stupid. I bet whatever Jungkook and Taehyung are talking about isn’t even as stupid as this.”

Just then, Jungkook’s voice rings out: “If a giant wanted to have sex they could use a trash bag as a condom and it would be just as effective!”

Jimin raises a meaningful eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe not.”

Hoseok feels drained all of a sudden, staring down into his empty beer. He feels kind of empty, too.

They should probably get to bed soon if they wanna hit the road early tomorrow, and Hoseok needs a good night’s sleep to clear his mind. He doesn’t want any of his resurfacing sadness to ruin the trip for everyone else.

Jimin pats him gently on the back, probably sensing Hoseok’s exhaustion. He’s always been preceptive to other people like that, it’s what makes him so good at taking care of people.

“If you’re meant to, I’m sure you’ll find him again one day.”

It sounds like something Namjoon would say, but it’s comforting in its own way when Jimin says it. Hoseok smiles weakly.

“Thanks, Jiminie. Let’s get the kids tucked in, shall we?”

Jimin laughs brightly and drains the rest of his drink before draping himself across Taehyung’s back, reaching over him to pinch at Jungkook’s cheeks and tell them both it’s ‘way past their bedtime’. Hoseok stands with him, raising his arms over his head to feel the pop of the joints in his back.

The door to the room down the hall swings open.

Everyone goes very still, Jimin’s hand dropping from Jungkook’s cheek, Jungkook’s eyes wide and Taehyung’s jaw slightly hanging open. They’re being obvious, and probably very rude, but Hoseok can’t find it in him to reprimand them because he’s just as frozen, hardly even daring to breathe as the occupants of the room walk through the door.

The older man comes out first, suit jacket slung over his arm now, finely parted hair ruffled in the back like there’d been fingers running through it. He crowds the smaller man in the doorway, leans down to whisper something in his ear and exchanges something between their hands. He walks away to the front desk and Hoseok vaguely hears him ask something about a phone, but he doesn’t really pay attention to it at all.

Because when the man walks away, he leaves the blonde boy behind, leaning against the doorframe with his head slightly tilted back, a faraway look in his eyes.

And it’s him.

He’s sharper in the corners of his mouth with dark smudges under his eyes now, but it’s unmistakably him. Unmistakably his Yoongi, coming out of that hotel room with some strange man, accepting a handful of cash and placing an unlit cigarette between his pouty lips.

Hoseok’s doesn’t know if he’s relieved or heartbroken. On one hand he’s here - Yoongi is here right in front of Hoseok like a ghost come back to life. On the other hand, he’s here in this terrible motel with dark red marks on his neck and hands that visibly shake when he runs them through his bleached hair.

“It’s him,” Jungkook breathes, reverently. And Hoseok has no idea how he knows that, especially because Yoongi isn’t close enough to even get a good look at him, but he isn’t stopping to ask questions. He’s letting his feet take him closer and closer to Yoongi - as close as Yoongi will let him, like a planet pulled in by Yoongi’s gravitational force.

Yoongi notices him when he’s a few feet away, startled into standing upright, fingers catching the unlit cigarette as his lips part and his eyes go big.

“Yoongi.”

Hoseok was afraid that after spending so long talking about him, the name might be worn out by now. But if anything, it feels even better saying it now, like it’s filling back up that empty part of him.

Yoongi blinks hard a few times, trying to take a step back and hitting the doorframe. His eyes flit over Hoseok’s shoulder in the direction of the front desk, and then in the direction of his friends at the bar.

“What - It really was you?” Yoongi’s voice is lower than it used to be, still gravelly around the edges and the familiarity makes his breath catch. “It sounded like you but, shit, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me or something.”

Hoseok laughs weakly. “Yeah, same.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow slightly and that’s when Hoseok notices the faint smudges of black makeup around the edges, making them look even deeper and sharper than usual.

“You can’t just yell people’s full names in public like that, huh? Ever heard of privacy?”

The way he chides Hoseok is just as familiar as his voice, the way he pouts and points an accusing finger in Hoseok’s face as if they’re sixteen again and Yoongi just found out Hoseok stayed up all night binging a new season of his favorite anime instead of studying for his chemistry exam.

Hoseok doesn’t really stop to think, just reaches for Yoongi and pulls him into a hug, praying that if he holds on tight enough he’ll never lose Yoongi again. At first touch, Yoongi flinches and goes very, very stiff in Hoseok’s arms, but after a few deep breaths he relaxes into it, raising his own arms to circle Hoseok’s back loosely.

“I missed you, hyung,” Hoseok breathes.

Yoongi smells different now. Hoseok wonders what he normally smells like, because right now, he smells like sweat and cheap soap and - things Hoseok doesn’t want to think about. Yoongi used to smell like coffee and oranges because that’s what he ate for breakfast before school every morning. What does Yoongi eat for breakfast now?

“You too,” Yoongi responds, voice cracking at the end, sounding dangerously close to tears. Hoseok pulls back, but doesn’t move too far away. Yoongi rubs at his eyes with a small laugh, smudging the black makeup further. “What the hell are you doing here, Seok-ah? In the middle of fucking nowhere?”

“We’re going on a road trip!” Hoseok motions to the three he left at the bar. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin all look away, pretending they weren’t staring so quickly Hoseok wouldn’t be surprised if they all got whiplash.

“Ah, those are your friends now?” Yoongi asks carefully.

“We’re meeting up with Namjoon and Jin-hyung the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Yoongi breathes, looking relieved. “You’re all still - that’s good. Really good.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok clears his throat and glances over his shoulder at the older man, talking on the phone at the front desk. “So you’re here with your, uh, boyfriend?”

The flat look Yoongi gives him makes Hoseok want to immediately palm himself in the face. Way to play it cool, Hoseok. Real cool.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right - sorry, I - sorry.”

A wry smile curls its way across Yoongi’s lips and he shrugs, running a hand through his bleached hair and ruffling it. It looks good on him, Hoseok thinks. Accentuates his dark eyes and inky lashes, the delicate rose color of his cheeks and lips.

“Don’t worry about it. Shit happens, right?”

Hoseok frowns. “Yoongi, what exactly did happen?”

“Hey, you ready to go?” A strong, masculine voice comes from somewhere behind Hoseok, He turns and finds the older man striding over to them, confident smirk on his face.

“Um, we were actually kind of -“

“I’m ready,” Yoongi says quickly. And suddenly, his voice isn’t familiar anymore. It’s sweeter, but not like Yoongi’s real honey-sweet voice. It’s more like a dripping, sticky kind of sweet.

The man’s smirk grows and he winds an arm casually around Yoongi’s waist, appraising Hoseok as if he’s just noticed him. Hoseok’s eyes zero in on the way his large, ring-adorned fingers wrap possessively around Yoongi’s narrow waist.

The man chuckles, raising an eyebrow at Hoseok and then Yoongi. “Always hard at work, aren’t you, sugar?”

Yoongi smiles up at him coyly, but Hoseok can see the cold glaze of his eyes at the pet name.

“Well,” the man continues, addressing Hoseok now, “I can promise you, he’s a great investment.” His hand slips down Yoongi’s waist to grab at his ass and Yoongi’s entire face goes stony, a hot flush rising to his cheeks as he looks down to avoid Hoseok’s eyes. Hoseok feels something burning like a wildfire in his chest.

“What the hell are you -“

“Not tonight, though,” the man says, as if Hoseok hadn’t even spoken. “I think I’ve worn him out enough for one night, don’t you, doll?”

“You always do.” Voice like syrup.

“Go ahead and give him a business card or something, sweetheart,” the man orders. “The taxi is waiting outside, and as long as I’m the one paying the fare, you go when I tell you.”

“Of course,” Yoongi agrees. He follows after the man, head ducked, not even looking at Hoseok.

“Wait,” Hoseok catches his wrist before he can get too far. His fingers wrap too easily around it. “Wait, please, I’ll get you a new taxi, I’ll - I’ll drive you home myself, just please, stay.”

“He’s done for the night, kid,” the man says gruffly, grabbing onto Yoongi’s other wrist and tugging. Hoseok lets go, only to keep Yoongi from getting hurt. He seems so fragile that Hoseok is afraid being pulled in two directions will completely shatter him.

Yoongi turns back to look at Hoseok, eyes threatening to spill over with tears. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, this never should have - I wish you had never come here. Just forget about this, okay?” He places the cigarette back between his lips and his hand shakes, follows the man out of the hotel without another look back.

Hoseok feels like he’s in one of those dreams where you’re trying to run, but it feels like your legs are stuck in wet cement and you can’t get them to move.

Everything in him is screaming to follow after Yoongi, to not let him slip through his fingers again. Another part is telling him that he’d only be putting Yoongi in danger by doing that, only upsetting him more and who know what the man with him was capable of doing to Yoongi? The biggest part of him can’t believe that any of this is happening it all, thinks that maybe it really is a dream and he’s going to wake up in the backseat of his car, with Jungkook at the wheel singing along to the radio with Taehyung and Jimin dozing in the seat next to him.

But this isn’t a dream at all. This is a nightmare.

He’s twenty years old and just as helpless as he was when he was eighteen, losing Yoongi for the first time.

He can’t look back at his friends, doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle the sympathetic looks on his face. Instead, he looks over at the front desk and is struck with a sudden, crazy idea.

“Excuse me,” he says politely to the young woman sitting at the desk. Her name tag reads ‘Adora’.

“Yes, how can I help you sir?” She asks, all professional, as if she hadn’t seen a single thing that just happened.

“Does, um, does that boy? The blonde one? Does he come in here a lot?”

Adora gives him a scathing once-over. “What are you, a cop or something?”

“No!”

“Some kind of stalker? I have a taser, you know.”

“No, no, no!” Hoseok waves his hands in the air desperately. “No, I’m just a friend! He’s an old friend!”

Adora eyes him suspiciously. “You know Sugar?”

Ohhh, the man wasn’t just calling him a pet name earlier, that’s the name that Yoongi goes by when he’s working. To maintain his privacy.

And Hoseok had gone shouting his real name to the high heavens like some sort of idiot.

“Yes, I know, uh, Sugar. Can you just tell me how often he comes?” Hoseok puts every ounce of earnestness in his body into his voice and his eyes, pleading with the young woman. He’s been told he comes off as very earnest, and it must be true, because Adora sighs and sits forward in her chair, leaning her chin in her hand.

“More often than I wish he would. Poor kid… I’ve been working here since I was in high school, family company and all, and I don’t think a single week has gone by in the past year and a half or so that I haven’t seen him here with that man, or another man, or another. The weekends, especially.”

“Is he,” Hoseok inhales sharply. “Does he seem…okay?”

“A little bruised up now and then,” Adora admits with a frown. “But he seems…generally okay. As okay as one can be in his position, I guess.”

“You said he comes here every weekend?”

“Yup.”

“So what are the odds he’ll be here again tomorrow?”

Adora glances down at her computer screen for the date. Hoseok knows it’s a Friday.

“Almost one hundred percent, I’d say.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok says gratefully, mind already working through his stupid, crazy plan. So stupid and crazy it just might work.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?”

“Where did Yoongi go?”

Hoseok ignores every single one of his friends’ questions. “We need to stay here another night.”

Jungkook opens his mouth and closes it again, looking back and forth between Taehyung and Jimin in confusion. Taehyung looks equally lost, but Jimin just gives Hoseok a concerned look.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea? If we don’t leave tomorrow, we’ll have to drive twice as long the next day to meet up with Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung on time.”

“It’s gross here,” Taehyung adds.

“It might be haunted!”

Hoseok tugs at his hair in frustration. “You all don’t have to stay! Just go ahead without me, I’ll get a taxi or something and meet up with you guys.”

“You can’t ride in a taxi for twelve hours, Hobi, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’ll rent a car, then! I’ll catch a flight to the nearest airport, or fuck, I’ll just go home, but I can’t - I can’t just give up now.” He trails off, feeling his throat start to close up. He rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes and take a few deep, calming breaths to hold the breakdown at bay. Fuck, this is so stupid.

There’s a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder, and when he looks up, Jimin is standing in front of him with a soothing smile. “Okay, hyung. We’ll stay here with you another night. Whatever you need, right guys?”

Taehyung and Jungkook agree enthusiastically, and Hoseok laughs wetly. They’re good kids. He really lucked out in the friend department in this lifetime.

*

That night, Hoseok has a dream wrapped up in a memory.

In the dream/memory, they’re at the beach. The four of them: Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and himself. They’re seventeen, skipping class without their parents’ permission because the weather was nice that day and Seokjin was driving them and they all knew how spontaneous he could be.

Namjoon and Yoongi had complained at first, Hoseok remembers, because there was a review session for a test they had later that week.

”Oh, hush. You two will get the best grades in the class whether you go to that review session or not. You guys could literally teach that class if you wanted to. So we’re going to the beach, you nerds, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Seokjin told them.

Yoongi and Namjoon had looked at each other, wide-eyed and affronted, before the moment was broken by Hoseok bursting into laughter, unable to hold it in. Yoongi glanced over at him before huffing out a resigned breath and settling into his seat, grumbling about Seokjin being a bad influence.

His dream takes place a few hours later, when they’ve already arrived at the beach. Hoseok has his feet buried in the sand, standing just at the waterline, letting the waves lap around his ankles. He closes his eyes and the salt water smells so real, like he’s really there.

“I like it here.” Yoongi is suddenly beside him, squinting into the sunlight.

“Me too.”

“Let’s move somewhere like this someday. Somewhere closer to the beach, so we can be happy more often.”

Hoseok frowns, turning towards Yoongi. “Aren’t you happy, hyung?”

Yoongi hums, reaching out and letting his pinky link with Hoseok’s. “Sometimes I am. I’d be more happy if you and I lived at the beach together, away from everything else.”

“Okay,” Hoseok agrees easily, watching the sun reflect off of the water and across Yoongi’s cheeks. “It’s a plan.”

And that part was all real. Hoseok and Yoongi really did stand at the water that day and agree to move to the beach together someday, because Yoongi said it would make him happy and the thought of Yoongi being anything but happy made Hoseok’s heart hurt.

But then, in his dream, the sky above them suddenly grows dark and heavy. Hoseok looks around the beach, confused, but he can’t see Namjoon and Seokjin playing in the waves anymore. It looks like a huge storm is starting to blow in, making the waves choppy and wild.

Hoseok turns to look at Yoongi, hair blowing wildly around his face. The salty air stings his eyes and blowing sand burns his skin. Yoongi looks back at him, expression twisted in fear, and opens his mouth to scream.

No sound comes out. The water, dark and swirling and menacing, drags Yoongi towards the open sea.

“Yoongi!” Hoseok shouts, but he can’t even hear himself over the howling of the wind. All of the color is sucked out of Yoongi, skin pale and hair as bleached white as it was the day before in the harsh hotel lobby lights. Hoseok tries to step towards him, to grab on and help him, or at the very least join him wherever he’s going, but his feet are sinking deeper and deeper into the sand, unable to move.

The waves crash violently around Yoongi, midnight black water dragging him further and further away.

“Yoongi, come back!” Hoseok shouts desperately. Yoongi shakes his head, eyes wide with fear.

“I can’t swim!”

And then, Yoongi’s pinky slips out of Hoseok’s and the water pulls him under completely.

*

By the time Hoseok makes it down to the hotel bar the next night, Yoongi is already in the same room he was in the night before. He only knows because once he enters the lobby, Adora gives him a significant look and jerks her chin in the direction of the room.

Hoseok waits at the bar, alone this time. Despite all of their whining, Hoseok made the younger three boys stay in the room while he went down to try and catch Yoongi. Dealing with Yoongi was a bit like dealing with a wounded animal at this point, and Hoseok didn’t want the other boys scaring him away. Yoongi was never really comfortable with strangers in the first place, so Hoseok didn’t imagine he was any fonder of them these days.

His beers may as well be water, Hoseok can’t even taste them. Just swallows robotically, checking his phone for the time and glancing over his shoulder at the shut door every few seconds. He’s probably going to end up with a crick in his neck by the end of the night.

It’s hard not to just break the fucking door down and drag Yoongi out himself. Knowing what’s happening just on the other side of some flimsy piece of wood, not doing anything about it, makes Hoseok want to scream. But like with the man from the night before, Hoseok has no idea what repercussions might fall on Yoongi if he were to piss them off.

It still makes his skin itch like he’s covered in fire ants.

This time, when the door down the hallway finally opens, Yoongi comes out with a different man. This one is younger than the man from yesterday, maybe only ten or so years older than them, and he chats with Yoongi as they walk towards the lobby. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans instead of an expensive suit. Yoongi’s lips actually quirk into a smile at one point. They walk side by side, no dragging or pushing like yesterday.

“Hey, uh,” Hoseok steps up to them and falters, Yoongi’s name pressed tightly behind his lips. “Hey,” he repeats lamely. Yoongi stumbles over his own feet, looking back at Hoseok like he’s an actual crazy person on the loose. The young man looks curiously between them.

“Friend of yours?” He asks Yoongi, teasing, but not unkind.

“Yeah, we grew up together, or whatever,” Yoongi grumbles in his real voice. The man looks intrigued now.

“Is that so? Nice to meet you, man,” he reaches out to shake Hoseok’s hand. Hoseok returns the gesture on instinct, trying not to think of the things the man had been doing with those hands in that room only moments before. He’s unnerved by how normal and kind this man seems compared to the one from yesterday, but he has to remind himself that they’re the same. They’re all the same.

“Sure,” Hoseok says, instead of ‘you too’. Yoongi smirks at that.

“You gonna hang around here with your friend?” The guy asks. “Or do you want me to call you a ride?”

Yoongi’s eyes dart between the front doors and Hoseok’s face, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He searches for a few seconds, eyes penetrating into Hoseok’s soul. Finally, he releases a long-suffering sigh.

“I’ll stay here, just for a bit.”

The man nods, lips tugging into an amused grin as he looks between Hoseok and Yoongi.

“Well, you two boys have fun.” He drops a quick kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, making the blonde boy duck his head, a blush crawling up his neck. The man laughs good-naturedly. “Night, Sugar.”

Once they’re alone, Hoseok asks, “Want a drink?”

“You’re buying,” Yoongi informs him, walking over to the bar without waiting for Hoseok’s response. (It was nothing but an embarrassingly endeared grin anyways.)

Yoongi drinks gin and tonics instead of cheap beer now. They always used to drink the crappiest stuff they could afford, hiding in Seokjin’s basement when his dad went away on business trips and his mom had already gone to bed. Hoseok still had that habit, from college parties and still being broke and whatnot. Yoongi’s too young to not drink cheap beer anymore.

But Yoongi drinks harder stuff now.

“Is that even good?” Hoseok asks, wrinkling his nose. Yoongi shrugs and puts the glass to his lips, tilting his head back. Hoseok’s eyes follow, tracking the entire journey of the sip past Yoongi’s lips, down to the way the muscles in his throat contract as he swallows it. Yoongi’s neck is long, sort of elegant. Hoseok always thought that.

“Nope.”

“Then why are you drinking it? I could’ve gotten you a beer or something instead.”

Yoongi shakes his head and his tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of liquor on his top lip. “Too many calories. Gin and tonic may taste like shit, but beer will make you fat.”

“Hey!” Hoseok pouts indignantly. “I drink beer, are you calling me fat? Besides, who cares about your weight, jeez.”

His rant is met with silence. Yoongi ducks his head, expression lost in tendrils of white-blonde. Oh. Right. His clients probably care.

Hoseok hates them all, he really does. He liked when Yoongi cheeks were round and his hips were soft. Those men, they made him too jagged around the edges.

Yoongi clears his throat and takes another sip of his drink, face scrunching up at the tase. “Don’t road trips usually involve more driving and less hanging around shitty hotels in the middle of nowhere? Weren’t you guys supposed to be meeting up with Namjoon and Jin-hyung?”

“Uh, yeah, well, we were pretty tired today, so. We’re still gonna meet up with them tomorrow, though, like we planned.”

Yoongi gives him a look out of the corner of his eye, eyebrow quirked. “Hoseok, did you stay another night in this dump to try and see me again?”

“Would saying yes make me sound like a total creep?”

“Yes.”

“Then… No. No I did not.”

Yoongi covers his face with his hands, but his shoulders shake slightly and Hoseok knows he’s laughing. Now if only Yoongi would take his hands out of the way so Hoseok could see it, that gummy-mouthed, squinty-eyed smile that he missed so much.

“You’re ridiculous,” Yoongi declares, uncovering his face. “Absolutely ridiculous. You know every night you stay here your chance of contracting syphilis like, triples, right?”

Hoseok thinks about the questionable stains on the carpet of their room and the wide array of porno available.

(Yes, he had caved and let the others peruse the selection before bed last night. Taehyung was really too tenacious for his own good.)

“Ugh, gross, hyung,” Hoseok whines. “And to think, I risked contracting an STD just to talk to you again and this is what I get!”

Yoongi’s smile dims. “I’m sorry. I don’t think… This isn’t going to be worth it for you. There’s nothing I want to say.”

The way Yoongi is chewing on his bottom lip sure makes it seem like there’s a lot he wants to say, but he’s forcing himself to bite it back, keep it in. He seems well-practiced at it, like he holds his tongue a lot these days.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I do have one question for you, though.”

Yoongi blinks up at him, eyes flashing with panic. “Hoseok,” his voice is slightly strangled, “I can’t - please don’t ask me why, I can’t -“

Hoseok holds up a hand, stopping Yoongi’s rambling. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask yet!” Yoongi purses his lips, looking down. Hoseok just needs this - just this one question and it’ll have made the extra six hours of driving the next day worth it.

“Okay,” Yoongi says quietly, fingers tangled together tightly on the counter.

“Do you wanna come on our road trip with us?”

That’s clearly not what Yoongi was expecting. He startles so suddenly that his hands accidentally knock his glass over, ice cubes clattering to the floor and clear liquid spilling across the counter.

“Shit!” Yoongi jumps up to avoid getting spilled on, grabbing paper napkins from the holder in front of them and wiping up the mess, apologizing profusely to the bartender who just grunts and rolls his eyes, completely unfazed. They could probably burn the place down and he’d just keep polishing his beer mugs.

There’s a pile of wet napkins sitting in a pile in front of Yoongi now and the back of his neck and tips of his ears are flushed red as he takes his seat again. “Could I have another?” He asks the bartender, voice higher pitched than usual. Hoseok waits patiently as Yoongi just keeps staring at him, then downs his entire drink in one go when it’s placed in front of him.

“I can’t,” he says finally.

“Why not?” Hoseok counters.

“I - I have clients! I have a living to make, Seok, I’m not on spring break or whatever like you and your little pals are!”

“Okay, A - they are not little, and I would not let any of them hear you call them that if I were you, and B - you’re your own boss aren’t you? Who says you can’t take some time off?”

Yoongi gapes at him, mouth working open and closed. “It’s - there are weekly arrangements! I can’t just, I mean, I don’t exactly get vacation days -“

“You do now,” Hoseok says simply. Yoongi presses his lips together and says nothing for a long moment, staring at Hoseok with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Have you ever taken a vacation, hyung?” Hoseok asks more gently. “Taken some time for yourself? I’m sure your clients will survive a week without you, and if they have a problem with it, fuck them, right?”

“I do,” Yoongi quips, mouth apparently working before his brain catches up because when he speaks, he looks surprised at himself.

It’s a terrible joke. It’s so bad. Yoongi’s livelihood is no laughing matter, and yet -

Yoongi is sitting there, all flustered with his red face and wide eyes, and he looks so awkward and so human like Yoongi always did when he got embarrassed and fuck, it’s really Yoongi.

Hoseok cackles, throws his head back and lets it echo throughout the lobby, not caring how loud he’s being. It’s not even that funny, but it’s Yoongi, and it’s all so surreal that Hoseok can’t help the way the laughter keeps bubbling up out of him like a pot boiling over.

Yoongi is watching him, head tilted to the side with an odd look on his face and the corners of his mouth tilted.

“Oh, hyung,” Hoseok pats Yoongi on the shoulder as he catches his breath, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. Your jokes are so terrible.”

“Wasn’t really a joke,” Yoongi grumbles, but his half smile doesn’t fade. Hoseok rests his head on his hand and lets the whole crazy situation sink in. He knows he’s staring and he can’t wipe the stupid grin off his face, but Yoongi doesn’t look away either.

It was a long shot to ask Yoongi to come on their road trip with them. But Yoongi was wrong - even if he did nothing more but sit here at this shitty bar in this creepy hotel and make bad jokes and spill his drinks all over himself, it would be worth it to Hoseok. If Yoongi said goodbye to him again tonight, it would have been worth it to see him again. To hear him laugh and make him blush and call him ‘hyung’.

“Okay.”

Hoseok blinks, pulling his eyes away from where they had been tracing the fine bones of Yoongi’s wrists and up to the other boy’s face. His expression is unreadable, unsure but determined.

“Okay what?”

Yoongi flicks Hoseok on the forehead. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“Ow, hyun - wait, what?” Hoseok freezes with his hand pressed to the middle of his forehead.

“You’re right, my clients can fuck their wives for a week like good husbands, or whatever. They’ll survive without me, and if they decide to end our arrangement, I’m sure I can find plenty of replacements.”

“You mean it?”

“Not like I have much to lose,” Yoongi jokes wryly.

“You - oh my god!” Hoseok has to physically refrain from jumping out of his seat and tackling Yoongi to the ground in excitement, because he thinks that’ll probably be the quickest way to get Yoongi to change his mind about the whole thing. “This is gonna be so much fun, hyung! Namjoon and Jin-hyung are gonna be so happy to see you! It won’t be more than a week at most, I swear, and if for any reason you decide you wanna leave, I’ll bring you back right away, no questions asked.”

He’s practically vibrating out of his skin but he can’t help it. Yoongi actually agreed - Yoongi and Hoseok and Namjoon and Seokjin on a road trip, like old times. But even better than old times, because now Jimin and Taehyung and Jungkook are here, and they’re - shit, they’re probably going to be the most excited out of anyone now that Hoseok thinks about it.

“Your new friends,” Yoongi says slowly, as if he can read Hoseok’s mind. “They - they know that I… I mean, aren’t they going to think that I’m-”

“They think you’re one of the coolest people in the world, don’t worry.”

“And why would they think that?”

“Uh… Internet?”

Luckily, Yoongi just laughs and doesn’t press further. Probably doesn’t need to, because he can read Hoseok’s mind or whatever.

“I guess I should head out and start packing, then.”

Yoongi pulls a large wad of bills out of his pocket and begins counting some out to pay, but Hoseok stops him with a hand over his, pushing the money down and shaking his head.

“You said it yourself, I’m buying.”

“You really don’t have to, I was only joking,” Yoongi protests. “I am more than capable of paying for my own drinks,” he adds, almost defensively.

“I know you can, but I want to buy these for you. As a… Thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

For not leaving me yet.

“For staying a little longer. I think we’ll have even more fun with you on the trip!”

Yoongi blushes, staring at his feet as he stands. “You’ve always thought too highly of me, Hoseokie.” He shakes his head fondly as he says it, but there’s something exposed and skeletal about the words.

Hoseok thinks the world of Yoongi. That’s the perfect amount in his opinion.

Hoseok walks with Yoongi towards the entrance, hands stuffed in his pocket to stop him from doing something awkward like try to take Yoongi’s hand. Years ago, it would have been second nature, but now - things feel different between them, and not just because of their time apart. Hoseok can’t quite put his finger on it, but it doesn’t seem like a hand-holding moment.

“Want me to call you a taxi?” He immediately cringes at his own words. “Uh-“

“Oh my god-“

“-I didn’t mean-“

“-Hoseok!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

Yoongi is giggling, not covering his face this time. His cheeks, though thinner than they used to be, still pulling up with his gummy smile and turning his feline eyes into winged crescents. Suddenly, Hoseok feels like he’s in first grade again, about to present his book report to the entire class. Heart racing, stomach uneasy, palms sweating.

He really hopes he isn’t starting to get sick or something, that would really ruin the road trip.

“I’ll call my own ride,” Yoongi laughs, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. Hoseok stares at it like some kind of time-traveller whose never seen a mobile phone before. He had just assumed Yoongi didn’t have a phone - not just because he always had clients call him taxis, but because Hoseok had tried calling Yoongi almost every day for a whole year after he left, but the line was disconnected. Must be a new phone.

“Can I have an address to pick you up tomorrow?”

Yoongi’s fingers pause over his phone. “I’ll just meet you here.”

For some reason, that makes Hoseok a bit uneasy.

“Why would you do that? It’ll be easier if we just pick you up, won’t it?”

Yoongi shakes his head with a small frown. “You - you can’t. I’m staying with a friend right now, since my last landlord decided to run a meth lab from the basement of our building and burned the whole place down. And Hyuna doesn’t exactly like strange men knowing where she lives - no offense.”

“None taken?”

“Okay then,” Yoongi says, giving his phone a final tap and slipping it back into his pocket. “I’ll meet you back here bright and early tomorrow morning.” He gives a small wave and turns to walk away, but something instinctive inside of Hoseok panics watching Yoongi leave. He reaches out and grabs him by the wrist to stop him.

Yoongi tenses, only briefly, before turning back with questioning eyes.

“You - you’ll really come back tomorrow, won’t you?” Hoseok asks, voice small and hardly sounding like his own. Yoongi’s eyes widen briefly in understanding, before crinkling up with a soft smile. He reaches up his hand that Hoseok isn’t clutching onto for dear life and pats the younger gently on the cheek.

“I promise I’ll come back. Tomorrow,” he amends quickly. “Tomorrow, I’ll come back.”

And that’s enough for now. It has to be.

“Okay,” Hoseok breathes, forcing his fingers to release Yoongi. “Okay,” he says again, with more cheer, “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung! Get ready for the best road trip of your life!”

*

“He’s not coming.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hobi,” Jimin says calmly, lounging back in the lobby chair and scrolling through his phone. “We haven’t even been waiting three minutes yet.”

Jungkook and Taehyung are standing at the bar, not drinking, just trying to engage the bartender in conversation. The man is bald and stoic, looks like he might have been to jail a few times. Right up their alley. They love odd characters, much like themselves, love trying to pick their brains and learn more about them.

And they’re so charming, so earnest and wide-eyed that most people open right up to them.

This time, it looks like they’re more likely to get shivved.

“Do you think he’ll murder Jungkook or Taehyung first?” Jimin muses, unbothered.

“Both, at the same time. He can hold one knife in each hand.”

“I think if he wanted to kill them, he could have just poisoned their drinks the other night, don’t you?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head. Taehyung leans further across the counter, feet leaving the ground, waving his hands excitedly in the bartender’s face. The man’s temple appears to throb with frustration as he takes a step back to avoid Taehyung’s flailing limbs. “Too peaceful. I think he really wants to maim them.”

Jimin purses his lips and rises, snapping his finger in the air agitatedly.

“Hey, idiots! Let’s go!”

Taehyung and Jungkook look back over their shoulder mournfully, but eventually Taehyung scrambles back down from the bar top, giving the bartender sad waves as they walk away. The bartender looks almost sad to see them go. Almost.

“Are we leaving now?” Jungkook looks around the lobby, then peeks under the couch. “Yoongi-hyung isn’t here yet?”

Hoseok feels panic well back up in his chest, looking towards Jimin pleadingly. Jimin puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

“He’ll be here any minute and you two need to gather up your luggage,” Jimin explains. His eyes drift over to the door. “Oh,” he blinks. “I - I think he’s here?”

“Where?” Taehyung jumps around a full 180 degrees and begins waving excitedly. Hoseok holds his breath. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to turn around and find that -

Oh. It actually is him.

Yoongi stands in the entrance, a suitcase by his feet and a backpack slung over his shoulders. He’s in a large flannel that practically swallows his frame and black shorts that show off his lithe, pale legs. There’s a black bucket hat on his head, only the tips of his white hair poking out.

He looks - like a normal guy. He just looks like Yoongi again.

Yoongi lifts a hand and waves awkwardly in response to Taehyung and Jungkook nearly jumping out of their skin with excitement, arms flailing.

“Okay?” Jimin asks. Hoseok can practically hear the I-told-you-so smirk on Jimin’s face, but he can’t pull his gaze away from Yoongi, afraid that if he stops looking he’ll disappear again.

“Yeah,” Hoseok clears his throat. “Yeah,” he repeats more sternly, getting the younger two boys’ attention, “grab your luggage and let’s go.”

Yoongi waits where he is for them, and after making sure nobody left anything behind, they all join up with him by the door.

“Guys, this is Yoongi-hyung.” Hoseok gestures to Yoongi as if they don’t already know. “Hyung, this is Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung,” he introduces, pointing to each of them in turn.

“Hi,” Yoongi lifts his hand in another little wave, just the tips of his fingers poking out of his shirt sleeve.

There’s a pause. Too long of a pause, and Yoongi is starting to fidget, scratching at the back of his neck. Hoseok turns to look back at his friends, confused by their behavior. They’re usually polite kids, friendly and too talkative. But they’re being quiet now.

It’s suspicious.

Jimin has his lips tucked together, clearly fighting back a smile, while Jungkook’s mouth hangs slightly agape and Taehyung has little stars in his eyes, shaking his fists in front of him excitedly.

“Sorry,” Jimin says quickly, when he realizes none of them have spoken and are making Yoongi extremely uncomfortable. “We don’t mean to be rude it’s just, we didn’t realize the other night that you were, um -“

“What?” Hoseok and Yoongi ask at the same time, Hoseok wary and Yoongi slightly defensive.

“You’re so cute!” Taehyung suddenly squeals. Jimin’s poker face breaks and he grins so wide, his eyes disappear. Jungkook still looks slightly in awe. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute, oh my god, Hobi-hyung didn’t tell us how cute you were. Can I hug you? I have to hug you.”

Taehyung drops his luggage and throws his octopus arms completely around a dumb-struck Yoongi, knocking his hat off of his head in the process. Just like when Hoseok touches him lately, Yoongi immediately freezes up in Taehyung’s hold. It takes him a little longer than when Hoseok does it, but he can see in Yoongi’s face the deep breaths he takes to calm himself. Instead of looking terrified now by Taehyung’s affection and his cooing, he just looks vaguely confused and annoyed.

“I’m keeping you forever,” Taehyung whispers reverently, kissing the top of Yoongi’s head. Yoongi meets Hoseok’s eyes.

“This is who you’re choosing to hang out with these days, huh?” He sounds a little amused underneath the deadpan delivery, so Hoseok just shrugs his shoulders with a bright grin and lets Taehyung hold on a little longer. He picks Yoongi’s hat up off the floor and places it firmly back on the elder’s head when Jimin finally wrestles Taehyung away from him.

Technically, he only ‘chose’ Jimin. They were both kinesiology majors with minors in dance, so they had a lot of classes together even though Jimin was a few grades younger. Jimin and Taehyung were pretty much a package deal, and even if Jungkook wasn’t part of that package, fate would have dragged him into their lives anyways since Seokjin had decided to randomly adopt the kid as his protege or whatever.

They met serendipitously when Seokjin was waiting outside of Namjoon’s class, waiting for the other boy, leaned up against the wall with his foot sticking out. The way he tells it, some freshman went running by like a ‘bat out of hell’, not looking where he was going, and tripped right over Seokjin’s foot, books and papers scattering everywhere as he fell.

Jungkook was back on his feet in seconds, face beet red and staring at Seokjin with those enormous eyes of his. Seokjin thought Jungkook was going to apologize or maybe even cry, but to his surprise and utter delight, the kid instead raised his fists in front of him and tried to square up with Seokjin, right there in the middle of the hallway. For some reason, Seokjin decided to keep him.

Yoongi eyes Jungkook now, who possibly has not blinked once since meeting Yoongi, suspiciously. “You’re not gonna do that, too, are you?”

Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut and he shakes his head wildly. “No! I mean, unless, uh, we could just do a quick hug?”

He opens his doe-eyes almost impossibly wider, and Hoseok has been on the receiving end of those eyes far too many times to not predict what happens next.

Yoongi stares at him for a few more seconds, before sighing. “Yeah, whatever, you can - oof!”

True to his word, Jungkook’s hug is quick. He throws his arms around Yoongi’s middle and squeezes once before letting go, but the kid is built like a pro boxer, and just a flex of his muscles is enough to knock the wind out of Yoongi.

“You don’t have to hug me now,” Jimin announces airily. “You’ll hug me later.” It’s not really a question, more of an eerie prediction. (And probably a correct one, at that.)

Taehyung grabs Yoongi’s suitcase before the older boy can and tosses it right at Jungkook, who, to his credit, barely flinches as he catches it. “Here Kookie, carry this for hyung!”

“I can carry my own -“ Yoongi starts to protest, but Taehyung and Jungkook are already racing out the door, screaming ’Shotgun!’ ‘Shotgun times two!’ ‘Shotgun times infinity!’ back and forth, as if they won’t both give up the seat to Jimin anyways. Jimin follows after them at a much more sedate pace, also fully aware that he’s going to get shotgun.

“Having second thoughts?” Hoseok asks nervously. Yoongi still looks a bit shell-shocked, staring out the window where they can clearly see Taehyung trying to leap-frog over Jungkook’s shoulders to beat him to the car. (Hopefully there’s nothing breakable in Yoongi’s bag.) Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin as a combined force tend to have a sort of PTSD effect on people.

Yoongi shakes his head with a disbelieving laugh. “I have no idea what to think right now. They’re like you, but… On crack.”

Hoseok’s jaw drops indignantly. “They are nothing like me what are you talking about?”

Yoongi just claps him on the shoulders and follows after the others with a skeptical hum. Hoseok scrambles for the straps of his own bag, following after Yoongi at what he likes to think is a very dignified jog.

“Hyung, seriously! You don’t think - hey, why are you laughing? Hyung?”

Yoongi just laughs and opens the door to Hoseok’s old truck, throwing his backpack in ahead of him and climbing in, not even complaining when Jungkook and Taehyung end up squeezed on either side of him. They bicker across his lap and Jimin turns on the radio, plugging in his phone and putting on something poppy and upbeat. Hoseok rolls the windows down, letting in the fresh air, starts the car and adjusts his mirrors.

There isn’t usually anything in his line of sight when he checks the reflection in his rearview mirror, but today there’s Yoongi, with his backpack hugged to his chest, rolling his eyes at Jungkook and Taehyung. Hoseok’s startles when Yoongi looks up and meets his eyes in the mirror. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring so long. Instead of chiding him for it, Yoongi just lets his lips spread into a slow, easy grin.

Hoseok beams, pulling his sunglasses out of the middle console and placing them on his face with a flourish.

“Alright!” He shouts in a thick accent, making the younger boys giggle. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Yoongi groans at the bad pun and Jungkook reaches forward to flick him on the back of his head, but Hoseok just laughs. It’s been a long time since his chest felt so light.

It’s been a long time since he looked behind him, and Yoongi was right there.

*

Somewhere around two hours into the ride, Yoongi reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

Hoseok tenses, sharing a look with Jimin out of the side of his eye. He doesn’t want to tell Yoongi what to do, but he also doesn’t want him making his car smell like smoke, or choke them all out in the confined space.

Yoongi, however, doesn’t light the cigarette. Hoseok keeps waiting, can see the way the younger two are eyeing him curiously, too. But Yoongi never lights it, just keeps it tucked between his lips, rolling it back and forth with his tongue. (Hoseok does not almost kill them all because he gets so distracted by watching it in the mirror. It’s because of something else. A bee, probably.)

“Hyung,” Jungkook asks boldly, having grown more comfortable with Yoongi over the past few hours. “What’s the point of a cigarette if you don’t even light it?”

Yoongi catches the cigarette between two fingers, holding it up between his and Jungkook’s faces and inspects it thoughtfully.

“Oral fixation,” he says with a wicked grin, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook as he places the cigarette back between his lips, letting the tip of his tongue curl around it. Jungkook flushes beet red, gaze flickering between Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes like he’s watching a ping pong match.

Taehyung laughs delightedly and reaches for Yoongi’s bag.

“That’s so cool, hyung! Can I have one, too?”

Yoongi pulls his bag away.

“Nuh uh, it’s a terrible habit.”

“You don’t even smoke them!”

“It’s bad for your image,” Yoongi informs him primly. Taehyung sits back and pouts. Jimin snorts under his breath.

“What?” Hoseok asks, too quiet for the backseat to hear.

“I think they’re actually starting to grow on him,” Jimin mutters.

Hoseok looks back in the mirror, watching Taehyung take strands of Yoongi’s hair between his fingers and ask him if he’s ever considered dying it a pretty color, like pink or a minty green. Jungkook nods in agreement, throwing out weird color combinations, suggesting Yoongi dye half of his head one color and the other half something different. Yoongi doesn’t push Taehyung’s hands away, doesn’t shush Jungkook’s weird ramblings like a lot of people tend to do. He just sits patiently between them, nodding along as best he can, even granting them a gummy smile or two.

“Yeah, maybe they are.”

“He’s starting to grow on them, too,” Jimin says pointedly, even more quiet this time. Hoseok furrows his eyebrows and looks at Jimin in confusion. Jimin’s voice gets even lower so that Hoseok has to lean in to hear what he says. “They’re not going to take it well if he leaves again after all this. Those two get attached easily, you know that.”

Jimin has a slightly troubled look on his face. He’s always so protective of the younger two. Not unlike Seokjin was with Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi growing up.

“What do you mean ‘if’ he leaves again?”

Jimin hums, tapping on his phone so that a new song starts playing, bright vocals and hopeful tone. “You never know what could happen when you put seven guys in the middle of nowhere together.”

“That was vaguely terrifying.”

Jimin shrugs and turns to look out the window, singing along to the song under his breath happily.

Hoseok glances up in his mirror again and sees Taehyung and Jungkook laughing with their arms thrown around Yoongi, squishing him between them. Yoongi is obviously trying to hold back a laugh and failing hopelessly.

The rational part of Hoseok’s brain that locked Yoongi away for so long to save him from feeling the hurt is screaming at him to shut down the hope blooming in his chest. But his heart is telling him that this is the way it was meant to be all along.

*

“Is it my turn on aux yet?” Jungkook whines, kicking lightly at the back of Hoseok’s seat. “Jimin’s music is getting too emo for me.”

“They’re called ballads.”

“Okay, great, you can be DJ my funeral.”

Jimin turns in his seat and cuts Jungkook with a dangerous glare.

“Might be sooner than you think.”

Jungkook swallows audibly.

“How about we let Yoongi-hyung have the aux?” Hoseok suggests before he has a homicide on his hands and blood on his seats. “He’s the oldest, and you’ve always had good taste in music, hyung.”

“Oh, sure,” Yoongi says, surprised, “if everyone doesn’t mind, I guess?”

Taehyung cheers and Jungkook sulkily sits back in his seat.

“You can help me pick the songs,” Yoongi whispers to Jungkook, not very quietly at all because they all clearly hear it. Jimin rolls his eyes, but hands over the aux cord anyways. Jungkook’s face splits into a bright grin, and for a second there Hoseok is pretty sure Jungkook is going to plant a big sloppy kiss right on Yoongi’s mouth.

“Hobi-hyung said you used to rap, do you have any of your stuff on your phone?” Jimin suggests.

“Seok-ah!” Yoongi’s lips fall into a pout. “Why would you tell them about that?”

“You’re so good, Yoongi!” Hoseok defends himself. “What are you embarrassed about? I love your mixtape.”

Taehyung practically climbs into Yoongi’s lap to get a glimpse at his phone. “You have a mixtape? Like, a real mixtape?”

Yoongi sighs heavily and shoots Hoseok a look that clearly reads ‘traitor’.

“I don’t have anything on my phone, but it’s probably still on SoundCloud,” Yoongi relents.

It is. Hoseok knows this because he listens to it every once in a while.

Because he loves rap and Yoongi is good at it. Great at it, even. So it makes perfect sense that it’s his most played album.

Yoongi scrunches up his nose as he scrolls through his phone, and then suddenly there’s a very similar beat pumping out of the sound system, a raspy voice with a slurred accent rolling out rhymes. Hoseok nods his head along to the music, mouths the lyrics along with Yoongi because this is one of his favorite songs and he’s pretty sure Yoongi can only see the top half of his face in the rearview mirror.

Jimin can probably see him though, and Taehyung, too. Those two are cheeky enough to call him out for it in front of Yoongi, though, and the car remains suspiciously quiet.

“Uh, I can turn this off,” Yoongi offers awkwardly after a few verses. “Someone else can have aux, I don’t wanna -“

Taehyung reaches out quick as lighting and stops Yoongi from unplugging his phone. Jimin turns around slowly and the two of them meet eyes, as Yoongi’s voice continues to pour from the speakers.

“Jimin,” Taehyung says in a voice far too calm to be natural for him. “Is Yoongi-hyung telling us right now that he’s Agust D?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, equally calm. “Yes, I think he is.”

“You guys know who I am?”

“You guys know who he is?” Hoseok parrots, just as confused as Yoongi.

“Yes!” Taehyung exclaims, calm facade forgotten. “Holy shit, Jiminie and I used to get high to your mixtape, like, every night freshman year. You’re really Agust D, oh my god, Agust D is the cutest person I’ve ever met in my life. I did not see that coming.”

“What - How did you guys even find this thing? I’m pretty sure Namjoon, Seok-ah, and Jin-hyung are the only people who ever listened to it.”

“Namjoon was the host of our college’s late night radio program!” Jimin jumps in, looking just as awestruck as Taehyung. “He used to play at least one Agust D song every night.”

Yoongi blinks, lips parting. “He - He did?”

“He said it was his favorite album ever, even though listening to it made him kind of sad - ouch! Jimin!” Taehyung rubs at the spot on his thigh that Jimin reached back and savagely pinched. Probably hard enough to bruise, knowing Jimin. Taehyung scowls at Jimin. Then he sees the look on Yoongi’s face, lips twisted unhappily. “Oh…” he trails off guiltily.

Yoongi stares down at his lap, teeth biting into his lip. Taehyung looks horrified, like he’s just kicked a puppy. Jungkook hesitantly reaches out and covers Yoongi’s hands with his, making Yoongi look up at him surprised. Hoseok wishes he wasn’t driving so he could climb into the backseat and hold Yoongi’s hands, too.

“It’s my favorite album, too,” he says instead, because it’s the closest thing to holding Yoongi’s hand he can get right now.

“Even if it made you sad?”

“It didn’t make me sad,” Hoseok says firmly. “It made me happy to think about all the time we spent crowded around your computer, eating junk food and listening to every song over and over until we fell asleep on the floor with the music still blasting all night long. Remember?”

Yoongi smiles, giving Hoseok a grateful look. “Of course. I remember everything.” Then, he pats Taehyung affectionately on top of the head so that he’ll stop looking like he’s about to cry and leans his head back against the seat, closing his eyes.

He doesn’t open them again for a really long time, but Hoseok knows he isn’t asleep. He wonders what Yoongi is thinking about, even as his deepest thoughts fill the car through his shitty speaker system.

*

The road in front of Hoseok doesn’t seem to be getting any further or any closer to him after a while of staring at a fixed point on the horizon.

They all started to lose energy around hour five of the drive, and without the constant bickering from the backseat and Jimin’s lazy singing, Hoseok is starting to zone out. Highway hypnosis, or whatever it was they warned them about in drivers ed.

He rubs his eyes and shifts up straighter in his seat to try and refocus his attention on the road, but finds it slipping again.

“Why don’t we pull over soon, hyung? We can get some snacks and someone else can take a turn driving.” Jimin suggests, perceptive as ever.

Hoseok takes the exit for the next rest stop, getting out of the car and stretching out his cramped muscles. “How much longer?” He groans, reaching his arms as high as he can above his head, feeling the pop of the joints in his back.

“Should be six hours if we don’t hit any traffic,” Jimin answers, following Hoseok out of the car.

“Want any snacks?” Jungkook asks, he, Taehyung and Jimin already heading for the small building past the gas pumps.

Hoseok waves them off. “Just get me whatever. Yoongi-hyung likes fruit,” he adds. Yoongi nods at him appreciatively, coming over to stand with Hoseok, leaning against the side of the car and tipping his face back into the sunlight while Hoseok fills the tank with gas. Yoongi tugs his hat off and ruffles his hair with his fingers.

“Why blonde?” Hoseok blurts. Yoongi tugs at his bangs and lets his eyes slipped closed again.

“Was different. Needed to be different.”

“You mean you needed to look different?” Hoseok presses carefully. He doesn’t want to ask Yoongi outright what happened, not if Yoongi isn’t ready to talk about it. That would risk scaring Yoongi away, and Hoseok’s not sure he could handle Yoongi walking away now.

But his curiosity is a visceral thing, gets the best of him when it comes to Yoongi.

“No,” Yoongi frowns without opening his eyes. “Needed to be different. If I still looked like me, I’d still be me. Needed to be someone else.”

It’s more information than Hoseok was expecting to get.

“You are still you,” he tells Yoongi gently. Yoongi cracks one eye open and glances over at him briefly.

“Right now I am, with you. But not always.”

Hoseok remembers the voice Yoongi had used with the older man the other day, the sickly sweet tone. The raw, bitten skin of Yoongi’s bottom lip, torn from not saying the things he really wants to, when the Yoongi that Hoseok used to know always said everything on his mind, regardless of the repercussions.

“Oh,” Hoseok says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Because ’stay with me always and never be anyone else again’ didn’t seem like an appropriate thing to say at the moment. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind that Hoseok doesn’t say any more, he’s always liked the quiet anyways.

“We got snacks!” Taehyung crows triumphantly as the younger three return, raising his plastic bags like a nomadic hunter coming home to his tribe with a bounty of food.

“I call not driving!” Jungkook declares loudly, dashing for the car and throwing himself into the backseat. Taehyung curses, but he’s weighed down by all of the food in his arms, and Jimin is small and quick, retaking his shotgun seat.

Which only leaves Yoongi and Taehyung.

“I’ll drive,” Taehyung sighs heavily.

“Wow,” Hoseok whistles low, impressed. If it had been between Taehyung and anyone else, he would’ve fought tooth and nail to avoid driving. “What kind of spell did you cast on those kids? Did you drug them or something?”

Yoongi winks at him as he pulls the door open, leaning back to whisper conspiratorially, “You can’t let them know you think they’re cute. That’s the secret.”

Oh, well sure, when Yoongi puts it like that it sounds so easy. There’s no secret, Yoongi’s just charmed them to hell and back and he doesn’t even realize it.

“Wait a minute,” Hoseok climbs in quickly after him once the tank is filled. “You think they’re cute?”

“Who’s cute?” Jungkook asks, cheeks puffed up with candies. Ah, that’s right. They are cute.

Yoongi just laughs, ruffling Jungkook’s hair and stealing one of his sweets.

“Definitely not you,” Yoongi says very seriously.

“Here’s your fruit, Yoongi-hyung. And some chips for you, Hobi-hyung. We got a bunch of flavors, so just pick whatever you want.” Jimin passes one of the plastic bags into the backseat.

“Thanks, Jimin.” Yoongi grants the younger boy a lighting-quick grin, leaving Jimin with a pleased flush to his cheeks.

“Oh, wait,” Taehyung exclaims as he’s pulling back onto the highway, reaching for the bag at Jimin’s feet. Jimin picks it up so that Taehyung can reach inside without taking his eyes off the road. He tosses whatever’s in there onto Yoongi’s lap, grinning at him in the rearview mirror. “I got those for you, hyung.”

Hoseok and Yoongi stare down at the package in Yoongi’s lap.

“For your ‘oral fixation’,” Taehyung elaborates, boxy smile taking over his face with glee. Yoongi picks up the bag of lollipops, turning it over in his hands.

“Thanks, brat,” Yoongi says, voice catching slightly as he leans forward to tug at Taehyung’s earlobe. If Hoseok didn’t know any better, he'd say that Yoongi was a little choked up.

Yoongi passes out lollipops to each of them; a strawberry kiwi one for Taehyung, a cherry for Jungkook, watermelon for Jimin, and cotton candy for Hoseok. Yoongi picks out a white one for himself, inspecting the wrapper for a flavor.

“It’s a mystery flavor,” Hoseok explains. “You don’t know what it’s gonna be until you try it.”

Yoongi scrunches up his nose.

“What if it’s a bad flavor?”

Hoseok pops his own lollipop back into his mouth.

“You won’t know if it’s good or not until you try it, hyung. It might be the best lollipop ever, but how will you know if you don’t give it a chance?”

Yoongi glances between the lollipop and Hoseok a few times, a smile starting to spread across his face. He unwraps the mystery lollipop and sticks it in his mouth. After a few seconds, his eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh! It’s like an orange creamsicle.”

“You loved those when we were kids!” Hoseok exclaims excitedly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi gives him an odd look. “I loved - yeah. Yeah, you were right. The mystery is worth the risk.”

Hoseok beams at Yoongi’s words, doing a little victory dance that makes Yoongi roll his eyes. Jungkook joins in on his little dance because Jungkook can’t stand to be left out of fun things, and neither of them stop wiggling and laughing until Yoongi joins in, sticking out his orange tongue at them and making Hoseok wish more than ever that he could turn back time and he and Yoongi could be burden-less kids catching frogs at the pond again.

*

“Hyung? Wake up, we’re here.”

Hoseok’s vision is tinged a blurry orange as his eyes blink blearily into focus. They’d been driving so long, the sun was finally setting around them. Hoseok lets his eyes drift closed again, shifting to wrap his arm tighter around the heavy warmth pressing against the side of his body. The sun is already setting anyways, maybe he can just stay here, in the back of the car, and sleep until it comes back up. He’s comfortable and warm, and moving would just be so much of a hassle with Yoongi pressed against him like this -

Wait.

Hoseok’s eyes open again, suddenly much more awake. Jimin is turned around in the front seat, looking back at him with a knowing smirk.

“Ah, there you are. I’ll leave it up to you to wake Sleeping Beauty, okay?” Jimin climbs out of the car, joining Jungkook and Taehyung at the trunk, unloading all of their supplies, muffled laughter filtering into the car.

Hoseok peeks down at Yoongi cuddled up against him and his to physically restrain himself from having a Taehyung moment.

Because fuck, Yoongi really is that cute, isn’t he?

He’s got both arms wrapped around Hoseok’s bicep, clinging to him like Taehyung does to everything within arms’ reach when he’s asleep. The bucket hat has slipped off his head, and his blonde head rests heavy on Hoseok’s shoulder. His lips are slightly parted, breathing deep and even, eyelashes splayed across his cheekbones.

Hoseok has had plenty of sleepovers with Yoongi over the years, so waking up to find him sleeping wasn’t really a new experience. But - it’s been so long and Hoseok is so happy to have him back he feels like there’s a hundred butterflies fluttering around in his chest.

“Yoongs?” Hoseok traces a line from the center of Yoongi’s forehead down to the tip of his nose, then follows it back up, then down again. Yoongi likes to be woken gently, and over the years Hoseok found this was the easiest way to do it.

Yoongi’s nose scrunches and he turns his face, burrowing further against Hoseok’s side with an unintelligible grumble.

“Come on, hyung,” Hoseok tries again, this time letting his index finger trail up and down Yoongi’s arm. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead, the day isn’t over yet.”

“Mmmm, Seok?” Yoongi mumbles. His grip on Hoseok’s arm suddenly tightens, vice-like. “Seok, no. Don’t… Don’t wanna…”

“You have to get up, hyung,” Hoseok laughs, but it dies in his throat when Yoongi makes a pained sound, fingernails digging into the skin of Hoseok’s bicep.

“Don’t wanna,” he repeats, sounding panicked. “Don’t wanna… go… Seok-ah.”

Hoseok’s blood runs cold when he realizes what’s happening. Yoongi’s having a nightmare. He’s less gentle now, shaking Yoongi by the shoulders and pushing him away.

“Yoongi, it’s just a dream. I’m right here, Yoongi, come on, wake up.”

He grips his shoulders tight and shakes hard.

“No!” Yoongi’s eyes fly open, bloodshot and haunted, with a sharp inhale, hands coming up to clutch at Hoseok’s wrists. He blinks rapidly a few times, watching Hoseok carefully as if he might vanish. Hoseok just holds him steady by the shoulders, nothing but the sound of the kids outside and Yoongi’s harsh breathing between them.

“Are you…okay?” Hoseok finally asks when Yoongi’s breathing has returned to normal. Yoongi blinks a few more times before releasing Hoseok’s wrists and shrugging off his hands, nodding once.

“Yeah, I’m fine. All that candy must have given me a bad dream or something.”

He grabs his hat off the seat next to him and tugs it firmly onto his head, climbing out of the car and shutting the door without another word.

Hoseok stays in the car, ears picking out Yoongi’s gravelly mumbles joining the other voices outside. Hoseok may not always be as intuitive as Jimin, but he’d have to be an idiot not to realize what Yoongi’s nightmare was about.

Yoongi hadn’t wanted to leave. He hadn’t wanted to leave him.

The older boy is staring into the trunk with wary eyes when Hoseok finally gets out of the car. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin are unloading all of the gear around him, passing things over his head as Yoongi stubbornly stands in the middle of them all.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

Yoongi looks up at Hoseok’s voice.

“I thought this was a road trip.”

“It is?” Hoseok walks up to him, confused.

“No,” Yoongi draws out the word slowly, gesturing into the trunk at at the supplies being passed around him. “This is a camping trip. I don’t camp.”

“It’s still a road trip, we’re gonna drive to a bunch of different places! But camping is much cheaper than staying in hotels every night, and we all still need to buy books next semester.”

“Where - How are we going to shower?” Yoongi exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. Hoseok peers into the trunk, pulling out the item he was looking for and holding it in front of Yoongi’s face.

“We have a bucket!”

“A bucket.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok nods, probably more enthusiastically than necessary, trying to make the shower situation seem like a lot more fun than it really is. “We have a shower bucket!”

“A shower bucket.” Yoongi repeats again, staring at the blue plastic thing like it’s going to bite him. “How does that even work?”

Hoseok lowers the bucket to his side and shrugs. “You pour some water over your head, rub in the shampoo, and then dump some more water to rinse it out.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything for an anxiety-inducing amount of time, just stands there, staring at Hoseok with a blank expression on his face. The kids already have most of the trunk unloaded and have begun to set up a fire and a few of the tents, their voices filtering through the wind and just barely keeping Hoseok from panicking.

But he remembers his promise.

“If… If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll take you back now. I know you didn’t exactly sign up for camping, or shower buckets.”

Yoongi blinks at him, corners of his mouth tugging down at his bites at his lip. His eyes flit over Hoseok’s shoulder towards the campsite, then back to Hoseok’s face again.

“I’ll stay.”

Hoseok feels like a truckload of bricks has just been lifted from his chest.

“Really? Our bucket didn’t scare you away?”

Yoongi laughs breezily and grabs the bucket out of Hoseok’s hand, shaking it lightly in Hoseok’s face.

“I hate your bucket, I really do. You know indoor plumbing was invented for a reason?” He sighs and tosses the bucket back into the trunk. “But, it isn’t worth ruining your trip over. Or the twelve hour drive back.”

Hoseok beams, can feel it stretching across his face with giddy relief. Yoongi’s not leaving - not yet.

“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook is pointing into the distance, jumping up and down excitedly. “They’re here!”

Yoongi goes approximately six shades paler in a split second.

“Shit - shit, do they hate me?”

“Do they - what? Jin-hyung and Namjoon?”

“Yes,” Yoongi stresses, wrapping his arms around himself in what appears to be an effort to disappear. “Tell me what to expect. Do they hate me? Are they going to try to physically attack me? Should I have an escape plan prepared?”

Hoseok honestly has no idea what to expect. The three of them have spent the past two years gracefully avoiding talking about Yoongi together. Obviously they all missed him quietly, in their own ways (Hoseok, in denial, Namjoon, sharing his music with the world, Seokjin, adopting new dongsaengs to dote on), but they never missed him together.

“They don’t hate you,” Hoseok says firmly, because that much he knows for a fact. “I don’t really know what to expect though. But I guess we’re about to find out either way.”

Seokjin’s sleek white car rumbles down the gravel road, the crunching under the tires growing louder as he approaches, until the car slows to a stop and the engine cuts. Hoseok raises a hand to wave to his friend, turning back to ask Yoongi if he wants to walk over to greet them with him. He finds Yoongi half-hidden behind him, the skin of his thumb caught between his teeth and his eyes wide.

Hoseok puts his hand down and reaches back, grabbing Yoongi’s free hand and letting the elder boy stay partially hidden behind his back.

The three younger boys are crowded around the car and all begin talking excitedly at once the moment Seokjin steps out, broad shoulders first, then long, lean legs that raise him above the other three gracefully. Namjoon steps out of the other side of the car, dimpled smile on his face, catching Jimin in a quick hug.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Seokjin raises his hands, trying to quiet the younger boys down. “I only have two ears, y’know? One at a time!”

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin all start talking again right away. Seokjin holds his hands over his ears and shouts half-heartedly at them to stop trying to make him go deaf early. He’s too distracted, laughing and shoving at Jungkook who tosses light punches at him, to really hear what any of them are saying, or to notice Hoseok and Yoongi across the way.

Namjoon, though.

Namjoon notices.

There’s a beat where it feels like the whole world stills. Namjoon’s eyes casually pass over them once, raising his hand to Hoseok in a friendly wave, before his entire body goes still, neck almost snapping as he quickly turns back and his eyes zero in on Yoongi.

Yoongi’s fingers grip his painfully, but Hoseok just lets him keep holding on.

“Joon-ah, did you grab my bag?” Seokjin asks over the sounds of the other three still shouting for his attention. “Joon-ah? What’s the matter with -“ Seokjin cuts himself off, jaw dropping to the ground.

Finally, the younger three go quiet.

Yoongi steps forward so that he’s even with Hoseok now, and with trembling fingers pulls the hat off of his head. Seokjin audibly gasps.

There probably isn’t a force in heaven or hell that could’ve stopped Seokjin from dropping everything in his arms and crossing the campsite in what felt like literal microseconds to pull Yoongi into his arms.

“Yoongi-yah, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin mutters thickly into Yoongi’s dark roots, tears already starting to stream down his face. “Where have you been? I was so worried, I’m so glad you’re safe, oh, Yoongi-yah.”

For the first time since Hoseok’s seen him again, Yoongi doesn’t give pause before grabbing onto Seokjin’s shirt and letting himself be crushed in his hyung’s embrace. He lets a choked sob and Seokjin holds him tighter, broader frame wrapping around Yoongi’s like a shield from the world. Seokjin would, if he could. Take the brunt of anything the world threw at Yoongi.

Yoongi didn’t shown weakness like this in front of Hoseok, in front of anybody really. He was always so obsessed with coming off as strong for others, but with Seokjin - always with Seokjin - Yoongi let himself be small.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so s-sorry.”

“Shhh,” Seokjin pets Yoongi’s hair and ignores the tears soaking into the collar of his shirt. “It’s okay now, whatever happened before, everything is okay now.”

It’s really not okay. Hoseok knows it’s not and Yoongi knows it’s not, but it’s hard not to believe it when Seokjin says it. He has a way of giving power to words.

When he’s calmed and Seokjin is finally ready to let him go, Yoongi is passed immediately into Namjoon’s arms. The two of them don’t say anything at all, they’ve never really needed to. Namjoon and Yoongi have always been able to express themselves without words to each other.

“We were trying to tell you, hyung,” Jungkook huffs when the teary reunion’s ended and the younger three deem it safe to join them.

”That’s what you were trying to tell me? The three of you, banned from delivering any news, ever.”

“You just couldn’t hear us because you’re losing your hearing old man,” Jungkook retorts, sticking out his tongue.

Yoongi points a warning finger in the younger’s face. “Ah, show your hyung respect! Do you want to lose your shower bucket privileges?”

Jungkook’s jaw drops indignantly. “What! Can you do that? Can he do that?”

The younger’s complaints are ignored as the rest of the boys burst into laughter. Yoongi tries to keep up the stern look on his face, but it crumbles around the edges until he’s grinning, bright and clean.

Hoseok laughs so hard, he loses his balance and falls against Yoongi, out of habit or maybe gravitational pull. Seokjin’s laugh, high and squeaky pierces pleasantly through the air and he throws his long arms around Yoongi and Hoseok both, while Jimin rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder and giggles, and Taehyung catches Jungkook in a headlock and ruffles his hair as the youngest shrieks indignantly.

The fading orange sunset bleeds into darkness as night claims the day, but to Hoseok, it doesn’t feel like an ending at all.

*

“You’ve had Yoongi-yah to yourself long enough, he’s sharing our tent tonight,” Seokjin declares with no room for argument that night.

He fixes Hoseok with a pointed stare, as if daring him to disagree. Seokjin and Namjoon hadn’t asked any questions so far, seemed to be able to sense the fragile atmosphere around Yoongi, but it didn’t stop them from shooting Hoseok countless ‘we are going to talk about this later’ looks.

They whipped up some quick ramen over the fire, everyone too tired from the day’s drive for anything more time-consuming than that, and agreeing to head to sleep early so they could get a head-start the next day.

“Oh, I don’t actually - I mean, I didn’t know we were camping, so I don’t have -“

“We have extras of everything, hyung,” Namjoon assures Yoongi smoothly, with an arm around his shoulders as he leads him to the tent on the far left of the campfire that he and Seokjin share. Yoongi glances back at Hoseok over his shoulder, mouths a simple, ‘goodnight’, and Hoseok tries not to miss him the second he’s out of sight.

Really, he tries.

“You all love him a lot, huh?” Jimin whispers, rolling over in his sleeping bag to face Hoseok. He can hear Taehyung and Jungkook giggling in their tent next to his and Jimin’s, the incessant chirping of bugs outside.

“Yeah.” Hoseok imagines the other three tangled up together in their own tent, Seokjin and Namjoon on either side of Yoongi, curled around him like parentheses. Yoongi, warm and happy and safe. Falling asleep surrounded by people who love him. He wonders how long it’s been since Yoongi slept that way. “We would do anything for him.”

“He’s lucky.” Jimin yawns and snuggles further into his sleeping bag, switching off the lamp between them. “We all are, to have each other. Don’t you think?”

“We’re lucky,” Hoseok repeats, because it feels like right now, they are.

*

Even though Seokjin was the oldest, Namjoon was most often in charge of their group.

This wasn’t just true now, but had been true since they were kids. At first, Seokjin would pout and complain about it and petulantly refuse to do what Namjoon said until Yoongi pinched him really hard and made him relent. Eventually, though, Seokjin realized that Namjoon actually had the best ideas and was smart enough, even at six years old, to figure out how to make his ideas really happen.

The road trip had been Namjoon’s idea. He planned the entire thing out months ago, keeping their route right along the coast, searching online to make sure they hit all of the most beautiful spots to lay their campground and simply enjoy being with each other, removed from the stress of school, their families, and jobs.

It was really a testament to how far they’ve come that instead of whining and stomping his feet, Seokjin simply wound his arms around Namjoon’s neck and listened obediently as he explained everything to them all, crowded into his and Namjoon’s apartment one afternoon.

There was a good reason they'll trusted Namjoon to make the plans. Today’s spot is even more beautiful in the early morning light than it was in the evening sun when they arrived last night.

There are rocky cliffs surrounding the clearing they’ve made their campsite in, a path that leads down to a beach with still water with the occasional rolling wave. The sky is the bluest Hoseok has seen it in weeks, after a spell of rainy, dreary weather had passed through. But it’s sunny now, mild enough that he can wear a cardigan over his pajamas and not be too cold.

He wraps his arms tight around himself and squints into the sunlight, raising a hand to shield his eyes as he scans the surrounding area. Seokjin is at the campfire with Taehyung and Jungkook crowded around him trying to help with breakfast. They all have bed head and blurry edges and it makes Hoseok’s heart fond.

Jimin was still asleep when Hoseok got up, and he didn’t know where Namjoon was, but he finally spots Yoongi sitting on an overturned log, one of Namjoon’s extra blankets around his shoulders, looking out towards the water.

“Morning, hyung. How’d you sleep?”

Hoseok drops onto the log next to Yoongi and the older boy passes one corner of his blanket to Hoseok so he can wrap it around both of their shoulders.

“Good. Well, pretty good. Has Namjoon always snored? I swear he didn’t used to snore.”

Hoseok laughs and pats Yoongi’s thighs consolingly, lets his hand rest there because Yoongi’s still in his sleep shorts and his skin is warm.

“I don’t remember, honestly. I was always too distracted at sleepovers by Jin-hyung trying to draw a mustache on me in my sleep.”

“He didn’t ‘try’, Seok, he succeeded. Like, every time. You literally sleep like a dead person.”

Hoseok pouts and nudges Yoongi’s shoulder with his own. “You’re one to talk! How come he never drew mustaches on you? You’re an even heavier sleeper than me!”

“He valued his life,” Yoongi says, very seriously.

“He’s the worst.”

“Yeah, he really is,” Yoongi sighs, a happy little exhale.

“What do you wanna do today?”

Yoongi shrugs, tugging the blanket closer around him.

“Doesn’t matter to me, it’s your trip.”

“It’s your trip now, too,” Hoseok insists. If this is the only vacation Yoongi’s gotten in two years, Hoseok wants it to be the best vacation he’s ever had.

“I’d be happy with anything, really Seok-ah. Don’t worry so much about me, yeah?”

Well. Fat chance of that happening.

“Great,” Hoseok fake groans, “now the kids are going to choose what we do. They’re probably gonna wanna go cliff-diving or see who can get hit the hardest in the head with a rock without passing out, or something else insane that will kill off our brain cells.”

Yoongi pats him on the head. “You’d lose the rock game.”

“What? Why do you say that?”

Yoongi smiles, letting his fingertips brush across Hoseok’s forehead, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Too soft.”

“‘m not soft,” Hoseok grumbles, feeling his cheeks warm as Yoongi’s fingers trail down his cheeks before resting in his own lap. The sun must be strong today or something. He might be getting a sunburn on his face.

“You are, almost annoyingly so. If you were anyone else, I’d probably hate you for being so soft.”

“Thanks?”

Yoongi lets out a yawn and rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, fine blonde hairs tickling at his cheek.

“Don’t mention it.”

Hoseok doesn’t move his hand from Yoongi’s leg and Yoongi doesn’t say anything about it. Doesn’t say anything for a while, really. Just sits there with his head leaning on Hoseok and the sun slowly starting to creep up over the horizon.

“I’d like to just sit here for a little while,” Yoongi answers his question finally, voice so quiet it nearly gets lost in the breeze. Hoseok glances down and finds Yoongi’s eyes have slipped closed and he can’t see the way the sun is making him shine, so Hoseok appreciates it for the both of them.

“No skull crushing?”

A huff of laughter passes Yoongi’s lips.

“Not yet.”

Ten minutes later, Seokjin interrupts their peace, calling out, “Hey, you two! Breakfast will be ready in five minutes, and if you aren’t here, I won’t stop Jungkook from eating your portions!”

Yoongi sighs and lifts his head from Hoseok’s shoulder, blinking slowly into the sunlight. He looks back over his shoulder towards the campsite and stills. Hoseok follows his line of sight over to the campfire.

Nothing looks out of the ordinary to him - Jimin is on Taehyung’s lap who is on Jungkook’s lap, the food that’s already cooked looks delicious, there’s instant coffee prepared, Namjoon is standing behind Seokjin with his arms wrapped around his waist and his lips pressed to the side of his neck -

Oh.

“Uhh,” he begins eloquently.

“They’re together, aren’t they?” Yoongi asks, not taking his eyes off of the pair. He doesn’t sound upset - he doesn’t sound anything, really. Blank. Neutral. Like he always is when he’s hiding something.

“Yeah. You don’t sound that surprised?”

Yoongi purses his lips. “I heard them kiss goodnight after they thought I was asleep.”

“Gross,” Hoseok sympathizes. “It’s been almost a year now, actually. They’re really good together,” Hoseok feels the need to add when Yoongi still doesn’t react. “Like, they balance each other out really well and they make each other happy and they laugh at each other’s bad jokes.”

“Oh,” Yoongi turns around quickly, eyes widening. “No, I don’t - I’m not upset or anything, I’m happy for them, really,” he promises. “They deserve each other, they’re two of the best people I’ve ever met. I just wasn’t really expecting it, I guess. I always thought it would be -“ he presses his lips together, eyes darting away from Hoseok and back over towards the others.

’Me and you,’ Hoseok thinks he hears the words echoing like ghosts in the silence.

No, Yoongi was probably going to say he always thought it would be himself and Namjoon. They always did have that silent, comfortable way with each other that Hoseok and Seokjin could never penetrate.

“So, they’re…?”

“Jin’s gay. Namjoon is pansexual.”

“Hm, I probably could’ve guessed that.” Yoongi’s sharp eyes flicker over to the younger boys, whose stack of humans has toppled over, leaving them in a tangle on the ground. “And them?”

“Jimin’s bi, Taehyung is asexual, and Jungkook, well, it depends on the day.”

“Wait,” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “wasn’t Taehyung the one who wanted to watch all that porn?”

“You know how scientists are like, weirdly obsessed with phenomena they don’t understand?” Yoongi nods. “Well, that’s Taehyung with sex.”

Yoongi looks back over, where Namjoon now has Seokjin facing him with their foreheads resting together. Taehyung is between Jimin’s legs, leaning back against his friend’s chest while he and Jungkook have a mini sword fight with twigs they picked up off the ground. Slowly he looks back over to Hoseok, the same curious glint in his eye.

“And what about you?”

“I-“ Yoongi tilts his head to the side and the blanket slips down his shoulder, exposed by the tank top he’s wearing. For some reason, Hoseok’s voice cracks. And he suddenly remembers his hand on Yoongi’s thigh. “I’m bi, too,” he says, more confidently.

Yoongi’s nose scrunches up. “Ugh, I love you and I appreciate women and all, but just, no.”

Hoseok laughs, feeling a tightness he didn’t know he had in his chest dissipate.

“So, you are gay?”

Yoongi lips curl into a smirk. “I’m insulted you even have to ask.” He sounds teasing when he says it, but there’s a hardness sliding over his eyes. Before Hoseok can ask what’s wrong, they’re interrupted by frantic voices. Or rather, one frantic voice.

“Breakfast! Hurry up, guys!” Seokjin shouts, arms holding Jungkook in place to stop him from stampeding the food.

Hoseok unwinds the blanket from around him and drapes it back over Yoongi’s shoulder. He stands and reaches out a hand to pull Yoongi up. Yoongi looks at it hesitantly and Hoseok is worried that somehow he fucked something up. Somehow he said something wrong.

But then, Yoongi gets a determined look on his face and takes Hoseok’s hand like he’s proving something.

Hoseok doesn’t know what it is, or who he’s proving it to, but Yoongi has always had the best hands for holding, long skinny fingers and knobby knuckles, so Hoseok isn’t complaining as he lets Yoongi pull him over to the others.

Everyone always used to joke about Hoseok being so high energy and Yoongi being his lackadaisical counter-part, but honestly, most of the time with Yoongi, Hoseok feels like he’s the one just along for the ride.

Seokjin has made some of Yoongi’s favorites, and the blonde boy is so pleased he doesn’t even get angry when Jungkook drops hot food on his lap.

(Seokjin, however, starts to thoroughly berate the boy for wasting food. Jungkook picks the food out of Yoongi’s lap and pops it into his mouth, giving Seokjin a puffy-cheeked, defiant stare.)

They spend the day doing pretty much nothing in particular, which suits everyone just fine.

Yoongi and Namjoon spend a lot of the day on their phones, trading headphones back and forth and making fidgety little gestures with their hands, trading opinions on new music they’ve both found over the years. Hoseok lets Jimin nap on his legs while Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook engage in some game that involves slapping each other very hard on the back of the hands.

In the afternoon, Namjoon drags Seokjin away from the kids and on a walk with him by the water. Seokjin complains loudly that Namjoon will spend the whole time looking for crabs instead of paying attention to him, so why should he come anyways? But he doesn’t really sound angry, and he follows his boyfriend without a hint of reluctance in his step.

Hoseok steals Namjoon’s headphones when he leaves and plugs them into his own phone, tuning out with a little smile when he sees Yoongi being dragged over by the younger three to play a new game. He lets his eyes drift shut, trying to focus on the music and all of the fun they’re going to have this week instead of -

Instead of Yoongi.

If he doesn’t stop thinking about Yoongi, wondering what happened, trying to come up with a way to keep Yoongi from going back to his old life ever again, he might completely lose it. So he packages all of those thoughts neatly up and shoves them in that tiny, locked off corner of his mind reserved for unpleasant Yoongi-thoughts.

The sound of piercing laughter and something sticky hitting the side of his face has Hoseok’s eyes snapping open, hands reaching up to tug his headphones out of ears.

“Forry h’ung.” Taehyung grins abashedly, cheeks stuffed to the brim with sticky, white marshmallows. Hoseok wipes the side of his face and his fingers come back with chewed up marshmallow on them.

“Ew, Tae, what the hell!”

Jungkook laughs so hard, he nearly starts choking on his own face-full of marshmallows. Taehyung pats him aggressively on the back.

Taehyung and Jungkook acting like idiots is not surprising to Hoseok.

Taehyung hitting him in the face with a regurgitated marshmallow is not even that surprising to Hoseok.

What is surprising to Hoseok is Yoongi and Jimin, sitting right next to Idiot 1 and Idiot 2, playing right along. They’re on the log facing each other, mouths slightly parted with the volume of fluffy marshmallow in their mouths. Neither of them have the sickening amount that Jungkook and Taehyung do, but they have enough that it puffs out their cheeks and scrunches up their eyes.

Yoongi is giggling so hard, there are tears forming in the corners of his eyes and Jimin looks so happy, he probably can’t even see. They each grab a marshmallow out of the bag and try to shove them into each others mouths. Jimin is successful, but when Yoongi pushes in too hard, Jimin’s eyes go wide and turns his head away, coughing and spitting chewed-up marshmallow all over the ground.

Yoongi clutches his stomach, shoulders shaking with the force of his silent laughter. Jimin pouts at having lost and retaliates by putting his hands on either sides of Yoongi’s cheeks and squishing them until Yoongi has to pull away and spit out his own sticky mess.

“That was charming,” Hoseok calls over to the pair. They both look up at him, Yoongi’s cheeks flushing pink and Jimin bursting into a fresh bout of laughter, falling against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi grins guiltily at him and shrugs.

“To be fair, I thought it was a terrible idea the moment they asked me to play a game with them.”

“Nuh uh! You were excited to play!” Jimin reaches up and squishes his cheeks again. “And you looked soooo cute, hyung. Didn’t he look cute, huh Hobi?”

Cute was one word for it. But what he really thought was that Yoongi looked younger, with his cheeks all stuffed with marshmallows like that. As ridiculous as it was, it momentarily rounded the sharp edges of Yoongi’s face. He looked a little bit more like himself.

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbles, swatting Jimin’s hands away. Jimin just giggles and keeps grabbing at Yoongi until he’s got his cheeks pinched in his hands, cooing loudly and making Yoongi turn bright cherry red.

“Cute,” Hoseok mutters to himself, knowing neither of them can hear him.

“Hey hyung,” Jungkook plops down next to him, casually eating from the half-finished bag of marshmallows in his lap.

“Yeah, Kook?”

“D’you think he likes us?” Jungkook asks, quietly curious. “Yoongi-hyung, I mean. Like, do you think he likes us like he likes you and Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung? Or do you think he likes us like I like Taehyung’s younger siblings. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Hoseok tosses an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and lets the other boy lean against him, smelling like sugar and campfire smoke.

Taehyung has his arms around Yoongi’s waist and his chin resting on his shoulder, watching intently as Yoongi and Jimin try to juggle marshmallows, failing spectacularly. Yoongi pouts when he doesn’t get it, but Jimin smiles encouragingly at him and Taehyung hands him three more marshmallows from the bag, so Yoongi tries again.

“I think he likes you guys. I think he might even consider you friends, if you give it enough time.”

Jungkook hums happily, tossing a few more marshmallows in his mouth. “I think he needs more friends like us. Don’t you think, hyung?”

Yoongi finally gets his marshmallows to make a full rotation before they fall to the ground. He jumps to his feet, fist pumping triumphantly while Jimin claps appreciatively and Taehyung jumps up with him, lifting him off his feet and spinning him. Yoongi’s laughter is wild, unreserved.

“I think everyone could use more friends like you guys,” Hoseok tells the younger, chest bursting with affection. He drops a sloppy kiss on the top of Jungkook’s head and lets him squeal and complain while simultaneously burrowing closer into Hoseok’s side.

Yoongi looks over at him once Taehyung’s placed him back on the ground, and his eyes are bright. Alive like an electric wire. Hoseok feels it pierce right into him, tingling down his spine like he’s just been electrocuted. But, the good kind of electrocuted.

“I think everyone could use more friends like Yoongi, too,” Jungkook says thoughtfully.

“What kind of friend is that?” Hoseok asks curiously.

“The kind of friend that makes you want to love more.”

Hoseok looks surprised down at the top of Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t say anything else, just watches Yoongi trade off tossing marshmallows in the air at Taehyung and Jimin, seeing who can catch the most in their mouth. Every so often, he’ll pelt them in the forehead just for the fun of it, snickering to himself delightedly.

It wasn’t a feeling he’d ever put into words before, but the expanding in his chest, the way he feels like his ribcage isn’t big enough to hold his heart when he looks at Yoongi -

Jungkook hit the nail on the head, didn’t he?

When he looks at Yoongi, he wants to give and give and give every piece of his heart so that they can both feel as full as Hoseok does now. He wants to be light, and he wants to share that light with Yoongi. He looks at Yoongi and thinks he deserves all the love, so much love, more love than the six of them can possibly provide.

But he wants to try anyways.

“You do love him, right?”

“Of course I do,” Hoseok answers immediately. “He’s my best friend.”

Jungkook sits up and turns so he can look Hoseok in the eye, eyebrows slightly furrowed like he’s searching for something.

“Hm,” is all he says finally, shrugging his shoulders and settling back under Hoseok’s arm.

“‘Hm’ what?”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” Jungkook says in a sing-song voice, humming under his breath. It sounds suspiciously like Mendelssohn's "Wedding March”.

*

“Here, hyung.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look up from the half-hearted thumb war they were in at the sound of Jimin’s voice. He’s holding out a can of beer towards Yoongi expectantly, lips curled into an indulgent grin. Yoongi instinctively starts to reach for it, but his fingers twitch to a stop before they can grab the beer.

He looks surprised, eyes flickering towards his own hand like he doesn’t remember putting it there.

Jimin’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, but before he can say anything, Yoongi grabs the beer with a flash of a grin.

“Thanks, Jiminie.”

Jimin beams at the nickname and taps the tip of Yoongi’s nose happily before practically skipping over to Taehyung and Jungkook.

“I can drink that for you if you don’t want to make them feel bad,” Hoseok offers under his breath. Yoongi glances at him out of the corner of his eye before popping the tab and taking a hesitant sip. His nose scrunches up in displeasure.

“This is terrible.”

“I told you, I’ll drink it!”

“No,” Yoongi declares, pulling the beer protectively to his chest. “I’m drinking it. The whole thing.” His voice is defiant, eyes flickering with the reflection of the fire.

“But aren’t you worried about -?”

“I’m not worried about anything,” Yoongi says firmly. “That’s the point of this trip, right? To not worry?” He takes another sip of his beer, cringing at the taste. Hoseok shrugs and lifts his own beer to his lips, grinning around the lip of the can when Yoongi tries to match his pace.

Yoongi’s not as used to the carbonation as Hoseok is though, and he has to stop first. His eyebrows scrunch up and his chest jumps with a small hiccup.

“Even Jungkook drinks better than you do. You really are old now, huh hyung?”

“Don’t get cocky, I could drink you under the table if this was hard liquor.”

“We don’t have a table.”

Yoongi looks down at the ground in front of them. “I could drink you under the dirt,” he amends. Hoseok nods, satisfied.

“Gee,” Seokjin sighs loudly, “I sure do wish we could have s’mores right now. If only there were any marshmallows left.” He pins each of the four culprits with dagger eyes.

“You should’ve brought more marshmallows.”

“You were in charge of bringing the snacks!” Seokjin retorts, pointing an accusing finger in Jungkook’s face.

“You should have known I was going to eat all of the snacks I brought and come prepared with backups!”

Seokjin shoves at Jungkook so that he knocks over into Jimin, who, in a domino effect, knocks into Taehyung, who is sitting next to Yoongi, and ends up accidentally knocking his elbow into Yoongi’s side.

”Shit,” Yoongi hisses, grabbing at his ribcage. His bottom lip is caught harshly in his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. A reaction far too extreme for such a light tap.

“Ah, sorry, Yoongi-hyung! Are you okay? I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?” Taehyung’s hands flutter nervously around Yoongi’s frame, like he wants to do something to help but isn’t sure how to. Yoongi takes a harsh breath in through his nose, releases is slowly through his mouth. He forces a smile, patting Taehyung on his sad, puppy dog-hung head.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just being dramatic.”

But Hoseok knows Yoongi. He knows his jokingly dramatic expressions, and knows his real, pain-filled expressions. And that was as genuine as Yoongi’s reactions got.

Hoseok meets Jimin’s troubled expression over Yoongi’s head and he knows that Jimin noticed it, too.

The night goes on much the same (though luckily with less flying elbows). It’s all easy bickering, laughter that spirals high up into the night sky, and Jungkook giggling so hard beer comes out of his nose.

Seokjin regales Yoongi with the tale of how he met Jungkook, and Jimin tells him about how he and Hoseok met. Jungkook tells stories about weird stuff Taehyung writes in magnet letters on their mini fridge and all the times their next door neighbors have reported them for ‘disturbing the peace’ numerous times.

In return, the older four boys tell stories about when they were kids. When Seokjin had braces and Namjoon had a mohawk and Hoseok used to ride Yoongi around on the handlebars of his bike. They all listen on the edge of their seats, soaking up the memories like dried up sponges dropped in an ocean of information.

They never told stories like this to the kids because their entire childhood was so intricately woven with Yoongi, it was too painful to bring up. This was a side of them that Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin had never known before.

It feels like completing a circle, like coloring in a picture that was left half blank. Yoongi and their past were such an integral piece of them, and their own best friends knew nothing about it until tonight. Until Yoongi made them whole again.

Yoongi is leaning heavily against Hoseok’s side now, as the group’s raucous laughter peters off into sleepy chuckles.

“Do you wanna stay with Jin-hyung and Namjoon again tonight? Or have you had enough of Joon-ah’s snoring?” Hoseok asks teasingly, trying not to sound too hopeful as he runs his fingers through a tangle in Yoongi’s hair.

’Do you wanna stay with me?’

Yoongi hums thoughtfully and looks over towards where Seokjin has wiggled his way in between Namjoon’s legs, pressing lazy kisses to his cheek. “The snoring really isn’t that bad, but they probably wanna…do stuff, don’t they?”

“Nine times out of ten, yes, they do.”

“Gross. I guess I’ll stay somewhere else tonight, then…” Yoongi glances around the fire at his other options for roommates.

At that moment, Taehyung wraps his shoelace around Jungkook’s throat, making Jungkook open his mouth and gasp for air, beer dribbling down his chin. Yoongi sighs and shifts against Hoseok, but he doesn’t ask if he can share with him.

Jimin, on Yoongi’s other side, must catch onto the desperation surely emanating from Hoseok.

He says brightly: “Share with us, hyung! Hobi-hyung doesn’t even snore and I’ll share my really soft blanket with you.”

Hoseok meets his eyes gratefully, and Jimin has that same knowing look in his eye that he had earlier.

“Okay, sure. That sounds good.” Yoongi smiles appreciatively at them. “I’ll just go grab my pillow.”

As soon as he’s gone, Jimin says quietly, “I’ll get my first-aid kit out of the car.” He gets up without another word.

When Yoongi emerges from the tent with his pillow in his hand, Namjoon looks up curiously.

“Are you sleeping somewhere else tonight, hyung?”

Seokjin gasps dramatically, hand flying to his heart. “You’re leaving us? Yoongi-yah, my very first dongsaeng who I created in my own image - “

“You did a pretty bad job. He doesn’t look anything like you,” Jungkook points out.

“Yeah, you forgot a few inches,” Taehyung snickers.

“Screw you, kid. Hold on, am I Jesus in this metaphor?” Yoongi interrupts with a sullen pout.

“No, you’re man I think,” Namjoon supplies.

“What man?” Yoongi asks curiously.

“Just, every man in general.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“This is so far from the point!” Seokjin exclaims, arms flailing wildly.

“The point is Yoongi doesn’t want to share a tent with the honeymooners anymore, hyung,” Jungkook butts in.

“On one hand, I am offended. On the other hand, I am flattered that you still think we’re cute enough to be in our honeymoon phase.”

“No, no one said you were cute -“

“We’re cute, you said it, goodnight boys.”

Seokjin stands and grabs Namjoon by the hand, dragging him away before anyone else can get another word in. Seokjin loves getting the last word (and he almost always does).

Hoseok rolls his eyes and stands as well, spotting the shape of Jimin trekking back from the car in the darkness.

“Come on, hyung, I’m exhausted.” Hoseok reaches out a hand towards Yoongi and the older boy doesn’t pause before taking it this time. “Hey, you two,” Hoseok snaps his fingers to get Taehyung and Jungkook’s attention. The boys look up from their conspiratorial giggling with suspiciously wide, innocent eyes. Hoseok truly doesn’t even want to know what they’re talking about. “Don’t forget to put out the fire before you go to bed, okay? I’m serious, don’t forget, I don’t wanna get deep-friend in my sleep because of you two.”

“We promise, hyung!”

Hoseok rolls his eyes and leads Yoongi into the tent, Jimin joining them a few moments later. Yoongi’s quiet once the three of them are crowded in there together. He sits cross-legged in the middle of Hoseok and Jimin, holding his pillow to his chest.

“Can you guys turn around while I change my shirt?”

“Why, hyung?” Jimin asks carefully.

“Because this isn’t a free show,” Yoongi snaps, honey voice going bitter. Hoseok physically jerks back at the sound of Yoongi’s vitriol voice, but Jimin doesn’t even flinch, just keeps kind eyes focused on Yoongi. Yoongi exhales and seems to deflate. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, hyung,” Jimin says softly. He reaches out and links one of his hands with Yoongi’s. “Whatever it is, hyung, it’s okay,” he continues, even quieter than before. Hoseok sees Yoongi’s fingers tighten around Jimin’s hand, fingernails digging into the skin.

“I know it’s okay. I don’t need you to tell me it’s okay.” Yoongi’s jaw is set tightly.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok reaches for the older boy’s other hand, “it’s okay to accept help from your friends sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. None of us think you’re weak, hyung, okay? You’re the strongest person I know.”

Yoongi looks between the two of them, conflict written across his features. He still seems scared, unsure, so Hoseok gives his hand a squeeze. After what feels like a small eternity, Yoongi takes a deep breath, squeezing back, and then lets go of both boys’ hands to peel off his t-shirt.

Jimin gasps softly.

Back when they were sophomores in high school, Yoongi got shoved to the ground by a kid much bigger than him from the other team during a basketball game once. Hoseok was at the game - he was at all of Yoongi’s games - and to this day, he doesn’t remember getting out of his seat and storming onto the middle of the court.

All he remembers is that the next thing he knew, the entire game had stopped around him, refs and coaches shouting at him to get off the court, but Hoseok didn’t listen to any of them. Just stood in front of Yoongi who was looking up at him with surprise and awe and jabbed his finger in the big, ugly brute’s face and shouted words that his mother would later ground him for using.

Yoongi ended up with red knees and a sore hip, and Hoseok sat with him in the nurse’s office, holding ice packs to his skin for the rest of the game until their parents came to pick them up.

There were no bruises or marks left the next day to serve as a reminder of the incident, only Hoseok’s memory of the feeling of lava erupting in the pit of his stomach when he saw Yoongi get hurt.

There’s a mark this time, a reminder of something Hoseok is grateful that he doesn’t know about because he’s not sure he could handle the anger.

Yoongi’s bruise now is roughly the size of an open palm, creeping from the bottom of Yoongi’s ribcage down to his sharp hipbone. It’s still mottled shades of purple and red. Fresh and angry.

“What the -“

“No questions,” Yoongi cuts off Hoseok’s question pleadingly. “Please, just - no questions.”

“Yoongi, if one of your clients is hurting you -“

Yoongi shakes his head frantically. “It doesn’t happen all the time, sometimes accidents happen.”

“Was it really an accident?” Jimin whispers. Yoongi blinks back at him, eyes devoid of emotion.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.”

”That’s not a big deal?” Hoseok gestures to the bruise, which just seems to be getting darker with each passing second. “I’d hate to see what you do consider a big deal.”

“Shut up, Hoseok. Please, stop talking.” Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, fingernails biting into his thighs.

“Hobi-hyung…” Jimin warns him carefully, but there’s fire flickering in the corners of Hoseok’s vision. An anger like he’s never felt before, worse than that day at the basketball game, is swelling up inside of him, forcing the words out of him like waves crashing on the shore.

“Who was it? Was it that old guy? The one who was grabbing your ass in the middle of the hotel lobby?”

“I said shut up!”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He was so close - Hoseok was so close to that man, looked right at that ring-adorned hand he hurt Yoongi with. Hoseok feels like he’s going to be sick, but it’s just words that keep spilling out of him. “I’ll fucking kill that guy, I swear to god. I’m going back to that hotel and waiting in the lobby for days if I have to until that piece of shit shows his face again -“

“Hyung!” Jimin says sharply this time. Hoseok is man enough to admit that that voice of Jimin’s is more than enough to strike fear into his heart.

“What -“ All of the searing rage inside of Hoseok immediately turns into a terrible, freezing lump in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, oh Yoongi, don't - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yoongi’s covered his face with his hands and is crying quietly, tears slipping past his fingers and shoulders trembling. Hoseok hesitantly crawls a little closer to Yoongi and starts rubbing circles into his back the way his mother used to do when one of them scraped their knees while playing outside.

“Don’t go back there.” Yoongi looks up at him, teary eyes wide. “Don’t you ever go back there and d-don’t you ever come in contact with any of my clients again. Promise me, Seok-ah. Promise you won’t go back there.”

Hoseok doesn’t want to go back to that place or see any of those men any time soon, that’s for sure. But - if that’s where Yoongi is going to be -

That means I’ll never see you again.

“I promise.” He crosses his fingers behind his back.

Yoongi searches his face carefully, like he can sense that Hoseok is lying (he usually can).

“Why don’t you lay down, hyung?” Jimin suggests calmly. “I have plenty of stuff for bruises in my first aid kit. Let me take care of it, okay?”

Yoongi fixes Hoseok with one last suspicious look before shuffling around and laying on the blankets with Jimin on his knees at his bruised side. Jimin and Yoongi talk while Jimin applies creams and ointments to Yoongi’s purpling skin, low, but not so low that Hoseok wouldn’t be able to hear them if he was actually paying attention.

Instead, he was paying attention to the tender, almost reverent way that Jimin’s hands move over Yoongi’s body. The warm smiles he grants the older boy, and quiet affection Yoongi gives him in return.

For all of Jimin’s talk about Jungkook and Taehyung getting attached to Yoongi, Hoseok thinks that he’s probably getting more attached than they are. It’s almost as if - as if Jimin has a crush on Yoongi.

But as Hoseok keeps watching them together, running over all of their interactions in his head, it’s nothing like how Jimin acts when he actually has a crush on someone. Whenever Jimin was in the general vicinity of the upperclassman he had a crush on last semester, he’d turn into a bright red, stuttering mess. But with Yoongi, he’s sure and gentle, all quiet words and small comforting touches, smiles like early morning light and lullaby promises.

Jimin’s taking care of Yoongi - the same way he takes care of all of them. He’s gone and adopted Yoongi as one of them, as one of his boys.

“There, it should be less sore by tomorrow.” Jimin places gauze over the bruise to keep the cream from getting on the blankets. “The bruise itself will take some time to heal, but it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin takes Yoongi’s larger hand in his, regarding him thoughtfully. “You shouldn’t have any pain, only happiness. Goodnight, hyungs.” He climbs in his sleeping bag and rolls over without another word.

“Sorry I yelled,” Hoseok whispers after he and Yoongi have climbed into their own sleeping bags, laying on their backs in the dark. He hears Yoongi shift to face him, so he follows suit, just barely able to make out the gleam of his obsidian eyes in the darkness.

“Sorry I made you make that promise.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah. Did you mean it?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi sighs heavily, but he sounds a little fond. “You can’t go back there, you can’t get involved with - with any of that part of my life.”

“Why can’t I?” Hoseok knows he’s being petulant.

“Mmmm, too soft, Seok-ah. Always too soft.”

Hoseok feels warm fingertips slide across his forehead before Yoongi rolls back over and everything is quiet again.

Hoseok dreams of crashing waves and ocean water so dark, it’s purple.

*

They all wake up at seven the next morning - well, some of them don’t wake up until seven thirty because some of them look very cute when they sleep with their hands tucked between their legs and some of them had a long night, so Hoseok lets some people sleep in a little longer.

(Okay, so it’s just Yoongi.)

They pack up the whole campsite in a little under an hour, and get back on the road for their second destination. Jimin takes his turn driving Hoseok’s car, while Seokjin drives his own again because he doesn’t trust any of them with his car. Which - is fair.

Jungkook doesn’t call dibs on shotgun but he gets there faster than Hoseok who is busy helping Yoongi and Jimin pack up their tent. Yoongi decides to ride in Seokjin’s car today so Namjoon can play a new album he found for him, and Taehyung tags along because he has apparently been a huge rap fanboy this entire time, so Hoseok gets the whole backseat to himself to stretch out and catch a few more hours of sleep.

The next stop isn’t that far away from the first place they stayed, and they’re only on the road for four hours today, reaching their destination by the afternoon when the sun is still high in the sky. This one has sand where the last one had rocks, and less trees to shade them from the sun’s rays.

“Where are you guys going?”

Hoseok starts to lay out his towel in a nice spot in the sun, intending on tanning for a little bit while the sun is still high in the sky. Yoongi and Seokjin are heading towards the water dressed in swimming trunks with arms laden with equipment. Yoongi has one of the lollipops Taehyung gave him between his lips.

“We’re gonna take a swim and then go fishing.”

Seokjin holds up a fishing pole and Yoongi copies the gesture with a bright grin.

“I didn’t know you could fish, hyung? Actually, I didn’t know either of you could fish?”

“We can’t,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I found my dad’s old fishing stuff in the garage and thought ‘what the hell’. Joonie won’t go with me because it makes him sad for the fish, but luckily, Yoongi-yah is here!” Seokjin throws an arm around Yoongi and the pair turn and continue on their way, two bright blonde heads bobbing in the sunshine,

right towards the water.

“Wait!” Hoseok calls, panic gripping him suddenly. Yoongi and Seokjin turn to him with expectant expressions, but Hoseok can’t look away from Yoongi, imagining the shock, the fear, the scream that never came - “Can you swim?”

Yoongi gives him an odd look. “Of course I can, you’ve seen me swim dozens of times.”

“But will you swim?”

Seokjin makes a vague sound of confusion, but something passes over Yoongi’s face, an understanding of sorts. He meets Hoseok’s gaze evenly and holds his pinky up in the air.

“I will. Promise.”

Seokjin looks between them, shaking his head in confusion. “You two are so weird. Let’s go, Yoongi-yah, before all the fish get scared away by all of this weirdness.”

He places a hand firmly between Yoongi’s shoulder blades and steers the smaller boy away. Hoseok still doesn’t like the way Yoongi disappears over the horizon until all Hoseok can see is the ocean, but he has Yoongi’s promise.. So he deals with it.

He spends a few hours tanning, then helping Jimin with dinner so Seokjin can have a break from cooking, and having a hand stand contest with Jungkook and Taehyung, judged by Namjoon. (Jungkook wins, and Hoseok would accuse Namjoon of being biased, but Jungkook has arms the size of Hoseok’s thighs, so he accepts the loss graciously.)

Jimin has everything for dinner simmering over the fire and doesn’t need Hoseok’s help anymore, and Yoongi and Seokjin haven’t come back from the beach yet, so Hoseok wanders down to find them.

They’re standing shoulder to shoulder (well, almost, since Seokjin is much taller than Yoongi), fishing poles held lazily in their hands, looking out across the water. They’re peaceful together, not saying much, just glancing over at each other every so often and smiling like they can’t believe they’re both here. Hoseok almost hates to disturb the peace, is about to turn back and leave the pair alone, when Yoongi glances back over his shoulder and sees him.

“Seok-ah, you want to take a turn?” Yoongi offers, holding out his pole towards Hoseok. “It’s not very exciting, so I don’t know if you’ll like it very much. But you can try if you want?”

Hoseok shakes his head with a smile. “All you, hyung.” He frowns when he gets closer and sees that Yoongi’s nose and cheeks are flushed a bright pink. “Yoongi! Did you put any sunblock on today!”

“Oh no, am I burnt?” Yoongi blinks up at him. Hoseok sighs, but luckily he just helped Taehyung reapply his own sunblock, so he’s still got the tube in his pocket.

“Hold still, I’ll get your face for you,” Hoseok instructs. Yoongi nods and lowers his fishing pole so Hoseok can step closer, toe-to-toe, squeezing some sunblock onto his fingertips and rubbing it carefully across his smooth skin. He’s got a new lollipop in his mouth now, lips pursed around it with the stick poking out the side of his mouth.

Hoseok is very aware of everything in that moment - of the salty taste in the air, the sun beating on his back, the way Yoongi’s skin feels under his fingers, the sticky shine of his lips dyed artificial red from his cherry lollipop. There’s something happening here, in this small action that seems so insignificant, something that Hoseok can’t put his finger on until hours later.

He swipes his thumbs carefully across Yoongi’s cheekbones, making sure not to get any too close to his eyes, uses one hand to thread his fingers into Yoongi’s hair and push it back so he can cover his forehead. He holds his chin gently between two fingers to keep him still as he rubs sunscreen into Yoongi’s button nose, which is warm to the touch. Hopefully it isn’t burned too badly and will fade by tonight. He can rub some aloe on Yoongi’s nose later if it hurts.

He hums to himself as he thinks, not realizing he’s mindlessly tracing his fingers up and down the bridge of Yoongi’s nose.

“I think you got it,” Seokjin teases, breaking Hoseok from his thoughts. Yoongi is staring up at him, lips slightly parted so that his lollipop hangs dangerously at the edge of his mouth and fishing pole loose in his grip. Hoseok steps away quickly.

“Sorry! Sorry, hyung, I totally zoned out for a second there! Okay, I won’t disturb your fishing anymore, I’m gonna head back. Dinner should be ready soon, uh, someone will call you? Or I could just come back and get you, I guess? Okay. Okay, bye hyungs, have fun.”

Seokjin laughs gleefully at Hoseok’s retreating back, but the last look Hoseok sees Yoongi give him is that same wide-eyed, mouth agape look he gave him while Hoseok ran his hands all over his friends face like a creep with some kind of face fetish. Or a skin fetish. Or a sunburn fetish, or something.

His heart is beating way too fast and his fingertips tingle and every time he closes his eyes he sees Yoongi’s lips wrapped around that stupid lollipop.

It hadn’t felt like this at all when he was putting sunblock on Taehyung’s face.

Hoseok lays awake that night and tells himself over and over again that it didn’t mean anything. That he didn’t have the craziest, most terrifying urge to leave his hands on Yoongi’s face, pull the lollipop from his mouth, and kiss him senseless.

He’s almost convinced himself, too - Convinced himself that Yoongi has always been objectively very pretty and this is the first time Hoseok is seeing him since he’s known that he likes boys. It’s normal to be confused, to get his feelings all mixed up.

But then Yoongi rolls over towards him in his sleep, lips parted with little puffs of breath slipping out and nose just the fairest shade of pink, freckles from the sun delicately smattered across his cheeks. Hoseok wants to touch and touch and never stop touching.

Looking back on it all, on their entire history together and the easy, almost cosmic way Hoseok has always been drawn to Yoongi since the day they met, maybe he’s not getting his feelings mixed up here at all.

Maybe he’s actually just straightening them all out for the first time (except there is nothing straight about the way he feels about Yoongi).

That part of Hoseok that shut down when Yoongi left, that huge gaping space left in his brain and in his chest - it shut down to protect him

It was the part of Hoseok that knew, deep down, all along, that he was in love with Yoongi. And it knew that if Hoseok realized it back then, the heartbreak would devastate him beyond repair.

And now, that part of Hoseok is awake again.

*

Hoseok dreams of Yoongi and the water again that night.

But this time, there’s no Namjoon and Seokjin. No heavy grey storm clouds or swirling purple waters in sight. There’s endless stretches of white sandy beach, not a soul in sight, and the water is clear and blue and still, going on as far as the eye can see.

The water is so clear, in fact, that Hoseok can easily look down and see the spot underwater where Yoongi’s bare legs are wrapped around his waist. The exact point where his cock, flushed pink and curved in between them, rubs against Hoseok’s hip.

Oh, fuck, that should not feel nearly as good as it does.

The other boy weighs practically nothing in his arms. Yoongi’s pale, wet skin, dotted with little droplets of water that slide down his neck, across his chest, glisten in the sunlight. Tips of his hair damp and hanging in his eyes, sticking to his forehead, lips parted in quiet gasps and moans as he grinds his hard on into the bone of Hoseok’s hip.

“Mmmm, Seok. Tighter,” Yoongi whines, head tossed back on a sharp inhale. And there’s that neck, that lovely, elegant neck all stretched out, tantalizingly in display right in front of his face, practically begging Hoseok to mark it up.

“Tighter… What tighter?” Hoseok stammers, barely able to form words. Great, even in his dreams he’s a complete loser for Yoongi.

”Tighter,” Yoongi repeats with meaning, covering Hoseok’s hands with his own and flexing his fingers, subsequently making Hoseok’s own fingers dig harder into the soft flesh of Yoongi’s ass. Yoongi responds ecstatically, ducking his face closer until it’s buried in Hoseok’s neck, bodies completely knotted together as Yoongi continues to rock against him.

“Hyung, I - fuck!” Hoseok jolts like he’s been burned when Yoongi’s teeth bite into his neck, fingernails scratching at his scalp, body so warm and lithe against his.

“You want this.”

“I-“ Hoseok falters.

Yoongi pulls back, looks Hoseok dead in the eye with a fierce gaze.

“Admit it, Seok-ah. Just admit you want this.” Fingers card through his hair, more tenderly now. Yoongi brushes the tip of his nose against Hoseok’s, lips a horribly teasing distance away. Some of the water dripping from the tips of his hair splashes onto Hoseok’s cheeks. “Don’t you want me?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

He can feel Yoongi’s smug grin against his cheek, and then that grin is being branded against his mouth and Hoseok doesn’t think anything else at all.

They start to create ripples, tiny waves in the water around them as their bodies push and pull together more frantically, Yoongi’s ankles crossing behind his back and his own hands roaming all over the smooth, supple skin of Yoongi’s upper thighs and his ass. The water makes every slide of their skin easy, sensual.

“Kiss me,” Yoongi pleads. “Don’t stop kissing me.”

Hoseok is all too happy to comply.

Not a single second of kissing Yoongi is boring, his tongue always flicking and teasing, his teeth nipping at Hoseok’s bottom lip, and his lips parting sweetly as he breathes moan after moan into Hoseok’s mouth. It’s heady, intoxicating.

Not like cheap beer. Like hard liquor that burns on the way down.

Hoseok places one hand firmly under one of Yoongi’s thighs to keep him up, his other hand reaching in between the boy’s legs to rub teasingly around the rim of his entrance. Yoongi shudders against him and bites down on his bottom lip, hard.

“In, in, in,” Yoongi chants, bucking back against Hoseok’s fingers with each word.

The water makes the slide easy enough, Hoseok twisting two fingers inside right away. The rest of his body is submerged in the cool water, but just his fingers are suddenly engulfed in a tight warmth, viselike and pulling him in.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” Hoseok groans, letting his forehead fall onto Yoongi’s shoulder. The older boy just holds him close, tangles fingers in his hair as he begins to whine and thrust against Hoseok’s fingers desperate, begging the younger to add another, to go faster, to fuck him for real with his ‘perfect, pretty-boy cock’.

Hoseok wasn’t sure what a ‘pretty-boy cock’ was, but when Yoongi said it, it made his entire body thrum with pleasure.

Yoongi felt so good, so pliant and wanting in his arms, his entire body plastered against Hoseok’s like wet clothes. His dick was achingly hard, trapped between their stomachs with not enough friction.

“You want me to fuck you?”

”Yes,” Yoongi hisses, legs tightening around Hoseok’s waist.

“Okay, okay, shit I’m gonna fuck you so good, I’ve been wanting this so bad, I - Oh my god, what the fuck happened?”

When Hoseok slides his fingers out of his ass, the water around them starts to bleed crimson.

“Shit, Yoongi, did I hurt you?”

Yoongi doesn’t seem to register the blood at all, or even Hoseok’s words. He just keeps pressing frantic kisses to Hoseok’s face, begging begging begging to be fucked.

“Stop, stop, you’re bleeding!”

“Do it, Seok, fuck me, fill me up, do it.”

Hoseok takes his hands off of Yoongi, tries to create some space between them.

Every inch of Yoongi’s skin that his hands touched blooms with angry purple bruises in their wake, spreading across Yoongi’s body like a disease.

Hoseok inhales a sharp gasp and tries desperately to shove Yoongi off of him, to stop himself from hurting the other boy, but Yoongi just continues to cling to him with an almost inhuman strength.

“You want this,” he hisses, lips pressed right against Hoseok’s ear.

“No, no, I-“

“You said it. You said it, Seokie, you want this. You want this.”

“I don’t! I don’t want to hurt you, hyung, please!”

Tears sting at the back of Hoseok’s eyes and the water around them turns thick with blood.

“Yes, you do.”

Yoongi kisses him, and Hoseok kisses back.

The next morning, Hoseok finds Namjoon sitting along the water’s edge reading a tattered paperback book.

“Namjoon?”

“Hm?” The younger doesn’t look up from his page.

“What do you know about repressed childhood traumas manifesting themselves into subconscious sexual fantasies?”

Namjoon dog-ears his page and carefully closes his book, taking off his glasses and placing them on top. He regards Hoseok calmly.

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

Hoseok stands and brushes the dirt off of the back of his pants, his cheeks burning.

“Nope.”

He spins around on his heels and speed-walks right away.

*

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

”Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Hyung, will you please put your phone away?”

Yoongi blinks up from his phone at Hoseok. “Since when are we not allowed to have phones on this trip?”

Hoseok runs a hand through his ocean-damp hair, shaking some of the sand out of it.

“You’re missing it!”

Yoongi glances around, confused. “Missing what?”

Hoseok gestures widely to the area of beach around them. “This! Everything! What could possibly be happening on that tiny screen that’s better than what’s right in front of your face?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and settles back in his lawn chair, fingers tapping away at his phone again. Namjoon and Jungkook are sitting half-buried in the sand together, building castles (well, Namjoon is building a castle. Jungkook is just building a pile of sand on top of his feet), the sun glinting off of their broad, tan shoulders. Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jimin are still in the water, seeing who can do the coolest flip into the oncoming waves. From what Hoseok can tell, Jimin is destroying the other two.

The tips of Yoongi’s blonde hair are dripping water onto his collarbones, wet t-shirt clinging to his body - not because he had gone swimming, but because when he decided he didn’t want to go swimming, Jungkook and Taehyung decided to spill a bucket of water on him while he was tanning peacefully. They now both sport matching red marks on the backs of their necks for the stunt.

“Really? You’re just gonna sit on your phone all day while we have this beautiful weather? Are you listening to me, huh, Yoongi?”

Yoongi grunts to acknowledge him, but doesn’t look up from his phone again.

Time for Plan B.

Yoongi is so absorbed in his phone that he doesn’t notice Hoseok creeping up behind him until it’s too late, and Hoseok has already snatched the phone out of his hands.

“Hey! Seok, give it!” Yoongi stands and turns on him with a pout on his face and angry fists planted on his hips. If he was going for intimidating, he missed it by about a mile.

“It’s for your own good!”

“Jung Hoseok, if you drop my phone in the - where are you going?”

“We’re going exploring!”

“Like hell I am!”

Yoongi is stubborn, but Hoseok is determined - it’s always made them an even match for each other.

“If you want your phone back you are.” Hoseok doesn’t wait for an answer, just takes off running down the beach, the sand slipping between his toes.

“When I catch you - you’re dead!” Yoongi calls, panting harshly between words.

”If you catch me, you mean!”

Hoseok’s always been faster than Yoongi, and he intends to be faster than him until the day they die.

He hasn’t run like this in the open in forever, usually just dancing for exercise or using the treadmill at the university gym. It feels more freeing like this, with the wind in his hair and the shifting ground beneath his feet. (And Yoongi shouting curses at him from behind.)

“Seriously, give it back! I was in the middle of texting - texting Hyuna - to tell her you haven’t murdered me yet!”

“Really? ‘Yet’? Well you’re never gonna get your phone back if you don’t pick up the pace, hyun - woah, shit!”

Hoseok turns over his shoulder to look back at Yoongi for just a brief second, but it’s enough time for him to miss the way the rocky ground suddenly drops off and his feet carry his body forward before he can stop himself from falling. (And isn’t that just poetic irony?)

He lands hard on his ass, pain instantly shooting up his spine. It hurts enough that it has him seeing stars for a few seconds, but it could’ve been worse, he could’ve broken a leg or something.

After a second of laying on the ground, groaning in pain and taking stock of his limbs (all there) and gauging his pain level (not as bad as it could be - he landed on sand), he hears Yoongi shouting frantically for him.

Huh, look at that. Yoongi’s phone survived perfectly intact.

“Hoseok! Seok-ah! Are you okay, what the fuck are you doing down there?”

Hoseok cracks an eye and glares up at Yoongi above him.

“Just having a little nap, hyung, what do you think I’m doing?”

Yoongi’s eyes go wide, biting his bottom lip.

“Are you okay? Do you need help getting back up?”

Hoseok plants his hands in the sand next to him and pushes his body up with a groan of pain, but he’s really fine, all things considered.

“Nah, I can -“ He stops when he’s fully seated, now staring straight into the cliff - that isn’t really a cliff at all.

It’s a cavern.

“Wow, what the shit.”

“Seok-ah? You okay?”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok laughs, the sound echoing in the cave. Yoongi tilts his head curiously and he looks so funny, standing up there on top of a cave he doesn’t even realize is right beneath him. “You gotta come down here!”

“Unless there’s an elevator, I don’t see that happening.”

“Just jump, you big baby.”

“I’ll break a leg!”

“I’ll catch you! Seriously, it isn’t even that far.”

Yoongi squints down at him.

“Where’s my phone?”

Hoseok fishes it out of his pocket and holds it up.

“If you drop me after you didn’t drop my phone, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Hoseok shoves the phone back in his pocket and opens his arms for Yoongi with a bright smile that he hopes is reassuring. Yoongi ignores him and sits down on the ground, scooting forward as much as he can so that his legs dangle in the entrance to the cavern.

“Come on! I wanna go in!” Hoseok makes grabby hands to encourage Yoongi to jump faster.

Yoongi kicks his legs and looks down at the distance between himself and the ground, looks back up at Hoseok waiting for him.

“You promise you won’t drop me?”

“I won’t ever let you get hurt.” Hoseok holds up his pinky.

Yoongi sighs and glances up at the sky, placing his hands on the ground beside him. “I must be crazy.”

And then he jumps.

It doesn’t go as smoothly as Hoseok envisioned it, but he does manage to catch Yoongi. The force of Yoongi’s body colliding with his sends him sprawling back into the sand, Yoongi’s body held safely against his so that Hoseok takes the full impact of the fall.

His tailbone hasn’t quite recovered from his own fall, but the sharp ache is a small price to pay for the pleased grin Yoongi gives him. Yoongi lays completely on top of him, heartbeat thudding against Hoseok’s chest and their noses nearly brushing so that Hoseok has to go cross-eyed to see Yoongi’s face in front of him. He prays that Yoongi can’t feel how hard his heart is beating between their bodies.

“Thanks.”

Yoongi has a few loose grains of sand sticking to his cheekbones. Hoseok reaches up and brushes them away without really thinking about it.

“You were right, let’s find an elevator next time.”

Yoongi laughs, and just like Hoseok’s, it echoes back at them from the cavern.

It’s not that big, just a small round cave carved out of the rock by water that pools in the bottom of it, but it’s extraordinary to them all the same. Hoseok walks in first, reaching back his hand to hold Yoongi’s and tug him along. He wades into the water, right into the center. It’s cool and clear, and reaches just up to his knees. There’s an eerie purple glow cast around the whole cavern.

Yoongi comes up next to him, fingers still intertwined, and Hoseok feels like they’re so small in this moment. So small in this world, with this cave wrapped around them, immovable and older than either of them will ever be.

Yoongi pulls on his fingers. “Look up.”

Hoseok tilts his head back and finds the source of the purple light - crystals. Growing right there, on the ceiling of the cavern. The sun reflecting off of the water onto the ceiling must be what’s casting the glow, and it refracts lilac and violet lights bouncing all around the cavern.

It’s the most beautiful thing Hoseok has ever seen.

“This doesn’t even feel real,” Yoongi whispers, fingers squeezing Hoseok’s lightly.

And - oh, no wait.

Yoongi’s head is still tipped back, looking up at the crystal lights. Pouty lips parted slightly in wonder, feline eyes delightedly wide and skin bathed in shades of purple that twinkle across his skin like a kaleidoscope. The lights dance in his pale hair, across his cheeks, in his eyes. Shimmering across his skin like it’s the surface of water itself.

Scratch that: This is the most beautiful thing Hoseok has ever seen.

“Should we go get everyone else so they can - ‘Seok?” Yoongi peers up at him. Takes a step closer. “What’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything is all wrong and Hoseok feels like he can’t breathe because it doesn’t feel wrong at all. It feels like - like this tiny piece of the world was meant for them, like this is exactly where their lives were leading them all along. Every summer picnic, every late night action movie, every bike ride, every scraped knee and sleepover, getting drunk in basements and playing the radio too loud in the car, leading them here.

And hasn’t it all done just that? Hasn’t Hoseok’s entire life been paved with whispers of ’yoongi yoongi yoongi yoongi’ from the day he met him?

It hasn’t been long since he realized that he wants his best friend in a way that is way more than friendly, but now that he’s let himself accept it, it feels so natural to suddenly need Yoongi like this so badly it makes his mouth go dry.

And Yoongi is so beautiful, always so beautiful, and the purples that flash across his face remind Hoseok of the bruise on his skin and if Yoongi keeps looking at him like that Hoseok is - he’s -

He’s gonna do something really crazy.

“Did you hit your head or something? You might have a concussion you dummy, come here, let me see.”

Yoongi places both of his hands on Hoseok’s shoulders, fingers gripping the back of his neck, and pulls himself up on his toes, closer to Hoseok’s face to inspect him for a concussion.

Yoongi smells like saltwater and sunscreen and - and oranges.

Fuck.

Hoseok’s hands find their way to Yoongi’s waist, narrow and soft and fitting so perfectly in Hoseok’s hands, and the universe meant for this to happen, Hoseok just knows it.

He pauses, just for a second, looking into Yoongi’s dark eyes that seem to shine with a thousand galaxies inside them. And they’re the same. The same eyes Yoongi’s always had - whether they’re lined with smudged black makeup, crinkled with laughter, weighed down with purple bags or sadness - they’re Yoongi’s eyes.

Hoseok takes a step closer so that there’s no space between them, tilts his head slightly to the side, and presses their lips together so sweetly it makes his chest ache.

Yoongi makes a small surprised sound, but it gets lost between them as Yoongi’s rigid surprise quickly melts into hesitant acceptance of the kiss, his fingers tangling in Hoseok’s hair to tug and angle their heads more so that the slide of their lips is closer and smoother.

Hoseok lets his eyes slip shut and purple lights still dance in his vision.

He notices in the slow drag of their kisses that the skin of Yoongi’s bottom lip is slightly rough from biting at it so much and Hoseok swipes his tongue over it, wants to soothe it and heal it and keep Yoongi from ever having to keep anything inside again.

Yoongi takes another step and Hoseok wraps his arms completely around his slender waist. He feels so familiar in Hoseok’s arms and a part of his brain is still so confused about this being his best friend since they were kids, but a much larger part of his brain is saying something like, finally.

“Seok,” Yoongi sighs into his mouth, letting his lips stay slightly open and leaving the most perfect opening for Hoseok to deepen the kiss and let his tongue flick hesitantly into Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi responds immediately, a moan pulled from somewhere deep within. His fingernails dig almost painfully into the back of Hoseok’s neck as the older boy reels him in closer, closer so that their bodies are pressed completely against each other, the kiss hinging on something much more than a simple touching of mouths and Hoseok wants so badly to let it cross over into something that they can never come back from.

Yoongi’s shirt is still damp from being doused with water earlier but his skin is warm from laying out in the sun. Hoseok slides his hands under the hem of Yoongi’s shirt to feel the smooth lines of his stomach, fingertips tracing the divots of his ribcage. His lips moving against Yoongi’s, ready to form the words that have been locked away in a dark, desperate place in his mind before today, finally ready to see the light of day, and then -

And then nothing.

“You can’t.” Yoongi is much too far away now, eyes wild like a startled animal’s and lips puffy and red.

“I… Can’t?” Hoseok’s head still feels slightly fuzzy, like he left it among the clouds. He did that to Yoongi’s mouth.

“You can’t do that, Hoseok. Please don’t do that.” The desperate tone of Yoongi’s voice brings Hoseok’s head crashing back down. Yoongi backs away from him slowly, hands trembling at his sides.

He’s scared.

“I’m sorry - fuck, I’m so sorry, Yoongi.” Hoseok feels bile rise in the back of his throat. “I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t have, I mean, I should’ve asked first or something? Namjoon is always going on and on about the importance of consent in today’s society, you’d think some of it would’ve gotten through to me by now, right? That was so stupid, I wasn’t even thinking. I’m sorry, really.”

Yoongi takes a slow step closer to Hoseok. His hands don’t stop shaking, closing into tight fists that look painful.

“It was an accident, right?”

“Um, yes?”

“It didn’t mean anything, right?”

It’s not so much a question as it is leading for an answer.

“Right,” Hoseok lies, swallowing the words he nearly let free back down, because it’s clearly what Yoongi needs to hear.

“You just got caught up in the moment.” Yoongi nods to himself and Hoseok isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince at this point.

“Okay,” Hoseok agrees. He licks his lips and they taste like oranges.

One of Yoongi’s hands unclenches and reaches out for Hoseok’s own, grabbing on too tight. “Don’t do that to yourself, Seok-ah. It’ll just - it’ll be easier if you don’t.”

It doesn’t sting like a rejection. Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s because Yoongi softened the blow so gracefully that Hoseok didn’t even feel the hurt, or if it’s because Yoongi never said that it didn’t mean anything to him.

The lilac reflections shimmer across Yoongi’s face and Yoongi himself really is the surface of the water, the cohesion holding it together so loosely that the softest touch could shatter the entire thing.

“Do you want me to take you back now? I promised I would if you changed your mind.”

Yoongi’s death grip on his hand loosens and his eyebrows draw together in confusion or thought, Hoseok isn’t sure. Finally, he gives a small shake of his head. Relief spreads through Hoseok’s entire body.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that. You just - you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I have kissed people before, I’ll have you know,” Hoseok says, slightly offended.

“I mean you don’t know what you’re doing kissing me.”

“Seemed like I knew what I was doing. Or have you just gotten that good at faking it?” Hoseok can’t help but add bitterly, immediately hating the way it makes Yoongi’s eyes widen, dropping Hoseok’s hand and stepping back like he’s been hit. “I didn’t mean - I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to say things like that to me. You don’t even know me anymore.”

“Are you not still Min Yoongi?”

“I am, but -“

“Then that’s enough for me.” Hoseok shrugs. Yoongi chews at his bottom lip and Hoseok wants to replace Yoongi’s teeth with his tongue.

“It’s not enough for me. How do you know you want to kiss me if you don’t even know who I am anymore?”

“I know you,” Hoseok insists stubbornly, wishing Yoongi could see the same galaxies in his eyes that he sees.

“No you don’t! You have no idea what I’ve been through or the things I’ve done, you don’t know any of it so it’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair?”

“It’s not fair of me to let you kiss me when you don’t know who you’re really kissing!”

“Hyung,” Hoseok takes a hesitant step forward, voice lowering gently when he sees the tears that have started to cling to the corners of Yoongi’s lashes. “No matter what happened, whether you decide to tell me about it or not, it doesn’t change who you were. Who you will always be to me. Nothing can take away the fact that you’re Min Yoongi, my best friend - my first friend - and my precious hyung and - ”

“Open your eyes, Hoseok!” Yoongi chokes on something that might be a small sob. “You’re not really seeing me! You’re looking at me with your eyes closed and you’re not seeing me as I am now, all fucked up and disgusting. You just look at me and you see me as I used to be. Your good clean wholesome best friend who - surprise - you had a crush on before you knew you liked boys. Your subconscious is just  - is holding onto that boy because of some fucked up childhood trauma, I don’t know.”

Yoongi rakes his fingers through his blonde hair, fingers gripping too tightly at the root. It looks like the words are hurting him to say just as much as they’re hurting Hoseok to hear. He can’t stand seeing Yoongi like this, so unsure and self-loathing.

Now is probably not a good time to admit that he’s in love with him.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. You’re not fucked up and you’re not disgusting, you never could be. But I won’t do it again, if you really don’t want me to.”

Yoongi presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and sucks in a deep, harsh breath.

“Don’t apologize, Seokie. It’s not your fault. Let’s not waste our time fighting anymore, okay?”

Because this might be the only time we get.

“Okay,” Hoseok agrees.

Yoongi never said he didn’t want Hoseok to kiss him again.

Yoongi’s shoulders are tight, hands clasped tightly in front of him as they make the trek back to the campsite together.

Hoseok’s bumps his shoulder against Yoongi’s and forces himself to smile. “You gonna charge me for that?”

Yoongi looks up, eyes widening before a surprised laugh suddenly bubbles out of him.

It’s worth it, Hoseok thinks. It’s worth it to say things I don’t want to say instead of the things I really do as long as it makes Yoongi happy.

*

It’s pathetic how easily Hoseok had almost forgotten. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like years already in Hoseok’s mind, so things that should be fresh in his memory just…slipped away.

“Hyung, do you want seconds? You barely ate anything?” Jimin frowns at Yoongi and reaches out to take his plate. Yoongi shakes his head and places the empty plate on the ground next to him.

He’d been acting weird all dinner.

After their incident in the cave, Yoongi had been surprisingly quick to bounce back and pretend none of it ever happened. (Lucky him.) They didn’t tell the others about the cave - not about its existence or about anything that happened in it.

But over the past hour, Yoongi’d gotten fidgety, barely eating anything and glancing down at his phone every thirty seconds. Hoseok’s getting a bit concerned now, wondering what could have Yoongi’s anxiety spiking so sharply so quickly. He hopes there isn’t anything wrong with Yoongi’s friend, Hyuna, since she seems to be the only person he uses his phone to keep in contact with.

Just as Seokjin looks like he’s going to get involved (and probably force-feed Yoongi himself), Yoongi stands quickly, phone clutched in his hand.

“I have to make a call.”

Jungkook pouts. “We’re about to have s’mores! Can’t you make your call later?”

“I can’t, it’s - I have an appointment.”

“An appointment.” Namjoon raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“I have -“ Yoongi’s eyes flicker over to Hoseok, expression clouding with guilt. “I have to take it. It’s work.”

A tight hand wraps around Hoseok’s lungs, an illusion of fantasy shattering around him. He had almost forgotten.

“Work,” he repeats, trying to keep his voice steady, for Yoongi’s sake if nothing else.

Jungkook and Taehyung look up at Yoongi in surprise, then quickly down at their feet. Jimin pushes the scraps off of his plate into the fire, not looking up from the flames.

“Yeah, just,” Yoongi shoots Seokjin and Namjoon a weak grin, “I have a call with a client who’s willing to pay me to work…remotely. It’ll just be an hour or so. You know how it is.”

“I don’t, actually,” Soekjin says coolly.

Yoongi physically flinches at that. Seokjin knows Yoongi is lying, and Yoongi knows Seokjin knows he’s lying.

Hoseok doesn’t think Yoongi has ever lied to Seokjin before.

He avoids looking at any of them, holding his phone to the base of his throat like he’s trying to choke himself with it, turns on his heels, and walks quickly away. Hoseok follows after him, knowing it’s a bad idea but not able to stop himself from at least trying.

He grabs Yoongi’s wrist, immediately dropping it again when Yoongi freezes and jerks away from him. Hoseok holds his hands up in surrender, trying to work the words out in his head. Yoongi is staring at him warily, and Hoseok has done quite enough to put their relationship on thin ice today already.

“You… You don’t have to, you know?”

“I do, actually.” Yoongi holds his gaze defiantly.

“The world will keep turning, Yoongi.” Hoseok tries again, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He can feel his friends’ curious stares on his back and steps closer, lowering his voice. “If you don’t make that call right now, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Maybe if Mommy and Daddy were still paying my rent for me like yours, I could afford to have that mindset.” Yoongi hisses. “But I need the money, Hoseok. I always need the money, don’t you get that? I’m not doing this for fun, okay? I’m doing it because I’m trying to - to survive!”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Hoseok asks quietly. Yoongi’s anger slides off of his face, expression going carefully blank.

“I’m keeping my head above water. It’s the best I can hope for right now, and this road trip doesn’t change that. Please, I know you’re trying to protect me or whatever? But I don’t need you to.”

Yoongi turns and walks away. Hoseok doesn’t go back to his seat by the fire until he hears the tent zipped shut and knows that Yoongi isn’t going to change his mind.

The fire crackles between the six of them, smoke clouding their expressions from each other.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asks quietly next to him.

“I don’t think I can be if he isn’t.”

The truth of it nearly chokes Hoseok, the weight of his own words heavy in his lungs.

Jimin blinks, startled by his answer. Hoseok can’t remember a time he’s ever answered Jimin with anything other than ‘I’m okay. I’m fine.’ Even when he’s not - even when he’s really not, Hoseok never lets the rest of them see. He just smiles and nods until he feels like his head is going to roll right off of his neck.

He just wants them all to be happy, so he carries it all, the weight of all his sadness that’s been weighing him down for years, by himself. He couldn’t bear to add to Seokjin and Namjoon’s own sadness, and the kids were too happy and carefree to be saddled with it.

Yoongi used to help him carry it. His hyung used to take some of his sadness or his anxiety from him, because with Yoongi, Hoseok could always let the ever-smiling mask slide off. But for years now, it’s been just him.

“You can’t put that kind of burden on yourself, Hobi-hyung. You can’t just take someone else’s sadness and make it yours,” Jimin tells him gently.

Hoseok smiles at Jimin, feeling it pull too tight at his cheeks.

“Watch me.”

Jimin looks like he wants to argue more, but sits back and chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully instead. Across the fire, Seokjin suddenly ducks his face into Namjoon’s neck, his boyfriend rubbing his back soothingly. Jimin winces. “Someone has to tell them.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, heart splintering guiltily at the tremble in Seokjin’s shoulders and the pain written across Namjoon’s face. “But it can’t be us.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I have no idea. Yoongi doesn’t talk until he’s ready. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.”

Jimin’s soft brown hair tickles his cheek, but Hoseok thinks if the younger moves away from him right now he might fall apart.

There’s a heaviness that settles over the entire campsite, spreads dark and melancholy like the smoke tendrils the spiral into the air. Hoseok hates it, can never stand to see his friends sad. Especially Jungkook and Taehyung, heads resting together and staring despondently into the fire.

Hoseok isn’t sure what’s sadder: Jungkook and Taehyung, who have known Yoongi for so short a time, but know exactly what he’s doing in that tent, or Seokjin and Namjoon, who have known Yoongi their entire lives, and have no idea what his ‘work’ is.

It’s all sad, Hoseok decides.

He takes a deep breath and sits up, clapping his hands to get his friends’ attention, pasting on a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as brittle as it feels.

“What are we all sitting around for? I thought we were gonna make s’mores, right?”

Jungkook and Taehyung look up, hesitant grins spreading on their faces. Jimin gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and even Seokjin pulls his face away from Namjoon’s neck and cracks a ghost of a smile. Just like that, the sombre mood is broken. It’s Hoseok’s best party trick these days.

Hoseok hesitates when the others start moving around, tossing bags of marshmallows and graham crackers across the fire to each other. The lamp is still on in the tent where Yoongi sits alone, long shadows cast along the walls, and it feels wrong to be making s’mores and pretending nothing is wrong when Yoongi is right there selling fragments of his soul to people who don’t appreciate them like they do.

“Come on,” Jimin nudges him gently. “We can make some for Yoongi-hyung and set them aside so there’s actually something left for him after Jungkook and Jin-hyung are finished.”

Yoongi’s shadow twists and turns like he’s looking right back at him.

By the time Yoongi comes back, Hoseok has eaten five s’mores.

He walks warily towards the group, moving forward in tiny shuffles of his feet like he’s not sure if he’s welcome anymore. Seokjin pretends not to notice him, but he only lasts about five seconds before sighing heavily and scooting over, patting the seat between himself and Namjoon. Yoongi slips into it, moving around the fire like a ghost, taking one of Namjoon’s hands and resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. His lips move in a shape that might be an apology, but the smoke makes it too hazy for Hoseok to know for sure.

“You’re lucky,” Seokjin clucks his tongue at Yoongi. “Hobi saved you some s’mores.”

Yoongi’s head pops up, eyes crinkling happily. “You did?”

“It was Jimin’s idea!” Hoseok blurts. Jungkook and Taehyung snicker at his outburst and Hoseok feels his cheeks flaming. It’s not from his proximity to the fire.

Jimin rolls his eyes and picks up the plate they’d set aside for Yoongi standing it and passing it over the fire to him.

“Thanks.” Yoongi ducks his head appreciatively, glancing at Hoseok out of the corner of his eye. The corner of his mouth quirks up, eyes asking forgiveness for his sharp words earlier.

Hoseok grants it to him, smiling back, because he was never angry with Yoongi in the first place. He’s not sure he ever could be.

Yoongi doesn’t have his phone with him anymore, Hoseok notices. He must have left it in the tent. Yoongi eats three s’mores and licks every drop of melted chocolate right off of his fingertips. Hoseok tries not to stare too blatantly, but it feels like another one of Yoongi’s statements, and Hoseok can never look away when Yoongi speaks with his body.

It’s late when the first howl pierces the air.

It’s so loud and so close that it makes Hoseok jump right out of his seat, landing on his ass in the dirt.

Right on the tailbone. Of course.

Everyone laughs, but no one louder than Taehyung with his breathless giggles, the culprit of the howl that startled Hoseok in the first place.

“What the hell was that!”

Taehyung laughs, lips pulling back to reveal rows of perfectly straight white teeth. “It’s a full moon! Look!”

Before anyone can respond, Taehyung tosses his head back and lets out another ear-splitting howl. Jungkook giggles, falling against Taehyung’s side and throwing back his own head to join in.

Hoseok watches them, Jungkook nearly incoherent with laughter, and Taehyung with his face bathed in moonlight and eyes fluttered closed.

They look burden-less and free.

Hoseok looks over at Jimin and they both crack crazed grins before throwing their heads back and joining in the madness. It feels as good as it looked, and with each exhale Hoseok feels a weight expelling from his chest.

It isn’t everything. It can’t be everything. But for right now, it feels so damn good.

After a few more seconds, Hoseok hears Seokjin and Namjoon’s voices join the fray, all of their howls mingling together into a discordant, yet somehow harmonic, song.

“Yoongi-hyung!” Taehyung shouts over the sound of all of their howling. “Try it! Come on, trust me!”

Yoongi bites at his bottom lip, and for a moment Hoseok feels his heart sink because it looks like Yoongi is going to force himself to shut everything in again. But then, Yoongi takes a deep breath, so deep Hoseok can imagine it filling his lungs, blooming in the fragile cage of his chest. He throws his blonde head back to expose the elegant lines of his neck, parts his lips, and he howls.

It’s raw and cracked and so fucking beautiful Hoseok kind of wants to cry. But he doesn’t cry. He just closes his eyes and turns his face up towards the full moon and keeps on howling with the rest of them. Seokjin and Namjoon each have one of Yoongi’s hands in theirs, Jimin’s elbow is still linked through Hoseok’s, and Jungkook’s on his back with his head in Taehyung’s lap.

’That’s right, we’re a pack,’ Hoseok wants to tell Yoongi. ‘You’re one of us and we’ll take care of you, now.’

Hoseok doesn’t say it. Not with words. He doesn’t have to. He just howls.

*

The muffled sounds of Yoongi crying quietly wakes Hoseok in the middle of the night.

They’re just tiny, tiny wet gasps, broken and buried into what sounds like Yoongi’s pillow, but they’re enough to splinter Hoseok’s heart into about a billion pieces. He wants so badly to go over to Yoongi, lay down next to him and hold him close to his chest. But Hoseok panics because he doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing and what if he just makes everything worse?

So he just lays there and pretends to still be asleep.

Jimin wakes up not long after Hoseok, and Hoseok hears him crawl out of his sleeping bag and into Yoongi’s. Hears Yoongi’s crying get louder, Jimin whispering quiet assurances until Yoongi is quiet. Sniffly, but quiet.

Jimin hums softly, a song that Hoseok recognizes from the times when Taehyung or Jungkook got sick and Jimin stuffed them full of warm soup and tucked them into bed. Jimin has a good voice for lulling people to sleep, all breathy and sweet, high and gentle like a summer breeze.

Hoseok wouldn’t have been able to do that for Yoongi anyways, so it’s good. It’s good that it’s Jimin and not him.

It takes a while, but finally Yoongi falls back asleep, the familiar sound of his deep, slow breathing filling the tent. Hoseok rolls over because he knows Jimin has known he was really awake the whole time. Jimin peers back at him in the dark over the top of Yoongi’s head tucked against his chest. Hoseok’s own chest suddenly feels terribly empty.

“Coward,” Jimin whispers into the darkness, though the word is devoid of any real malice.

“He wouldn’t have wanted me.”

“You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”

“Thanks, Jimin,” Hoseok says drily. He tugs his sleeping bag up to his chin, watches Jimin’s fingers delicately pet the top of Yoongi’s head. “Thanks, Jimin,” he repeats, more sincerely, feeling his heart clench like it’s wrapped in a tight fist.

“If you want him to stay so bad, you have to start telling him.” Jimin pushes Yoongi’s hair gently away from his eyes, and Hoseok thinks Jimin should tell Yoongi he wants him to stay. Maybe they all should.

“I tried. I think I scared him.”

Hoseok can just barely make out the shape of Jimin’s lips pursing thoughtfully in the shadows splay across his face.

“Maybe what happened didn’t mean what you think it did?”

”You can’t.” Yoongi’s voice and panicked eyes prick at his brain like thorns.

“I dunno Jimin. I really just don’t know what to do now.”

“Do what you’ve always done. Be his best friend. Let him come to his decision on his own, and accept whatever it is he chooses to do because you love him.”

“I almost wish I had forgotten him,” Hoseok lies.

“No, you don’t.” Jimin carefully extracts himself from Yoongi, smoothing the older boy’s hair out of his eyes one last time, and slips out of his sleeping bag and back into his own. “You wouldn’t be who you are without him - even just the memory of him - and we all happen to really love the person you turned out to be.”

Jimin’s right. Hoseok can practically see it when he looks at the purple and blue tendrils of veins climbing up his forearm, the way that Yoongi is so much a part of who he is. The older boy is literally woven into his DNA.

“Love you, too,” Hoseok whispers to Jimin, watching the peaceful look on Yoongi’s face as he sleeps. He presses two fingers to his own wrist, feelings his pulse, and it’s like he can feel Yoongi right there.

*

This is a great place for skipping stones.

After a few hours of driving in the morning, they finally reached the last destination of their trip, and it’s a perfect balance of the first two places - right along the water, but not sandy or rocky, just pebbly and shaded by a large canopy of trees around them. The water is still like a lake instead of rolling and crashing with waves, and Yoongi likes to skip stones. Hoseok remembers that.

“It always annoyed me how good he was at that,” Namjoon says, gesturing towards Yoongi, teaching the younger three how to skip stones on the water’s edge with patient fingers holding their wrists. He drops down onto the ground next to Hoseok, pulling his bare knees up to his chest. “It’s all physics, so by all accounts, I should have been the best at it. But it was always Yoongi-hyung.”

It looks like Jimin and Taehyung are catching on quickly, but Jungkook’s rocks keep sinking with despondent plops. With the way the others are laughing, Hoseok is half convinced that Yoongi is giving him the worst rocks to skip on purpose.

“He’s doing it on purpose,” Seokjin notes, appearing at Hoseok’s other side, reading his mind. He sits, too, but unlike Namjoon, he stretches his long legs straight out in front of him, leaning back on his elbows. “Jungkookie is infuriatingly good at everything, even things he’s never tried before. Yoongi is sabotaging him.”

“He is,” Hoseok agrees.

The three of them sit quietly together and watch as Jungkook gets frustrated and throws a huge fistful of stones into the water, stomping his feet angrily. Jimin and Taehyung hide their giggles behind their hands, amused at the younger’s tantrum.

Yoongi comes up and puts a gentle hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, leading him away from the other two and back to the water, picking out a new stone for him to throw. He nudges a pouty Jungkook in the arm until the boy relents and finally tries again.

This time, the stone goes skimming across the water with expert precision.

Jungkook’s entire face lights up and he crushes Yoongi into a hug while Taehyung and Jimin clap animatedly from the sidelines. Yoongi’s face is crinkled into a huge grin, gums flashing, as he ruffles Jungkook’s hair affectionately.

“He’s still him, isn’t he?” Namjoon asks. It’s hard not to think it in that moment, Hoseok also finding the familiarity in Yoongi’s gentle guidance and fond smiles that they’ve all been on the receiving end of many times. “No matter what happened, he’s the same as he’s always been.”

“Yup.”

“You won’t tell us, will you?” Seokjin sounds resigned.

“I really don’t have anything to tell you.” Hoseok slides his sunglasses from his face to perch on top of his head, letting his friends see the honesty in his eyes. He still doesn’t know himself why Yoongi left, his own mind still a jumble of puzzle pieces that he hasn’t been able to put together yet, and Yoongi’s life now is his own story to tell.

Seokjin tosses a rock in the general direction of the water with a heavy sigh. “I was never as patient as you, Hobi. We’re supposed to, what? Just pretend nothing is wrong? Wait around for him to decide to tell us the truth, or for him to decide to just up and leave without even telling us again? I’m not okay with that. I’m not just going to sit around and wait for that.”

“We’re not waiting for anything. Yoongi is right here, now. We’re just supposed to be his best friends.”

Namjoon breaks a twig in his hands in half, then in half again. Tosses the pieces onto the ground.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Namjoon knows that he doesn’t need to clarify any further.

“I’m not even sure what I would tell him.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Wait, don’t tell me you just figured all this out? Like, just this week?”

“Just yesterday, I think. Maybe the day before.”

Namjoon whistles low and Seokjin looks like his eyes are going to bug out of his head. Hoseok wonders how long they’ve known he was in love with Yoongi.

Just thinking the words has his mind fizzling with pleasure and something terrifying.

There’s a loud shout from down by the water. Jungkook has Yoongi on his back and is spinning in circles as fast as he can, arms hooked under Yoongi’s knees with the elder’s arms wrapped around his neck. Yoongi’s eyes are squeezed shut tightly, like not looking will make it any less scary.

“You might not get another chance to tell him. You know that, right?”

Hoseok closes his eyes at Namjoon’s words, lets his head tip back towards the sky.

“I know.”

Not looking doesn’t make it any less scary.

“You’re not gonna go swimming?”

Yoongi lays out a towel and sits on the ground next to Hoseok. There’s a flush to his cheeks, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his back t-shirt sticks slightly to his chest. The kids had worn him out after a few hours, but were still going strong themselves, screeching and laughing, throwing off their shirts as they sprinted into the water.

“Are you?” Hoseok asks.

“Nah,” Yoongi laughs, putting his arms behind his head and laying back. “I think I’m about maxed out for the day. Where did Jin-hyung and Namjoon go?”

“Making a beer run. Apparently, we seriously under-estimated how much a group of seven guys in their twenties could drink.”

“Oh, good,” Yoongi deadpans. “More beer.”

“No one’s making you drink it, you big baby.”

Yoongi sniffs. “It’s principle.”

“You’re so weird.” Hoseok reaches over and shoves lightly at his shoulder. “You like it here, hyung?”

“Mhm.”

“We should move somewhere like this some day, don’t you think?” Hoseok says carefully.

Yoongi’s eyes dart over to him, blinking rapidly. He remembers. Hoseok knows he does.

“If you… Yeah, if you still want to.”

“Will it still make you happy?” Hoseok asks and Yoongi nods. “Then of course I still want to.”

Yoongi purses his lips and lets the corners tug up into a grin, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know things are different now, don’t you? I mean, you know that we’re different?”

“You still seem the same to me, hyung.”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “That’s the problem,” he whispers almost too low for Hoseok to hear.

“You’re still you when you’re with me, hyung. Remember you said that?” Yoongi’s eyes slowly blink open, expression open and vulnerable. “Well, I’m still here. Which means you’re still you, and I’ve always been just me, so we’re still us, right?”

Yoongi sighs and shakes his head. “‘Just’ you? God, you really have no idea, do you?”

Hoseok is going to ask him what he means by that, but he’s cut off by the sound of a car door swinging open and Seokjin crooning, “Honey, I’m home!”

Yoongi cracks an eye open, groaning. “He still does that?”

“Every single time he gets back from the store. We tried to ban him from family sitcoms, but he turned to soap operas instead and started accusing Namjoon of actually being his own evil twin brother.”

“Wow. Jin-hyung is truly amazing.”

Seokjin waves the younger three over and they all come trudging in from the water, toweling off their shoulders and chests. Jimin scrubs Jungkook’s hair dry for him as they walk over, Jungkook whining that Jimin is rubbing too hard and Taehyung carefully keeping his own head out of Jimin’s reach.

“You’re dripping on me!” Yoongi whines, scooting away from Taehyung who laughs and shakes his head like a wet dog, then plops down next to him and reaches into his backpack, pulling out a lollipop for himself and one for Yoongi, too. Yoongi accepts the peace offering grudgingly and Taehyung beams at him.

“That’s not beer,” Jungkook points at the plastic grocery bag in Seokjin’s hand. Namjoon isn’t holding any cases either. “Or is it really tiny beer?”

“It’s really tiny beer.”

“Really?”

“No.” Seokjin smacks the back of his head, ducking quickly out of the way when Jungkook tries to retaliate. Seokjin looks at Yoongi and he grins mischievously. “I noticed that Yoongi-yah here has lost his taste for beer.”

“It’s not that bad,” Yoongi lies weakly.

“Oh?” Seokjin raises both eyebrows, reaching into the plastic bag. “Well, then I guess I’ll just run back to the store and return this if you don’t want it.”

There’s a handle of vodka in one of his hands and a liter of soda in the other.

Yoongi looks up at Seokjin with stars in his eyes. “Oh my god, I love you.”

Hoseok doesn’t think it’s a very good idea, but Yoongi is grinning maniacally with his lollipop stick poking out of his mouth and Seokjin is puffed up with pride, and there’s probably nothing Hoseok could do to stop them if he tried.

They plug Namjoon’s phone into the aux cord of Hoseok’s car and turn the stereo as loud as it will go, leaving all of the doors and even the trunk open to let the sound out into the night air. Namjoon gets a fire going because even though it isn’t quite dark yet, by the time it does get dark, it would probably be best if none of them try any pyrotechnics.

(Been there, done that - Taehyung emerged alive, but with one less eyebrow for a few months. Because he’s Taehyung, he didn’t fill it in once the entire time it was growing back and instead of laughing at him, everyone just thought he was cutting-edge cool, as usual.)

They skip dinner in favor of bags of chips and cheesy things that they have to lick off of their fingers, cracking open the handle, passing around a bunch of solo cups, and starting the night with a group shot that they cheers over the campfire.

Hoseok meets Yoongi’s eye over the rims of their cups, all crowded messily together, and Yoongi gives him a quirk of a grin before tossing his head back and swallowing the entire shot with barely a grimace. Hoseok doesn’t realize that he’s frozen, staring as Yoongi licks a stray drop of vodka from his top lip, until Jungkook nudges him and taps the bottom of his solo cup.

“Drink up, Hobi-hyung,” he says teasingly. Hoseok stares into the clear liquid and resigns himself to his fate.

Jungkook and Taehyung have already lost their shirts after barely half an hour and Jimin and Yoongi are locked in a heated drinking competition. Hoseok honestly can’t tell who’s winning and that in itself is terrifying because they are two of the toughest drinkers he’s ever known.

Namjoon and Hoseok are taking turns tossing cheese balls over the fire and trying to land them in Seokjin’s open mouth.

“What if one of them catches on fire?” Hoseok asks, lazily tossing another.

Namjoon blinks wide eyes, freezing with his hand poised to throw again. “Babe! Don’t eat anything that’s on fire!”

Seokjin scoffs and rolls his eyes at his boyfriend fondly.

“I think I’d need a few more shots in me before I actually started eating flaming cheese balls, y’know?”

“More shots?” Jungkook shouts, seemingly appearing out of nowhere at the magic words, Taehyung right behind him.

“Oh, no, that’s not what I -“ Seokjin starts to protest, but Taehyung has already pulled the handle of vodka out from behind his back and held it high in the air.

“On your knees, Jin-hyung!”

“Excuse you, only Namjoon can say that to me.”

“Jin!” Namjoon’s cheeks flame brighter than the fire.

“Oh my god, ew,” Jungkook groans, covering his ears with his hands. Taehyung waits, bouncing on his toes, and Seokjin finally gives in, sinking to his knees and tilting his open mouth up so that Taehyung can pour the alcohol into his mouth.

They make Namjoon go next, and then of course they turn on Hoseok. He tries to argue, but Jungkook and Taehyung could probably convince the Pope to burn a bible with those North Star-twinkling eyes of theirs.

When Hoseok gets to his feet again, the world tilts around him for a few seconds. He’s only had three shots, but he’s been sipping on a mixed drink, too, and his heart is starting to feel light and there’s a pleasant burn right in the center of his chest.

“Maybe… We should do another?” Hoseok blinks, feels a lazy smile spread across his face. He feels loose and not like the world is weighing on his shoulders for the first time since - he can’t remember. Probably the last time he was too drunk to remember Yoongi.

Jungkook and Taehyung cheer, refilling everyone’s cups. Seokjin presses a quick kiss to Namjoon’s slightly pursed lips as the younger boy stares hesitantly into his cup, then interlocks their elbows and the two of them down their shots at the same time.

“Ha!” Jimin suddenly shouts, jumping out of his chair and pointing at Yoongi. “I win!”

“I di’n’t puke,” Yoongi protests, rising from his chair on wobbling legs and pouting.

“But I finished first.” Jimin proudly turns his cup upside down to prove it’s empty. Yoongi scowls and lifts his own cup to his lips, downing everything that’s left without flinching.

“I win, too,” he declares. Jimin sighs good-naturedly and throws an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders. It’s weird to think of someone as small compared to Jimin, but Yoongi looks sharp and delicate tucked against Jimin’s side.

“Okay, fine. You’re lucky you’re cute, hyung.”

Yoongi’s face turns an endearing shade of pink. Ridiculously cute.

Hoseok swallows hard. “Hey, Tae?” He holds out his cup and Taehyung’s smile is borderline dangerous as he fills it back up.

They turn the music on after that.

Or, no wait, the music was on the whole time. Hoseok just didn’t notice it before. Just didn’t feel it reverberating through the air, through the ground, through his bones before.

Jungkook has both of Yoongi’s hands in his, swaying his arms to the music and tugging until Yoongi finally breaks and actively joins in, loose-lipped, gummy smile and bright, hazy eyes.

Everything is sort of hazy at that point, but Hoseok recalls Jimin grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him into one of their hip hop dance routines. They lazily go through the steps, movements not as sharp as they usually are, and with a lot more improvised body rolls that leave them both holding their stomachs with laughter.

Hoseok lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe some of the beading sweat from his forehead and when he lowers it back down, Yoongi catches his eye and licks his lips, taking a long sip of his mixed drink.

At some point, Taehyung climbs into the car and pulls up the Agust D mixtape on Namjoon’s phone. He and Jimin immediately start to chant for Yoongi to rap for them. The elder blinks confusedly at them for a few moments before the lyrics filter into his brain and he laughs, grabbing Jungkook’s baseball hat off his head and placing it backwards on his own.

Yoongi starts to sing along, raspy growls and high whines that make Hoseok feel like he can’t get enough air into his chest. Soon, though, Yoongi gestures for Namjoon and Hoseok to join him, and Hoseok gets even drunker off the familiarity of it - of Yoongi’s growls and Namjoon’s smooth baritone and his own voice, twisting and pitching up and down to compliment both of them perfectly.

Seokjin joins in even though he can’t rap for shit, because he spent just as many hours as the three of them helping Yoongi with his mixtape, and there’s no way they could have kept Taehyung and Jimin from joining in as well.

Jungkook occasionally throws in his own random free styling that actually isn’t that bad at all. Whenever he does, Yoongi holds a fake microphone up to Jungkook’s lips and hypes him up, with yeahs and uh huhs and that’s rights.

It’s probably not actually the most perfect moment to ever exist in all of time and space, but to Hoseok it is.

With everyone he loves most, every piece of his heart here in one place together, smiling and hanging off of each other’s shoulders, buzzing with laughter and dancing with pure abandon.

Yeah, to Hoseok this is perfect.

The dancing and the drinking catches up to them.

Namjoon turns down the stereo to a low murmur and they all collapse around the campfire, heads pleasantly fuzzy, staring into the flames or up at the stars.

“I can’t believe we have to go back in a few days,” Jungkook sighs, one arm stretched lazily above his head, tracing constellations that may or may not really be there.

Hoseok chooses a favorite star, not the brightest or the biggest, one that just hangs in his periphery with defined edges and a flickering light. He doesn’t look away from it as he reaches over blindly, finding Yoongi’s pinky already searching out his, and hooking them together.

Jungkook’s reminder that it’ll all be over too soon is a harsh one, but it stings less with even a piece of Yoongi that he can hold onto. (Because maybe if he keeps holding on, he won’t have to let go.)

“It won’t be so bad,” Seokjin consoles. “Don’t you start your internship when we get back?”

“The one at the local art gallery?” Hoseok asks, wracking his brain to try and remember the name of it, but coming up short.

“Yup!” Jungkook confirms, voice suddenly much happier than before. “The same one Tae used to intern at! He got me the hook up.”

“I barely did anything,” Taehyung disagrees. “They loved you without me having to say a thing. You’re portfolio is amazing, Kookie. You’ll probably be featured in that gallery one day.”

Hoseok can’t see, but he’d bet money Jungkook is blushing.

“Not before you, hyung.”

“Ah, you’re both so talented,” Seokjin compliments. “But how is it that I’m friends with two of the best artists in the city, and neither of them has made a sculpture of me yet? A mural? Not even a charcoal sketch?”

“Don’t feel bad, Jin-hyung. Isn’t Namjoon-hyung’s thesis paper about you?” Jimin asks innocently.

“What? No, his thesis is about the impact of social media in cultivating Narcissistic Personality Disorder in - okay. I see what you did there. Very funny, Jimin.”

Hoseok laughs along with the others, but Yoongi is suspiciously quiet beside him.

“If anyone is getting a big ego around here, it’s you and Hobi!”

“Hey!” Hoseok protests at being dragged into the argument.

“Ever since the two of you got those teaching apprenticeships,” Seokjin clucks his tongue in mock disappointment, “your heads are the size of Jungkook’s biceps!”

“Thank you,” Jungkook quips.

Hoseok rolls his eyes up at the sky, but doesn’t bother arguing with Seokjin. Underneath all of the bickering, Seokjin was prouder of them than anyone else. He’d made that clear by baking them both a huge cake with ornate decorating and bottles of champagne when they’d found out they’d been approved for the apprenticeship program at the nearby dance school.

Yoongi’s pinky tightens around his. Hoseok’s little star begins to flicker and dim.

“Don’t tease them,” Namjoon chides his boyfriend. “They worked hard to get to where they are. Everyone did, right? We’ve all earned the good things we’ve been given in life.”

“They know I’m kidding,” Seokjin huffs. “I just want to freeze time right here, and stop us all from graduating. We’ll all be finished with school before we know it.”

“Taehyungie? Pass me that drink?” Yoongi asks, voice quiet and scratchy.

“Sure, hyung,” Taehyung says. Yoongi’s pinky slips out of his as he sits up. Hoseok glances up at him but in the faint light of the fire he can only make out the shadows of the blonde boy’s eyelashes on his cheeks and the bob of his throat as he takes a few quick swallows of the drink all at once.

Yoongi glances down at him, but when he meets Hoseok’s eye, he looks away quickly.

Hoseok looks back up at the sky but he can’t find his little star again.

He can’t stop looking for it, even as his friends around him chat about their life plans, about Taehyung’s newest collection of paintings and how the restaurant Seokjin cooks for is going to promote him to a higher position at one of their more upscale locations, about Jungkook’s internship and Namjoon’s thesis possibly getting published next month, about Jimin and Hoseok’s apprenticeship as dance teachers in the Spring.

The sky is so dark and vast and there are so many stars out there, but Hoseok can’t stop looking for his.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything other than to ask Namjoon to pass him the rest of the alcohol.

Maybe if Hoseok hadn’t been so stuck in his own head, he would have noticed what was happening and cut Yoongi off hours ago.

But he was so intent on hanging onto the moment, the perfect moment, that he didn’t take Yoongi’s silence and continued drinking for what it was - totally and completely self-destructive.

The rest of them had stopped drinking a while ago and were starting to sober up and get ready to head off to bed, but Yoongi hadn’t stopped and there was now a bright red flush to his cheeks and a dazed look in his eyes as he hangs off of Seokjin’s neck as the older boy tries to help him to his feet.

“Yoongi-yah, I need you to - can you work with me here? You might be small but you’re - ow! You’re sharp! Watch your elbows!”

Yoongi giggles and lets his head fall forward into the center of Seokjin’s broad chest. Seokjin sighs and looks skyward, arms holding Yoongi carefully in place because it looks like the younger boy’s legs are currently incapable of keeping him up.

“Here, hyung, you should drink some water.” Namjoon nudges Yoongi’s arm with the bottle in his hand. Yoongi blinks up at him and flashes him a cheeky grin.

“Nah.”

Namjoon sighs. “Hyung, you really need -“

“How ‘bout,” Yoongi cuts him off loudly. “How ‘bout you can tell me what to do when you become a - a doctor or a scien’tist or rocket man. Or whatever.”

“Rocket man?” Namjoon repeats, raising an eyebrow. Yoongi nods and puts his palms together before shooting them towards the sky with blastoff sound effects. Namjoon chuckles and rolls his eyes, grabbing Yoongi by the wrist, trying to force him to take the water bottle.

The second Namjoon’s hand wraps around Yoongi’s wrist, the smaller boy goes completely rigid, eyes flashing with panic.

“Don’t! Don’ touch me!”

Namjoon pulls back quickly, stepping away with his hands raised. Yoongi twists in Seokjin’s grasp until the older boy lets go as well, and Yoongi falls to his knees on the ground, arms wrapping protectively like a vice around himself.

“Hyung,” Namjoon whispers horrified, eyes wide. Seokjin looks half a second from throwing up, watching Yoongi with eyes that are too knowing.

Seokjin and Namjoon are smart. It won’t take much for them to put the pieces together now.

Jimin’s got his arms around both Taehyung and Jungkook’s shoulders, the younger two looking close to tears.

“Yoongi-hyung?” Hoseok crouches down in front of his friend, cautiously reaching out with just one finger.

Yoongi looks up at him with wide, tear-rimmed eyes, gaze going immediately to Hoseok’s pinky finger between them. With shaky movements, Yoongi unwraps his arms from around himself and winds his long, thin pinky around Hoseok’s.

“How about we go to bed now, hm? You’ll feel better once you sleep this off, love.” The term of endearment slips out of Hoseok’s mouth before he can stop it, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind. He takes a few deep breaths to calm down, looking much more like himself again.

Yoongi nods and stands, staggering only slightly on his feet. Seokjin moves to catch him in case he falls, but quickly pulls his arms back to his sides. If Yoongi notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

Hoseok reaches out for Yoongi’s hand, threading their fingers together and leading him towards their tent, the only sound accompanying their exit being the crackle of the fire.

He can hear them all out there, talking in low murmurs as he sits Yoongi down on a pile of blankets, sliding off his shoes and his jeans, leaving the blonde boy in just a hoodie and his briefs. He works methodically, not letting his hands, his mind, or his eyes stray anywhere they shouldn’t. Yoongi is quiet, just soft puffs of breath from between his parted lips as he watches Hoseok work with half-lidded eyes.

Eventually, the voices outside the tent go quiet and Jimin is ducking into the tent, grabbing his pillow and telling them that he’s going to sleep in Taehyung and Jungkook’s tent for the night.

“Goodnight, hyungs,” he says, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Yoongi frowns, clearly noticing, and shyly opens his arms, waiting for a hug. Jimin’s eyes widen, but he slowly crawls over to Yoongi and wraps his arms around him carefully. Yoongi’s arms tighten around him because he hates it, Hoseok knows. He hates the thought of them all treating him like he’s made of glass now.

Luckily, Jimin takes the hint and squeezes back just as tight. “I told you you’d wanna hug me,” he murmurs into the top of Yoongi’s head and the older boy laughs.

“Brat,” he says fondly, shooing Jimin away.

“Are you sure you don’t want any water before bed, hyung?” Hoseok asks once it’s just the two of them again, turning on his knees and pulling his t-shirt over his head so he can change into his pajamas. He doesn’t want to nag Yoongi, but he also doesn’t want him to have to suffer through a nasty hangover tomorrow.

He doesn’t get an answer. What he gets instead are arms wrapped around his waist and a warm pair of lips pressed to the back of his neck.

“Woah!” Hoseok jumps, not expecting the sudden touch.

Yoongi is on his knees behind him, so close there’s barely an inch of space between them. He doesn’t look scared and vulnerable anymore - he looks hungry. Eyelashes lowered and pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. Hoseok swallows hard, but it doesn’t feel like he has any saliva left in his mouth.

“Hyung, what are you -?” Hoseok’s words are cut off as Yoongi shoves at his shoulders, hard, and Hoseok is falling back onto his sleeping bag. Yoongi wastes no time, movements still a little uncoordinated as he climbs over Hoseok, straddling his waist.

“You’re,” Yoongi places both palms on Hoseok’s chest and drags them down, stare burning on his bare skin. “You’re s’gorgeous, Seok-ah.”

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, willing his heart to stop trying to race out of his chest and begging his cock to understand why he cannot do this.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok grabs the older boy’s wrists to stop their descent down his body, leaving his eyes shut because he’s only human and if he has to look at Yoongi’s galaxy eyes and petal lips he might grow weak. “Yoongi, stop. We’re not - I won’t do this to you.”

He can’t see Yoongi’s devastating pout, but he can still hear it in his voice.

“You’re not doing anythin’ I don’ want you to. You’re actually not doin’ enough to me.”

“You’re drunk, Yoongi. Like, drunk drunk, which means that you don’t know what you want right now.”

“I know I want you.” Hoseok’s eyes fly open, as Yoongi’s voice gets pleading. “Seokie, please, I want you, please.”

He looks so needy, so desperate for Hoseok and it’s like something out of one of his wildest dreams. Yoongi, with his rosy lips pouted and his eyes dark and starving, his ass pressed right against Hoseok’s groin. He shouldn’t want this but it’s Yoongi for fuck’s sake and there’s literally no logic to how badly he wants his best friend.

Yoongi apparently sees the hesitation in Hoseok’s face, the brief flicker of weakness, and his pout twists into a self-satisfied smirk. He leans forward, eyelids lowering, and he’s going to kiss him.

Yoongi is going to kiss Hoseok.

Hoseok turns his face to the side at the last second.

Yoongi’s lips land on his jaw, right below his ear, and it isn’t much better but it does allow Hoseok to take a deep gulping breath and try to compose himself.

“Yoongi, you need to stop. Let’s just go to sleep now and talk about this in the morning when you’re - oh, shit, please don’t do that, fuck.”

He can feel Yoongi huff out a small laugh against the side of his neck, teeth tugging on Hoseok’s earlobe. Hoseok didn’t even know that was a sensitive spot of his, but with Yoongi’s teeth and his tongue nibbling and licking, it suddenly feels like his ear is directly attached to his dick. Fuck, how did Yoongi know that such a tiny act could make him so weak?

Because he’s got plenty of practice, a tiny, traitorous part of Hoseok’s brain whispers.

His brain suddenly takes back control of his movements from his dick.

Because he’s not like those men. He won’t be like those men who let their own pleasure take precedence over Yoongi’s well-being.

Hoseok grabs the older boy by the shoulders and gently but firmly pushes him back. Meeting Yoongi’s eyes evenly he says, “You’re drunk.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I’m usually a li’l drunk. Makes it easier sometimes. Kiss me Hoseokie?” He bats his eyelashes and tries to lean in again, but Hoseok holds him in place. Doesn’t let the flutter of Yoongi’s eyelashes and the sweet smell of chocolate on his breath distract him from the gross implications of his words.

“Well this isn’t like that, Yoongi. This is me, your best friend, okay? And I’m not going to take advantage of you, not like - like other people do. You didn’t want me to kiss you before, so I definitely won’t do it now.”

Yoongi blinks down at him earnestly.

“Never said I di’n’t want you to kiss me.”

Hoseok is so caught off guard by Yoongi’s admission, that he lets his hold go slack.

Yoongi grins predatorily down at him, not giving Hoseok a moment to react before he’s grabbed one of Hoseok’s wrists and pulled his hand to his lips, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth.

Hoseok’s brain kind of - short circuits for a few seconds there. All of his senses of rational thoughts drowned out by the feeling of Yoongi’s tongue wrapping around his fingers, sliding between them, swirling around the tips.

“Come on, Seokie,” Yoongi lets Hoseok’s fingers slip out until just the tips are resting on his spit-slick bottom lip. He grins wickedly, eyelids dropping. “You can have anything you want. Don’t you wanna learn more about my oral fixation, hm?” The tip of his tongue traces a line from the center of Hoseok’s palm all the way up to the tip of his middle finger. “This one’s on the house, ‘kay?”

He pushes Yoongi off of him harder than he intended to, the blonde boy landing hard on his ass across the tent. Hoseok scrambles to sit up and pulls his knees to his chest, eyeing Yoongi warily.

Yoongi’s face twists into something angry, something wild and, were it on any other face but his, would probably be ugly. A wry grin curls his lips, and he shakes his head, letting it hang with his hair falling into his eyes.

“You got smart, huh Seokie?” His voice is brittle and jagged as broken glass. “You realized you don’ want me after all.”

“That’s not - What I want has nothing to do with this. It’s just wrong.”

“’S wrong ‘cause I’m a whore.” Yoongi’s fist clenches in his lap, knuckles turning white.

“You’re not -“

“It’s okay.” Yoongi cuts him off. “’S good that you finally see what I really am. ’S okay, Seok-ah. I want better for you.”

Hoseok feels a fierce protectiveness surge up within him.

”No, hyung, that’s not it at all. There is nothing wrong with you. Well, except for the fact that you’re pretty drunk right now -“

“Everything is wrong with me!” Yoongi’s head snaps up, eyes slightly bloodshot and chin trembling. “D’you think I wanted to turn out like this? Of course not! I had - I had plans and, and dreams. I wanted to go to school and have internships and jobs like you guys. I wanted all of that and then, then maybe I would’ve been good enough for you.”

“Hyung,” Hoseok tries to say more, but Yoongi’s face is crumbling and his eyes burn with defiance and longing.

“I didn’t wanna be like this. I didn’t wanna leave, but they didn’t give me a choice.”

Hoseok goes very still, heart hammering in his throat.

“Yoongi-hyung, stop talking. Please, don’t say anything you’ll regret in the morning.”

Yoongi laughs, but it’s cold.

“Regrets, regrets, regrets. What’s one more, right? Don’t you wanna know? Haven’t you been dying to know what happened to me?”

“Of course I have, because you’re my best friend and I was fucking worried about you. We all were. But I don’t want you to tell me like this, I want you to tell me when your mind is clear and you’re really ready.”

Yoongi stares at him for a moment that feels like an eternity. His eyebrows scrunch together and his eyes flicker across Hoseok’s face like he’s trying to read it, trying to find something.

But Hoseok doesn’t have anything to hide from Yoongi - he never has. All of the fight leaves the older boy’s body.

Hoseok lowers his knees and opens his arms, letting Yoongi crawl right up against him, lay his head on his shoulder, breathing broken and tired into the side of his neck.

“Sorry, ‘Seok.” Yoongi sniffles, voice small.

“You don’t have to apologize to me. You don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

“Did stuff to you. You didn’t ask for it. Sorry, ‘Seok.” Yoongi repeats, sounding miserable.

Hoseok shifts Yoongi in his lap, turns him to the side and rests his chin on top of Yoongi’s blonde head. Yoongi rests a hand on Hoseok’s chest, right over his heart.

“You didn’t ask for it either. You didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I don’t need you to tell me for me to know that it wasn’t your choice. It wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid, Yoongi, so whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”

Yoongi goes very, very still in his arms.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. He’s not Seokjin with his natural way of holding Yoongi together when he’s small, he’s not Namjoon with his silent comfort and strong chest, or even Jimin, with his lullabies that reach into people’s hearts and make them warm.

He’s - he’s just Hoseok. He’s just as scared and unsure as Yoongi is, and he may not have a lot to offer right now, but he has the truth.

“You’re enough, Yoongi. You’re so much more than enough. You always have been.”

Finally, with a long, shaky exhale, Yoongi begins to cry.

Throws his arms around Hoseok’s neck and cries loudly enough that Hoseok is sure the other boys must be able to hear them, but Hoseok doesn’t hush him. Doesn’t make him hold anything inside. Just wraps his arms around the older boy’s narrow waist, curls their bodies together, and lets Yoongi cry and cry and cry until he falls asleep, just like that, right in Hoseok’s arms.

*

The world is almost unnaturally quiet the next day. Muted and subdued, seems to move at a slower pace than usual, like the whole world has been submerged underwater. Like the day that follows is part of another reality, removed from this one.

The birds are quiet and the bugs are quiet and the sleep-blurry boys crawling out of their tents and huddling around the campfire are quiet.

Hoseok finds Yoongi a few yards away from everyone else, sitting in a lawn chair. His hair is still messy, flattened down on one side where his head rested on Hoseok’s chest all night long.

Hoseok hadn’t felt him get up and leave in the morning.

The world is still, unbearably molasses-slow as Hoseok drags his own chair over and places himself at Yoongi’s side.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Yoongi asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Ask what?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Yoongi says. “You don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen for my sake. I remember.”

“Okay. Do you want me to ask?”

Yoongi takes a deep, deep breath. Squints up at the early morning sun and seems to be moving slowly, half-speed, as he wets his lips and nods his head with jerky but definitive movements.

“Ask me.”

So Hoseok does.

And as Yoongi talks, time moves at a glacial pace and the blood in Hoseok’s veins is trickling, trickling and this reality is his reality but he wishes it weren’t.

Because this isn’t the reality Yoongi deserves.

Because Yoongi had only been eighteen and he had been Hoseok’s best friend and Seokjin’s best friend and Namjoon’s best fried and he had loved basketball and hip hop music and orange creamsicles and skipping stones and he was brilliant, so brilliant, he could have taken over the world by now.

He could have.

If he didn’t like boys.

If he had parents who didn’t care if he liked boys.

Yoongi had only been eighteen and he was tired because carrying around a secret like his for years got heavy and he wanted to finally put it down. He wanted to tell his parents that he was thinking about asking a boy to prom (“Who?” “Doesn’t matter now.”) and Yoongi knew that his parents were traditional and had heard them say scornful things about gay people in the past, but he thought, he hoped that they would be able to look past their prejudices because he was their son and they loved him.

But instead, his father had screamed and his mother had cried and his brother was away at medical school so there was no one to take his side when his father gave him five minutes to throw everything he could into a suitcase and get the hell out of his house for good.

(“Why didn’t you come to one of us, hyung?” “I was embarrassed. I was scared. I couldn’t handle it if you all hated me, too. I didn't know. I didn’t know we were the same.”)

And Yoongi had only been eighteen, barely had enough money in his pocket for a bus ticket that would get him a few hours away, far enough away.

Only eighteen when he decided to spend his last few dollars at the nearest bar, to get as drunk as he possibly could and try to waste away completely.

Eighteen, when a man at the bar approached him and offered to pay for a hotel room for an entire night if he could just have Yoongi for an hour.

Yoongi had been so tired, but the promise of a roof over his head was too good to pass up.

(“That was…” “My first time. Yeah.” “I’m sorry, Yoongi.” “I’m not. It’s how I survived.”)

And the next night, he got a new man to pay for his room. And the next night, a new one.

Before he knew it, he was blonde and he had regulars who called him ‘Sugar’, and he had actual money in his pocket day after day. He wasn’t thriving, but he wasn’t starving. He saved up so that he could have his own apartment, didn’t have to stay overnight in the hotel anymore. He met Hyuna and she worked like he did, but not as often, and just for extra cash. She had a boyfriend and she was well-adjusted and she said Yoongi reminded her of a feral cat that she couldn’t help but want to pet.

Yoongi’s brother tried to contact him a few times, somehow found him by chance, blonde and barely recognizable in the back of one of Hyuna’s Facebook photos. Tried to send him money and offered to let Yoongi stay with him in his apartment (“Why didn’t you?” “My parents would have found out, and then they’d stop paying for his school. I couldn’t do that to him.”). But other than those brief interactions with his brother and his odd couple friendship with Hyuna, Yoongi was alone.

Alone for two whole years.

Yoongi doesn’t look at Hoseok while he talks, but Hoseok doesn’t look away from Yoongi once.

As hard as it is to hear all of things he’s saying, Hoseok doesn’t look away. Because even though he knows the truth now, even though the world slowly starts spinning at its usual pace as Hoseok’s reality blends with Yoongi’s, Yoongi doesn’t change.

Yoongi looks exactly the same the entire time. His mouth purses and moves in the same way, he pauses and licks his lips thoughtfully in the same way, he nods to himself, blinks rapidly when he’s organizing his thoughts, the slope of his nose, the soft line of his jaw.

It’s all the same.

Hoseok knows the truth, and Yoongi is still Yoongi and Hoseok is so relieved he could kiss the blonde boy (but past experiences have taught him that maybe that isn’t such a good idea right now, so he just holds Yoongi’s hand instead).

“So, now you know everything,” Yoongi says when he’s run out of words.

“Now I know.”

“Do you hate me?”

“I don’t think I ever could.”

Yoongi finally turns to face him, and his eyes aren’t the same anymore, because there aren’t just thousands of galaxies now, Hoseok swears he can see millions of them.

Yoongi nods slowly, looking away from Hoseok and over towards the campsite where Namjoon and Jimin are quietly talking and sipping coffee while Jin and Jungkook play fight and Taehyung traces elaborate designs into the dirt with a twig. Reality just shifted completely on its axis, and none of them even noticed.

“I was scared,” Yoongi whispers, like he’s finally admitting a secret he’s had buried inside him all this time. Hoseok reaches out for Yoongi’s hand and finds it already reaching for his, meeting him halfway.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, hyung.”

A funny grin tugs at Yoongi’s lips.

“You’re the orange creamsicle.”

“What?”

“The mystery flavor. It was orange creamsicle, remember?”

“Um. Yes?”

Yoongi rubs his thumb in small circles around Hoseok’s pulse point. “It was worth the risk,” he says simply.

“You’re so weird, hyung.”

I love you.

Yoongi laughs and shakes his head at Hoseok like there’s a joke, an obvious joke that Hoseok is missing. His expression suddenly gets serious, lips pursing into a line.

“I have to tell them.”

Hoseok looks over at Seokjin stealing some of Namjoon’s coffee, grinning at each other, oblivious of what they don’t know.

“You don’t have to do anything. It’s your choice.”

“I - I want to tell them. I’m not scared anymore.”

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Namjoon spend the next few hours holed up in Seokjin and Namjoon’s tent. Hoseok sits on the ground next to Taehyung, leaning a head on his leg and watching him draw spirals, boxes, triangles over triangles over triangles.

He’s not sure when he dozes off, but when he opens his eyes again the sun is low in the sky and Taehyung has one hand on his shoulder, keeping him upright.

He sees Yoongi, Seokjin, and Namjoon all walk out of the tent, but only Seokjin and Namjoon come over. Yoongi heads for Seokjin’s car.

“Where’s he going?” Hoseok struggles to sit up, head still groggy with sleep.

“Said he needed to grab something from the store.” Seokjin sits across the fire from Hoseok, Namjoon at his side. They don’t say anything else, but Hoseok can see that both of them have eyes rimmed red from crying.

Hoseok has never seen Namjoon cry before. Not once in his entire life.

They still need time to process, and honestly Hoseok does, too. So they don’t talk about anything yet. He falls back asleep, lulled by the gentle scratching of Taehyung’s stick in the dirt and Namjoon and Seokjin’s low whispers to each other.

When Hoseok wakes up again, it’s almost dark and Taehyung, Seokjin, and Namjoon are all gone, only Jimin sitting across the flames from him. He’s humming lightly to himself, prodding at the fire with a metal poker.

“Where is everyone?”

Jimin looks up at the sound of Hoseok’s voice. “Good morning to you, too, hyung,” he teases. “Jin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Tae, and Kookie are playing flashlight tag in the woods. They were going to wake you up to ask if you wanted to play, but I figured you’d want your rest.”

There’s distant shrieks of laughter in the distant coming from the darkness and Hoseok spots a few stray beams of light. He smiles to himself.

“Why aren’t you playing?”

“Someone had to stay back and keep watch, make sure you don’t get eaten by a bear or something, hyung.”

Hoseok laughs and turns to see if he can spot the shadowy shapes of his friends playing in the distance, when he notices something else.

Seokjin’s car is back.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

Jimin bites his lip and glances somewhere over Hoseok’s shoulder.

“He just got back maybe ten minutes or so ago? He said he was going down to the water to watch the sunset, but he didn’t want any of us to come with him.”

“Oh,” Hoseok’s shoulders slump disappointedly.

“Hey, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“You should go down there.”

Hoseok blinks up at Jimin who is giving him a meaningful look.

“But you just said -“

“Hobi, really, just go. I have a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” Hoseok is already on his feet.

“Just a feeling that he needs you right now. He seemed…a little off when he got back from the store.”

Hoseok very nearly sprints down to the water’s edge.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but what he finds isn’t it.

As the last few rays of light slip out of the sky, Hoseok sees him. Yoongi is kneeling in the wet sand at the very edge of the water, clothes soaked through to the bone and small frame trembling in the cool evening air. He’s got the shower bucket, full to the brim with water, sitting next to him.

Watery black rivulets stream down the side of his face, his neck, his chest, bleeding into the neck of his white t-shirt.

Hoseok approaches slowly and he knows Yoongi hears him, but the older boy doesn’t look up from his dye-stained hands, creeping up his wrists like poisoned veins.

He picks up the box of hair dye from where it sits discarded next to Yoongi, wordlessly pulls on the gloves, and kneels down at Yoongi’s side.

The white sand below them is sprawling with tendrils of black.

“I don’t want to be him anymore,” Yoongi whispers.

Hoseok squeezes the remaining hair dye into his gloved hand and just nods in acknowledgement. He scoots closer to Yoongi and rises up on his knees so he can see his entire head, blotchy white and black hair plastered to his skull. He takes each strand of Yoongi’s hair into his hands, smooths over every inch with the hair dye to make sure the color is even. Carefully pushes Yoongi’s hair back from his face to stop the dye from streaming into his eyes.

The inky black lines that slice through Yoongi’s otherwise flawless pale skin are jarring, but don’t make him any less beautiful. They're just a reminder. Just a physical manifestation of the things Yoongi’s been through, the identity he gave up, lost, then fought to regain. The fact that he’s strong and he survived and he’s still here and Hoseok is so fucking grateful for it.

He can feel Yoongi looking up at him, but he focuses on his work, evenly covering the white blonde locks with midnight black.

When he’s finished applying the color, he strips off the gloves and tosses them to the side. He positions himself behind Yoongi, putting his legs on either side of him and letting him rest his damp forehead against Hoseok’s temple, quietly breathing together while they wait for the color to set.

Yoongi doesn’t cry like Hoseok thought he would. He just breathes.

“Tilt your head back, Yoongi. I’ll rinse it out for you.”

Hoseok pours the shower bucket out a little at a time over Yoongi’s head, massaging his fingers gently into his scalp as he does to make sure he gets all of the color out.

Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair when he’s done and gives it a shake, droplets of water flying off of him. It’s a little too long and Hoseok hadn’t noticed before, but now it hangs in wet strands in Yoongi’s eyes, frames his dark eyes with obsidian hair and Hoseok thought the blonde looked beautiful on Yoongi, but God he’s even more gorgeous like this.

Hoseok can’t help but prefer him this way. The way Hoseok remembers him.

But really, Yoongi could have lime green hair and Hoseok would still think he was the most ethereal person he’d ever seen.

“How does it look?” Yoongi tugs nervously on a strand of damp hair.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” Hoseok sighs with a faint smile. Hesitantly, Yoongi smiles back at him.

“We have to get you out of those clothes, hyung. You’re freezing.” Hoseok stands and brushes the sand off of his knees, tossing everything into the shower bucket and looks down at Yoongi expectantly, hand outstretched. “You coming?”

Yoongi reaches up to take his hand and pauses when their fingers interlock. Yoongi’s stained black, and Hoseok’s unblemished tan. He starts to pull away, but Hoseok just holds on tighter.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Yoongi lets Hoseok pull him to his feet and straight into his arms.

“You look really good, hyung, in case that much wasn’t clear. You looked good before, too, but you look even better as you.”

Hoseok has his lips pressed to Yoongi’s forehead, making sure that the older boy doesn’t just hear but can also feel the words as Hoseok says them. Doesn’t want Yoongi to miss a single one.

Yoongi shudders in his arms, Hoseok can feel it ripple through every vertebrae in his body.

“I’m cold, Seokie. Let’s go back together, okay?” Yoongi’s voice is small and a little hoarse, and Hoseok can’t help but wish Yoongi meant so much more by those words.

*

It’s still pretty early by the time Hoseok gets Yoongi back to their tent, but the formerly blonde-haired boy crawls into his sleeping bag and is out cold in barely twenty minutes.

The rest of the boys have come back from their game and are crowded around the fire, as they have been every night, with a spot left open for Hoseok (and one for Yoongi, too). Instead of taking his usual spot next to Jimin, he sits in the open space by Seokjin and Namjoon tonight.

They could all use each other right now.

Namjoon passes him a beer and Seokjin reaches over to pat his knee, all without looking away from the fire.

“I thought he was dead,” Namjoon says finally. The other five boys are silent. “I thought he was dead for the longest time and that I’d never see him again. I used to search his name online almost every day. I’d read the newspaper and watch every news channel and just wait for the announcement that he was found mangled, dead in a ditch somewhere. For the longest time, I didn’t understand the world at all. I kept thinking to myself, what kind of existence is this? That it would take someone like Yoongi away from us all? But eventually, I came to terms with it because I thought, at least he isn’t suffering, you know? But he was. He was suffering the whole time.”

Seokjin rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and takes his hand. Hoseok puts his hand on Namjoon’s other shoulder, wanting so badly to take some of his friend’s pain. To take all of his friends’ pain.

Namjoon wasn’t like the rest of them. He didn’t feel things like other people did, he felt the deeper, he felt them louder, he felt them every minute of every day as he tried to make sense of all the things he felt.

Hoseok can’t even imagine what the past two years - hell, the past twelve hours - have been like for him.

“There was nothing we could have done,” Seokjin says quietly.

“I don’t know how to just accept that.”

“You don’t have to,” Hoseok squeezes Namjoon’s shoulder. “You don’t have to process it and come to terms with it and make it make sense. You can just be sad about it, Joonie. You can just grieve all the time we lost with him and all the things that happened to him and not try to do anything about it now.”

“You can’t change the past, hyung,” Jungkook offers gently.

“I asked him -“ Namjoon breaks off, looking frustrated. “I asked him if he was going back, and he didn’t say no.”

“Hyung doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean,” Jimin murmurs. Hoseok glances over at him, surprised that Jimin still remembered what he told him a few nights ago.

Namjoon drops his head into his hands, and both Seokjin and Hoseok are quick to wrap their arms around either side of him.

“It’s okay, love,” Seokjin says, but he sounds close to breaking, himself. “We’ll - we’ll do something, I promise you. We won’t let him-“

“He’s a grown man, Jin-hyung,” Hoseok cuts in, miserable even as he says it. “We can’t make him do anything. It’s his decision and we just have to live with it.”

“I won’t,” Seokjin says stubbornly.

“Hoseok’s right,” Namjoon’s voice is muffled by his hands. “It’s Yoongi’s life and he has free will just like the rest of us. If this is - if it’s what he wants, there’s nothing we can do to stop him that won’t make him hate us forever.”

Taehyung drops his head onto Jimin’s shoulder and sighs.

“I don’t want hyung to leave, but I also don’t want him to stay against his will. I don’t think he gets to make a lot of his own decisions.”

“I’ll go with him, then,” Seokjin insists. Namjoon’s head pops up.

“What?”

“I -“ Seokjin’s face crumples. “Oh, fuck, no I won’t. I could never leave you, Joonie. Or even the rest of you brats. But it’s gonna be there, even worse than before, y’know? That dread every time I think about him, just hoping that he’s safe, that he’s warm, that he’s eaten enough that day because he never does and he’s so skinny now, and -“

“I know,” Namjoon commiserates.

Looking around at the miserable faces of his friends, Hoseok almost thinks that Yoongi is cruel. That to leave them all, again for some and for the first time for others, is cruel.

But he knows that the only person Yoongi is trying to be cruel to is himself.

“I can’t be best friends with a ghost anymore.” Seokjin sounds as tired as Hoseok feels.

“I barely just met him.” Jungkook scuffs his shoe in the dirt sullenly.

“I’m in love with him.”

A few mouths go slightly agape, but no one looks all that surprised at Hoseok’s confession. Instead, they all gather around him and wrap him in a group hug. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Jimin and Jungkook start wiping at his cheeks, telling him how much they love him, and telling him it’s okay to cry.

(Yoongi is so, so cruel. Hoseok loves him so, so much.)

*

There’s something about Yoongi with water.

Something terrifying and visceral and elemental that Hoseok doesn’t understand, but he knows that they belong together, and that they have the power to ruin each other.

What he does understand is that it’s the middle of the night and Yoongi’s sleep-warm fingers are poking and pulling at his shoulders, and in the minimal light that the moon provides Hoseok can see Yoongi’s dark eyes gleaming and rosy lips moving as he whispers Hoseok’s name over and over again.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok rubs at his eyes, trying to make sure he’s not imagining this. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

A soft smile spreads across Yoongi’s face. “I’m fine, Seok-ah.”

Hoseok scrambles to sit up and reaches for Yoongi anyways, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “Are you sure? You’re alright?”

Yoongi’s own hands come up to cover his.

“Yes, yes, stop panicking you dope, everything is fine. I just need your help with something.”

It’s the middle of the night and Hoseok is still half asleep and he can hear the wind howling outside and he’s so goddamn warm in his sleeping bag.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

Yoongi’s resulting grin is nearly blinding in the darkness.

Yoongi leads Hoseok down to the water by the hand, tip-toeing through the campsite to avoid waking the other boys. It’s a good thing Jimin decided to stay with Jungkook and Taehyung again tonight.

Yoongi turns back and flashes Hoseok a quick smile before breaking into a run. Hoseok follows and doesn’t know why they’re running because they don’t seem to be in a rush, but he thinks maybe Yoongi is just running because he can. Because he’s free to.

At the edge of the water, Yoongi looks at Hoseok thoughtfully, wind tousling his newly dyed hair and making it curl.

“I wish we had some frogs to catch.”

Yoongi’s gummy grin and messy black hair make Hoseok feel like they’re six years old again, just for a second. Like it’s his first day at a new school and there’s a pretty boy with cat eyes leading him down towards the pond and changing his whole life.

And then Yoongi grabs his shirt by the hem and pulls it over his head, and Hoseok is abruptly reminded that they are definitely not children anymore.

Because the bruise is there, slightly faded, but still visible in the moonlight. And every other line of Yoongi’s body is there. Visible in the moonlight.

Hoseok hadn’t paid much attention to Yoongi’s body before. The first time, he was too focused on the bruise and his bubbling anger to really pay it any attention, and the second time Yoongi was so drunk that Hoseok felt wrong looking at more than an inch at a time and only in the places he needed to.

Yoongi hasn’t told him what they’re doing here yet, but it doesn’t feel like the wrong time to look now. So he does.

It’s not hard to see how Yoongi can make a living off of his body. Not difficult at all to imagine dozens - hundreds? - of men being willing to pay money for just the chance to touch Yoongi’s body. Some of them willing to come back for it again and again like it’s a drug they can’t quit.

Hoseok can easily see how those men could become addicted to something like Yoongi’s body.

For how thin Yoongi is, Hoseok expects a lot more sharp angles and jagged edges, but the reality is there isn’t a straight line in sight. There’s a gentle slope to his collarbones, his shoulders wide but angled in to accentuate the narrowness of his waist. His hips aren’t as curved as Jimin’s or Namjoon’s, but it’s there - it’s subtle enough to draw your eye. His back tapers in at his lower back, making him appear languid and fluid even just standing there doing nothing.

Yoongi puts a hand on his hip and draws Hoseok’s attention back to his face, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You ready?”

Hoseok has no idea what they’re doing.

“Okay.”

The water is frigid and biting at the skin of his ankles and shins, has Hoseok almost turning back after only a few steps. But Yoongi just keeps plowing forward, and Hoseok can’t do anything but follow him deeper, deeper into the water until they’re in up to their waists.

“Hyung,” Hoseok ventures when Yoongi stops walking and doesn’t say anything, just lets his hands skim the water by his sides and tilts his face towards the starry sky. “What are we doing out here?”

The moonlight reflects pale and shimmering across Yoongi’s face. Like the surface of the water.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yoongi smiles and gestures widely with his arms. “It’s my baptism.”

Hoseok blanks, teeth chattering slightly as the cold water seems to sink into his bones.

“You’re not religious?”

Yoongi huffs and crosses his arms, lips already turning slightly purple.

“Well, yeah, it’s more of like, a symbolic thing.”

“Symbolic of what?”

“Cleansing and re-birth and all that.”

“Okay. Why?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, one hand coming to rest on his ribcage just over his bruise.

“I wanna be whole again.”

How can he argue with that?

Yoongi steps closer, winding his arms around Hoseok’s neck and instructing him where to place his arms to hold Yoongi afloat in the water. Hoseok hooks one arm under his knees and places a hand in the middle of his shoulder blades, barely doing any work to keep Yoongi hovering just on the surface of the water.

The light of the moon make the surface of the water appear white, shining and pure. It’s fitting, Hoseok thinks.

Yoongi doesn’t say much or ask Hoseok to do anything after that. He just lays floating in Hoseok’s arms, head tipped back towards the vast night sky, exposing the elegant line of his neck, black hair floating around his face like some kind of dark halo.

His lips move silently, like he’s talking to himself. Like he’s praying. Hoseok just lets himself watch.

“Say something, Seok-ah,” Yoongi murmurs, breaking the silence.

“Like, what? Amen?”

Yoongi’s lips curl into a small smirk.

“No, dummy. Like, something nice. About me.”

“Oh,” Hoseok nods even though Yoongi can’t see him. Clears his throat and feels like his voice rings too loudly in the night when he says, “Min Yoongi doesn’t need to be saved, but he deserves it more than anyone else.”

Yoongi blinks his eyes open slowly, saltwater clinging to his long lashes. He brings his arms around Hoseok’s neck again as he lowers himself out of his arms and back onto his feet.

“So?” He tilts his head to the side. “Do I look like a virgin again?”

A surprised laugh escapes Hoseok and he wants to make a joke, but the moonlight dancing around the edges of Yoongi’s hair distract him.

“I think I can see your halo.”

Yoongi smacks him lightly on the chest and pouts.

“Really though, do I look divine?”

Always.

“Really though, I can see your halo, hyung.” Hoseok lets his fingertips gently trace a line from Yoongi’s temples towards the back of his head. “It’s right here. I can really see it.”

Yoongi’s lips part on an exhale and he links his fingers together behind Hoseok’s neck.

“I have a halo?” He asks in a tiny voice. Hoseok nods his head in confirmation.

He’s suddenly tugged forward, pulled down, and there are cold lips pressed against his.

Given the situation, it takes him entirely too long to realize that it’s Yoongi. That Yoongi is kissing him.

Hoseok’s hands come up to rest in that perfect divot of Yoongi’s lower back and doesn’t pull, just holds him. Just lets Yoongi press frantic, messy kisses over and over again to his lips, to his neck, to every inch of his face.

“Why?” Yoongi breathes, pulling back with his hands on either side of Hoseok’s face. “Why are you so good to me, Seok? After I left you and never said a word, after everything I’ve done, after I - the other day when you kissed me and I - why?”

“Because you’re good, hyung. And you deserve good things.”

A broken whimper escapes Yoongi before he pulls Hoseok back in for a kiss, longer and deeper than the others, warming Hoseok down to his core.

Regardless of any flaws Yoongi sees in himself, Hoseok has always seen him as good. Has always loved him. He just wants to show him that.

“You’re cold,” Hoseok traces Yoongi’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I feel like you’re always cold.”

Yoongi shakes his head and purses his lips to press a kiss to Hoseok’s finger.

“Not with you. Don’t feel cold at all.”

As much as that makes Hoseok’s heart feel like it’s bursting at the seams and as much as he’d like to stay right here with Yoongi in his arms forever, Yoongi is starting to shiver and his lips are steadily getting more purple. Hoseok manages to pull their lips apart long enough to convince Yoongi to return to their tent with him.

Back in the tent, they strip off all of their soaking clothes and pat each other dry with towels. There’s still something lingering, something electric in the air that followed them back from the water. Something that has Yoongi’s hands lingering just a bit too long on the V of Hoseok’s hips, something that has Hoseok letting the towel slip gently across Yoongi’s chest just to see him react, to see how sensitive he is to the touch.

There’s no guarantee where Yoongi will be in a day, in five days, in a year. But right now, he’s here with Hoseok and Hoseok isn’t going to keep wasting a single moment with him.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok lets his fingertips trail across Yoongi’s collarbone. The smaller boy shivers and lists closer to him, just a breath away. “Do you want this? I mean do you want to, with me? Tell me the truth, please. We can do anything you want or nothing at all, just tell me what you want.”

Yoongi slides the back of his knuckles in a caress down the side of Hoseok’s face, down to the center of his sternum. He looks there, at Hoseok’s heart instead of his face when he answers.

“I want everything. I want it more than I’ve ever let myself want anything in my whole life.”

“Your whole life?”

Yoongi grins wryly and raps his knuckles gently on Hoseok’s chest, before finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

“You don’t think you were the only little gay boy with a crush on his best friend, did you?”

“You - what?”

“Why the hell do you think my dad hated you so much, hm?”

Hoseok doesn’t even have a moment to process this monumental bomb that Yoongi just dropped on him before Yoongi is reaching up on his tip toes and giving Hoseok a kiss so sweet it turns his entire brain to mush, so he can barely remember his own name, let alone Yoongi’s confession.

The older boy is still shivering slightly and the tent does little to protect them from the chill of the night, so Hoseok grabs one of his hoodies and tugs it over Yoongi’s head, ruffling his hair and earning him a confused pout. The hoodie is big on Hoseok and Yoongi’s a little smaller than him, so he’s practically swimming in the fabric.

“Dressing me seems…counterproductive?”

“You were still cold,” Hoseok shrugs. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Wants Yoongi to know that this isn’t all about his body. This is about him in every single way.

There’s a pause where Yoongi just blinks at Hoseok, like his mind can’t even comprehend what Hoseok is saying to him. Then, an angelic smile graces his lips and he holds Hoseok’s face in his sweater-covered hands and kisses him like it’ll save them both from drowning.

“What do you want?” Hoseok is embarrassingly breathless, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to be doing much better. “Anything you want, just name it.”

Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, suddenly looking unsure and anxious.

“Well, most of my clients like -“

“No, nope, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Hoseok presses a quick kiss to Yoongi’s bitten lip because he can now. “I don’t wanna know what they like. I wanna know what you like.”

“Can we -“ Yoongi tugs the sleeves of Hoseok’s sweatshirt shyly over his hands further. “I want you to fuck me,” Hoseok chokes a tiny bit, “but, can I be on top? No one ever… I don’t know, it’s some fragile masculinity thing or something I think because no one ever lets me be on top. I think they think it takes away some of their power over me or something. But, I wanna try. With you, Seok-ah. If you want to, that is?”

“Yeah, oh my fucking god yes, we can do that. One hundred percent. No problems on my end.”

Hoseok pulls Yoongi in for another kiss, holding him close as he lowers them to the ground and easily maneuvers them so that Hoseok is laying on his back and Yoongi is straddling his waist, lips still pressed together.

Yoongi sits back, licking his lips and reaching up a hand to tousle his hair and Hoseok takes a moment to just admire him. The way his lithe, pale thighs bracket Hoseok’s firm, tan ones, how his hoodie pools around Yoongi’s waist and slips haphazardly off one shoulder. The dark, suffocating need in his eyes.

When Yoongi rocks his hips suddenly, it drags the underside of his cock against the muscles of Hoseok’s lower abdomen and they both gasp on choked breaths. Hoseok’s hands come up to grab Yoongi’s thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and Yoongi rocks his hips again, lets out an impatient whine.

“Who do I have to fuck around here to get you to touch me, hm?”

Hoseok laughs and lets one of his hands slide up from Yoongi’s thigh and under the hem of his sweatshirt, wrapping around his hip and letting his thumb caress the skin there, close, but not quite touching Yoongi where he needs.

“We have to go slow, hyung. You’re a virgin again, remember?” Hoseok teases.

“Fuck that,” Yoongi huffs, leaning back so that his ass is right over Hoseok’s gradually hardening cock.

“Ah, shit,” is all Hoseok manages before Yoongi flashes him a self-satisfied smirk and lowers himself so that Hoseok’s cock is sliding right along his ass. Then he rolls his hips, forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, making Hoseok so hard so fast that it makes him dizzy, head falling back on his pillow with a loud, stuttered groan that doesn’t seem to end.

“You gonna fuck me now or should I get us off just like this? I’m honestly fine either way, but, fuck, I’ve dreamt about this, Seok. Don’t make me wait any longer, please.”

There’s something so uniquely and astonishingly Yoongi about the fact that he can be so snarky and composed, but also begging and needy all in the same breath. It makes Hoseok want to laugh, makes him want to wreck the older boy, makes him want to kiss him breathless just to make sure he’s real because there is no one else like Yoongi. No one.

He goes with option three, for now. Wrapping one hand around the back of Yoongi’s neck and dragging him down, rising up to meet his lips halfway. Yoongi licks greedily into his mouth, sighs happily against his lips.

“My favorite,” he murmurs, without pulling away. He rolls his body down again, slow and languid, and every centimeter of their bare skin that touches feels like it’s on fire. “Now, Seokie. Now, now, now.”

“Okay, okay shit, hold on,” Hoseok holds Yoongi firmly by the hips. That doesn’t stop the smaller boy from peppering hot, wet kisses down his neck and across his chest. It’s effectively very distracting. “We have to, have to slow down a little, yeah? You’re not even, you’re not - fuck, what’s the word?” Hoseok keeps trying to string words together, but when Yoongi starts sucking hard on a spot at the base of his neck, he’s lost to the headiness of having Yoongi’s lips on him again.

“‘m not what?” Yoongi prods, smug little grin pressed to Hoseok’s skin.

“You’re not - not -“ Hoseok’s hands, without any permission from his brain, slide down Yoongi’s sides to grab at his ass. Yoongi moans loudly, vibrations pulsing through Hoseok’s own body, and pushes back into his hands. He lets a single fingertip slip between Yoongi’s legs, feels the older boy tremble as he rubs the pad against his dry hole - “Prepared!” Hoseok yelps suddenly, startling Yoongi back.

“Huh?”

“You’re not prepared, so we can’t yet - I don’t want to hurt you, I just have to - fuck.”

Lube. He didn’t bring any lube, or condoms for that matter, because why the fuck would he bring lube on his bro-cation where he was supposed to be rooming with Jimin all week?

Hoseok stares up at the ceiling, miserably.

“I don’t have anything.”

“I do.”

“You - what?” Hoseok blinks back up at Yoongi in surprise. “You do?”

“Of course I do, what kind of whore do you take me for?” Yoongi scoffs. Hoseok frowns, lifting himself up on his elbows to watch Yoongi cross the room to rummage in his bag.

“I don’t take you for a whore at all.”

Yoongi’s back goes momentarily rigid.

“Okay.”

He climbs back over Hoseok, presses a small bottle of lube into one of his hands and drops the foil-wrapped condom next to them. He keeps his head ducked, doesn't meet Hoseok’s eyes.

“Yoongi? Can you look at me please?”

A small head shake.

“I’m not having sex with you if you won’t even look me in the eye.”

Slowly, he looks up.

“What?”

“Promise me something before we do this, okay?”

Yoongi raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Maybe. What is it?”

Gently, Hoseok takes one of Yoongi’s hands and places it over his heart.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that? Don’t even think about yourself, not when you’re with me. I want you to see yourself the way you are, right in here, when I look at you. Promise me?”

There’s a layer of moisture glistening in Yoongi’s eyes, and he blinks rapidly, lips slightly parted.

“I-“ he breaks off, teeth biting into his lower lip. Hoseok reaches up with gently pull his lip free with his thumb, smoothing over the bitten skin.

“Promise me?”

“I - I can try.”

That’s enough for Hoseok.

Despite how badly he wants to flip them over at a few points, how badly he wants to see Yoongi spread out and writhing beneath him, he lets Yoongi stay on top the entire time.

He lets Yoongi stay on top, body hovering a few inches over his, thighs shaking with the effort to hold himself up as Hoseok fingers him open. One finger at a time. Yoongi is loud and red-faced, squirming around on Hoseok’s long fingers with begs and moans spilling from his lips.

Most men probably don’t treat Yoongi like this. Don’t let him enjoy the foreplay and focus on making every act make Yoongi feel good, they probably just finger him open quick and careless, as simply a means to an end.

So Hoseok doesn’t do it like that. (Not that he would have anyways, because the sight of Yoongi falling apart above him from nothing more than a few fingers has Hoseok practically delirious with power and arousal.)

Hoseok does it like this is the last act he’ll ever do, like his entire life depends on making Yoongi feel as good as possible with just his fingers.

“I’m - oh my god, Seok!” Yoongi’s legs finally give out and he collapses onto Hoseok’s chest, face buried, gasping into his neck. Hoseok changes the angle of his fingers to account for Yoongi’s new position, and oh.

Oh they did something here.

Yoongi screams. Absolutely loses it, broken and raw, pressing his face further into the crook of Hoseok’s neck and grinding his hips back desperately.

“That’s - oh, that’s - ohhhh,” Yoongi moans, fingernails digging in where they’re grabbing at Hoseok’s bicep, but he doesn’t even register the pain, so focused on keeping the angle of his fingers just right to brush against Yoongi’s prostate again. Again. Again.

“I’m - I -“ Hoseok bends one of his legs so that with the next roll of his body, Yoongi’s hard cock rubs up against his thigh and Yoongi gasps harshly, hands scrabbling at Hoseok’s body for purchase in a way that will almost definitely leave him with marks tomorrow. “Stop!” Yoongi gasps suddenly.

Hoseok freezes instantly, pulling his fingers out of Yoongi’s body, earning a pathetic whine from the boy above him. Neither of them moves for a long minute, the sound of Yoongi’s harsh panting against Hoseok’s neck filling the tent.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok cards a hand through Yoongi’s hair carefully. “Did I hurt you?”

Yoongi laughs incredulously, almost hysterical and sits up, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his face.

“Hurt me? Are you kidding? That was - I mean that - what the hell was that?”

“I was, um, fingering you?”

“I’ve never had anyone -” Yoongi laughs again and shakes his head. “Not like that. I didn’t even know it could be like that.”

Stay with me and it’ll always be like that, forever, I promise.

“Guess I could teach you a few things, huh hyung?” Hoseok teases. Yoongi’s eyes go dark, tongue sliding across his lips.

“Maybe you could. But we haven’t even gotten to my favorite part yet, Seokie.”

Hoseok swallows hard.

“Which part?” He asks, even though he knows, because he wants to see Yoongi’s pretty mouth say it.

“The part where you finally put that gorgeous cock of yours into me and let me fuck myself on it ’til I cry.”

There’s a very vivid memory that’s been pressed into the back of Hoseok’s mind for longer than he knows. For some reason, he suddenly remembers it, somewhere in between Yoongi kissing him hard and giving his cock a few strokes, sliding on the condom, and the moment that every inch of him is fully engulfed in Yoongi’s heat.

They were eleven, and it was summertime and the four of them - him, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin - were sweaty and sticky, running around the local fair, riding the ferris wheel and shoving cotton candy into each other’s mouths. Yoongi’s hair was short and spiked up in the front and Hoseok had a black eye from getting hit with a pitch at his little league game the weekend before.

The fireworks show was going to start soon, but Seokjin insisted on getting one more funnel cake (his third) before it started, dragging Namjoon along with him because eleven year olds operate on the buddy system. Yoongi and Hoseok choose a soft grassy spot near the top of the hill and waited together.

Seokjin and Namjoon didn’t make it up to them in time for the show, so he and Yoongi threw their legs in a messy tangle together, arms around each other’s shoulders, and watched alone.

There was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that night, this swooping excitement like he just jumped out of a plane. With every explosion of colorful light, dotting the night sky, Hoseok found himself looking over at Yoongi. Watching the way the colors played across his face, the way his cheeks pulled up in a happy smile, the pink cotton candy stuck to the corner of his mouth from when Seokjin tried to shove way too much in his mouth at once.

And Hoseok didn’t know what it was he was feeling in that moment, but he remembered thinking ’perfect.’ Everything was perfect and the fireworks were beautiful and Yoongi was happy, by his side.

That same feeling is in his stomach right now, swooping and terrifying and exciting, as his fingers grab at the soft skin of Yoongi’s waist and sweat drips down Yoongi’s chest and his best friend is fucking himself onto his cock.

And when he closes his eyes and moans, he can see the fireworks, too.

“Thought you said - you haven’t done this before?” Hoseok gasps, toes curling when Yoongi fully seats himself and rotates his hips in a tiny circle.

“I haven’t,” Yoongi grins. “But I was prepared. Did my - ah! - my research.”

“Thank god for Google.” Hoseok steadies Yoongi by the hips, and on the boy’s next push down, Hoseok raises his hips to meet it, driving his cock even further into Yoongi’s wet heat.

Fireworks. So many fireworks Hoseok’s vision goes spotty, he can’t hear anything but explosions for a few seconds.

“Again,” he’s vaguely aware of Yoongi scratching at his chest, raking his nails down his sides, gasping and writhing. “Again, do that again.”

When his vision finally clears, and he can see the glazed over, fucked out but still needy and wanting look in Yoongi’s eyes, he plants his feet flat on the bed, holds Yoongi just hard enough that he won’t bruise, lifts the smaller boy up, and slams his cock up into him when he drops Yoongi down again.

The sound Yoongi makes when he throws his head back isn’t quite a howl, but it’s just as raw and broken.

His body bends forwards, hands planted on Hoseok’s chest and hoodie bunching up under his arms as they keep up a relentless, steady pace. The whole tent smells like sex, the air filled with the sounds of their panting and moaning, Hoseok’s curses and Yoongi’s whimpering.

They sound good enough to make it onto Yoongi’s next mixtape, in Hoseok’s opinion.

But there’s just one thing - Yoongi’s head hung so that all Hoseok can see is the top of his head, midnight strands blocking his face completely.

“Can you - can you look at me?”

Yoongi whines and shakes his head, dropping his chin to his chest, every muscle in his body trembling.

“You can, come on I - come on, baby, please?”

That gets Yoongi looking at him real fast.

His lips are twisted, eyebrows furrowed, as he requests, “They all call me that, call me ‘b-baby’. I want you to call me by my - my real name.”

Hoseok slides one hand around the back of Yoongi’s neck, fingers carding through the sweaty hair at the base, thumb caressing the corner of his mouth.

“Okay. Okay, Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi.”

They don’t look away from each other’s eyes this time. Hoseok can feel his toes curling, a heat spreading dangerously through his groin, and he’s close. He thrusts up into Yoongi even harder, sharper. Feels the smaller boy clench tightly around him.

Hoseok shakes his head and slows his pace.

“Don’t - you first.”

Yoongi blinks down at him quizzically.

“Me…first?”

“You come first, Yoongi. I want you to. Wanna see you. See how good you feel.”

Yoongi still looks a little uncertain, like he’s treading unfamiliar waters. That is, until Hoseok trails a hand up the back of one of Yoongi’s thighs and wraps his hand around the older boy’s leaking hard on.

His hips jerk forward, sliding his cock further into the circle of Hoseok’s fingers and he groans, entire body shuddering with it. There’s enough precome dribbling out of the tip that he doesn’t need to grab the lube, just uses his fingers to spread it all the way down Yoongi’s length, making the slide just smooth enough with the perfect amount of friction.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes tightly shut, breathing in deep and ragged, and when he opens them again, there are tears clinging to his lashes.

“It’s okay, Yoongi,” Hoseok murmurs, stroking faster and lifting himself up so he can pull their foreheads together. Yoongi lets out a choked off cry, hands clutching at Hoseok’s hair.

He smells like sweat and oranges.

“Don’t cry, hyung,” Hoseok whispers, brushing their noses together.

“I - I didn’t know,” Yoongi gasps, his salty tears dripping from his face onto Hoseok’s cheeks. “D-didn’t know I could feel this - this good. Oh, Seok, keep going, like that, ‘m so close!”

Through the heartache and the anger, Hoseok keeps going, tightens his fingers, rubs at the sensitive spot just behind the head of Yoongi’s cock, and rolls his hips up into Yoongi’s heat.

Two years. Two years Yoongi’s been having sex with strangers, with men, who never even let him see how good his body could make him feel. Just used him to make themselves feel good.

Hoseok could probably kill them, any one of them, if given the chance. But instead what he has is Yoongi, shaking above him, panting into his mouth, begging him to finish it.

And that’s a whole lot better.

Yoongi draws in a sharp gasp, right against the shell of his ear, before exhaling long and raspy and spilling into Hoseok’s hand.

After the aftershocks of his orgasm have passed, Yoongi pulls Hoseok’s hand, covered in his come, to his lips and begins to methodically lick it clean. That image, combined with Yoongi swiveling his hips in little figure eights, over and over again, clenching around Hoseok’s cock that’s harder than it’s ever been in his life, has him following the older boy quickly over the edge.

There’s no way to really clean up without having to leave the comfort of their tent, so they crawl sticky and sweaty into Hoseok’s sleeping bag. Yoongi turns on one side, leaving Hoseok to press up against his back, arm slung over his waist and nose buried in the back of his neck.

Yoongi intertwines his fingers with Hoseok’s where they rest idly on his belly, and it makes Hoseok brave.

“I don’t have a roommate.”

Yoongi stills.

“What?”

“I had a roommate, Jackson, but he graduated early so he’s been gone for a few months now, which means I have an extra room.”

Hoseok holds his breath, but Yoongi doesn’t give any indication that he’s going to respond.

It’s now or never.

“You could,” Hoseok draws in a deep breath, “move in with me? That way you wouldn’t have to sleep on your friends couch anymore or have to worry about meth labs exploding and killing you in your sleep! We could be roommates, like we always talked about, remember? My parents are helping me out with his half of the rent right now, and I’m sure if we just explained the situation to them, they’d totally agree to help out. I just, I’m not sure how to say goodbye to you, Yoongi,” Hoseok finishes in a whisper, pressing his nose closer to the short hairs at the base of Yoongi’s neck and breathing him in.

“I can’t.”

“But why not?”

“I won’t be your charity case, Hoseok. I won’t.”

“You won’t be! You’re just my friend and I wan’t to help you out-“

“That’s exactly what I’d be! I wouldn’t have any money or job or, or even an education! I’d just be this burden that you’d feel responsible for, and eventually you’d get annoyed with me, but you’d be too nice to force me out onto the streets, so you’d just grow to resent me and I - I can’t take that.”

“You could never be a burden to me, hyung,” Hoseok says quietly.

“You don’t know that! Don’t you want our last memories together to be good?”

There’s a deafening, sickening silence where Hoseok feels like his heart has just been forcibly removed from his chest.

“Our last memories,” he repeats, but it doesn’t sound like his voice. It sounds distant, robotic.

“Oh,” Yoongi breathes. “Oh, Seok-ah, I’m so sorry, I - This is how it always had to end, don’t you see?”

“No.” Hoseok’s voice catches on the word. He thinks there might be tears streaming down his cheeks, but he doesn’t know because he can’t feel. He can’t feel anything. “Please, please stay with me hyung.”

“I’m doing this for you, okay? You have a good life, and you have such great friends, and I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy, Yoongi. Please don’t do this.” And then, in maybe not the smartest moment of his life, he says, “I’m in love with you.”

Yoongi’s hand slips out of his, leaving his fingers cold.

There’s no sound from Yoongi, no movement or indication that he’s even heard Hoseok except for the slight tremble to his rigid frame.

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Yoongi’s voice is torn, raw like his throat has been rubbed down with sandpaper.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I-“

“I want you to take me back. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”

Hoseok thinks he might be sick.

“You don’t have to do that, please, we can just forget that I said anything.”

“You promised. Hoseok, you promised me.”

It feels like there’s an empty cavity in Hoseok’s chest where his heart used to be, just moments ago beating so loudly, beating Yoongi’s name.

But he promised.

Wasn’t he the one who just told Seokjin that they had to respect his choice either way? It feels like that was a million years ago, now.

“Okay,” Hoseok whispers, settling back down with his body still wrapped around Yoongi’s. “Okay, hyung. In the morning.”

Hoseok doesn’t sleep. Not for a single second.

*

No one else is awake when Hoseok finally untangles himself from Yoongi and crawls out of their tent. He takes a moment, just a single, selfish moment to watch Yoongi as he sleeps. To trace the cupid’s bow of his lips and the place where his long eyelashes splay delicately across his cheekbone, to run fingers through his soft, sleep-mussed hair and breathe with him in tandem for just another second.

It’s so early, the birds aren’t even awake yet, but Hoseok has been torturing himself for hours too long already, awake all night breathing in the smell of Yoongi’s hair and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept soundly beside him.

As if the entire world wasn’t crumbling around them.

He tries not to think about the fact that that was the last night he’ll spend holding Yoongi. The last time he’ll have Yoongi in his arms before before they’re hugging goodbye.

Goodbye.

Hoseok laid awake for hours trying to figure out how to do it. How to say goodbye to Yoongi.

At least he didn’t have to worry about this the first time Yoongi left. There was no time for goodbye. Maybe it was better that way.

He scratches lightly at the front of Namjoon and Seokjin’s tent, waiting patiently for a response. It’s an ungodly hour, but Namjoon is a light sleeper.

“Who’s’it?” The mumbled reply finally comes from inside.

“It’s me.”

He waits a beat to see if they’re going to tell him to leave before unzipping the flap and slipping inside. Namjoon blinks blearily up at him, Seokjin not even pulling his face away from where it’s buried in the younger boy’s neck.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

And they don’t know. God, they don’t know.

“Why’re you up so early?” Seokjin asks, words muffled into Namjoon’s skin. “Thought you and Yoongi would sleep all day after what we heard last night.” He chuckles sleepily and Hoseok feels sick to his stomach, eyes stinging.

Namjoon sits up suddenly, pulling a complaining Seokjin along with him.

“Hoseok, what is it?”

The words are there, sitting stuck at the back of his throat, burning and choking him. If he says it, it’s real.

If he says it, it’s real.

“He’s leaving.”

Namjoon’s entire face falls, expression dropping like there’s a hundred pound weight pulling it down. Slowly, Seokjin pulls his face from Namjoon’s neck and turns. He looks so young, so young and afraid like he did when they first lost Yoongi.

“When?” Seokjin whispers, voice cracking.

“First thing tomorrow morning.”

And it’s real when Seokjin begins to cry and it’s real when Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut tight and doesn’t move and it’s real when Hoseok’s own tears finally start to fall and his knees hit the ground and the three of them are nothing but a tangle of grief and salty tears.

“I-I’m sorry, hyung.” Hoseok grips Seokjin’s bony fingers tight in his own delicate hand.

“Why are you sorry?” Seokjin begins to wipe Hoseok’s tears away, his instinct to care for all of them momentarily overriding his sadness.

“I wasn’t enough. I c-couldn’t make him stay.”

Seokjin shushes him and wraps his arms around him as Hoseok begins to cry harder, the crushing truth of his words breaking him down completely. Namjoon puts his arms around both of them, and normally cuddling with the two of them is enough to make him feel better no matter what, but there’s a cold empty spot where Yoongi should be and it’s making him freeze.

“It’s not your fault, Seok-ah. You’ve made him happier than he’s been in a long time this week, I think.”

“I sh-shouldn’t have told him,” Hoseok says miserably.

There’s a brief, silent pause.

“You told him?” Namjoon’s voice is quiet. Hoseok nods, knows that Namjoon can feel it from where his chin rests on top of his head. Seokjin grips his hand tighter, and neither of them says anything. Hoseok thinks they’re looking at each other over his head, but he doesn’t care enough to find out, just keeps his head on Namjoon’s chest and drowns in his sadness.

It’s his fault. He knows it’s his fault. Everything was fine - better than fine - until he had to go and open his big stupid mouth.

And now Yoongi’s leaving. And he’s not the only one who has to prepare his goodbye. He’s the reason Yoongi’s leaving them all.

“We’ll come with you tomorrow,” Namjoon says.

“Don’t you wanna finish your trip?”

“It’s our trip,” Seokjin corrects. “And there is no trip without you, Hobi. Besides, you don’t really think we’d make you do this alone do you? The kids can finish up without us if they want to, but we’re going to be with you. No matter what happens. Okay?”

Hoseok feels a fresh batch of tears threaten to spill, an immense affection and appreciation for his best friends ballooning in his chest, threatening to burst, wet and sappy all over them.

“Okay,” he agrees, letting himself sink into the warmth and comfort of his friend’s arms for a moment longer. Then, with a heavy sigh, he untangles himself and stands. “I should tell them, then. The kids.”

It’s still early enough that the sun has barely risen over the horizon, so when Hoseok crawls out of the tent he’s surprised to see Jimin sitting just a few feet away in a chair at the fire pit, poking despondently at a tiny wisp of a flame. Hoseok walks over and sits beside him.

“You’re up early. Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.” Jimin shakes his head. “I just - something felt wrong.”

“Oh.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, arms curled around himself in his oversized sweatshirt. He doesn’t have to say anything. There’s a sorrowful, knowing look in his large, expressive eyes and Hoseok knows that he knows.

Just as the tiny flame is about to spark into something larger, Jimin stands and stomps it out.

“I’ll tell them,” he says quietly.

“Thanks,” Hoseok’s voice sticks thick in his throat. Jimin nods once, giving Hoseok’s shoulder a squeeze as he walks past.

It’s the worst day of Hoseok’s life and the sun hasn’t even risen yet.

*

The cars are already packed when Yoongi finally wakes up and crawls out of his tent, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stop suddenly, fist still pressed into his right eye when he looks up and sees them all standing there, waiting for him.

“What-“ He looks back and forth between them all, lips pursed in confusion.

It’s understandable that he’s so confused. Every morning so far, they’ve all stumbled out of bed at various hours, still dressed in their pajamas, and crowded around the fire drinking instant coffee and watching Seokjin make breakfast. Today, they’re all wide awake, dressed, with the fire pit dismantled and no tent besides the one Yoongi just crawled out of in sight.

When Jimin woke Jungkook and Taehyung to break the news to them, the younger boys were up in an instant. Like Seokjin and Namjoon, they also insisted on coming with Hoseok to take Yoongi back, didn’t even care about cutting their road trip a few days short. They worked quietly while Yoongi slept, packing everything but the tent he was sleeping in.

They knew Yoongi would argue about them wanting to come along, so they made sure not to let him know what they were planning until the cars were already packed and ready to go, too late for him to change their minds (not that they would).

He still argues, because he’s Yoongi.

“Just say goodbye to me here, what difference does it make? Please, don’t let me ruin this trip for you all.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, hyung. You made this trip really awesome, and now we just want to come with Hobi-hyung to take you, uh, home.”

“Jungkookie is right,” Jimin reaches out to grab Yoongi’s hand, smile only slightly wobbly. “What’s a day or two in the grand scheme of things compared to,” he falters. Bites his lip and looks down. “Compared to getting to end our trip all together?”

Yoongi continues to argue weakly, but even as he does, Namjoon and Taehyung are packing up the last of the tents and supplies, so Yoongi really doesn’t have much of a leg to stand on anymore.

It’s not explicitly stated that Jungkook is going to ride back with Namjoon and Seokjin so that Hoseok and Yoongi can have the backseat to themselves, but that’s how it works itself out either way. The drive back isn’t as long because over the past few days they’ve been circling their way back around, so Jimin takes the wheel and offers to drive the entire way back, with Taehyung sitting passenger seat. He plugs Jimin’s phone into the aux, while Yoongi hesitantly slides his way across the middle seat so that he’s pressed right against Hoseok’s side, and this time, Jimin’s ‘emo’ music feels perfectly fitting for the scene.

Like a funeral.

Yoongi doesn’t say much - doesn’t really say anything at all. Just scoots closer until he and Hoseok are practically in each other’s laps, and when Jimin hits a pothole Hoseok puts his arms around Yoongi and doesn’t let go again, and Yoongi still says nothing.

There’s gorgeous scenery flying past out the window in streaks and flashes of green pastures and silvery grey cliffs and cerulean blue waters, but Hoseok spends hours just staring down at the bitten cuticles of Yoongi’s fingers, feeling his steady breathing, inhaling the faint scent of oranges that make his eyes sting, not because of the smell, but because of everything that comes with it.

An entire childhood, the pain of years of loss, the exhilaration of finding what he’d lost once again, and then losing it - once again.

He wouldn’t necessarily says that he’s come to terms yet with the fact that Yoongi is leaving him again, but he’s reached a sort of bitter resignation to the fact. If this is what Yoongi wants, if this is what will make Yoongi happy, Hoseok will never be the person to take that away from him.

If Yoongi really doesn’t want him, Hoseok won’t force him to stay.

The GPS says that they’re about an hour and a half into the drive when Jimin starts to cry.

Nothing loud or tearful, just quiet sniffles that can only be heard in the quiet space between songs, red-rimmed eyes that Hoseok catches when the younger boy checks the mirror for cars behind him. Taehyung looks over at him, then quickly into the backseat, as lost and torn as the rest of them.

Yoongi pulls his hood up over his head, sticks the skin of his thumb in between his teeth, and turns to look out the window.

Jimin stops crying eventually, all on his own.

Bitter resignation, Hoseok thinks.

Yoongi used to play the piano.

Hoseok had almost forgotten, what with Yoongi’s rapping and soundboard skills usually the most prominent thing in his mind when he thought about Yoongi and his music. But after staring at the older boy’s hands for hours on end, memories start pressing forward without his permission, pushing and tugging at his consciousness, demanding to be seen.

His fingers were always so confident, so purposeful and graceful when they flew across the keys of his family’s grand piano, creating the most beautiful melodies Hoseok had ever heard.

Yoongi was a prodigy, that’s what his piano instructor used to say. Yoongi’s piano instructor was a woman older than his mother, with her hair always pulled back into a topknot with grey hair at the temples, but eyes that matched Yoongi’s in passion and vigor when they played. She used to come twice a week after school, before dinnertime. Sometimes, instead of going home, Hoseok would sit in on Yoongi’s piano lessons and lay across the floor with his eyes closed and just listen. It was the most still Yoongi’s mom said she ever saw him.

“Do you ever wish -“ Yoongi looks up at him, and Hoseok has to take a deep breath to get the rest of the words out. “Do you ever wish we could go back to the day we first met?”

Yoongi’s expression softens, reaching over to push Hoseok’s hair back from his face, tucking the longer strands behind his ear, making it tickle the skin of his neck.

“More than you could even imagine.”

“You’ll come visit us, right hyung?”

Taehyung’s nervous words are met with a heavy silence, thick with anticipation as Yoongi slowly blinks his cat eyes over towards Taehyung who is turned around in his seat to face the older boy head-on.

He’s brave. Braver than Hoseok in this moment, who’s barely glanced away from the bitten skin around Yoongi’s fingernails.

Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a delicate, half-hearted shrug.

“Sure,” he says, and it’s so obviously a lie.

Taehyung smiles, a weak little thing and nods to himself, reaches into his backpack and holds out a handful of lollipops to Yoongi. The older boy scans the selection for a moment before hesitantly reaching out and taking another mystery flavored one. Hoseok chooses green apple.

He watches as Yoongi carefully peels away the wrapped before sticking the candy in his mouth. After a few seconds, his face screws up in displeasure, eyes filling with dread. He pulls it from his mouth with a pop.

“It’s root beer flavored,” he says sullenly.

“You don’t like it?”

Yoongi looks up at Hoseok, and he suddenly looks scared. Impossibly scared of a lollipop.

“I hate root beer.”

And it feels like there’s something more he’s saying, but before Hoseok can process, Yoongi is re-wrapping the lollipop and taking a new one from Taehyung’s hand. Clearly labeled strawberry this time. A safe choice. No surprises.

He doesn’t appear much happier with this flavor, but he leaves the stick in his mouth and presses his thumb into the pulse point in Hoseok’s wrist and doesn’t say anything again for a long time.

They’re only two hours away from the hotel where they first came across Yoongi nearly a week ago when Taehyung gets a call from Namjoon telling them to pull over at the next rest stop to stay together because Jungkook has to pee so bad “he feels like his eyeballs are going to float out of his head.”

There’s already a familiar shiny white sports car in the parking lot and Jimin pulls in next to it, Namjoon and Seokjin visible in the front seats with Jungkook missing, probably already having run in to the bathroom. Yoongi climbs out of the car and stretches, Hoseok immediately missing his warmth, his presence beside him already.

How the fuck is he going to do this for real?

Namjoon and Seokjin startle when Yoongi taps the glass and waves in at them as he passes on his way to the restroom, the two of them having clearly been in some kind of deep conversation. Seokjin rolls down the window when Hoseok gets out of the car.

“How are things going in there?”

“Fine. Quiet. He seems okay, just upset that he’s making us all sad. How about you guys?”

“Jungkook has cried approximately nine different times, considered asking Yoongi to hire him as his body guard so he can stay by his side and protect him from ‘all the bad men’, and called and hung up on the police so many times I think they’ve blocked his number.”

“What the hell was he calling the police for? He knows he could get Yoongi in a lot of trouble, right?”

“Yes, I think that’s why he kept hanging up.”

Jungkook returns from the bathroom first, and he looks so dejected that Hoseok can’t help but wrap him in a tight hug when he reaches the cars.

“I’ll stay with him if you want me to, hyung. I’ll keep him safe,” Jungkook sniffles, and Hoseok thinks he can feel the collar of his shirt start to get damp. That’s ten times, now.

“You’re a good kid, Kookie.” Hoseok buries his nose in Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair, soft and smelling like vanilla. Wrong smell, but comforting in its own way. “I know hyung would appreciate the offer, but - he’d want you to stay with us. To stay in school and do well. You know that, right?”

Jungkook laughs, wet and surprised.

“That’s exactly what he said when I asked him just now.”

Yoongi ambles back from the bathroom a few minutes later, hands tucked into the pockets of his tight ripped jeans. His head is tipped slightly back towards the sky, face clear of any worry or fear that had been there the entire morning.

He’s come to terms with it, Hoseok realizes. Yoongi has made peace with his decision, and the rest of them have to do the same because that’s all they can do.

The last two hours are spent similarly to the first hours of the drive, Yoongi tucked under Hoseok’s arms, thighs pressed flush against each other, too warm in the Spring weather, but unable to part even a centimeter from each other. But this time, Yoongi’s breathing is deeper, slower, easier. Doesn’t rattle in his bones and push through his teeth. It just settles, just flows through him easy as water in a clear, narrow stream.

For all of Hoseok’s inner, philosophical rantings over the past twelve or so hours, despite all of the ‘coming to terms’ he’s tried to do with Yoongi’s decision, all the preparation and acceptance, there’s still a heavy wave of panic that washes over him when he starts to recognize the road signs as they get close - so fucking close - to the hotel where it all began. Well, where it all began again.

Where he and Yoongi were given a second chance by the fates and the gods and whatever cosmic powers are out there, and Hoseok had screwed it all up.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Hoseok doesn’t mean to speak aloud to himself in his attempts to quell the rising panic in his chest. He says it low, quiet enough the Jimin and Taehyung can’t hear him. But Yoongi does.

“Yes. It is.”

Yoongi squeezes his hand tight and stares out the window, something like a smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, fading in and out of focus like a phantom.

Hoseok doesn’t know how Yoongi can find even a sliver of happiness in a moment like this, but it brings him peace to see it. To know that Yoongi will be okay, will be able to move on with his life and smile again, even if Hoseok won’t.

The blinking, half burned-out sign announcing the hotel’s appearance comes all too soon. Something heavy like a stone drops into the put of Hoseok’s stomach.

Jimin pulls the car into the parking lot slowly, Seokjin’s car following closely behind him. Yoongi points of Hyuna’s car, a dented green thing that’s definitely seen better days, and both cars crawl to a stop a few feet away from it.

“Yoongi, I-“

“Shhh.” Yoongi puts a finger to Hoseok’s lips, putting a halt to whatever was about to come pouring out. Probably for the best. Hoseok had no idea what he was going to say anyways, it was anyone’s guess as to what he was about to word-vomit. “Hold that thought. Just wait here a second, okay?”

Hoseok can do nothing but watch curiously, along with all of the rest of the boys, as Yoongi approaches the unfamiliar green car, and an unfamiliar woman with striking ginger hair steps out to greet him. Hyuna is tall, even taller with the stiletto heels she wears, making her tower over Yoongi, pressing his face right into her chest when she pulls him into a tight hug. Her nails are long and sharp and red as they thread into Yoongi’s hair, red to match the shade of her lips. Low-cut white shirt, high-cut denim shorts.

But her face is soft, her smile fond and eyes squeezed shut with emotion as she rests her cheek on top of his head and holds him. An inexplicable jealousy overtakes Hoseok, because even though he knows (now) that Yoongi’s gay and Hyuna is just a friend, she gets to keep him. And Hoseok doesn’t. And that just doesn’t seem fair.

“She’s pretty,” Jimin offers weakly.

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees.

He wants to hate her, this Hyuna who stole his best friend, but when she pulls back and takes Yoongi by the cheeks, looking him over as if to asses to any damage, Hoseok can’t help but like her.

And Yoongi’s going to be okay. He has to believe that Yoongi is going to be okay, that he can take care of himself and Hyuna will look after him and Hoseok will - Hoseok will manage.

Yoongi and Hyuna exchange a few more words, before Hyuna is striding over to the backseat of her car, pulling the door open and ducking in. Hoseok looks over at Jimin who just shrugs his shoulders and they both keep watching as Hyuna produces a large suitcase from the backseat of her car.

“What’s that for? Whose is that?” Taehyung asks, voicing all of their thoughts. No one responds.

With a final kiss on the cheek and ruffle of Yoongi’s hair, Hyuna climbs back into her car and drives away.

Without the suitcase.

Without Yoongi.

“What’s happening right now? Hyung, what is going on?” Taehyung continues his litany of questions, voice growing higher and more excited with each passing one.

Hoseok doesn’t answer still, can hardly find his breath as his mind scrambles and his heart pounds in his throat. He’s climbing out of the car before he can think about it, Taehyung and Jimin scrambling after him. The sound of car doors slamming open and shut behind him make it clear that the three occupants of the other car have followed, and he’s vaguely aware of all of his friends crowding around him now but he barely even notices them.

All he can see is Yoongi, dragging the suitcase behind him as he approaches, eyes crinkling at the corners and phantom smile solidifying itself on his face.

And he's so beautiful, he’s so perfect and he looks like he’s coming home and never in the past two years has Hoseok ever been able to conjure up a more fantastic imagine in his mind.

“Okay, I’m ready to go now,” Yoongi says with a grin.

“You - you asked me to take you back?” Hoseok hates how dumbfounded he sounds, but really he can’t be blamed for the way his brain is taking an extra minute or two to get on board here.

“I did. And I’m ready now. So let’s go back?”

“You -“ Hoseok flounders for words. “You jerk!” He smacks Yoongi on the chest, not hard enough to really hurt. “You let me believe this whole time that you were leaving for good!”

“Ow!” Yoongi rubs at his chest, pouting. “I really was at first! I didn’t decide until a few hours ago that I wanted to stay with you. I texted Hyuna at the last rest stop and asked her to pack all my things for me when she met us here.”

“What changed your mind?”

Yoongi smiles and cups Hoseok’s cheek with one hand, tilting his head to the side and looking at Hoseok so adoringly he thinks he might combust.

“You, of course. And the root beer lollipop.”

Hoseok pauses, eyebrows drawing together.

“The root beer lollipop?”

Yoongi grins sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, you remember on the way here? When I chose the mystery lollipop even though it was a risk and it ended up being orange creamsicle and I loved it? The mystery lollipop was like, this trip, y’know? Taking the risk even though I didn’t know if I’d like it or not. And then, on the way here, I was taking the risk leaving you, going back to the life that I hated because I didn’t want to risk ruining the life that you had built for yourself now without me. But it was root beer. And I hated it. And I just knew I was making the wrong choice.”

“Do you - Do you make all of your major life choices based on lollipop flavors?” Namjoon asks, sounding genuinely distressed.

Yoongi laughs and shakes his head, and when he looks at Hoseok again there are stars and galaxies, planets and milky ways in his eyes.

“Well, that did play a part. But it was mostly Hoseok.”

“What did I do?”

“Everything. Nothing. It’s hard to explain. I was so sure when I told you I wanted to leave that you would try to change my mind, but you didn’t. You kept your promise and you respected my choice and you stood by me even though I know you hated it. Part of the reason that I was afraid to come back with you was because I didn’t want you to try and fix me. To feel like you had to take care of me and try to change me, or whatever. But you won’t, will you? Because in your eyes, I didn’t need to be fixed. I never changed at all. When you look at me, I’m not broken, and I used to think that was wrong but - but it’s actually exactly what I need. You’re what I need.” Yoongi emphasizes, stepping closer, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s neck. “You’re everything I need. Everything else is just details, as long as I have you.”

There are so many emotions coursing through Hoseok right now, so many alarms going off in his brain trying to protect him, trying to shut down and stop him from feeling anything. Warning him that he’s going to wake up any second now and it’s going to hurt - fuck, it’s going to hurt all over again.

But Yoongi just smiles at him, a bit hesitantly now, and strokes the back of Hoseok’s neck. And Yoongi’s fingers feel real. The way they smooth across his skin feels real. The gravel under his shoes and the faint smell of smoke coming from a man leaning against the side of the building a few hundred feet away - it all seems real.

There’s a faint sniffling from somewhere behind them, and Hoseok would bet money that Jimin and Seokjin are crying now, but he can’t look away from Yoongi.

“You want to stay with me?”

“With us,” Jungkook corrects cheekily, making Yoongi laugh, raspy and amused, doing dangerous things to Hoseok’s insides.

“I want to stay with all of you.” He leans in close and lowers his voice. “With you most of all, Seok-ah.”

“Yoongi, I -“ Hoseok cuts himself off quickly before he says the words, before he scares Yoongi away again. The older boy looks up at him expectantly, wide eyes. “I - I’m sorry for what I said before. If you want, we can be friends. Just friends. I know you don’t feel the same way I do, and I’m sorry that I put you in this position, but I can - I can get past it, somehow. Or, I can pretend really well. I promise, nothing will be weird at all and we can just -“

“Woah, wait a second.” Yoongi raises his hands in the air to stop Hoseok in his tracks. “Who said I didn’t feel the same way?”

“You - Wait, do you?”

Hoseok barely dares to breathe.

“Duh. I even confessed first, if you recall.”

“I definitely do not recall that?”

Yoongi huffs, exasperated with a smile tugging at his lips.

“The orange creamsicle! I told you that you were the orange creamsicle!”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok screeches, loud enough that Namjoon flinches back. ”That was you confessing to me?”

“Yup.” Yoongi replies, as if it should have been obvious and Hoseok is the ridiculous one right now.

“You’re kidding. You’re - you’re not kidding? Oh my god, I’m in love with an idiot.”

Yoongi laughs, leans his head forwards so that their foreheads press together, so that Hoseok can’t help but bring his arms up around Yoongi, holding him close by the waist.

He smells like oranges - no - he smells like home.

It doesn’t matter that all of their closest friends are standing around them watching, as Hoseok dips his head and Yoongi tilts his slightly to the side and then they’re kissing. Perfectly softly, achingly sweet.

Cheers and catcalls erupt from their friends around them, growing louder and more ridiculous by the second until their kiss is nothing more but the two of them laughing into each other’s mouths.

“I love you too, dope,” Yoongi giggles, their noses brushing.

It’s pretty spectacular, as far as kisses go.

“Are you going to come to school?” Jungkook asks, when Yoongi and Hoseok have finally pulled apart, Hoseok and Namjoon going around the back of the car to add Yoongi’s suitcase to the pile in the trunk. The youngest boy is bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly, hands clasped together. “We’ll be in the same year if you do!”

“I think I’m a little late to start next semester, but… Maybe next year?” Yoongi answers hesitantly. “I haven’t really worked everything out - haven’t worked anything out yet, really, but. Yeah. I’d like to save up some money and go back to school.”

“If you start next year, you’ll be in the year behind me,” Jungkook giggles delighted. Yoongi sighs and reaches out to smack the back of his head, but Jungkook ducks out of the way too fast, leaving Yoongi pouting with his arms crossed.

“I’ll still be your hyung, brat!”

“You may henceforth refer to me as ‘senpai’.”

“You’re such a weeb, holy fuck.” Yoongi shakes his head with a fond grin, before turning to Seokjin. “I figured maybe you could help me get started out with a serving job at your old restaurant maybe? Just something to help me get back on my feet and pay my half of the rent - don’t argue with me Hoseok, I’m paying - and save up to maybe go back to school?”

“Yes!” Seokjin agrees, beaming, practically before the words have even left Yoongi’s mouth. “Yes, I can literally make the calls and have an interview set up before we get back.”

Yoongi ducks his head appreciatively.

“Thank you, hyung.”

Seokjin throws his arms around Yoongi in a crushing hug, burying his nose in the top of the younger boy’s head.

“Anything for you, Yoongi-yah. You know that. Always.”

“I know,” Yoongi responds, voice thick with emotion. He turns to Hoseok with a hesitant quirk of his lips. “So, you really do still need that roommate, right?”

“Will it still make you happy?” Hoseok asks, pulling Yoongi out of Seokjin’s arms and back into his.

Yoongi shivers in his arms, tipping his head back to meet Hoseok’s eyes, black hair falling across his forehead and intimately painted-on freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, being anywhere with you will make me happy, Seok-ah. Always has, always will.”

No one tries to make them move again for a long while, until the sun has nearly disappeared over the horizon. No one tries to take Yoongi from his arms,

and looking into the galaxies of Yoongi’s eyes that he thinks he can see the future in, he knows with certainty that no one ever will again.