Work Text:
Yoongi jerks awake to the sound of the door to their apartment clicking shut. He blinks several times before his eyes make out the dark blurry shape that is Taehyung toeing off his shoes at the entrance.
"You didn't go to sleep?" Taehyung asks as he walks to the switchboard and flicks a light on. Yoongi buries his face further into the cushion, making an unintelligible sound and flapping one hand in the air in some vague gesture to tell Taehyung to turn it off.
Taehyung laughs from somewhere deep in his chest and does as requested.
"Better?" he murmurs, much closer now that he's taken a seat beside Yoongi on the couch.
Yoongi pulls himself upright, giving a sleepy deep-throated affirmation as he bends forward to pick his phone from the coffee table and look at the time because he has no recollection of falling asleep. The anime he’d put on looks completely foreign now, well past the episode Yoongi had been watching.
11:45
Yoongi squints at the screen before his eyes grow wide, and he twists to look at Taehyung who's leaning back against the couch in an attempt to stretch his spine.
"It's almost twelve. What happened?"
"We had to revise the proposal thrice, and when we finished the guys at the office wanted to get some drinks, and after that I don't know."
Taehyung pauses to groan once he starts to rotate his shoulder to relieve some of the stiffness there, undoubtedly a result of driving for long. They’ve been looking for apartments closer to Taehyung’s office that won’t be far from Yoongi’s workplace either, but neither of them have been satisfied with the options so far.
"You remember Mingyu?" Taehyung turns to look at him, and Yoongi struggles to recall the face of Taehyung's colleague. "We had dinner at his place a few months ago? Anyway, he was drunk so I had to drive his car back home, and then I had to come pick my own from the office and it was a mess."
Yoongi taps on the messaging app and brings the screen close to his nose as he reads the texts Taehyung sent him, all of them spaced out by an hour.
> Hey, work will go on for long. I'll probably eat before I come back. Don't stay up.
> Me and a couple of guys from office are getting drinks. I'll come home by 10.
> I'm sorry, it's gonna take longer :< Go to sleep, okay? I'll be home soon.
"You should've gone to bed," Taehyung tells him, and Yoongi looks away from his phone to see Taehyung peeling his jacket off his shoulders.
When he begins to undo the first few buttons of his shirt and cuffs, Yoongi has to thank the dark because twelve months into their marriage and he still feels his cheeks warm at the sight of his husband undressing in front of him.
"Did you eat?" Yoongi asks him, trying to ignore the heat spreading across his face. There's so much skin, obviously, because Taehyung has skin. It’d be more alarming if he didn't.
"I had pasta. Did you eat?" Taehyung shifts slightly to face Yoongi, and the movement causes their thighs to touch. There's a suspicious lilt in his voice which would offend Yoongi if it wasn’t a well-established fact that Yoongi is awful at keeping to his mealtimes.
He’d munched on some tortilla chips while he worked (which was almost five hours ago?) but Taehyung doesn't need to know that.
"I ate," he says and rolls his eyes for good measure.
Taehyung hums and doesn't sound like he believes him. Yoongi can only hope that he doesn't spot the packet of Doritos in the dark.
For a while, both of them are quiet. But it isn’t uncomfortable like it used to be a few months ago.
Yoongi is watching the anime on mute, absently thinking about the new development project he'd taken on the week before when Taehyung breaks the silence again.
“Did you hear from my mother?” he asks, and he sounds exhausted. “About the anniversary celebration? Mom initially wanted to do an exclusive interview with us and close family. I managed to convince her out of it thankfully, but she wants to invite the press to the event instead and she won’t budge.”
Yoongi hums a vague affirmative as he picks up the remote and switches off the television, unable to tell what’s going on in the anime anymore. He’d gotten a call from Taehyung’s mother earlier in the day.
“She wants to meet us for lunch on Sunday,” he tells Taehyung because she’d specifically instructed Yoongi to.
Taehyung groans again, and Yoongi hears him run a hand through his hair and push it off his forehead.
“Like she couldn’t tell me herself,” he mutters and Yoongi side-eyes him. They both know that she always approaches Yoongi because he has little choices in these matters.
“Anyway, we can deal with that on Sunday itself," Taehyung says in resignation. "I’m going to take a shower before I pass out on this couch and crack my spine open.”
Without his contacts and in the absence of the light from the television, Yoongi finds it difficult to discern Taehyung’s movements in the dark.
He registers Taehyung picking himself off the couch and grabbing his jacket before his husband braces a palm on the backrest behind Yoongi’s head and dips down low to close the distance between Yoongi and himself.
It’s a thing they have.
Neither of them have acknowledged it or given it a name, but it began during the countless company dinners and family gatherings where they were needed to pretend like they were a newly married couple very much in love with each other despite having met only a few weeks before.
It had been awkward the first few times, but they quickly grew familiar with the routine. Taehyung would wrap an arm around Yoongi’s waist, and Yoongi would curl into him and smile, gums and everything. They’d laugh. Taehyung would lean down and Yoongi would whisper something sarcastic in his ear. It’d make Taehyung giggle.
And then sometimes, when they’d feel eyes on them, Taehyung would slant his head and kiss Yoongi’s cheek briefly.
The shutters would go off around them, and Taehyung’s parents would smile and nod at Yoongi in approval. But no one could tell just how hard Yoongi's heart would thrash against his chest each time it happened.
It went on like that for months, and in the whirlwind of cocktail parties and charity events, before Yoongi could wrap his head around it, it became a thing. Even in the absence of the camera lenses and their family’s threatening eyes, Taehyung grew more open with his affection. The kisses never strayed from Yoongi’s cheek, but Taehyung never failed to press them against his skin and whisper goodnight each night before they separated into their individual bedrooms.
Except it’s dark, and Yoongi can’t tell how Taehyung is oriented. He twists his face to the left, just a little, to see Taehyung better, but the movement brings their lips together by accident and both of them freeze stiff in the moment.
It’s not even a kiss. Their lips are barely grazing, but they’re close enough for Yoongi to feel Taehyung’s breaths against his mouth.
And he feels time slow down unnaturally. The entire apartment is silent save for the sounds of their quiet breathing, and Yoongi doesn’t know how long the two of them stay like that, but it feels like an entire eternity passes before Taehyung whispers an apology and starts to pull himself away.
Something in that moment suddenly feels horribly wrong, like if he doesn’t rectify it immediately, he may end up losing something he didn’t even know he had the chance of possessing.
And Yoongi is not a reckless person by nature, but before he can consider what possesses him, he is reaching out and grabbing Taehyung by the bicep, stopping him in his motion before he can pull away completely.
It’s dark but Yoongi can tell that Taehyung is staring at him, unmoving and with little distance between them.
And another long silence follows although this one is a lot less welcome. Yoongi feels like they’re standing at the edge of a cliff, and one of them is about to push the other into it.
But the moment comes to a halt when Taehyung moves, and it’s like a giant tidal wave is about to crash into him because where Taehyung had been supporting himself on his palm on the backrest, he now bends his arm by the elbow so that he’s leaning further into the couch and caging Yoongi against it.
Taehyung digs a knee into the couch and all at once he’s looming over Yoongi, engulfing him before he dips down low once again and closes the distance between their mouths.
It’s just the press of their lips. For a long moment, neither of them move, almost like they're waiting for the other to pull away.
But when Yoongi doesn't shove him away, Taehyung presses closer and carefully moves his lips against Yoongi's.
Like a machine slowly whirring to life, Yoongi mirrors his movements, and the kiss eases from awkward to something marginally sweeter yet hesitant. It’s closed lips and a whole lot of heavy silence, and Taehyung pulls away after a few moments.
“We need to talk,” he whispers.
Yoongi meets his eyes. Talking is just about the last thing he wants to do at the moment.
“We can talk about it tomorrow,” he whispers and slides his arms around Taehyung’s neck, bringing him down so they’re close again, not kissing but breathing the same air.
Yoongi watches Taehyung lick his lips and consider it.
“Okay,” his husband finally whispers and leans forward, and they're kissing again.
This kiss is a lot less hesitant. Taehyung kisses Yoongi like he does just about everything else, both confident and careful, and Yoongi tightens his arms around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him closer till Taehyung is fully straddling him, his front pressed against Yoongi’s and the slide of their mouths wet and urgent.
Taehyung’s hands find Yoongi’s waist, and Yoongi absently thinks that he hears the sound of Taehyung’s jacket falling on the floor. He hopes they don’t step on it by accident, but any thought of that is instantly wiped from his mind when Yoongi feels Taehyung’s tongue swipe at his lip.
He nearly whines when he parts his lips and Taehyung licks inside his mouth. The sounds of their kissing, the little breathy gasps and moans are loud in the silence of their apartment, and Yoongi doesn’t know how long they just kiss like that, but after a while the desperation eases and they kiss deeply but without the urgency from before.
And Yoongi does whine when Taehyung pulls away eventually.
“I’m going to shower,” his husband rasps, voice rough and clearly out of breath.
“What?”
Taehyung gently pulls away from Yoongi, and Yoongi releases his hold on Taehyung’s neck, arms falling back on the couch in confusion.
“I’m going to shower,” Taehyung repeats gently and brings a knuckle to graze Yoongi’s jaw, “and if this is something we both still want after we’ve had some time to clear our heads, then we can continue. Does that sound good?”
Yoongi exhales, leaning back against the couch as he catches his breath.
“Okay, sounds good,” he says, and Taehyung smiles and pecks him briefly on the cheek before he picks himself off Yoongi and retreats to his room.
When the door clicks shut behind him, Yoongi slumps back into the couch and wonders whether that was his husband’s polite way of dismissing him.
Except when he retreats to his own room and stands under the stream of his shower, Yoongi does admit that it’s a good thing Taehyung stopped them when he did.
He mulls over the events of the night as he brushes his teeth and changes into a pair of light gray sweatpants and a white loose shirt with a stretched neckline that he suspects belongs to Taehyung.
Yoongi has known his feelings for Taehyung for several months now. His attraction was evident to himself on the very evening they met. When Taehyung sat across him in the restaurant their parents had arranged their meeting at, challenging Yoongi’s cold stare with his own and looking every bit as handsome and daunting as Yoongi had heard as he sipped his wine and raised an eyebrow at Yoongi in question.
(“Your mother told me that you were enthusiastic about this arrangement, but I’m guessing that’s not the case?”
“You have impressive deduction skills, Taehyung-ssi.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t have a choice in the matter. What about you? Are you going to say yes?”
“Do you want me to say yes?”
“I just said that it doesn’t matter. If it’s not you, they’ll marry me off to somebody else.”
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter what I say, right?”)
Taehyung had grinned wickedly at him, and Yoongi had felt the heat flare behind his cheeks. But he buried it under the storm of silent fury that had been brewing inside him.
The beginning of their relationship wasn’t smooth, not when Yoongi was forced into the arrangement to solidify a merger with the Kims. And Taehyung had been an easy target at the time.
His husband had been on the receiving end of most of Yoongi’s scathing anger, and he’d taken it all, no matter what Yoongi said to him, things that shame him to think about now. But Taehyung stood resilient against all of it, and before Yoongi knew it, months had passed and he was tired of fighting what had lodged its roots in his heart and coiled its vines around his ribcage. Something that ran much, much deeper than the initial superficial attraction and only seemed to suffocate him the more he struggled against it.
Yoongi finds Taehyung’s room empty when he enters it, but then he hears the sound of water running in the bathroom. He perches on what is technically their bed, but other than the few rare times someone from either of their friend circles spent the night, Yoongi always sleeps in the guestroom.
It’s awkward because his presence in the room alone clearly indicates his answer, but he doesn’t know if Taehyung feels the same. After everything that’s happened between them, it’s inconceivable to Yoongi why his husband would feel the same. He wonders if he should leave before Taehyung finds him. For all he knows, it probably was a dismissal. Taehyung was too kind to let him down and tell him that he wasn’t interested.
But in the one year Yoongi has spent with Taehyung in close quarters, he's never known him to do something like that. Taehyung is kind, but he always says what he means. He’s straightforward, and his honesty is his kindness.
The sound of the door opening startles Yoongi out of his thoughts. He’d been so lost in his head, he hadn’t noticed when the sound of running water was silenced.
Taehyung is towelling his hair dry when he emerges from the bathroom, and he pauses once he spots Yoongi on the bed. Yoongi’s eyes snap wide open. Taehyung’s not worn a shirt, and his pants hang low on his hips.
Yoongi immediately darts his gaze back to Taehyung’s face who is watching him with obvious surprise. The silence stretches between them, and Yoongi’s lips stiffly pull at a corner.
“You look surprised,” he says, and something in his chest distinctly hardens. Yoongi laughs and pushes his hair off his forehead as he slowly stands back up from where he’d awkwardly been sitting on the edge of the bed. “I suppose—I should leave, I’m sorry.”
“No—”
Yoongi hasn’t even fully turned towards the door. He stops and twists his neck to stare back at Taehyung in confusion. Taehyung tosses his towel somewhere behind him before he takes four quick strides towards Yoongi and grabs hold of his wrist.
“Wait. I was just surprised,” Taehyung says. His eyes are wide, and Yoongi sees his own uncertainty reflected in them. “You don’t have to leave, not unless you want to leave obviously.”
Taehyung lets go of Yoongi’s wrist quickly like the touch burnt him, and Yoongi stares at him a little incredulously.
He slowly turns back around to face Taehyung fully.
“I don’t want to leave,” he says, as if it wasn’t obvious already.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” Taehyung says, and for a moment, both of them stare at each other, and almost simultaneously, they burst into disbelieving laughter.
It is absurd. They’re about to enter their thirties, and they’re married, but Yoongi still feels his heart kick inside his chest.
“Okay,” he answers, smiling.
Taehyung bites his lip and breaks Yoongi’s gaze when he looks at the floor between their feet. He huffs out a laugh, probably realising himself that they’re acting like teenagers.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks and meets Yoongi’s eyes again.
His hair has grown long enough for his damp bangs to hang in front of his eyes, and Yoongi steps forward to brush them away. Taehyung watches him, eyes soft, and instead of a verbal response, Yoongi curls an arm around Taehyung’s neck and pulls him down to kiss him, smiling as he does.
Taehyung’s hands come to hold him by the waist, pulling him closer, and suddenly it’s like they never stopped. The kiss turns heated quickly. Yoongi moans into it and lets Taehyung walk him back till he feels the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.
Taehyung pulls away to look at him.
“I don’t—” he starts, voice low and gravelly. His lips are slick red and his breaths come out in pants. “What do you want?” he asks.
Yoongi doesn’t permit himself to overthink it.
“Lie down?” he asks him, a palm on Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung licks his lips and nods. He climbs on the bed and twists around so he can scoot back till his head meets the headboard, and Yoongi follows him, swinging a leg over his hips and straddling him.
He cracks a fond smile when he runs his palms across Taehyung’s chest and feels his husband’s heart racing.
“Come here,” Taehyung requests, and Yoongi bends to meet him for a deep kiss. Taehyung’s hand comes to hold him by the nape of his neck. He runs his fingers through the hair there, scratching the base of his scalp, and Yoongi hums into the kiss.
He splays out his fingers on Taehyung’s sternum and supports himself on it when he pulls away to ask, “Can I suck you off?”
Taehyung’s eyes grow wide.
“Is that—” he swallows, “is that something you want to do?”
Yoongi can’t help the roll of his eyes. Of course Taehyung is like this in bed as well. He’s always been so composed and careful, and Yoongi can’t help the thrill that suddenly streaks down his spine at the thought of yanking that composure from him, to have his husband come apart underneath him.
“Just lay back,” he says instead, pushing Taehyung back against the bed. “I want you to be comfortable.”
Yoongi feels the way Taehyung shivers under him when he bends down to kiss his stomach. It makes him smile, and he bites down on the soft skin under his belly button, right above the waistband of his sweatpants, and Taehyung gasps.
Yoongi wants to tease him more, wants to kiss and mark his thighs and the back of his knees, but he’s not sure he can last long either. He taps at Taehyung’s hipbone with a finger, and Taehyung lifts his hips to allow Yoongi to slide his pants down his legs and toss them behind them on the floor.
Taehyung isn’t wearing anything underneath, and for a moment Yoongi stares at his cock and licks his lips. He’s big, but nothing Yoongi can’t handle. He wraps a hand around it and looks up at Taehyung who’s watching him with lidded hungry eyes.
Without looking away, Yoongi lowers himself onto his cock, wrapping his mouth over the head and licking at its tip. The reaction is immediate. Taehyung arches up into him and squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, but Yoongi pulls away from him.
“Look at me,” he says, and Taehyung blinks his eyes back open to look at Yoongi as if he’s in a daze even though Yoongi’s barely touched him. “I want you to watch me,” Yoongi repeats before he goes down on him again.
Taehyung’s fingers fist the fabric of the sheets, and neither of them look away as Yoongi slowly bobs his head up and down his length. He goes deeper with every egress, and it’s an intimacy unlike any before. Taehyung watches him with dark eyes and a parted mouth, soft moans leaving him despite his attempts, and Yoongi feels even more determined to make him come apart.
Deep throating isn’t something he’s done in a while, obviously, since it’s been a year of living with his husband and pretending they’re roommates. But it’s something he enjoyed doing in his college years, and perhaps Yoongi wants to show off a little, but regardless of the reason, he slides his mouth further down till he feels Taehyung’s cock hit the back of his throat.
He hears Taehyung make a needy noise, and it only pushes him further. He relaxes his throat and takes in more of Taehyung till his nose is buried in the thick black hair at the base of Taehyung’s cock.
“Fuck,” Taehyung groans from somewhere deep inside his chest. “I’m not—I’m not going to last long.”
Yoongi is nobody to judge. He is so close to it himself just by sucking Taehyung off. He gently plays with Taehyung’s balls with his hand, and Taehyung’s hands tangle themselves in his hair. He doesn’t pull at it, just rests them there, and Yoongi is glad because he’s never liked his hair being pulled.
“Yoongi, I’m not—shit,” Taehyung curses and lets his head fall back against the pillow. He’s not holding back anymore, and he sounds so hot, voice deep and breaking around his words as Yoongi swallows around him and slides up and down his length slowly.
It’s only a couple of minutes later when Yoongi is teasingly curling his tongue around Taehyung that he feels a gentle tug at his hair and Taehyung cries out a warning.
Yoongi draws back a little before Taehyung trembles and spills inside his throat. Some of it escapes him, but Yoongi manages to swallow the rest before he pulls off Taehyung completely.
“Come here, sweetheart, please,” Taehyung rasps out, fingers sliding down to hold Yoongi’s face by his chin and pull him up for a kiss so sickeningly sweet after such a heated moment.
Yoongi is caught by surprise when Taehyung flips them around and suddenly it’s Yoongi with his back pressed into the mattress.
“Your turn,” Taehyung almost growls into the kiss, and Yoongi feels his fingers skim down his chest to tug at the hem of his shirt and push it up to his chin.
Yoongi shivers when the chilled air of the room suddenly hits his bare skin. He watches Taehyung sit back and look at him with heated eyes, taking him in slowly, and it has his skin breaking out in goosebumps.
Yoongi lets his eyes skate over his husband’s broad chest, the delectable dip of his collar bones, his defined arms and his long fingers that are curved around Yoongi’s waist. Almost reflexively, the feeling of self-consciousness rises to his throat. The urge to shrink away from Taehyung’s gaze grows, but Yoongi forcibly swallows it down.
He spreads his legs wider and raises his arms in invitation, watching the way Taehyung’s eyes darken with want. The feeling of being so obviously wanted by his husband has his entire body trembling with anticipation.
“God,” Taehyung exhales, his eyes darting back to meet Yoongi’s. “You’re so sexy, baby.”
Yoongi’s breath hitches when Taehyung dips low enough to swipe at Yoongi’s hardened nipple with his tongue. He gasps and arches into Taehyung when his husband closes his mouth over the bud and gives it a hard suck.
Yoongi grabs Taehyung by the shoulders and digs his nails into the skin, to pull him closer or push him away, he doesn’t know. He thrashes and falls back against the bed, kicking his legs uselessly as Taehyung licks and sucks and nips at the bud relentlessly.
“So pink everywhere,” Taehyung says once he releases the reddened nipple after reducing Yoongi to incoherency, and his hand snakes down to Yoongi’s cock that’s hard and obvious under the thin cotton of his sweatpants.
“Are you pink down here too?” Taehyung asks him, voice so low and sultry, Yoongi shudders deep within. He pants as he stares at the ceiling because looking at Taehyung seems impossible at the moment. Each time he thinks Taehyung can’t possibly overwhelm him anymore, he opens his mouth and says some shit like this that leaves him blindsided.
“Take a look for yourself,” Yoongi rasps out and somehow manages to sound deadpan even though he feels utterly debauched. Taehyung is clearly taking his time to ruin him, and Yoongi doesn’t know if he wants to whine and beg him to touch him or ram a knee into his crotch for being so utterly maddening.
But thankfully Taehyung doesn’t waste anymore time after that. He pulls down both Yoongi’s sweatpants and his boxers to his thighs till his cock springs free, and Yoongi doesn’t have to see to know the gleeful expression on his face.
He hides his face in his palms but Taehyung laughs and tugs them away. He kisses him once again, and it’s not as desperate this time. It is deep and sensual, and Taehyung’s mouth moves against his languidly, kissing his top lip and then his bottom, licking into him and smiling.
“My pretty pink Yoongi,” he teases, “even your cock is pretty. You’re so unfair.”
“You—ah you’re the one who’s being unfair,” Yoongi complains in between kisses.
Taehyung hums in question like he’s oblivious to what Yoongi could possibly be complaining about, and Yoongi should’ve known he’s going to be like this.
“Touch me already,” he nearly whines, needy and absolutely fed up, and Taehyung pulls away to laugh into his neck before he kisses the skin there.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says, the fondness in his voice at odds with the way his hand grips Yoongi’s bare thigh possessively while he twists to his left to pull open a drawer and grab a bottle of lube.
And Yoongi can’t hold in the sound that leaves him when Taehyung finally wraps his slick hand around his cock. He squeezes his eyes shut, on the verge of tears as Taehyung strokes him closer to his orgasm, and his moans are silenced when Taehyung pounces on him for another messy kiss.
“You’ll come for me, won’t you, Yoongi?” Taehyung breathes into Yoongi’s mouth, voice slipping further and further into his countryside accent as he whispers filthy promises into Yoongi’s mouth and jerks him faster and harder.
And as if in response, Yoongi digs his nails harder into Taehyung’s shoulders and shudders, immediately going limp and spilling into Taehyung’s hand.
“Just like that, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.” Taehyung rides him through the orgasm until Yoongi eventually collapses on the mattress.
Taehyung pulls away till they’re panting into each other’s mouths, chests pressed together and faces so close. Looking into Taehyung’s eyes, he can see the affection and care he’s grown so familiar to seeing, except it’s now mixed with a reverence that’s new.
“Was that okay?” Taehyung breathes into the silence that’s filled by the sound of their hard breathing, and Yoongi has to blink rapidly to bring himself back to the reality he’d known outside of this bedroom. The shift feels disorienting all of a sudden.
Yoongi has no idea what to say so he settles for nodding. Taehyung nods as well, and for a moment it’s as if they both are at a loss for words, but Taehyung recovers first.
“Give me a minute. I’ll clean us up.” He presses a quick kiss to Yoongi’s forehead before climbing off the bed to enter the bathroom attached to the room. Yoongi hears the sound of running water before Taehyung returns with a damp cloth and helps clean Yoongi up.
Yoongi pulls his pants back up and fixes his shirt, but Taehyung chooses to collapse on the bed beside Yoongi. And Yoongi doesn’t know how to fill the silence. He has no idea where they stand or what Taehyung is thinking. They’d decided to talk in the morning, so Yoongi supposes the logical course of action now would be to return to their own rooms.
But just as he pushes himself to sit upright, Taehyung’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts.
“Wanna have ice cream?”
Yoongi twists around to look at Taehyung who’s lying on his side propped up on an elbow, watching him with his cheek on his palm.
“I bought two tubs yesterday,” he says, and it takes Yoongi a second to realise that this is Taehyung’s attempt at bringing back some normalcy to their relationship. For a long moment, Yoongi stares at his husband, his thoughts raging a hurricane in his head, but then his shoulders sag where they’d been pulled tight and, why the fuck not?
“Sure,” he shrugs and Taehyung immediately grins at him, wide and impossibly bright. He hops back on his feet, shimmying into his pants before he walks out of the room and into the kitchen.
Yoongi hears him putter about in the refrigerator for a few moments until there’s the sound of the door being shut and Taehyung emerges at the doorway once again.
“Chocolate chip for me, and your vanilla.” He makes a face as he hands Yoongi his tub, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, more than used to Taehyung bitching about his preferred ice cream flavor every chance he gets.
It reminds him of their first date when Taehyung had quickly dropped all pretense of enjoying the fancy restaurant their parents had arranged their dinner at, suggesting that they go get some convenience store ice cream instead.
The thought makes him grin now. Yoongi hadn’t had a choice back then, but watching Taehyung bite down on his elaborate chocolate ice cream cone as they stood leaning against the hood of his car, for the first time, Yoongi had felt the dread in his stomach ease just a little.
“I already brushed my teeth though,” Yoongi mutters as he opens the lid and digs his spoon into the frozen dessert. He startles when Taehyung laughs, and looks up at his husband where he has seated himself in front of Yoongi on the bed.
“You did much more with that mouth, love. Eating ice cream should be the last of your concerns right now.”
Yoongi shoots Taehyung an unimpressed look, and Taehyung laughs again.
They continue to eat in silence, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. Yoongi is thinking about what will happen to them once it ends when suddenly Taehyung speaks again.
“I know you said you wanted to talk about it tomorrow,” he starts slowly, like he’s not sure if he should be saying it at all, and Yoongi looks up at him with creased eyebrows. “But I don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow. And I am not sure if I’ll be able to do this then.”
Yoongi parts his lips, but he doesn’t get a chance to speak because Taehyung suddenly leans forward and traps his chin between a thumb and his knuckle, pulling him closer and pressing their mouths together.
The kiss is soft, and Yoongi stares at Taehyung in confusion when they part.
“I like you,” Taehyung whispers.
The words are spoken quietly and with care, and Yoongi feels his heart go still. His mouth tingles where Taehyung kissed him, and for a moment the two of them stay like that, staring at one another, till Taehyung lets go of him and leans back.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asks softly.
Yoongi is frozen stiff where he sits. He wants to speak but he can’t find the words.
Taehyung takes his silence for a response, and Yoongi watches him exhale, a loud tired thing, before his husband runs his hand through his hair and breaks gaze, looking down at his lap.
“I’m sorry. I thought—I thought there was something between us. But I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Just like before, Yoongi feels as if everything is at its precipice, and they’re at the edge of yet another cliff. Everything’s about to go wrong, and Yoongi—he can’t have that.
He doesn’t have the words, has no poetic confession, nothing that could do justice to the feelings that have been crammed in his chest for months, threatening to suffocate him, but he’s reaching out anyway.
He shoves the ice cream away, elsewhere on the bed, he couldn’t care less where, and crawls up to Taehyung, lifting his chin like he’d done with him.
“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, and his chest that was so heavy suddenly empties itself in just those three words, leaving him utterly breathless. Taehyung looks the same as Yoongi feels, eyes wide with surprise, and Yoongi finds himself stuttering again, “I—I’ve loved you for some time now.”
“Since when?” Taehyung breathes out.
This is harder to word because falling in love with Taehyung wasn’t like a flood. It didn’t happen all at once. It was like a crack in the tank, one that leaked slowly, unnoticeable to somebody who wasn’t paying attention, and Yoongi definitely wasn’t paying attention. Not until he was chest-deep in the crushing water with no way out.
But there is one moment that comes to his mind. It’s when he knew, when he knew he was sunk.
“When I walked out of that restaurant?” Yoongi starts. He sits back on the bed, his knees touching Taehyung’s, and he sees Taehyung’s eyes flicker with recognition. “We were having dinner with your parents and they kept going on about how we needed to start looking for surrogate mothers? Like adoption wasn’t even a respectable option.”
Yoongi laughs drily, but Taehyung’s hand finds his own and laces their fingers together. The unsubtle jabs at the lack of Yoongi’s lineage come often enough that he’s had to grow accustomed to ignoring them, but both of them know that they’ll never not hurt.
“I stormed out of the restaurant and you chased after me in the rain like a fucking idiot.” Yoongi smiles at the memory even though it is an awful one. “That’s when I knew for sure. Pretty sure it was longer, but that’s when it really sunk in.”
“But you hated me then.”
“I—”
“No, you told me you hated me that night.”
Yoongi exhales and rubs a palm over his face, the one that’s not interlaced with Taehyung’s. He did say that, amongst other much worse things.
“I was being hurtful on purpose,” he admits and meets Taehyung’s eyes. “I didn’t hate you. I never hated you, just hated the circumstances I met you under. I’m sorry, I didn’t even apologise properly for what I said to you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“No, I do,” Yoongi says with more force. “You didn’t deserve it. You were just the easiest person to target at the time.”
Taehyung looks at their hands, and for a moment he’s silent. When he speaks again, he squeezes Yoongi’s hand.
“You didn’t deserve this either,” he says, voice both thick and quiet.
And something in Yoongi’s chest suddenly hardens. It’s the way Taehyung sounds defeated, the way Taehyung, who’s been nothing but so stupidly good to him, thinks that he should be the one apologising. It makes Yoongi pull his hand out of Taehyung’s hold and grab him by the cheeks, forcing Taehyung to look at him.
“I didn’t want this, but we both know that,” he says matter-of-factly because it is the truth. “It wasn’t an ideal marriage, and I wish our start wasn’t so manufactured, that it wasn’t what it was, but I don’t regret it.”
Taehyung’s face is still hard, not entirely convinced, and Yoongi sighs. He leans forward till their foreheads touch.
“By the end of the day, I’m married to you and that’s all that matters,” he whispers. “It may not be an ideal marriage, but with you, it’s hard to mind.”
Taehyung’s eyes soften, and Yoongi watches his lips stretch into a slow sweet smile.
“Sweetheart, you’re making it very hard for me not to kiss you right now,” he whispers.
Yoongi has to laugh. He meets Taehyung’s gaze, and he knows that this is a moment he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the way Taehyung looks at him like there’s nothing else worth watching.
“What’s stopping you?” he whispers against Taehyung’s lips, and Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. He grins and slants his head to slot their lips together, and Yoongi finds himself smiling into the kiss.
They kiss for long, deep and sensual, and if he wasn’t so desperate, Yoongi would be embarrassed by how quickly his body responds to Taehyung’s fingers slipping under his shirt to encircle his waist.
He doesn’t think before he crawls into Taehyung’s lap to straddle him. But judging by how quickly Taehyung’s arms wrap themselves fully around his midriff, tugging him even closer till they’re pressed against each other, he doesn’t seem to mind. Arousal streaks down Yoongi’s spine, and he slides his arms around Taehyung’s neck before rolling his hips down against his crotch.
Taehyung moans into the kiss.
“You want it?” he asks breathlessly before pushing Yoongi down till he’s pressing him into the mattress and looming over him. “Again?”
Yoongi feels the hard outline of Taehyung’s cock pressing against his own when Taehyung spreads Yoongi’s legs a little wider and thrusts down harder against his stuttering hips.
“Want you,” he gasps out in between kisses, shivering underneath Taehyung’s broader body. “Always want you.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung says over the wet smacks of their kisses, the breathy gasps, and Yoongi whines when he pulls away only to latch onto his neck, dropping kisses along his throat and biting down hard where Yoongi’s neck slopes into his shoulder.
When Taehyung finally pulls away after marking what Yoongi is sure is a dark flaming bruise on his skin, Yoongi lets himself look at him, at his mouth that’s swollen and cherry-red. Because of him.
The knowledge has Yoongi’s body tingling for an entirely different reason. And when Taehyung tugs up the hem of his shirt, Yoongi lifts his arms and lets him pull it off him in one harsh motion and toss it on the floor. Taehyung does the same with his pants, throwing them to the side without looking away from where Yoongi lies underneath him, and it’s a different kind of intimacy, being completely naked under Taehyung’s dark eyes.
Taehyung doesn’t let him curl away. He runs his palms down Yoongi’s bare thighs till he reaches his knees and lifts one of them to press a kiss against it.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, and Yoongi watches him through his lashes as he slides his palms down to hold Yoongi’s feet by his ankles.
“What are you doing?” he asks him when Taehyung starts to bend Yoongi’s knees and push them up until they’re flattened against his chest and he has one of Yoongi’s ankles pressed against his mouth.
“You have pretty feet.” Taehyung places an open mouthed kiss over the jut of Yoongi’s pale ankle, and Yoongi gasps. His foot jerks in Taehyung’s hold but Taehyung grips him tighter. “Pretty ankles.”
“Ankles?” Yoongi echoes incredulously, but his voice shakes, and he sounds breathless and wrecked. “That’s what gets you off?”
Taehyung laughs, and Yoongi’s entire body tingles. His husband looks absolutely devilish when he smiles at him, his sweat-damp hair hanging low over his eyes.
“My vanilla sweetheart,” Taehyung teases him, and presses one sweet kiss into the arch of Yoongi’s foot, “we’re going to have so much fun, I promise you.”