Chapter Text
⋯
It’s his eyes, Yoongi thinks. It must be his eyes, the first thing that drew Yoongi in, tugged like a magnet, unable to look away. Galaxies and nebulas swirling, starbursts exploding in the light from the streetlight over them. And the way they shifted, dancing and sparkling as they creased, scrunching with his nose as his lips pulled up in a smile. A tattooed hand extended, warm palm pressed against Yoongi’s as he introduced himself and - yeah.
It’s his eyes.
That gaze that pulled him in and wouldn’t let go. A riptide, dragging him under to drown in warm bottomless depths. Yoongi should have known it right then, when Jungkook had turned to face them, the kaleidoscope of his eyes melting into a thousand colors. He can never stay away, not from those eyes.
⋯
The call comes when Yoongi is already in his pajamas. Well, he’s not sure he can say already when he never bothered getting dressed in the first place. Saturdays are for pajamas and not combing his hair. He’s lounging on the couch and that should be accomplishment enough that he’s not curled up under his blankets in bed. But he made it to the couch, beer on the coffee table, iPad in hand as he scrolls through one of his favorite travel blogs. If he zones out enough, he can almost believe he’s the one in Barcelona.
When his phone vibrates, Yoongi considers not answering. He stares at the phone for a full three rings, Jimin’s name and contact picture featured prominently on the screen, before he reluctantly picks it up.
“Jimin,” he says by way of greeting, voice monotone.
Jimin is not deterred by his lack of enthusiasm. “Put on pants, we’re going out!”
“We are not going anywhere, I’m busy.”
“Yoonie,” Jimin whines, the pout evident in his voice. “Our friend is visiting from out of town, we want to show him a good time!”
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi shifts the phone to his other ear so he can grab his beer bottle. He’s going to need it to get through this conversation. “Invite the Hoseoks then,” he huffs. Hoseok is much more fun than Yoongi is, which isn’t a slight against himself, just an objective fact.
“We tried,” Jimin pleads. “They’re busy tonight. You have to come!”
Even knowing that Hoseok and his husband are objectively more fun and that he has no desire to go out tonight, Yoongi can’t help but feel a small sting. Maybe it hurts a little, to know he wasn’t their first choice. He wouldn’t have chosen himself either, but it feels like Jimin is settling for his final option. “I have plans too.”
“Sitting in your pajamas reading National Geographic is not plans, Yoongi.”
Scowling, Yoongi takes a sip of his beer. “I’m not reading National Geographic.”
“Mhm, right.” Jimin doesn’t sound convinced. “Look, our friend is only here for the weekend. He’s super sweet and super fun.” A pause. “And very cute.”
Yoongi would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued by that fact. But it still doesn’t matter, any cute friend of Jimin and Taehyung would be miles out of his league. “Jimin –”
“Don’t say no,” Jimin interrupts. “Please?”
“I just want to stay in tonight,” Yoongi says reluctantly.
Jimin makes a soft noise of dissatisfaction. “Yoongi, love, you’ve stayed in every night for the past… three months? You need to get out some time, we miss you. Pretty please?”
The puppy eyes are evident in Jimin’s voice, he can picture the pout perfectly. Sighing, Yoongi turns off his iPad and shoves his throw blanket off his lap. He probably should get out of the apartment for a bit, and then he has an excuse to not do anything for another few months. “Fine. When and where?”
“Oh, yay!” Jimin nearly shrieks. “I thought you’d take more convincing or I’d have to come drag you out myself.” He giggles. “Dinner and dancing at the club by the wharf. Meet us at the spot on Spring at seven?”
Yoongi glances at the clock on the wall, it’s a little after five now. That gives him time for a shower and a mirror pep talk before he needs to leave for the twenty minute walk to Spring Street. “Alright,” he says with a sigh. “Anything else?”
“No.” A pause. “Wait!” Jimin giggles again. “Dress cute!”
Before Yoongi can say anything else, the line goes dead and he’s left staring at his phone. Shoving himself to his feet, Yoongi drains the rest of his beer and heads for his bedroom. He’s fully aware he got himself into this, he shouldn’t have answered the phone. He could have just hidden in his apartment and watched a foodie travel show on Netflix.
It’s been a while since he’s been out with Jimin and Taehyung, long enough that his liver probably can’t handle it anymore. He knows he’s in for something exhausting and probably a little wild. He wound up nearly sleeping in a bush last time, before Taehyung had thrown Yoongi over his shoulder and carried him home like a sack of potatoes. But not this time, Yoongi will keep control of himself and not be pressured into double fisting shots. Hopefully.
⋯
Jimin and Taehyung are already at the corner of Spring Street when Yoongi arrives, giggling together at something on Jimin’s phone. They look up at Yoongi’s approach, Taehyung waving as Jimin squeals.
“I thought you might not show up,” Jimin laughs, pulling Yoongi into a tight hug.
Yoongi hugs him back awkwardly, patting Jimin’s back before stepping away. Taehyung hugs him next, squeezing Yoongi and lifting him off his feet for a moment before he disengages.
“I told you I’d come,” Yoongi huffs, adjusting his shirt. He glances around. “Where’s your friend?”
“We’re meeting him outside the restaurant,” Taehyung offers, nodding up the hill. “Sushi.”
Jimin links his arm through Yoongi’s and tugs him toward the sidewalk. “You’re going to love Jungkook, he was a freshman when we were seniors and Taehyung was his upperclassmen mentor.”
“I still can’t believe they let you be in that mentorship program,” Yoongi snorts. “Didn’t you almost get kicked out of your program for setting the art studio on fire?”
“That was for a performance piece, Yoongi,” Taehyung says dismissively. “I won an award for that. Anyway, Kook was this tiny little doe eyed first year and we took him under our wing. He’s a senior in college now and he’s doing some traveling during the summer.”
Yoongi perks up a little at that. He wonders where Jungkook has been, where he’s going. Yoongi’s always wanted to travel, to see the world and experience new things. He could, probably, but…
“He’s never visited us before,” Jimin chimes in, pulling Yoongi from his thoughts. “We’re super excited. You’ll love him, promise.”
“Sure,” Yoongi says in response.
Taehyung pinches his side, looping his arm through Yoongi’s free one. “Don’t be so negative already.”
“I said sure,” Yoongi argues.
“You used the tone,” Jimin sniffs. “Look, Yoongs, just try to have fun, okay? Loosen up a little, it’s just us.”
Yoongi doesn’t respond. He knows they aren’t wrong, but it’s still annoying to be so transparent to his friends. Maybe he doesn’t go out as much anymore, but he’s busy. He has work and things to do, now that he’s getting close to thirty he has more important things to worry about than going out dancing. And hangovers are tougher now than they were five years ago. A night at home watching TV and maybe ordering takeout from a new restaurant is adventurous enough for most evenings.
⋯
Jungkook is maybe the prettiest thing Yoongi’s ever seen. He feels a little like he’s been struck dumb when Jungkook turns to them, beaming. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone like him, someone who makes his heart beat faster at the brush of their hands.
“Nice to meet you,” Jungkook says, his voice soft and sweet, smile toothy and boyish.
Yoongi licks his lips, feeling the squeeze of Jungkook’s fingers around his when they shake hands, tattoos on his knuckles stark against his skin. “You too,” Yoongi replies, wondering if his voice sounds off to anyone else.
As Jimin and Taehyung envelop Jungkook in hugs, Yoongi takes the opportunity to study the other man. He’s in fitted jeans and a black shirt that clings to a muscular chest. Purple hair to his chin, an eyebrow piercing and a smile that lights up the night. And those eyes. Brighter than stars, glittering like diamonds under the streetlights as Jungkook throws his head back and laughs. It’s a joyful, bright sound, carrying through the night and hitting Yoongi square in the chest.
When Jungkook turns to him, those eyes locking with his own, Yoongi thinks he might forget how to breathe. Jimin grabs his arm again, tugging Yoongi toward the restaurant, and Yoongi feels, somehow, like he’s already in over his head.
⋯
It’s intentional, Yoongi thinks, when Jimin shoves him into a chair, that he winds up next to Jungkook. The tables are small, packed in close in the little sushi restaurant, and their thighs press together. Yoongi is quick to move away, crossing his legs beneath the table to make a bit of space.
Jungkook stands and removes his leather jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows. As he sits back down, Yoongi can’t help but notice how nice he smells. He doesn’t think he’s ever noticed this about someone before and internally kicks himself for being weird.
“Have you ever been here before?” Jungkook asks, turning to him as Jimin and Taehyung pour over a menu across from them.
Yoongi looks away from those startling eyes, glancing at his own menu. “A couple times, it’s good.”
“Do you want to split any rolls?” Jungkook asks.
When Yoongi glances up again, Jungkook is smiling at him, nose scrunched and teeth on display. “Um.” He glances at his menu once more before meeting Jungkook’s gaze again. “Sure.”
They lapse into quiet, Jimin and Taehyung now bickering over their menu. Yoongi swallows, feeling awkward. He clears his throat and Jungkook turns back to him with a pleasant smile. “Your, um, your tattoos are really cool. Do you have a lot?”
Jungkook lights up, nodding enthusiastically. “I do, all up my right arm and one on my right thigh.” Yoongi tries not to think about Jungkook’s thighs in his tight jeans. “I designed most of them myself, actually.”
“Wow.” Yoongi glances at the intricate art on Jungkook’s forearm, disappearing beneath his sleeve. “You’re really talented.”
“Thank you.” Jungkook’s smile widens, boyish and pleased. “I love to draw and create things. I’m an art major, sort of, I can’t really decide what to…” he trails off, shrugging. “I might like to be a tattoo artist, you know? It seems so cool, the idea of inking something permanently onto someone’s skin.”
Yoongi nods along, it’s clear Jungkook is passionate about this, eyes brimming with color as he speaks. “That does sound cool, but like a lot of responsibility.”
“True,” Jungkook says with a smaller smile. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoongi?”
The moment between them is broken by a laugh from across the table, Jimin giggling into his hand while Taehyung snorts. “Yoongi would never,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” Jimin adds, still giggling. “It would hurt too much and Yoongi would never do something as permanent or spontaneous as getting a tattoo. Just the thought!” He dissolves into another round of giggles.
Yoongi can feel himself blushing, feeling a little ridiculous under the combined weight of his friends’ laughter. He can be spontaneous. He can do fun, adventurous things. Tattoos are just… Well, they are a big commitment.
“It doesn’t have to be spontaneous,” Jungkook says, voice gentle and soft. “They can be things you put a lot of thought into. Things that are really important to you.”
“Are yours like that?”
Jungkook nods. “Most of them, some were dumb impulses but… yeah, most are really special.” He points to a cluster on his forearm, letters etched into his skin.
Rather be dead than cool criss crossed with Make hay while the sun shines on his forearm. LIVE, etched on his knuckles.
“They’re reminders,” he explains, ducking his head to catch Yoongi’s eye. “They keep me going, like mantras on my skin.”
Yoongi studies the words, the bits of color mixed with the deep black ink. His arm is a riot of designs, beautiful and strangely elegant. “That’s -” He can’t seem to find the word for what it is. Cool doesn’t seem like enough. Amazing seems like too much. “I like that,” he says finally, “the deeper meaning.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. His hand slides across the table, nearly brushing Yoongi’s fingers where they rest on the tabletop. “That’s what I mean, tattoos can be so meaningful and personal. They’re important to me, something I always want to carry with me.”
Yoongi doesn’t have any tattoos, he has a fear of needles and doesn’t have anything important enough to ink permanently on his skin. But maybe someday, if he found something meaningful enough.
The waitress appears then and they order, Jungkook ordering a bunch of rolls and Jimin ordering an absurd amount of drinks. They fall into conversation once the waitress leaves, Jimin and Taehyung recounting how they met Jungkook and some of their adventures.
“Jungkook was so shy when we met him,” Jimin coos. “Look at him now, big confident muscle boy. So handsome with friends all over the world.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “I’m not,” he insists, “I just like to travel. It’s hard to sit still for a long time, you know?”
Yoongi does know. He knows how it can weigh you down, how it feels like you’ll never get out of a rut. But the difference, clearly, is that Jungkook isn’t in one, he’s moving and living life. Yoongi is stuck, inertia keeping him locked down.
“Jimin and Taehyung said you’ve been traveling this summer?” Yoongi prompts.
“Yeah!” Jungkook nods eagerly. “All over the US and I spent some time in Japan last month.” He grins. “I actually learned how to make sushi while I was there, not well, obviously, but it was fun!”
“That sounds amazing,” Yoongi breathes. He can almost imagine it, how it would feel to go on an adventure like that, to see the world, try new things. Almost, but not quite. The thought is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. It’s something Yoongi has always wanted to do, but he’s tethered to where he is, and content. Mostly. If the opportunity presented itself… would he even take it?
“I’m planning on traveling a while longer; some friends out west invited me to stay with them and I thought about maybe going to Mexico.”
“What about next semester?” Jimin asks. “Are you going back to school?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe. I’ve got another few weeks, you know, more to do. If I make my way back there then…” he shrugs.
“What would you do instead?” Taehyung questions.
Another shrug, a small smile accompanying it this time. “I don’t know. And maybe that’s the fun of it. The not knowing.”
Yoongi doesn’t think so, the uncertainty would eat him alive. But with the way Jungkook smiles, mischievous and wide, he thinks that maybe it doesn’t sound quite so bad.
He sits back, listening and watching as Jungkook talks about his travels. He’s animated, talking with his hands, eyes sparkling as he recounts his adventures. And they are adventures, that much is obvious. Jungkook seems to have no fear, nothing holding him back from diving head first into new things.
When the food arrives, Yoongi keeps listening, chewing absently as he keeps his eyes fixed on the side of Jungkook’s face. It’s probably weird, he’s sure Jimin and Taehyung notice, but Yoongi can’t seem to look away. Jungkook’s telling a story about spring break, his trip to the Caribbean with a group of friends.
“I came back with half the clothes I had when I got there, a sunburn and a new scar on my cheek,” Jungkook laughs. “We were camping on a cliff side near the water and I got a little fucked up. Somebody dared me to chug another beer and…”
“And what?” Taehyung prompts.
“Jump,” Jungkook says simply.
Yoongi blinks. “Jump?” he echoes.
“I took a running leap…” Jungkook begins, turning to Yoongi. “…and then jumped off a cliff into the ocean!” Jungkook finishes, grinning. “It was wild!”
“Shit,” Yoongi laughs, shaking his head. “I could never do something like that.”
Not if he was dared, not if he was paid. He’s not a very strong swimmer anyway, and he’s afraid of heights. And open water. And sharks. And anything that could lead to a painful, untimely death.
Jungkook studies him with sparkling eyes. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “I think you could surprise yourself.” He grins again and his tattooed fingers trail over Yoongi’s wrist. Yoongi barely suppresses a shiver at the feather light touch. “Maybe you don’t know what you can do.”
⋯
They’re loud. Jimin and Taehyung are always loud, but Jungkook seems to add a new element to their noise, increasing the volume and intensity. Yoongi trails behind them on the sidewalk as they walk to the club Jimin decided on. The three of them are laughing and nearly shouting together, arms all around each other as they head down the hill. In the center, Jungkook throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing off the buildings around them.
Yoongi feels separate at this moment, a voyeur looking in on a scene. There’s a strange feeling of not quite belonging as he follows them. Maybe Yoongi is too old for this, too tired, too boring. The charisma and passion the other three have does not extend to him. And that’s okay, he’s just different. He doesn’t necessarily feel excluded, he’s content to be on the sidelines and watch. But if he stopped walking now, just turned around and went home, would they even notice?
When they stop at a street corner, waiting for the light to change, Yoongi hangs back. They’re all wrapped around each other, curling in to giggle and lean together.
It’s fitting, maybe, an allegory for Yoongi’s life. Always being on the fringes, never able to step into the fray. Something could go wrong, something could –
“Yoongi!”
Blinking away his thoughts, Yoongi glances up. Jimin and Taehyung are now across the street, giggling on the opposite corner. But Jungkook remains, hands shoved in his pockets, watching Yoongi intently.
“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbles, stepping forward to join Jungkook on the corner. The light has changed again, cars whizzing past them.
“I didn’t want you to get left behind,” Jungkook says, giving Yoongi that blinding smile. He loops their arms together and Yoongi can feel the heat of Jungkook’s skin through the leather of his jacket, the fabric of his own shirt. He remembers the touch of Jungkook’s fingers on his wrist, soft, tentative, callused fingertips tracing his skin.
Yoongi licks his lips and nods. “Thanks.”
“Will you dance with me at the club?” Jungkook asks, leaning a little into Yoongi’s side.
While he might not be the most confident, or the best dancer, Yoongi does enjoy dancing. Especially with a few drinks in him. He’s barely buzzed from the cocktails at dinner, but he could get there from a few more drinks. “Alright, Kook.” The nickname rolls easily off his tongue and Jungkook beams.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says happily. “I’m a great dancer.”
Yoongi doesn’t doubt it. Those long legs and tiny waist, muscles Yoongi can see shifting beneath his clothes. And the pure joy and energy Jungkook seems to radiate. Even if he was a conventionally bad dancer, Yoongi thinks he’d probably still be good.
Across the street, Yoongi can make out Jimin and Taehyung through the spaces between speeding cars. They’re beneath the streetlight, huddled together, Taehyung’s head bowed to Jimin’s. Kissing, probably. Nothing new, the affection they always dote on each other, on everyone in their friend group. But together… it’s hard to pry them apart.
Glancing to the side, Yoongi finds Jungkook watching him. His eyes flash with every passing set of headlights but Yoongi can’t make out his expression. Watchful, open, thoughtful. He doesn’t know, he just knows that Jungkook is studying him like he is very interesting. Yoongi has the sudden urge to kiss him.
The light changes.
Jungkook blinks and smiles again, dropping Yoongi’s arm. “Ready?” he asks.
It doesn’t sound like he’s asking Yoongi if he’s ready to cross the street, it sounds like he’s asking something different. Something more. Yoongi nods wordlessly.
Another grin, a flash of white teeth and sparkling eyes. Jungkook grabs his hand, tangling their fingers together, and pulls Yoongi with him. Yoongi stumbles off the sidewalk, barely getting his feet under him as they move, jogging along, clinging to Jungkook’s hand as the crosswalk stretches beneath their feet. Jungkook glances back before they reach the other side, his smile wide and open, full of promises of adventure.
⋯
He’s not sure which of them opens the tab, but suddenly Yoongi is handed a drink and a shot glass is held to his lips. He opens and swallows on instinct, grimacing at the burn as it slides down his throat. There are hands on him, his friends touching him, tugging at him, drawing him toward the dancefloor.
Yoongi is privately glad he didn’t turn around and go home, glad he came to the club. He doesn’t want to admit it, obviously, because then Jimin and Taehyung will never leave him alone. But Jungkook’s fingers are curled around his wrist as he drags Yoongi to dance and Yoongi can’t imagine saying goodbye to him.
It’s hot and loud, music pounding through Yoongi’s skin, making his bones vibrate. But he throws himself into dancing, downing his last drink as the music swells around them. The four of them move together, hands brushing and bodies pressing and pulling apart. The strobing lights make it a little disorienting. Jimin spinning in front of him, Taehyung’s hand on his shoulder, Jungkook’s smile, all in stuttered flashes.
It's a mind-numbing rush of Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin and Taehyung and Jungkook. Jimin and Jungkook. Jimin and Taehyung. And Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook. Everything focusing down to Jungkook.
Yoongi closes his eyes, letting himself get lost in the beat, the press of bodies. He doesn’t care that strangers are touching him, that sweat is dripping into his eyes. Everything feels good, amazing, technicolor. When he opens his eyes again, Jimin and Taehyung have disappeared, melted away into the crowd. But there are hands on his hips, pressing into his skin through his sweaty shirt.
Jungkook. Jungkook and that binding smile, those heart stopping eyes. Another body pressed to his back. Maybe Jimin, maybe Taehyung, maybe a stranger. Yoongi's eyes close again and he lifts his arms over his head, swaying with the music. The hands on his hips squeeze once then fall away. Yoongi blinks his eyes open, Jimin and Taehyung are still gone. And Jungkook – Yoongi catches a flash of violet, Jungkook’s hair caught in the blink of a light, and then he disappears as well.
Dancing without his friends is much less appealing, the press of bodies suddenly suffocating. Pushing his way through the crowd, Yoongi makes his way to the bar, immediately ordering another drink when he reaches it.
The alcohol burns, fruit juice barely masking the taste as he gulps it down. He should get a water, probably, his head starting to spin a little. Before he can, the bartender is setting another cocktail in front of him.
"I didn't -"
The bartender just nods to Yoongi's right. "From him."
Yoongi expects one of his friends, but when he turns he comes face to face with a man he doesn't know. The man is already leaning into Yoongi’s space, giving him a smile that makes Yoongi want to recoil.
“Hey,” the man says, just loud enough to be heard above the music.
Taking a small step to the side, Yoongi picks up the drink. “Thanks for the drink.”
The man’s smile grows and he shuffles a little closer. Yoongi can smell him, sweat and cheap cologne, liquor on his breath. “You come here often?”
It’s impossible not to roll his eyes. “Not really,” Yoongi responds, crossing his free arm over his chest, trying to appear closed off. “Just here with friends.” Maybe if he mentions that he’s not alone, the guy will take the hint.
“Cool.” He steps even closer, inches away. “Wanna dance?”
“No thank you,” Yoongi says, clipped and even.
The man’s smile slips a little. “I bought you a drink,” he snaps. “Now you should dance with me.”
“Keep the drink,” Yoongi responds, setting the glass back on the bar.
A hand comes up, touching Yoongi’s arm, trailing down his sleeve. Yoongi tries not to shudder. “I saw you dancing, you’re pretty. Dance with me.” It doesn’t sound like a question.
Yoongi shakes his head and tries to step back. His way is blocked by a stool behind him. “I’m here with -”
An arm snakes around his waist, pulling him flush against a warm body. Yoongi’s head snaps to the side, mouth open to argue. But it’s Jungkook, Jungkook staring down at him in concern. “You good?” Yoongi nods and Jungkook turns to the man. “He doesn’t want to dance with you.”
Yoongi can’t help but melt into Jungkook’s side a little, curling into the touch. Jungkook squeezes his waist, holds him tighter. Yoongi loves the way Jungkook’s arm feels around him. He shouldn’t. Jungkook is still a few weeks from turning twenty-two, Yoongi feels like a dirty old man, nearly twenty-nine.
“I saw him first,” the man huffs.
Jungkook just gives the man a smug smile. “He’s with me,” he says easily. “Right, babe?” The last is addressed to Yoongi.
Something like an electric shock goes through him at the babe from Jungkook’s lips. But he nods, eyes fixed on Jungkook, not even looking at the other man. “Right,” he breathes, not even sure Jungkook can hear him.
But the answering smile says he does. Jungkook doesn’t look at the man either, their eyes stay glued together. “Shots?” Jungkook asks.
Yoongi nods and Jungkook turns them, keeping his arm around Yoongi’s waist as he orders them shots. It’s sweet, barely burning as Yoongi throws it back. “Thank you,” he says, when he regains the ability to speak normally.
Jungkook smiles, setting his shot glass back on the bar. “That guy seemed like a creep. But now… dance with me? You promised you would.”
“We already danced together,” Yoongi says, unsure why he’s arguing.
The smile only grows, Jungkook slipping away from him to back toward the dance floor, grabbing Yoongi’s hand to tow him along. “That didn’t count, Jimin and Tae were there. Dance with me.”
Yoongi knows he could say no, could tell Jungkook he wants to go home, that he doesn’t want to dance with him. But he’d be lying, and Jungkook would know. So he lets himself be led back into the press of bodies, eyes fixed on the man in front of him, the shift of Jungkook’s back muscles beneath his shirt, as they get lost in the crowd.
⋯
It’s hot, loud, electric. Everything feels heightened, the beat making Yoongi’s head spin, his entire body pulse. Maybe it’s not just the music, the alcohol is definitely having an effect. Yoongi feels light and loose, body moving easily. But it’s more than that, more than either of those things. Yoongi can’t lie, he knows what it is. It’s the hands on his body, one on his hip, the other splayed across his stomach.
Jungkook’s hands, strong and firm, holding Yoongi against his chest as they move together. Their bodies are so close, hips swiveling together to the music, Yoongi’s back plastered to Jungkook’s front. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be so close. It should be just friendly, two new friends dancing. And Yoongi can almost pretend it is, almost.
If not for the breath ghosting over his neck, the hands holding him so possessively. Jungkook’s hair tickles his ear and when Yoongi throws his head back, leaning it against Jungkook’s shoulder, he feels the other man’s nose trace along his neck. It feels so intimate. Jungkook’s hand on his stomach pulls him closer, his thumb slipping between the buttons of Yoongi’s shirt. Skin on skin, a curl of fire, Yoongi thinks he gasps.
Move. Move. Move.
He does, finally, forcing himself forward, detaching himself from Jungkook’s grip. He feels instantly cold, despite the heat, the press of bodies. A mistake, maybe. He wants.
Yoongi spins, coming face to face with a grinning Jungkook. This is the opportunity to put space between them, to just dance together without touching. But Jungkook’s arms snake out and grab his hips again, pulling him in. Yoongi doesn’t want him to stop. He wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck and presses in, breath hitching when Jungkook slots a thigh between his legs.
They move to the music, grinding together, pressed so close that Yoongi can feel Jungkook’s breath fan across his face. Maybe it’s the alcohol going to his head, but Yoongi can’t look away. It’s Jungkook’s eyes again, locking him in, laser focused on Yoongi as if they’re alone, as if he’s all that matters. They sparkle in the lights, reflecting all the colors of the spotlights and strobes, flashing off Jungkook’s smile.
When Jungkook leans in to kiss him, Yoongi doesn’t stop him.
Somewhere, in a back corner of his mind, there’s a voice screaming that this is a mistake. Screaming that he shouldn’t be doing this, he’s seven years older and they’re drunk. But Yoongi knows he’s not drunk enough to use it as an excuse for slipping his tongue into Jungkook’s mouth.
Yoongi lets Jungkook hold him close, hands splayed across his back, crushing him to his chest, and kiss him. His own hands cradle Jungkook’s head, one on his cheek, the other tangled in his hair. Closer, closer, as if they could meld together. Their lips slide together, wet and hot and sweet, tasting like fire and cherry candy. Jungkook grinds against him, that leg still pressed between Yoongi’s own, and takes him apart.
It’s messy, heated, swirls of their tongues together as their lips push and pull, press together. Teeth nip at Yoongi’s bottom lip and he gasps at the sting, Jungkook’s tongue darting to lick over it a second later. Yoongi sucks on Jungkook’s tongue, hand buried in silky purple hair to hold him closer, tilt his head for a better angle. The hands on his back slide beneath his shirt, Jungkook’s palms hot against the small of his back. Yoongi arches into the touch, wants to keen, to scream, to rip Jungkook’s shirt off and bury himself against him.
He can’t get enough air, his heart pounding in his ears to the beat of the music. But Yoongi doesn’t care, not with the way Jungkook is holding him, not with how he kisses him breathless. Yoongi isn’t sure he’s ever been kissed like this, so passionately, so fully, as if Jungkook would die without it. Maybe Yoongi would too, it definitely feels that way.
Heat burns inside him, building and building as Jungkook smiles into the kiss, tugs at his lip, pulls him impossibly closer. Yoongi feels like he might explode, his body bursting into strobes of light, the same colors as Jungkook’s perfect eyes. He’s beginning to press into Jungkook’s leg, grind almost imperceptibly against his thigh, when a body collides with his own.
The kiss parts on a gasp, Yoongi stumbling to the side. Only Jungkook’s hands on him keep Yoongi from falling to the floor. His own hands fall to Jungkook’s biceps, squeezing into firm muscle to keep himself upright. Their eyes meet again, Jungkook’s dark and hooded, pupils blown, a thousand stars bursting in the inky depths. His lips are slick and swollen, pink as berries, Yoongi wants to dive back into them.
A hand on his arm, tugging. Yoongi turns, finds Jimin beside him, staring at him knowingly. Yoongi stumbles back, arms falling from Jungkook’s body. Jungkook’s own hands slip away and Yoongi feels a little lost. Jimin cocks his head toward the bar and Yoongi nods, redirecting his gaze to his feet, feeling his cheeks burning. This isn’t him, he doesn’t do things like this. He hasn’t in years, and even years ago it wasn’t like this. Not with a virtual stranger, a random college student he just met. He’s so fucked.
“Let’s get out of here,” Taehyung half screams into Yoongi’s ear once they’re out of the crowd.
Yoongi nods, hugging his arms around himself as they make their way to the exit and step out of the club. He tries not to look at Jungkook, ripping his eyes away from him shrugging on his leather jacket, muscles taut. Or the way his purple hair is pushed back from his forehead, the way his lips look even more kiss bitten in the glow of the lights outside the club.
So, so fucked.
It’s so much quieter outside, only a dull rumble from the music back inside. Yoongi suddenly feels too sober and too old.
“Our place?” Taehyung suggests.
His friends are staring at him and Yoongi clears his throat, runs a hand through his damp hair. “I think I’m gonna, uh, go.”
“No, no,” Jimin says, grinning at him. “You have to come with us.”
“I don’t -”
Jungkook steps closer, giving him a small smile. “Stay?”
Yoongi opens his mouth to say he can’t, that he needs to go home. But what comes out is a croaked okay. Jungkook’s smile flashing, those eyes exploding with stars, and Yoongi curses himself.
⋯
Taehyung orders a car that, thankfully, appears almost immediately. Jungkook hovers close to Yoongi on the sidewalk, but he doesn’t try to touch him. Yoongi doesn’t know if he wants Jungkook to touch him or not.
You do, his mind insists. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe deeply, calm himself down.
When the car pulls up, Yoongi opens the passenger side door to slip inside. Jimin grabs him, slamming the door and shoving him into the backseat. He huffs as Jimin and Taehyung slide in next to him, crushing him against the far door.
“What are you -” he cuts off when the door beside him opens and he nearly falls out. He blinks up at Jungkook, illuminated by the dome light. “The front is -”
Jimin elbows him and Yoongi closes his mouth. A moment later he has a lap full of Jungkook, sitting crosswise firmly atop Yoongi’s thighs. Yoongi fights down a scream as Jungkook leans into his chest, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Jungkook looks at him, giving him a small smile, before he’s pulled into Jimin’s chatter.
Jungkook doesn’t try to kiss him again, but he stays close as he talks to Jimin. Yoongi keeps a hand pressed to Jungkook’s lower back to steady him but otherwise tries not to touch him. He tries to keep his gaze fixed out the window, but his eyes keep straying back to Jungkook’s face. He’s beautiful in profile, the curve of his jaw and slope of his nose. Long lashes and the glint of his eyebrow piercing in passing headlights. When Jungkook glances over and their eyes meet, Yoongi startles a little, caught staring. But Jungkook only blinks once, smiles lightly, and turns back to Jimin without a word.
⋯
It devolves quickly; as soon as they’re in Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment more alcohol is pulled out, weed produced from somewhere beneath the coffee table. A bottle of wine is shoved into Yoongi’s hands, tipped up so he has to swallow. When it’s pulled away, he stands frozen in the center of the room, watching as his three friends squeeze onto the loveseat.
Sinking onto the sofa across the room, Yoongi wipes his clammy palms on his thighs. Jimin’s hands are already busy rolling a joint, bringing the paper to his lips to lick the adhesive. It’s another strange moment, where Yoongi watches the three of them giggle together, take pulls off the wine and fall all over each other. An outsider again, that strange feeling of not belonging, being just an accessory.
“Yoonie,” Jimin calls, “why are you so far away?”
Maybe not forgotten. Jimin is grinning at him, eyes sly. “There’s no room,” he says lamely.
“We can make room,” Taehyung purrs. “Come sit with us.”
Yoongi licks his lips, eyes scanning the three of them. “I’m good over here.”
Jimin rolls his eyes but doesn’t push further, bringing the joint to his lips. A click and a flame bursts to light as Taehyung lifts a lighter to the end of the joint. Eyes falling closed, Jimin inhales and leans backwards into the couch, a smile on his lips as he pulls the joint away. When his eyes open again, a little hazy, they’re fixed right on Yoongi. Smoke curls from the corners of Jimin’s lips and he gives Yoongi a sly smirk before turning to the side and grabbing Taehyung’s neck, pulling him in.
Their lips meet, Jimin exhaling the smoke into Taehyung’s mouth, tongues meeting in a sloppy kiss for a moment before Jimin pulls back. Jungkook takes the joint, inhaling deeply. His eyes meet Yoongi’s too, before Jimin is grabbing him and fitting their lips together.
“Want some, Yoongi?” Taehyung asks from over their heads, their lips still locked. Maybe they’re just shotgunning, but Yoongi doesn’t think so. He can see the slide of tongue, the movement of lips. When they pull back, their lips are slick.
“I -” he shakes his head, feeling a little lost for words. “No thanks.”
“You sure, Yoon?” Jimin asks, eyes hooded. He licks his lips and Yoongi follows the movement. Yoongi has kissed Jimin before, Taehyung too, he remembers the way their lips felt.
“I’m good,” he croaks, shifting on the couch.
He feels like he’s watching everything in slow motion, taking shaky sips off another bottle of wine. Across from him, the three other men are all over each other. Yoongi can’t tell whose hands are where as they smoke and drink, lips all pressing together as they shotgun. There’s a tightness in Yoongi’s pants that’s starting to get embarrassing, but how can he help it? Three gorgeous men are practically making out across from him, hands sliding over one another’s bodies.
Yoongi startles, eyes ripping away from where Jimin’s hand is dangerously close to Taehyung’s zipper, at the sound of a voice.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Jungkook, sweet and soft. But there’s a low rasp underneath, a raw quality that has Yoongi suppressing a shiver.
“It’s been years,” Yoongi admits. “I probably don’t even remember how to…” he trails off.
Jungkook grins, slow and lazy, before peeling himself off the couch. “Let me help.” Grabbing the joint from Taehyung, Jungkook takes a hit, eyes fluttering closed. When he opens them, his eyes are dark, fixed on Yoongi.
He crosses the room like a tiger stalking prey. He’s all long, lean lines, sinuous hips, bright eyes that don’t leave Yoongi’s face. Yoongi isn’t sure he’s breathing, isn’t sure he remembers how to breathe. Heart lodged in his throat, Yoongi tries to swallow.
Then Jungkook is in front of him, climbing into Yoongi’s lap and draping his arms around Yoongi’s neck, careful not to burn him with the joint. It’s different than in the car, much more intimate with Jungkook facing him, his thighs bracketing Yoongi’s own. Yoongi’s hands come up automatically, cradling his tiny waist as Jungkook leans in.
There’s a moment where Jungkook searches his face and begins to lean toward him, giving Yoongi an out. He could say no, he could shake his head and Jungkook would get up, let him go. Yoongi doesn’t want to let go, he wants the tiger to catch him. He parts his lips and Jungkook closes the distance, fitting his mouth over Yoongi’s.
Smoke fills his mouth and Yoongi inhales, breathing it into his lungs, his head immediately feeling fuzzy and full. Their lips slide together, soft and gentle, not like the heated kisses in the club.
“Got enough?” Jungkook asks when he pulls back, staring down at Yoongi with parted pink lips.
Yoongi is sitting there frozen, he knows he must look dumb, his mouth open and eyes wide. He shakes his head no, hands tightening on Jungkook’s hips.
Jungkook leans in to kiss him again.
Fireworks explode in Yoongi’s brain. The weed shouldn’t be going to his head so quickly but suddenly everything feels like it’s moving too fast, or maybe too slow. Jungkook’s lips are soft and a little swollen, sweet with red wine. When he parts Yoongi’s lips with his tongue, Yoongi whimpers. Jungkook licks into his mouth so slowly, sensual curls of his tongue that Yoongi tries to meet, to chase after. There’s a soft hum, Jungkook smiling slightly against his mouth as he nips at Yoongi’s lips before darting in to press his tongue further past Yoongi’s teeth.
Yoongi’s fingers curl more tightly around Jungkook’s hips, bunching the fabric of his shirt. He feels like he needs to hold onto something, desperate for a lifeline to ground him. Suddenly he is unmoored, confronted with something completely unexpected that he’s not entirely sure how to navigate. A man he just met a few hours ago is in his lap, kissing him silly and grinding onto his –
Oh god. Jungkook is grinding down onto his lap and Yoongi is so hard in the tight confines of his pants. There’s no way Jungkook can’t feel it pressed against his ass. And Yoongi can’t help the tiny movements his own hips are making, chasing for friction, for pleasure.
He jumps, pulling back from the kiss with a gasp when he feels a hand sliding up his arm. Turning his head, Yoongi sees Jimin kneeling on the couch beside him. On his other side, Taehyung is lounging against the armrest, eyes fixed on Yoongi and Jungkook.
“I -” Yoongi begins.
“You’re hogging the joint,” Jimin purrs, plucking it from Jungkook’s fingers and bringing it to his own lips.
Yoongi blinks, trying to clear his head. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Jungkook is being pulled off his lap. It feels like Yoongi’s moving in slow motion again, head turning so slowly. The slick sound of lips reaches him before his eyes make sense of what he’s seeing. Jungkook is on Taehyung’s lap now, Taehyung with a hand fisted in Jungkook’s hair, their lips locked together. Their tongues are moving, pink and wet, between their mouths, hands roaming. They’re giggling into the kiss, Taehyung opening his eyes to meet Yoongi’s, give him a wink.
A hand on Yoongi’s jaw has him turning back around, coming face to face with Jimin. The joint is pressed between Yoongi’s lips and he inhales on instinct, breathing the smoke into his lungs.
“There you go,” Jimin coos, stroking Yoongi’s cheek fondly.
Exhaling with a cough, Yoongi tries to focus on what’s happening. “Jimin, what…” he trails off, not even sure what to ask.
Jimin smiles gently, an angel in front of him. “You okay, Yoongi?” His voice is honey sweet, fingertips stroking Yoongi’s cheekbone, his jawline. “Okay?” he repeats.
Yoongi finds himself nodding, Jimin’s fingers sliding over his skin. He feels tingly and warm all over and Jimin looks so pretty, his lips look so soft. Maybe he could –
He jerks his head back around when a weight lands on his thighs again, Jungkook crawling back into his lap to curl around him. But he’s not alone, Taehyung follows him, draping himself over both of them to connect his lips to Jungkook’s again. Yoongi has the perfect view this way, their mouths sliding together, Taehyung’s hand creeping beneath Jungkook’s shirt.
A hand in his hair turns his head again, Jimin is there, watching him. Lips press against his, so soft and plush. Jimin. He remembers kissing Jimin before, but it didn’t feel like this. Like fire and electricity and his entire body feels like it’s vibrating. It’s weird, kissing Jimin again, kissing him with Jungkook right here, kissing Taehyung. But Yoongi’s not complaining, not when it feels so good.
Yoongi has hooked up with Jimin and Taehyung before, most of their friend group has. He’s made out with them at clubs and parties, found himself in their bed more than once. Enjoyable, definitely, though Yoongi knows Jimin and Taehyung are very particular about how things go, often getting too lost in each other to completely entertain a third person. But this is different, four of them, hands and mouths and bodies together. It’s been a while since Yoongi has hooked up with Jimin and Taehyung, a while since he’s been with anyone at all. But his blood is singing, burning like lava in his veins, and he doesn’t want the kiss to stop.
“Did you lace this with something?” Taehyung slurs, voice so deep and low Yoongi has a hard time making out his words.
“Nah,” Jimin giggles against Yoongi’s lips, tugging at him to tilt his head and mouth at his jaw. “S’just good shit, right?” he laughs.
Yoongi nods, even though he knows Jimin isn’t talking to him.
They’re all tangled together now, Yoongi feeling boneless and half formed. They slide to the floor in a pile of limbs, Jimin gripping Yoongi by the hair again, looking him in the eyes.
“Yoongi,” he whispers, voice clear, eyes intense, “is this okay?”
Yoongi’s head bobs quickly in assent, nodding eagerly, too eagerly. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but he doesn’t want it to end.
“Good boy,” Jimin purrs. His hand tightens in Yoongi’s hair and he drags him back in, swallowing Yoongi whole.
⋯
When Yoongi opens his eyes again, they’re in the guest room. Maybe he’s lost a few minutes, seconds, though they come back to him in stop motion. Jimin unbuttoning his shirt as Jungkook latched onto his neck. Taehyung tugging off his pants and shoving his tongue into Yoongi’s mouth. A stumbling, groping mess, as they made their way to the guest room, toppled onto the bed.
They’re all naked, Yoongi on his back with Taehyung between his legs. He can tell by the tangle of dark curls he can see hovering over his groin, the way Taehyung’s tongue traces the underside of his cock. It feels amazing, Yoongi’s toes curling as Taehyung sucks and licks along his length, two fingers circling Yoongi’s hole, teasing and stroking. Jimin is at his chest, nipping and licking at one of Yoongi’s nipples, making Yoongi’s chest heave and his back arch with every tug.
Yoongi is floating on a cloud of marijuana and alcohol, entire body bursting with light and pleasure. It roars through him, making Yoongi want to scream. But he can’t, not with Jungkook above him. Long hair hanging down to frame his face, hovering over Yoongi with those sparkling eyes. Jungkook’s hands sweeping over his body, Jungkook dipping down to connect their lips.
All he can focus on is Jungkook. As his body is touched and kissed and stimulated, everything narrows down to Jungkook. Jungkook’s hands, lips, tongue. If Jungkook stops touching him he’ll scream, if Jungkook stops kissing him he’ll die.
Time seems to move in fits and starts, bodies migrating around the bed to tangle and roll together. Mouths against his own, kissing and licking, his mouth and hands on chests and stomachs, Jimin’s cock spreading his lips wide, Taehyung’s fingers in his ass. But still, Jungkook, always Jungkook. As they all grind and move together, he and Jungkook gravitate to each other, hands pulling one another closer to meld together. Yoongi can focus on nothing else, can see nothing but Jungkook’s swollen lips and miles of honey tan skin etched with dark ink.
Yoongi barely notices when Jimin and Taehyung disappear. Suddenly it’s just Yoongi and Jungkook, sprawled on the bed together. Jungkook cages Yoongi beneath him, nibbling at his lips and delving deeper into his mouth as he fucks three fingers into him. A high whimpering fills the room, one Yoongi belatedly realizes is coming from him.
“I’ve got you,” Jungkook murmurs, stroking those long fingers over Yoongi’s prostate to hear him whine again. “You’re so pretty, look at you.”
Tangling his fingers in Jungkook’s hair, Yoongi drags him into another kiss, sucking on his tongue as his toes curl and his groin coils tight. He nearly cries when Jungkook pulls his fingers out of him, clutching at Jungkook’s shoulders.
“More,” Yoongi pants, arching his back to try to reach Jungkook, press their chests together. His cock is throbbing, leaking against his belly, his hole clenching around nothing.
“Gonna give it to you,” Jungkook rasps, climbing off Yoongi to flip him onto his stomach. “Make you feel so good.”
“Please,” Yoongi whines, curling his fingers into the rumpled sheets as Jungkook lifts him onto his knees.
The press of Jungkook’s cock at Yoongi’s entrance has him arching, presenting himself like a bitch in heat. He doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed, not when his entire body is burning with want, with need. Jungkook is big, sliding into Yoongi in one smooth thrust, sinking himself so deep.
Yoongi keens, nails digging into the sheets and burying his face against the mattress. He feels stretched open, Jungkook’s cock so deep inside him that Yoongi can feel it in his chest. Jungkook grinds deeper into him, pulling a broken moan from Yoongi’s kiss swollen lips.
The first roll of Jungkook’s hips has tears springing to Yoongi’s eyes, his spine bowing. Slow and deep, sticky sweet rolls of Jungkook’s hips sending him deeper and deeper, carving a place for himself inside Yoongi’s body. Their skin slaps together and Yoongi tries to press back, meet his thrusts, but Jungkook holds him still with a hand on his hip. All Yoongi can do is take it, whimpering as the slow drag of Jungkook’s cock inside him has him seeing stars.
“You’re so fucking…” Jungkook trails off, draping himself over Yoongi’s back. His free hand fists in Yoongi’s hair, dragging his head up and out of the blankets. Lips press to his neck, teeth dragging along his skin as Jungkook keeps fucking into him.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he rasps, breath hot and wet against Yoongi’s ear. “Knew I wanted you when I saw you. You’re perfect, beautiful.” Each word accompanied with a thrust that jostles Yoongi up the bed. “Amazing,” he groans, grinding his cock in deep. “Wanna make you mine.”
Yoongi wants to tell him he can. Anything, anything for this moment to never end. For Jungkook to make him feel this good, for him to continue this litany of praise into his ear. The hand in his hair turns his head to the side almost gently. Their lips meet in a kiss that’s softer than any they’ve shared so far, and Yoongi tumbles over the edge.
They fall asleep an indeterminable amount of time later, tangled together in the sweaty sheets. They’re covered in cum, sweat, and lube, sticky and gross. But Yoongi doesn’t care, not when Jungkook is holding him against his chest, lips pressed to Yoongi’s hair.
⋯
Yoongi wakes to lips around his cock, Jungkook’s fingers curled around Yoongi’s thighs as he swallows him down. He comes embarrassingly fast and then eagerly returns the favor, Jungkook’s cock making his jaw ache.
They sprawl together after, sweaty and sticky, curled among the twisted sheets. “Hey,” Jungkook says softly, hand stroking up and down Yoongi’s bare back.
“Hey,” Yoongi echoes, nuzzled close to Jungkook’s chest. Their legs are tangled together beneath the blankets, bodies still intertwined. He feels a little like he should leave, whatever craziness from the night before is now over. But as Jungkook lights a joint he seemingly pulls from nowhere and fits their lips together to exhale into Yoongi’s mouth, all thoughts of leaving vanish.
Time passes in a haze of smoke clouds, alcohol that seems to materialize from nowhere, and Jungkook. The shitty bed in Jimin and Taehyung’s guest room makes Yoongi’s back ache. Or maybe that’s the many rounds of sex. Yoongi feels as though he’s been twisted like a pretzel, aching deliciously all over, the two of them a mess, covered in bites and bruises, sticky with any number of fluids.
Yoongi doesn’t know what time it is, or really even what day it is. He has no idea how much time has passed on how long he’s been in this room, letting Jungkook take him apart. Yoongi’s ass is sore from who knows how many rounds, he’s sure Jungkook’s must be too, the two of them switching and fucking over every surface in the room. And his cock feels like it’s close to chafing, entire body burning with overuse.
It hasn’t all been sex. Between rounds, when they’re catching their breath or too sore to continue for the moment, they talk. It’s weird, or it should be weird, holed up in this room in an apartment that isn’t even his with a man he barely knows. But the more they talk, the more Yoongi wants to know him.
Between soft kisses they share stories, talk about their lives. Jungkook is somehow so easy to talk to, so easy to open up to. And he's sweet, attentive, curious about everything Yoongi will share. Yoongi can’t do this, he can’t fall for someone who is seven years younger than himself. Someone who is only in town for a weekend and who will probably never return. Yoongi cannot let himself get wrapped up in Jungkook Jeon and his bright eyes and toothy smile.
But he’s already captured, ensnared and sucked in. Hopeless, really, for him to think he wouldn’t be entranced from the moment he saw the other man.
Yoongi doesn’t do this. He doesn’t do anything like this. He never has. One night stands with strangers, drug and alcohol fueled marathon sex sessions with a man more than half a decade younger than him? Absolutely not. Yoongi is logical and so cautious he won’t cross the street without a crossing symbol even with no cars around.
There’s no reason for Jungkook to be into him, not someone like Yoongi. And there’s no reason for Yoongi to do this. But Yoongi can’t stop, can’t get enough. He’s drawn to Jungkook, drowning in his eyes. Yoongi doesn’t want to stop touching Jungkook, doesn’t want Jungkook to stop touching him. Even with how sore he is, Yoongi needs him close.
And the soreness doesn’t matter right now, not when Jungkook is holding Yoongi tight to his chest, rolling his hips to fuck slowly into him. They’re curled on their sides, Yoongi’s back to Jungkook’s chest, pleasure roaring through Yoongi’s body like a living dream. He cries when he comes dry, body feeling used up, but so perfectly sated.
⋯
“I’m an art student,” Jungkook whispers. “Visual art, mostly. Photography sometimes.”
They’re curled together again, arms and legs intertwined, chests pressing, foreheads leaning together on the pillow. Jungkook’s breath fans across his face, sweet from the wine they’ve still been drinking, with a sharp edge from the weed.
“Do you like it?” Yoongi whispers back.
Jungkook smiles then, something self-deprecating and shy. “No,” he admits. “I hate school, I just… I love creating things.”
“You should do that then.” Which is not a thing Yoongi would normally say. He’d tell Jungkook to finish his degree, get a good job, make time for his passions outside of that. Which is what Yoongi does, or did, or… tried to do. He never really… found time for the things he’s passionate about, barely even remembers what they were.
“I don’t know how,” Jungkook confides. “I don’t know what I want to do, I just… I don’t want to be stuck. I want to live, Yoongi.”
Sometimes Yoongi feels like he’s barely doing that. “I want that too,” Yoongi admits. Because he does, so badly. Even when he’s standing still he wants to run. Every moment he spends hiding is another moment he wishes he could do anything else. But he can’t, and he’s made his peace with that.
Maybe.
“What do you do?” Jungkook asks, nudging their noses together.
Yoongi’s eyes slip closed and he tilts his head, brushing their lips together gently. “I’m a photojournalist.”
“That’s amazing,” Jungkook breathes, hands tightening around Yoongi’s body. “You must get to do many interesting things, see so much.”
If only. That was the goal. When Yoongi was young and he felt like he could do anything. It didn’t last long, the feeling of invincibility. “No, I… it’s just around here, really. Local stuff, nothing… nothing big.”
Jungkook studies him. “You should be doing something big. You’re so…” he trails off, frowning as if he doesn’t know how to put it into words.
“I wanted to,” Yoongi whispers, fingers curling against Jungkook’s chest. “I wanted to be a travel photographer, go all over the world, see everything. I wanted to make sushi in Japan and jump off cliffs and…” he trails off, feeling ridiculous.
“Why don’t you?” Jungkook asks, looking at him so earnestly that Yoongi feels like maybe he almost could do those things.
“I -” he doesn’t know how to answer. “I can’t, I’m not – I can’t.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue, pulling Yoongi even closer, their bodies sliding together. “I think you could do anything you want to do,” Jungkook murmurs, nosing at Yoongi’s cheek. “I don’t think you should tell yourself what you can’t do.”
It’s not that easy, but Jungkook makes it feel easy, makes him feel a little brave. “I want to,” he confesses. With you, he almost adds.
The smile Jungkook gives him is a little sad, his hand sliding up Yoongi’s side to cup his cheek. “I think you’re amazing,” he whispers, their lips brushing softly.
Yoongi laughs, shaking his head. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you,” Jungkook insists.
Before Yoongi can respond, the bedroom door flies open. Yoongi shrieks, curling more firmly into Jungkook’s chest to try to hide his naked body from view.
“Nothing we haven’t seen before, darling,” Jimin crows, tossing a bag on the bed.
“Bagels and iced coffee,” Taehyung announces, sliding a tray of coffees across the floor. “Hydrate and eat up, you seem to have burned a lot of energy.”
Jungkook laughs, pulling Yoongi more firmly into his arms as he groans.
“You two can have the guest room as long as you want,” Jimin declares. “Have fun, don’t worry about the noise, we’re enjoying the show.”
Yoongi groans again as the door closes, rolling onto his back and burying his face in his hands. “I hate them,” he huffs, rubbing at his eyes.
Jungkook just laughs, body shaking against Yoongi’s side. “At least they brought us food.”
“Want any?” Yoongi asks, peeling his hands away from his face to glance around for the bag of bagels.
“Nah.” Jungkook grins and shifts, climbing on top of Yoongi to straddle his thighs. “I’m hungry for something else.”
Yoongi’s never gotten hard so fast in his life. Jungkook slides over him easily, impaling himself on Yoongi’s cock and riding him hard into the mattress. Yoongi grips Jungkook’s hips, unable to take his eyes off the other man. Jungkook rolling his hips, head thrown back to show the long curve of his throat, beautiful and perfect and more real than anything Yoongi has ever seen.