Archive of Our Own

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On his work days, Yoongi would wake up at 6am, or 6:30am if he’s feeling especially defeated that morning.

After washing up, he’d make instant coffee for two. It’s a new flavor today, but the same brand they’ve been having for the past five years. It’s bitter and flat despite the packaging branding it as ‘sweet and creamy’, but it doesn’t really matter. He always makes sure to top the other mug off with sugar.

It takes a 40-minute drive to his company where his shift starts at 8am. The office walls are either made of clear glass or a dull gray, bleeding all the way to the elevator. There’s a poster advertising game night from a month ago and a maintenance notice of some water leak in the break room.

His state in that first hour of work can range from decent to unsightly, depending on if he wanted to be responsible and sleep at a reasonable time the night before. He powers on his computer as other workers begin to sluggishly filter in. Because of the nature of their work, the lights are never on in the office; it feels hopelessly lifeless most of the time, but sometimes this dull silence is good for concentrating.

“Yoongi!”

Yoongi knows that tone of voice too well, and the volume is so jarring that it makes him jolt. “Seokjin-ssi,” he greets.

“Jin hyung is fine,” Seokjin says, not for the first time. “Why the long face? I thought you'd be ecstatic right now.”

“Ah, yes.” Yoongi nods. “I’m happy. Just a little worn out.”

Seokjin waggles his eyebrows at that, but suddenly hands him something. “Here.”

Yoongi confusedly accepts the white envelope extended towards him. “...What is this?”

“You know exactly what it is,” Seokjin says teasingly, patting him on the shoulder when Yoongi opens the envelope to find money. “I’ll be honest, I can’t help but feel a little hurt that I didn’t get an invite but still.”

Ah. It clicks then. “We didn’t really have a proper gathering,” Yoongi tells him, averting his gaze.

“I’ll believe you for my own sake.” Seokjin smiles. “I’m super stoked for you though. What’s your wife like? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned her.”

Wife?

—Kim Seokjin has been talking to him for months but still somehow thinks he’d be with a woman?

Yoongi clears his throat. “He works in the creative department at an advertising company. We met in university.”

That catches Seokjin off-guard, ears red and eyes going wide as he stammers out an apology. “Oh, you’re—ah, that’s great! Of course. I had an inkling but- not like a stereotype or anything. Sorry. Just…” he trails off after the jumbled up mess of words. “The gift,” he quickly switches back. “Use it well.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi quickly moves on too, genuinely not expecting this kind of gesture from a co-worker. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course I do!” Seokjin chirps, finally straightening up and turning away from his desk. “Congratulations on your marriage!”

That gets a handful of head turns throughout the office, and whatever little word-of-mouth thing about Yoongi getting married that was being quietly passed along has been blasted through speakers in the blink of an eye.

Min Yoongi has committed a quiet crime with a trusted accomplice, though the journey to pull off such a heist hasn’t been so conventional.

He had been planning to propose to his roommate. There was no one better than him; he always cleaned up after himself, always paid his share of the rent on time, and diligently did his part of the chores. It also helped that he liked Yoongi’s cooking.

He was perfect, though a little difficult to convince.

“Marriage fraud? Seriously?”

“Listen,” Yoongi tried to maintain his patience through what feels like his fifteenth time explaining the concept. “I’ve seen it happen multiple times from different people. For one, a handful of those older higher-ups get to finish up at 4pm because they have wives and kids. And– and,” he quickly continued before he could get interrupted. “If that doesn’t convince you, my co-worker, same rank and everything, gets paid way more even though we work the same hours, all because he’s married!”

“No, yeah, I get that, but hyung…” his husband-to-be sighed. “We’re still gonna get married. That’s the thing.”

“And?” Yoongi realized far too belatedly that he sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t back down at that point. “The only thing that would change is the both of us being significantly less poor and a lot more comfortable. Unless you want me to propose.” He took his hand. “Jung Hoseok–”

“No, no!” Hoseok screeched, jerking his hand away. “I get why you want this, I do.” He rubbed the back of his ear nervously. “But don’t you have any…long-term aspirations?”

“Such as?”

“Marrying someone you’d actually spend the rest of your life with?”

“Can’t it be you?”

“Wha–” he choked. “Are you in love with me?”

“Not really, no. Do I have to be?” Yoongi frowned, then rolled his eyes at the idea as it marinated in his head. “Marrying for love is a dumb idea anyway. If you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, just do that. If you want kids, just do that. What’s the point in signing a paper to bind it? A lot of marriages end in divorce anyway. How do you even love someone for that long?”

“You’re very depressing to talk to sometimes,” Hoseok said dryly but sighed. “Fine, you can have that one because I’m feeling generous, but still, it’s not right.”

“Oh, we won’t get caught,” Yoongi quickly assured him. “I’ve checked. We don’t have to prove anything we don’t already have, and we already have a shared apartment.”

“But that’s not–” Hoseok panicked, “...we’re ripping off people!”

“Who? The government?” Yoongi rebutted. “Yeah, we are.”

Hoseok was left wordless, paused, and closed his eyes. “You’re getting a little too good at winning arguments.”

Yoongi smiled, hopeful now that things were appearing to go his way. “Well, it helps that I’m right.”

Hoseok snorted at that, lying back on the couch. “I mean, I’ll think about it. I’ve just never done anything like this before.”

“Me neither,” Yoongi murmured. “It’s worth a try.”

He stepped closer to Hoseok, reaching out, but retracted his hand before it even so much as grazed him. “Talk to me when you’re ready?”

Hoseok looked at him, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Of course, hyung.”

In his mind, Yoongi and his roommate live the most average life possible for two young adults living in the city. They met each other at a cheap dorm in their first year of university and have been sharing an apartment since their second year, which has continued to them now, three years into their office jobs.

Though they’re in different companies and different departments, these jobs are a bland nine-to-five, five-days-a-week ordeal, except Hoseok’s company sometimes likes to really push it with emergency meetings any time they feel like it, at any hour of the day.

Yoongi has seen the many states of Jung Hoseok over the years. He was there on Hoseok’s first day in Seoul, fresh-faced and still trying to develop the last bit of his identity. Maybe what they bonded over the most was how…indifferent they felt towards their career choices. They were all quite conventional, but most importantly: safe. You can’t go wrong with an office job; same routine, steady income, fixed work hours. It has just about all the basics to survive.

With all that said though, it still fucking sucks.

Yoongi has been annoyed by things he wouldn’t have ever expected to be annoyed by—workplace lingo, water break small talk, someone eating hot food at their desk for lunch. These problems seem miniscule compared to Hoseok however, who had to start with an awful intern runner job serving coffee, making copies and cleaning up meeting rooms. He’s become a wiz at operating industrial printers but at the cost of his soul.

And now, slightly higher than the lowest position of the corporate food chain, there have been countless nights where Yoongi would hear the door click open at some ungodly hour in the morning, or a phone call from Hoseok way too late at night asking Yoongi to come pick him up.

There’s always a specific look to Hoseok at these hours, the dimness of his eyes and the hunch in his shoulders, the slight droop of his mouth that silently signals please don’t talk to me right now.

Yoongi looks at all of that, then at his plans, and thinks that it has to be worth a try. There’s nothing to lose and way more than they could imagine to gain.

Hoseok took his time with his decision and Yoongi waited, and just as he concluded that the idea had been long forgotten, the door to Yoongi’s bedroom was slammed open at midnight by an aggravated Hoseok who very simply said, “Are you free to get married on Sunday?”

The actual thing wasn’t some kind of celebration, more like a school assignment being handed in. They wore the clothes they usually wore and dragged the two college kids that live next door with them as the required witnesses. Min Yoongi left the registry office that day with Jung Hoseok as his husband.

To celebrate their first night as spouses, they popped open a bottle of champagne over a pile of paperwork, calculating how much they’d be saving in taxes and what they’d gain from workplace benefits at their companies. Hoseok’s eyes lit up in wonder at the number, holy shit, and despite the sad reality of him being joyful about their finances in a society looking to exploit them, Yoongi can’t help but feel that this might just be the best decision he’s ever made for the both of them.

Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok are successful con men, and they’re bathing in the glory of their heist.

…Except there are a few issues that have begun to arise since.

The first one is this: no one else other than the relevant people were supposed to know about this. Yoongi’s boss was one of said people, though word got out to the entire office anyway and he now knows to never trust work emails with any confidential information. Hoseok suffered a similar fate at the hands of his ‘hip’ overenthusiastic boss who couldn’t contain his excitement at the news.

Which leads to another issue, perhaps the most pressing one of all: they didn’t expect to have to lie so much.

A boss is one thing, a co-worker is another—two kids living a door away from them who they frequently share an elevator with has become the biggest beast to handle.

“So when’s the wedding?”

“There’s no wedding.”

“Why not?”

“We can’t afford one.”

“How expensive are weddings?”

“Very.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Just haven’t told them yet.”

“But—”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi says as calmly as he can. He eyes the numbers blinking on the monitor. Can this thing go any faster? “If you don’t mind, we want to keep most of the details private.”

“Oh! You’re that kind of couple.” Taehyung nods with a newfound understanding. “That’s perfect.”

The word choice makes Yoongi’s ears quirk. “Perfect?”

“You don’t feel the need to prove yourself to anyone because you’re so secure with your relationship,” Taehyung goes on to say like it’s obvious. “And you’d rather keep these special details within the two of you. That’s great!”

The elevator reaches their floor, and Yoongi parts from his neighbor with a brand new perspective of their scheme.

Secure. That’s a great keyword.

△

How many words does one person speak in a day? How many of those words form complete sentences, and how many of those completed sentences are true?

Things are looking up, almost like there’s a honeymoon phase in a marriage with no romance. Hoseok gets shorter work days as well as an extra day off, and Yoongi’s pay has gone up by a significant amount.

With their newfound wealth, they now feast on imported instant noodles that have real vegetables and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to grab the fancy cuts of meat at the grocery store. They stay up late on Saturday nights to catch up on dramas their friends have been raving about, and if they have the budget for it—which of course they do, they’ll go watch a movie in theaters or eat out.

To get all of this at the cost of well—their money—and a handful of lies, Yoongi thinks this is a bargain.

Lying isn’t even that hard—who would dare question it and interrogate him? His co-workers don’t care enough to even consider the fact that Yoongi has pulled all of his answers out of thin air. He’s getting out of this unscathed.

That is, until a particular Kim Seokjin enters the arena with a hidden motive.

“So how’s married life?” he suddenly asks after what should be the end of their good morning exchange. He doesn’t look like he’s about to leave soon either, leaning on the edge of Yoongi’s desk.

“It’s been fine,” Yoongi tells him.

“Good, good,” he murmurs. “That’s great to hear. No honeymoon?”

Yoongi quirks at the strange question but brushes the weird feeling off. “We don’t have enough money saved to go anywhere at the moment.”

The longest pause in the world ensues. He still doesn’t leave.

“Do you feel...different?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “...I’m sorry?”

“Do you feel like your life is…complete?” He averts his gaze. “...Easier?”

It finally clicks in Yoongi’s mind and he can barely believe what’s happening.

Kim Seokjin, the one guy he has consistently talked to ever since his first day on the job, his table mate at lunch who knows to eat without saying a word. The one who appeared humble enough to not brag about how he got transferred from the New York branch of their company. Though not by a high standard, the one person in the office he would trust the most, has become a mole for the higher-ups who’s caught on that Yoongi suddenly getting married without ever mentioning a partner before this is suspicious. This is the kind of betrayal he would only ever imagine.

He and Hoseok didn’t prepare for this, not really. They didn’t think they’d need to.

“It’s mostly the same,” Yoongi manages to say.

“The same,” Seokjin repeats quietly. Is he mocking him? “Were you two living together before?”

This is getting invasive; is he just going to keep asking questions until he’s cornered Yoongi? What will happen then?

Panic slowly rises beneath his skin before he remembers his keyword: Secure.

“We don’t feel the need to prove ourselves to anyone since we’re quite secure,” he repeats Taehyung’s words verbatim. “And we’d rather keep these special details within the two of us, if you don’t mind.”

Seokjin looks startled. “Oh,” he breathes, “of course. I’m sorry for overstepping.”

He eventually leaves, but something feels off; Yoongi can’t quite put his finger on it. He looked embarrassed and almost…ashamed. Would he have reacted the way he did if he really was trying to interrogate Yoongi?

What is Kim Seokjin really hiding?

Hoseok frowns as he thinks. “He could just be curious? You know how it is with straight people.”

“That, or someone’s suspicious of me,” Yoongi adds. “Is that the case for you?”

“Well, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, shrugging, but his smile seems sad. “I just realized I kinda suck at this.”

“At what?”

“Knowing myself,” Hoseok mutters. “People were surprised, obviously, because I never mentioned dating anyone before, and it was so sudden that they’re wondering if this is really what I want.” He shakes his head. “I know it really doesn’t matter what they think, so yeah.”

It’s not anything Yoongi expects to hear. With how things have gone lately, he didn’t anticipate this melancholy coming from Hoseok. Yoongi shifts his hand closer to where Hoseok’s rest, though they don’t touch. “Talk to me?”

Hoseok’s smile curves up slightly. “I am ,” he says, though he knows what that phrase really means. 

“This isnʼt really how I imagined things would go for me, you know?” Hoseok says, voice fainter now. “I thought I’d find someone to settle down with, get married to a song from my favorite movie, go on honeymoon in Kyoto maybe, and have like two kids, then maybe retire and go back to Gwangju. Something like that.” He blinks, then suddenly adds, “Not that thereʼs anything wrong with being with you.”

“You just listed everything wrong with being with me, though,” Yoongi whispers.

“Hyung,” Hoseok says, tilts his head, hesitating, before asking, “this is a dumb question, but have you ever fallen in love?”

Yoongi would poke fun at him if he didn’t seem so dejected, so he considers it carefully. “Once or twice, I guess. For a few days.”

Hoseok snorts. “A few days?”

“For a few days until I found something weird about them and it all faded,” Yoongi answers. “But maybe you have a different idea of it.”

“Probably, yeah,” Hoseok agrees. “Did you love Namjoon?”

Yoongi nods. “For a few days.”

“And are you okay with not loving anyone for…” he chuckles, “...however long this marriage is?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi tells him honestly. “I don’t feel like I need to.” He eyes Hoseok’s expression. “It’s not the same for you, is it?”

Just from the look in Hoseok’s eyes, he knows.

This is where they differ the most; Yoongi has known it for a while. Hoseok has his entire life planned out and knows what he has to do to move from one stage to another. Yoongi can barely imagine where he’d be in two years. All he has to worry about is how to survive now, he’s always thought.

Seeing Hoseok so down always makes Yoongi a little agitated, though. “Don’t look so guilty,” he says, elbowing him just to lighten things up. “It’s not like I’m madly in love with you. You can just call it off if you hate it so much.”

“I don’t hate it,” Hoseok says, though he’s smiling again. “I’m just…I guess I don’t really understand how you’re okay with this.”

“Well I tolerate you, and you tolerate me,” Yoongi puts it simply. “We can just continue to tolerate each other for as long as we can. That’s enough for me.”

Hoseok’s smile shifts into something sweeter, something…secure. “I think that’s even better than you loving me.”

△

Yoongi likes to think that he’s pretty good at improvising and adapting when things don’t go as planned. Perhaps the getaway isn’t as easy as he had thought.

He was called into his supervisor’s office about the project their team has been working on. He’s an older man with a teenage daughter, and his wife has curly hair; all of which was evident from the framed photo sitting on his desk. 

Bingo.

“Don’t get me wrong, but aren’t pre-wedding photos usually taken… pre wedding?”

“We couldn’t afford a wedding,” Yoongi reiterates as he fumbles with the button of his blazer. Asking the photography student who lives next door to do them a favor would probably be easier than Yoongi trying to take the photos himself. “Still, it doesn’t feel right to not have photos.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to understand the concept entirely but nods anyway. Yoongi doesn’t blame him. “Are you ready, hyung?”

“Hm? Yeah,” Hoseok says as he emerges from his bedroom in his suit, hair now slicked back the way he usually does it when he attends an important event. Yoongi has to take a second to really look at him like this; the shape of his eyebrows, his side profile, the way he turns to look at Yoongi and smiles. “Hold on.” He walks over to adjust Yoongi’s tie and tucks a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. “There.”

They stand next to each other in the one good suit they each have, staring into Jungkook’s camera lens that’s being hesitantly lowered. “Doesn’t this feel a bit too formal?”

“You’re the photographer,” Hoseok says. “Direct us.”

“I’ve never done a pre-wedding photoshoot before,” Jungkook rebuts in a childish tone. “Not in an apartment like this either. Just…” He bites his lip and frowns as he thinks, despite his complaints. “Maybe interact? Hold hands?”

Before Yoongi can even react, Hoseok has already taken his hand, lacing it together as he smiles for the camera. The shutter clicks before Yoongi can even react to it, getting an annoyed huff from Jungkook in response as if it’s his fault. He takes a deep breath, drags his thumb over the back of Hoseok’s hand and accepts his fate.

He wonders if Hoseok is uncomfortable with the entire ordeal, considering what he said that night, how this life with Yoongi is nowhere near the one he wishes to have, and neither of them can do anything about it. All they have right now is each other. Yoongi just has to do his part in making sure that Hoseok is at least happy with this.

He tugs at Hoseok’s hand. “You look good, by the way.”

It catches Hoseok by surprise, the slight widening of his eyes and how his smile lights up his entire face. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

The shutter clicks suddenly. Jungkook is already looking through the photos by the time Yoongi turns to him.

“Can we try a kiss this time?”

Yoongi sputters, almost offended for some reason. “Who the hell gave you that bright idea?”

Jungkook frowns. “What? You told me to direct.”

Hoseok is quiet next to him but the tips of his ears are red. “Getting a photo of that is a bit…embarrassing.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi quickly agrees. “Why would you even—” Hoseok’s grip on his hands tighten suddenly, and he’s reminded that Jungkook isn’t demanding anything outrageous from a married couple. He quickly calms down. “We’re not kissing in front of you.”

“...Alright.” Jungkook moves on. “How about you turn to face each other? And then you hold each other’s arms like— yeah! Like that. Don’t look at the camera.”

Yoongi looks into Hoseok’s eyes and wonders if they’ve ever really looked at each other like this, arms enclosing one another. Throughout the years that they’ve known each other, sharing spaces and secrets they don’t dare tell anyone else, does Yoongi know Hoseok as much as he knows himself?

Hoseok’s smile angles into a funny one. “This isn’t awkward at all, huh. Should we talk?”

Yoongi blinks. “About what?”

“Each other.”

“I know everything about you already,” Yoongi murmurs, and it makes Hoseok laugh.

“That’s true. I know everything about you.” He turns to the camera, suddenly. “What about you, Jungkook? What have you and Taehyung been up to?”

“Me?” Jungkook croaks, slightly flustered. “The usual. Taehyung hyung is… messing around with some guy I guess.”

That gets both of their attention. Yoongi turns to him too. “What?”

“I thought you two were dating,” Hoseok adds.

Jungkook’s eyes almost pop out of his skull from how wide they grow. “Huh? No, no. Never, even. We’re just roommates.” There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears are red.

“Oh dear,” Yoongi whispers.

Hoseok catches it, though. His gaze changes now when he looks at Jungkook. “Don’t tell me you…”

“Yeah, I’d like to not talk about it,” Jungkook mutters as he holds up his camera. “Please.”

They turn back to each other with the same look in their eyes and come to a silent agreement to not push it.

△

Hoseok is the more forward one out of the two of them when it comes to the apartment and how things are set up. Yoongi has no hard-set preferences, so things balance out easily.

It can get a little too meticulous, however.

“Actually, it might be too much to hang it here,” Hoseok grumbles, holding his chin. “It’d be the first thing anyone sees when they open the door.”

“So the living room,” Yoongi circles back.

“I told you it’s weird to hang it in the living room!” Hoseok whines. “It’d just be there while we’re watching TV. And don’t say one of our bedrooms because then there’s no point putting it up if no one else is gonna see it.”

Yoongi groans as he rubs his eyes, still holding onto the framed photo from their pre-wedding shoot. It isn’t anything obscene; just a candid photo of them chuckling about how ridiculous the situation was. Yoongi picked a more conventional photo of them smiling at the camera with their arms linked, but Hoseok insisted on this one, saying that it seems more authentic, more “them”.

“Let’s just hang it down the hallway. People will walk past it and it’s not too in-your-face,” Yoongi concludes after he’s decided that this ordeal has gone on for far too long and he needs to leave for work.

“Deal,” Hoseok chirps, high-fiving him. “Have fun at work, hyung! Hope your weird co-worker gets less weird.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Yoongi mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder and taking one last gulp of his bitter coffee. “Hope.”

As it turns out, Hoseok and Yoongi’s combined willpower does not work.

Kim Seokjin is leaning awkwardly over his desk, clearing his throat for the third time before pointing jaggedly at something on Yoongi’s desk. “Is that him? Your husband.”

Yoongi turns to look at the small framed photo that he chose, which he still thinks is the least embarrassing one out of all of them. “That’s him.”

“He’s handsome,” his co-worker comments, and Yoongi isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to that. A ‘thank you’ doesn’t really sound right.

“He is,” Yoongi says, and he doubts if it’s the right response when Seokjin suddenly leans in closer, eyebrows furrowed.

“I need to talk to you about something,” he cuts to the chase, catching Yoongi off-guard. “Well– I have a few questions, that’s all. Do you mind if we talk at lunch?”

What will happen if he refuses? Will they keep sending people to interrogate him? Would they involve Hoseok? “Sure,” he chokes out. “That’s fine.”

He never thought a company could do this—press into their employees' personal life through a mole feigning casual conversations on break time. How much are they paying Seokjin to do this? What benefits did they promise him? The poor guy seems so uncomfortable with lying but still pushes on anyway.

“Sorry for breaking our no-talking-at-lunch pact,” Seokjin says remorsefully, digging into his food. “Did your husband make that?” He gestures to Yoongi’s boxed lunch.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I made it myself.”

“I see…” Seokjin fidgets. “What does he do for a living?”

“He’s part of a creative direction team.”

“Oh, for which company?”

Yoongi sets his utensils down, standing his ground. Prodding into Hoseok’s life is pushing it too far. “Jin hyung,” he says flatly. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Seokjin rebuts with a hint of panic. “Do you not want to talk about your husband?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “What are you really trying to do?”

Seokjin parts his lips but no words come out. He sputters for a little bit, letting sentences trail off incomplete before he blinks. “I need your advice on how to propose.”

Everything comes to a stop.

“What?”

Seokjin suddenly panics again. “It’s for a romance novel I’m working on,” he quickly says. “Donʼt make me get into the details. I just need inspiration and some references for it to feel real…yeah.”

This is a lie, isn’t it? It has to be, but Seokjin looks somewhat relieved, and that would explain why he was so nervous approaching Yoongi about it.

Still, he presses, “Plenty of people here are married.”

“Yeah, but I’m closest to you and this is new,” Seokjin rebuts, more animated now. “It’s all still fresh in your mind so you’d be the best source material for it.”

Yoongi is still apprehensive about the whole thing. “...Okay?”

However, Seokjin seems to take that as a yes when his eyes light up. “Okay, so how did you propose to your husband? Did you plan an elaborate thing and scheduled everything or did you just suddenly bring it up one day? What did you say?”

Yoongi blinks at the outburst of questions and contemplates whether he has to actually be doing this. It seems less likely now that someone is spying on him. He considers saying no, but the memory of the first time he brought the topic up to Hoseok is fun to reminisce about.

“He didn’t think I was proposing when I first said it.”

Seokjin’s eyes go wide. “When you first– you had to propose twice?”

“A few more times, actually,” Yoongi recalls. “He just thought I was crazy, but he didn’t say no.” He chuckles. “It took a lot of convincing just for him to get that I was serious.”

“Huh,” Seokjin murmurs. “So…what did you say to convince him?”

Yoongi looks down at his hands, too cowardly to grasp Hoseok’s. “I said that it’s hard to imagine my life ten or twenty years from now because I always change my mind about things. But…” He clears his throat. It’s the first time he’s repeating these words. “I can clearly imagine him there. Because if I tolerate him and he tolerates me, maybe we can just continue to tolerate each other for as long as we can.”

Seokjin is quiet by the time he finishes, and the embarrassment catches up to Yoongi.

“...Something like that,” he says to clear the air. “Are you gonna write it down or something?”

Seokjin blinks. “Oh, maybe?– no, no, it’s fine. I won’t use your words literally. Just… inspiration.”

Even with his secret out, there’s still something about Kim Seokjin that seems a little panicky and odd, and Yoongi struggles to let it go.

“I mean…” Hoseok is gathering his thoughts after listening to Yoongi’s retelling. “Interviewing someone to write a gay romance novel can be kinda weird. Especially if it’s your co-worker.”

Yoongi frowns. “How do you know he’s writing a gay romance?”

“No one would be ashamed of a straight romance,” Hoseok points out, and Yoongi just accepts it. “And you said you didn’t make anything up?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Just told him like it was.”

“Ah…” Hoseok’s chuckle is dry, suddenly. “So you didn’t…actually lie. No consequences there…”

Yoongi catches on and he has a very bad feeling about this. “What did you do?”

“So, um, hyung…” Hoseok looks nervous, and Yoongi is suddenly alert. “Don’t get mad, but…”

“Kids?”

“I’m sorry!” Hoseok hides behind a throw pillow like he’s bracing himself for an attack. “It just slipped out!”

“Just slipped out?” Yoongi repeats incredulously. Hoseok winces when he grabs a throw pillow. “How do you just let it slip that you have kids when you don’t?”

“Listen!” Hoseok pleads, still ridiculously holding his pillow shield up in case Yoongi decides to throw his. “This guy at work, Dowoon hyung—he’s definitely kinda homophobic—started asking me about our relationship and started questioning it like ‘oh, are you sure it’s gonna last? You’re eventually gonna feel like something’s off’” Hoseok slurs his words in an odd accent. “Infuriating stuff like that! He was basically insulting you saying you’re not enough! That set me off so I started carping at him about how stable we are and how it’s gonna last because–” He gulps. “...That’s where the kids thing kicked in.”

In that mess of an explanation, Yoongi finds himself slightly endeared by Hoseok trying to defend his honor as a husband, albeit hypothetical. He lowers the pillow in his hand, but then he realizes something. “Wait… kids, plural?”

Their elaborate marriage fraud scheme has led to Yoongi, apparent husband and father of two, mercilessly attacking his own husband with a throw pillow.

“Our hypothetical children are not going to a school in the Seongbuk district!” Yoongi carps. The pillow smacks Hoseok’s shoulder with a loud thud. “What were you thinking? It’s too far away. How would you even explain how you drop them off every morning and still be on time for work?” He grabs another pillow but Hoseok pushes back at it. “Unless you get up super early and wake the kids up super early, it’s impossible. Do you know how insufferable children are in the morning?”

“Well why canʼt our kids be calm early birds?” Hoseok argues, taking as many pillows hostage as possible so Yoongi runs out of weapons. “Maybe I’m just reinforcing good habits while they’re young. I’m a great hypothetical dad.”

Yoongi relents at that, dropping his hands to his side and sitting down. “Whatever. Just try not to do it again. It’ll get tricky if HR finds out about it and gets you to register as someone with a family and ask for birth certificates we don’t have.”

“That’s fair enough…” Hoseok trails off. “...Would you want kids though?” There’s an air of hesitance in his breath. “Hypothetically. If–if it ever comes down to it.”

Yoongi glances at their portrait in the hallway. “With you?”

Hoseok makes a noise. “Well…maybe? Doesn’t have to be me, but it could be, since we’re…here.” He chuckles. “It wouldn’t feel right to have kids with someone else when we’re married.”

Yoongi sighs. “This isn’t a trap, Seok. You can end it whenever you feel like it’s stopping you from doing something. You’re not forced to be with me.”

“I know,” Hoseok rebuts. “It would be if I just choose to stay with you anyway.” His voice lowers when he asks, “Does this mean you don’t want kids?”

Yoongi thinks about it carefully. “When you put it like that… I know you do, so we might just give it a go,” he concludes. “If it ever comes down to it.”

“...Seriously?”

“Yeah. If we can afford it.”

“...Adoption or surrogacy?”

“Surrogacy is probably way pricier and more complicated. Adoption’s fine.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“I already said I will.”

Fingers close over his wrist, and he turns to see a very emotional Hoseok. “Hyung…”

Yoongi finds himself holding his breath, looking into his eyes. “Talk to me?”

Hoseok parts his lips but nothing comes out. He gulps, swallowing whatever that was choking him up away and settles. “I can settle with one kid. As a compromise.”

Yoongi nods. “Sounds good.”

△

The fuss they made over where their wedding portrait should be is a bit useless in hindsight. Although it isn’t in a flashy spot in the apartment, Yoongi can still see it in the corner of his eye every time he’s sitting on the couch, and his gaze keeps drifting from whatever he’s doing to look at it, like his brain just can’t get over it. Aside from that, they rarely have guests over to really acknowledge it.

Despite being the photographer, Jungkook is standing in the hallway, staring at the portrait with his arms behind his back like an old man looking at contemporary art.

Hoseok slips past him into the living room with two bowls of ramen. “Why are you here anyway?” He sets down the bowl for Yoongi on the table. “It’s Sunday night.”

“What’s a non-explicit version of being sexiled?”

“...Exiled?”

Yoongi frowns. “Taehyung kicked you out?”

“He didn’t,” Jungkook quickly says, finally leaving the portrait alone to go grab his own bowl from the kitchen. “I’m just…excusing myself so he doesn’t have to awkwardly ask me to leave.”

Yoongi connects the dots in his head. “He’s with the guy from class? They’re dating now?”

“Well, no,” Jungkook murmurs. “He said they’re just friends but I can see that they’re getting closer, so I’m just making way for them.”

While he gobbles up half the bowl, Hoseok and Yoongi turn to confusedly frown at each other.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok starts wobbly, gaze still fixed on Yoongi’s as he talks, making sure that he’s saying the right words. “Would it be fair to say that you might be thinking a little too far ahead?”

Jungkook shakes his head as he chews. “They’re good for each other. I have no problem with it.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks.

“He’s good for him,” Jungkook murmurs. “The first time I saw him, I just thought oh… that’s why he’s never looked at me.”

He seems too neutral after dropping a confessin as sad as that, as though he’s accepted this hurt so willingly.

Hoseok is upset now, Yoongi can tell. “What makes you think that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “He’s just…good. He’s nice, he’s touchy, he’s cute, he’s hot–”

“Cute and hot,” Hoseok repeats incredulously.

“You’ll get it when you see him,” Jungkook says simply.

Hoseok springs up. “I’ll go see him then.”

Yoongi can see alarms go off in Jungkook’s head when he scrambles to follow Hoseok. “Hyung, don’t–” but Hoseok is unstoppable once he’s made up his mind. “No, please!”

The apartment door shuts and it’s quiet. Yoongi looks at the abandoned bowls of ramen and wonders if he’s supposed to follow them out too.

Eh. He keeps eating. Hoseok will handle it.

His phone buzzes as he’s doing the dishes.

hyung! 

I’m coming back to seoul in november

do you want to meet up then?

Yoongi goes back to washing the dishes before wiping his hands dry.

sure

△

Yoongi met Namjoon on his first day of class. They got along quickly as friends despite Yoongi finding him strange at times, but all of that was explained when Namjoon confessed to him one day. It wasn’t love then, not really, but Namjoon was nice and there wasn’t a strong reason to say no.

They ended up dating for a year before they graduated and Namjoon got a job in the states that is too good to turn down. Yoongi didn’t mind it when he called things off, when he got sat down for the ‘let’s just be friends’ conversation.

Yoongi does miss him though.

Hoseok picks at the label of a new jar they bought. “Is that why you agreed to meet up?”

Yoongi shrugs, sorting their groceries out of the bag. “I guess. Didn’t he message you too?”

“Yeah, but that’s different, obviously.”

“How so?”

“...Because he didn’t break my heart?”

The beer bottles almost slip out of his hands, though they clatter loudly against one another. “He didn’t break my heart,” Yoongi murmurs.

Hoseok runs the jar under the tap, still rubbing at the label. “You cried talking to me about it.”

Yoongi makes a noise. “I did?”

Hoseok pulls a face. “You don’t remember? You talked about how you got it, how you wanted the best for him. You said it’s all for the better, but you didn’t understand why you were still sad.”

It all comes back to him then, like a sour memory he’s repressed. He felt pathetic and unreasonable, crying over something that just made sense. “Ah, yeah. I did say that.”

Something in his tone must’ve caught Hoseok’s ear when the tap turns off and he fully turns around to face Yoongi. “Does that have something to do with why you’re telling me about this now?”

“No, I was just updating you. I know you two are friends too. No.” Yoongi sets the beer bottles down, hands dropping to his side. “Maybe a little bit.”

Hoseok sighs and takes his time to wipe his hands dry before pulling Yoongi into a hug. It’s unusual, this kind of contact between the two of them. Yoongi doesn’t really know how to react, but with Hoseok’s arms wrapped around him and his face pressed into Hoseok’s shoulder, all these buzzing thoughts calm down to a quiet he hasn’t expected in a while.

“Huh,” he murmurs. “You actually give really good hugs.”

He feels Hoseok chuckle, a vibrating sensation against him. “Look at us,” he muses, “learning something new about each other six years in.”

Slowly, Yoongi hugs him back and inhales. It smells like the fabric softener they use. “Why don’t we do this more?”

Hoseok scoffs. “I wonder why, Mr. Don’t-touch-me.”

Yoongi doesn’t argue with that. “But you like touch.”

“That I do,” Hoseok hums. Maybe it should feel weird to softly talk while they’re hugging, but he can’t recall the last time he’s been held like this. “I don’t get touchy with you, obviously.”

Yoongi closes his eyes, “You can, though. Husband privileges and all.”

It makes Hoseok chuckle, but he isn’t joking.

Yoongi hugs his husband in the kitchen for a long while, not thinking of anything else.

△

Life isn’t as cyclical as it appears to be, as it turns out. Each day has a different detail to it that slowly creates more variety. Yoongi’s daily routine is the same each day, but this morning he ran into Jungkook holding a small bouquet of tiger lilies in the elevator, and he actually talks to Seokjin at lunch now.

“They actually changed the notice in the elevator.” Seokjin says. “Did you see?”

“The one about the Halloween party? Yeah.” Yoongi murmurs nonchalantly. “Not my thing.”

“They’re giving away a 27-inch monitor at the raffle.”

Yoongi’s spoon clatters into his plate. “Seriously?”

“Right? They really have the budget this year,” Seokjin muses, then picks up on Yoongi’s gaping mouth. “Oh, you really want it.”

Yoongi promptly wakes up, picking up his spoon again. “It’d be nice to have one at home, that’s all. That way I won’t have to come into work all the time.”

A corner of Seokjin’s mouth lifts. “So you can spend more time with your husband?”

Yoongi almost chokes on his food. Is he imagining it, or does Seokjin keep bringing Hoseok up? He’s been asking questions from time to time—if the legal process is quick or how they divide the chores. He’s never written anything down, so he either has remarkable memory or none of these proddings were for research at all.

“But hey, if you really want it, I’ll join the raffle and give you the prize if I win it. Double the chance,” Seokjin suggests.

And this—Yoongi really can’t complain much, not when Seokjin likes to pull these random acts of kindness for him. Maybe this is a fair trade after all—Yoongi gets treated well by a decent co-worker and in return he just has to talk about his life with Hoseok, which he finds that he doesn’t mind at all. Is he getting better at lying or has he just been telling the truth?

It’s not like there’s something profound there—Yoongi doesn’t look at Hoseok and feel his heart trying to break out of his ribs or overthink everything he says. Hoseok is just Hoseok, has been that ever since they met and will continue to be just that. It’s not love, just the norm.

Back at home, Yoongi is standing in front of their portrait where the door unlocks and Hoseok heaves himself in.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks.

Hoseok grunts as he drops his shoes off on the rack. “Got yelled at.”

“The fuck?” Yoongi frowns. “For what?”

“My team sucks, apparently.” Hoseok swings his bag off his shoulders and drops it haphazardly, digging his wallet and keys out of his pocket. “Because we–” he cuts himself off, still clearly frazzled, and groans. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Okay,” Yoongi murmurs. “Want me to make dinner?”

“I’m not hungry yet.”

“How about tea?”

“...Tea sounds nice.”

They’ve learned to be with each other over the years and grew so accustomed to each other’s habits that arguments are scarce. It’s always been him, Yoongi thinks, not for the first time. It so obviously has. Life is just a repeat cycle of little variances, and Hoseok is a part of it.

Hoseok still has his towel draped over his shoulders as he clutches his mug, ranting about work and the meeting and how he got cut off mid-presentation. Yoongi listens to it all quietly, knowing that Hoseok would reverse the roles and become the listener instead as soon as Yoongi talks.

“It’s just been a lot,” he exhales. “And there’s no time to do anything outside of work, so I’ve just been wound up.”

“You haven’t gone out in a while,” Yoongi comments. He can’t recall the last time Hoseok brought someone home either.

Hoseok shakes his head. “It’d be awkward to do that.” Then he looks away, glancing at the portrait. Yoongi suggests they coordinate it and take it down when Hoseok wants to have someone over, but that only makes Hoseok laugh and shake his head again. “It wouldn’t feel right, anyway.”

“This isn’t some abstinence camp,” Yoongi rebuts. “No one would know you’re married unless you tell them.”

“It’s alright, hyung.” Hoseok looks down at the tea Yoongi made. “I’m busy enough as it is. I don’t need it that much.”

It’s quiet when Yoongi decides to stop pushing, but then Hoseok chuckles. “Sometimes I kinda miss kissing though. Can’t go up to some stranger and ask to kiss them.”

Yoongi looks down at his hands, then back at Hoseok, then the wall. “You can kiss me, if it’s any consolation.”

Hoseok laughs. “I’ve kissed you before. It was fine.” (Second year of university. They were bored and thought it’d be funny, and so it happened that one time.)

Yoongi looks at Hoseok’s side profile. “Well, can you settle with fine?”

Hoseok turns to look at him and a corner of his lips quirks up. “Maybe.”

So Hoseok leans in to peck Yoongi on the lips, and Yoongi lets him. Hoseok exhales slowly, though he’s caught off-guard when Yoongi presses his lips to his again, firmer this time, but still soft.

“Fine?” he asks when they pull away.

Hoseok chuckles. “Yeah, it’s fine.” Then he bites his lips, contemplating before he asks, “Can I do it again?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I’m still here.”

So they kiss again, less hesitant this time. Yoongi can feel Hoseok’s smile against his lips, sees it when Hoseok ducks his head and looks back up at him.

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Any time.”

He watches Hoseok get up, but he calls out just as Hoseok reaches the hallway. “My company’s throwing a Halloween party. Do you wanna come with me?”

Hoseok turns back around, clearly surprised. “Am I allowed?”

“Yeah, plus-ones are allowed,” Yoongi tells him. “I don’t want to look dumb in a costume by myself and there’s raffle that I want to win.”

It’s an obvious excuse but it makes Hoseok smile. “Sure hyung, I can go look dumb with you.”

The doorbell rings, jolting him. Jungkook is dressed up and has stopped by to ask to borrow Hoseok’s fancy cologne.

“What’s the occasion?” Yoongi asks him.

Jungkook fixes his hair in the mirror. “I’m going on a date.”

“Oh!” Hoseok exclaims. “With Taehyung?”

“Ah, no,” Jungkook quickly says, suddenly flustered. “It’s uh… this guy from my class. Jimin hyung.”

Hoseok’s eyes are wide. “...A different Jimin?” Jungkook shakes his head, and Hoseok looks like he’s malfunctioning. “I thought…”

Jungkook’s face is red. “He invited me. I couldn’t say no.”

One look from Hoseok catches Yoongi up to the situation. Cute and hot Jimin, the Jimin Taehyung likes; the Jimin Jungkook has been so jealous of, and now he’s just as confused. “What about Taehyung?”

Jungkook blinks. “What about him?”

“Don’t you have that annoying crush on him?” Yoongi adds. “He got you flowers?”

“Yes—no—” Jungkook sputters. “I mean—no to the flowers thing, that was Jimin hyung. Yes to the uh…” He blushes. “The annoying crush thing.”

Yoongi frowns, concluding, “So you still have an annoying crush on your roommate but you’re also going on a date with your classmate who bought you flowers?”

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Yoongi and Hoseok turn to look at each other for a moment, not saying a word before they both turn back to Jungkook, who looks like he’s about to blush to death. “Okay. Have fun.”

△

As partners in crime, there’s an obvious choice for their Halloween costume.

Taehyung’s eyes flicker between their faces and the red face paint in his hand. “How bloody do you want to be?”

An attempt to answer that question leads to an overly long discussion and Hoseok looking up how Bonnie and Clyde died just to be sure, and if they want to be active or post-death Bonnie and Clyde.

Yoongi tugs at his tie uncomfortably. He’s been so used to wearing loose hoodies for work that something so fitting feels so stuffy now, but he supposes that he can bear it for one night. Taehyung has his mouth subconsciously parted while doing Hoseok’s makeup, though he doesn’t seem to realize it. They’ve called him over from next door not just to help them with their makeup, but also to settle this bizarre debacle straight once and for all.

“So what the hell’s going on with you and that Jimin guy?” Yoongi asks unprompted, too tired of building things up just to ask a question.

Taehyung startles, and a line of red goes from the corner of Hoseok’s mouth across his cheek.

His full name is Park Jimin. Taehyung met him through Jungkook and everything clicked. He’s playful, easy-going, and touched him deeply through simple gestures, but—

“But?” Yoongi prods when Taehyung goes quiet, concentrating on fixing Hoseok’s makeup. He’s waiting for that one answer, the revelation to whatever shape the three of them have formed with their relationship, if Taehyung really knows of this hurt Jungkook has been quietly carrying.

“But,” he eventually says through an exhale, “that’s just who he is. With everyone. I’m just fascinated by him, I guess. Jungkook is too.”

The last sentence is like a plot twist in a novel, one that has Yoongi wondering if he could’ve picked up signs leading up to this if he flips a few pages back to reread them. Had Taehyung said it casually, perhaps neither he or Hoseok would’ve picked up on it the way they simultaneously did. It sounds like an afterthought instead, the smallest sentence of a paragraph he doesn’t dare say.

Yoongi’s eyes meet Hoseok’s— could it be?

“You kids are confusing,” he murmurs. “Things will only get messier if you keep quiet.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond to that, and Yoongi lets it go. Just as he’s finishing up, however, quietly, he says, “You can’t say something you don’t know how to explain.”

Yoongi puts all the blame on his work, keeping him too occupied to spare him any time to reflect and really think about what everything going on right now would accumulate into when seen as a whole. Perhaps all these elements are words that would perfectly fall together into a sentence, and that sentence may be a definition of a word that would encompass everything, something at the tip of his tongue—something that, once it dawns on him finally, he’d kick himself, baffled as to how oblivious he has been. And maybe then, the faint blur that surrounds him and Hoseok would dissipate into clearness, and they’ll look at each other unobstructed by any little speck of their visions, or the small fluttering corners where their eyelashes sit.

Hoseok deserves that revelation, be it that this scheme of theirs is absolutely flawless and they’ll bask in their surreptitious joy unfazed, or that perhaps Hoseok will only truly be himself if he walks away and meets people without this weighing him down.

And Yoongi—Yoongi knows what he wants more, and what might break his heart a little, but whatever outcome it is would be the right one.

It can’t be anyone else, he’s thought about it countless times now, looking at Hoseok who greets the people in his department, accepting compliments for his costume and trying to guess others.

“Hannibal?”

“Linguini from Ratatouille if he decided to kill his rat.” Seokjin adjusts his bloody chef hat on his head. Yoongi had given Hoseok a ‘look’ once Seokjin approached— this is him— but he’s gotten over his apprehensions quite fast.

The party runs on the lowest budget executives were willing to pay out of their own pockets, though Yoongi finds it to be just enough to not be so overwhelming. They drink a little, get approached by a photographer who Hoseok entertains, swinging his prop gun on his finger. Yoongi feels an odd wholeness that he didn’t expect, seeing people’s eyes light up when they meet Hoseok, when they glance at Yoongi with awe-filled eyes as if he has any part in this beauty Hoseok exudes to the world. He has none—but rather, the luck that has let him see Jung Hoseok up close for as long as he has, for Jung Hoseok to pull him a little closer when he drifts a little too far away for his liking.

They hold their breaths as the raffle winners are being announced, all three of them—though it only comes to a disappointing end. Seokjin squeezes his shoulder briefly, guilty as though he has any control over chance.

“I need to pee,” Hoseok says once they’ve had enough social interaction for the rest of the month. Yoongi lets himself get dragged out of the hall to the empty corridor leading to the bathroom. Their footsteps sync up as they walk, and Hoseok’s come to a halt at the end of it.

His eyes are clearer now, away from the flashing neon lights, and his voice is free from the booming music and drunk chatter. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Sure,” Yoongi murmurs, holding his waist as Hoseok presses up to him. The kisses are still light, though he chuckles at Hoseok’s enthusiasm. “You’re really cashing in.”

“Didn’t realize this was allowed,” Hoseok says against his cheek. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi smiles. Better than fine, all of a sudden. “I’m glad.”

Whatever name this bliss falls under, it feels like enough. Everything is light, and nothing more is needed from this—the smile on Hoseok’s face, the weird face he pulls before he lets out a flustered laugh. “Ah crap,” his thumbs rub at Yoongiʼs cheek. “Forgot I have lipstick on, sorry.”

Yoongi laughs too as he pulls his hands away, knowing that the stain is only getting worse. “Go pee already so we can get out of here.”

Hoseok lets him go. “Just go wait for me at the parking lot. Talk to your friend.”

Even though it’s partially true, Yoongi knows who Hoseok is referring to. Nothing between him and Seokjin precedes their workplace, sitting a few desks away from each other in a dark room adjusting colors on a screen. It isn’t that Yoongi has anything against them getting closer, but neither of them are willing to make that first step closer. In Seokjin’s case especially, the thing that is holding him back is beyond what Yoongi can ever imagine.

Still, he’s a nice guy. “You’re lucky.”

Yoongi nods. “I’ve lucked out with him.” And that’s still true. Has he ever really lied? “How’s your novel coming along?”

“My novel? Ah…” Seokjin goes quiet for a moment. “I have another question, actually.”

“...Which is?”

“Were you ever scared that you’d lose him?”

“He’s not mine. I can’t lose him.”

“He’s not yours,” he repeats quietly.

“No,” Yoongi affirms, scratching at the dried fake blood, rubbing his fingers over the flakes that have fallen off. “He’s just someone that’s around. If he decides to not be around anymore, then he won’t be. I haven’t lost anything.”

Seokjin takes in his answer with a faint frown, pulling his chef hat off and stuffing it into his bloody apron. “Wouldn’t you lose everything you’ve shared together? The ways he’s made you feel?”

It’s a point Yoongi’s never considered before. “Yeah, maybe I would, but not how he’s made me feel. I’ll take whatever he gives me.”

It’s quiet, and when Yoongi turns, his eyes meet Seokjin’s soft gaze. “Have you ever told him that?”

From a distance, Yoongi sees Hoseok emerging from the elevator, getting lost for a second as he whips his head around before he sees Yoongi and smiles. “I think he knows.”

△

Truth be told, Yoongi can’t pinpoint the few days that he had loved Namjoon—not a time frame or a specific moment. He only knew it when Hoseok asked him, and he knew he must’ve been at some point, and maybe it disappeared when Namjoon’s mindless commentary on everything became more irritating than endearing. Or was it there still, despite all that? It might have been if his leaving made Yoongi cry to Hoseok about it.

Namjoon’s hair is shorter than he’s ever seen it before, he’s moved on from his cozy sweater and turtleneck looks to shorter sleeves and light shorts, rings on several fingers tapping on his thigh as he looks around the living room before sitting down. He notices something and chuckles. “You two look like a married couple there.”

They talk, with Yoongi mostly being the listener. He doesn’t really know what to say; all the pain and hurt from back then has faded. Things feel normal, or as normal as they can be, and Namjoon’s journey in America all goes through Yoongi’s mind flatly before the concluding phrase: “I’ll miss it there, but I’m glad to be back.”

Yoongi turns to look at him. “You’re moving back here?”

“My contract with that studio ended and I’ve signed a new one here,” Namjoon explains.

It feels so surreal for some reason, like the final sentence in a book that throws off the entire story that has led up to it. In Yoongi’s head, this is never supposed to happen, and he doesn’t know what it means. He listens to Namjoon talk about the new studio, his tasks, how he’s moving in with a friend, where to set up his workspace in the apartment. “Can I see yours? For reference.”

“Mine’s alright,” Yoongi says, trying to be nonchalant. “The equipment at work is better so I mostly go into the office.”

It turns out that talking settles things a lot, and this weird feeling within Yoongi fades as he explains his setup—not remarkable, but practical enough. “I got these sheets to frame the monitor but I haven’t installed them.” He pulls open the bottom drawer, pulling out random documents and setting them haphazardly on his desk to grab said sheets at the bottom. “Ah, here—”

Yoongi freezes in place, words long gone from his mouth the moment he sees Namjoon’s wide eyes, looking down at the marriage certificate in his hand.

Neither of them say anything.

“Is this real?

What can Yoongi even make up at this point? “Yeah.”

“You and Hoseok got married?”

“Yeah.”

Namjoon flutters through several different expressions, mouth changing shapes as though he can’t decide on what to say first, how to word things. Then he regains his composure. “Okay. Sorry for freaking out. Yeah, that’s normal. Especially for people our age to get married. I didn’t– I somehow missed that you two were even dating.”

“We never dated,” Yoongi tells him, and knows that he’s only making this more confusing.

So he tells Namjoon everything that evening—the truth, one that only he and Hoseok knew before. Work sucks, they live together, they commit marriage fraud, and work doesn’t suck as much anymore. Namjoon is quiet as he speaks. The half-petrified look on his face slowly fades into something more knowing. He looks like he’s about to say something that’ll change Yoongi’s life, but he stays quiet until Yoongi finishes.

“Everything makes sense, all of a sudden,” he says. “It relieves me to know that I made the right decision, not trying to force us.”

“...What do you mean?”

“It’s always been him.”

He says it frankly, accepting it easily like it’s the truth. “I know we were special too, but it’s him that you love, fully.”

Yoongi shakes his head, panicking. “You’ve got it all wrong, itʼs not like I’m in love with him, heʼs just…” Yoongi trails off. “He’s just that.” He stumbles over his words trying to explain it, though nothing is sounding like how he intends it. “I know him well. We just get each other, thatʼs it. We take turns doing chores and we get groceries together.”

Namjoon looks at him with a gentle gaze. “And canʼt it be just that?”

“What?”

“Love.”

Yoongi scoffs. “It’s not–”

“I thought about you a lot, you know.” Namjoon’s voice is soft enough for him to go quiet. His smile is small but his eyes are clear, looking into Yoongi’s like he’s reading him. “My heart wouldn’t stop pounding when you’d stare at me, not saying a word. I used to think that we were reading each other’s minds, that we were talking with our eyes and so we didn’t need to talk. But then I realized that you weren’t… looking at me. You were looking for something in me.”

“I looked at you because I wanted to,” Yoongi whispers.

“You were looking for something you already had,” Namjoon rebuts. “It just wasn’t me.” He chuckles. “I thought I had you figured out, but then I saw you with him and I never felt dumber. You didn’t have to stare at him; all it took was one look.” When their eyes meet again it’s intense, though they’re both wordless. “Just one look,” Namjoon murmurs, still looking at him. “That was all it took for both of you to know. And I know–” he quickly says when Yoongi parts his lips. “I know it wasn’t like you were stringing me along. I think you just didn’t know. But, well—” he smiles at the thought. “It looks like you still don’t, even though you married him… even though it’s always been there. Just quiet I love yous that you pass to one another. Hasnʼt it always been that way?”

It all comes to Yoongi in a surreal way, and disbelief battles it so vehemently that he doesn’t know what to settle on. “You think I…?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I know you do.”

Yoongi can’t seem to stop thinking about this. He argues with himself and loses every time. It can’t be so simple. What would even happen if it’s true? Will it change them for the better or for worse? How was Namjoon so certain?

He stays cooped up in his room for the rest of the night, not bothering to come out when he hears Hoseok enter. He’s afraid of something; he just isn’t sure what it is, an unseen creature hiding in the shadows. The thought of it keeps him awake. How much of him is made of Hoseok now? From the way he talks and the way his mind processes things. Have they bled into each other to the point that they can never separate as beings void of one another?

One look, Namjoon said. Just one look.

Hoseok stirs awake in his bed, lifting his head from his pillow with bleary eyes. “Hyung?” he croaks.

Yoongi kicks himself for barging in so hastily with no clear objective. He needs to do something, but he’s either forgotten or never really knew what. “Sorry, I thought you were still awake.”

Hoseok blinks, still trying to open his eyes. “...Everything okay?”

Fumbling, Yoongi searches for something to say, anything, but they all fall short when he parts his lips. “I can’t sleep,” he manages eventually, and it’s technically not a lie.

Eyes half-open now, Hoseok looks at him and he finds himself holding his breath. “Do you wanna sleep here or something?” he asks, which isn’t what Yoongi expected, though he didn’t really know what was going to happen. With that said, Hoseok sets his head back down. “Bring your own pillow,” he murmurs, snuggling back into position. “I don’t have a spare one.”

What else can Yoongi do now? Hoseok’s sheets are softer than his and his comforter is bigger. In the dark, Yoongi looks at the back of his head, wondering and wondering, and thinking that maybe he’s just intruding on a good night’s sleep. “I can leave.”

Hoseok makes a noise, then the sheets shift as he turns around, draping an arm over Yoongi, silencing him without a word.

Yoongi closes his eyes, none of his questions fully formed let alone answered, and tries to fall asleep with his husband next to him.

△

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Here it is, the new change in his otherwise usual routine, the detail that varies the days. Seokjin pulled Yoongi aside after work, and he seemed serious enough for Yoongi to not complain about wanting to leave the building as soon as he could.

His opening phrase is that, and Yoongi braces himself for the revelation he’s been waiting so long for. “I thought as much.”

“There’s no novel,” Seokjin says, rubbing the back of his neck, too ashamed to make eye contact, and it only has Yoongi’s mind coming up with a number of possibilities of where this could lead to, what would make him so embarrassed. “I needed advice and you’re the only person I could really ask.”

Yoongi doesn’t really get that. “Why me?”

“You’re like me—or I’m like you.”

“As in…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

The secrecy makes sense all of a sudden, the subtle yet nervous gestures accompanying reworded sentences.

Yoongi looks at his co-worker with a completely new perspective. It’s not a different person standing in front of him, but perhaps a view of the same person with more clarity. “What is he like?” Yoongi asks.

“We met when I was working in New York,” Seokjin explains. “He’s tall and smart, but so dumb, and I feel so stupid when I look at him,” he breathes, the small smile lighting up his face. “… I’ve never told anyone this before.”

“And you want to propose?”

Seokjin nods. “We’re finally stable now, so…it’s only right, isn’t it?”

Things fall into place so quickly it strikes Yoongi none-too-gently; the realization that Seokjin has this real genuine thing that he’s been trying to keep to himself, and he’s seeking answers from Yoongi’s lies. The proposal questions, the vulnerable ones about feelings and fears, all the things he had hoped Yoongi would know.

“I’m sorry.”

Seokjin looks up at that.

Yoongi bites his lip. “It's uh… marriage fraud.”

“What?”

“I signed the papers with my roommate so we could get marital benefits at work.”

Namjoon’s reaction back then was an immediate strike of disbelief. Seokjin is still, blinking rapidly as though he’s trying to piece everything together, and the anticipation of it makes Yoongi nervous. He watches Seokjin part his lips then close them again, looking away before looking back, then saying, “So youʼve been lying this whole time.”

It isn’t a question, just a blatant statement. Yoongi almost says yes before thinking back to everything he’s said to Seokjin and coming out short on lies. “No, not really,” he tells him. “Everything I told you was true.”

That gets a funny look from Seokjin, frowning as he sputters out half-words, not knowing what to ask first. “So— okay, I don’t think I’m getting this. Everything you said—you two are roommates and you got married to get marital benefits,” he states courtly. Yoongi nods. “But your feelings and what he means to you—they’re all true too?”

“...Yes.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin says his name in a solemn tone. He seems to fully understand now, but he’s gripping his temple like he’s just realized that he’s talking to a child. “You do know that if you two are legally married, there’s no fraud going on, right?”

That definitely isn’t what Yoongi expected him to say. “But–”

“But you claim to lie and make stuff up, sure,” Seokjin reads his mind and begins to lay it all out, “still not a fraud because you have it on paper that you’re married. It’s not like you need any proof that you’re in love. You live together, if you did get approved for marital benefits then that means you have a shared savings account and you pay rent collectively.” He pauses, waiting for Yoongi to get it, and groans when he still doesn’t before he concludes, “You’re not committing any kind of fraud. You’re just married.”

Itʼs fascinating how something so simple can bring with it a wave of revelation that heʼs never even thought about before. Him and Hoseok arenʼt conmen or criminals—just terribly stupid people who wanted to get married.

“If you really meant everything you’ve said about him,” Seokjin softens his tone, “then I think you should really look at this whole thing again.”

Coming home had never felt so daunting. Every step and shift of his weight as he walks toward the door is unstable and almost trembling, and something so obvious shouldn’t have him so shaken up.

Hoseok isn’t home yet, a window of time for Yoongi to get himself together. Has he trapped Hoseok here? Nothing is fake, no lies were told, no illusion is there to trick anyone. It’s just been them all this time, for almost a year at this point. When is their anniversary, even? Has he trapped Hoseok here?

Can Yoongi let him go?

To that, he settles on maybe not.

Hoseok comes back an hour later to music streaming from the living room. His face lights up, setting his bag down and walks in with a funny groove. “I haven’t listened to this in forever.”

Yoongi smiles at him. “I thought this was your favorite song.”

“Technically, it’s a song from my favorite movie,” Hoseok corrects him, belatedly noticing Yoongi’s attire. “Oh, you’re all dressed up. Going out for the weekend?”

“If you’re up for it, yeah.”

The bewildered look on Hoseok’s face makes him laugh. He gets the memo soon enough when he rushes to his room and re-emerges a while later dolled up and ready, no questions asked, not until they’re in the car. “What’s the occasion?”

“Anniversary,” Yoongi says simply. “...Probably. It should be around now.”

“It’s next week.”

The car comes to a sudden halt at a red light. “You remember when we got married?”

Hoseok chuckles. “I can’t forget something like that.”

Yoongi’s stomach churns but he ignores it as he drives. The reservation was last-minute, but it all worked out. They’ve had a handful of ‘fancy’ meals before with their newfound wealth, but it’s still rare enough for Hoseok to scan the entire place with wide eyes, spinning around to make sure he gets everything. “This place is insane.”

“I know it’s not exactly Kyoto or a honeymoon really,” Yoongi murmurs, “but maybe it’s better than sitting around at home.”

At that, Hoseok bumps his shoulder, smile so blinding Yoongi considers shielding his eyes. “Thank you, hyung. Seriously.”

Looking at him, Yoongi tries not to think too much about the fact that he’s seen this exact face for years, the spectrum of expressions it could pull, the details of it; sometimes he’d get a pimple right on his cheek, his face gets very oily after dinner, his mouth gets impossibly big when he laughs; all these elements he wouldn’t even say is his type. Even with all that said and acknowledged, he still can’t seem to look away simply because it’s Hoseok.

Hoseok, he doesn’t even know what that means, really. Perhaps it’s something beyond the physical, beyond romantic, more from the soul. Hoseok digs into his food carefully, tiny little bites one after another, trying to savor it. What will happen if he says it now? What will they become, if they are to change at all? He parts his lips, considers it, then changes his mind, but then Hoseok speaks. “Does this count as an anniversary dinner?”

“A week in advance, sure,” Yoongi says.

“Ah.” Hoseok suddenly turns to rummage through his bag. “Then now would be the time, I guess.” Yoongi catches the tremors in his voice that he’s trying to swallow down, and that only makes him more nervous.

The black velvet box sits on the table between them. It’s enough for Yoongi to know what’s going on, but Hoseok still hesitates, letting it sit there closed. “Maybe– we don’t have to.”

“No, come on,” Yoongi urges him. “What is it?”

Hoseok shoots him a playful glare, though he slowly lifts the box open. For a while, none of them say anything.

“Thought it was odd that we don’t have rings, so…” Hoseok trails off.

For what feels like the first time, Yoongi’s heart pounds in his chest. “Well.” He looks down at the two rings and extends his left hand. “Are we trying it on or what?” He notes the rose pink inner band, a stark contrast to the silver exterior. “How expensive was this, even? It’s hardcore.”

“Hardcore,” Hoseok laughs, carefully slipping the ring onto Yoongi’s finger. “I had some money set aside from the promotion, that’s all… do you like it?”

The ring sits strikingly on his pale finger, the sensation different from any other rings he’s worn before. The rose gold color can’t be seen now, hidden behind the silver like a secret. The other matching ring is cool beneath his fingertips as he takes it out of the box, reaching for Hoseok’s hand. “I know that this isn’t what you had in mind for yourself,” he says, “and maybe it’s stupid that you agreed to this, knowing how easily I change my mind about things, but…to me, this feels right, and I’ve never thought otherwise.” He slides the ring onto Hoseok’s finger. “Thanks for marrying me.”

And he’ll remember this smile to heart—the sweet curve of his mouth, the rise of his cheeks, his glazed over eyes glancing down at his hand before closing his fingers over Yoongi’s. “You’ve been a good husband.”

Yoongi squeezes his hand. “I do what I can.”

Their conversation flows all the way from the restaurant to the inside of their apartment where it then comes to a quiet as they look at each other. Hoseok pulls Yoongi into a hug then, and he stays like that until it feels like his heart is getting overfilled.

They’re still quiet as they pull back, still embracing each other, something vulnerable behind their lips. Yoongi gulps. “Do you wanna shower first?”

Hoseok’s chuckle comes out as a soft exhale. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

Yoongi wonders if this is how the day really ends, with him sitting on his bed, staring at the lockscreen of his phone until he hears the bathroom door unlock. He feels it so physically it’s almost terrifying. His heart thrums in his chest as he showers, looking at the ring, an implication of something so obvious. It doesn’t go away even as he’s dried and dressed himself and he eventually gives in to it.

The steps toward Hoseok’s room feel jumpy but careful. Nearing it now, he takes a deep breath in before reaching for the handle, though the door clicks open to a very startled Hoseok.

Yoongi stops in his tracks. “...Are you going to get something?”

Hoseok is still frozen before he sputters, “Uh, no, I…heard you come out. I thought you might want to sleep here.”

Yoongi gulps. “I…yeah.”

It’s true to an extent. It isn’t unusual anymore for Yoongi to set his pillow down next to Hoseok’s and to slip into bed together, though everything seems to ring so differently tonight as they face each other, lying down, looking at their rings.

Hoseok smiles at him. “What is it?”

“I…” Yoongi can’t do anything but look. You know, right? Please tell me you do.

Softly, Yoongi leans in to kiss him. It’s light; nothing more than the brushes of lips, nothing anyone would do to satisfy a physical need. He stays, feels Hoseok’s exhale on his cheek, lingering still as he pulls away. Hoseok is looking at him when he opens his eyes in this glazed-over awe. “You’re not drunk, are you?”

“No,” Hoseok whispers, then chuckles at the question, their noses brushing. “I’m not drunk.”

That thrumming feeling beneath Yoongi only grows as they kiss again, powered by Hoseok’s quiet groan when the kiss deepens, the hand tangled in his hair striking the urgent need to be as close to Hoseok as possible.

This is Hoseok, the thought brews itself in the back of his mind. This is home.

Hoseok lets out a soft gasp as Yoongi kisses up his jaw and drifts down his throat, feeling the tremors against his lips every time he makes a noise. His hands wander from his cheek to his shoulder, down his chest where it stays until they part, breathing heavily, feeling it on each other’s skin.

Hoseok’s eyes are distant and dazed, and something about it feels so overwhelming. He’s only realizing then that Yoongi’s ended up on top of him and laughs this quiet but embarrassed exhale. Looking at him like this feels so new. Hoseok smiles up at him. “Talk to me?"

“Can I take your shirt off?”

It makes Hoseok chuckle, and he can feel it on his lips from how close his face is. “Yeah, later. Talk to me first.”

“About what?” 

“What are we doing, hyung?”

“It’s just—” Yoongi stammers. “...Isn’t this how wedding anniversaries go?”

That gets a laugh out of Hoseok. “I guess.”

Yoongi feels dizzy. “So, yeah.. we’re doing that. If you want to.”

Hoseok’s smile widens the smallest bit. His hand shifts from Yoongi’s shoulder to his cheek and it makes Yoongi’s heart clench. “Okay.”

They fall into each other so easily that the thrill coursing through Yoongi after each touch isnʼt unlike the dip of a rollercoaster, going fast, too fast, yet unstoppable. They have seen each other like this so often that it had felt so neutral, but now each small brush of skin feels overwhelming yet insatiable. No fear; just want—desperate want, fingers tangling under fabric and hands clambering to pull everything off, the chill of air hitting them.

Thereʼs a shyness to Hoseok that heʼs never seen before, running his palms over his own thighs to his pelvis, parting his own legs as though he couldnʼt move them himself. His eyes are hazily fixed on Yoongiʼs. "This is crazy," he breathes. "...Who would've thought?"

Yoongi shakes his head. Not me. A hush falls upon them for a moment as he lightly runs his hand up Hoseok's calf, waiting until Hoseok blinks his eyes clear before pressing a small kiss to his knee. “What do you like?” he asks. “Talk to me.”

Though perhaps words fall short now that they're presented to each other in detail. Hoseok's hands move up Yoongi’s shoulders to his hair and guides him down. Here—and here—like that—gently.

There seems to be particular details that he likes, and Yoongi figures them out patiently, one after another, laving tongue and coaxing fingers that make him gasp, the combination of it making him shake. Yoongi didnʼt expect to be fascinated by it all, so focused on them to the point that pleasure strikes him in a flash as soon as they connect. Their hands reach for each other, fingers lacing together, the glow of the rings in the dim room.

He finds home in the crevice of Hoseok's neck, panting against dampened skin, one hand against the bed while the other reaches for Hoseok, kindled by the way each stroke earns a new sweet sound, how the heat rises lower down. He hears garbled versions of his name and unfinished sentences, feels hands scattering across his back to hold on and the tightening heat around him that only grows. Hoseok tugs at his hair until he looks up and their lips mash against each other too hard but the pain only spurs them on. Yoongi never knew that being kissed so deeply, so meaningfully, would make him so lightheaded.

Eventually, the sensation overpowers everything else, leaving them shuddering against each other, breathing each other in as they begin to lay still.

They do everything with barely a consciousness left—stumbling into the bathroom, wiping down with eyes half-open, falling back into bed. Yoongi reaches for him still, touching his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, trying to remember what it is he has to say.

“Hoseok,” he whispers, and falls asleep.

Yoongi stirs awake slowly when he feels his hair brush his face. He blinks his eyes open to delicate fingers trying to tuck them away from his vision. Hoseok looks embarrassed for a second before quirking a smile and brushing all his hair back down over his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asks him, trying to squint through his bangs.

He can vaguely see Hoseok shift around, hiding half his face in his pillow. “Like I’m dreaming.”

“Was I that good?”

That gets a loud laugh out of him, shaking the bed. It goes on for a while as Yoongi musters the strength to reach up and brush his own hair out of the way to see Hoseok’s wide smile. “Eh, you were fine– ah shit, my back,” he groans, completely fumbling his own joke as he lays rigid.

Yoongi humors him with a single sharp exhale out his nose. He takes in this morning view; Hoseok’s skin, a lot of it, nothing he hasn’t seen before, yet it’s so different now under the dim light coming through the curtains, the way he seems to glow.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, calming down a little, “you never played co-op with me on that game like you promised.”

Yoongi frowns. “When did I promise anything?”

Hoseok shoves him. “You did! Like a week ago when I bought it.”

“I swear you just made that up,” Yoongi murmurs, though he pushes himself up anyway. “But whatever. Breakfast first, though.”

“Yeah, you’ll need the energy to get your ass kicked.” Hoseok sits up too, and Yoongi has the decency not to stare as he gets up from the bed.

△

“I like your ring,” Taehyung comments.

Yoongi looks down at it like he’s just remembered it exists. “It’s simple.”

Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment meets pretty much all expectations of two young men living together. The bookshelf with maybe two novels and many more figurines is tidy and untouched, while the couch has a suspicious shirt draped over the back and a half-full water bottle propped up in front of the TV. Yoongi has rarely stopped by their place, never without Hoseok like this, though he saw Jungkook press a kiss to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth before leaving the apartment and he had to ask.

“He’s getting more and more brazen these days,” Taehyung says, smiling helplessly as he does.

Yoongi leans back into the couch, though curls away once he touches the shirt. “Took you long enough.” They’ve been an unnecessary mystery this whole time, from his perspective. It all seems so tangled up when it absolutely doesn’t have to be. Even with this revelation, however, even with the outcome as obvious as this, he still doesn’t feel the full clarity he expected, then he recalls; “What about Jimin? Did you lay him down okay?”

“We’re dating too.”

It comes out so casually that it takes Yoongi a while to fully compute, adding two and two together. “So…you’re all dating? The three of you?”

“Yup.”

“Since when?”

“Last week.”

“Huh…” he trails off. “I see.”

Taehyung glances at him. “You’re making it sound weirder than it is.”

“I don’t find it weird, I just…” Yoongi tries to gather his words but fails. “I didn’t expect this, but at the same time it sounds right.”

“Well,” Taehyung considers that poorly-worded explanation, “maybe you’re just not good at foreseeing things.”

That gets Yoongi, and he yields. “Right. Maybe I’m not. You can have that. I’m starting to realize that I’m wrong about a lot of things.” And now there’s no need to dance around this weird topic anymore, he realizes. “So what happened?”

Taehyung smirks. “What didn’t happen? Jungkook caved first, then me, then we were super nervous about Jimin for a few days before we confronted him and the miracle happened.”

“A miracle? That a guy you like likes you back?”

“That both of the guys I like like me back. I’ve never done this before,” Taehyung says, and it’s the first time he sounds nervous. “I’d never been that conflicted before, like I was relearning everything I knew about myself, trying to understand why I felt the way I did around Jimin but still couldn’t let Jungkook go. It wasn’t even jealousy when I saw Jungkook with him, it was…” He bites his lip. “Like I wanted to be there too. I didn’t want them to leave me behind.”

The sad confession gives a clearer insight into what was going on between the three of them, how nervous they were of sounding crazy when they were all going through the same thing. “At least you’re all here now,” Yoongi says, “at least it’s all cleared up.”

Taehyung drags a finger across his lips, processing it before he huffs out a laugh. “‘Cleared up’ makes it sound so…final. It’s not the end of something.”

“It’s a start,” Yoongi adds.

“It’s not even that,” Taehyung rebuts. “I still feel like I don’t know everything, and I realized living has always been like that, just question after question. I’ll never know a damn thing for as long as I live.”

“...What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, and neither do you.” He points at Yoongi, and it feels more personal than it should be. “You were right when you said we’re confusing, and that we should be honest, but it was hard when we were confused. And then I realized that well… everyone is. All the time.”

Yoongi frowns. “...And you’re okay with that? Being confused?”

Taehyung nods. “We just have to learn to be okay with not knowing. I’m happy, first and foremost. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that, but Taehyung keeps explaining anyway. “Maybe the answers to these questions don’t even matter; maybe it’s everything I did trying to find it. Why do I feel this way? Do I want him or him? Or am I just lonely? Why am I being pulled apart trying to choose?” He clenches his hands into fists, almost frustrated with himself for not coming to this understanding sooner. “All this when it’s just…something’s going to happen, and maybe it’s not completely up to me. Why can’t I just let it happen without stressing over it? Maybe that’s how we’re supposed to live. So I guess…” he laughs. “I let it happen, and here we are. It happened, just like that.”

As confusing as that is, Yoongi picks up bits and pieces of what Taehyung is trying to say. He thinks about Hoseok, about this marriage that is just a marriage and nothing more. He never knew what was going to happen, really, and more things have gone wrong than right with their plan. Hoseok is still here though, probably not knowing a damn thing either, and they’re both okay with it because—

“I tolerate you, and you tolerate me,” Yoongi whispers, knowing now what he really meant.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, not questioning it. “That’s one way to put it.”

On the night of their actual anniversary, they stay in to cook together. A point Hoseok likes to make ever since they signed the papers is how he’ll go to sleep every night with a full belly with Yoongi around. He doesn’t think he’s a spectacular cook; Hoseok just likes to give a big reaction whenever he’s fed anything straight from the pan to taste. Now is no different as he ups the theatrics, expressing with his whole body to make Yoongi laugh. “That should be good enough.”

Dinner goes by like usual; complaints about work, insufferable clients, if they have enough food to save the grocery shopping trip to the weekend. Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been overthinking everything like he thought he’d be. Life now is good and enough, though there is one thing he’s been mulling over still.

As they wash the dishes together, Yoongi asks Hoseok, “Do you think you love me?”

Hoseok scrubs away at a plate “Hm? What do you mean?” He doesn’t seem too taken aback by the question. “You’re great. ‘Course I love you,” he answers easily, and Yoongi catches on that maybe they don’t have the same idea in mind right now. “Do you love me?”

“I feel like I could, yeah.”

That’s all it takes for Hoseok to catch on too. Slowly, he rinses the plate and sets it on the drying rack. Carefully, he asks, “...You think so?”

Yoongi stares down at his hands. “I don’t know for sure, but I think it might be this.” He sounds too uncertain so he shakes his head, clearing his mind. “No, yeah. I do.”

Hoseok is wordless for a while, though Yoongi waits. “Where is this coming from, hyung?”

Yoongi doesn’t really know how to answer that. “It’s just…how things are, right? Just how we are. There wasn’t a sudden moment that started everything, it’s…” He breathes. “It’s always been like this, hasn’t it?”

“I mean—” Hoseok has a difficult look on his face, and maybe this is when Yoongi should start worrying. “You’ve never said anything like this before.”

“No,” Yoongi agrees.

“Hyung…” Hoseok whispers in that soft way where he’s trying to hide things while still being honest. “It’s late. I’m not saying that you’re not thinking straight or something, but just…” He sighs. “Should we get some sleep? Talk about this again tomorrow? Just in case this changes.”

He isn’t wrong, Yoongi knows that. What will happen to them in the morning now that this is out? Will it be the exact same or irreversibly different? Will Yoongi wake up and actually change his mind? “I don’t know if it’ll be different tomorrow morning,” he says, “but this is how I feel right now.”

It takes a while for Hoseok to say anything. They continue washing the dishes until everything is cleared up and put away. Hoseok wipes his hands dry and fumbles with his shirt. “Do you really mean it?”

“I get why you’re worried,” Yoongi tells him, softening his voice. “I change my mind all the time, but never with you, so please believe me when I say that…even just for tonight, I love you. And I’ll wait to see if I still do in the morning.”

Maybe this will all be gone tomorrow. The end could be looming over them right now. Yoongi doesn’t know if he’ll be sad if that happens, but the thought definitely doesn’t feel nice. Maybe it’s bad to always feel so unsure, maybe it’s best to never know anything, like Taehyung said, to fall into life without question and see where it takes him.

All he knows now is that Hoseok is smiling, and that’s enough. For a second he leans in but then hesitates, not used to initiating. It makes Hoseok chuckle. “Why are you shy now?” He reaches for Yoongi easily, pulling him closer to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Goodnight, hyung.”

In bed, Yoongi thinks about everything and nothing at the same time. Thoughts leave as soon as they form about Hoseok, about them, every time they’ve looked at each other and every time Yoongi has thought about reaching for him and pulling away last-minute. From first year dorms to apartments, to getting married at 12pm on a Sunday, he always chose Hoseok, or they chose each other. Why would he want anyone else? No one else will listen to his rant as well as Hoseok or do his part of the chores so diligently. No one else would cuddle him in bed without questioning it or trust him enough to dive head-first into the waters of uncertainty, having no clue how deep they’ll go. No one else is Hoseok.

He loves Hoseok in such an embarrassing way, he realizes. This facade they’ve built up is a real physical thing they’ve ingrained into themselves, and the easy way they speak of this love is not owed to lies, but how blatant it is in their minds, yet it’s only come to the forefront of Yoongi’s now. This humiliating love for Jung Hoseok—his husband.

Come morning, Hoseok still smiles at him in the kitchen as he quietly makes coffee. He observes Yoongi for a while before speaking. “Have you always poured boiling hot water straight in?”

Yoongi holds the kettle mid-air. “...Am I not supposed to?”

There’s a funny look on Hoseok’s face as he grabs the bag of coffee grounds. “Have you ever read the instructions for this thing? You’re supposed to use hot water or your coffee is bitter.”

It’s printed out very clearly with illustrations labeling the water temperature. Hot, not boiled. “...What?”

“Boiling water makes the grounds extract too much, so it’d be super bitter,” Hoseok explains, a laugh escaping him as he does. “You seriously didn’t know? You’ve been drinking this since first year!”

“No, what the hell?” Yoongi is bewildered, setting the kettle back down as Hoseok continues to cackle at his expense.

The coffee doesn’t burn his tongue this time, and the taste is infinitely different from every other morning. Hoseok is still smiling at him through his mug, and then comes the question, “Do you still…”

Yoongi knows, and he nods. “Yeah, I think I do.” Though it isn’t like anything changed; he’s always felt this way. “Maybe I always have. Maybe that’s why I was okay with marrying you.”

Hoseok is quiet but then he chuckles. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Fumbling with his now empty cup, the aroma still dancing through the air, Yoongi asks, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Hoseok whispers, then he says it a little louder, “It feels good to be loved. A little bit surreal, still, but good.” Then his eyes begin to wander, contemplating a question. “Can you say it again?”

Yoongi waits until their eyes meet. “I love you, Hoseok.”

The awestruck look on Hoseok’s face makes this moment more profound than it is; the 30-minute window before they have to leave for work, a conversation and breakthrough about coffee, and now this. He tries to joke, “Did that sound genuine?”

Hoseokʼs gaze breaks into a laugh. “Yeah, I braced myself for it and it still caught me off-guard.”

Perhaps the most wonderful thing about this is how happy Yoongi could make Hoseok, that he has it in him to make Hoseok smile so unapologetically, to hold him close, swaying around lightly until it’s time to leave.

“Have fun at work, hyung,” Hoseok says as he lets Yoongi go. “I love you, too.”

△

The phone calls to their parents were the most nerve-wracking minutes of their lives. It felt weird to rehearse and get their story straight, as though they were still some criminals corroborating a story prior to being interrogated separately. The nerves that were never present the day they signed the papers were there in their jittery hands, the both of them almost flinching as soon as they heard Yoongi’s father’s sudden cry. Word got out so quickly that questions began to pour in from everywhere and it was the first time they had felt so put on the spot ever since the start of this whole debacle.

After that came the undeniably more fun part. A week with just each other in a place where no one knew them was far more incredible than Yoongi had ever hoped. There were times when it felt like a newly-budded relationship, going around Kyoto as an actual couple; holding hands, kissing for a photo, tackling each other into fresh sheets at the end of the day and shaving together in the bathroom the morning after. This catharsis was owed to the late but great revelation of what they are to each other, to relish in a copious amount of what they could’ve had years ago if they weren’t so stupid, or so he thought. Hoseok didn’t particularly agree with this.

“Everything clicked at the right time,” he insisted, punctuating every syllable into Yoongi’s skin. “This would’ve been the only way for it to happen. This is a celebration.” There was more to what he said, but his lips became too occupied to continue and Yoongi was too far gone to listen. Returning to their mundane routines after that felt like a punishment even though they did nothing wrong.

No wedding, they had agreed, much to the dismay of Hoseok’s parents who even went as far as offering their own money, which Yoongi vehemently denied. Hoseok’s father was particularly upset. “It’s just not fair,” he blubbered childishly. “And your folks are okay with this, Yoongi?”

“They are,” Yoongi affirmed. “It’s really not our priority right now.”

“We’ve been trying to save up as much as possible,” Hoseok supplied.

“For the honeymoon you two went on? A honeymoon costs nowhere near a wedding.”

They looked at each other, mentally nudging one another to say it. Yoongi lost. “It wasn’t just for the honeymoon…”

On his work days, Yoongi would wake up at 5:30am, or 6:00am if it’s not his turn that morning.

The most important thing is breakfast. He reheats leftover rice while mashing up carrots to whisk them into eggs; it’s not his most pristine menu, but it’s definitely one of the quicker ones with the least fuss.

He hears Hoseok’s usual chatter down the hallway just as he’s finishing up, and wonders how and when their morning greetings have turned into useless banter. “That has to be your wildest bedhead yet.”

“Love you too,” Yoongi quips before quietly smoothing his hair down, changing the subject as he slides the bowl over the table. “See if she’ll like this better. No greens.”

Hoseok chuckles, sliding out a chair and digging out a small piece with a spoon. “We’ll see. She’s a tough critic.”

While he’s busy with that, Yoongi finally gets to wake himself up as he washes up and changes. He returns to a half-eaten bowl— a slight improvement— and a cup of coffee waiting for him.

Hoseok slips past him down the hallway with a gentle grasp of his shoulder, murmuring, “It’s a bad hair day for everyone today.”

Yoongi takes this moment alone with her to sip his coffee and observe. She has a firmer grip on her cutlery now, though she still chews like she’s agreed to do it but hates every second of it. They still don’t know how this came about; there are a few hypotheses based on her family’s history and the food they saw at the institution, but it’s been a year-long (and still counting) process of finding out what she likes, what she can handle, and gradually easing her into food.

“Is it not good, Jiwon?” Yoongi asks, and deflates when he’s met with a prompt shake of the head. “Gosh, you humble me.” He sits down next to her, taking a bite of the leftover breakfast, which is decent at worst. “You won’t get better egg rolls than this out there, you know,” he warns playfully as he spoons more food, presenting it to her. “Come on,” he wheedles pitifully, “one more for your poor old dad.”

Jiwon has generously accepted three more bites by the time Hoseok returns with a comb and hair bands. “She just wants you to feed her,” he jokes, though his face quickly tenses up as he concentrates on parting Jiwon’s hair down the middle.

Someone messes with their doorbell, ringing it repeatedly to some annoying rhythm. Yoongi turns to Hoseok, who has his fingers tangled in three different strands of hair and a rubber band between his lips, and gets up to the door. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to pick up my daughter.”

The response gets a laugh out of Hoseok like it always does. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he opens the door. “You’re gonna confuse her.”

“It’s true,” Jimin insists, presenting himself grandly. “Park Jiwon! Time for daycare!”

“You’re literally from different Park clans,” Yoongi argues, following him back into the kitchen. Jimin already has her in his arms, bouncing around, her neatly done braids flailing behind her. Yoongi considers lecturing him about not throwing her around right after eating but is still trying to beat his overbearing dad allegations, so he just watches.

To balance them out, Hoseok has taken on his Chill Dad role quite well, excitedly filming the two of them with his phone. “You look like such a chic dad right now. Look here, Jiwon! Look, look,” he chirps, repeating himself until she turns. “Say hi to grandma.”

Jimin now has her attached at the hip, holding her hand out like they’re waltzing. “What time’s the wedding again?”

“Six,” Yoongi tells him, clearing up the table. “We come back from work at five so she’ll be at your place for an hour. Is that okay?”

“Fine with me.” Jimin sets her down, smoothing out his shirt. “Taehyungie is home the whole day, and I think Jungkook has a class this afternoon but he should be done before five. We’ll keep her company. Ready to go?”

They wave goodbye to Jiwon who diligently holds two of Jimin’s fingers, standing there until the door closes behind her. In the silence that follows, they turn to look at each other. Wordlessly, Hoseok pecks him on the lips, providing no explanation as he goes to grab his bag with a menacing grin on his face like he’s just done something sneaky. Loser.

Work is quiet without Seokjin that day and time seems to run slower than usual, though he powers on until he gets to promptly gather his things and leave. Back at the apartment, he picks up Jiwon from next door and gets her changed into a dress Hoseok chose before pulling on his suit.

“Dad.”

It’s been over a year since the day they brought Jiwon home, even longer since their tough ordeal of wading through paperwork and compiling documents to qualify for it. Even through all that, the word still makes Yoongi a little too emotional than he’d like to admit. He smooths out the folds of her skirt. “Yes?”

Jiwon is still tackling the hard task of forming comprehensible sentences, but she points at something behind Yoongi’s shoulder. He turns to see the old photo hung on the wall. Their smiles seem so stiff there, though neither he nor Hoseok ever mustered up the courage to take it down. It still serves its purpose anyway. “That’s me,” he confirms, looking down at the same suit he’s wearing now. “And Papa.”

Days pile on one after another, separated only by the smallest variances in their otherwise identical details. Yoongi gets up at the same time, works the same hours doing the same thing, yet it doesn’t feel like a cyclical trap that he can’t escape. With his daughter now in a little chiffon dress and just the thought of Hoseok, Yoongi learns that true contentment is to live a life graced by beautiful things.

The venue is bigger than Yoongi expected. He didn’t even imagine that Seokjin would be able to afford all of this. The hotel itself is huge, and the journey up the elevator takes a while before it finally reaches the rooftop. He doesn’t see Seokjin anywhere but runs into a handful of his co-workers who coo over his slightly terrified daughter. Hoseok has to carry her away to a quieter spot once she gets overwhelmed.

Yoongi spots someone behind one of his co-workers’ shoulders and quickly excuses himself.

“If it isn’t the other lucky groom,” he greets, smiling at the self-conscious way the other man turns around. “Nervous?”

“Can’t help it,” he says. “Jin hyung’s been kinda on edge ever since this morning and it’s rubbing off on me. You know how he likes to keep his secret. This was like his biggest one yet and pretty much everyone we’ve ever met knows now.”

The panicked word vomit makes Yoongi smile. “You kept that secret well too, Kim Namjoon.”

Namjoon lets out a flustered chuckle, rubbing the back of his ear. “This is silly, but it still feels like back then somehow, you know?...like I still have a crush on him or something.”

“It is silly,” Yoongi agrees. “But I get it.”

That makes Namjoon smile. “How about you two? No plans for a wedding still?”

“I think we’re way past that now,” Yoongi murmurs. “Not like we hate weddings. It’s just not the point. We’ll need to spend a lot on Jiwon anyway. Don't have that kind of money just lying around anymore.”

“Gosh, Jiwon…” Namjoon says her name airily like he’s reminiscing an idea that has yet to happen. “It’s no easy task, I imagine.”

“We wanted an older kid just so there’d be less work, but it just had to be her.” The memory comes to him easily, the first time they saw her in the playroom, two years old, keeping to herself in a corner away from the commotion of other toddlers. “She has a talent for being quiet and still wearing us out.”

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow. “Great benefits though?”

“Oh yeah,” Yoongi answers so fast that Namjoon laughs. “Shorter work hours, higher pay, more insurance. That girl is a gem. It's taking longer for her to get adjusted than we expected, but she's sweet,” he muses. “No way in hell we're getting another one though.”

Yoongi still can’t fully wrap his head around how Seokjin is a horrible liar but has managed to keep so many details about his life private for so long. If he has to guess, it’d be due to how flustered Seokjin gets about anything related to him. That, and how nerve-wracking just the thought of proposing to someone is.

“It took longer than I expected, but I like to think that I got the timing just right in the end,” Seokjin says once Yoongi manages to track him down in a dressing room. “I panicked a little back then and rushed into it. We did long-distance for a while and he was finally coming back, on top of meeting up with his ex who he dated for years, I was just desperate to hold onto him. Now is good though.” He looks at Yoongi. “Thank you.”

It feels wrong to hear that. “I don't think I gave you anything helpful,” Yoongi says.

“You'd be surprised how useful the technical stuff you told me were,” Seokjin muses, “but more importantly, seeing you and Hoseok kinda gave me clarity on what I really want.” This, he says so genuinely Yoongi doesn’t know where to look. What did they look like? What about it is so profound that it would inspire someone? “I've been so scared of telling people but I saw the two of you and I wanted that,” Seokjin confesses. “I wanted to love him proudly.”

To love him proudly.

Yoongi supposes that that’s one way to describe him and Hoseok. It’s come to the point where Hoseok is his default; life as it is, is him, poets would say. He’s always there, and finding him is like flipping through the pages of a book he’s already read, eyes scattering and searching for that one sentence that had touched him so deeply but can’t recall how the words are arranged for it to make him feel the way he did, hoping that he’ll feel it again. And, like Hoseok, they’re easy to find among a page full of letters. His eyes would somehow land on them like an unconscious memory of its exact place. He only has to turn his head to find Hoseok sitting at a small table, Jiwon already asleep on his lap.

Hoseok smiles when Yoongi comes up to stand next to him. “Long time no see,” he teases, shifting Jiwon slightly so that her head is resting comfortably on his shoulder. “Do you think she'll have the energy to shower for bed later?”

Yoongi shrugs. “She might grace us with such a service. Or hold a grudge.” It always feels like a bit of a gamble, though he doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think she’s happy?”

Hoseok looks up at the question, then back down at their daughter. “I think she’s happier,” he says. “Still wish we could have more time with her each day, honestly. Wish we could see her at daycare and watch her clean an entire plate, but I like to think that we’re getting there, and that she’s happier than before.”

Yoongi looks at Jiwon’s sleeping face, then Hoseok’s awake one. “And is this what you wanted?”

Hoseok smiles. “It’s everything.”

From afar, Seokjin is trying to tell Namjoon something and ends up having to yell into his ear. A photographer pops up out of nowhere to snap a photo of that incident, leaving Seokjin flustered and Namjoon incredibly fond, pointing out his red ears.

“Are we like that?” Hoseok murmurs, eyes fixed on them.

“Embarrassing? Hope not.” It makes Hoseok laugh hard, edging onto a cackle that quickly dies down when Jiwon suddenly stirs awake.

The same photographer from before approaches just as they’re about to leave, and the evening ends with a new family photo.

They had anticipated leaving just after the ceremony, but Jiwon being able to hold out until halfway through reception is an unexpected improvement. She’s growing everyday, though gradually, speaking more and communicating her needs better, when she needs attention and when she’s at her limit.

“You’ve had a long day,” Yoongi whispers, pulling her blanket up to her chin. “How strong you are.”

“Dad,” she mumbles.

Yoongi smiles. “Yes?” Though she makes no move to say anything. Sometimes Jiwon doesn’t know enough words to express what she wants to say, other times she just likes to say dad.

They have the rest of their lives together. He takes her little hands into his. “It's okay to still be scared,” he whispers, stroking her hair. “I am, too. But we'll go through it together, okay?” he promises her. “We'll be here. Always.”

“Okay.”

“Sweet girl.” He kisses her hand before quietly slipping out of the room.

He looks at the state of the apartment; the bookshelf and couch has been pushed to make room in the corner where Jiwon used to waddle around when they first got her. It’s become her area, with misplaced toys and picture books.

A weight settles onto Yoongi’s back, and he lets arms wrap around his middle, though not without complaint. “You’re heavy.”

“Someone had to clean up Jiwon’s leftovers,” Hoseok argues, grumbling childishly when Yoongi tries to wiggle away. “Let me love you.” Eventually, Yoongi gives in, and Hoseok smacks a kiss to his cheek. “How was it for you today?”

“The wedding was cool and they looked happy. I had fun,” Yoongi says simply. He feels it in Hoseok’s hold now, somehow, and from the awestruck yet melancholic look he had at the wedding, that maybe it’s something that’s still on his mind. Yoongi touches his arm. “A wedding’s not off the table, you know that right? Just say the word and we’ll do it.”

Hoseok hums. “Jiwon would make a cute flower girl.” He tightens his hold. “I don’t need a wedding. Just this is enough.” He says it genuinely, like he knows of Yoongi’s worries and is trying to sooth them quietly, like these spoken words are only part of the conversation they have through their minds, just from feeling each other.

“We’ll keep doing just this then,” Yoongi says.

If this is what you want, then it shall be this. And perhaps that has a power stronger than just I love you.

“Yeah,” Hoseok whispers. “Thanks for being around, hyung.”

Life isn’t a continuous mundane obstacle course they have to bear and survive each day, Yoongi learns. A perfect life isn’t one void of struggles and dullness either, but rather one with happiness in spite of hardships. Perfection can be the neutrality of flaws, and love can be as simple as co-existence, the serenity of having enough and feeling like it is everything.

Yoongi turns in his hold and lets this serene reality set within him as they kiss. “You're everything.”