7-you had me
"we're going christmas shopping," taehyung announces, poking his head into yoongi and jungkook's bedroom. "wanna come?"
"i'd rather cut all of my fingers off one by one with a rusty pen knife," yoongi replies calmly.
"alrighty then," taehyung says and leaves.
yoongi is not sure who taehyung meant by "we", but he assumes it's pretty much everyone, and it doesn't matter, anyway. he hates christmas shopping. christmas shopping with this bunch, specifically, is chaos. he loves them, but he'd rather not break up another fight between jimin and the mall santa. it's not that he trusts them to stay alive and out of trouble without him; it's that he knows his presence wouldn't make any difference.
the incident with the mall santa was last year. the year before that, hoseok nearly got arrested for public indecency after getting too into a dance battle with a street artist and taking off most of his clothes in the middle of the mall. seokjin managed to sweet talk their way out of it, and yoongi was both impressed by and slightly terrified of the power he possesses in situations like that. the year before that, namjoon got into a heated argument with some american tourist making racist comments in the line at a store. the rest of them obviously tried to back him up with their limited english and some universal hand gestures, and all of them got removed by mall security.
yoongi's actually not entirely sure they're allowed at the mall anymore. he supposes the others will find out today.
he writes on his bed for a while, then wanders downstairs for something to drink; finds jungkook at the kitchen table, drawing. his heart jumps a little bit, and if it's because he thought he was alone or because of how jungkook looks in the soft, greyish daylight through the stained window, comfortable in sweatpants and a baggy sweater, his hair fluffy and tousled, yoongi's not sure. it's probably both.
"i thought you went with them," he says, and busies himself with the water bottle he digs out of the fridge.
jungkook bites at his lip.
"nah. i don't like shopping. well, shopping is fine, i guess, but i don't like crowds. and this is my chance to try to come up with a christmas present for you guys."
yoongi draws the chair across from jungkook, and sits down.
"you know you don't have to get us anything," he says, raising an eyebrow, knowing full well jungkook's not going to listen to him.
jungkook, hands on the sketchbook in front of him, possibly to prevent yoongi from seeing his sketches, drums slender fingers against the page lightly.
"you've done so much for me," he says, eyes cast down; yoongi can't help but stare, once again, the water bottle forgotten on his lips. "i'm not sure where i'd be if i hadn't met you guys. i'm... really grateful and i want to... show it somehow, get you something."
yoongi sets the bottle down and leans forward. he reaches a hand across the table, taps a finger against the sketchbook just beside jungkook's hand to make him look up.
"hey." it works. jungkook meets his eyes. "stop feeling like you owe us something."
that didn't come out right. he can't tell jungkook how to feel. yoongi scrunches up his nose a little bit. tries again.
"i mean... you don't owe us anything. you never did. no one's thinking you're not grateful. but... we asked you to move in because we wanted to have you, not because we were doing a favor. we're all on equal footing here. okay?"
he sees jungkook swallow. a smile pulls at his lips.
"okay," he says, and yoongi really hopes he believes him. "i'm still going to get you something, though."
yoongi huffs out a laugh, folds his arms on the table.
"stubborn."
jungkook grins wider.
"yup." he twirls the pencil in his hand, looks back down. the way he alternates between confident and shy is endlessly fascinating to yoongi. "it's not going to be much, anyway. i don't have the money, so... just art, again."
"unique, beautiful artwork from an incredibly talented artist," yoongi feigns a scoff, "yeah, what a shit present."
jungkook looks up, his smile melting into something soft. yoongi's heart is doing something weird, but he's gotten relatively good at not letting it show. he toes at jungkook's foot under the table.
"i'm serious. you're highly underestimating how much we love your art." jungkook is looking down at his sketchbook, toying with the pencil and smiling absentmindedly. yoongi remembers, suddenly, how jungkook once said, i want to be enough, and tells him, on a whim, "it's more than enough."
jungkook blinks at him, the look on his face unreadable. he doesn't say anything, but gives yoongi a smile; small, but genuine.
we're alone at the house, yoongi thinks distantly. he's not sure when the last time was; there are seven of them, for god's sake, there's usually always someone. usually when he thinks they're alone, fucking hoseok walks out of the bedroom in his boxer shorts, or taehyung starts pounding at their door demanding they come watch a movie with him.
being alone with jungkook is always easy. yoongi comes back to that night they met, sometimes, and thinks about how it was easy already back then; how it was easy talking with him and being quiet with him, how jungkook made him feel a sense of calm. it may be weird and contradictory, considering all the not-so-calm things he makes yoongi feel, but then again, jungkook is full of contradictions himself and yoongi is full of jumbled up feelings when it comes to him. that has never kept him from enjoying jungkook's company.
but lately there's been this tension, a pressure in his chest, like electricity just beneath his skin and in the air between them, and it's not just yoongi; it's in the way jungkook looks at him like he's trying to tell him something without actually saying anything, it's in the way he knows they both remember jungkook promised i'll tell you later.
now seems like a good time for later. and yoongi wants to ask. he almost does; that might've been the next thing to come out of his mouth, had his phone not started blasting ginuwine's pony, his custom ringtone for jimin that jimin himself set and that yoongi's been meaning to set to something else.
"neither of you looks at your damn messages," jimin says before yoongi's even gotten a word in, "typical."
"what is it," yoongi asks flatly. jungkook raises his eyebrows, listening in quietly. jimin's not on speakerphone, but he tends to be loud. "everything okay?"
"yeah, now," jimin says. he doesn't sound like anything's wrong, doesn't even sound like he's genuinely upset with yoongi. "i just wanted to let you know, in case you were worried, which you clearly weren't, that everything's good now. we found hoseok and namjoon's not on fire anymore."
"oh, jesus," yoongi mumbles and slouches against the table. it's only been a couple of hours, too. jungkook's shoulders shake with inaudible laughter. it makes the corner of yoongi's mouth quirk.
"how are things over there?" jimin asks. "i assume you guys have been busy with something else since you haven't been checking your messages. have you..." jimin trails off, and yoongi stares at a table corner blankly for a moment before realizing jimin's probably waggling his eyebrows right now, having forgotten yoongi can't actually see him.
"goodbye, jimin," yoongi says, and ignores jimin's protests. "this goes for all of you, but try to get home in one piece." then he decides that's definitely too much to ask. "try not to die."
"we'll see," jimin answers, "try not to break the entire house when you and jungkook finally fuck each other's br-"
yoongi's never hung up faster. he stares at the phone in his hand for a while. wonders if jungkook caught that. the other is silent on the other side of the table, which tells him he might've. yoongi really hopes jimin will make it through the shopping trip alive so yoongi can strangle him with his own two hands.
"are you hungry?" he asks finally, doesn't care how clumsy the change of subject, and looks up. jungkook was already looking at him. the younger blinks, a light pink high on his cheeks. then he nods quickly. "good. chinese okay?"
/
"hyung," jungkook says, "i want to sing for you."
the others have been gone for five hours total, and when yoongi typed you good? in the group chat to check in on them, taehyung responded with a picture of all five of them stuffed into a dressing room at some clothing store, jimin mostly undressed and looking very distressed.
they ordered in and ate in the kitchen, chatting about everything that wasn't jimin's last comment on the phone; they cleaned up, jungkook went back to drawing and yoongi went back to writing but on the couch instead of the bedroom because he finds jungkook's presence nice, helpful, even; finds it nice that he can glance into the kitchen and see jungkook sketching at the table, comfy and focused, in his element.
a while ago, jungkook padded over to the couch, asked, can i; yoongi said, of course, and jungkook nestled into the corner of the couch with his sketchbook, and both of them continued working like that. we're alone crossed yoongi's mind again like it was somehow relevant. it took a while to be able to fully concentrate on his lyrics again, but the scratch of jungkook's pencil on paper and the occasional soft humming under his breath were like background music, the kind experts tell you to listen to when you need to focus. otherwise they were quiet, until.
yoongi stops what he's doing and looks at jungkook. the younger is sitting cross-legged, the sketchbook laid out on his lap, though yoongi supposes he hasn't actually been drawing for a while now. there's a hint of nervousness about him, but his eyes are determined, and yoongi feels his heart thud. he swallows.
"you want to?"
jungkook nods carefully.
"you did ask me, and i still haven't."
yoongi hums.
"do you want to... the piano?"
"yeah."
they get up, and yoongi feels inexplicably nervous as they cross the room to the piano. it could be the way jungkook said i want to sing for you. it feels like a big deal, somehow. it could be the thing yoongi said to namjoon earlier. about him possibly being unable to stop himself from kissing jungkook. yeah, it's probably that.
yoongi sits down on the stool and licks his lips.
"what do you want me to play?"
jungkook hesitates. then he sits down next to yoongi, and god, this is going to kill him, isn't it? the stool isn't wide, their thighs and shoulders are pressed together even when yoongi moves to make more room. he tries to appear composed.
"that song you played for me the night we met," jungkook says slowly, "namjoon-hyung told me it has lyrics."
fucking namjoon. when the fuck did he tell jungkook that? he certainly neglected to mention this to yoongi.
"it does," yoongi agrees, "but no one's ever sung them."
the tip of jungkook's tongue darts out to wet his lips. he looks at the keyboard, long eyelashes cast downward, and then he looks at yoongi.
"would you mind if i was the first one?"
namjoon's going to be partially responsible when yoongi dies right here on the piano. he's going to make sure from afterlife that namjoon's held accountable.
"do you know the words?" yoongi manages.
"namjoon-hyung showed me." there's a faint flush on his cheeks. "they are good lyrics. i memorized them."
"alright," yoongi says, even though it's far from alright. jungkook is warm against him, but yoongi already knew he's like a damn human furnace from sleeping in the same bed with him. yoongi positions his fingers on the keys. his hands aren't shaking. that's applaudable. "if you're ready."
jungkook hums softly, and yoongi starts the melody he played the night they first met, then played again the first time jungkook came to watch him perform. it's a song without an official title, though unofficially he calls it i need you. it used to be about the things he felt when kihyun left him, but it feels like the song has another meaning, now. with jungkook, it has another meaning. before, it was: how could you leave me. now it's: please don't ever leave me.
jungkook opens his mouth and sings, and yoongi thinks: oh. thinks, this is how the song was supposed to sound all along.
jungkook sings yoongi's words, and yoongi thinks, don't ever leave don't ever leave.
he was right about jungkook being a good singer. his voice is velvety smooth like a river flowing, soft and breathy. they... sound good together. yoongi's teeth dig into his lower lip. his fingers shift on the keys entirely out of muscle memory. he's more focused on jungkook's voice than playing. finally, he chances a look to his left; jungkook has his eyes closed, his head slightly tilted. yoongi shouldn't have looked, because now he can't stop. jungkook sings like he's feeling what yoongi feels.
the song is not over, but yoongi's fingers on the keys come to a halt. the prolonged note echoes in the empty house. jungkook opens his eyes, turns his face to yoongi. he doesn't even look surprised that yoongi stopped playing, or that he's staring like he's seeing a god's angel or something.
"i heard what you said to namjoon," jungkook says, barely louder than a whisper, and yoongi swears his heart stops for a couple of seconds. "not the whole conversation, but the part about - about being afraid to ask me to sing because you might kiss me."
yoongi releases the breath he was apparently holding.
"is that what you -" is that what you've been meaning to tell me, he means, but he never finishes.
"yes," jungkook breathes quickly, angles his upper body towards yoongi. they are so fucking close. jungkook catches his bottom lip between his teeth briefly, releases it. "i was hoping that you would. kiss me."
yoongi is pretty sure he was going to say something else, but all that comes out is a quiet groan.
jungkook moves first. yoongi's hands are still on the keys. jungkook doesn't have to lean far to ghost his lips over yoongi's. yoongi's eyes flutter closed, and then jungkook's mouth is on his. soft, tentative. like last time, yoongi's lips part automatically.
jungkook kisses him softly for a few seconds before pulling back. yoongi's mind swims, again. jungkook seems to have that effect on him. he opens his eyes, thinks, jesus. jungkook is looking at him like he looked at yoongi in the parking lot, in the alley: like yoongi is the only thing he sees. his hand is on yoongi's leg, fingers curling, pressing into his thigh.
"yoongi," he says, like he's asking for something, and yoongi's self-restraint is shot.
his hands leave the keys. he grabs jungkook's face, holds him firmly and all but crashes their mouths together. it's far from gentle. jungkook makes a small sound, a whimper, immediately kissing him back with the same kind of desperation yoongi's feeling, his hands coming up to grip yoongi's arms above his elbows. like he's wanted this for as long as yoongi has. as much.
it's kind of messy, tongues and teeth colliding, and it's so, so good. jungkook's hands roam over his shoulders, dig into his skin in an attempt to get closer on the stool. someone's elbow connects with the keys, creating a discorded sound that yoongi barely notices because jungkook's making small noises into his mouth and it's steadily driving him crazy. his hand slides to the back of jungkook's neck, applies a little bit of pressure to keep him close. jungkook tastes vaguely like chinese food, but that's okay; underneath that, there's the candy apple sweetness yoongi remembers from the parking lot, and he thinks that must be how jungkook tastes, always.
when they inevitably run out of breath, yoongi loosens his grip a little bit to let jungkook pull back to catch his breath.
"why," jungkook pants, "didn't you do that sooner?"
and yoongi almost can't remember, with jungkook looking like that, his face flushed, lips swollen and spit-slicked, so fucking beautiful.
"i wanted to," yoongi says, eyes fixated on jungkook's parted lips, so distracting, "i wanted to, so badly, jungkook -"
jungkook cuts him off by kissing him again, and the rest of yoongi's sentence is transformed into a low groan.
yoongi's palm is flat against jungkook's chest, not pushing him away, just resting there. jungkook's heart thuds an erratic rhythm against his palm, as fast as his own.
"i wanted this place to be a home for you so bad," he mumbles against jungkook's lips, "i didn't want to mess it up."
"you're what makes this place home," jungkook whispers, fingertips on yoongi's jaw and neck, against his pulse point, "you."
yoongi is gone after that, he knows it at that second. he's not sure how they make it up the stairs without tripping and breaking something, but they do, and then it's yoongi's back hitting the door as soon as it closes, jungkook in front of him, against him, his mouth on whatever part of yoongi he can reach, and all yoongi can do is hold on, fingers tangling in jungkook's clothes, gripping so hard it might bruise.
"the door," he says, because somehow that is what surfaces in his cloudy brain, "you still have to paint it. include yourself in it."
"do you want me to paint it right fucking now?" jungkook asks with his mouth hot against yoongi's pulse. he sounds breathless and urgent, and yoongi can't stop the laugh from rumbling out of his throat.
"no," he says, and then pauses to gasp as jungkook nips at the skin below his ear, simultaneously getting a knee between yoongi's legs and pinning him to the door with his hips. "definitely not right now."
he grips at jungkook's waist harder - oh, he thinks, his hands fit around jungkook's waist so well - and jungkook makes a sound, half-moan, half-sigh, and rolls his hips forward. the back of yoongi's head hits the door, and jungkook takes this chance to mouth along his neck, at his adam's apple, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.
"want you," he mumbles, and the vibrations against his neck send shivers down yoongi's spine, "for so long, yoongi -"
"you have me," yoongi responds hastily, and the more accurate thing to say would be you had me from the start, but yoongi's not capable of forming sentences that long right now.
he pushes off the wall, blindly guides them further into the room, mouth on jungkook's again. a breathy laugh spills from his lips again as the backs of jungkook's legs hit the bed - his or yoongi's, whichever was closer to the door, yoongi can't remember right now and doesn't give a shit either - and they fall on it ungracefully in a tangle of limbs, jungkook on his back and yoongi on top of him. jungkook squirms, tries to push further up the bed, and somehow they succeed, with jungkook never letting go of yoongi, with their mouths never leaving each other for longer than a second.
jungkook's mouth is hot, something about it so, so addicting, dizzying, or maybe it's his hands on yoongi's sides, under his shirt, or the way his body moves against yoongi's, or the noises he makes into yoongi's mouth. there's an edge of desperation to it, and yoongi sort of feels like this might all go away if he lets go, if he takes his mouth off jungkook, like a dream, although -
- although jungkook's not going anywhere, jungkook's dragging yoongi's shirt up, jungkook's whispering yoongi against his lips, slight quiver to his voice, and hearing jungkook say his name like that is about to make his chest explode. yoongi makes a strangled noise, somewhere between a hum and a groan, drags his lips along jungkook's jaw, down the column of his neck, tastes salt and something so distinctly jungkook, and jungkook whimpers, his breath coming out disjointedly. his hands tighten in yoongi's shirt, tugging.
"yoongi, fuck, get this off, please -"
yoongi presses one more open-mouthed kiss to his pulse, and sits up, straddling jungkook's thighs. his heart hammers against his ribs relentlessly as he goes to yank the shirt over his head, letting it drop haphazardly on the floor. then jungkook's hands are on him, but they're on him slowly and tenderly, fingers feathering across his stomach, his ribs, and upwards.
it seems like they're both taking a moment to just - look at each other, both of them breathing sort of hard. jungkook is a goddamn sight, his hair a mess against the sheets, skin flushed, swollen lips parted, chest heaving. he still has his shirt on, and yoongi really wants to get him out of it, his fingertips pressing against the clothed stomach. and the way he's looking at yoongi, jesus fuck. it makes him feel hot all over, makes a very specific kind of heat coil in his stomach.
that's when jungkook's fingertips brush against his nipples, and yoongi shudders, a quiet "ah" falling from his mouth, kind of surprised himself how sensitive he is to jungkook's touch. jungkook's adam's apple bops as he swallows, and he bites his lip, eyes skimming over yoongi's face, asking. yoongi leans into his touch, says,
"don't stop."
don't stop touching me, don't stop moving, just. don't stop.
and jungkook presses his warm palms flat against yoongi, touches him like he wants to leave burn marks on him, drags the pads of his thumbs against his nipples more roughly now, rubs slow circles as they harden under his touch. it's like yoongi's senses are on overdrive, because jungkook just touching him like this feels -
he lets his eyes fall closed, his fists balling up in jungkook's shirt. bites down on his bottom lip and grinds his hips down ever so slightly.
he hears jungkook gasp shakily, and opens his eyes. jungkook's eyes are hooded and dark, his lips red and bitten. his hands fly to yoongi's waist as yoongi rocks his hips down harder, in small but firm circles. jungkook is hard under him, and yoongi's jeans feel uncomfortable tight.
"oh my god, yoongi."
yoongi breathes out, tugs at jungkook's shirt hard, might hear a ripping sound but might also be imagining it, and when jungkook pushes himself up, crashes their mouths together. jungkook's lips part readily, their tongues meet in the middle, hot and wet against each other. yoongi's fingers are caught in his shirt in the narrow space between their bodies, and it takes a while to untangle them. when he does, he slides his hands down jungkook's sides, slips them under his shirt. feels the lean muscles shift under his palms. jungkook's hands are on his thighs, then on his ass as he pulls yoongi closer in his lap. oh, yoongi breathes into his mouth.
his hands drag jungkook's shirt up, and jungkook helps him strip it off. without thinking about it much - or rather, thinking that he wants to see, to really look at him, so badly - he pushes jungkook down, hovers over him with a hand against his chest. smooths his other hand against the side of his neck, brushes his thumb against his jaw.
"hey," yoongi whispers, barely audibly, mostly just mouthing the word.
jungkook licks his lips, his eyes slightly glazed but intense, fixed on yoongi's face. his fingers wrap around yoongi's wrist. guide his hand from his neck to his face. with his eyes still never leaving yoongi's, brings his palm to his lips. presses a soft, lingering kiss to the base of his thumb. just like he did on the edge of yoongi's bed, on the night he officially moved in.
"hey," he says, a puff of hot air on yoongi's palm. yoongi feels more than sees the tiny, soft smile.
he's unreal, yoongi thinks. thinks, i'm so fucking in love with you. but what he says out loud is:
"you're so fucking gorgeous." jungkook releases his wrist, fingers ghosting up yoongi's arm, and yoongi lets his hand slide down his chest, his stomach, tracing the lines of his muscles, admiring the way jungkook feels under his fingers and the pretty flush everywhere on his skin, transfixed with the way he shudders, responds to his touch. "you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen."
means: inside and out. jungkook makes a small, high-pitched noise, presses his teeth into his bottom lip as yoongi's fingers trail downwards. they stop at his waistband, and yoongi licks his lips, glances at jungkook's face, and jungkook releases a breath, nods. he tenses as yoongi's hand slides over the bulge in his sweatpants, before a moan ripples from his throat, his eyes flutter shut and his head tips back. he rolls his hips up into yoongi's palm, and yoongi thinks, oh, fuck, leans down to press his mouth to the junction of his neck and shoulder. he bites down lightly, sucks a red mark onto the skin, and jungkook likes it, going by the way he whimpers and bucks into yoongi's hand.
yoongi kisses and nips at his neck, and jungkook's fingers skim across his back.
"ah, yoongi -" his fingers dip under yoongi's waistband, then circle to the front of his jeans. "wanna touch you, can i -"
"yes, yes," yoongi breathes quickly into his neck. jungkook's fingers fumble with the button a little bit, and yoongi takes his own hand off jungkook to give him room, bracing both his forearms on either side of his head instead and continuing working on his neck, leaving faint pink marks here and there. jungkook works his jeans open, and yoongi stifles a groan into his neck as he palms yoongi through his briefs.
jungkook is saying his name, fingers tangling in his hair, and yoongi lifts his face, kisses jungkook's red mouth. the kiss is slow, dragging, jungkook's bottom lip catching between yoongi's lips. yoongi flattens his tongue against it, sucks on it gently, loses himself in jungkook's taste. jungkook lets out a content hum. he withdraws his hand, just for a second; then he slides it down yoongi's briefs, wraps it around his hard length.
yoongi's breath catches, and then he's moaning against jungkook's lips as he moves his hand, thumbs at the slit, the precum pooling there, uses it to ease the slide. his fist is nice and tight and perfect, and he strokes yoongi quickly but not quite quickly enough, holding his head close with his other hand. yoongi fucks into his hand, drowns his moans into jungkook's mouth. he can feel himself getting closer at a dangerous pace, so he presses a sloppy kiss to jungkook's lips, presses their foreheads together, whispers,
"what do you want?"
means: anything. also means: a few more seconds of this and it's going to be over because i'm a fucking mess.
"ah," jungkook says, his fist around yoongi coming to a halt, just squeezing lightly around the base, "anything. fuck me. fuck you. i don't care. just want you."
"oh," yoongi says weakly. his dick throbs in jungkook's fist. he tries to pull his thoughts together as jungkook kisses the side of his face, mouths at his ear, nibbles on his earlobe.
yoongi wants everything, has thought about everything even though he tried his damnedest to not think about anything, because, big fucking surprise, his brain is a traitorous piece of shit; has thought about fucking jungkook until he comes apart, about being fucked by jungkook, about going down on him. but right now -
"fuck me," he mumbles into the corner of jungkook's mouth, "jungkook. i want you to fuck me."
jungkook makes a strangled noise. he pulls his hand out of yoongi's pants, snakes an arm around yoongi's middle, pulls him against him; the next second, yoongi is very much flying through the air as jungkook flips them.
holy shit, is all yoongi can think when his back hits the mattress so hard he bounces off it a little bit. so he might be discovering just how much he likes it when jungkook throws him around.
then jungkook is on top of him, pinning him to the mattress with his hips, his hand in yoongi's hair, angling his face as he fits their mouths together, and kisses him hard, thoroughly, licking at the seams of his mouth. yoongi moans, can't help it, can only hold onto whatever part of jungkook he can get his hands on, and jungkook swallows it down, rocks his hips against yoongi's, and - fuck, fuck.
"the, ah, the bottom drawer," he tells jungkook, tugging at the strands on the back of his neck. jungkook hums in understanding, kisses yoongi for a few more seconds before pulling away - but rather than getting off the bed, he stays hovering over yoongi, hands on either side of his head.
yoongi blinks up at him; the way jungkook is looking at him right now is somewhat different from the heated gazes; with his face still flushed, lips still swollen and raw, hair still fucked up, but with some sort of dazed wonder, something so incredibly soft in his expression. yoongi's heart stutters. he swallows.
"what," he asks, and it comes out as a whisper even if he doesn't mean to. jungkook blinks, licks his lips; maybe a different sort of blush creeping onto his cheeks. how is he real, yoongi thinks, not for the first and not for the last time. three seconds ago he was basically fucking yoongi into the mattress, and now he's -
"i just... you look so beautiful right now. always. i always thought that."
"oh," yoongi breathes. they stare at each other for a moment. then jungkook leans down, presses a slow, languid kiss to his mouth; yoongi's eyes flutter closed, his chest feels so full he thinks he might die. he reaches up to give jungkook's shoulder a gentle push. "go."
finally jungkook gets off of yoongi.
"bottom drawer," he mumbles to himself as he throws his legs over the edge of the bed. biting at his lip, he glances back at yoongi once more, like he doesn't quite know how to look away. yoongi knows the feeling.
he lets out a long breath as jungkook goes find the lube and the condoms, shifts his limbs on the bed. his jeans are still open, dick pressing a wet spot on his briefs. he wants to kick them off, but he also sort of wants jungkook to take them off him. he wonders hazily how the hell he's going to make it through this without getting overwhelmed; he probably isn't, but he really can't give a shit right now. if he embarrasses himself by crying or coming too fast, then... that happens, but right now he just needs jungkook to -
the bed tips, and jungkook crawls between his legs, discarding a travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom on the bed. his thumbs rub at yoongi's knees, slightly bent on either side of jungkook. his eyes meet yoongi's, heated, again; god, he really is so, so beautiful, and yoongi can't wait to tell him that over and over again; but right now all that comes out of his throat is a small groan as jungkook leans down, mouths hotly at the skin beside his hipbone, teeth and tongue just above the waistband of his briefs. yoongi's fingers tangle in his hair, and jungkook hums into his skin; he sounds a bit choked, turned on, and yoongi's dick throbs; he bites desperately down on his bottom lip as jungkook's mouth slides downward, over the wet bulge in his briefs, his hands smoothing over yoongi's hips.
"oh, fuck," yoongi groans weakly, his thighs twitching. his fingers tighten in jungkook's hair. "jungkook -"
jungkook presses a few hasty, open-mouthed kisses on his lower stomach, crawls up his body. yoongi's fingers in his hair guide his face down, their mouths meet in a fervent kiss.
"hyung," jungkook mumbles against his lips, then noses along his jawline. "yoongi. i want to make you feel good."
yoongi swallows roughly. he wriggles his hips a little bit.
"get these off me."
he doesn't have to ask twice as jungkook hooks his fingers over the waistband, tugs, and yoongi raises his hips as jungkook slides both his jeans and his underwear down his thighs. the pants land somewhere on the floor, and jungkook's gaze slides over him. yoongi can't even feel self-conscious as he watches jungkook watch him, his eyes hooded and red mouth hanging slightly open, his hand slowly sliding down yoongi's inner thigh. yoongi's hips twitch involuntarily, and jungkook's eyes jump to his face. jungkook swallows visibly.
"fuck, yoongi," he says, "you're so..."
yoongi makes a strangled noise, hooks his leg around jungkook's waist to pull him close, tugs him into a kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. jungkook's clothed erection presses against yoongi's. he rocks his hips a little bit, and they both groan.
"so gorgeous," jungkook mumbles into his mouth, the syllables melting into each other so that it's barely intelligible, "so fucking hot."
yoongi feels around the bed with his other hand until it finds the bottle of lube. he hastily presses it to jungkook's chest.
"do you want to... i can -"
"i'll do it," jungkook breathes quickly, "i want to."
the bottle switches hands, and jungkook sits up, kneeling between yoongi's legs. yoongi watches him screw the cap open, pour a generous amount on his fingers. yoongi really, really needs him inside him, but jungkook takes his time kissing the side of his knee, brushing his lips down his inner thigh, hot breath tickling his skin. yoongi's cock twitches against his stomach, hard and heavy, and he bites at his lip as jungkook presses his fingertip to his rim, circling it slowly.
"okay?" he murmurs, and when yoongi nods, starts working the finger in him. it's been a while since yoongi fingered himself, longer still since he actually slept with anyone, and it burns a little bit but not too much. jungkook leans his temple against the side of yoongi's knee, drops occasional kisses and nips at the skin. he's so careful fingering him open it aches, somewhere in his chest and his stomach which feels almost unbearably tight, and yoongi spreads his legs wider automatically.
"give me another," he says, and reaches a hand towards jungkook, "and come here."
jungkook doesn't rush, intent on making sure yoongi doesn't get hurt, but soon enough he's fucking three fingers into him as yoongi pants into his mouth, fingers digging into the muscles of his back.
"fuck -" yoongi arches off the mattress and tips his head back on the pillow as jungkook brushes against his prostate, and then keeps angling his fingers so that he rubs against it with each thrust. "ah, ah -"
"fuck, yoongi," jungkook whispers breathlessly, and yoongi moans, doesn't even bother trying to keep the sounds in anymore. he's falling apart too fast, and he could easily come just from this, from jungkook fucking him with his fingers, but -
"kook," he manages, "need you to fuck me, need you in me -"
jungkook curses shakily, presses a hot kiss to yoongi's neck and pulls his fingers out. he kneels between yoongi's legs again, reaches for the condom and sticks it between his teeth for safekeeping as he tugs his underwear down along with his sweatpants, and if it isn't the single hottest thing yoongi's ever seen in his life.
jungkook kicks the pants off, and yoongi's not going to say he could come at the sight alone, but - it's definitely nice to look at. he's like a fucking work of art, yoongi thinks, his gaze sliding over the narrow waist, the thick thighs, the hard, flushed cock dripping precum -
"oh, shit," yoongi breathes, sounds pained, kind of is. "jungkook, come on."
jungkook doesn't waste time ripping the foil open. he bites at his lip, brow furrowing slightly as he rolls the condom on, and never mind, that's the hottest thing yoongi's ever seen. he secures a hand on yoongi's hip, thumb rubbing a slow circle next to his hipbone as if to ground both of them, asks,
"how do you want it?"
"like this," yoongi says, "like this."
"me too," jungkook says quietly, and yoongi wonders if he means it like i want to see you. is glad jungkook's not saying it out loud, because there's only so much he can take right now.
jungkook spreads more lube onto his cock, pumping his hand a couple of times, and yoongi's so worked up by the time he's pushing past his rim that he sort of wants to tell jungkook to just thrust in, despite the way it stretches and burns. he doesn't, instead tries to relax around him, fingers curling in the sheets as jungkook keeps him spread open with a hand on the back of his thigh, the other one on his hip, and slides in slowly.
jungkook leans over him, supporting himself with a forearm on the pillow beside yoongi's head. he has his eyes closed, his brow furrowed slightly, lips parted in heavy breaths. a drop of sweat travels down the side of his face, drips onto yoongi's chest. fucking beautiful, yoongi thinks hazily, and then doesn't think much of anything beside the fact that jungkook is buried all the way in, stretching him open and filling him up so good.
jungkook kisses the side of his neck, his jaw, slow and soft, asks,
"are you okay?"
he sounds wrecked, and yoongi's glad he's not the only one who's far gone. he curls his fingers in jungkook's hair, breathes in and out.
"yeah," he says, "it's just been a while. give me a second."
jungkook gives him a second, his mouth working on yoongi's neck, biting and sucking at the skin below his ear, languid and unhurried, having undoubtedly already learned yoongi is sensitive there. yoongi groans quietly, gradually gets used to jungkook's girth.
"you can move," he tells jungkook, squeezing his waist with his thighs a little bit. jungkook lifts his face, keeps his eyes trained on yoongi's intently to observe his reactions as he complies, rolling his hips slowly.
he stays deep within yoongi, keeps his pace slow, dragging. yoongi wraps his legs around his waist, and jungkook clutches at his thigh to keep him in place as he fucks into him, hips moving in controlled circles. it's intense, intimate; it still burns, but it's a pleasurable burn, and yoongi fucking loves it.
"yeah," he breathes, "like that."
jungkook seems to like the encouragement; he bites at his lip, hums, his eyes shining, and yoongi has to shove his fingers into his hair, pull him into a kiss. it turns a bit sloppy as jungkook rocks his hips harder, and one of them moans into the kiss - yoongi's not entirely sure which one, his mind getting cloudier by the second, and all he knows is how jungkook feels against him, inside him.
"harder," he mumbles against jungkook's lips, and jungkook groans, snaps his hips forward in a way that makes yoongi's breath catch in his throat.
he bends yoongi's legs towards his chest, spreads him out more, takes the time to ask, "okay?" with his breath coming in harsh pants, sweat dripping down his neck. yes, yes, yoongi affirms, sort of desperate to have jungkook fuck him into the mattress. and then jungkook does, thrusting in deep and hard, and yoongi lets his head tip back on the pillow, a broken "aah" spilling from his throat.
jungkook fucks him so hard he inches up on the mattress with every thrust. yoongi vaguely registers the rhythmic clanking sound as the bedframe hits the wall.
maybe jungkook registers the fact that they are working a dent into the wall, too, because he interrupts his rhythm, only to push his hands between yoongi's back and the bed, say,
"sit up?"
yoongi is barely processing what he's saying, but that's okay, because he doesn't actually need to do anything; jungkook's dick never leaves his ass as he kneels on the bed, pulls yoongi up with him, and yoongi sinks down on his cock, and -
a ragged moan rises from yoongi's throat, his head rolls on his shoulders, because the new position has jungkook pressing directly against his prostate, so incredibly deep. he pulsates around jungkook, who groans, wrecked, and leans his forehead on yoongi's shoulder. he's holding yoongi tightly, palms flat against his back. yoongi has his arms locked around his shoulders.
"are you okay?" jungkook gasps into his chest.
"yes, i'm -" yoongi shifts, using jungkook's shoulders as leverage to lift himself slightly. "i'm better than okay, fuck me -"
jungkook's hands grab his waist, and he rolls his hips up, hits the spot again, and noises keep falling from yoongi's mouth. he's never been quiet in bed, but he's pretty sure he's never been this loud. his fingers dig into jungkook's shoulders; he's probably leaving bruises.
"don't," he pants, "don't stop."
jungkook fucks up into him, keeping up a fast rhythm, and yoongi moves with him, at first, rolling his hips down when jungkook thrusts up, but jungkook keeps brushing against his spot, and soon yoongi's thighs are shaking, he's shaking all over, and all he can do is cling to jungkook.
"jungkook," he chokes, and jungkook moans into his neck, holds him close and tight and rocks up into him, hard and fast and deep. "f-fuck."
"'m so close," jungkook manages, "touch yourself, yoongi, please -"
yoongi moans weakly, hooks his arm around jungkook's neck to keep his balance, reaches for his leaking cock between their bodies. he only has to jerk himself a couple of times, and then he's coming, with a loud, broken cry, spilling over their chests as a whiteness washes over him. jungkook groans as yoongi clenches around him.
he only sort of registers his back hitting the mattress again. jungkook keeps fucking into him, and yoongi kind of feels like his soul just left his body, but he tangles his fingers in jungkook's hair, drags him into a messy kiss, mumbles,
"come on, baby, i got you, wanna see you come -"
"oh, my god," jungkook says, and comes.
even though he said he wanted to, yoongi doesn't actually see because jungkook buries his face into yoongi's neck, his hips snapping forward jerkily a few more times as he rides out the aftershocks. yoongi holds him close, runs his fingers over his shoulders, up and down his back, whispers, i got you, again. jungkook is trembling, and yoongi thinks, no wonder, because that was fucking intense.
jungkook's hips come to a halt and he just sort of collapses on top of yoongi, panting into his neck. for a while they just lie there without moving, without speaking, just catching their breaths and coming down. yoongi can't remember the last time he came that hard, if ever. there's still sort of a white haze over everything, and he doesn't quite register the stickiness from sweat and cum, his sore limbs just yet. right now it just feels amazing.
"i'm gonna pull out," jungkook mumbles into his ear, and yoongi makes an approving noise. he draws in a sharp breath as jungkook moves, because he's pretty fucking sensitive, and jungkook presses a couple of soft kisses along his collarbone.
"where are you going?" he asks, somewhat alarmed as jungkook makes to get off the bed. the corner of jungkook's mouth quirks.
"thought i should get rid of this," he holds up the used condom, "and clean that up."
yoongi looks down at the mess on his chest.
"oh. right."
he flops back down on the bed. jungkook might've literally fucked his brains out. he runs a hand through his damp hair, closes his eyes, until the mattress tips.
"are you sleeping?"
"mm. no."
yoongi cracks his eyes open. jungkook is sitting next to him, a bunch of tissues in his hands. yoongi sighs.
"you look so good naked."
jungkook grins, his eyes crinkling, takes a couple of tissues out of the pile.
"so do you," he says, and brings the tissues to yoongi's chest, wiping him off carefully, seemingly having already cleaned himself up. he balls them up and throws them in the general direction of the trashcan when he's done, and flops back down next to yoongi. he nestles into yoongi's side, ghosts his fingers along his jawline. there's a dangerous glint in his eyes as he murmurs, "and you look so good fucked out."
even as spent as he is, there's a spark in his lower stomach, and yoongi groans, reaches to flick at jungkook's bicep.
"don't get me going again. i can't take any more right now."
jungkook laughs softly. it makes yoongi's heart flutter. he bumps their legs together.
"let's switch sides. this side is gross." super bed turned out to be pretty useful, after all. jungkook rolls to the other bed, but yoongi just holds out his hands. "drag me. i can't move."
"seriously, hyung?"
"seriously," yoongi confirms. "you did this. take some responsibility."
jungkook bites at his lip in a shitty attempt at suppressing a smile, grabs yoongi's arms and tugs, actually pulls yoongi to him. yoongi ends up on his stomach half on top of jungkook. he laughs quietly into his chest, feels the way it shakes with laughter. fingers card through his hair gently.
"good?" jungkook asks in a quiet, soft voice, just a hint of something... not quite like nervousness to it, but like he wants to hear it from yoongi, just to make sure he liked it.
yoongi rolls onto his side, so that they are chest to chest.
"amazing," he says, and jungkook smiles, soft and so pretty, casts his eyelashes down for a few seconds.
"for me, too," he whispers. yoongi swallows. can't really stop running his eyes over his face; the messy hair on his forehead, his glowing skin, the still swollen lips and the soft smile ghosting on them, his tired but attentive eyes.
"hey," yoongi says, "you're..."
"i'm what?" jungkook asks softly. yoongi takes a breath. shakes his head a little.
"nothing. it's nothing."
there's a million things he wants to say; but doesn't quite know how to say them. maybe it's not the right time, either. he settles for taking jungkook's hand that rests in the sheets between them, and bringing it to his lips. he presses a soft kiss to the first knuckle. he hears jungkook sigh a little bit.
"hyung," he says, and then pauses to bite his lip. he seems to be struggling to find words, like yoongi.
"you're a home for me, too," yoongi says, and right now, it's enough.
/
yoongi would love to just stay in bed for the rest of the evening, warm under the covers and against jungkook's chest, but his phone going off every ten seconds somewhere on the floor makes it impossible to drift off. he's never regretted anything more in his life than he currently regrets not putting his phone on silent.
"oh, for fuck's sake," yoongi complains, and jungkook laughs quietly, his fingers shifting in yoongi's hair lazily.
"they could be in trouble," he muses, "they could be dying."
"they'd call if they were dying," yoongi huffs, then considers for a moment. "i take that back. taehyung once sent me a fucking selfie from the emergency room, with namjoon with his knee sliced open in the background. they could be dying and i'd find out through jimin's snapstory."
"you don't have a snapchat," jungkook reminds him.
"right," yoongi sighs, "i wouldn't find out at all."
his phone dings with yet another text, and yoongi grumbles, finally giving up and detaching himself from jungkook's warm chest.
"i don't like this," he says as he crawls across the bed and hangs halfway over the edge, fumbling for his jeans and the cellphone that's caught somewhere in there.
"what?" jungkook asks from behind him.
"not cuddling with you," yoongi says.
he manages to fish his phone out of his bundled up jeans, and at the same time feels the bed tip as jungkook crawls to him, drapes an arm over his back and noses at his shoulder.
"better," yoongi sighs, and feels jungkook smile into his skin. his phone screen is telling him there's sixty-two new messages in the group chat. he quickly scrolls past the older ones, the updates from the shopping trip, until:
hobi [7:16]
wow i didnt know yoongi could make that kinda sound
"oh, no," yoongi says. jungkook goes still behind him.
jimin [7:16]
HONESTLY
JESUD FUCKING HELL GIVE US A WARNGIN WILL U
ALL THE WAY TO THE LIVING ROOM
jin [7:17]
we walked in heard you walked back out
in and out
just like jungkook apparently
hahahaha
jin [7:18]
we didnt hear too much dont worry
jimin [7:18]
WE HEARD ENOUGH
WHAG WERE U DOING TO HIM JUNGKOOK
hobi [7:19]
i hope ur using protection
namjoonie [7:19]
they obviously arent reading these guys
hobi [7:20]
never a wrong time to spread awareness of stds
jimin [7:21]
LET US KNOW WHEN UR DONE
FUCK
tae [7:23]
im super pumped for u guys!!!!!!!
namjoonie [7:23]
me too. congratulations
about time
tae [7:25]
also how the hell r u so loud lmao throw some tips my way will u
namjoonie [7:25]
:/
jimin [7:28]
ARE U DONE YET
NVM TAKE UR TIME WERE GOING TO GRAB MCDONALDS
hobi [8:12]
id like to state for the record that jin hyung, jimin and taehyung owe namjoon and i 20,000 won each as a result of a betting pool
jin [8:13]
whatever
really thought it would take them a couple more weeks
not that im not happy for you guys
jimin [8:14]
ARE U GUYS DONE
ITS BEEN AN HOUR
jimin [8:15]
PLEASE IT S COLD OUT HERE
"well, i want to die," jungkook says.
"a betting pool," yoongi mumbles, disbelieving. he lets his head droop. "it's... okay. this is fine. they would've found out... either way."
"oh my god," jungkook says, smushing his face into yoongi's shoulder. he starts laughing weakly, despite himself, and yoongi joins in a moment later.
i hope you freeze, yoongi types in the chat. just seconds later, there's clattering from downstairs, the sound of the door opening and their housemates' indistinct voices.
"how am i supposed to look them in the eye," jungkook worries as they start picking their clothes up off the floor; yoongi looks for his boxer briefs for a full minute before remembering he's in his own room, and going to dig a fresh pair out of the drawer, throwing a pair at jungkook, too. yoongi's, he realizes a beat too late; but jungkook just pulls them on without batting an eye, probably too caught up in his thoughts to notice. they are a snug fit around his hips, and yoongi's pretty sure he shouldn't be this affected by jungkook wearing his briefs, considering he had his dick up yoongi's ass a moment ago.
"easily," yoongi tells him, turns his back to concentrate on pulling on some pajama bottoms. "just remember that hoseok once connected his porn to the speakers in the living room, and namjoon got locked out of the house in his underwear. trust me, you don't have to feel embarrassed around these people."
when yoongi turns, jungkook has put on knee-length shorts and a black t-shirt, and he still looks flustered, sitting on the edge of the bed, chewing on his bottom lip. he looks... breathtaking, as always, and obviously post-sex, with his mess of hair and pink-purplish bruises blooming on his neck. god, yoongi thinks. he sort of wants to pull jungkook back onto the bed, get him out of his clothes again, not leave the room until neither of them can walk; but their housemates are going to start pounding on the door any second now.
yoongi pulls a white tee over his head and goes over to jungkook, stops in front of him. jungkook opens his legs wider to make room for yoongi between them. jungkook looks up at him, and yoongi's fingers find his hair, carding through it slowly.
"hey," he says quietly, and jungkook mouths the word back at him. his hands come up to hold yoongi's waist gently. "it's okay. really. i guarantee you one of them is going to do something more embarrassing in less than twenty-four hours, and they'll forget all about it."
jungkook blinks up at him.
"okay," he says. yoongi licks his lips. feels his dumb heart thump.
"and i think it was worth it."
jungkook bites his lip, smiles.
"i agree."
yoongi sucks in a breath. he takes a step back, tugs at jungkook's arms a little bit.
"come on before i take your clothes off again."
jungkook hums.
"i'd let you."
he gets up anyway, follows yoongi to the door. before yoongi can open it, he tugs at yoongi's shirt.
"hyung," he says quietly, "kiss me."
yoongi doesn't need to be told twice; he snakes a hand around jungkook's neck, pulls him in. easy as that. jungkook holds his waist, his lips parting for yoongi's tongue. they kiss slowly, for a long time, and yoongi feels dizzy in a good way, feels... right.
downstairs, their housemates are occupied with pulling stuff out of shopping bags, which take up most of the floor space in the living room. yoongi notes boxes and boxes of christmas lights. a massive inflatable santa that looks suspiciously like it was lifted from a christmas window display.
hoseok notices them first, and gives a loud wolf whistle, which makes everyone else turn to them, too.
"first of all, congrats," jimin says, "second of all, i'm traumatized for life, so thanks for that."
"like hell you are," yoongi rolls his eyes. jungkook curls his fingers in the back of yoongi's shirt. yoongi reaches behind him, finds his hand, gives it a light squeeze. "you're acting awfully shocked considering you're the one who told us not to break the entire house."
"it certainly sounded like you were doing just that," jimin says. taehyung steps forward.
"we got you mcnuggets but they're cold now," he says, shoving the box at yoongi's chest, "i hope the mcsex was mcfucking worth it."
"hope you were lovin' it," seokjin mumbles, but yoongi pays him no mind since it sounds like the kind of thing seokjin needs to let out or he'll burst. yoongi raises an eyebrow, and jimin sighs.
"tae's pissy because we made him go to mcdonald's, and he's got that thing with clowns," he says.
"a completely reasonable, well-founded fear, thank you very much," taehyung says, folding his arms. "the clown was real."
"i believe you, taehyung," hoseok says, nodding, and taehyung looks grateful for a couple of seconds. "i believe there's a murder clown after your life, and you should be very, very careful."
taehyung lets out a high-pitched squeak and clings to jimin's arm, who merely pats at his head absentmindedly.
"why do you guys do this," taehyung whines.
"see," yoongi murmurs, turning to jungkook as jimin continues comforting a distressed taehyung, and seokjin yells at namjoon for tripping over a bag of groceries and sending cherry tomatoes rolling across the floor. "everything's normal."
jungkook smiles lopsidedly, his fingers subtly on yoongi's waist. he scrunches his nose.
"i'm not sure i'd call the inflatable santa normal? also, namjoon-hyung's missing half of his jacket sleeve?"
"i believe that's because he was on fire earlier," yoongi shrugs. "which is also more normal than you think. you're right about the santa, though. it's kinda creepy."
"how dare you talk about bill like that," hoseok cuts in from where he's unboxing some lights on the floor. yoongi turns to give him a blank stare over his shoulder.
"the santa's name is bill?"
"yes," hoseok says, looking up at him, completely serious. "in honor of the security guard who chased us after we grabbed bill from the display window. i don't know his name, but he was foreign, and bill's a foreign name."
"fantastic," yoongi says.
/
"hey," namjoon says.
"hey," yoongi says.
"i was going to take a shower, but i see you're occupying the bathtub," namjoon says.
"there's room," yoongi says and draws his knees to his chest to make room for namjoon in the empty tub. namjoon gives him a look. then he shrugs, and gets in. his long noodle limbs are folded a bit more awkwardly than yoongi's.
"what's wrong," namjoon asks, toeing at yoongi's ankle. "where's jungkook?"
"sunshine line stole him away," yoongi says, looping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on top of his knee. "i imagine tae's asking him for 'tips' right about now."
namjoon snorts. he quietly waits for yoongi to continue.
"nothing's wrong. aside from the fact that there's a giant inflatable santa in the corner of the living room that's going to scare the shit out of me every time i go downstairs at night from now on."
"his name is bill," namjoon says, sort of robotically, like the response has been programmed into him. yoongi ignores him.
"nothing's wrong," he repeats. a pause. "i'm just... sort of overwhelmed. everyone's acting like it's not a big deal, but..."
"it's a big deal," namjoon finishes for him. yoongi just nods, picks at the fabric of his pajama bottoms.
all in all, everyone's reaction reminded him of when namjoon proposed they ask jungkook to move in. everyone had thought of it as a matter of time. there had been a betting pool.
the corner of namjoon's mouth curls upwards in a tiny smile.
"do you want to talk about it?"
"not really. later." yoongi's yet to even really talk about it with jungkook. "i'm still processing everything."
"and the tub helps?"
"it kind of does, actually."
namjoon hums. there's a distant shriek, most definitely from the sunshine line's bedroom, followed by laughter.
"you're happy, though?" namjoon asks gently.
yoongi turns his face into his knees.
"i'm happy," he says. he can hear namjoon smiling, although it doesn't technically make a sound. he sits like that for a few beats, listening to the indistinct voices from the sunshine line's bedroom and namjoon's breathing. he sighs heavily, lifts his face. "my ass really hurts, though."
"okay," namjoon says, "i love you but please get the fuck out so i can take a shower."
/
yoongi looks up at the sound of the bedroom door opening. jungkook slips in, closes the door behind him with a quiet click. he leans his back against it for a moment. his eyes fall on yoongi, who sets his phone down next to him, cross-legged on the bed. jungkook smiles; yoongi can just barely see in the lack of light, or rather, the dim moonlight through the single window in the room.
somehow yoongi thinks about the first time jungkook was in this room. the night they shared a bed for the first time. there are similarities, he supposes. like the way his heart beats fast. for slightly different reasons, now, maybe. also for the same reason, the reason being jungkook.
"how was it with the sunshine line?" yoongi asks. can make out jungkook scrunching up his face.
"i'd rather not talk about it."
yoongi grins lopsidedly.
"that traumatizing?" he reaches an arm towards jungkook, a come here his body acts out before he can think about it, and jungkook moves from the door immediately.
"no, not really." jungkook climbs onto the bed and shuffles to yoongi on his knees. "mostly they just told me stuff about you. to, quote unquote, make sure i know what i'm getting myself into?"
"oh, god," yoongi mumbles.
"at the end they asked if i still like you." jungkook's biting back a smile, something shy about the way he looks at yoongi through his lashes. "i said yeah. i still like you."
"you still like me," yoongi repeats quietly. jungkook looks at him for a moment. yoongi knows the slow grin spreading on his face can't mean anything good.
"even if you apparently made everyone call you gloss first year of high school?"
yoongi only squeezes his eyes shut, adopts a suffering expression.
"that period only lasted for like two weeks," he sighs, resigned. jungkook laughs happily, the light touch of his fingers on yoongi's knees.
when yoongi opens his eyes, it's to find jungkook looking at him with soft eyes. jungkook breathes in and out. then he falls forward, until his forehead is resting on yoongi's shoulder. he smells faintly like soap.
"i want to be with you," jungkook murmurs. "be with me, yoongi."
yoongi turns his face into jungkook's soft hair.
"yes," he says, and it's the easiest thing he's ever said.
the moment is somewhat ruined by something or someone hitting the wall in the bedroom next to theirs. quiet cursing, some shuffling, and a muffled voice that belongs to kim taehyung:
"are they doing it?"
"i can't hear anything," comes hoseok's equally muffled voice.
jungkook lifts his face, and they share a look. jungkook grins wide, eyes shining in the moonlight.
"maybe we should move our beds to the opposite wall," he suggests.
"maybe we should kill our housemates," yoongi suggests.
he settles for slamming his fist against the wall as hard as he can manage. the way hoseok screams and the sound of bodies tumbling to the floor are extremely satisfying.
they sleep the same way they've been sleeping for a long while now, jungkook with his face pressed to yoongi's chest, arm slung over his waist, yoongi's around his shoulders. all of this is both familiar and new. comforting and sort of frightening at the same time.
"i was thinking," yoongi says while he can still remember, before sleep takes over. "if you want. you could perform with me. at the house of cards."
for a moment, he thinks maybe jungkook fell asleep already. but then he raises his head, looks at yoongi the way he does whenever yoongi says something he wasn't expecting; a compliment, usually, and it doesn't make any sense to yoongi; jungkook is so talented at a lot of things, but the people in his life haven't been vocalizing this, haven't supported him or let him know how good he is. it sparks something like anger in yoongi's chest, makes him want to never stop telling jungkook how talented he is.
"i've never been on stage," jungkook replies after a while.
"that's okay," yoongi says, strokes his hair deliberately. "i know you'd do well. you have a great voice. people would love you. and i'd be there. nothing to be scared of."
he can see jungkook think it through, his fingers in yoongi's shirt curling and uncurling.
"you don't have to decide right away," yoongi tells him, "you can just think about it."
jungkook blinks slowly, then buries his face back in yoongi's chest.
"on one condition." yoongi can hear a smile in his voice. "your own songs."
"we'll write new songs," yoongi says, "together."
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