Can anybodyfind me somebody to love?
♬
The vibration of Yoongi’s phone scattering across his studio desk brings him back to his harsh reality. Releasing a frustrated breath, he pulls his headphones off and pauses all hopes of finishing the song running through his mind.
Whoever is calling knows he’s busy and has no tolerance for interruption and whoever is calling understands the impending tongue lashing they’ll get. He hopes they’re ready.
Only when Yoongi sees the caller ID does his aggravation dissipate a marginal amount. He knows if he doesn’t answer his first call it’ll be one of many and then he won’t be able to escape it.
“Hoseok,” Yoongi says sternly as he presses the phone to his ear, “you know I’m busy.”
Normally his laughter is excessive and loud, but years of growing up with Hoseok has taught Yoongi the different tones of his laughter. And this one was different; this is one Yoongi’s never heard before, “Hyung, ” he sounds elated, “I need to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?” Yoongi says as he becomes immediately alert. There are a few words that trigger Yoongi’s anxiety and if speaking on the phone wasn’t bad enough, the words I need to talk to you just send his heart into overdrive.
“Don’t worry,” Hoseok says calmly, “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I’m just,” he holds the phone away from the receiver to hide his rambunctious laughter. Yoongi notes that he’s somewhere busy, which, again, is something Yoongi hates. He prefers his studio where it’s quiet and secluded, “I need you to meet me in Namsan park.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows nearly cross from confusion, “Now?”
“Yes, right now! Hurry!” Hoseok’s laughter is the last thing he hears before the call ends, and with little information, Yoongi’s heart is starting to pick up unnecessary speed. Hoseok said he was fine, and that he wasn’t hurt, but the urgency in his voice made Yoongi very apprehensive. As quickly as he could, he disconnected all necessary wires and saved any progress he had and knew he wouldn’t work on it anymore until his mind was clear. It definitely wasn’t clear now.
Namsan wasn’t that far from his studio building, maybe a ten minute walk down the street, but Yoongi’s anxiousness made him get there in six.
Looking around, he notices Hoseok without fail--his bright red hair was quite hard to miss. Mixed with his obnoxiously loud laughter, he was a bright beacon in the park. Next to him, Yoongi noticed, was Namjoon, the guy Hoseok had been friendly with for quite some time. Both he and Yoongi were both in the music industry but on such different wavelengths so they ironically never ran into each other. Sometimes Hoseok would bring him on the odd night they were both free to get dinner, but Yoongi just thought he was being friendly to include him places and that he was shy and didn’t know many people. Hoseok had told him once before that he just moved to Seoul earlier this year but thought nothing of it. He should have noticed it sooner, should have done his best to change things before they got too far.
“Yoongi-hyung!” Hoseok screeches when he’s within ear shot. He starts jumping up and down excitedly like a little child on Christmas morning, and a small shot of affection clutches at Yoongi’s heart. Hoseok reaches for Namjoon’s arm and loops his arm around his bicep, more lovingly than Yoongi wanted. In fact, the quick movement made him immediately jealous.
“I’m here,” Yoongi announces, obviously, “where’s the fire?”
Hoseok pushes further to Namjoon, whose smile is reserved but full of quiet excitement. Hoseok says no words, but extends his left hand. When the sun glints off the ring on Hoseok’s finger, Yoongi’s heart turns to stone in recognition.
Yoongi and Hoseok have been friends since birth. Their moms went to the same college and became really close friends, so naturally when they had kids together they would make them as close as they were. Even though Yoongi is a year older, he and Hoseok were attached at the hip all throughout childhood. Yoongi helped Hoseok fight bugs that got too close to him, helped dry his eyes when he got hurt, helped him through growth spurts and dating and driving and life. Hoseok helped Yoongi face his fears, helped him with his nerves and spoke for him when he couldn't do it himself. They were always together. They went to the same preschools, same elementary school, same high school, same college. For all Yoongi knew, Hoseok was his shadow and he, his.
Something changed in college, though. Something that Yoongi wasn’t quite ready for.
He knew he had feelings for Hoseok about a few semesters into college, away from their parents’ supervision. Yoongi cared a lot about his classes and his grades. Hoseok distracted him. Like a lot. He wasn’t sure why it mattered when they had grown up together. It was one sunny spring day in an anthropology class together, with his knee pressed against Hoseok’s in the auditorium’s small seat. Yoongi watched as Hoseok drew a floppy sun on the top his notebook and was hit, quite fiercely, with the feeling of holy sh*t I think I’m in love with you.
He loved Hoseok. Truly. He had it bad. All he thought about the three weeks after graduation he spent trying to find a job was Hoseok; when he was going to see him next, what job he would get, if they would live together, what his future would be like and most importantly when he’d tell him how he really felt.
But Yoongi never did that. He kept his feelings a secret, like he always did. He wished Hoseok was telepathic and could dig into his brain to figure out his true feelings. He never liked admitting his true feelings, and in a situation like this where Hoseok was his best childhood friend, there would be no room for admitting them. Ever. If he jeopardized his relationship with Hoseok by admitting he was in love with him, he would just kiss it goodbye.
“I’m engaged!”
So, he never told him. And now he never will.
Yoongi blinks. And blinks again. He works all day and night writing and composing songs, working with words and his feelings, yet in this moment, he had none. Not one. His brain was white noise. He felt a significant crater form in his heart.
“Hyung?”
Yoongi’s smile is robotic, fake, and foreign on his face, “Wow,” he says, “that’s...amazing Hobi, really. I’m so shocked!” He clears his throat and Hoseok must take that as him getting choked up because Hoseok lunges at him and wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck in a fiercely tight hug. Yoongi feels like he’s suffocating, drowning in the daily air he breathes. Being shocked wasn’t a lie, though.
Hoseok’s giggle is heartbreaking as pulls away and looks over at Namjoon who is equally beaming with pride, and Hoseok explains, “He took me to Han River at night with all the lights, and I was so mesmerized that I didn’t even notice him down on one knee beside me,” he looks at Namjoon with reverent admiration and Yoongi feels like dying, “and he proposed and...I said yes. Of course I said yes, he’s...incredible. I can’t believe I’m getting married!” Hoseok stretches on his toes and presses his lips to Namjoon’s, a final bullet in Yoongi’s breaking façade.
He can’t feel his limbs. He feels absolutely and irrevocably numb. He is not real .
Hoseok’s smile is bright but Yoongi doesn’t feel anything but regret, sitting as a boulder in his stomach, “You’ll be my best man, right, Suga?”
That, right there. That nickname. That was the last straw. Yoongi feelshis eyes burning. He had to leave, now.
Yoongi’s mom gave him that nickname a long, long time ago. From an infant, she would call out to him “Suga, my sweet baby boy!” because his smile was as sweet as, well, sugar. And it stuck throughout his years. Hoseok had heard it growing up too but never became cognizant of it until he was about 12 years old and used it to get what he wanted from Yoongi. To get under Yoongi’s skin, deeper into his heart, and as a staple into his life. And it f*cking worked. Of course it did, because anything that came out of Hoseok’s sweet, heart-shaped smile was honey to Yoongi. Like ambrosia from the Greek gods, Yoongi ate and ate and ate but he was never sick of it. Every minute that passed he fell harder, faster, and deeper.
Yoongi forces himself to answer with his tongue of lead, “Of course, Hoseok-ah, of course. I’m excited,” lie, “I, uh,” he coughs, feeling slightly nauseous now, but putting on a novelty face, “I have a lot of work to get back to so, I was in a meeting,” lie, “text me with the details and...stuff. Nice to see you again Namjoon.”
Yoongi turns on his heel and walks as fast as he can away from his broken future. He doesn’t want to look at Hoseok’s face of confusion.
He goes back to work in a stupor. Though his exit was embarrassing, and he can’t stop thinking about the look on Hoseok’s face, he tries to process the information as best as he can. His best friend is getting married, huh. Out of all the things Hoseok was to tell him when he got to the park, he really didn’t expect that. Was he the first one he called? Was he the first one to know?
He tries to get back into work, tries to forget the bombshell that just got dropped on him. He slips on his industrial sized headphones, mixes a few songs, tries to lose himself in the thing he knows best—his music. His fingers feel like they’re floating and nothing seems to be coming out right. It’s frustrating. His usual best when working under a stressful time is usually producing about three songs, but he can’t even finish one. No words come to his mind, no chords to try. Nothing but the white noise in his mind.
After three hours of just stalemate, mediocre work, he rips off his headphones, huffing. There’s nothing he can do but replay the image of that ring on Hoseok’s finger. Anyone that knows Hoseok would be elated to know he’s engaged, and Yoongi should be happy...only he isn’t. Because it’s the person he’s in love with, and he’s unavailable now. Yoongi was too late.
What was he thinking anyway? Why has he been so hesitant to say something for so long? This all could have been avoided had he been persistent and done what he had to do. Had he just taken charge and not been so scared. Maybe it really is his fault.
Not being able to work sucks, too. There’s nothing promising for him on his computer. Maybe he needs a drink.
Sure, it may only be four o’clock in the afternoon, but Yoongi could care less. He’s done worse, he supposes. Being in this moment reminds him of a funny timein college with Hoseok, having just turned 19. Maybe he's just getting sappy remembering old memories, thinking that's all he'll have left when Hoseok gets married.
“You think they’ll really let us in? Like really really?”
“Of course, Hoseok-ah, you’re legal now. So they have to do a little math, but you’ll get in.”
“What if they think I’m lying? Oh god we’re gonna get in trouble, aren’t we?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes at his best friend, so concerned with the law, knowing full well he’s being ridiculous, “You’ve got to calm down, you’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.”
And it was fine. They got into the karaoke bar no problem. Yoongi laughed his ass off hearing Hoseok butcher some PSY, and slowly simmering to a contemplative mess, thinking about exixtence and meaning and—
“Holy sh*t, Yoongi, I’m so old.”
“You’re 19, shut the f*ck up.”
“No, you shut the f*ck up!”
“I’m not that much older you, seriously, calm down. You’re being dramatic.”
“But it feels likeso much,” he lamented, draped over the cushion, a Red Velvet song playing in the background, without vocals, “you act like you’re 50 years old.”
Yoongi barked in argument, “Sorry I’m not as rambunctious as I used to be when I was younger?”
Hoseok’s eyes glittered under the low lights, and Yoongi watches him nod, laughing suddenly, amused at the conversation, “We grew up together.”
“We did.”
“We’re getting old together.”
“We are.”
“I love you, man.”
“Me too. Happy birthday. Now go sing another song, I need to record it for blackmail.”
The bartender slips another bottle into his hand, and Yoongi takes a sip as if it was there the whole time on refresh, the cold beer sliding and seeping into his throbbing heart. He cannot believe his luck. He knew waiting to confess would get him in trouble someday, but he didn’t realize it would come this quickly.
And who was this Namjoon anyway? Why was he so great and deserving of Hoseok when Yoongi spent a good lifetime of years with him? Pining after him? Being his call late in night when he or Hoseok couldn’t sleep? Helping him pass his tests and smiling triumphantly when he made honors at graduation? Congratulated him when he got the marketing job of his dreams?
Did Yoongi not mean anything?
That’s a lie and Yoongi knew it. Drunk Yoongi didn’t. They’ve spent so much time together there’s no way he’d just switch that off. Now he was the one being dramatic. Alcohol made him morose.
Yoongi takes another long sip and considers for a brief second: maybe he can break up the engagement. Talk Hoseok out of it, out of getting married. And then when he’s done his job, he can tell Hoseok his true feelings. And they’ll be together. And it'll all be okay.
Yoongi groans and presses his forehead against the grimey bar, knowing that that is a horrible idea. He would never hurt Hoseok, not in any way. Yoongi remembers something his mother said long ago when his grandmother passed away: Sometimes when you love someone enough, you have to let them go.
As much as Yoongi hated it, and he hated it, he would have to let Hoseok go. Even if that way was kicking and screaming, he would. And maybe it would suck, but he has and always will have Hoseok’s best interest at heart. Even if right now his heart might as well be a drunk bastard wreaking havoc on his insides. Oh, no, wait, that was Yoongi. He was the drunk bastard.
“Rough day?” Yoongi hears a distant voice call.
Yoongi lifts his swirling head from the bar and looks in the general direction the voice came from. There was a guy, all limbs and hair, that Yoongi had never seen before. Yoongi had a hard time seeing as it was with his blurry alcoholic glasses, but this dude was smirking at him like it was the most amusing thing to see him wallowing in his own self pity.
“And you are?” he asks, far less eloquent then the guy next to him. He notices the guy nursing something bubbly, and for a second Yoongi wonders if he’s underage and trying to pick him up. Does he look that desperate.
“Depends on who you want me to be,” the sultry voice curls around Yoongi’s vulnerable subconscious.
He hums, amused, and Yoongi notices him slide a crisp white rectangle across the bar in Yoongi’s direction. What...oh, a business card. Yoongi can barely read as it is, so there’s no point in trying now.
“Call us tomorrow. We’ll help you get over him.”
“How did you…?” There’s no way this guy got any information out of him. Yoongi wants to protest, to ask who he is, but within seconds he’s walking away. And the movement of trying to chase after him has Yoongi’s vision tunneling rapidly. His legs feel weak as he tries to save himself from falling, but it’s no use. He’s blacking out.
He just hopes the floor will cushion his fall.
♬
Groaning miserably, Yoongi tries to pry his eyes open. He swears he’s dead and that the floor was in fact a comfy mattress, but he knows it isn’t.
“Oh my god,” a woman’s voice says, sweet and serene, but surprised, “you’re not dead.”He can’t feel any part of his body, and his head is actually filled with cement.
“Yoongi,” the voice speaks again, this time accompanied with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Damn him for drinking during the day. But damn his best friend for getting engaged.
He tries to move, tries to fire his synapses that feel demolished, and only manages to roll himself over. It feels like he aged overnight, judging by how much he aches.
The room is spinning worse now that he’s lying on his back, and he doesn’t dare to open his eyes. He hears Suran flutter around the room, hears the rush of water from a sink, and soon a cold towel is on his forehead. It does nothing to soothe the burning in his heart, though.
“I got a call from some random guy on your phone,” Suran explains quietly, and Yoongi feels a dip in the bed as she sits next to him, “said you blacked out at The Bulldog. Do I want to know what happened?”
The only reason he went to the bar was to forget, and all he ended up doing was drinking himself half dead. In the end, all the alcohol hadn’t made him forget. In fact, it made him think about it more but 100 times more.
“Hoseok’s engaged.” Yoongi murmurs.
The quiet sound of shock from Suran makes another crater happen in Yoongi’s heart. Suran is someone Yoongi works with quite often, someone who spends more time in his studio rather than her own apartment. They frequently work together on projects, and Yoongi admires her tenacity and ability to change things on the fly, like he does. She’s intelligent, talented, and bright, as an artist can be, as humble as can be and never rises above into the spotlight only if it’s some extreme collaboration she’s excited about. She’s also helped Yoongi a lot more than he plans to admit. They work really well together, but Yoongi never says that out loud. He likes keeping that information safe.
Suran knows about Yoongi’s feelings to Hoseok. Has known for a few years. Yoongi has grumbled so many times about not being able to confess out of fear of losing his friend, and Suran had been there to listen and to comfort him in times of stress, fear, and anxiety. She was super reliable, case in point, she picked up his drunk ass from the Bulldog at--god, what time was it?
“He asked me to be the best man,” Yoongi can feel the cold towel help his headache a little bit, but not by much. This monster was way too ferocious to battle alone. He did it to himself, as he normally does.
“That’s very...unfortunate.” Suran supplies.
“I’ll f*cking say.”
The silence stretches for a few moments more before Yoongi tries to sit up. It wasn’t the best decision, and he only has a few seconds before he locates the bathroom. Tears collect in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them be because of Hoseok. He lets them be because of his idiot self not having a stable diet and therefore making the alcohol absorb into his system quicker than normally possible. He steadies his breathing after a few rounds of dry heaving.
It takes him a while to feel better. He doesn’t know how long he spends there, trying to will away his headache and rolling stomach, but it feels like hours.
Finally, after some time where he feels a bit better to move, he stands up and splashes his face with some cold water. That helps a little. He reaches for the door only to have his foot land on something distinctly not tile, causing him to almost slip. When he lifts his foot to see a business card stuck to his foot. He peels it off and brings it to his face.
KimJin Inc. it reads in surreptitious gold leaf font on a textured white paper, and underneath Kim Taehyung, Escort Representative with a phone number.
“An escort?” Yoongi is incredulous. He has no recollection of meeting Kim whoever he was last night. What really happened last night? Who did he meet?
Feeling more ridiculous than he already has, he stuffs the business card in his pocket and leaves the bathroom one steady foot in front of the other. Suran is pretty gifted in the kitchen, so when Yoongi sits down at the white marble island bar he’s greeted with a pretty outstanding looking omelette, the perfect hangover remedy.
Suran makes one for herself and takes a seat for herself next to Yoongi, who practically dwarfs her in size. They eat silently, the weight of the information dawning on the both of them a moment at a time.
“So,” Suran opens, “are you going to do it?”
Yoongi sighs but swallows the food currently in his mouth, not surprised at how long it’s taking him to eat despite his queasy stomach, “I have to, don’t I?”
Suran hums, thoughtfully chewing, a napkin demurely placed on her lap, “You could, but you don’t have to. You could leave all the work to someone else.”
“And disappoint Hoseok? Yeah, right. I might as well kill him, that’s what me rejecting him would be like.” There were a lot of things Yoongi was good at, but disappointing Hoseok was not one of them. He hated that more than anything—failing someone’s expectations of him. Disappointing his best friend? Cataclysmic.
“Oh, stop being dramatic, Yoongi, that doesn’t look good on you.”
Suran’s never taken Yoongi’s dramatics. She always lets him know about the things he needs to hear when he’d rather ignore it. She’s good that way. Hoseok does make sure Yoongi is responsible for his actions, and Suran often kicks his ass back into shape, so the three of them together makes it easy for Yoongi to get the best advice. Even when he’s stubborn.
Yoongi takes another small bite of his omelette, relishes at how each bite helps ground him more to reality, “I thought about breaking it up.”
“Absolutely not. You’d break his heart and lose him forever.” The way Suran speaks always feels like being doused in cold water.
“If he gets married, I’ll lose him forever! It’s a f*cking lose/lose situation.”
Suran puts one of her dainty hands on top of Yoongi’s thigh, comforting, saying in a soft voice, “He’ll still be your best friend, Yoongi, just...with a different man. Nothing will change.”
Yoongi thinks about it, he doesn’t even know Namjoon’s fullname. And now he has to think of his best friend becomingsomeone else's husbandinstead ofhispartner...it makes him sad.
“Everything will change.” he says, his voice slightly whining.
Suran’s touch and voicedo not waver, “No, it won’t. Like I said, stop being dramatic. Finish eating. We’ll figure it out.”
Yoongi doesn’t feel any better when he leaves; physically or mentally.
It’s a long walk to his apartment. He deserves the walk after the night he had, the crisp, autumn air touching his face, reminding him that he’s not alone and he has other people to rely on. His thoughts are everywhere: what will Hoseok make me do? Will he make me hang out with him? Will he make me be the ring bearer too? What even does a best man do? Will he make me bring a plus one? Do I tell him how I feel before or after the wedding? Do I even tell him at all?
He about drives himself mad with anger. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans and curls his fists—against the business card. He completely forgot that it was in there. Pulling it out now, he inspects it again, the gold foil glistening pristinely in the sunshine. An escort ...could that mean—?
Yoongi’s phone vibrates as if it knew he wanted to check it, and it was a text from the person in question:
Hobi XD 1:34
good morning!!!!!!! namjoon and i talked and decided that we want to be married as soon as possible so we’re looking at the end of this month at my parents house!!! perfect, right? call me soon! :DDD
The end of this month? He can’t be serious. That’s in two and a half weeks! No one has the right mind to plan a wedding in that amount of time!
Then again, Hoseok has always been about spontaneity. Yoongi should have seen that one coming. He’s never been one to think too much into things and always wants to do things now or he’ll die trying. Yoongi, on the other hand, was a planner, to the utmost degree. Anything not planned freaked him out. He needed plans in order to feel in control. Right now, he didn’t feel any sense of control.No wonder Hoseok wanted him to be the best man—he basically gave all the sh*t to him to do cause Hoseok knew he’d do a fantastic job. Figures.
Yoongi looks at the business card, back at the text, back at the business card. Before he thinks about what he’s doing he’s punching the number on the card into his phone and putting it to his ear before the first ring. He’s a little bit desperate for some answers, he isn’t sure who will have them, but he’s going to find out.
“KimJin Escort Service, Kim Taehyung speaking, how may I help you?” a voice answers, and Yoongi stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk, pissing off someone nearby. He knows he’s heard that voice before. Last night?
“You,” is all Yoongi says.
The voice chuckles, the same sultry voice like chocolate through the phone receiver, “Yes, me. Is this who I think it is? ”
Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that. It does answer a small question of who he talked to last night.
“You’re a curious one,” the voice, Taehyung, purrs. Yoongi tries to put a face to the voice.
Yoongi takes a deep breath and releases it, “I’m...I don’t know what I am. Desperate? Confused? My best friend just got engaged yesterday and I’m all over the place.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
“Yeah, except I’m in love with him.”
Taehyung is sympathetic now, “Oh, sweetheart, that’s terrible to hear. Lucky for you, I have a solution. One second while I transfer you to my supervisor.”
Sweetheart, he called him. Yoongi wants to gag. He hates pet names.
There’s rustling on the other end of the phone before Yoongi is stopped, again, but this time by a different voice. One that has him listening a little more intently.
“Kim Seokjin, at your service. How may I help you? ”
Yoongi’s frustration level dissipates a little at the sound of this man’s voice, so different from Taehyung’s husky tone, but all the more alluring.
“What exactly would an escort do?” Yoongi asks, bluntly. He’s tired of beating around the proverbial bush. He’s blunt sometimes, too. He’s got too much bottled frustration.
He, Seokjin, is clearly amused, but not in a condescending way, “An escort can be whoever you need him to be. A date. A rebound. A one night stand. Someone you need to forget or someone you want to remember. For a specific price they become who you need the most.”
Yoongi has to sit down on a local bench for this. The information given to him feels like gold at the end of a viciously long rainbow. With a date, Yoongi can show Hoseok how much this doesn’t affect him. He can be the perfect best man despite the hurting of his heart. Suran is right, he won’t stop being his best friend, but that still doesn’t mean he won’t fall out of love with him. Maybe, if he brings someone to the wedding, Hoseok will become enraged with jealousy and figure out what he’s missing. Yoongi’s smile is prematurely wicked.
“A wedding date?”
“Absolutely. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“My best friend who I’m unbelievably in love with.” Yoongi isn’t sure why he’s being so honest with these strangers.
“Oh,that’s disappointing.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s terrible, I know. Is there any reason I can hire someone to be a buffer to make him jealous?”
Seokjin hums as if he’s mulling the idea in his head, “Breaking up relationships is strictly against my policy—”
“Please,” Yoongi begs, now, more desperate than a few minutes before, “Just...I won’t actively try to destroy their relationship. I just need someone to show him...I’m okay with it. Even if he doesn’t know I love him, I still want him to know it doesn’t affect me even as he marries someone else. And I’m still incredibly hungover and probably really idiotic for needing this but...I need you, I need someone.”
Yoongi can’t even believe he’s considering this, stooping to this level of delusion and thinking about hiring a fake wedding date to make his best friend jealous but…he is willing to try anything at this point. He wonders if he can be happy without Hoseok loving him back. Probably not. The hole in his heart hurts enough.
“If you need a wedding date, it’sa hundred sixtythousandwonper day, one million wonfor the week.” Seokjin sounds authoritative and business like now. Yoongi tries to picture the voice behind the phone, wondering if he’s some squatty, nasty old man and considers hanging up, but he can’t back down now. He’s never had a good imagination anyway.
But still, “One million? He better have a golden co*ck at that rate.”
Seokjin hums now, businessman voice being replaced by something else, “Mine’s insured at twenty four carat. Works just fine every other day too. You’d like it.”
Yoongi nearly chokes on his spit; can’t believe the reply and how quickly it rolled off this stranger’s tongue. Then he remembers the service. Whoever this person is, they are pulling out all the stops. He is pulling Yoongi in, hook, line and sinker.
He shakes his head, trying not to imagine whoever Kim Seokjin is with a golden co*ck, “Okay, okay. Say I needed a wedding date for a weekend, maybe a little longer, is someone available?”
“When is it?” the authoritative voice is back. Business as usual, Yoongi would say.
“The end of this month.”
“Wow,” Seokjin seems a little surprised by that, or maybe it’s fake, “we’re pretty booked solid. But, lucky for you, in times like these, you might have to deal with me.”
“And you’re sure you can make him jealous? You’re not ugly, are you?”
“You’re very straight-forward,” Seokjin remarks, “I’ll have you know that you’ll be properly stunned by my beauty, actually. World wide handsome.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes.
Still, he says, “You know what? f*ck it. There can’t be anything worse for me to do at this point. I’m desperate.”
If he imagines it, he can see this Seokjin figure sitting behind a desk using a calculator and a number 2 pencil tucked behind his ear, feet propped on the desk in a bored, relaxed manner. There really is no going back now.
“For such a late notice, and uncertainty about length of time, I’ll start the price at two million wonand go up—”
“Hold up, two million? I know I’m sh*t at math but I’m pretty sure that’s not right.”
Seokjin sighs, as if explaining this is child’s play, “I am the most experienced, therefore, the most expensive. Plus, this is my business. Are you in or are you out? I have better things to fill my time.”
“Fine, fine, two millionand some change. Does that get me anything else?”
“Mmm, it might. I’ll have to see what I’m really working with.”
Yoongi bristles, “Hey, f*ck you, I’m not ugly—”
“Relax, relax, I’m not talking about your face, darling,” Yoongi tries not to be taken with the change of tone into something joking, or the pet name, “I’ll meet you at the Lotte Hotel in a week. Six pm. At the bar. Wear a dry cleaned suit, a pink tie—”
“No, absolutely not.” There’s no way Yoongi would be caught dead wearing pink. It’s black or it’s not in his wardrobe.
“Are you refusing my services?”
The retort is so easy on Yoongi’s tongue. It’s so easy to hang up, to lose everything, to lose Hoseok after all. This has to work, no matter how ridiculous it is. He promised Suran he wouldn’t mess with the wedding, but this isn’t technically messing it up. It’s...trying to get Hoseok to see what he’s missing. Trying to get him to change his mind.
“No, no, f*ck,okay, I’ll wear a pink tie.”
Seokjin is smiling, Yoongi can tell by the way he speaks next, “Order a cosmopolitan for me and a whisky for yourself. I’ll expect the payment in cash and in person. I’ll see you then, cupcake.”
Yoongi doesn’t expect to reply, nor does he get a chance before Seokjin hangs up.
He’s already going down the rabbit hole. He might as well go down fighting with...whoever Seokjin is.
♬
“Are you f*cking kidding me?”
Yoongi rarely budges for anything, being too stubborn and too hard headed to let things affect him; and since Suran never censors herself, Yoongi always knows to expect her true, honest and visceral reactions. This moment, especially.
“No, I’m not f*cking kidding you,” he replies, his hands wrapped around his Americano like it’s his only life source, “this is the only way.”
He’s gotten good at handling Suran’s outrage, seeing it quite often because of his outlandish decisions. He’s been a follower of his head for quite some time, only a follower of his heart as far as Hoseok was concerned. And his heart was hurting too much to make a rational decision.
“You’re an idiot,” Suran’s she hisses, “you promised me you weren’t going to interfere with Hoseok’s wedding!”
Yoongi flicks his hand in a dismissive wave, “I’m not interfering with sh*t; personally, anyway. This is just a ploy to get him jealous and realize that he’s making the wrong decision.”
“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Suran emphasizes again, “an escort? You could just bring me! Ever thought about that?”
Yoongi takes a deep sip of his coffee and eyes Suran across the table. She has a silent beauty about her, a dramatic smile and fiery eyes, all matching her outgoing and loyal personality. Yoongi has thought about it a few times before, dating her, but being with her makes him realize there’s something lacking within himself that he can’t give to her. He can’t figure out that feeling, but he knows that it wouldn’t work between them beyond a professional work relationship. Plus, they’re close enough that they have that brotherly and sisterly bond; they bicker too much, f*ck around too much, don’t apologize or back down enough—a modern tragedy. Not to mention that there was that moment last year.
It happened like this: one of the songs they produced was climbing the charts, being injected into international radio and recognized globally. It was amazing for the group they wrote it for, but for the masterminds behind it, it was madness. It was...it was a feeling Yoongi never wanted to forget. Success. Recognition.
Both of them wanted to celebrate this iconic milestone in their lives by going to their local favorite bar with a couple of close friends and colleagues. Hoseok was busy at work, which was disappointing to Yoongi cause he wanted to celebrate with his best friend but, true to Yoongi fashion, filled the void with as much vodka as he could handle. Suran, on the other hand, was attached to his side the whole night, arm threaded through his, slurring happily, “my producer, my brilliant producer, Yoongi-ssi” into his ear when they were alone. And, f*ck it, Yoongi was so gone he couldn’t care less, turned to the side and kissed her square on the mouth. Suran was slightly surprised, but melted into him like a stick of butter, tasting like gin and carbonated soda. When they broke away, she squinted as if she ate a rotten piece of fruit, made a mock gagging noise, and they both laughed. They both vowed to never do that again. Yoongi wondered once or twice after that what it would be like to date her, but he knew it wouldn’t make him happy. He needed her, of course, but not romantically. He needed her as his level headed confidant, someone to keep hold of his secrets and fears, not attach their hearts together.
“That wouldn’t have worked, you have something he’s not interested in,” Yoongi comments. Suran wasn’t phased. Yoongi didn’t see gender when it came to dating, and it didn’t bother Suran either. He was only stating the truth for Hoseok.
“I can’t wait for this to blow up in your face,” she smirks, sitting back in her seat now.
“Why do you want this to fail? Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“Yoongi,” she says, suddenly exasperated, “you’re not thinking clearly. Of course I want you to be happy, you idiot, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore than you’re about to.”
It makes sense, then, why Suran is so against it. She had seen it before, seen Yoongi hurt before.Yoongi acted tough, but under that exterior, his insides were as gummy as a marshmallow. He felt too strongly and that bit him in the ass quite frequently.
“Noona,” Yoongi only uses the honorific when truly speaking to her, “I won’t get hurt. Not anymore than I already am seeing that ring on his finger.” Suran’s eyes glisten in a different way under the fluorescent lights. Yoongi knows she likes being called that, even if he doesn’t say it often, but it’s when both of their defenses are truly down and he’s vulnerable with her, does he use it.
Suran sighs now as if the urge to fight has left her body, “Alright. You do what you must. You know I’ll pick you up if you fall.”
“That’s my line.”
The truth is, Yoongi’s seen Suran at her worst, too.
“Now,” she continues as she tucks one leg over the other in a demure posture, chin resting on her fist and eyeing him, “how the f*ck are we gonna get you into a pink tie?”
Yoongi smirks, “Right? I might burn at the sight.”
♬
A suit. Of all things to wear, a suit? This is not his usual attire, by any means. Give him a piece of black clothing and his heart was at ease. He almost dry heaved when Suran tied his pink tie this morning. Mystery Man Seokjin didn’t say anything about the color of the suit, which, to Yoongi, had to be black as the midnight sky. It made him feel better. A little more...in control.
And the Lotte Hotel? Yoongi could have met him at a Starbucks, that would have been less suspicious. The hotel is, at the least, ostentatious on the outside. Silver and gleaming, it fits in with the rest of Seoul’s skyline, but the inside. The inside is as if a goldsmith threw up inside of it. Yoongi wasn’t a fan of gold; he prefered silver, but this was too much . He wonders if he’ll ever make enough money as this lobby costs. He then laughs at his thought. There’s no way.
It takes him a few minutes of idiotically perusing the lobby, mentally kicking himself when he finally finds it. Being almost six o’clock, there were a few customers probably grabbing an easy pre-dinner co*cktail. Yoongi surveys his surroundings: at the elderly man with his loosened tie, hand protectively curled around a beer bottle, phone in the other hand; at the woman across from him sneaking the businessman a secretive glance, wearing red lipstick like the heart on her sleeve; at the couple in the bar to his left, laughing, happy. He remembers the phone call, remembers what he was supposed to do, but he thought that he wouldn’t be the first one here.
Sighing, he walks over to lean on the bar, telling the bartender, “A cosmo, heavy cranberry, and a glass of Balvenie, neat. Better yet, make mine a double.”
The whisky eases him a little bit. Having something to preoccupy his fingers helps a little more, as he turns around to survey the area again. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. No, he knew what he expected. The person on the phone sounded haughty, fine laced and demure. Yoongi took a sip of his whisky, thinking. He’ll probably arrive with trumpets and a red carpet, with a basket of white doves—
“It seems you’re already disobeying orders, darling,” says a voice behind him. He nearly drops his whisky glass.
He slowly sets the glass down on the marble counter and turns to his right, where, as if an apparition, was a god. Or a man. No, a god. He was definitely otherworldly; unflinchingly handsome. His shiny, brown hair was perfectly styled to show off his forehead, which gave way to a beautiful set of matching brown eyes, a prominent nose, and plush lips...lips that were currently sipping the heavily magenta cosmopolitan. Yoongi forgot all his words, looking at him.
“Kim Seokjin?” he questions. He can feel the whisky tickling his stomach. Of course he wouldn’t arrive with a golden chariot, but almost give Yoongi two heart attacks. One, for the scare, and two, for his face. Did Aphrodite sculpt him herself?
The man co*cks his head, eyes blinking slowly but in a sultry fashion, “The one and only. What’s your name, sugar?”
Yoongi licks his lips that suddenly lost all moisture, and Seokjin’s gaze flickers to the movement as he says, “Min Yoongi.” He remembers that he never even said his name on the phone call. Idiot.
Seokjin lifts a hand, efficiently businesslike, and Yoongi shakes it. It’s a firm grip, and Yoongi notes at the delicate curves of his fingers. Crooked and charming, but elegant. “Nice to meet you. You still disobeyed an order.”
“What could that be? I’m suffocating in a pink tie; I have a clown suit on and two million wonburning a giant hole in my pocket.”
Seokjin reaches a hand over and takes the glass from Yoongi’s hand on the counter, lifts it to his lips and downs at least half of the liquid in one swift gulp, and then hands it back, “I said one, not a double.”
The easy, domineering tone in Seokjin’s voice makes Yoongi’s muscles stiffen. Not only is it amusing, but it’s kind of attractive. He definitely isn’t educated on all an escort can do, but he can see why this guy is the number one of the company. It’s effortless, the way he talks. His body sits elegantly on the stool, broad shoulders tapering to a small waist—and with a suit, f*ck, he wears it well—his legs crossed at the knee. He’s in control, and something about both his verbal and body language tellsYoongi he can’t step out of line. It also says that Seokjin can be trusted unflinchingly, even with only a few words spoken between them so far.
“Can you blame me?” Yoongi’s tongue feels like lead when he speaks; stupefied, numb lead, “this is new for me.”
“Hiring an escort or talking to a handsome man?” Seokjin questions, his lips lifting in a smirk. Yoongi clenches his jaw, “Hey, don’t get your boxers in a twist.”
Yoongi doesn’t really have time to react when he feels Seokjin’s hands on his tie, at his neck. The adjustment on his tie puts a sudden, acute pressure to his throat, slightly asphyxiating as the knot tightens, as Seokjin says, “I’m a briefs kind of man, actually. There’s more,” Seokjin pulls on the tie to pull Yoongi forward so his lips reach the shell of Yoongi’s ear, his voice a deadly, seductive whisper, “control.”
This is a bad idea. Suran was right. This was a horrible idea.
But Yoongi wasn’t a quitter. Once he had a motive he stuck to it. He wasn’t going to let Suran behis date to the wedding; he had to see this through. This flirting nonsense had to stop, now.
Yoongi pushes Seokjin’s hands aside and reaches a hand into his pocket, pulling out the giant, overstuffed envelope and slapping it onto the counter. Seokjin doesn’t look fazed. He doesn’t really look at the envelope, really. He takes another casual sip of his martini glass.
Yoongi stiffens at the unspoken accusation, “It’s all there.”
Seokjin takes another small sip, “I didn’t ask.”
“Your eyes did.”
“My eyes,” Seokjin echoes thoughtfully. He flutters his eyelashes in Yoongi’s direction, “What else do they tell you?”
Yoongi contemplates breaking eye contact to order something else, something stronger than this whisky, to calm him, but goes forward regardless, “That this could be trouble.”
Seokjin huffs in pleasant laughter, as if Yoongi’s concern was ridiculous, “The number one rule for my employees is to never fall for the patron. Doing so ensures a permanent leave of employment. And since I am the owner, that means the most to me. You won’t have to worry about a thing. Though,” he sighs dreamily, “I can’t say the same for you.”
“Oh, trust me,” Yoongi downs the rest of his whisky, now, the cold amber liquid coating his pride, “I’m trying to get to my best friend, not you. There’ll be no feelings involved.”
“A strong man,” Seokjin muses, “I admire that.”
Yoongi stands a little straighter at the compliment, although unwarranted, as Seokjin pushes on, “I gauge every patron differently. Some need more physical contact than others, some, not at all. Some just want a night, some want what they think is forever, but the end result is always the same: I leave at the end.”
“Right.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I have to be,” Yoongi admits, a little selfishly. The whisky is telling him he can trust Seokjin, and can trust himself not to fall for him, “I can’t lose him. He’s...” the unfinished sentence speaks volumes. It’s fear, it’s underlying panic, it’s love. It’s everything Yoongi can’t admit.
Seokjin doesn’t parrot Suran’s words earlier that week, which Yoongi is beyond thankful for. Instead, he finishes his cosmo, turns to the bartender and orders two shots of chilled vodka. He pulls the envelope and places it in his suit pocket, looking like an angel and devil combined in one.
Seokjin hands Yoongi a shot and keeps one for himself, reaching out for a cheers, “To jealousy.”
Yoongi downs the shot. This needs to work. It has to.
♬
“Suran holy f*ck.”
“What? Is he hot?”
“Unfairly.”
“Wow,” she says, her shock carrying over the phone, “too bad he’s unavailable, then?”
”It doesn’t matter if he’s unavailable or not, he’s not the one I want.”
Suran hums, unfazedby Yoongi’s answer.
“Think about it this way,”Yoongi takes a deep breath, realizing his loaded words, “He’s theguy you wannawrite songs about.”
“Oh.”
♬
Since Yoongi is the best man, he would be need to be wherever Hoseok needed him, for planning and moral support. Thankfully Seokjin had an idea (or two) on how to plan a wedding and be a best man. The first thing on the agenda was for Yoongi to plan an elegant dinner with Hoseok and Namjoon, pretending that it would be a planning session, and then last minute he would “invite” Seokjin to introduce each other. Since the wedding was at the end of the month, things would be moving quickly. But for Yoongi, it didn’t really matter. It was faster than the years he spent in silent pining for Hoseok, but it had to work. There was no other choice.
A few days after finally meeting Seokjin, Yoongi scrolls through his phone and doesn’t even glance at the caller ID picture before putting the phone to his ear.
“Well if it isn’t my best man!” Hoseok answers with bright enthusiasm, “This is unusual that you call first. Usually that means you want something, or you ran into legal trouble.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes at the absurdity, “It does not. I call often! And when have I gotten into legal trouble? You’re being an instigator.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, what’s up?”
Yoongi says exactly what Seokjin told him to, “I’m calling because I need to get you and Namjoon together to talk about some wedding details. Can you two meet me at JW’s tonight? I have reservations for seven o’clock.”
The incredulous gasp from Hoseok makes Yoongi’s heart skip, “JW’s? Are you trying to wine and dine me? Woo me into thinking you’re the superior groomsmen? Cause Hyungwon would be devastated.”
“He’s not the best man, is he?” Yoongi does kind of wish he were wining and dining Hoseok purely for selfish reasons, but, that will come later, once he’s finished this mission, “will you come?”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll come,” the we is unpleasant, but still, “I can’t believe you. JW’s? I have to put on a nice suit.”
“You look good in suits and you know it.” Compliments for Hoseok are so easy, especially the way he takes them. Yoongi never regrets them, even now.
“Thank you! That means a lot! Namjoon looks good in a suit too, oh man, wait until you see hi—”
“Alright, I’ll see you tonight,” Yoongi interrupts, “later!” and hangs up before Hoseok can say anything.
Yoongi can’t hate Namjoon because he barely even knows him, nor did he do anything wrong against Yoongi. He’s just hurt that he couldn’t do something on his own and was too late before another man swooped in. He needs to be more understanding and not so aggressive.
Me 3:10
He took the bait. Time to set the trap.
KimJin 3:12
You’re being juvenile. It’s just dinner, not a secret mission.
Me 3:24
Okay, okay, fine. I got them to agree, alright?
KimJin 3:25
Feel like wearing that pink tie again? ;)
Me 3:33
f*ck you.
KimJin 3:35
I’ll have to pencil you in, but I think I can make it work.
Yoongi wants to roll his eyes and let the comment brush off his shoulders, but everything out of Seokjin’s mouth, text included, is smooth. Like a cheesecake with strawberry syrup, he lathers Yoongi up and expects him to be moony eyed the entire time. Yoongi is stronger than that. He isn’t supposed to fall for Seokjin, anyway, so he knows it’s all a farce.
He doesn’t put on his suit again from the other night, but instead opts for a crisp button down shirt tucked into some slacks because he’s not a total animal when it comes to fashion. He just doesn’t like the claustrophobic feeling of a suit; he needs mobility. And above all, comfort.
Yoongi gets to the restaurant a little too early, so he texts Seokjin just to make sure the plan is still on.
Me 6:54
What time are you going to show up?
KimJin 6:56
We need to surprise them, not overwhelm them. I’ll call you at 7:15.
Me 6:58
Right. Talk to you then.
“Hey!” Yoongi looks up to see Hoseok weaving through the clean linen tables and shiny wine glasses, Namjoon following closely behind. Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said Hoseok looked really good in suits—the dark navy colors complements his dark skin and, even with red hair he knows how to work any kind of clothing. Yoongi stands up and grabs Hoseok into a tight, familiar hug, and then turns to shake Namjoon's hand. Namjoon cleans up well too, Yoongi supposes, opting for a light blue button down underneath a dark jacket and matching slacks. His hair is perfectly styled and he wears thick framed glasses, practically implying he’s intelligent. Yoongi wants to knock him down a peg.
“How did you even get reservations here?” Hoseok asks. He sits at the seat directly across from Yoongi at the four top table, looking around, “This place is usually packed solid for weeks.”
I have my ways, Yoongi wants to say, you’ll see him soon, “Just got lucky, I guess.”
“Lucky, my ass. You’re as lucky as Joonie is, which is rare.” Hoseok is moony eyed, looking at Namjoon like he pulls stars from the sky.
Namjoon hangs his head in a shy fashion, “I’m only lucky if I don’t break anything nearby. My touch is...not delicate.”
Hoseok laughs overtly as if it’s some amazing joke, reaches out and begins petting the hairs on the back of Namjoon’s neck, affection smearing his face. It hurts Yoongi a little.
He checks his phone, a thrilling feeling at the time: 7:09. Seokjin will be calling soon. His skin tingles in anticipation. He’s not sure what type of reaction Hoseok will have, but he hopes it is big. He’s going through multiple situations in his mind, all of them really exceptional.
All three of them just have time to open the menu when Yoongi’s phone lights up on the table, the vibration making him jump. 7:15 on the dot, nothing more, nothing less.
“Important call?” Hoseok asks, curiously. He knows Yoongi never has his phone out at reserved moments like this.
Yoongi leaves him in suspense, giving him a look, as he raises the phone to his ear, “Hello?”
“Ready for the show?” Seokjin’s melodic voice asks, “I’m on my way down the street. Call me by a pet name to interest them.”
Yoongi has to visibly force his face to not grimace as he says, “Hey, baby, how are you?”
Seokjin laughs pristinely on the other side of the phone. Yoongi looks over at Hoseok for a brief second, his eyebrows pinched in confusion, just as he had thought. He’s got him hooked. “That’s weak, I need to teach you in that department, too, it seems. Come up with an excuse for me to come to dinner.”
“Oh, nothing much. Just having dinner with Hoseok and Namjoon,” he refuses to say the word fiancé, “do you want to swing by? We have an extra seat.”
“You are a terrible actor, I’m ashamed to be associated with you. Maybe I’ll make you my protegé.”
“No, you won’t be an imposition. Why don’t you come by?”
“Tell me you missed me and can’t wait to see me.”
Yoongi’s heart thumps erratically in his chest, he’s not sure why, this is all fake after all. The commands are forceful, but direct. No room for error. He just hopes that he can at least act like he’s a lovesick fool in front of Hoseok; hopes he can sell it.
“I promise, it’ll be fine,” Yoongi pauses, “I missed you too. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Now is where we really sell it. I’m walking in soon. Put on a happy face.”
“See you soon.”
Yoongi hangs up shortly after that, pocketing his phone now that he knows the phone call he had been waiting for had arrived and he had no use for it. He was anticipating the look on Hoseok’s face, and when he looked, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of self-righteousness, appreciation for this plan actually working. Hoseok’s face shows shock, so much so that his lips are parted in surprise.
“Who,” Hoseok coughs and tries again, “who was that?”
Yoongi looks at the menu to act as though he doesn’t know what the big deal is. Underneath, he’s giddy. It’s working, he thinks excitedly, it’s f*cking working. I’ll make you mine, Hoseok, just wait.
Before Yoongi can answer Hoseok’s question, he sees a figure in his peripherals. When he looks, he feels nothing. No affection, no passion, just as if he was a stranger. And he is, practically.
But his face deceives him, it has to, for this to be legitimate. He smiles, charming, as he takes in Seokjin walking towards their table. He looks impeccable as always, hair shining and styled to perfection, tailored suit looking like a second skin, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned showing his protruding collarbones. Yoongi stands up and instead of needing to think between a handshake or a hug, Seokjin smiles so prettily before reaching an arm up and around Yoongi’s shoulder, bringing them together in an intimate hug. He smells exquisite. He even presses a kiss to his cheek in greeting as he pulls away.
“I’m sorry for intruding,” Seokjin apologizes as he unbuttons his suit jacket and takes a seat, “it’s nice to finally meet you two. Yoongi has told me a lot about you both!” Only Yoongi would be able to hear the underlying condescending tone, and it makes him want to smile. This is almost too good.
Hoseok smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “I don’t mean to be rude, but, who are you?”
Seokjin then takes the opportunity to turn to face Yoongi, his face showing shock, but Yoongi knows it’s for show, “Yoongi! You haven’t talked about me to your friends? Are you trying to hide me? That’s not nice.”
Yoongi grits his teeth, “I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, very calculatedly, “it seems I wanted to keep you all to myself.” He leans in a little bit to make himself seem a little starry eyed with affection.
Seokjin pouts, his eyes glittering. He’s good, Yoongi thinks. Anyone within his business must know this, must know how well Seokjin adapts to situations. No wonder he runs a successful business at the age he does. He’s completely separated his business from reality.
“I’m Yoongi’s boyfriend, Kim Seokjin,” Seokjin turns back to the other guests at the table.
“Boyfriend?” Hoseok echoes. Yoongi can hear the absolute surprise and he wants to smile, wants to dance, want to grin. This isn’t like Hoseok. He almost seems...jealous. But it’s far too early in this game for him to be jealous. He’s most likely mute with shock, cause who else would be?
“Is that so hard to believe? You paint me as a monk, Hoseok,” Yoongi laughs.
“You...you never mentioned that you had a boyfriend.”
Yoongi tries not to jump when he feels Seokjin’s hand rest on his thigh, playing up the affection they had discussed earlier. This is all part of the plan, after all. And this part of the plan meant that Yoongi could handle public affection, but nothing too grandiose or obnoxious. Small things speak monumentally, sometimes. He likes having his hand held, above all else.
“I never mentioned him cause I didn’t want to brag. And I kind of did want to keep him to myself, is that so bad?” Not really the truth, but what about this is?
Yoongi makes eye contact with Seokjin, his eyes so full of adoration and love that it looks legitimate, so much so Yoongi’s heart skips just once because he is a guy, and Seokjin is a beautiful man. That isn’t hard to deny, not then and not now. Of course he’s attractive, but Yoongi knows where he stands.
“How did you two meet?” Namjoon asks, full of oblivion. Yoongi doesn’t hate him in this moment, he’s egging it on.
Seokjin doesn’t look at them as he explains, playing the ever present lovestruck fool, “We met at one of my work events, actually. I’m an event planner,” lie, “and there was a mixer I had planned for both companies in the area looking for partner expansion, one of which was the company Yoongi works for. There were so many people but somehow Yoongi was able to single me out, and instead of mixing with other guests, he wouldn’t leave my side, and asked if I wanted to get a drink once it was over,” Seokjin looks fondly at Yoongi now, their eye contact impressive and strong, “and it was kind of uphill from there. We have been dating for about two, almost three months now. It's still new, but so far so good.”
The thing is, this is just the fictional story they planned out earlier in the week when they met at the Lotte hotel. Yoongi, he works as a producer of a production company,learning songs and producing for other companies, composing forcommercials or scenes of small movies, sometimes musicians too if they ask specifically for him. Though he does get to work with music all day, not all of it is primarily his own. Mostof it is. The work he does do for himself keeps him up during the night, hence, the horrendous sleep schedule. He does what he loves, regardless.
Seokjin had come up with the plan to act as an event planner as his disguise, not completely far from the truth. In reality, he plans escorts with patrons, in disguise, he plans events for big companies, meaning he is both always busy as well as sociable. Thus, the story of how they met. They discussed many possibilities before landing on one that sounded the least suspicious.
The hand on Yoongi’s thigh squeezes for support, and as much as he wants to see Hoseok’s face, he knows it would be better to keep the facade up by looking at Seokjin, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. We went out that night and practically every weekend since. He’s amazing.”
Seokjin, and Yoongi wasn’t sure this was acting, blushed under the compliment. He was being humble, but Seokjin’s versatility as an actor was superb.
Yoongi almost stiffens when Seokjin leans in, because, of course, couples have to kiss. They never discussed in detail though, a sign or something of an impending kiss. There’s a small look in Seokjin’s eyes, a warning of sorts, before he leans in to meet him. Seokjin’s lips are soft, pliant, and they know exactly what they’re doing. It’s a quick kiss; over before it’s begun, and Yoongi’s lips tingle a little after it’s over.
“Now then, have you ordered?”
The spell lasts for the entire dinner. Seokjin’s hand on Yoongi’s thigh does too. Yoongi doesn’t totally mind it, but he does wonder if Seokjin is overdoing it. They fall into easy conversations, Hoseok looking a little confusedat times, but nonetheless involved. They drink delicious wine, eat exquisite food, and by the time the bill comes, Seokjin offers to pay.
“You’re my guest, baby, you don’t need to pay,” Yoongi chides playfully. He feels the wine warming his belly, it makes him lean into Seokjin’s space a little more, leans back against Seokjin’s arm resting behind him on the chair.
“It’s not a problem,” Seokjin says as he easily slips his card into the bill holder, “call it an early wedding present. A treat to the happy couple, yeah?”
Yoongi needs to thank him for that one later, because it was too good. It wasn’t meant to be mean, but Yoongi can appreciate the first part of this plan happening like this, happening like they expected it. It makes Yoongi a little bit more giddy, realizing that this could actually work.
Of course, breaking up a relationship isn’t the goal here, but having Hoseok realize what he’s had for years right in front of him, is. Seokjin had made Yoongi realize along their conversation that he would feel bad if he broke up a genuine relationship, which is why he wasn’t actively going to sabotage it directly but do small things indirectly to make Hoseok realize...he could be wrong. That’s why he has help. To not blind him. To keep him on a path that won’t make him turn into someone he doesn’t like.
Yoongi pretends to be clingy the rest of the night, leaning into Seokjin's body at any given point of the time together. He blames it on the wine. Hoseok looks uncomfortable on the way out of the restaurant, and gives a quick goodbye before climbing into the car with Namjoon at the driver’s seat.
When they pull away, Yoongi starts to laugh maniacally, bubbling in his chest, making him feel like a kid again. He hadn’t been this excited over a plan in a long time. He was legitimately amazed at how simple it was, at how easily he could act around Seokjin.
“Oh, man,” Yoongi sighs when he steps away from Seokjin’s space, “did you see the look on his face? He was devastated!”
Seokjin hums, “Remember—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you don’t break up relationships. Technically, I’m the one doing it, not you, so you don’t have to worry. And technically I’m not doing it either. It’s technically Hoseok doing it to himself.”
“Technically.” Seokjin parrots in a drowsy tone.
“Look,” Yoongi sways a little, the wine actually making him dizzy, but giddy, in a good way, “I paid you, okay? I’m not going to do anything drastic. If anything, that might have planted some doubt in his head. So far, this all according to plan.”
Seokjin doesn’t look too sure, and Yoongi can see that. He feels a little angry that Seokjin is so doubtful.
“Are you backing out already?”
Seokjin sighs, “No, I’m not, because my word is everything to me. But if you get too far into your own head about this plan of yours, then I walk away, no questions asked.”
Yoongi waves his hand, dismissing the thought, “If I trip up, I give you permission to punch me, okay? Would that make you feel better?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Wine makes you childish.”
Yoongi scoffs, “That I can agree on. But I do better with whisky. You wanna go for a nightcap?”
Of course they had discussed before they started that there are boundaries within this business relationship that couldn’t be crossed, and though Yoongi drank a few glasses of wine, he remembered it well: no one-sided alcoholic induced decisions between them. Even though they did have a few drinks when they first met, they didn’t have a deal back then so the rule didn’t apply. It did, however, come up later in their conversations of how to move forward with their business plan. Yoongi knew that alcohol would sometimes cloud his vision in his efforts towards his goal, so he agreed, even though he did find it a little ridiculous. But, he knew when to respect a rule when he met one. That’s why he suggested that if one of them were to drink that the other wouldn’t so there would be a clear balance between them in terms of the good choices.
Tonight he did allow himself to have more than one glass, only to cover up his nervousness with the unknown success of the night, and Seokjin didn’t have anything but the complimentary glass of water. He wondered if he would always be the one drinking, judging by how demure Seokjin was when in business mode.
“I was testing you,” Yoongi grinned, “and you passed. I guess I’ll see you the next time we meet? I’m not sure when that is yet. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll get you a taxi.” Seokjin nods.
Yoongi goes to sleep that night feeling a little more excited over this plan working than he did a week ago. Maybe Hoseok will be his after all. He just needs to learn to trust Seokjin’s judgement a little more.
And ignore the way that Seokjin is a really good actor.
♬
“Am I allowed to ask you questions?” Yoongi asks after a lengthy sip of coffee.
Seokjin replies easily, “Of course, I’m an honest man. I’m just like you, with a unique profession.”
“Right. Of course.” Unique.
Still, Yoongi doesn’t judge Seokjin. He’s never judgemental. He’s learned a lot from him, actually. He's a very intelligent person.
A couple of days have passed since Hoseok and Namjoon first met Seokjin at dinner, the first part of their plan. Hoseok has been a little more communicative than normal, asking for input on where Yoongi is in planning the wedding on such a short amount of time, and Yoongi’s already made a good headway. Hoseok had let his parents know about this plan a few days ago and they’d been completely ecstatic about not only the plan but the engagement but that he wants it to happen in his childhood home. Since then Yoongi’s made small plans here and there all the while slipping in small reminders of Seokjin being around. Yoongi’s heart hurts a little the more time passes because the wedding is getting closer. He feels the buzz of anxiety over losing Hoseok in the back of his skull growing bigger which each passing day.
Luckily, Seokjin has an uncanny knack of helping Yoongi focus on the directive, which is good. Although, the atmosphere around Seokjin is so emotionally positive that Yoongi anticipates meeting up with him.
Case in point, they met up at Yoongi’s favorite local coffee shop, breaking down their plan to go together to Hoseok’s tux fitting in a half hour. Seokjin would come with Yoongi only out of the rouse that he needs a good tie for the wedding. In reality, Yoongi wishes Seokjin could stay longer because he knows a lot more about suits than Yoongi does.
“Okay, hmm,” Yoongi hums, “have you traveled out of the country?”
Seokjin nods, unperturbed by the odd start to the twenty questions, “I have visited Europe once before. I stayed mostly north, though, so Finland, Norway, Sweden, those mainly. And it was gorgeous, absolutely unreal and nothing like Seoul. People actually breathed there,” Seokjin looked out the window nearby in reflection, “they were peaceful and kind, whereas here everyone has to go, all the time.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Ever thought of taking KimJin international?” Yoongi asks. He cradles his warm mug of coffee in his hands. For early fall, the air outside has a slight chill to it, nothing too biting yet. It’s Yoongi’s favorite time of the year before the weather becomes too harsh, full of cold fingers and sniffling noses.
Seokjin laughs, bemused at the idea, “I doubt I’d get very far. My English isn’t as good as it should be. I do know how to complain to someone, though.”
“Oh? How would you say it?”
Seokjin pinches his face in a comical way and shakes his fist and says in a mighty gusto, “Oh, I’m angry!”
The unexpected timing and enthusiasm of Seokjin’s statement causes Yoongi to lean back in his seat, harsh laughter bubbling off his lips because f*ck, that was actually really funny. Seokjin’s humor is subtle, sometimes, and when it hits, it hits.
“Yeah, you’d get far with that,” Yoongi chuckles, feeling really light, “Now that I think about it, Hoseok told me once that Namjoon spent some time in America and his English is impeccable. I hear about it every time he says the word ‘cappuccino’. Annoying.”
Yoongi is trying to not flat out despise the man, because, let’s face it, he’s a nice guy. He’s just a nice guy who’s taking over the love of Yoongi’s life. If there was another alternate universe, maybe they’d be friends. Namjoon tries to be that way with everyone.
“That’s a hard word, though. But no, no international patrons. Anything else you want to know?”
“Yeah,” the question has been on the tip of Yoongi’s tongue since he saw Seokjin’s face in full view at the hotel, “how...did you get started? With the company, I mean.”
“Ah.” Seokjin doesn’t look shy, like people normally do when talking about work, or morose, when they think about how draining work is. No, he gets a soft glimmer in his eye, and explains, “I’ve always had a penchant for helping people; for as long as I can remember I was always the person to call when someone needed advice or company. In college I had this beautiful young woman I had a few classes with approach me and ask me to be her fake date to impress another guy he knew would be at a party, and I accepted, because I also just happen to love love. That night after some extreme jealousy, they got together that night and stayed together since. And no,” he looks Yoongi in the eye, “I didn’t break up an existing relationship, just made the man see what was in front of him all along,” Seokjin inhales and sighs, “I also have a love of acting, so I found a way to combine the two. I act as someone’s significant other to help them get over someone else or act as someone they need, help certain people get together, and it helps them. Most of the time. I’ve definitely had some lawsuits.”
Yoongi is concerned, “For doing your job?”
Seokjin’s shrug is so blasé that it says a lot of how much he can handle, “It comes with the territory. Being an escort doesn’t particularly have a good ring to it, so that’s why I named my company KimJin Inc. so only inclusive patrons know what I really do. Some people actually do think I am a party planner, so the scene at dinner the other night was one I had done before. It helps to know your material.”
Yoongi takes another sip, thoughtful, “Hoseok sure didn’t see it coming.”
“It was quite a surprise,” Seokjin gently smiles, agreeing.
The scoff out of Yoongi’s mouth is his form of agreement, “I could have told you that, I already lived it.”
Seokjin’s eyes flit to over Yoongi'sshoulder before he boldly leans over to take Yoongi’s hand in his, and Yoongi almost slips his hand out of the grip for his own sake because—
“Yoongi?”
Seokjin must see who called his name before him, because his grip on Yoongi’s hand squeezes, saying don’t let go, and smiles beyond his shoulder.
Yoongi looks up and, against his better judgement, has his breath stolen from his chest like he alway does when he sees Hoseok.
“Hobi,” Yoongi says with a knot in his throat, Seokjin’s hand pressing on his, intent on being the support he hired him to be, “hey, what are you doing here?”
Hoseok shoves his hands in his pockets, “I came to grab some coffee for Namjoon since he’s hard at work before my tux fitting,” Yoongi notices he didn’t say Joonielike he normally does.
The pressure on Yoongi’s hand disappears and Yoongi looks frantically to his right at Seokjin maneuvering out of the booth, his smile soft as he says, “I’ve gotta head back to work,” Seokjin says sweetly, “it’s nice to see you again, Hoseok, let me know if there’s anything you need from us for the wedding, okay?”
And Yoongi’s heart skips a beat when Seokjin walks around the table, leans down into Yoongi’s space, places a warm hand on his jaw with his thumb on Yoongi’s chin—
For play. It’s all pretend. But this kiss is not pretend. Not in the way Yoongi lights up at the coffee taste on Seokjin’s lips.
“Call me later, Yoongichi!” And he vanishes. As if he never existed at all. And maybe he never did. Maybe it’s all still in his head. He’s reeling from the kiss and the change of plans, now realizing that Seokjin will no longer accompany him to the appointment in a few minutes. They’ve planned a lot out, but when things change it throws him off. Yoongi tries not to be disappointed, but—
Yoongichi?
“Yoongi.” He hears him, but doesn’t see him. Hoseok might not even exist in this moment, he watches Seokjin’s figure disappear down the street. To Hoseok, he looks forlorn, upset but the fact that he had to leave. But inside Yoongi’s mind, he’s planning his next move, where to go forward. All of Seokjin’s stories are revolving in his head. He’s getting too soft, heart too pliant for any affection. He needs to be stronger. That beautiful man won't get to him.
“Yoongi.”
“What?”
“Are we still on for my tux fitting?”
Yoongi purses his eyebrows, noting Hoseok’s accusatorytone, “Of course we are, why are you even asking?”
Hoseok straightens in the side booth Seokjin had been sitting in, and Yoongi feels like a slight victory was made even now, having Hoseok be here instead of with Namjoon. Yoongi tries not to think about the future he’ll have when he and Hoseok will do this—have lazy, rainy days at the cafe, enjoying warm coffee and warm touches. He tries not to think of the way he’ll stare at Hoseok, how Hoseok will giggle, cover his mouth like he does when he gets caught off guard—
“...been distracted lately.” Hoseok finishes. He looks at Yoongi with concern.
Bristling, Yoongi says, “I’m not distracted. Everything’s going according to plan.”
Hoseok seems unconvinced, and it honestly hurts Yoongi’s feelings. Well, everything lately about this situation hurts his feelings, however, this here, implies something deeper. Yoongi’s heart squeezes in realization—he’s concerned about you, Yoongi, which means he could be having second thoughts. You’re succeeding.
“We’re still on for your tux fitting in,” Yoongi looks at his Rolex and calculates quickly, “in 19 minutes, now. Don’t be late.”
And with that, he leaves the cafe. What once was a calm, serene moment turned tense, and he can’t help but stomp in anger towards the tailor.
As if Seokjin, somewhere in the city, wherever he is, senses Yoongi’s tension, he knows just what to say in a text that Yoongi sees as he’s walking into the shop.
KimJin 2:12
You’re doing a good job, by the way. I should tell you that more often. We’ll figure this out. If you need me during the fitting, I’m only a call away.
You can still buy a tie for me. I like the color red. I won’t know how to tie it so that’ll be up to you :)
And just like that, Yoongi’s bad mood dissipates. Funny, how just a simple message can change his mindset.
Also how does he not know how to tie a tie? He's a businessman, for crying out loud.
The tux fitting goes well, of course. Yoongi puts in extra work with the tailor, asking necessary questions, pulling out all the stops, putting Hoseok’s doubt to rest. Although it hurts to see Hoseok in a tux, Yoongi can’t back out now.
It should be me, Yoongi thinks, watching Hoseok look elegant in the stark black fabric, it should be me, marrying you. If only you knew how I really felt.
At this rate, he may never know. This was much harder than Yoongi anticipated.
"Hey, you know what we should do after this?" Hoseok asks while the tailor extends a measuring tape down his arm, "We should go grab dinner at that greasy place down the street from here with the good soju. We haven't done that in a while."
Yoongi sighs, off guard, "You know what? That's a really good idea." He's been trying so hard to be in a constant defense most against his feelings, that he forgot that Hoseokisactually his oldest friend, and they haven't spent any quality time together, just the two of them. Between their jobs and other existing circ*mstances, the wedding included, it's been tough. And maybe after all that has happened over these past few days will do them some good, to reconnect.
They walk down the street together, after the fitting, Hoseok talking animatedly about this new companyhe's marketing with hiscompany. Yoongi always likes hearing about Hoseok's job and the crazy antics that go on there because it gives him a break from his thoughts.
"These people are complete nimrods," Hoseok explains as he chews on a piece of pork belly, well done, like he likes it, "they say they've been marketing with us for years, but our graphic designer had to get on the phone with them late last night, which they're never supposed to do, by the way."
"Right, because your boss gets mad."
"He does! So, they had to drag poor littleSonghyon out of his office, and he's already an anxious little guy, only been there five months, and he had big wobbly tears in his eyes talking to this client, who was being kind of a dick."
Yoongi takes a sip of his soju before making himself a quick wrap, concerned for this guy he doesn't even know. He knows about the hardships of difficult clients.
"So what happened afterwards?"
"Oh, he almost dropped out of our deal completely. Said we were incompetent and didn't know what we were talking about. So you know what I did?"
Yoongi gasps dramatically, like he always does to rile him up; it's a favorite game he plays, "What did you do?"
Hoseok's cheeks are flushed from the heat of the grill and the soju he had been sipping on the duration of the night. He wasn't done his firstglass. He stuck a finger in the air, "I took that phone from Songhyon and I said 'Look, sir, whatever problems you have, you bring them to me. You don't bring our designers into this. We will resolve your issues and make sure you get your money's worth'," he grabs a hefty amount of kimchi and stuffs it into his mouth, "And then,then, I reminded him 'as per your contract says'--"
"Oh, not that phrase," Yoongi laughs, "that's the most condescending statement ever, Hobi! You're never mean like that."
Throwing up his hands now, exasperated over the story and having lived it, "I couldn't help it! He was berating someone he had no business talking to! I had to go take Songhyon out to get some ice cream while he cried his lil heart out, afterwards. God I hope he doesn't quit."
"You're a good hyung."
Hoseok blushes prettilyat the compliment, he normally does, and shrugs, "I was just doing my job."
"You're good at that, too."
Usually when someonecomplimentsHoseoka lot, he does this weird face scrunch and laughs in a chirpy tone. Yoongi can't help but laugh along with him, too. He's good at lifting his spirts. For a moment he forgets about the outside world and what goes on, forgets the world that he lives in where his best friend is engaged to someone else, and just exists in right now.
"How have you been lately? What's going on?"
Pouring himself another glass, he says with pride in his chest, "I'm one of a few producers being considered to work with an up-and-coming idol group."
Hoseok covers his mouth with his hands, eyes wide, "Really? Yoongi that's amazing!"
He can't help but blush at Hoseok's excited comment. It does mean a lot, both the comment and the offer. He craves the feeling of being recognized; he wants it again, badly.
"I find out soon if they chose me or not, but, yeah. I'm excited."
"You'll get it, they're really crazy if they don't pick you, you're a genius."
Yoongi pays attention to his hands as he hides from the attention. Yeah, it would be crazy of them to pass on him, but Yoongi knows the competition is steep. He's not self employed, either, which might make it a different conversation. Though he works under someone, it still doesn't mean he can't handle it. Someday, he'll be on his own. Hopefully Hoseok will be around, maybe be his, to see it happen.
Yoongi suggests something else because he's not quite ready for this night to end, hoping to change gears and not get himself too excited, "You want to go get ice cream after this?"
"Ah," he puts both of his hands over his heart, dramatic as ever, "I thought you'd never ask."
♬
Hoseok calls Yoongi a few days later, right after he iswalking out of a meeting. Turns out he had been declined for the chance to work with the idol group, after all. He knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up too high, but this would have been a good step forward. Talking with Hoseok the other day over dinner had made it seem like he had a good chance. He felt himself growing agitated and stand-offish,and usually when he got this way, Hoseok's voice could bring him back. He had a small inkling of hope that it would this time, but at the moment, he's wasn'tso sure if that'll be the case. He knew his problems couldn't be fixed, but he did likebeing listened to.
But instead, Hoseok bowls on, “I want everyone to stay at my parents house the weekend before the wedding. Joon and I will be separate rooms, of course, because it’ll be fun that way, right? Isn’t it kind of romantic? Two people destined to be together sleeping apa—”
“Yeah yeah, I get it. Mushy sh*t. I’ll get on it.”
There’s a pause, and then a gentle, “Hyung, are you okay?”
God that tone. That tonemakes him weak. It’s been his saving grace way too many times before, and by the time he’s made it back into his studio, he’s hanging onto a small thread of sanity. He's upset. That would have been a good opportunity for him.
Yoongi sighs, “I’ll be okay. I didn’t get chosen as the producer for thatidol group that we talked about. But it’s fine, I’m sure there’ll be others. Plus it’ll give me time to better myself to make sure someonedoes pick me later on.”
“Oh, damn, I’m sorry.” Yoongi notes the true, sorrowful tone. Hoseok is always empathetic, no matter the time or place. It hurts a little more knowing that Hoseok knew about it, and had cheered him on, too.
“It’s fine, really.”
"There'll be other opportunities! You're a great producer to work with."
"Yeah. Thanks, Hobi."
“Well,” Hoseok inhales, and Yoongi knows he’s turning on his charm to help, which is what he does, “I guess a weekend away from the city will do you good then!”
Yoongi leans back in his chair, feeling the familiar mold of his chair supporting his aching lower back, “Yeah, I guess it is,” his subconscious slips as he says, “Seokjin might enjoy it too.”
The hitch in Hoseok’s voice makes Yoongi sit up. What was that?
“Ah, yeah,” Hoseok coughs, “he might. Anyway, I gotta go. Joon’s coming over with take out. Talk soon?"
"Talk soon." He confirms. Yoongi sighs, leaning back into his chair some more so he's almost parallel with his desk, closes his eyes. A weekend away at Hoseok's parents, huh? Not working, just relaxing, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend with Seokjin, his wedding date—
Wait,Seokjin. He hasn't told him about what happened the other night, nor just now.
Yoongi dials his number quickly, having it on his call list pretty frequently at this point, and can’t really contain the laughter bubbling in his chest.
Seokjin doesn’t pick up.
Yoongi’s brows pinch in confusion, wondering why now of all times he’s unavailable. Seokjin had told him he always has his phone handy. He figures he can try one more time.
When he doesn’t answer, he tries one more time. Third time's the charm right?
Yoongi clicks his tongue disapprovingly when he gets Seokjin’s voicemail for the third time. What is he so desperate for anyway? He can tell Seokjin whenever he sees him next.
...unless he never picks up and he has to go to Hoseok’s parent’s house by himself. That will surely erase any of the progress they’ve made so far. And then he really will lose Hoseok.
In a slight panic, Yoongi searches for the number for KimJin Inc. relieved to not hear a dial tone, “KimJin Escort Service, Kim Taehyung speaking, how may I help you?”
“It’s me, uh, Yoongi.” He remembers at that instance that he’s only spoken to Taehyung, at most, twice before this moment. Once, drunk, and twice, hungover. Both encounters weren’t unpleasant, but he figures Taehyung is a pleasant enough guy to recognize him.
“Ah, the golden patron,” Taehyung’s sultry voice muses, “Boss is out of the office, can I help you with something?”
Golden patron? Yoongi’s confusion deepens, “Where is he?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? He’s meeting another patron in Busan. Really lucrative stuff; he’s a professional dancer. I’ve seen his stuff around the internet—he’s really good. Moves very beautifully. His thighs are gorgeous, if you’re into that type of stuff. I am. It’s something on my list, actually. My boyfriend has gorgeous thighs too. I wonder if he would be interested in going on a date with us—”
“Taehyung.”
He sighs on the other end of the line, not perturbed in the slightest of divulging his desires, something so opposite of Yoongi it makes him curious as to what kind of person Taehyung is. His memory is fuzzy; remembering his face from his alcohol induced stupor is difficult. He remembers a lot of hair, voluminous and shiny, but other than that there isn’t much else.
“Forgive me. Sometimes I forget the lines between patron and employee, hyung tells me so. I divulge too much information. Can I help you with anything? ”
Yoongi does not know what to do with the information of Seokjin being out of town—he didn’t tell him. But...then again, who did Yoongi think he was to be told something like that? He wasn’t important. He…he’s a patron as well. Seokjin isn’t only his.
He’s not even really his.
It’s not real.
Yoongi straightens back in his seat, suddenly and viciously aware of his every surrounding, at how embarrassed he was, “Ah, well. Just. If you hear from him, tell him to call me. I guess.”
He hangs up before Taehyung responds.
Yoongi’s always been focused, and clear headed. Always. He believes in achieving goals, in success and hard work. He has dreams, sure, and hopes to achieve them someday, but he likes to work currently. He spent years dreaming about what it would be like to be with Hoseok, and where did that get him? Alone. With his best friend and the guy he’s in love with getting ready to get married to someone else in a fewdays. He can’t believe how naive he was, thinking he could work this out. Thinking he could win. Thinking he needed someone else’s help for this.
He feels so stupid. And he feels upset. This isn’t who he is. He misses Seokjin, that doesn’t seem like something too bad, right? Why is he upset that Seokjin didn't answer his phone? His excitement had turned to dust, that feeling of wanting to talk to Seokjin after a stressful day, fleeting.
Yoongi blinks. Takes a deep breath, and turns towards his computer. Hedoesn’t leave for the rest of the day.
“Yoongi? Hey, Yoongi-ssi. Seriously?”
Yoongi feels a loving touch, feels a soft hand brushing the hair from his forehead, and then those cold fingertips pressing against his eyelids. He squints his eyes shut from the touch, against whomever is pulling this nonsense in the first place.
He blinks himself awake, adjusting his eyes to the sun—the sun? f*ck—shining through the blinds, and looks up to see Suran. Because of course, she’s the only other person on the planet who knows the code to his studio.
Yoongi blinks again, “Your hair is green.”
Suran smiles, gentle, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “You like it?”
“Of course.” Suran often cycles between having her hair a light mint green or brown; depending on how she’s feeling. It hasn’t been green in a while, which means she’s getting serious about something. Yoongi wishes he knew that feeling. Maybe he should dye his hair mint and see what happens.
Ha.
Everything cracks as Yoongi sits up, his muscles ache, but it’s nothing new. Nothing about this scenario is. He’s used to it. Used to the crick in his neck, the numbness of his fingers, the stiffness of his cheek being pressed against his desk all night.
“What time is it?”
Suran, god bless her soul, hands Yoongi a tall iced Americano, the dark liquid like a siren in the sea as Yoongi takes a hefty sip, “About 5am.”
“Hmm,” he muses, “Not bad.” If anything, it’s two hours later than what he wakes up at during his usual studio sleepovers.
“Do I wanna know?”
Yoongi takes another sip before putting the cup down next to his keyboard, booting his computer back up. Squinting, he eyes the list on his desktop. Nice. 13 new songs. He produced 13 new songs, not that it matters. The last time he tried to create songs under some distress, nothing happened, but this was a better result.
“Well, for starters, I didn’t get the contract for K-Beat—”
Suran’s face turns sympathetic. Yoongi bowls forward before he can hear her apology because that’s the last thing he wants to hear, “Second, Hoseok wants us all to stay at his parents house this weekend before the wedding.”
Her gaze turns confused.
“And lastly, Seokjin might not be able to make it, which might ruin the whole plan I’ve been taking the past two weeks to do.”
Suran tilts her head, her emerald hair falling gracefully over her shoulder, blatantly glazing over all three of those facts Yoongi spent too much time thinking of, “And you made a whole mixtape in a night. Again.”
Yoongi leans back in his chair, ignoring his muscles screaming at him to stay still, “Lookslikeit.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t think I’ve asked lately.”
“I’m fine. Just a little nervous that I’m running out of time, but I’m fine.”
“Yoongi, have you ever thought that maybe...it’ll give you closure to just tell Hoseok-ssi how you feel? I think it might hurt less than having Seokjin around to stand as an ‘I don’t need you’ excuse.”
“I’ve had years to do it, Suran, why would I start now? The weekend before his wedding? I’d never forgive myself. He’d never forgive me.”
“I think he would.”
Yoongi wishes. He wishes he were strong enough for it. The fear of the looming rejection, of losing Hoseok forever, scared him more than anything he’s ever done. One way or another he will lose Hoseok, and Yoongi can’t accept that. He feels his sanity slowly slipping, suddenly realizing the timeline and how much he’s losing. And he hates losing. More than anything. He hates being wrong too, which seems to be what he’s feeling right now. He might be wrong about hiding behind Seokjin, but he can’t think about that right now.
He reaches to check his phone, sees Suran lied and that it’s actually 7am, and sees he doesn’t have any new messages. He needs to get moving if he wants to make it to Hoseok’s parent’s house before noon.
“I can come with you, if he can’t make it.” Suran offers.
Yoongi is up out of his chair, having quickly logged off of his computer, and grabbing his coffee, “No, thank you. I’ll handle this. I always do.”
He doesn’t say goodbye, which is selfish and bratty, but Suran knows. She has to know. She has to know how his heart is hurting. How confused he is.
He doesn’t pack much on his way out of his apartment—just some essentials: a couple shirts and pants, a pair of shoes, his toothbrush, his tuxedo, most importantly. He figures if he needs anything he can quickly just run into a store and buy something. He buys a ticket for the next train and finds a window seat, shutting his eyes, but doesn’t sleep. Just tries to think his headache away.
He thinks of Hoseok’s face, how it would look if he did, in fact, tell himhow he felt. Would he feel elated? Would he feel the same way? Would he feel disappointed? Enraged? Confused? Either way he’s running out of time. Maybe he’ll have some time before the wedding to get this monstrous weight on his chest, it threatens his breathing.
Thankfully the ride to Hoseok’s parents is nothing new, in fact it’s primarily relaxing. Gwangju is beautiful at this time of year; right before winter where all the trees are changing. It’s full of old architecture and broad city views—Hoseok’s parents live out a further away from the city, in a quaint, quiet home in the suburbs, the kind that any kid would love growing up.
“Yoongi-ah!” Yoongi blinks, and suddenly Hoseok’s mom is standing right in front of him, her face cheery and warm; it reminds Yoongi to call his own mom soon. Yoongi spent a lot of time here over the years. Coming here is just as special as going to his own home.
Yoongi bows politely before smiling, and hugging Hoseok’s mom close to him as she preens, “I’m so glad to see you! Ah, such a happy occasion, right? Our little Hoseokie getting married!”
Yoongi’s smile feels as plastic as he does, “Right. So happy.”
Mrs. Jung is preening, absolutely glowing, and Yoongi’s chest feels tight, knowing he’s not the one making her smile that way. Still, she prattles on, “Namjoon-ah is really handsome too, very intelligent! A perfect combination with our wild little Hoseok-ah. I bet you’re tired from the trip, come in! I have some teamade. Your boyfriend is inside as well, he’s been making wonderful conversation—”
Yoongi stops, “My what?”
Mrs. Jung turns, confused, but laughs at Yoongi’s face, “Your boyfriend? He told me you two couldn’t travel together because you were both busy, but he made it here about a half and hour ago.”
This has to be a joke. It has to be.
Yoongi walks as calmly as he can through the foyer of Hoseok’s house, and comes to a complete standstill when he sees Kim Seokjin sitting casually at the old wooden dining table—a table from his childhood; memories of late night ice cream, homework and family dinners—posture relaxed as can be, a cup of teanestled in between his hands. He looks like he owns the place, like he has control of everything in the world, and Yoongi is just dumbfounded. He ignores the way his heart skips a giddy beat, seeing him here.
“Yoongichi,” Seokjin says in a syrupy tone, a smile as bright as the sunshine outside spread easily on his face, “there you are!”
“What,” Yoongi can barely contain his confusion, before he has to remember, this is your pretend boyfriend, be cool, play the part, “what a surprise you beat me here! I was sure we’d arrive at the same time. I forgot something at home so that’s why it took me a little longer.” In reality, Yoongi is actually kind of happy that he's here, and that he beat him here. He's just shocked. A good shock.
Yoongi sees Seokjin note his expression, but says absolutely nothing, the picture of pure innocence and grace. He’s so f*cking good it makes Yoongi infuriated. It makes him want to challenge him.
“Was it me you forgot?”
Yoongi genuinely laughs,“It seems so.”
Yoongi, out of his own selfishness, rounds the table and bends down halfway to meet Seokjin there, feeling the warm touch of Seokjin’s lips on his own, and tastes the peppermint from the tea on them. To anyone else it looks like a welcome kiss, and it is.
“You two are a lovely couple. Seokjin told me all about how you two met, very romantic of you, Yoongi-ah! You’ve always been persistent.” Mrs. Jung muses.
“He sure was. He followed after me like a little baby kitten.”
Seokjin’s gaze doesn’t leave Yoongi’s in some kind of unspoken challenge— kiss me again, make it work, pretend, pretend, pretend— until Seokjin smiles, syrupy and sweet.
“When is Hoseok coming in?” Yoongi turns away from Seokjin’s face before he can do anything stupid, and diverts the attention off of him.
“He and Joon-ah won’t get in until later. But no matter. You must be exhausted, though. Let me show you to where you're staying.”
Yoongi slips out of the kitchen behind Mrs. Jung’s small frame, ambles up the stairs and past the upstairs bathroom right into—
“I’m staying in Hoseok’s old bedroom?”
Mrs. Jung opens the door in question and Yoongi’s stomach about falls out to the floor. It’s not only the same bedroom he’s seen over the years that Hoseok and him have been friends, but it’s the same bedroom he used to sleep in with Hoseok by his side in the tiny twin bed when he slept over. The universe is so f*cking hilarious.
“Hoseok is going to stay in the guest bedroom downstairs and Namjoon will stay in the guest bedroom up here; they find it fun to be separated as if they haven’t been together so long. I didn't think he'd like to be back in his old bedroom; he would be embarrassed. You don't mind, right?”
Yoongi notes a Browny Bear rolling suitcase looking at him from the end of the bed, and his eyebrows pinch together when he realizes, “Is that—”
“Ah, I’m so beat. I think I’m going to take a hot shower. Mrs. Jung, thank you so much for the tea. If you need any help for dinner tonight please don’t hesitate to ask me; I would love to help!” Seokjin waltzes in, giving Yoongi whiplash for the second time within 10 minutes.
She nods, and her smile is so precious it hurts, and she excuses herself, closing the door behind her. That was probably the quickest dismissal Yoongi had ever seen, and Mrs. Jung had no idea.
Yoongi collapses on his back on the bed, clutching his head, realizing that he’s not the only one staying in Hoseok’s old bedroom, “What the f*ck.”
“Hello to you too.”
“What the f*ck. Taehyung said you were in Busan!”
“I was,” Seokjin nods, thoughtfully, “Although he wasn’t supposed to tell you that, for confidentiality purposes, I’ll have to talk with him again.”
“How did you know to come here?”
Seokjin starts unbuttoning his shirt oh my god, Yoongi looks away, stares at the carpet on the floor and the ink splotch near his foot that one time Hoseok stepped on a pen and it bled everywhere, “Oh, I called Namjoon. He’s a lot easier to get information out of than Hoseok, at the moment. I think he's starting to like me.”
“You could have warned me, or something.”
Seokjin’s shirt falls onto the ground in a silent whuff, and Yoongi suppresses the urge to look. He hears the shower faucet turn in the bathroom, the water hitting the tile floor of the shower, and tries to grab onto his sanity, “I could have, but I wanted your shock to be genuine. You have to loosen up a little, Yoongichi.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
“Would you rather me call you Suga?”
Yoongi yells. This can’t be happening. There’s a naked man not even ten feet away from him that just called him Suga.
If he's honest with himself, which sometimes, he isn't,seeing Seokjin at that dining room table had done something to Yoongi's heart--made it soft and gooey at the sight of him, the way it's been happening these past few days. When Mrs. Jung mentioned him as 'his boyfriend', that felt nice, too. It was a good title to have. He's always liked having thattitle, to be someone's partner.
Wait.
What is that sound?
Yoongi moves on a supreme instinct that only comes with his work and relying on his good listening skills, walks into the bathroom and, without thought, shoves the shower curtain to the side.
Seokjin doesn’t flinch; in fact, he turns towards Yoongi, and Yoongi instantly remembers Seokjin is naked.
“Care to join?” Seokjin blinks. He looks sinful this way, his hair pushed back off his forehead and owlish eyes blinking at him. Yoongi can’t help but watch one water droplet roll down the side of his face and disappears down the long, elegant curve of his neck, down his chest, towards his pelvis and slim waist and holy f*ck that’s—
“I told you it was twenty four carat, didn’t I?” he retorts.
He blinks furiously, as if he didn’t just look at Seokjin’s co*ck staring him right in the face, and feels the heat of embarrassment start from the back of his neck and then climbs to his cheeks and oh god, this is where he dies. He just checked out a naked man he's fake dating. And it wasn'tbad.
He tries to save face by blurting out the only thought on his mind, “You sing?”
Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow for a second as if that wasn’t the thing he expected Yoongi asks, but blinks and is composed again, “Yeah, I sing.I have sinceI was a kid. Nothing special.”
“Nothing special? SingingCome Back Homeis nothing special? The only way I can hit a note like that is if someone twisted my balls. And maybe then I would never even hit it.”
Seokjin smiles flirtatiously, blinking his eyes, “That can be arranged. Didn’t think you’d be that kinky.”
Yoongi crosses his arms. He has known Seokjin for a little while now to know that most of the things that he says are either really sultry or a complete joke. There hasn’t been an in between.
But seriously—
“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re really good. Not many people even know that song to begin with.”
“It is a classic,” Seokjin agrees, “now if you don’t mind…”
Right. Seokjin is naked. Seokjin is in the shower.Seokjin is trying to take a shower for f*cks sake and here he is praising him on his singing ability.
He coughs, “Ah, yeah. Right. Sorry. Uh...I’ll be...out there.”
Yoongi, you’re a f*cking idiot.
It’s been a while since Yoongi has dated someone. And by a while, he means years. He’s kind of forgotten the ins and outs of it. It's sad to say that he'sstill as awkward now as he was back then when he dated an outspoken girl in college in one of his political science classes. She was wild, but melted when he kissed her.
They dated for a year before she transferred to a new school farther north, looking for another outlook in life, growing restless. Yoongi understood, and promised to keep in touch. They do text sometimes but not as often.
Hoseok had been so encouraging about the time Yoongi spent with her, too. It didn’t separate them because they did spend the same amount of time together, but Yoongi never felt guilty dating Yoora. Hard to believe that was 5 years ago. And here he was, as shy and stuttering as ever, with a guy who was so handsome he envied it.
Yoongi jumps when he feels a hand grip his chin and forces his gaze up, forced to look at Seokjin with nothing but a towel on his waist. God, he wants to kiss him again. Not because he saw his dick, because that is irrelevant, but because of how...how gorgeous he is. How charming he is. How considerate he is towards Yoongi.
“I can smell the smoke coming out of your ears from you thinking too hard. What’s got you worked up? Did Hoseok call?”
For once, hearing Hoseok’s name didn’t feel like a knife. In fact...it didn't sting at all.
Yoongi blinks, his chin still in Seokjin’s fingers, warm, “No. No, just thinking.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Nothing special,” He echoes Seokjin’s words earlier, “You can sing really well.”
Seokjin’s smile is gentle, “Thank you.”
“You know I work in the music business, right?” Yoongi suddenly realizes that yes, he didn’t get the contract with K-Beat but here’s Kim Seokjin, a powerful and confident man who has an angelic singing voice. He starts thinking about everything he could do with a voice like that, how many songs he could make, how much the media would adore Seokjin—
“Yoongi.”
“f*ck, sorry. Sorry. I just imagined signing you as an artist.”
“Ah, I’m not too sure that would be right.”
“What, you’d be too shy?” Yoongi asks, perplexed but slightly amused. He finds that a little hard to believe.
“Not shy. Just…”
For the first time since they met, Yoongi sees Seokjin as vulnerable. Yoongi glances away as Seokjin puts some clothes on, curious at his evasive answer.
“You wouldn’t even consider just recording a song with me?”
Seokjin stands with his arms crossed across the room as he leans against the dresser, “Let’s focus on one thing at a time, okay?”
Yoongi is completely confused. This is not the Seokjin he has learn to know; this Seokjin is shy and avoiding the topic, making sure Yoongi doesn’t get the answer he wants. And it’s completely out of left field, because Seokjin has been nothing but unabashedly open and confident but suddenly has changed emotions. It makes him even more charming to be this shy. Yoongi wants to know why.
“Hello! Anyone home?”
Yoongi stiffens, hearing Hoseok’s bold voice downstairs. For a few minutes he forgot the situation. The wedding. He looks over to Seokjin, who is always calm and cool, undeterred by the more work they have to do. Yoongi wants to curl against his broad chest, like a cat. He doesn't want to leave that gaze.
Seokjin pushes off the dresser and moves to leave the room but turns around to look at Yoongi, back to being elusive and sophisticated, avoiding something deeper that's going on between them, and says, “Time to go to work.”
♬
Dinner is awkward.
Thesound of scraping forks and knives fills the silence rather than pleasant conversation, and Yoongi is anxious. Normally the conversations would be lively and boisterous, the Jung family completely bold and opinionated, but for some reason, there’s nothing worthwhile. Hoseok hasn’t even glanced at Yoongi oncesince he stepped foot into the house a few hours ago, with Namjoon in tow. He took one look upstairs and saw himand Seokjin standing on the upstairs balcony overlooking the den and frowned. Yoongi took that as a good sign then, but now he’s wondering if this was a good idea, to bring Seokjin here.
No, it was a good idea.Yoongi thinks that hehad to come, but Seokjin could have made his own decisions. He’s Yoongi’s date, but still his own person.Yoongi is thankful he's here. He feels better knowing he's sitting by his side.
“So, Seokjin,” Mrs. Jung pipes up, “you told me you’re a party planner, correct?”
Seokjin smiles very politely and nods, “Yes! It’s very rewarding work, if I say so myself. Nothing makes me happier than when a client finally sees their vision come true.”
“Ever thought about wedding planning?”
“Mom,” Hoseok hisses, “we already have a wedding planner, and we have Yoongi as the best man. Stop.”
“I can’t ask our guest questions? Who said it was even for you? Dawon’s boyfriend hasn’t proposed yet but I sense it coming.”
Yoongi notices the lack of familiar feminine giggling and remembers that’s why it’s so awkward around. Dawon, Hoseok’s older sister, is usually really good at filling empty silences with lengthyconversations. Yoongi realizes he hasn’t kept tabs on her this whole process. He needs to contact her soon.
“When is noona coming in?” Yoongi asks. He hopes he isn’t rude by interrupting Seokjin and Mrs. Jung’s conversation.
“She’ll be cutting it close, but she’s arriving the morning of the wedding. She has to make sure her business can be closed for a fewdays before she can travel.”
“What is her business?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. Yoongi realizes he did a sh*tty job of giving background information on the rest of Hoseok’s family. Hoseok notices too.
“Did Yoongi not tell you anything about my family?” Hoseok sneers, “You’ve been dating for so long, but it seems you’re a little ignorant.”
Mrs. Jung hisses at him, “Hoseok-ah, that’s not nice.”
Yoongi wonders if this hostility Hoseok has towards Seokjin is jealousy, and has a small epiphany, realizing his plan might actually be working. Him being jealous over Seokjin might mean that he realizes Yoongi is the one for him and not Namjoon, and that there’s two days for him to make a move.
Yoongi slips a hand on Seokjin’s thigh under the table, a silent signof support, and Seokjin doesn’t flinch at the touch. Instead, Seokjinslips his own hand on top, warm and gentle. Yoongi meant it as an apology, but he can sense that no matter what gets thrown at Seokjin, he can handle it with strengthand a gracious attitude. He’s not easily shaken. He likes knowing he can support Seokjin as much as Seokjin supports him. He's really comfortable around him.
“Yoongi and I have been focusing on each other, as couples do when they first start dating. Much about you has been said, but not in depth about your family,” he explains, glancing at Yoongi and showing him a sympathetic and kind smile, “Plus, I can’t get enough of him as it is; I want to know everything about him, first.”
The funny thing is, Yoongi wants to tell him everything. Even if what he said isn’t particularly true, and that Seokjin knows a lot more about Hoseok than he does about Yoongi, it’s still refreshing to know that Seokjin will defend him, a mere stranger, for the sake of this ruse. Yoongi wants to sit for hours and just talk with Seokjin. About everything, and nothing in particular. Wants to feel his eyes on him when he speaks, wants to watch his lips and think about kissing him whenever he wants.
Yoongi boldly leans over and presses his lipsto Seokjin’s cheek, a silent thank you, not at all perturbed or scared of the action. He’s thanking Seokjin in the only way he can think of, physically, without giving anything away.
“But to answer your question,” Yoongi can see the tips of Seokjin’s ears turning red and finds it absolutely adorable, “No, I haven’t thought about wedding planning. It could be fun, though.”
“He’s really good,” Yoongi pipes in, “the party that we met at was beautiful, even though I couldn’t pay any attention to my surroundings, just hyung.”
Yoongi realizes that by Seokjin’s ears turning an even deeper shade of red, and his smile so bright his eyes crinkle, that he hasn’t called Seokjin hyung once since they started this. And judging by how well he likes it, Yoongi remembers that for later. He's cute.
Dinner is a little better after that, despite Hoseok simmering in his corner of the table. Namjoon tells stories he’s encountered at work, everyone listens, except Yoongi finds himself lost staring at Seokjin’s profile as he listens. Any guy, hell, anyone would be blind to see how beautiful he is. Yoongi isn’t blind either.
He makes another bold choice, flippinghis hand over on Seokjin’s thigh so that Seokjin’s fingers fall, very easily, into the slots of Yoongi’s. And Yoongi sighs.
That feels nice.
It’s not a particularly big secret that Yoongi likes holding hands—he always has. It’s long unspoken connection he’s had for quite some time. Nothing melts him quicker than feeling his fingers being held so dearly by a partner. And he’s found, at this moment, that Seokjin has really, really nice hands. His fingers fit really well within his own. Seokjin squeezes his hand once, Yoongi squeezes back twice, Seokjin squeezes back three times, and Yoongi is smiling like a mad man. His cheeks start to hurt within a minute, and he's not sure if how he can last the rest of the dinner this way.
Afterwards, once all the dishes are cleaned, they all go their separate ways to retire, and Yoongi is reminded in, quite possibly the worst way, that he’s sharing a bed with his fake boyfriend.
“This sucks.” Yoongi laments, trying not to whine. Out of everything he could have imagined for this weekend, or for these past two weeks in general, he didn’t think it would be this. It honestly never crossed his mind that he’d be sharing a room; sharing Hoseok's room.
“Oh come on, it’s only for a couple of nights. You can’t stand to sleep with me for that long?”
Yoongi folds his arms and pouts, “You know that’s now what I meant.” He's actually curious as to how this is going to work out.
Seokjin looks at the bed. To him, it’s probably just another bed, on another job to be someone’s fake lover. To Yoongi, it’s the place where he went every summer since he was a kid, where he slept side by side with Hoseok after a long day playing outside in the heat. To Yoongi, it’s a place where he could come back and feel his childhood. To Yoongi, it’s a place where he felt safe. And now instead of being here with the one he’s in love with, he’s here with...someone...not fully a stranger, anymore.
“Wanna talk about it?” Seokjin offers, clearly sensing Yoongi’s discomfort.
He’s not sure if he can talk about it, about anything that he thinks about, because he thinks so much. What could he talk about already that hasn’t been said already?
Yoongi climbs into bed and ignores the question, pressing his back against the cold wall and tries to take up as little space as he can. Seokjin follows suit, his back turned to Yoongi. He appreciates that politeness, but at this moment, feeling vulnerable, he doesn’t quite feel the need to be so standoffish when Seokjin has been nothing but the perfect gentleman and perfect company. He kind of wants to be held, despite his cold shoulder.
Yoongi sighs into the darkness, and reaches out to touch Seokjin’s shoulder, feeling the broadness under his fingertips, “You don’t have to do that.”
Seokjin gently rolls over, eyes bright despite the dimness of the room, “Do what?”
“Be...so rigid and polite. I trust you.”
Yoongi tucks an arm underneath his head and one between his legs, curling into himself like he normally does. He notices Seokjin doing the same, and here in this dark light, there’s no pretending. Seokjin isn’t a businessman pretending to be Yoongi’s lover. He’s just...Seokjin. Yoongi’s built up this persona of him when all along he’s only been a man, first and foremost. Yoongi feels ridiculous having painted him a saint when he was so similar to him—quiet but observant, he makes stupid jokes and feeds off laughter, holds himself with respect and makes people feel at ease. He's grown quite comfortable having him around.
Seokjin makes a small movement, and suddenly his knee is pressing against Yoongi’s, then his shin, and eventually their legs intertwine. Yoongi can hear his heartbeat in his temples. He shouldn’t be nervous. But this feels like a lot.
“I’m sorry Hoseok was so hostile towards you at dinner tonight.” Yoongi whispers. There’s something about nighttime that makes Yoongi feel braver, even though he feels vulnerable at the same time. Being here feels as intimate as if he were back in his own home.
Sighing, Seokjin nuzzles further onto his pillow, “It’s alright. He’s protecting you. He sees me as a stranger, which, I am, but he doesn’t know that. He watches you more often than you know.”
Something giddy and light squeezes Yoongi’s heart, feeling childish: He watches me? Does he feel the same? This is working?
But at the same time he thinks,Does Seokjin watch me? Does he feel the same? Does he feelwhat's happening?
“I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow night.”
“How come? It’s a bachelor party right? He’ll be away from Namjoon and with you all night, I consider that a win, no?”
Huh…
“I didn’t think of it that way,” he murmurs, “I just thought he would be talking about Namjoon the whole time.”
“Possibly, but that doesn’t mean you can fix that.”
“You seem more on board with this mission.”
“What did I say about calling it a mission?” Seokjin clicks his tongue playfully, “And no, I’m only doing my part as a diversion. You remember my rules. I know you don’t forget important details, which is admirable.”
Yoongi’s glad the darkness can hide the blush tinting his cheeks.
“Get some sleep,” Seokjin continues, “Tomorrow is gonna be a long day.”
“Yeah.” Yoongi agrees. His eyes drift closed as sleep beckons him. Hefeels a warmth spread over his hand in front of him, and he smiles.That feels nice, alright.
♬
“To Hoseok-ah!”
“To Hoseok-ah!”
Yoongi cheers weakly, downing the shot regardless. He can’t remember what number it is, only that his face is going numb, and he kind of likes it.
They’ve been at this sh*tty bar for hours. Yoongi had been dreading it all day, realizing that for the first time in a while it will just be him and Hoseok again, since their night out for dinner last week. The plan was for Yoongi, the best man, to round up the rest of Hoseok’s groomsmen for a night out. Seokjin would take Namjoon’s side of groomsmen out as well, but the two were never to intermingle. Yoongi tries to remember Seokjin’s vote of confidence earlier in the week.
“Come on, you’ll be fine. You deserve a night out from working too hard.” Seokjin moves elegantly across the room in his clean suit. Yoongi almost salivates at the sight, having only seen it once at dinner a few weeks back. He remembers how good he looked that night.
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a horrible night.”
“Oh, stop being so doom and gloom! Have confidence! You could switch places with me.”
Yoongi waved his hands, “ f*ck no! That’s ridiculous.”
Seokjin slips the red tie Yoongi did in fact buy him the other day at the tailor over his neck, and smiles, “See? You’re still in this. Now come tie this tie.”
Yoongi feels a hand clap his shoulder, and doesn’t have to look far to know it’s Hoseok that saddles up beside him, as attuned to him as a musician is to his instrument of choice. Hoseok is beautiful in the low light of the bar, hair as red as a cherry and eyes glazed, smiling fully.
Yoongi’s always loved his smile. It’s unique, one he has never seen on anyone else. He’s told him thousands of times before, his smile resembles a heart, and Hoseok always laughs him off, saying he’s ridiculous. You know who else's smile is unique? Seokjin's. It holds a lot of light and sunshine. Yoongi feels like he could talk about Seokjin for hours.
Yoongi feels the vodka burning his throat, but feels something else making its way up, unstoppable. He’s gonna tell him. He’s gonna tell him right now and blame it on the alcohol, “Hoseok—”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” He interrupts.
Yoongi freezes in his seat. Oh god. Is this it?
“Do,” Yoongi clears his throat and tries again, careful not to show his anticipation, “do what?”
Hoseok laments dramatically, leaning on the counter, and Yoongi feels his heart swelling, and chanting: I did it. I did it. I did it, just in time.
“I don’t think I can ma—”
He hiccups. Yoongi might die.
“Make myself take anymore shots.”
And just like that, after countless days of work—
After years of pining—
Yoongi lost.
There’s no more work to be done, nothing else to do. He lost. God, he really thought he had it. He thought he had the right idea, thought he had the means to make Hoseok see what was in front of him all this time. That his twenty six years of life spent growing up with him, supporting him, holding him and falling for him meant something. But it meant nothing.
There’s two shot glasses in front of Yoongi, one for him and one for Hoseok, and because of his smart-ass self and sudden self destructive attitude, he takes both of them and downs them in quick succession, loving the way the flames lick throat in comfort. There’s no coming back from this.
God, he needs more: more time, more vodka, more Seokjin.
Wait, does that mean Seokjin has to leave? Since he failed?
Suddenly, he's very scared. He's scared of having Seokjin leave him, having to be alone again. He can handle a lot of things, but there's something happening that Yoongi doesn't want to let go of. He doesn't want Seokjin to leave him.
“f*ck,” Yoongi says out loud. He can’t think of anything to say to Seokjin now, can’t think of what the next move is after they’ve carefully made thisplan. There wasn’t a plan in which they would lose, and that’s Yoongi’s fault because of his stubbornness.
“What is it?” Hoseok rubs his back soothingly, thinking something is wrong—well something is wrong; Yoongi’s heart is breaking.
“Nothing ah...I think I drank too much. I’m gonna head home. Well not to my home. To yours. You get it. I’ll see you later. Drink water.” Yoongi stumbles off the barstool and struggles to walk a straight line out of the door.
Hoseok doesn’t go after him, which hurts the most. But it’s fine. Whatever. Let him have fun at his bachelor party, without him.
Yoongi can’t quite feel his fingers as he dials a number all too familiar now on his phone, a number he calls more than he should, but doesn’t care. He puts it to his ear, swaying.
“Hey,” Seokjin replies cooly on the fourth ring, and Yoongi is stupidly happy to hear his voice, for some reason, despite the sh*tty situation, “how’s everything?”
“I lost.”
“What was that? You’re lost?”
“No, I lost. It’s over. Done. He doesn’t want me.”
Seokjin is quiet for a second, then, “You told him?”
“No, I didn’t tell him,” Yoongi sighs with frustration, “I thought he was about to tell me he couldn’t marry Namjoon, he got really stupid serious like he never does and then just said he couldn’t drink anymore. Anyway, long story short, I’m walking home. Or back to the house. f*cking whatever. I’m done. This is so stupid, Seokjin.”
“Let me pick you up.”
“No,” he says stubbornly, but then sways a little too far left and grumbles as he almost runs into a brick wall, “fine. Only because I can’t see where the f*ck I’m going. And the ground is a roller coaster. Lots of spinning.”
Seokjin was there in the blink of an eye. Or not really, he probably took a half hour or something. Yoongi’s sense of time is dwindling.
“Where’s Namjoon?” Yoongi asks when he notes the car is empty save just Seokjin in the driver seat. Man, he looks good driving. He looks good period. Yoongi likes seeing him driving. Likes a lot about him.
“I left him with the rest of his groomsmen. Don’t worry about it. Get in.”
They drive in silence, mostly. Yoongi can’t stop listening to the radio, grimacing at all the sappy, stupid love songs, crooning about passion and affection. Romance is dead. Yoongi’s never gonna love again.
He isn’t sure how he gets back to the house, can’t really remember the walk inside. But when he sits down on the bed, Hoseok’s bed, everything is blurryand about to spin a complete circle. Yoongi blinks, trying to steady his gaze. Find a horizon. Find...find Seokjin.
“Hey,” Yoongi says out loud.
Seokjin’s wingtip shoes click against the floor. Yoongi can blurrily see him; he’s wearing all black. Yoongi likes that color.
“What is it? Do you need water?” Seokjin asks.
Yoongi stands up back from the bed, trying to gain his footing as best as he can as he walks towards Seokjin. And Seokjin reaches out for him and holds him, without even asking. Hedoes the only thing that his brain can think of, the only thing he’s thought of for since they got back, to show how thankful he is that Seokjin came to get him.
He stretches on the tips of his toes and presses his lips against Seokjin with all the enthusiasm his languid body can handle. The surprised noise that comes from Seokjin makes Yoongi smile just a bit, feeling victorious, but soon he's being pushed back as if it never happened.
"What...?" Yoongi is confused.
Seokjin looks just as confused. Concerned, really.
Yoongi pushes forward again. Seokjin holds his shoulders still.
"Yoongi," he warns.
"Can't you just kiss me?"
Seokjin sighs. The air is tense, but Yoongi doesn't sense it, "Remember what we agreed to back then? When we first started this?"
"Not really. I can't think of much." Yoongi replies simply.
"We can't make one-sided decisions under the influence. I can't do this with you, not like this."
"You don't want me?" Had he been wrong? Had he been mislead?
"It's not that," Seokjin answers carefully, and then aborts his thought altogether, pushing Yoongi’s shoulders back towards the bed, "Come on, we'll talk about it tomorrow. You need to go to sleep."
And that was that.
♬
Yoongi hazily dreams of walking down the aisle, Seokjin smiling at him at the end of it.
♬
Nine times out of ten, Yoongi regrets going out. The other one time is when he’s conscious enough of what’s happening, which, naturally, is better than feeling like he’s about to die in this bed. No amount of deep breathing can keep keep his mind off the pain. Tipsy, not black out.
He slowly blinks his eyes open, hissing at the bright morning light and the way it mocks him by shining right in his face. He slowly rolls onto his back, assessing, wincing when his muscles scream at him. Everything about him is in pain, and it hurts.
Throwing out an arm out, he meets an empty side bed. Huh.
Yoongi frowns when he notices a note nestled halfway underneath the pillow, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His heart starts to pick up speed when he finally unfolds it, seeing a piece of paper, and what looks like a check. Oh no. No.
Yoongi,
I am by no means a weak man, I have surely had my fair share of challenges in my lifetime. But last night, unfortunately, had struck something deep inside that I do not wish to revisit. Rest assured that you did nothing wrong. You must know I would never take advantage of you. Believe me, I wanted to kiss you, too.
I have been hiding something inside myself for the past two weeks that I dared not to investigate, but it seems I have developed feelings for you. Unfortunately this goes against myself as a company. I have misplaced my dignity as a businessman and must therefore cancel the rest of our agreement. Attached you will find a check, a refund of what you paid prior.
I wish you a prosperous life, Yoongi.
- Seokjin
Yoongi’s heart skips an actual beat, that thing in the hollow of his chest.
I have developed feelings for you, I have developed feelings for you, I have developed feelings for you…
He gets up as fast as his aching body will allow him, feeling his throat burn as he meets face to face with the toilet, again. Panting, he tries to gain his footing, runs the faucet and splashes the cold water on his face. This is no time for obstacles, stupid, pathetic body, he thinks, Seokjin’s gone.You have to get him back.
When he glances up into the mirror, he looks at himself under no disguise, at his disheveled hair and dark under eyes. He really is pathetic, in more ways than one. This time, he feels tears prickling behind his eyes, again, as last night comes back against him, full force.
Yoongi kissed Seokjin, disregarding the rule they both set up in the beginning of their agreement. It wasn’t more than that, but it felt so loaded, with them skirting around their feelings this last week. Yoongi had noticed it too, surely Seokjin had, too. In the end, Seokjin was protecting Yoongi from himself.
“Holy f*ck,” Yoongi hisses. He’s an absolute idiot, in every way. He not only ruined an arrangement he made in the first place, but he ended up disregarding Seokjin entirely last night, his gentle grace and caring attitude to Yoongi. Seokjin wasn’t worth the money—he was worth his beauty, his charm, his kindness, his attentiveness and ability to change into the person Yoongi needed. And Yoongi wasn’t blind to any of it, how could he be? All those times Seokjin was around him, asking for things he needed and taking care of him, they meant something different now.
He actually started to mean every touch, smile, kiss. He meant everything.
Yoongi grips the porcelain sink counter and takes a deep breath. He feels so worn down, no energy left, but despite everything, he wants Seokjin. He needs Seokjin. This isn’t how things should have ended. Granted, it should have ended differently.
He takes another deep breath, and finally lets Hoseok go from his mind. He isn’t his to want anymore, and won’t be. That’s what he needed to tell himself from the start. He wishes he realized it earlier. It would have done less damage to his heart that’s rampaging inside of him.
He’s an idiot.
“You’re an idiot,” he tells his reflection, his cheekbones regaining color, after some humility, “you’re an idiot who should have let Hoseok go from the start. Now you went and hurt the best thing that happened to you, and you’re an idiot.”
He knows he's being harsh on himself, but he's always his biggest critic. He has to be harsh in order to fix things, or they'll sit and fester. Yoongi packs up only he needs, knowing he’ll be back. He takes a shower, gritting his teeth at the ice cold water, dresses quickly, and heads downstairs.
“Whoa, whoa, where’s the fire?” Hoseok asks. Of course, Hoseok would be awake at this time, and acting as if nothing had happened last night. He can never be kept down for long.Yoongi knows nothing less.
“Seokjin’s gone.”
“What?” Namjoon pokes his head out of the kitchen now, and for once Yoongi doesn’t sneer in his direction. His eyes are finally opened to see the bigger picture, the picture with Seokjin by his side, and he only wants Hoseok to be happy.
“What did you do?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi tightens his jaw.
“Too much,” Yoongi answers honestly, and takes a deep breath, “but when I come back, I’m telling you everything.”
The look on Hoseok’s face is confusion, but Yoongi knows it’ll change when he gets back, with Seokjin in tow. He owes himself that much.
Yoongi takes one of the cars out front, too impatient and antsy to take the train back. Plus, he needed to be in control of his speed, or else he’d be more anxious, more than he already is.
Where could he have gone? Seokjin was elusive, but Yoongi had learned a lot about him over the course of these two weeks. How he makes a lot of stupid, but endearing jokes. The way his eyes crinkle and he claps when he laughs hysterically. The beautiful color of his eyes when they look at him, like he’s the most precious thing. The way he always was there for Yoongi, ready to catch him if he fell.
He really was an idiot. He knows that he and Seokjin had set up this arrangement purely for Yoongi’s selfishness, to think that he could stop something like Hoseok’s engagement. Yoongi knew he would never stop loving Hoseok, but he had, through a bad trial and error, that he was too focused on getting rid of Namjoon that he hadn’t seen the common denominator in this—for Hoseok to be happy.
Would Yoongi make Hoseok happy? Truly? He never thought about it. Maybe Yoongi had been so wrapped up in thinking Hoseok was a prize to be won, which was ridiculous and selfish, that he felt that he had to be with him or else his life couldn’t go on. His judgement was so clouded that he barely saw anything else in front of him, thinking that once Hoseok got married, he’d be lost, forever.
But that wasn’t the case, not at all. They’d still be best friends, but he’d be JungHoseok. He’d still be the same rambunctious, loud, and sweet Hoseok; he’d still be his best friend. Yoongi got too far into his head, and this was the result. He realized Seokjin was more than just a fake boyfriend, and, scariest of all, he wanted him to be his real boyfriend.
Yoongi wonders what would happen with his company after this—oh sh*t, his company. That’s it.
Yoongi grabs his phone, and as quickly as he can, scrolls through his contacts until he hits KimJin Inc., pressing the phone to his ear as he quickly changes lanes.
“KimJin Escort Service, Kim Taehyung speaking, how may I help you?”
“I’m starting to think you don’t have caller ID, or you’re being too polite.”
“I’m being the perfect representative, excuse you. What can I do for you this time?”
“Where is Seokjin going?”
Taehyung is silent for a few seconds, probably surprised, which means Yoongi’s hunch is somewhat correct, “He’s...not with you?”
“No, he isn’t,” Yoongi speeds up to get around a slow moving car, “Long story short is I f*cked up, and short story is I need to find him.”
“I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you anymore, unfortunately. Hyung talked to me about giving out private information.”
“Taehyung, seriously, if you can talk about your boyfriends, you can tell me where he's going.”
“We all just became a coupleyesterday, thank you for asking. I get a lot of attention. Also, isn’t your best friend getting married today?”
“No, tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter.”
“Changed your mind?”
Yoongi sighs, “Didn’t change my mind, just...found something else.”
“Be still my beating heart,” croons Taehyung, “you love him.”
“I wouldn’t go that far—”
Taehyung’s voice gets kind of deadly serious, “Don’t play this naïvedeflect game anymore, okay? Tell the truth.”
Yoongi knows the truth, and it scares him, but what scares you most has to be the most beneficial things for you, right?
“I...am in love with him, yes. A little. Or a lot, I’m not sure.” Saying it out loud makes Yoongi’s heart swell with something he really likes. The truth feels good.
“You’re so juvenile,” Yoongi hears Taehyung click on the keyboard, “no one ever died from admitting true feelings.”
“I’m sure somebody did, once before.”
“If you keep being a smartass, I’m not going to tell you where he is.”
Yoongi stays silent. The fear of losing Seokjin creeps up into his throat, but he swallows it down.
Taehyung taps on his keyboard for a while; it feels like forever until he says, “Oh.”
“What?” Yoongi’s heart drops, thinking that he’s lost and that Taehyung doesn’t know. It’s somewhere unreachable, somewhere he can’t go to Seokjin, somewhere that he’ll lose him forever.
He hums, “This is a pretty big client, frequent too. Pays up to 12 million won a week for hyung’s services. I didn’t know he was still in our database—”
“Taehyung,” Yoongi is desperate now, voice loud, "tell me."
“Sorry, sorry. Singapore. His flight leaves in like an hour or so.”
Singapore, Yoongi thinks, panic sinking into his skin, he’s never going to come back.
But he has to. I need him.
♬
Yoongi’s never really been a fan of airports. There’s so much chaos that goes on, so much chatter and complications and noise. Normally when he flies he has to have his headphones to bring him some peace of mind, but now, every noise is hitting him at once. It’s so hard to focus.
He goes through security, which feels weird because he’s not actually going anywhere so all he has to unload is his phone, wallet, and car keys. He gets a weird look from the security guard, but moves on before he can feel anxiousabout it.
He walks down the familiar terminal, checking all the gates, reading the departure screen, feeling completely overwhelmed. He checks his phone, seeing he’s almost out of time. It can’t end this way, it really can’t.
The moment he spots Seokjin, at Gate 34, it’s like his body is doused in cold water, his heart beating in a strong rhythm of you found him, you found him.
He’s still seated while the rest of the passengers line up with their boarding passes. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate a second longer.
“It seems you’re already disobeying orders, darling,” Yoongi parrots the first words he ever heard Seokjin speak. Seokjin jumps, fists curled as if his fight mode was activated more than his flight mode. He looks completely different from when they first met, though. He’s wearing the palest pink sweater that’s way too large for his body, and Yoongi finds it completely endearing.
“Yoongi?” he asks, blinking, “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? This is my dramatic scene in those movies where I run through the airport to find you. And look,” Yoongi takes a seat right next to Seokjin, huffing triumphantly, “I found you.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Seokjin grumbles. Yoongi sees him trying to fight a smile.
It’s quiet for a second, and Yoongi hears the announcement overhead, “Final boarding call for flight 385 to Singapore, boarding now, group C isboarding now.”
Yoongi notices that Seokjin is the only one sitting down, the rest of the gate boarding, or lining up to be boarded. This has to mean something, surely. His passport sits alone, on his knee.
“You’re not going.” Yoongi comments, carefully.
Seokjin looks down at his hands. He’s wringing them.
“I...I’m not sure what to do, honestly.”
“Come back with me.”
“Yoongi—”
“No, I’m serious,” Yoongi turns in the plastic seat so he’s facing Seokjin, “I messed up last night, I know I did. We both know there’s something between us but we both were too afraid to talk about it.”
Seokjin looks so worn down, so exhausted, and Yoongi can’t help but feel so guilty about it. This is his fault.
“It took me a little longer than it should to realize this, but it seems I’m a little in love with you.” Yoongi says lowly. He only wants Seokjin to hear this.
Seokjin exhales. His shoulders deflate. He’s beautiful.
“I’m a little in love with you, too,” he admits, finally looking Yoongi in the eye, “I didn’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave. I...I don’t know. Where do we go from here?”
Yoongi doesn’t really know. For someone who likes to knowso much, this time he doesn’t seem to care about what the right answer is, as long as he has Seokjin by his side. He can conquer anything.
“I’m going to have to close my business,” he continues softly, “I can’t keep it if we’re together, exclusively.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” Yoongi retorts.
“I know but...I can’t do that and be with you, it wouldn’t sit right with me.”
Yoongi does what he wanted to do since the moment he saw Seokjin sitting in the airport. He touches the side of Seokjin’s face so he can look at him properly, and so Yoongi can drown in those beautiful eyes, “We can figure it out later. Do youwant to be with me?”
Seokjin nods, “Without question.”
“I want to be with you, too. For real. No more pretending.”
“No more pretending.”
There’s so much power in that statement, and they both know it. What once was something arranged between them became real. Now they don’t have to pretend, or put on a face for anyone. Yoongi doesn’t feel the anxious buzz in his skull that reminds him of what he was about to lose.
The feeling of Seokjin’s hand inside his own feels like coming home, like a deep breath he had been holding in, like cresting a wave onthe ocean.
Seokjin smiles beautifully that it takes Yoongi's breath away, but calms him, and says, “Let’s go to a wedding, shall we?”
♬
“How did you know I was at the airport, anyway?”
Yoongi stares ahead but tries his best to hide the smile on his face as he says, “I have my ways.”
“It was Taehyung, wasn’t it? That kid is such a loud mouth.”
“Give him some credit,” Yoongi says in defense, “you would have been halfway to Singapore had he not told me.”
Seokjin slides his hand onto Yoongi’s thigh in response.
♬
So Yoongi tells him. Tells Hoseok all the words he’s kept bottled inside for the past few years. Watches his face turn from shock, to appreciation, to acceptance. And Yoongi trips over his words a few times, but Seokjin is right there, as comforting as ever. He wouldn't be able to do it without him, any of it.
“So,” Yoongi says; he’s blushing from the tips of his ears to his nose, his face burning, “too overwhelmed with feelings I...I—” It feels so stupid to say out loud.
“Yoongi hired me,” Seokjin says in his stead. He tightens his hand on Yoongi’s thigh, and Yoongi hopes he can’t feel him slightly quivering, “I own a professional escort service.He wanted to use me to make you jealous.”
Hoseok’s face, that’s usually full of disdain when Seokjin speaks, is a whole new expression that Yoongi can’t even comprehend, “So he hired you to break us up?”
Seokjin shakes his head. He’s really good at diffusing a situation, Yoongi has noticed. He can’t even look Hoseok in the eye. His voice was sharp.
“No, I made absolutely sure of it. I would have declined if that were his plan.”
“I actually understand hyung’s motive,” Namjoon, of all people, speaks up, “He was a man in love and saw me as a threat. He’s been your best friend and hyung your whole life, Hobi, so it’s only natural that he wanted to protect you.”
“He tried to break us up!” Hoseok yelps.
Namjoon sighs and gathers Hoseok’s hands into his own, “Did you not hear what both of them said? They were trying to get you to see Yoongi’s true feelings. That’s it. We’re still together. Besides,” Namjoon’s gaze slides over to where Yoongi is now holding fiercely to Seokjin’s hand, “it seems Yoongi’s attention lies elsewhere.”
Yoongi blushes some more.
Hoseok sighs. It feels like it’s been ages before he says anything, but he looks over, “I appreciate you telling me, Yoongi. I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, and I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me, either. There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you, or nothing that could break up our friendship. Our mothers would probably spank us, like they used to. And it's safe to say that you’ve always lead with your heart, not your head.”
Yoongi finally looks up at Hoseok, at his best friend and confidant for the past two decades, and smiles. He believes him. He feels a sense of closure coming from Hoseok that he hasn’t in the past two weeks.
“You’ll always be my best friend, okay?”
“Okay.”
The air around them settles into a quiet calm. The anxious buzzing in Yoongi’s skull is gone, and there’s nothing but the four of them. There’s nothing but Seokjin, next to him, staring at him with confident and a cool composure.
“I’m also sorry for being so hostile towards you, Seokjin-hyung. I’m very protective of Yoongi-hyung as well.”
Nodding, Seokjin smiles, “You two love each other a lot. You’d fight to the death for each other, that’s plain to see.” Namjoon nods in agreement. It honestly makes Yoongi regretful that he painted Namjoon to be such a bad guy. But such is blind love. He’ll have to apologize again once the whole thing is over.
Namjoon stands, dusting off the imaginary dust off his jeans, and sighs, “That felt good to clear the air. Anyone want some coffee?”
“It’s like 8 o’clock, Joonie,” Hoseok argues.
“I’ll sleep just fine,” Namjoon smiles brightly. He smiles courageously, “Because I’m getting married tomorrow. Nothing can be better.”
They eventually all make theirway upstairs. It’s been such a long day; Yoongi feels it in his bones. He feels grateful that Seokjin is by his side, too, and that he succeeded in finding him before it was too late.
They get ready for bed in a comfortable silence, and slip underneath the covers of the bed. Despite it still being Hoseok’s bed, it’s still better now that Seokjin is here, and Yoongi isn’t completely wasted and sad.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Yoongi whispers. This feels so reminiscent of their first night here, after tensions were high and a knife could slice it like butter.
“I’m glad I’m here too.” answers Seokjin, sliding his hand across Yoongi’s forearm to find his hand in between them. He intertwines their fingers together, and Yoongi sighs dreamily.
A sudden, boisterous laugh comes from the wall Yoongi’s back is facing. Yoongi knows it’s Hoseok in the guest bedroom.
“Glad they’re sticking to the ‘don’t see the groom before the wedding’ deal.”
“Hoseok was never going to stick to it, he’s crazy.”
“Aren’t we all?” Seokjin squeezes Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi squeezes back.
Another peel of laughter turns into a high pitch moan, and Yoongi doesn’t evenflinch. He just stares right at Seokjin, who is tryingnot to laugh. The moaning gets more frequent, and turns into soft whining, and Yoongi doesn’t have to think very hard whena low, rhythmic thumping starts, the bed frame in the room next door knocking against the wall.
“Do you want to go sneak into the other—”
“God, yes.”
They fly, a flurry of pajamas and giggles, down the stairs and into the vacant guest bedroom, pristine as if untouched. They really didn’t follow the rule at all, Yoongi muses. Typical.
Seokjin slips into the room and shuts the door. They both put their backs towards the door, panting, and Yoongi can’t help but start laughing hysterically. Chuckling breathily, his shoulders shake at the absurdity of the situation, giddy with excitement and the thrill of this moment. Yoongi lays his head back against the door and rolls it to the right, looking at Seokjin who’s doing the exact same thing.
“What?” Yoongi asks, chest heaving.
Seokjin pushes off the door and turns about face, caging Yoongi in. And Yoongi becomes breathless, all over again, in more ways than one. Yoongi looks him in the eye and dares not to look away. He’s breathtaking.
“I’m gonna kiss you, now.” Seokjin murmurs into the quiet space.
“Okay,” Yoongi whispers.
Seokjin kisses him as if he’s curious, kissing him for the first time, not for pretend. His lips play against Yoongi’s, tongue curling into his mouth with fluid expertise. Yoongi swears he’s running out of oxygen, swears he would die happy in this spot, but all that comes from his throat is a quiet whine. Encouraged, Seokjin presses a little harder into the kiss, answering Yoongi’s exhale with a moan of his own.
Yoongi reaches out to grip onto Seokjin’s forearms, trying to stabilize his balance. This time, kissing Seokjin is free of any hindrance. Yoongi regrets being drunk the first time he tried to do this, and feels kind of stupid for even trying in the first place.
Seokjin backs away, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yoongi’s lip, then across his jaw, whispering so softly Yoongi can feelthe words hit his skin,“Can I touch you?”
“Yes, p-please,” he stutters, Yoongi feels the fire starting in his toes. Seokjin kisses the skin behind Yoongi’s ear, and he gasps.
Yoongi feels fingertips caress the skin of his hips, slip underneath his silk t-shirt, and he shivers, not from the cold, but from the anticipation. The build up is slowly unraveling him.Seokjin’s hands grip Yoongi’s hips like they were meant to be there all along. For all Yoongi knows, they should be.
“Please,” Yoongi whispers, feverishly pressing closer to Seokjin’s warm body, “More.”
Seokjin slots a leg in between Yoongi’s and presses against him, and Yoongi arches into that touch as if he’s been branded. He can’t help the hiss that presses against his teeth, the friction relieving some of the pressure of how turned on he is. Yoongi rolls his hips, seeking more.
“A little restless, no?” Seokjin muses, “You’re practically humping me.”
“Can’t help it,” Yoongi grumbles. He reaches for the buttons on Seokjin’s shirt and starts undoing them, “I want you.”
“Mmm,” Seokjin hums, “My schedule is pretty booked, but I think I can pencil you in.”
Yoongi leans his head back and cackles loudly, remembering those were some of the first few words Seokjin had ever spoken to him. Even now, it's still a funny joke. Yoongi’s heart is hammering in his chest, and he’s so turned on, but he’s so ridiculously happy.
“Shh!” Seokjin giggles too, putting a hand over Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi laughs harder. Seokjin starts laughing because of it, and soon they’re both giggling messes. But it’s okay. It’s all okay. Nothing feels better than this, here.
Seokjin slides his hand off of Yoongi’s mouth, and it travels down his neck, across the red marks blooming on his skin, down his clavicle, to the top button on his shirt. It pops open, and Seokjin looks into Yoongi’s fiery eyes.
"This okay?"
Yoongi nods, careful and meticulous in his movements, like a feline, “Keep going.”
Another button comes undone, and another, until the silk shirt is hanging off his shoulder, the apex of where his shoulder meets his neck exposed to the cool air. Seokjin presses a kiss on the mole right above Yoongi’s collarbone. Yoongi sighs.
The air is still as they undress each other, kissing new exposed pieces of skin. Yoongi appreciates the broadness of Seokjin’s shoulders, especially in the way the moonlight dances across them when he moves. He wishes he could take a picture. He doesn’t feel at all shy letting his clothes wither away and pool somewhere on the floor. They collapse onto the bed in a flurry of limbs and sighs, in gasps and whines. Seokjin works Yoongi open with a few fingers, and Yoongi arches off the bed in a head-spinning stupor. They both kiss the moans from each other’s mouths.
“Are you gonna come for me?” Seokjin whispers, his voice like honey, and Yoongi likes it so much, “Come for me like this?”
Yoongi nods and nods and nods, feeling his muscles tighten in every part of his body, around Seokjin’s fingers, in his chest. He is going to come like this, and he’s fine with it.
Yoongi feels another kiss press to the shell of his ear, feels the unspoken encouragement, the breath at his neck. With a flash of white, hot arousal,he squeezes his eyes so hard he sees stars, and Seokjin supports him as he arches, giving in to his release. His entire body shakes with adrenaline, with exertion, with...so many emotions. His mouth opens in the cry he wishes he could give, but has to be quiet.
When he regains his senses, he looks up at Seokjin peering down at him. Panting, Yoongi says, “I think that meeting went well.”
Seokjin buries his head in Yoongi’s shoulder and they breakdown into quiet laughter.
♬
The morning sunlight filters through the blinds of the bedroom, gently caressing Yoongi’s skin. He inhales, becoming cognizant of his surroundings, aware of Seokjin’s warmth near him. He shifts underneath the covers until his chest is flush against Seokjin’s back, his nose pressed against the warm, bare skin of his shoulders. He throws a hand around Seokjin’s waist, too, just to be closer to him.
Seokjin groans gently, but he doesn’t move. He rubs his hands across Yoongi’s forearm, slowly linking their fingers together. Yoongi wouldn’t mind just being here for the whole day, wedding be damned.
”As much as I want to stay in bed with you all day,” Seokjin’s groggy morning voice says, and then yawns, “you have a groom to take care of.”
Yoongi grunts.
”You’re like a sleepy kitten.” Seokjin muses. His hand is warm in Yoongi’s.
Yoongi says simply, ”Meow.”
Neither of them make any particular fast movement to start the day. Yoongi wants to hold on, just a little bit longer. He almost lost Seokjin, so he is intent on not letting him go, again. Seokjin must know that.
Seokjin chuckles, with an amused, ”Yoongi.”
Yoongi snuggles closer. Stubborn he may be, but he likes being in bed on a good day. And he’s always been a cuddler.
Seokjin breaks out of the younger'sclinginess and rolls over, pushing the hair away from Yoongi’s forehead in a soothing pattern. Yoongi practically mewls. It’s times like these that he thanks whatever cosmic god there is for making a man like Kim Seokjin, who gives him what he needs without asking. Simple things go a long way for Yoongi.
Until Seokjin starts pinching Yoongi’s cheeks. And then pulling them.
“Bastard,” Yoongi groans. Blinking awake, he looks up into Seokjin’s warm morning eyes, feeling his cheeks burn. Not in a good way. But sabatoged from a good lazy morning. Realistically he knows he’s getting up, but god, he doesn’t want to.
”You’re cute.” Seokjin boops his nose. Yoongi feels his eyes slipping closed again.
”Mmm.”
”A cute best man.”
”Hmm.”
“A cute best man who should be getting up or else he won’t get a kiss this morning.”
It took a while, but Yoongi eventually got up from bed. And in the shower they took together, Seokjin kissed Yoongi until he felt breathless. And then he almost got soap in his eye, so it was mediocre at best.
Yoongi believed he planned the perfect wedding. He might just have a big ego, but as a best man and the short amount of time he had, he thinks he did really well.
He took care of all the last minute details, including supervising the decorations, making sure the flower arrangements were pristine, making sure that the seats were aligned perfectly and that everyone got a pack of hand warmers on their seats for the chilly afternoon weather. He checked with the caterers, checked the menus, the drinks and the appetizers, the staff, all of it. And when he had seen all that could be helped, he went to see Hoseok.
They hadn’t talked much growing up about getting married, much less dating. Hoseok was probably 15 years old when he came out to Yoongi, and Yoongi, younger than that, even when he knew he didn't like one specific type of person. That he liked everyone. Together they knew they could count on each other when their feelings got hurt. Hoseok was always going to be a perfect husband; being friends with him all his life taught Yoongiso. Yoongi wasn’t particularly against marriage, but he never actively sought it out. He dated for a genuine connection, not feeling the pressure of finding The One. He finds it humorous that he found Seokjin the way he did, when he wasn’t even looking.
”Hey,” Yoongi greets softly as he slips into the guest bedroom upstairs, “How are you feeling?”
Hoseok beams, “Amazing. I’m so happy, Yoongi.”
And Yoongi, after a week and some change, is happy for him too. Now that he realized what in the world he actually wanted.
Yoongi helps him with his tuxedo, helps tie his bowtie, knowing full well Hoseok could. This is something Yoongi knew he would be doing from childhood, and felt a surge of happiness for his best friend. Yoongi's eyes must be glassy, feeling sentimental and soft, because Hoseok starts to giggle.
“Getting sappy, are we?"
”Maybe.” Yoongi admits. It is the truth. Though his feelings didn’t disappear completely, he knows they lie elsewhere; in supporting his best friend through his marriage, and the rest of his life. The rest of their lives. They would be friends forever.
People started arriving on time and started to fill up the white wicker chairs outside in the backyard garden. It wasn’t too big of a gathering, but intimate enough that it would last, in memory. Dawon made it just in time too, practically flying into the house, hollering, throwingon her bridesmaids dress and taking her place in the bridal party. Namjoon walked down the aisle first accompanied by his parents, and his groomsmen. Yoongi followed soon after, leading the other groomsmen to stand at their correct spot. He looked out and saw Seokjin sitting in the second row, and blushed like a mad man when he winked and threw him an obnoxious hand kiss. Idiot. My idiot.
It was kind of jarring seeing Hoseok walk out of the screened in porch door that he and Yoongi always ran out of at the first sign of summer. It was a good feeling, though, because it lets Yoongi know that even as they grow older, they always will have each other. They'll always be in each other's lives, one way or another. Like Hoseok said, their parents would make sure of it.
And Hoseok cries, of course he does. There wouldn’t be a universe in which he doesn’t cry for sentimental moments. Yoongi had packed tissues in his own suit for this moment, a predetermined notion, if anything. He handed one to Hoseok over his shoulder after exchanging his vows, because that made him cry harder. Namjoon had watched him the whole time.
Namjoon looked absolutely enamored, looking at Hoseok as if he was made out of all the stars in the night sky. Yoongi noticed, belatedly, that he has dimples when he smiles, just like Hoseok. Huh. Imagine that.
When they shared their first kiss as partners, Yoongi hollered the loudest.
The reception was simple and laid back, easy enough to maneuver. Hoseok and Namjoon never let go of each other, and greeted everyone the same—with breathtaking smiles. Yoongi watched them, pride deep in his chest.
At the moment, the sunset colors the reception in beautiful shades of ochre and violet, the sky clear of any clouds. The band is playing a serene slow song, and Yoongi has his arm around the small of Seokjin’s waist, their hands intertwined. Yoongi closes his eyes and feels Seokjin’s cheek rest against his temple as they sway. This is the most comfortable he’s felt in weeks.
“Seems like it all worked out, in the end.” Seokjin comments, squeezing their hands and pulling them together a little closer. It feels like they’re the only people on the planet.
”Yeah.” Yoongi sighs, comfortably in love.
It sure did.
A few months later...
“That was a good take, Seokjin! Your best yet.”
“You’ve said that about every take, Yoongi. Please be a little less in love with me and try to give at least some creative input.”
“Impossible!” Yoongi sits up in his seat. His ears ring with Seokjin’s voice, “I could never. This is my job.”
“To kiss ass?”
“Not everyone’s ass, maybe just yours.”
“That’s so romantic.”
“Can you guys stop being so lovey dovey? It’s revolting.” Suran’s voice cuts their banter, sharp and annoyed. Yoongi knows she’s not really angry.
“Oh come on, noona, you’re just jealous.” Yoongi chuckles hearing Seokjin use that honorific on her. Yoongi told him how it makes her weak.
“I will leave.”
Yoongi sees everything behind the glass of the recording booth, can sees Seokjin roll his eyes. He moves closer to the mic and whispers in the softest voice, “Yoongichi, my producer, I love you.”
A shiver licks Yoongi’s spine. He never gets tired of hearing himself being called a ‘producer’, even though that’s what he is, and what he always has been. Having Seokjin in his studio is a feeling he cannot describe, like coming home after a long night out. It’s his home, and it’s being occupied by someone he feels at home with, too. And knowing Seokjin loves him is just a bigger cherry on top of his sundae.
After the wedding, Seokjin made the decision to make some major changes within his company. He did not get rid of his position completely, but simply decided to oversee it as a business where he was not physically involved. He and Yoongi had discussed it in specific detail—Yoongi was in no place to ask Seokjin to give up his business, but he knows he would be jealous if he had to share Seokjin, in any way. The only way to solve this problem was to make Taehyung an equal partner. Together, he and Seokjin had clientele that would, ultimately, create a stronger brand. Even with Taehyung'stendency to release too much information, he isa very good businessman; very professional, and willing to put in the work that Seokjin would give to him and the other employees.
And Seokjin, having so much free time now that he doesn’t have to fully watch his business, decided to finally take a leap of faith. Yoongi signed him to his label, something he didn’t think he’d get to do. Together, they worked out a professional contract, making sure Seokjin’s ideas were heard and both chose a route that would not squander his potential, and that he felt comfortable working with with Yoongi. Yoongi understood the taboo of dating and working together, but be believed in he and Seokjin’s relationship to be stable enough and open enough to communicate if something were to be wrong. Like they did a while back.
“Why were you hesitant before? When I asked you to sing for me.” Yoongi had asked, one evening at dinner, taking a sip of the red wine from his glass. Seokjin held a little tighter onto his hand in the middle of the dinner table, his eyes sparkling under the low candle light.
Seokjin sighed, “Ah, well, we still had our agreement then and I felt that that was a little too personal for me, for us, at the moment. I felt like it got a little too...close. I needed less of an impact for when I walked away, and that was a large commitment.”
“Right,” Yoongi nodded, understanding that information, “but that’s different, now.”
Seokjin flips his hand over so he cradles Yoongi’s fingers, “Completely different. A good different. I’d love to sing for you.”
Yoongi leans back into his seat again, adjusting his headphones on his ears one more time, “I love you. But don’t sweet talk the producer, that gets you nowhere.”
“Mmm,” Seokjin hums. Hearing it in Yoongi’s headphones, it’s almost like he’s right there next to him, whispering, “I have it on good authority that it does.”
Yoongi mutes the sound booth. He watches Seokjin’s shoulders shake in his obnoxious but adorable laughter. He was ridiculous. But luckily, they could be ridiculous with each other.
