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Dude, where’s my Koi No Yokan?

“Absolutely not!” Seokjin replies to Namjoon’s proposal, the determination in his voice is not enough to make Namjoon quit insisting.

“Yo! Why not?!” the other man in the room asks, vexed at Seokjin’s stubbornness.

“It’s been a long while since you went on a real date and three years since you’ve been in a serious relationship” he continues, slightly shaking Seokjin by the arm like a little kid would.

“Four” Seokjin clarifies nonchalantly, already used to his Undatable Being status, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, his attention more focused on the little man jumping in the television image than on the real person in the room.

“It’s been four years since The Trash Goblin and I broke up.”

“Well, there you have it, more reasons to get out there, meet someone.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Joon-ah. I’ve told you a million times I don’t do Blind Dates anymore.” he states while pressing the buttons on the controller in his hands to make the little man jump and punch things out of his way.

“Come on! Since when?.”

Seokjin closes his eyes, takes an exasperated deep breath, pauses his game and stands up from his gaming chair to walk in Namjoon’s direction.

“Since when? Since the fiasco at Jimin’s and Taehyung’s wedding? Or did you forget about that?” Namjoon drops his head in embarrassment, Seokjin is right, that time they set him up with someone, it was a disaster. 

***

They all thought it’d be a good idea to set Seokjin up with a friend of Jimin’s cousin.

They all thought it’d be a good idea to introduce each other at Jimin’s and Taehyung’s wedding.

They all thought their many arguments, and description of the girl, were what made Seokjin agree.

In reality, Seokjin hadn’t really agreed after their friends’ excruciating labour of convincing, but due to the fact that he had been single for a year by then and he desperately wanted to hook-up with someone to not feel like the loser in a most ugly break up.

Yet, the world was still on lock-down as a result of the pandemic, therefor there weren’t many chances or ways to meet new people organically, so he decided to trust his friends on this one and take his chances with blind dating.

The Girl was perhaps one of the prettiest ones Seokjin had ever met, she liked to dance, and wasn’t shy about making a fool of herself, which were two things Seokjin found appealing, and everything was going fantastic.

After dancing to a few upbeat songs, they stepped out of the dance floor, went to take a break at one of the tables, have a drink and chat a little to get to know each other better.

Taehyung and Jimin where at viewing distance from them, dancing as they held on to each other, laughing, kissing and looking very much in love.

Seokjin smiled fondly at their friends’ happiness.

“Look at them. I’ve never seen two people much more in love, have you?” he told The Girl to try to make conversation.

“Ugh, I don’t know…I mean, I guess.” she shrugged.

“But in the other hand, it’s kinda such a waste, isn’t it?” The Girl continued, an unpleasant tone in her voice, wrinkling her nose as if she had smelt something awful.

Seokjin almost choked on his drink at the words he just heard, but then again, the music was too loud and maybe he had heard wrong.

“Sorry, what? What do you mean <such a waste>?”

“Oh, you know…because…” she leaned towards Seokjin and whispered her next words cautiously.

“Because they are… gay.”

“So?” Seokjin was incredulous and getting pissed.

“Well…there are a lot of pretty girls out there looking for a fine, decent man like any of them, so yeah…I think it’s a waste of men. A tragedy for all women, if you ask me. Besides I don’t think I feel too comfortable with The Homosexual Lifestyle. I just don’t understand how--” That was enough for Seokjin to bear, especially during what was supposed to be a celebration of their best friend’s love. Before the girl could finish her statement, Seokjin chimed in.

“All right, that’s it. We’re done here. Nice to meet you.” Seokjin said the last words with evident sarcasm and stood up to leave.

“Excuse me?! You are leaving me here by myself?!”

“Well, you just said you are not comfortable with The Homosexual Lifestyle, and I don’t know if anyone told you before introducing us, but I’m bisexual as fuck and queer as it gets. So, I guess I’m also living the homosexual lifestyle that makes you sooo uncomfortable.” he mockingly emphasized the last two words shaking his hands by the sides of his head.

“And just to be clear: nobody asked you. So, shut your mouth until someone does.”

Then he walked away to sit all alone at a different table, where he drank to oblivion, pitying himself and his non-existent, possibly-doomed love life for the remaining of the evening.

***

“Oh…I remember now. <Homophobic Ho-Sook>” that was the monicker they gave to The Girl, no one really recalled what her real name was.

“Yeah, of course you remember. And no matter how much I drank that night to try to forget, I just couldn’t. I can barely remember my friends’ wedding, but I remember that fucking conversation as if it was yesterday, so, yeah: no more blind dates for me.”

“This one’s different.” Namjoon insists.  

“Why? How?” Seokjin can’t find reasons to believe Namjoon’s words and he’s on the verge of losing his patience after spending almost all afternoon listening to him trying to convince him to go on another blind date.

“For starters, this one’s a boy, a man. He’s gay so, the chances of him being homophobic are pretty slim, I’d say. And Yoongi’s the sweetest, softest guy, I promise.”

Yoongi, that’s the name of the stranger Namjoon’s being trying to introduce him to for the past month. This is the first time he mentions his name, or gender for that matter, it is a cute name, Seokjin admits to himself, and the way it rings in his ears makes him smirk for a second, before shaking his head to snap out of it.

“I don’t give a fuck if he is made of honey and cotton!” Seokjin snaps, red with frustration, and in that moment Namjoon’s phone is kind enough to ring.

“Calm down, hyung. It’s Jimin, gotta take this.” Namjoon slides the little green phone on the screen to answer the call, revealing the face of a pretty young man with blond hair, smiling with crescent eyes.

“Heeey!!” his voice comes from the other side of the phone, sounding happy and playful.

“Jiminie!! How’s it going? How’s Hawai’i?” Namjoon greets him excitedly, waving his hand to complement the greeting. Then, abruptly, another face appears on the phone’s screen.

“Oh my God! It’s so good, it’s so pretty. I’m on my tenth Piña Colada and I don’t even feel a thing!!” Taehyung replies, visibly drunk and extremely loud, pushing Jimin out of the frame, giggling and looking red all over. Jimin comes back into the frame, his smile almost too big to fill in his small face, he throws an arm behind Taehyung’s back as this one sips through a red straw, what it probably is, his eleventh Piña Colada of the evening.

“How about you, hyung. What are you doing?” Jimin asks Namjoon after covering Taehyung’s mouth with one hand, before he gets a chance to interrupt him again.  

“Just hanging out with Seokjin-hyung.” after hearing those words, Taehyung’s able to escape from his husband’s hold.

“Where is he?! What did he say this time? Did he finally agree to meet Yoongi-hyung?!” Taehyung excitedly asks, this time he takes the phone in his hands and runs away from Jimin, heading towards the bed of their hotel room, where he finally throws himself, phone raised up in his arms to get a clear shot of his face.

“I’m right here, Voo! ” Seokjin answers, getting close enough to the phone to share the frame with Namjoon.

“And for the hundred time, I said no.”

“But, but Yoongi-hyung’s soooooo cool, and sweet and funny! You won’t regret it!” no matter how much Taehyung pouts, Seokjin thinks, he won’t be able to convince him. Suddenly something dawns upon Seokjin, something he hadn’t thought about.

“Wait, you know this Yoongi-person Namjoon has been trying to set me up with?” 

“We all know him, hyung. And we all agree that you’d be so good together.” it’s Jimin who talks this time, joining Taehyung on the bed, laying on his back, his head on his husband’s chest, getting back in the frame.

“How come all of you know someone I don’t? like, how, when, where?” Seokjin and The Boys go way back, some have known each other since they were children, some other since their early teens, and this is the first time, since the six of them come together, that a new person gains access to their little group and, not only do they seem to be really fond of this new person he doesn’t know, but they all seem to like him enough to try to pair the two of them romantically speaking. It’s just not right, Seokjin thinks, it’s not fair.

Jimin chuckles as Taehyung noisily absorbs the sad liquid remains of his Piña Colada before answering.

“Remember a few months ago when we all had the <What Am I Doing With My Life?> crisis and we enrolled in a bunch of crazy activities and workshops?”

“Yeah, I remember. My back still hurts from Flying Yoga last week.”

“And the Drink&Pottery thing you weren’t able to attend because you had Covid? remember that, too?” Jimin continues.

“Yeah, I remember. And it turned out to be an actual pottery workshop and not a Harry Potter Cosplay Open Bar, like Namjoon thought it was. I’m actually kind of glad I missed that one….Why?”

“Well, we met him there!” Jimin replies with an innocent smile and an innocent shrug, like meeting new people and making friends is the easiest and most natural thing in the world.

Taehyung pokes at Jimin’s shoulder to get his attention, it works and Jimin looks up to meet his husband’s face.

“No, baby. We met him that day at The Coffeeshop nearby and gave him Seokjin-hyung’s ticket” Taehyung whispers to Jimin.

“Oooh! That’s right!” he agrees and nods using his whispery voice, too.

“We gave him your ticket!” He turns his face back at the screen and corrects himself, the same innocent smile from before, the one that makes his eyes turn to crescent moons.

Seokjin can’t believe what he is hearing and turns red with disbelief and anger.

“That was like two months ago! You made a new friend two months ago and didn’t tell me anything?!” it makes Seokjin uncomfortable that they not only found a replacement for him right away when he couldn’t hang out, but also the fact that this Yoongi-person wasn’t immediately introduced to him, that he was kept a secret.

“After the workshop was over, The Boys and I went for a drink and we collectively agreed that you two may be a good match for each other.” Namjoon shrugs as he gives further explanation.

“You are kidding, right?” and Seokjin wishes they are.

“Not at all, hyung. We all liked him immediately, even Hoseok, you know Hoseok, he never likes anybody, but he liked Yoongi, which was a good sign. We created a group chat and included Yoongi to get to know him better, then the five of us had a little talk and agreed you guys should meet, and kiss, and fuck and get married and have three thousand babies!” The alcohol in Taehyung’s bloodstream is making him say stupid things. They’ve only known this man for two months, and his friend is talking about marriage and babies

“<The five of us>? Ah! Jeonggukie was there, too.”

“Oh, yeah. He likes him a lot. The two of them have been hanging out every now and then to work on some of Jeongguk’s music.” Jimin responds.

“Then why doesn’t he date this Yoongi-person and leave me alone?!” Seokjin stomps a foot on the floor, defensively, he’s getting tired of his friends not getting that he is not interested in having anymore blind dates or any kind of dates whatsoever for a while.

His last relationship was horrible and ended worse, and after four years of being single, he’s finally found the peace he had been craving for. He doesn’t want to risk it for someone he doesn’t even know and is not interested in knowing.

If he’s meant to find The One, he eventually will without his friends or anyone else interfering. He will leave that task to chance and destiny and serendipity, and he’s sure he won’t hear bells ring, like Jeongguk says, instead he’s sure he’ll hear the other person’s laughter, breaking the comfortable silence, after spending a proper amount of quality time alone together.

It’s sure to say that he doesn’t believe in Love at First Sight, either, he never has and never will, he thinks it’s impossible to develop such tremendous feelings for someone just with one glance; he thinks it’s too superficial, a complete and utter fantasy, a one in a million chances that it’s really True Love and not just physical attraction or infatuation. So, yes: Seokjin doesn’t believe in Love at First Sight, he thinks it’s just a shortcut to disappointment and heartbreak; he won’t think differently, no matter how many times he’s been witness to his friends experiencing it. Seokjin is stubborn like that.

“Ggukie is seeing that person from his boxing class, remember?” what Namjoon is saying it’s true. It’s been a few months since Jeongguk told them he had met someone at the gym and that he wanted to try to pursue something serious with them because he had heard The Bells.

“How serious can it be?” Seokjin asks to particularly no one.

“Well, serious enough to keep quiet about it in order to not jinx it.” Namjoon continues.

And that bit is true, too. Jeongguk hasn’t even told them if the special someone he met is a man or woman, they just know that this person must be someone incredible if Jeongguk is interested in them, and Jeongguk can be a bit superstitious sometimes, especially when it comes to his love life, he firmly believes that the less he talks about it, when nothing is concrete, the better.

“So, what do you say, Hyung? Shall we schedule a meeting?” Jimin rerails the conversation back to the original topic, he wiggles his eyebrows and excitedly giggles.

Seokjin giggles back at him, sarcastically, mocking him, then the smile drops from his face giving place to a stern, serious expression.

“No, we shan’t! And you two should be enjoying your Honey Moon, not trying to ruin my life. You waited three years to be able to travel abroad and consummate what’s been already consummated since high-school. Good bye, now! I love you! See you next month and don’t call again!” And he takes the liberty to abruptly end the call with no warning, shoving the phone back into Namjoon’s hands.

Namjoon sighs and shakes his head, he looks somewhat mortified, as if he had just taken a very difficult decision.

“Hyung…I didn’t want it to come to this, but: you will need a plus one for my wedding.” He says, grabbing Seokjin by the shoulders and looking directly at him, seriousness in every word.

“No, I won’t” Seokjin replies and shakes off Namjoon.

“I will uninvite you otherwise, hyung. You have about four months to meet someone.”

“That’s unfair, you wouldn’t do that to your favourite hyungie. Besides, I don’t need a plus one to have fun, I have all of you, guys!” Seokjin says, sitting back on his gaming chair, lifting his arms in the air, making the chair spin in a full circle, facing Namjoon once again when it stops.

“We are all gonna be in pairs. You are gonna be the odd man out.”

“Ggukie, doesn’t have a partner.”

“He’s taking Mystery Lover.”

“Then I’ll hang out with Hoseok, he’s not seeing anyone at the moment.”

“His friend from California is finally visiting and she is his plus one. He’ll be paying full attention to her, because she doesn’t know anyone else.”

“I’ll third-wheel Jimin and Taehyung, then.”

“Do you really want to do that?”

“Fuck no, I don’t!”

“Then say <yes> to the blind date.”

“Never!”

“Ok, suit yourself. Oh, wait! you are uninvited, you don’t have anywhere to wear a suit!”

Two weeks go by and neither Namjoon, nor any of The Boys, mentioned anything to Seokjin about the blind date during this time. Jimin and Taehyung haven’t called again and that is also a good sign, it means they listened to Seokjin when he told them to enjoy their long awaited Honey Moon.

Seokjin felt relieved to perceive that they had finally come to their senses and had abandoned that stupid idea of setting him up with a stranger. He is not interested in meeting anyone, especially with romantic intentions, he has never liked meeting new people due to his introverted nature.

He is happy with his little group of friends and that’s it.

He is happy right now, sitting at the booth of that Mexican Cantina Jeongguk has being begging them to go to.

Jeongguk stumbled upon this place one night he got lost on his way home after having too many drinks with the guys and desperately needed to charge his phone to call a taxi because he just couldn’t figure out where he was.

The youngest of the group stuffed himself with Mexican Ground Beef Empanadas and Pibil Pork Tacos while he waited for his phone to charge and fell in love with the little make-shift restaurant and with the fact that the delicious, comforting food helped him come back to his senses in a jiffy.

The Cantina is a Hole-In-The-Wall sort of place, a few tables and booths scattered around, and a jukebox, settled at the far end of the place, for the costumers to play the music of their liking and be an extra inflow of cash for the owners.

Despite its rough appearance, The Cantina seems to be really popular given that Seokjin had to park his car a few blocks away from there and when he entered, with Namjoon by his side, it was packed. They were lucky to even find the booth they are sitting in, they would have missed it if they had waited for Hoseok to get out of the car. (“I was taking care of some Important Business!... Okay, I was in a phonecall with my mom, so?!” Hoseok justified himself that way after the other two gave him hell for taking so long)

Jeongguk talks about how cool of a place it is all the time, about how amazing the food tastes and how they all should go for his birthday, but, surprisingly, Jeongguk is the only one of them that is not there, is just Seokjin on one side of the booth and Namjoon and Hoseok on the other.

They are looking at the menu, deciding what to order besides a bottle of something called “Mezcal”, the fact that this type of alcohol comes in different flavours, like Soju, caught their attention and wanted to try it. Seokjin is focused on the menu, carefully reading the descriptions of the food, when he notices that Namjoon and Hoseok are whispering to each other behind their own.

“Alright, what’s going on with you two?” he asks putting his menu down, pointing at them with his knobby index finger. The two men in front of him lower their menus in unison before looking at each other with unreadable expressions, which Seokjin finds suspicious.

“What do you mean, hyung?” Hoseok asks innocently, blinking a few times, the smile tugging from his lips almost impossible to control.

“We were just deciding what flavour of that Mezcal thing to try…I want to try the…tam-ari-ndo, tamarindo flavour, whatever that is, but Namjoon is being a party pooper and wants to try the plain one.”

“I just think we should try the original, classic flavour before moving on to the experimental ones. We don’t know if we are going to like Mezcal or whatever fucking tamarindo is.”

Seokjin looks at both of them, narrowing his eyes, he is not convinced, he doesn’t have any proof, but neither a doubt, that his friends are up to something.

“Yeah…you guys are being weird, but I’ll play along. I’d say, we should go for the tamarindo flavour. Live a little, Joon-ah” he finishes his statement with a wink.

Hoseok claps in excitement and Namjoon rolls his eyes at them, closing the menu and throwing it in the centre of the table, before immediately picking it up again with a little “oh, shit!”, because he hasn’t chosen anything to eat, yet.

“So…” Seokjin starts, his eyes gliding over the menu, still trying to decide if ordering the Pastor Pork Quesadillas or the Beef Milanesa Torta.

“Where is Jeonggukie anyway?” he asks, lifting his eyes from the menu to find both Namjoon and Hoseok with their noses stuck upon their phones, quickly typing, trying to contain smiles.

Hoseok notices right away that Seokjin is looking at them and puts his phone down, then he nudges at Namjoon with his elbow, encouraging him to do the same, and after jumping startled in his place, he does. 

“We haven’t talked to him recently, he’s been M.I.A. almost all week. I think he’s being hanging out with Mystery Lover and ignoring us.” Hoseok shrugs and rubs a hand on his head, his hair is short and spikey, but has already grown so much since coming back from Military Service four months ago.

Before Seokjin can ask anything else about Jeongguk’s whereabouts or about their suspicious behaviour, the waiter comes to the table to take their orders.

Both Seokjin and Hoseok order right away, Pastor Pork Quesadillas and the Shrimp Tacos respectively, but Namjoon is taking a bit to decide, he’s never been good at making rushed decisions, especially about something he’s not too familiar with like it is Mexican food. The waiter tells him he can come back later, but Namjoon insists that he’ll only take a second. He doesn’t.

“Well, screw it. Bring me the Enchiladas” he finally decides, feeling a hint of relieve until the waiter asks if he wants the Enchiladas green or red. The shocked expression on his face makes Seokjin and Hoseok laugh and poor Namjoon just gives up.

“I--just fuck me up, fam. Surprise me.” He replies, with a defeated tone, handing the menu to the waiter, at this point he doesn’t care what he gets, he just wants to eat.

The food was incredibly delicious, as Jeongguk had advertised, and tamarindo Mezcal was fresh, sweet and strong. They didn’t hesitate to order a second bottle after the first one ran out rapidly.

“Alright, tamarindo Mezcal was a damn good idea” Namjoon admits, after taking a small sip from his shot glass filled with the liquid.

At first they thought they were supposed to down the alcohol in one go, like it’s done with Tequila, but it almost disintegrated their throats, the drink was stronger than they thought it would be, and after doing some research online, they found out that Mezcal is not supposed to be drank like a Tequila shot, it has to be drank with short sips, which Mezcal experts call: “besitos”, Little Kisses.

“You gotta listen to your hyungs, Namjoonie. Jwan and I know better than you. We are older, therefore wiser” Hoseok looks already beyond tipsy, speaking with eyes closed solemnly, a hand on his chest. He proceeds to drink the remaining liquid in his shot glass.

“Hoba, we were born the same year. You may be my hyung, but we are basically the same age, so, whatever wisdom you think you possess, I have it, too.”

“Then listen to Seokjin-hyung, he’s the oldest here and the wisest.”

Seokjin shares a closed smile, his index and thumb stretched in a gun shaped gesture and places it under his chin, looking proud, but his ears coloured bashful red.

“Seokjin-hyung’s body may be old, but he’s got a five year old’s mind.” Namjoon replies to Hoseok’s comment, mocking Seokjin’s man-childish ways.

“Ha-Ha, very funny, Joon-ah. You are so rude to your elders; the disrespect, Gosh! How did you manage to trick someone as nice as SoYoon-noona into marrying you?”

“Bro, to be honest, sometimes I ask myself the same thing. I thought I was done with dating women and then she came into the bookstore that one night, and suddenly my life was better, my skin cleared, skies opened up and angels sang.” Namjoon sighs, a look of deep love in his eyes and a dimpled smile across his face, after briefly describing the night he met his now fiancé.

“It was Love at First Sight.” he adds, shrugging as he pours himself another drink, confident about it, like counting from one to ten. Seokjin rolls his eyes at him.

“Come on, you can’t truly believe that, Joon-ah” he says.

“Why not? What is it about falling in love with someone just by looking at them that you find so absurd?”

“Because the whole concept is insane!”

“Love is insane, hyung.”

“Guys…” Hoseok chimes in and elbows Namjoon in the ribs.

“Shut up for a fucking second, will you? Look who’s on a table over there stuffing his face with nachos!” he points with his chin at a table a few meters away from them and there he is, allusive, missing in action Jeongguk… and he’s not alone.

Jeongguk is in the company of a small black-haired man who’s wearing a black way-too-big-for-his-skinny-frame hoodie and blue jeans with big tears that completely expose his knees, his back is facing the three guys across the room and they can’t see his face.

“We should tell him to come sit with us!” Namjoon suggests, raising his hand and waving it.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…what if that’s Mystery Lover? It wouldn’t be okay to interrupt them if they are on a date, besides, Ggukie has been very clear that he wants to introduce us to them until Namjoon-ah’s wedding. He’s not going to want to join us. Leave him be.” Seokjin reasons.

“Nonsense… JEONGGUK-AH!!” Hobi shouts and immediately Jeongguk lifts his head from his food with a quick movement and the man sitting in front of him turns his to try to see where the call came from.

Wow, now that’s a pretty man! Seokjin thinks to himself, he can’t help feeling a little bit envious about Jeongguk, and in that moment, the other man glances directly at Seokjin as if he had read his thoughts, making his heart skip a beat.  Their eyes meet for a split second before Seokjin turning his away, anywhere he settles them is surely better than placing them on, who he is most surely is, Jeongguk’s Mystery Lover. It'd be treason towards his friend if he’s caught making eyes at his date, but fuck! Why does he have to be so fucking pretty?

Contrary to what Seokjin had thought, Jeongguk and his friend stand up from their table and walk toward Seokjin’s.

“WeLl, HeLlo, GuUuUyS! I diDn’T knOw yoU WeRe ComiNG hErE tOdAy, toO!” Jeongguk happily greets them as soon as he reaches his friends’ table. There’s something strange in the way he does it, though, it feels kind of…performative? Overacted? Unnatural?

Seokjin feels uneasy, but he can’t put his finger on why. Jeongguk is always enthusiastic to meet them, especially when it happens by chance like right now. He is always way too enthusiastic about almost anything, like a puppy, but right now, there is something off about the way he addressed them. Seokjin pins it on Jeongguk being nervous about being forced to introduce Mystery Lover before the time was right, and also he seems to have a few beers on him.

“We weren’t able to reach you this whole week, Gguk-ah, so we couldn’t tell you we were finally trying this place” Namjoon tells Jeongguk.

“Oh, it’s being a most awful week. So much work to do at the store, Sale Season is approaching and we have to separate the new collection from the items that will be on sale and for fuck’s sake, today we had the most terrible costumer…” Then Jeongguk starts telling the most over the top story about a rude costumer who got behind the counter when he refused to give them a refund for an item they had allegedly bought at the sporting goods store where Jeongguk works, but all the employees knew that that wasn’t true, because they don’t sell aprons with moustaches.

He is going on and on with the story, making voices for each different participant, doing a bunch of hand gestures as he narrates the tale, meanwhile his friend remains silent, looking all shy and out of place, just looking around the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table, as Jeongguk talks non-stop, barely acknowledging him.

Seokjin notices this and feels bad for the little guy, if this is really Jeongguk’s Mystery Lover, Jeongguk is fucking things up for him. So, he decides to step in, interrupting Jeongguk’s monologue about why the client is not always right especially when you work retail.

“And who’s your friend, Gguk-ah? Is this...?” he lets the sentence linger in the air and wiggles his eyebrows at Jeongguk, a really poor attempt at being discreet.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I got carried away! but, no, hyung. I already told you I will introduce them to you at Namjoonie-hyung’s wedding. This is Yoongi-hyung.”

“Hi!” Yoongi says, shyly shaking a hand next to his ear, a wide, stretched smile on his face, a faint pink blush on his cheeks, a sign that the alcohol he’s been drinking is starting to make its effect on him.

After introducing Yoongi, Jeongguk shares a look with Namjoon and Hoseok and winks at them.

It takes a few seconds for Seokjin to process the words he just heard, and as soon as he does, Seokjin’s stomach falls to his feet. That’s the Yoongi-person. Seokjin’s brain starts frantically working at the speed of light and it all makes sense, now: the way they all just stopped insisting on setting him up on a blind date, Namjoon and Hoseok whispering behind their menus, the compulsive texting with the suspicious smiles and the weird theatrical tone with which Jeongguk greeted them in apparent surprise.

They planned this.

All of it. All of them.

“And this is Seokjin-hyung” Jeongguk continues and the smile on Yoongi’s face drops to the ground. The blush on his cheeks intensifying visibly. His hands turned into fists by his sides. He swallows hard and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“If you excuse me, I gotta go to the bathroom really quickly.” he mechanically turns around, before anyone can say anything, and walks away at an almost comical fast pace, just as if someone were chasing him.

Namjoon scoots over, followed by Hoseok, to make room on their side of the booth for Jeongguk to sit.

“So…what do you think of Yoongi-hyung now that you’ve seen him? Cute, huh?” Jeongguk asks, rubbing his hands and smiling wide and pleased with himself.

Seokjin’s stares at them in silence, a killing look on in his sharp eyes, pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, and the other three can tell that he is pissed as fuck.

“What do I think about him?!” he finally says, crossing his arms. The others smile at him, all teeth and crescent eyes, feigning innocence, anticipating Seokjin’s answer.

“I don’t have any thoughts about him, he’s a stranger, I don’t know him; but I have a few about the three of you. How could you fucking trick me like this? I told you I didn’t want to go on a blind date with him.” Well, that’s his answer; pissed as fuck falls short, murderous weapons instead of eyes pierce through his three friends in front of him, if he can call them that after pulling this stunt.

“Come on, hyung. He’s a great guy.  Give him a chance. Live a little.” Namjoon says with a wink, reminiscent of Seokjin’s words to him when they were deciding on their drinks earlier. Seokjin’s face turns red with frustration at the blatant mockery.

“You can be so stubborn sometimes. You left us no choice.” Hoseok says crossing his arms and looking elsewhere.

“Yoongi-hyung is so cool, I promise. You two are going to get along so well, you’ll see.” Jeongguk basically begs him to give the guy a chance.

Seokjin isn’t really listening to what his friends are saying and starts to move to get out of the booth and leave, but Namjoon stops him by putting a hand on his forearm before he can get too far.

“At least stay so we can hang out together. You don’t have to give him your full attention or interact too much with him if you don’t feel like it. Let’s just try to hang out like we usually do. This is not a date, okay?” Namjoon quickly says, trying to appease Seokjin, squeezing his forearm slightly.

What he is saying doesn’t sound so bad to Seokjin, besides, it’s going to be very obvious that he left because of Yoongi when this one comes back from the bathroom and sees that he’s gone, he doesn’t like being rude, and with a bunch of other people there, it hardly could be considered a date.

Seokjin sighs and rolls his eyes at them.

“Just tell me one thing: was he up for this, too? Was he also part of this dumbass set up?” before any of the guys can answer, Yoongi returns from the bathroom, the bangs that cover his forehead dripping with water, the pink in his cheeks intense still.

Yoongi stops in his tracks, a few steps before reaching the table, after noticing that the only place available to sit is next to Seokjin, this one catches Yoongi rolling his eyes and mouthing “are you fucking kidding me” and those two actions are enough to answer Seokjin’s question and returns to take his previous place.

And Yoongi has no other choice but to continue walking towards the table and sit down next to a person he had explicitly said he didn’t want to meet, he had told Jeongguk and the others that he didn’t want to partake in any blind dating, he doesn’t like forcibly meeting people, he doesn’t like strangers, strangers make him nervous and anxious; especially strangers as handsome as the one he will be forced to interact with.

***

He was never the one to participate in things like this, but those three young men were very convincing.

It’s not that he didn’t find pottery interesting, is just that he never had a reason to be interested in such craft, nevertheless the argument of one the three younger men, who had randomly approached him while he was working on his writing (at the only coffeeshop that allowed him to sit without ordering anything), the one with the boxy smile, made him begin to rethink this fact.

“…and then we all were like <I don’t want to be an old man, in the twilight of my life, filled with regrets about my youth> Do you want to be an old man in the twilight of your life filled with regrets about your youth or do you wanna know what Real Fun is?” Boxy asked at the end of the dramatic retelling of the discussion that brought him and his friends to their current situation.

“I know what Real Fun is…” Yoongi replied shyly.

“I apologize if I’m over stepping here, but” The one with the blond hair and an adorably crooked teeth said politely.

“You are by yourself in a coffee shop writing what seems to be…” he leaned over to take a look at what Yoongi was writing on his laptop, he closed it immediately, but it was too late, the other man had seen everything.

“A sci-fi short story about merfolk on the Moon.” he concluded arching one eyebrow.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yoongi replied with a frown and a pout, he didn’t feel like Blond was overstepping, but he felt like he was a bit too out spoken and opinionated for someone talking to a person he didn’t know.

“I mean, I’m not saying that people who write science fiction are boring or that they don’t know how to have fun, but you ARE all alone on a Friday evening, your phone is nowhere to be found, which means that you are not expecting a call or a text from friends to hang out later, and you look like the introverted kind. Feel free to tell me where the lie is.”

Nothing Blond had said was a lie, he was introverted and he didn’t have plans for the evening, nor anyone to hang out with for that matter, and the reason for that, was that Yoongi had moved to The City months ago, months, and he didn’t have any friends there yet, not even from work.

He was never the one to feel comfortable among people he didn’t know, or good at making friends, not that he was unpleasant to be around, but he was too shy at first, it took him way too long to approach people and even longer to feel comfortable around them, but maybe attending a pottery workshop with these three fellas and his two friends wasn’t such a bad idea, he had to think about it.

“I--I don’t know…I recently moved here and I spent most of my savings in the moving, I haven’t been able to recover financially yet, so, I don’t think I can afford a thing as fancy as that” His heart wanted to do it, his reason was hesitating; his mouth wanted to say “yes”, yet his wallet screamed “no”

“Well, that’s the best part!” the guy with the tattoo sleeve spoke, his mouth stretching in a smile that revealed bunny-like front teeth, a stark contrast between his tough biker look.

“It’s already been paid for! You’ll be taking the spot of a friend who can’t be joining us because he’s bedridden with Covid.”

“I can’t pay your friend back.”

“You don’t have to, he asked us to find someone to take his place.” this last part was a lie, this friend never asked them to find anyone to take his place, it was someone else who had the idea of finding someone to give the spot to, this person had paid for the tickets and he didn’t want to feel like he had thrown away his money.

“I’m still not sure abou--"

“There’s gonna be free drinks.” Tattoos said and smiled, the other two young men did the same and stared at Yoongi like little children asking for permission to play outside.

Quickly, Yoongi put away all his stuff inside his back-pack and stood up bouncily.

“You should have started with that. Let’s go!”

Jeongguk, Taehyung and Jimin bursted into laughter and immediately decided that they wanted Yoongi to be their friend.

Taehyung locked his arm with one of Yoongi’s, and they took off, followed by Jeongguk and Jimin.

“By, the way, I do have friends back home” Yoongi clarified the young men.

“You just made better ones.” Taehyung replied.

At first Hoseok wasn’t sure about including a stranger in their group activity, but that was until the two of them, and Namjoon too, began talking about music, especially rap, and after a few minutes of talking and discussing Old School versus New School, they had bonded.

They got the chance to talk and to get to know each other a little bit more as time went by, and as they fucked up their pottery projects; they discussed their interests, their jobs, their lives and their expectations for the future. They felt like they had known Yoongi for a really long time.

The boys soon found out that the newcomer was the type who kept to himself, but always had good intentions, a supportive word when someone felt that they had ruined their piece, and a peculiar deadpan sense of humour that reminded them of a certain someone who wasn’t there, who also happened to be queer and single, just like Yoongi.

By the end of the workshop, the five of them were endeared with Yoongi, he was so peculiar, he was a Champagne Cork: tranquil and calmed until something had him flying through the air violently for a second and then still again.

And against Yoongi’s usual nature, he felt immediately comfortable and welcomed by this group of friends. Even if they had known each other almost all their lives, he felt like he belonged with them, so he didn’t hesitate when, before going their separate ways, Namjoon asked for his number to add him to a group chat.

After Yoongi took off home, when the workshop was over, the rest began a conspiracy to have their new friend Yoongi, and their old friend Seokjin meet with romantic intentions; both of them had been single for a while and there was just something about their personalities that gave the rest of the guys the feeling that they would just

make sense

Sometime later, they had gotten to know Yoongi better, and they were more than convinced that he’d be a good match for Seokjin, they decided they’d play matchmaker for their friends. It was imperative that they met each other.

The challenge was that neither of them would agree to a blind date between them.

Both of them profusely refused to participate in such a thing, both screamed and covered their eyes when they were shown pictures of the other. Sometimes Yoongi would swat their hands away from him and Seokjin would go all the way to slap the phone off Namjoon’s hands and onto the floor.

The refusal was ridiculous and childish on both sides, so the guys had no other choice but to make a secret matchmaking plan and execute it as soon as possible.

***

With a sigh, Yoongi flops next to Seokjin inside the booth and crosses his arms, the silence at the table is an awkward one and Hoseok decides that he is the one who should do something about it.

“How about some music, huh? We all like music here, right? How about we take turns playing songs on that big fat music machine? I’ll go first.” Hoseok stands up with difficulty, the glasses of Mezcal making quite a number on him, he begins to try to get out of the booth, turning side to side, not sure if he should give Jeongguk his crotch or his ass as he tries to pass him by. Jeongguk can’t lean back any further to give Hoseok more room to walk and they begin to loudly and drunkenly argue about it to the point that people are starting to turn their heads towards their table.

“For fuck’s sake, Gguk-ah! Get up!” Seokjin shouts exasperated.

“Let Hoseok walk. Don’t be lazy!” Yoongi next to him chimes in and both of them freeze, and the fight against turning their eyes at each other is evident for anyone who’s able to enjoy the sense of sight.

The other three guys exchange complicit looks and smiles.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think about that, sorry hyung.” Jeongguk apologizes and stands up, when he does, he wobbles a little bit, he too is somewhat drunk, he and Yoongi had been drinking at Yoongi’s place before arriving to The Cantina.

The song Hoseok chooses starts playing, he turns his back to the jukebox and begins walking-swaying back towards the table. He doesn’t sit back in the booth when he gets there, he stands in front of his friends singing and delivering a dramatic interpretation of the song. They are stunned by Hoseok’s performance, just looking at him without moving a muscle, all of them except Yoongi, who is waving his arms side to side above his head, singing along with Hoseok, eyes closed and hearts open, feeling every word in a song about how much they love their mothers.

The scene is so ridiculous that the rest eventually joins in to intensely sing along with the other two; they all love their mothers very much, apparently, and their levels of alcohol and the song and Hoseok’s rendition of a classic Korean tune, are the perfect combination to encourage that feeling.

Seokjin can’t help but look at Yoongi with the corner of his eye; he seems to get along so well with Hoseok, and that almost never happens. Hoseok is the most protective of his group of friends, yet the two of them are acting as if they’ve known each other for ages; there’s such a good chemistry between the two of them, the thing is, that Hoseok is not gay nor queer and after thinking about Hoseok’s Unfortunate Heterosexual Destiny (as Hoseok himself calls it), one corner of his lips betrays him in the form of a little triumphant smile. Why did he smile? Is he glad that none of his friends can be paired up with Yoongi? No, that can’t be it. It must be the show they are putting on.

The song ends and Hoseok laughs loudly, Jeongguk stands up and makes a ceremonious ninety degree bow to Hoseok, this one returns it and takes his seat back between the former and Namjoon.

“You are such a Mama’s Boy, Hoba.” Namjoon shakes his head as he pours himself another drink.

“It’s not my fault your mother doesn’t love you! Maybe you should call her more often.”

“My eomma loves me very much, Hoba.” Namjoon replies unamused.

“You should call her more often, anyway.”

“Whatever… so, Yoongi-ya!” Namjoon turns his attention to him before the bickering continues for much longer.

Yoongi perks up, like a cat hearing his baggy of wet-food being opened, at the sound of his name being called.

“How’s the novel going?” Yoongi covers his eyes with his hands, and sinks a little in his seat, as a reaction to the question.

“It’s going okay, I guess” he replies, tilting his head, trying to seem aloof; that pink blush from before returning to his cheeks.

“Seokjin-ah, did you know Yoongi here is soon going to be a published author?” Jeongguk adds and Seokjin arches an eyebrow, he knows what they are doing, they are trying to inconspicuously sell Yoongi to him, make him look interesting.

“That’s nice” he says calmly, pouring himself another glass of Mezcal, trying not to be drawn to Yoongi’s pretty pink blush and the tiny, almost imperceptible moles on his cheek and nose.

“It’s a space musical, right, Yoongi-hyung?” Jeongguk continues.

“A Space Opera” Yoongi corrects, his voice deep and soft, shy, almost a whisper, pulling at the hangnails of one his thumbs.

“What’s the difference?” Jeongguk asks with a shrug and takes a sip of his beer.

“Come on, Jeongguk-ah.” Seokjin answers instinctively. As a Film Major, one of his pet peeves is people confusing genres.

“A Space Opera is a science fiction story happening solely in outer space.” He continues.

“Like Star Wars.” Yoongi adds, a little more perked up this time.

“Yeah, like Star Wars.” Seokjin seconds, looking at Yoongi and regretting it almost instantly.

How could he think Yoongi was Jeongguk’s Mystery Lover? He doesn’t look like the kind to box or even go to a gym, he seems so dainty and skinny, almost a runt; a runt with really big hands and a sharp jawline and round pink cheeks, and an adorable button nose and…

“Star Wars is fantasy.” Namjoon says as Jeongguk nods in agreement and Seokjin is taken away from his thoughts, he would be thankful if Namjoon hadn’t said what he deems as utter nonsense.

“Namjoon-ah, please not again. I don’t want to get violent tonight.” Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb, seemingly trying to remain calmed. Namjoon chuckles across the booth, an evil smile on his face, he knows what he’s doing, he knows this argument pisses Seokjin off.

“Not me. I have no problem with getting violent anytime” Yoongi says, lifting the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows and drawing one arm back with his hand in a fist as if he were to punch Namjoon, nose scrunched and bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth. Seokjin can’t help huffing a little laugh, Yoongi’s kinda funny, he thinks.

The classic argument proceeds with Namjoon and Jeongguk comparing it to the classic trope of The Heroes Journey, which is mostly used to tell fantasy stories, like The Lord of the Rings, but Yoongi refutes their argument by saying that there are a bunch of real life stories that use this trope and have zero fantasy elements.

Seokjin states the obvious sci-fi characteristics that can’t possibly be overlooked: advances in technology and medicine, extra-terrestrial species, the vehicles and even the politics, and the fact that it happens in space, to which Jeongguk says that not all stories set in space are science fiction, like movies about real life space travels, and he is not wrong either.    

It becomes a ping-pong match of arguments and information about spaceships, magic, super powers, light and crystals physics, old-wise-bearded spiritual guides, elves, talking trees, clones, even the infamous midichlorians are mentioned; all of it accompanied with hands in the air, menacing pointing, rubbing of faces, veins popping on temples, the raising of voices and fists banging on tables.

Namjoon and Seokjin have ended and restarted their friendship about four times in the hour and a half the argument has being going on without any resolve in sight as usual.

“Okay, so Namjoonie-hyung and I are sure that Star Wars is fantasy and you two swear is science fiction…there’s only one way to settle this debate…” Jeongguk interrupts the argument with the intention of keeping Namjoon and Seokjin from going at each other’s throats, he turns to Hoseok, who had been silent throughout the argument, playing games on his phone and tending to his social networks.

“Hobi-hyung…what do you think? Star Wars: sci-fi or fantasy?” Jeongguk asks him and everyone turns to expectantly look at Hoseok, who has been caught off guard by Jeongguk’s question.

“Honestly, Guggkie…” Hoseok slowly places his phone on the table and turns to look at all of them with indifference in his hooded eyes and loudly sniffles.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about it. I’ve never watched Star Wars and now I don’t plan to after seeing you guys get into stupid arguments about it all the fucking time. You fucking ruined that for me, as you ruined Mario-fucking-Kart and Taco-fucking-Tuesday. So, all of you can shove it.“ He concludes, in the hopes that that would settle it, doing a flourish with his hand.

“Fuck you, Hoseok. Cut them right here.” Seokjin says showing Hoseok his two curved index fingers connected by their tips, and Hoseok shows him two finger hearts and a sarcastic wide smile in return.

Yoongi chuckles and the sound makes Seokjin inadvertently shift in his seat, the change in his position resulting in his knee encountering Yoongi’s under the table, and then he regrets wearing those stupid jeans with stupid huge holes in them, because he can feel all the warmth and softness of Yoongi’s skin slightly brushing against his own and it’s doing things to him; he feels a heat spreading all through his body, emerging from the place their knees are pressed together, he can feel his heart pounding in his throat, his ears must be hot-iron red by now.

He can’t understand why he’s not moving, and Yoongi is not moving either and doesn’t seem to be startled by the touch. Perhaps Yoongi is way more drunk than he seems and hasn’t even noticed, then it means that it’s his job to shift in his seat again and remove his knee from Yoongi’s, but he’s not doing it, he is liking the pressure Yoongi’s bony knee exerts on him.

His drunken mind begins to wonder: if he is feeling this good and heated just by the brush of Yoongi’s naked knee on his, how good would it feel to have Yoongi’s naked little body pressed against his? To run his hands all over it?

He shuts his eyes and shakes his head to send the thoughts away, he reminds himself that he doesn’t want this, that he won’t jeopardize his peace of mind for anyone or anything, not even for a cute button nose and long lashes, but it’s not enough. He needs to take some time to ground himself, he has to go to the bathroom, wash his face with cold water and put himself back together, but to get away from Yoongi he has to talk to Yoongi, ask him to move, so he can walk by, and he has no idea of how to approach him.

He turns his upper body in Yoongi’s direction, yet his eyes are aimed at his own lap as he tries to find the words to say what he wants to say.

“I--” He dares to speak and as if Yoongi had read his thoughts, he apologizes and gets up from the booth, giving way for Seokjin to walk through.

And It’s only for a second, but it’s enough for Seokjin to notice how small Yoongi's frame is compared to his, as they stand face to face, before taking off on his way to the bathroom, and Yoongi sitting back down in the middle of the booth’s seat.

He would be so easy to manhandle. I'm a giant next to him, this intrusive thought makes Seokjin increase his pace.

This leaves Yoongi at the table alone with the others, who innocently smile at him while Yoongi looks at them with a frown and arms crossed.

“How could you do this to me?” he asks dignified, eyes narrowed looking at the three men in front of him.

“How could you do this to me?” Yoongi repeats.

“I thought we were friends. I thought I told you I didn’t want to take part in any blind-fucking-dating.” He continues, hands in fists on the table, teeth gritted.

“But, this is not a date, hyung.” Namjoon says, unphased pouring some more Mezcal in his small glass.

“What?” Yoongi asks, blinking confused.

“Yeah, this is not a date, hyung. We just ran into the rest of the guys and the one person in the group you still hadn’t met.” Jeongguk might be good at many things, but he is not good at telling lies.

“Do you think I’m stupid? What are the chances that you tried to convince me to go on a blind date with your friend, what’s his name? Oh, yes: Seokjin! I refused and, not even a month later, we suddenly run into the lot of you and…guess who!? SEOKJIN! You planned this, all of you. Don’t say you didn’t. And by the look on his face when you said my name, I can tell that he wasn’t part of this wretched-matchmaking-low-budget-amateur reality show you put together” When he’s done talking, Yoongi is breathing heavily, the other three are looking at each other, they are trying to hold back their laughter, they are drunk by now, and they don’t care if Yoongi or Seokjin can see right through them.

“This is all your fault, Yoongi-hyung, if you think about it.” Hoseok answers, his words slurry, a hiccup follows his statement, his eyes hooded and his face clammy.

“And, okay! You got us there, but, you must admit that Seokjin is fucking hot, isn’t he?” he continues and winks at Yoongi, reaching to shake the latter’s arm.

“Then YOU go on a date with him!” Yoongi replies, freeing himself abruptly from Hoseok’s grasp.

“Oh, believe me. I’d loved to, but unfortunately I was burdened with The Curse of Heterosexuality, no matter how hard I tried to get rid of it.” Namjoon and Jeongguk place a hand on each of Hoseok’s shoulders, eyes closed and the other one over their heart, a sad, mournful look on their faces, while between them, Hoseok touches his heart with the most painful expression on his face.

“Try harder.” Yoongi spits out and the four of them begin laughing.

“Okay, yeah. He’s unfairly handsome and he seems cool and smart, but…” Yoongi sighs.

“But this is not what I wanted. You can’t force people to like each other.”

“Okay, you are right, hyung.” Namjoon sincerely admits.

“Let’s just try to get along, ok? We’re all friends here, no pressure. Let’s say, it was about time you two knew each other to complete the group, alright? Don’t be mad at us, we meant well.” He turns to look at the other two by his side with a defeated dimpled smile.

“We just want the two of you to be happy, you both deserve a nice kind of love after all the heartbreak you’ve been through, and we thought we could kill two birds with one stone if you got together. We’re sorry.” it’s Jeongguk who speaks this time. His romantic ass was excited to play cupid for his best friends.

“We’ll apologize to Jin-hyung, too when we get the chance. We promise, ok? Let’s do as Namjoon says, let’s enjoy the night! I love you guys so fucking much, guys!” Hoseok wraps an arm behind Jeongguk’s shoulder to his left and another behind Namjoon’s on his right, he is beyond tipsy now, he can’t really hold his liquor, but he tries.

Yoongi just nods, he’s not mad. He doesn’t know what he is, what he feels about all of it.

In one hand, he feels betrayed that his friends pulled something like this and tried to fool him; but in the other hand, it wasn’t an exaggeration when he was told that Seokjin had the most perfect face and Pacific Ocean Shoulders.

His friends didn’t mention it, but he couldn’t help noticing that he also had deliciously plump lips and the sluttiest little waist he had ever seen in a man so tall. He had been fighting the thought of clinging to it like a koala bear in heat, and it didn’t help when their knees accidentally touched, and an overwhelming chill went up his spine, and Seokjin just left it there like it was nothing. It got worse when Seokjin stood up and Yoongi was almost able to see the inside of his crotch peaking from that tremendous rip in his pants over the right thigh.

“Thank you for understanding. I’m not mad at any of you, I promise. Just don’t try anything like this again, okay? Don’t push it.” Yoongi sighs and relaxes, slumping on his seat. He feels relieved knowing his friends’ tricks are over.

“Sure, hyung. It shouldn’t be a worry.” Jeongguk gives him a thumbs up and winks.

“What shouldn’t be a worry?” Yoongi didn’t see Seokjin coming back from the bathroom and wasn’t expecting to get that much startled by the sound of his voice next to him.

“Oh! About his ride home. I was telling Yoongi-hyung that I’m not that drunk to drive him back.” Jeongguk continues, he really isn’t that drunk, but perhaps he should start to cut down his drinking and switch from beer to water.

Seokjin leans on the table, supporting himself with both hands on each corner of it and gives Jeongguk a scrutinizing gaze, trying to read his expression to see if he’s lying, but Jeongguk, surprisingly, is not giving him anything or he's too drunk to notice.

“I don’t know if I can trust any of you, now.” he finally says, before standing up straight again and clears his throat to get Yoongi’s attention, still not sure of how to approach him, so he can take his seat back.

Yoongi turns his head to where the sound came from, only for his gaze to be met with Seokjin’s middle. Startled, he turns his head up to get his eyes as far away from Seokjin’s lower half as much as possible, only to forget every thought in his mind almost immediately when he is met with Seokjin’s face at a towering distance from his, this one’s eyes looking directly at Yoongi’s, at an angle that is just giving him ideas, ideas that he is supposed to be against of, ideas that are making his tongue dart out and absentmindedly slide across his lips without him noticing, until he does.

“Oh, sorry. I-I’ll move." Yoongi exclaims embarrassed after realizing he just licked his lips while looking into another man’s eyes from below him, and begins standing up to give Seokjin space to sit back in his place.

Yoongi’s unwitting action doesn’t go unnoticed by Seokjin, he stills nervously for a second, before doing something he doesn’t think about doing: he reaches forward and holds Yoongi by the shoulders, stopping him from continuing getting up, and then pushes him back to his seat, unaware of how much strength he uses, but is enough to make Yoongi bounce when his butt hits the seat, leaving this one with no other choice but to sit still in shock and blush, while the other three men in front of them share a confused look among them, frozen in place.

After realizing what he had just done, he slowly lets go of Yoongi’s shoulders and stands up in an almost soldier like manner.

“I--I….em, you--you don’t have to get up, just scoot over. I don’t mind.” Yoongi doesn’t turn his face this time, he just does what Seokjin tells him to do, forcing his eyes to remain on his own lap to avoid any more unwilling reactions from the deep of his subconscious.

What the hell just happened? Seokjin thinks to himself after sitting down, he hadn’t felt that sort of tension in a really long time, he had forgotten how it felt to be so attracted to someone it makes him stupid. Was that what it was? No, not possible, Yoongi was being weird and he got weirded out by Yoongi’s weirdness, that was all. He needs a drink and he needs it now, before he starts thinking too much about Yoongi’s shiny tongue wetting his pretty curved lips and the enticing way he was looking into his eyes from below.

“Where the hell’s my drink?” Seokjin asks himself out loud and then he realizes that Yoongi and him just switched places, so it’s on the other side.

He reaches for his glass at the same time as Yoongi does, causing their hands to brush against each other just for a second, both pulling them back instantly, as if the other's skin were burning coals or a venomous snake waiting for the slightest provocation to deliver a deadly bite. The abrupt movement causes both of their glasses to knock over on the table, spilling their contents, the liquid rapidly spreading across its surface to the other side, making a mess, dripping over Hoseok’s shirt and lap.

“Jesus fucking Christ! You two get a fucking grip, already!” Hoseok raises his voice at them.

As Hoseok picks up the glasses and some napkins to clean the table and himself, Namjoon is turned to the wall next to him with a hand over his mouth, not sure if he should laugh or cry, while Jeongguk has seemingly disconnected from the situation, staring blankly into space. Seokjin and Yoongi sit at the other side of the booth looking like scolded children, not very sure of what just happened.

“Jeongguk, let me through!” Jeongguk is taken back from inside his head by Hoseok’s stern voice, he doesn’t say anything, he knows it’s better to listen to Hoseok when unpleasant things happen to him.

Jeongguk chuckles nervously with his hands inside his pockets.

“Well, since I’m already standing, I guess I’ll go play some music.” and he takes off quickly, leaving Namjoon to deal by himself with the awkwardness in the room.

“So…” he begins saying.

“I heard there’s gonna be a storm tonight…” he continues, not very sure of what he should do, or say.

Seeing that Namjoon is visibly uncomfortable, Seokjin tries to say something to assure him that is not necessary to make small talk, apparently Yoongi has the same idea.

“Yeah, Joon-ah… don’t--”

“It’s ok…you don’t have to--” their words end up over lapping, which makes them awkwardly apologize to each other, one telling the other to continue, to which the other replies that, no, that he should continue. Namjoon just watches them, half endeared and half confused at their friends’ interaction, perhaps getting them together is not a lost cause after all, maybe they just don’t like having an audience.

“Alright, everything’s fine” Hoseok comes back from the bathroom, walking slowly with his hands raised by the sides of his head as if calling truce, in a much better mood and a better state.

“Forgive me for my outburst. It’s just clothing. Nothing happened. I’m sorry for my fault.” he doesn’t seem to mind, or to know, that the wet spot on his clothes is much larger than when he left. He sits back, lays his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and closes his eyes, but before he can even think about relaxing, Jeongguk comes back and randomly shouts: 

“Alright, sad bitches!!” Then, he slams on the centre of the table what looks like a pile of cardboard pieces with pictures of random objects drawn on them, followed by a deck of cards, and finally a bag of raw beans.  

“Let’s play a game!”

“Just like Bingo, then?” Seokjin simply states, curving an eyebrow, after hearing Jeongguk explain the rules of the game he was given by one of the waiters when he asked to borrow a board game.

“No, it’s not Bingo. It’s Lotería!” Jeongguk corrects him, a slightly heartbroken tone in his voice and a little pout on his lips.

“Okay, let me see if I got the rules…” Namjoon begins.

“Each of us gets one of this little cardboards that is divided in several squares and in each square there’s a picture of some random object, thing…so far so good?” Jeongguk quickly nods a few times.

“And there’s one person, who doesn’t have to play if they don’t want to, who pulls a card from the deck, and shouts the name of the object in the picture, that an angel before us was kind enough to write in Hangul because I have no fucking idea how to pronounce some of these things; and if you have it in your cardboard, you put a bean on it and the one who covers every picture on their cardboard with the beans, before everyone else, wins?”

“That person also has to shout <LOTERÍA!> otherwise their winning doesn't count, but yes: those are the rules.” Jeongguk agrees.

“Okay, so it is like Bingo!” Namjoon replies, teasing Jeongguk, and everyone laughs, except for him.

“It’s not Bingo!” He fights back.

“It sounds pretty much like Bingo to me.” Yoongi adds, shrugging, holding a giggle.

“How about we make it a little less like Bingo?” an evil smirk forms on Seokjin’s face.

“It’s not--" Jeongguk’s protest is interrupted by Hoseok shaking a hand in front of his face.

“Shhh!!...We are listening...” Hoseok leans over with his fingers intertwined, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How about, every time someone gets to put a bean on their thingy, the ones who don’t have to take a shot?” the smirk on Seokjin’s face is immediately mirrored on the faces of the rest.

“AND! How about this, just to keep everyone on their toes…” Hoseok continues, he has an idea of his own…

“Every time someone DOESN’T get to put a bean on their thingy, they are allowed to say something embarrassing about the people who do?”

Everyone celebrates the idea, both ideas.

“Damn! Hoseok might be evil!”  Yoongi says, bursting in laughter, his big gummy smile in full display for the first time in the night.

“Bitch, I might be!” Hoseok’s sassy reply is met with more laughter from everyone else.

As they all laugh, Seokjin only has eyes for Yoongi, trying to be discreet while looking at Yoongi’s gummy smile; it reminds him about cotton candy, about his childhood and better times when everything was simpler and his only worry was oversleeping and missing his favourite Saturday Morning cartoons. That smile must be worth over ten billion wons.

And even if this wasn’t what Seokjin had planned when he went out tonight, perhaps having Yoongi as a friend is not such a bad idea.

“I will have my vengeance.” with narrowed eyes and lips pursed, Jeongguk proceeds to drink his shot, he was the only one who didn’t put a bean on his cardboard this time.

He cringes at the taste, his face wrinkles in disgust at the burning liquid sliding down his throat, it makes him cough, his eyes to water and his face goes red, eliciting mocking laughter from the rest of the guys.

“Okay, okay…” Jeongguk exclaims, after recovering from the burning sensation, blowing some air. He points at Hoseok before speaking.

“Hoseok believed in Santa Claus until he was sixteen!” Hoseok covers his face with both hands before trying to make up excuses for himself, but his arguments are muffled by everyone laughing at him, momentarily forgetting that none them are off the hook.

Jeongguk smiles satisfied with himself and continues, this time he turns to look at Seokjin in front of him.

“Seokjin-hyung, he, one time…” He starts giggling like crazy, yet no sound comes out of his mouth, just at thinking about what he’s going to say, nose scrunched and eyes pressed closed, tilting his head up and rocking back and forth.

“Seokjin-hyung, he went berserk at the manager at the movie theatre because the whole room we were in smelt of poop, only to realise, mid-argument, that he was the one who had stepped on dog shit.” They all burst in laughter, Seokjin chuckles trying to hold back, and Yoongi covers his mouth with both hands in surprise; being the newcomer, he doesn’t know most of the embarrassing anecdotes they’ve been sharing for the last hour or so they’ve been playing the first round of Lotería.

One round of the game usually takes less than five minutes, but given the rules they added to it, one round is taking forever and it’s fine, they are having fun mocking each other and their shameful past, because, what is a little healthy bickering between friends if not an excuse to make the friendship stronger?

“Not only that…” Namjoon is who speaks this time, wiping tears of laughter from one of his eyes.

“He left little poopie-footprints all along the stairs and hallway. Like fucking breadcrumbs!” Seokjin is red, trying to stop laughing about his own stupidity, shoulders shaking and covering his mouth.

“Shut up!” Yoongi says, incredulous and amused at the same time.

“It’s all true. We called you <Hansel> for the rest of the year, remember?” Hoseok says, pointing at Seokjin with his chin and Seokjin can’t hold his laughter anymore, he laughs loud and squeaky and then he laughs as if he is fighting for air, and then only with his shoulders, laughing this hard has made him lost the ability to make sounds, apprently.

And it’s so fucking endearing to watch Seokjin laugh like that, laughing with his whole body, so freely and carefree, shameless. Yoongi smiles, small and shy, looking at him, elbow on the table, chin on the back of his hand, unaware of the stars in his eyes as he watches the man next to him turn red like a stop sign and laugh like a windshield wiper.

“Namjoonie-hyung!” Yoongi is pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Namjoon jokingly warns Jeongguk, he knows what he’s going to say.

The smile on Jeongguk’s face is an evil one, his brows furrowed and his teeth bare, looking like an evil bunny, he rubs his palms together as he laughs villainously.

“Namjoon’s first kiss was Taehyung!” Jeongguk laughs clapping, Seokjin and Hoseok stick their tongues out with a disgusted expression, Namjoon covers his face with the seams of his jacket as he sinks in his seat in embarrassment. Yoongi is the only one who looks confused, because, how can that be embarrassing?

“Come on! What’s wrong with that? Taehyung’s a cutie.”

“Taehyung’s his cousin!” Seokjin replies to Yoongi’s question, emphasizing the word cousin with a repulsed frown.

“Holly shit, gross. How did that happened?!”

“We were fourteen-ish. It was just a peck. We didn’t know we were related. It’s difficult to know who’s family and who’s not when you have the most common last-name in South Korea.”

“What about Jimin? I thought they had been dating since they were four.”

“They’ve know each other and been best friends since they were that young, but started messing around when they were fifteen. Right afer Namjoon's and Tae's fleeting romance.” Seokjin answers, pouring himself some more Mezcal on his little glass.

“Fascinating! How did that happened?” Yoongi asks to particularly no-one, a hidden intention in his question that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeongguk.

“Nah-ah! You can’t run away from me, Yoongi-hyung!” Yoongi narrows his eyes at Jeongguk as if saying take your best shot, shaking his head slowly.

“Yoongi-hyung sucked on his pacifier until he was five!” the rest of the guys turn to look at Yoongi as if he had grown a third head, then they all laugh and ironically Hoseok calls him a “baby.”

“What can I say? I’m orally fixated.” Yoongi replies suggestively, raising his eyebrows, a smug expression on his face, sticking out his tongue and licking one of the corners of his mouth. Seokjin chokes at Yoongi’s words while trying to take a sip of his drink, the liquid splashing all over his face, when he coughs into the glass.

“Excuse me…” is the only thing that Seokjin manages to say, voice groggy and rough, ears coloured shameful red; he cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, gets up and starts walking towards the jukebox, ashamed and mortified about the way his body betrayed him.

Everyone at the table chuckles at Seokjin’s sudden reaction, except for Yoongi, who can’t help feeling worried about what he said, it was just a joke.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks, a hint of fear in his voice, his heart sent into anxious, rapid beating.

Yoongi didn’t want to offend Seokjin, he already likes him, as a friend that is, and he wouldn’t want to leave a wrong first impression on him; he’s aware that Seokjin is closer to the rest of the guys and that he is just a new addition to the group, he’s worried that offending Seokjin in any way, or being unpleasant towards him, could ruin what he’s being building for the last two months with the rest of them. He wouldn’t like to see something he’s already fond of, the one thing that has made a strange city feel like home, crumbling down just because he made a joke while he was drunk.

“You didn’t say anything wrong, hyung.” Namjoon answers calmly.

“Are you sure? He seemed pretty upset.” Yoongi’s eyes shift left to right as he nervously chews and pulls at his thumb hangnail, he’s doing it so compulsively it could draw blood at any moment.

“Hyung, stop that.” Jeongguk grabs his wrist and makes Yoongi lower his hand, letting it go when it’s safely placed back on the table, away from Yoongi’s panicky bites.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. You made a joke and it was funny…it’s just…em..” He continues, scratching his head and a hint of blush on his cheeks. He is picking his brain to find the right words to explain himself, when Hoseok chimes in, unbothered and more straight forward than ever because of the alcohol in his veins.

“It was too sexual!”

“Oh!” Yoongi’s eyes widen in realization; he leans forward and speaks in a lower tone of voice.

“You should have warned me he was a little bit of a prude!”

It’s Namjoon who spits his drink this time, the other two in front of Yoongi snort, trying not to laugh.

“Seokjin? A prude?” Namjoon’s question is rhetorical and comes with a you-can’t-be-serious tone to it.

“Then what? Why did he--?”

“Why do you think? If you are so worried about it, go fucking ask him!” Hoseok throws his hands up in the air, exasperated with Yoongi’s obliviousness.

“I fucking might!” Yoongi replies, challenging. He stands up quickly, shoulders pushed back and chest puffed out, marching decisively towards where Seokjin is wallowing in front of the jukebox.

His determination, and resolution, and his courage, they all gradually move to the background of his mind the more he approaches Seokjin, as he runs his eyes across the monstrous wideness of his shoulders, and down the length of his back; his plain white t-shirt nicely tucked in inside his jeans, those mother fucking ripped skinny jeans, accentuating just how narrow his waist is and of course, an hourglass figure like that has to come with wide, round hips; the long legs is just The Universe being greedy, because, how can a man be built like that?

As his legs keep moving forward on their own, his subconscious attacks him with fantasies about wrapping his arms around that tiny stupid waist, about running his hands across his chest and kissing his back, he shuts his eyes and shakes his head to snap out of it, only for that fantasy to be replaced with another nastier one, he snaps out of that one too, yet the same thing happens again and again; a new lewd intrusive thought hits him every time he gets rid of the one he’s having, until he finds himself standing next to Seokjin.

Seokjin is too busy bumping his head on the jukebox, asking himself what’s wrong with him, to notice Yoongi’s presence immediately.

“If you had problems picking a song, you could have asked any of us for help” Yoongi’s deep, soft voice comes as a surprise to Seokjin, who yelps scared, shaking his arms in front of him with his hands in fists, a bonus scaredy-cat reaction. Yoongi has no idea where he got the courage and the mental clarity to talk to him so confidently.

“Aiiish!! Where the fuck did you come from?!”

Yoongi laughs with that cotton candy-smile Seokjin already likes so much. It’s just a smile, right? He also likes Jeongguk’s bunny-smile, and Hoseok’s heart-smile, and Taehyung’s boxy-smile, and Jimin’s horizontal-smile and Namjoon’s dimpled-smile; so, what’s different about liking his new friend’s smile, too? If he is honest with himself, it would be that it makes his heart claw violently against his ribcage, his stomach tighten and that he would give everything he has to be the reason that smile appears across Yoongi’s dumpling face, but he is not ready to be honest with himself.

“I came from Daegu a few months ago” Yoongi jokes, yet his face is serious when he answers with his head slightly tilted to one side.

Seokjin puffs an airy deep laugh, somehow feeling much more relaxed, now.

“But seriously, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just like you said: I’m having trouble picking something.” Lies, complete and utter lies. He wasn’t even looking at the plentiful and varied selection of music the modest jukebox carries.

“Well, I’m here now” This time Yoongi smiles differently, a reassuring smile with a little nod, not as sweet as the cotton candy one, but no less endearing to Seokjin, nevertheless.

Seokjin slides to his right to make room for Yoongi next to him in front of the jukebox; they manage to squeeze in front of it, their shoulders flushed tight against each other’s and the pressure feels nice, comfortable, even familiar in a way.

Neither of them moves.

Yoongi lowers a hand to press the button that turns the pages of the catalogue and Seokjin reaches for it at the same time.

Neither of them removes it frightened like before.

Yoongi can feel Seokjin’s heavy hand on top of his own and the pronounced bumps of his fingers just for a few short seconds before Seokjin slowly sliding it away, the slight brush of the tip of Seokjin’s fingers causing a faint tickle on the back of Yoongi’s hand from his knuckles to his wrist. Seokjin allows himself to feel the rough skin of Yoongi’s hairy knuckles and the pronounced veins on the back of his hand.

Neither of them remembers how to breathe.

In silence, they begin to flip through the catalogue; their eyes might be fixed on the screen, but the proximity of their faces distracts them from actually paying attention to the list of songs in it. Unknowingly, they take turns glancing at each other, trying to not dwell for too long on the other’s features, a difficult task when Yoongi’s parted lips are begging to be kissed, and Seokjin has the most captivating set of brown eyes with those thick eyebrows frowning in concentration.

“What about this one?” Seokjin points to a song from a British band, he recognizes the cover of the album instinctively, it’s something he likes, a passionate tune with pretty words, but not enough to convince Yoongi who, after a flip or two, finds something he likes, and in the same manner Seokjin doesn’t agree with it.

After a minute or two of flipping through a seemingly endless list of songs, is clear how different their music tastes are: Seokjin suggests mostly indie pop-rock tunes, while Yoongi’s options are all aggressive rap ones and it seems like they will never make up their minds, when, suddenly, their eyes widen and glimmer in excitement without the other one noticing.

“How about this one?!” they exclaim in unison and Seokjin doesn’t hesitate in inserting a five hundred won coin to pay for the song. Yoongi presses the button, an over-joyed squeak, that can barely be even considered human, comes out of his mouth, more excited for having found a song the both of them agree on, than for the song itself.

Violins and other string instruments begin to play so dramatically, it's a bit difficult to take the melody seriously.

Seokjin steps back, winks at his three friends watching from their table, as he watches them raise their glasses to him.

He takes a deep breath with eyes closed, and clears his throat.

The man in the jukebox starts to sing, to rap actually, and surprisingly for Yoongi, Seokjin begins to rap along with him. The immediate, excited uproar coming from the other guys at their table add up to Yoongi’s surprise.

Seokjin is no rapper, he knows this, but he performs as best as his abilities allow him, with all of the heart, determination, passion and all the theatrics he can think of just for laughs. He’s done this so many times, it’s basically become his party trick.

One thing is him knowing the words, being a skill full rapper is a totally different one, and he doesn’t care as long as it makes people laugh, as long as it’s making Yoongi laugh.

Yoongi is a handful of smiles and giggles as he watches Seokjin giving it all, fighting for air; he decides to join the performance repeating, after Seokjin, the last word of every bar he utters. This encourages Seokjin to go even harder with his hand gestures and his intense stare, the smile on his face is as wide as Yoongi’s laugh is loud.

It’s a fucking sad song about fearing people and love and, at the same time, being terrified of the fate of a lonely life; about heartbreak and misery (and somehow Captain Jack Sparrow is thrown in the mix), but they sing and dance to it as if it is a celebratory song, as if they have won the mother fucking World Cup for a little country of just the two of them.

The speed of the song increases by the end of the first half, and Seokjin manages to squeeze in every single word before the musical break begins, missing a shit load of beats along the way, also missing every single fuck he had to give, if he ever had one. He triumphally spreads his arms to his sides, he tilts his head upwards with closed eyes, proud of himself.

“I’d like to see you do better” he challenges Yoongi, and if he were challenging a different person, it would be fair. He will soon find out why Yoongi scoffs and cracks his neck and fingers; why his adorable, giggly expression, turns into a smug, cocky one.

The second part of the song starts and it’s even faster, impossibly fast, actually, and Yoongi is hitting every single fucking bar perfectly, effortlessly on beat. Turns out, that he is actually really fucking good at rapping. Seokjin didn’t see that coming and his eyes widen in surprise and his mouth follows in the biggest smile his face can fit, he gives a little excited jump with his hands in tiny fists; he feels even prouder than he did before.

By the last part of the song, they are singing or rapping or whatever together, facing each other, taking turns for different parts, pointing at one another to indicate who’s turn is it.

The song ends as dramatically as it began, and The World, and all its images and sounds, slowly fade in, a reminder that there’s more people around them. The sound of clinking glasses and cutlery and the lively chatter of people, floods the place once more.

They both clear their throats, trying to regain their composure, trying to catch their breaths, trying to ignore the intense blush in the other’s cheeks. And because Seokjin is Seokjin he needs to break the tension with a joke.

“Aaah! I’m so good at this. You are okay, but I rap just like Jay-Z.” he winks at Yoongi and this one burst into his loudest chuckle yet, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his cheeks hurt.

“OH MY GOD! YOU RAP JUST LIKE JAY-Z!!”  he repeats, excited, still laughing, it’s impossible for him to wipe the smile off of his face.

He turns in the direction of the booth they were sitting in just a few minutes ago with the rest of the guys, pointing at Seokjin, he doesn’t notice the change in the latter’s expression.

“Did you hear that?! He raps just like Jay--" he cuts off mid-sentence.

“Z…” his voice only a whisper now.

Other than half empty glasses, used napkins and scattered raw beans, there’s nothing there. There’s no one there.

“Try again” Yoongi asks Seokjin, nervously patting his lips with his middle and ring finger in an open palm, sitting on a chair at a random table close to the jukebox.

“Please” he adds, looking up at Seokjin with pleading eyes, afraid he might have come out too blunt and bossy. Seokjin’s heart wrinkles like a piece of paper at the sight of Yoongi looking so vulnerable.

“I’m getting the voicemail message again, Yoongi. I’m sorry.” the other man replies, his phone still close to his ear.

“Why would he do that?” Yoongi asks to really no one, a mortified question thrown in the air just to express his confusion. Seokjin suspects the reason they left unannounced, but decides to keep it to himself, it won’t help Yoongi feel more at ease, anyway.

“He always takes me home. What am I gonna do now?” he continues as Seokjin keeps on trying to reach the rest of the guys, but he gets the same result, either they are not picking up, or he is sent straight to voice mail. Not even Taehyung and Jimin are answering. He’ll plot their murders later, but now he just wants to help Yoongi.

And poor Yoongi, his phone decided to run out of battery at some point in the evening without him noticing.

He doesn’t know what to do, he’s got reasons to be anxious, Jeongguk was his ride home and he’s gone and unreachable, his phone is out of juice and he can’t call a cab, it’s around three in the morning and catching one on the streets is going to be very difficult, not to mention expensive; he doesn’t know the neighborhood at all and neither does the city really well, so walking home is not an option either. And on top of everything, if his situation wasn’t unfortunate enough, he’s stuck with someone he just met, someone who’s not really his friend and could decide that Yoongi’s problem is only, well, Yoongi’s problem.

“Listen to me you little shit: I will kill all you when I find you. I know what you did and why and it’s not funny; better beg for my forgiveness when I see the lot of you. And, turning off your phone? How could you do this to Yoongi? That’s not how I raised you, you terrible brat from heh--" Seokjin is cut off by the beeping sound that signals his time to leave a message in Jeongguk’s voice mail is over.

He’s beyond pissed and worried for Yoongi, is one thing he didn’t want to meet him and another is to abandon him in a strange neighborhood, in a city he barely knows, to try to find his own way home.

And he doesn’t want to spend more time alone with Yoongi, he recognizes that he’s being acting weird around him all night. He doesn’t like strangers, that’s one thing, but it seems like his brain decided to make him forget how to act like a human.

The turning in his stomach is something he had never felt before when in the presence of strangers; he doesn’t remember feeling this way when he met Homophobic HoSook, or when he had his first lunch break with his co-workers when he started his new job. He doesn’t like the heaviness in his chest he’s been feeling tonight either, but most of it, he doesn’t like the way those feelings don’t really bother him at all. He just doesn’t want to have them, for he doesn’t understand them or he pretends not to; he just wants to drive home, put on his pajamas, have a good night sleep and forget this night even happened, but, he’s not that kind of person, he’s not selfish and rude and he won’t forgive himself if something bad happens to Yoongi only because he didn’t step up and help him just to avoid a few minutes of awkwardness. He takes a deep breath and speaks without thinking too much about what he’s going to say, before he can begin to regret it.

“Icantakeyouhome” he speaks so quickly and so low that Yoongi can barely understand what he said.

“Sorry, what?”  Yoongi asks, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape in confusion.

“I said, I can take you home.” he repeats, more calmly this time, but his eyes are shut and nose scrunched as if speaking those words hurt.

“How?”

“Piggy-back ride.” Seokjin replies with a shrug. Yoongi scoffs at the obvious joke, feeling a little bit more relaxed.

“I drove here, my car is parked somewhere outside.” he clarifies, taking a seat on a chair next to the one Yoongi is sitting on.

“I live a bit far from here. I don’t want to bother you. I’ll figure it out.”

“How far?”

“Goyang District.” Yoongi answers, looking away, a faint blush colours his cheeks.  

“Oh!” Seokjin replies somewhat surprised to find out where Yoongi lives. 

It is a bit far from where they are, like Yoongi said, but Seokjin is not startled by the distance as much as he is by the kind of people who usually live in that part of town: wealthy people, successful business men, influencers and even some local celebrities.

Goyang District is, also, where The Trash Goblin used to live, therefor, he’s been avoiding that part of town like the plague, and now, thinking about returning there makes him feel uncomfortable, but he made the offer and it would be rude to back down just because he’s too much of a coward, because he is scared of some high-end neighborhood, and his feelings.

The awfulness of his last breakup is not Yoongi’s fault, he realizes, neither the place’s, and it’s about time he stops avoiding the spaces he used to frequent when he was in that relationship.

And maybe it’s the alcohol still running through his veins, numbing his brain, repressing most of his inhibitions, but he has a sort of Epiphany right there and then: it doesn’t hurt anymore; it hasn’t hurt for a long time. Maybe he is ready to return to the places he loved and stopped going because it was too painful, maybe he’s ready for so much more.

“I know where that is. It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.” he stands up and looks at Yoongi with a stretched good-boy smile on his face, trying to bring some comfort to the cute boy sitting in front of him.

Yoongi smiles back, small and shy, not sure about accepting the offer, until he thinks of how his friends back in Daegu will never forgive him for saying “no” to the Hot Stranger who wants to take him home.

Seokjin regrets not bringing a jacket or a sweater with him as soon as they step outside The Cantina, it’s just him in his plain white, short sleeved crew-neck. The temperature has dropped more than a few degrees and the crisp, cold air of the night brushes against his cheeks.

A dark shade of gray tinges the night sky, the heavens rumble softly, and flickering flashes of light in the distance, breaking from behind murky clouds, announce the upcoming, inevitable change in the weather, like a broken, malfunctioning neon sign.

Namjoon was right: there’s a storm approaching.

Every star hides behind the thick, gray clouds, and the darkness is too much for the faint light of a Crescent Moon to handle, a few lamp-posts aligned along both sidewalks are doing the job of illuminating the otherwise pitch-black streets.

They must get to his car before it starts pouring, Seokjin thinks, if he doesn’t want to look like a participant in a Wet T-shirt contest, but among parked vehicles, and the wide empty spaces between some of them, as far as his eyes can tell, he can’t find his own.

“Wait…Where’s my...?” he whispers to himself, patting his chest, as if he were trying to find his car under his t-shirt, if that could help his drunken brain to answer the question correctly.

He can’t remember for the love of all things where he left his car; he must be more drunk than he thought he was, given that not even the faintest idea of where it could be crosses his mind. It must be nearby, right? They are just going to have to walk for a little while until they find it.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asks after watching the way Seokjin stopped in his tracks and is looking side to side with his hands on his hips and standing on his tip toes, apparently to get a further look of the street before them. Seokjin sighs.

“Promise not to freak out?” he asks the other man. He doesn’t dare to look at Yoongi. He’s embarrassed of his stupidity and scared of the latter’s reaction when he tells him that the ride he promised might not happen any time soon.

Yoongi is already freaking out inside, but he nods, nevertheless, not knowing what to expect.

“I can’t remember where I left the car.” Seokjin confesses and Yoongi just stares at him, deadpanned with hooded eyes, product of his drunken state or dissatisfaction towards what he thinks is Seokjin joking.

“That’s not a very funny joke.” he replies, tilting his head, blinking.

“I’m not joking. I don’t know where my car is. I’m pretty sure it’s not fa—Wait! Where are you going?!" Seokjin interrupts himself when out of nowhere Yoongi turns around and begins to walk in the opposite direction. Yoongi answers, but doesn’t turn to face him.

“If you regret your offer, you can just say it!” he sounds angry. It’s the loudest Seokjin has heard him speak all night.

“What? No, wait!” Seokjin doesn’t want Yoongi to get the wrong idea, apparently, he cares about what Yoongi thinks of him for some reason, perhaps it’s because, if he is now part of The Group, and if they are going to be friends, he gotta do things right. He doesn’t want Yoongi to think that he’s got something against him, or that he’s a cruel person, because he doesn’t, he isn’t; his friends love him and he could love him too, as a friend of course, and they would never forgive him if he did something to wrong Yoongi.

That just isn’t how he carries himself; he’d never do anything on purpose to hurt anyone, but Yoongi doesn’t know that, Yoongi doesn’t know him. He’s as much a stranger to Yoongi as Yoongi is to him; he hadn’t thought about that, he had only been thinking about himself and his own discomfort. He feels terrible; he rolls his eyes at the realization and starts chasing after Yoongi.

Seokjin walks after the other man as fast as he can, but Yoongi walks faster, he’s almost jogging when his body makes a decision for itself and his arm reaches out and grabs Yoongi by the hand, making him stop and turn around.

“That’s not it. I promise, I swear, I can’t remember on which side of the street I parked, or even if I left the car on this block or the next or around it. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I wish it really was a joke, but I have no fucking idea where could it be.” When Seokjin finishes talking, he realizes that he’s holding Yoongi’s hand close to his own chest, rubbing at the back of it with the pad of his thumb, he immediately drops it before it gets anymore uncomfortable, but part of him quietly regrets doing it.

Yoongi blinks looking up at Seokjin, trying to read him, trying to figure out if he is being honest, if he can trust him. There’s only one way to find out.

“Okay.” he says.

“I believe you.” he doesn’t sound angry anymore. He’s back to the soft and deep tone of voice he’s been using all night.

“You know, if you don’t want someone to freak out, you should really not start a sentence with <promise not to freak out> it makes people, well… freak out.”

“Yeah, I should have known.” Seokjin agrees, followed by a sigh.

There’s not much else that they can do about their situation, but to walk up and down the quiet, lonely street and around the block if they want to find Seokjin’s car in time before the storm begins.

They walk side by side, keeping distance between them, but their arms bump into each other once in a while. They nervously giggle and apologize every time it happens. Even if the silence doesn’t feel heavy around them, Seokjin can’t help but thinking that maybe he’s been rude to Yoongi by not engaging in conversation. He picks his brain trying to find something to talk about, but he doesn’t know a lot about him. He knows he’s new in town, that he writes, that he likes aggressive rap music, he also knows where he lives or at least in which district his house is.

Yoongi doesn’t seem like the rich, spoiled, entitled kind of person that usually has a place in such a high-end neighbourhood, like The Trash Goblin; and on top of that, Seokjin remembers that Yoongi mentioned, at some point in the night, that he was still trying to recover financially from moving to The City from Daegu a few months ago, so how was it possible for Yoongi to not be financially stable and yet manage to live in one of the most expensive areas of the city? It doesn’t make a lot of sense.

He decides to use the latter information as an excuse to try to start a conversation, only because he doesn’t want to seem rude, not because he is actually interested in Yoongi, of course not. Pfft!

“So…” Seokjin kills the silence after walking for some time.

“Goyang District, huh?” He continues.

“What about it?” Yoongi replies to Seokjin’s question, sounding a bit defensive, his hands tucked inside the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Forgive me if I’m too blunt, but… are you rich?” Yoongi smiles at him, not his pretty gummy smile, though, a closed melancholic one. He already knew where Seokjin’s inquiries were going. The rest of the guys asked him the same thing when they met.

“Me? Not at all. My parents? Yeah, they own a construction company back in Daegu, one of the biggest.”

“Oh, I see: they disowned you, why?” Seokjin jokes, Yoongi frowns and pouts, dropping his head.

“Not entirely disowned.” he admits with a sigh and a little smirk, leaning back against the driver’s door of a car parked nearby, arms crossed.

“I told them that I didn’t want to join the family business, that I wanted to pursue a career in editing and writing, and that I was moving here and they told me that they would stop financially supporting me.”

“Wow, they suck.” Seokjin replies, shaking his head.

“But they also said that if I was going to struggle with money from now on, the least they could do for me was to set me up in a decent neighbourhood, their words where something like: <you are our son, after all, and we love you. No son of ours is going to be living on the streets or in some shitty apartment.> and so, they bought the flat in Goyang District for me.”

“Wow, they cool” Seokjin says, nodding slowly.

“And who would be stupid enough to refuse free housing for life, right? but other than that, I’m on my own. I spent almost all of my savings in the moving and buying of furniture, because the fucking place was empty when I got there. No bed, no food, no nothing. Not even toilet paper.” Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head at the memory of him entering his new apartment, naively waiting for it to be fully furnished and grocery stocked.

Seokjin stares at him for a few seconds, Yoongi can feel the other’s eyes on him, he doesn’t feel judged, though, but the intense gaze has him feeling giddy. He has come to terms with the fact that he likes Seokjin’s eyes, maybe he likes them a little too much and Seokjin is looking at him a little too much, too.

“What?” he asks before he has to chase his pounding, crazed heart down the streets

“You are one of those, huh?” Yoongi doesn’t know what Seokjin is talking about.

“One of those what?”

“One of those Broke Millionaires/Poor Rich Kids from the American movies.” Seokjin smirks and winks at Yoongi, the latter huffs before replying.

“Shut up. I’m not. I’m not broke, for starters. I have a job that pays decent money and I’m able to make ends meet. I just live in a fancy house. I mean, free housing…what would you have done, huh? What-would-you-have-done?” he repeats the question pushing himself from the car and poking Seokjin on the chest with his sturdy index finger every time he starts a word.

Seokjin laughs loudly as he grabs Yoongi’s wrist to make him stop.

“Yaaah!! That hurts!” Seokjin exclaims, rubbing his chest with his free hand over the spot Yoongi mercilessly poked him.

Yoongi holds his breath as Seokjin holds his arm high up from his wrist, he can feel his cheeks lighting up and his lips curving in a little smirk that the other man can’t tell what it means, but it makes him let go of Yoongi.

This is about the fifth time in the night they’ve touch and, accidentally or not, everytime their skin has met, there’s the same warm sensation, the same tingling spreading all over their bodies from the point of contact.

Seokjin pins it on nothing more but the lack of physical touch he has endured for the past few weeks and on his drunkenness; the fact that Yoongi’s skin feels so warm and so soft on his, and these two last times he’s grabbed him to make him stop moving, proving how easy it could be to manhandle him, like he had suspected; have nothing to do with the way he feels.  

They begin walking down the street again, contributing to the silence that engulfs the atmosphere. It’s pretty late and most places on the block have already closed, the only sounds that can be heard is thunder coming from the sky and cars driving by from time to time.

A car passes by incredibly fast next to Yoongi, creating a tiny hurricane by his side that makes his hair ruffle and his bangs poke his eyes, he scrunches his nose in discomfort, and rearranges his hair, only for a second car to speed next to him almost immediately after, making his effort useless, and by the third time it happens, Yoongi decides to take action and slides the hood of his pullover over his head, pulling the strings so the hems of the hood circle tight around his face. Seokjin is witness to all of it and it’s an adorable image, Seokjin can’t help but smile endeared at Yoongi’s puffy, round cheeks peaking squished from inside the hood. He’s dwelling too much on them, on him, when Yoongi turns his face in Seokjin’s direction, startling him, and it’s in moments like this that Seokjin is thankful to have been blessed with the gifts of Fast Thinking and Changing the Subject.

“And what about the Soon to Be Published Author thing the guys mentioned earlier? Is that true?” Yoongi sighs in response.

“I wish. They just like to tease me like that. I don’t know if they are trying to encourage me or making fun of me.”

“Encourage.” Seokjin clarifies, glancing at Yoongi for a second, noticing that he is looking at him with a little confused frown.

“It’s something we do to hype each other up, to show support for whatever thing we might be involved with at the time, however, we deliberately blow things out of proportion, just to mess around and have a laugh. For example, if someone gets a promotion at work, we celebrate them as if they were made CEO. Or if someone is going hiking, we act as if they are going to climb Mount Fuji or something like that.”

“That’s kind of nice, I guess.”

“Very motivating, too. I remember when I started my job at the Gaming Company I currently work in. Fuck! I was so nervous, I felt like I wasn’t creative enough and didn’t deserve the job, but they all started to tease me telling me that I’d become the creator of the next Mario Bros. It made me feel good, and encouraged me to not give up. They believed in me when I didn’t, and it felt amazing.” Seokjin explains, confident in his words, but still keeping his eyes on what’s in front of him, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze.

“You work at a Gaming company? are you a game developer?”

“Yes and yeah, I guess. Junior, but yeah.”

“I thought you mentioned you were a film major.”

“I’m a double major, actually. I also have a degree in computer science and programing. Both came in handy when applying for the job.”

“Have you worked in anything I may know?”

“Well, we are not a big company, yet. It was just a start up two years ago, so we kind of only have one well-known-ish mobile game so far. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know it.” Yoongi reaches his left arm across Seokjin's middle, making him stop walking. Seokjin can feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hoodie on him through the light fabric of his white t-shirt, he can feel the pressure of his forearm, it feels comfortable and right.

“Try me. Which mobile game?” Yoongi asks, moving in front of him to face him, walking backwards, both hands once again tucked inside the front pocket of his hoodie.

Seokjin looks up, smiling, thinking about how to answer Yoongi’s question. The game he helped create is a little silly, and a lot of cute. And even if those are two things that Seokjin fiercely stands for, Silliness and Cuteness, he is aware that a lot of people believe that something with those two main characteristics isn’t worth their time. Yoongi, despite his soft voice and his shy demeanor, dresses like someone who might be into more hardcore stuff. His taste in music, or the glimpse Seokjin got of it, supports this theory.

“Are you familiar with In The Seom?” he finally reveals, a desire to impress Yoongi crosses his mind for a second, making his heart pound in his ears.

Yoongi’s eyes go twice their size and his mouth opens up wide in surprise, before covering it with a hand.

“That’s you?!” Yoongi asks, pulling down the hood from his head, visibly excited, and Seokjin shrugs in response, hands inside the pockets of his jeans, all modesty and red ears on the outside, but very pleased with himself on the inside.

“My mom plays it all the time. She has spent a lot of money on it, too.”

“Well, tell your mom I say thank you for not letting us starve.” Seokjin says with a smile and Yoongi laughs, this time he shows his pretty gummy smile in full force and the side of his eyes crinkle. A strong desire to cup Yoongi’s face in his hands invades Seokjin’s mind, he shakes his head to make it go away. How drunk is he that he is having those sorts of thoughts?

“And you? What do you do for a living if you are not in the verge of becoming a published author? Are you even writing a novel like Namjoon said?”

“It’s not a novel, it’s an anthology of sci-fi shorts stories, all of them space operas, though, that part was right. I work at an Editorial Company. I’m Assistant Editor, not the assistant of the editor; but to be honest…it is my dream to have my works published…What about you? do you have a Dream?”

Having a Dream is not something Seokjin has given too many thoughts to. He just usually goes with the flow when it comes to his life. He decided on his first major on a whim when he was eighteen, only because, back then, he was really into Westerns and Japanese cinema. And during his first year in college, he joined the Audio-Visual club after someone invited him one day and he was like Yeah, why not? There, he got involved with computers and coding, and decided that it’ll be fun, and impressive of him, to have two majors, he’d figure out what to do with them later.

Almost every decision Seokjin has made about his life has been made on a whim, and sometimes he feels like he’s been living his life wrong, that maybe if he had a dream, he’d be more successful by now.

“I don’t think I have dream.” the words escape his lips in a tone of voice that could be considered disappointed and even a little bit sad.

“That’s okay, too.” Yoongi replies with a shrug.

“What? Not having a dream?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. The fact that some people have one, doesn’t mean that those who don’t are living their life wrong. As long as you are happy and healthy and have peace of mind, everything else is a gift.”

Seokjin doesn’t know what to say or how to act after hearing Yoongi’s reply, his words are so comforting, filled with a warmth and wisdom Seokjin wasn’t expecting. Yoongi said he wasn’t living his life wrong, and for the first time he believes it.

No wonder why his friends immediately welcomed him in the group, Yoongi is kind and wise and sweet. He feels a little scared realizing that what is making him feel like his heart has dropped to where his stomach should be, is not that he’s uncomfortable, but the fact that it’s been a long time since he felt this at peace with anyone.

“You gonna keep walking backwards?” Seokjin teasingly asks Yoongi after not finding anything of value to contribute following Yoongi’s deep words.

“I seem to be very good at it, so why not?”

Seokjin scoffs at Yoongi’s smug reply.

“Cocky.” Seokjin lifts an eyebrow, and Yoongi smiles back, wiggling both of his confidently, before stumbling backwards with his own feet.

Seokjin laughs at him, loud and squeaky, and Yoongi returns to his previous position, between Seokjin’s right side and the street, with small quick steps. An intense, embarrassed flush creeps on his cheeks and bleeds down to his neck.

“You were saying…?” Seokjin asks, tongue in cheek, mocking Yoongi. The latter smiles, half embarrassed and half satisfied to have made Seokjin laugh.

“And that’s how I found out I was good at rapping” Yoongi finishes his story.

“I was fucking impressed, to be honest. Definitely that enters in the Top 5 Plot Twists of my year, so far.” Seokjin teasingly nudges at the side of Yoongi’s arm.

“I know. I’m a talented genius.” the other man says making a Flower Pose, both hands joined by their wrists to make up the shape of a V with his little face in the middle, he tilts his head making a smug kissy-face with puffed cheeks. He does it for just a second, but Seokjin is sure the image will last a lifetime in his mind.  

“Everyone is impressed the first time they hear me. I was impressed by you, too. You knew all the words. I think I know, like, two other people beside you and me who entirely knows them by heart.”

“Aaah, but they are not as awesome as me.”

Yoongi scoffs.

“Pfft, surely. You rap just like Jay-Z, right?” Yoongi mocks him and they both chuckle.

“I know I’m not actually good at it, but it makes people laugh, and that’s good enough for me.” Seokjin states simply.

“I like making people laugh, it makes me happy” he shrugs.

Seokjin doesn’t seem the type of guy who takes himself too seriously, something Yoongi hasn’t seen in people as good looking as Seokjin is. It’s something odd, unusual and the contrast intrigues him. It is well known that looks can be deceiving, Seokjin seems to confirm the rule, he feels anxious and excited to find out what else is to Seokjin beyond his good looks and his good boy image.

“Oh, so you benefit from other’s happiness?” Yoongi inquires with the intention of being little bit confrontational for his own entertainment, unaware that the alcohol in his veins has awaken his flirty, cheeky side.

“I think it’s a Win-Win situation: they use me to be happy and I get happiness in return.”

“Oh, so you enjoy being used for other’s pleasure?” Shit! Yoongi immediately regrets his words, once again he made a joke that came out way too sexual, and last time it happened, he made Seokjin uncomfortable, it wasn’t his intention then and it’s not his intention now. He tenses up, waiting for Seokjin’s reaction, he’s sure that he’s going to turn around and leave, only for the feeling of dread to be replaced with a hint of something that Yoongi can only describe as “a stirring in his guts”, when Seokjin turns his eyes at him and scans him up and down with a little mischievous smirk that reminds Yoongi of the morally ambiguous, yet attractive, characters in manhwas.

“Perhaps.” Is not much, just a word what Seokjin replies, he doesn’t seem bothered or uncomfortable, in fact, Yoongi can swear there’s a playful lewdness in the way he’s looking at him and in his voice. Yoongi tries to not make a big deal about it, he made a joke with a sexual connotation, so it’s only logical that he gets a similar retort, yet he loves the idea of being able to wake up Seokjin’s most basic instincts with the things he says.

“No, but really…” Seokjin continues.

“I think there’s no bigger happiness than being able to make the ones around you happy, even if it’s for a moment. Even if I have to make myself a fool to crack a smile from someone when they are having a bad day.”

“That’s… actually really sweet.” Yoongi says. The more he spends time chatting with Seokjin, the more he thinks he’s not only hot, but charming and kind and particularly selfless.

“Do you have any other Especial Skills? Besides rapping?” Seokjin asks. Yoongi stops to think about it for a few seconds, and can only think about one thing, his own party trick of sorts.

“I don’t know if it counts as an Especial Skill, but…I can do this:” and out of nowhere Yoongi lifts the bottom of his hoodie, and the black shirt he’s wearing underneath, up to the lower part of his chest, just enough to reveal his tummy.

Seokjin hopes Yoongi doesn’t notice his widening eyes at the sight of his midriff skin, his soft-looking, pale midriff skin; at the cuteness of his small belly-button and the little moles and freckles that grace his torso like constellations; at the enticing trail of fuzzy black hair that shamelessly invites Seokjin’s lips to follow it down and inside his pants. His heart is banging at his tightened chest and his breathing hitches for a second before he starts laughing hysterically at Yoongi moving his tummy back and forth in a wave-like motion.

If Seokjin had been drinking something, he would have spit it out in laughter. He is laughing so hard his body bends in half and his ribs on one side hurt. Yoongi pulls down his clothes again and covers his face with hands as blushed pink as his cheeks, before Seokjin finally manages to stand up straight again and gradually stops laughing.

Eventually, after searching at least two times for Seokjin’s car on the same street, they decide it’s time to turn around the corner and continue their search on the next one.

It’s been a few minutes since they turned around the block, Seokjin’s car is still nowhere in sight, but Yoongi recognizes where they are walking: it’s the street where a little-known flea market sets its stalls every weekend along an alley covered by a hard plastic canopy with the inside painted to resemble a starry night sky. He lets Seokjin know about this, but the latter has no idea what Yoongi’s talking about, he’s no more familiar with this part of town than Yoongi is, he just knows that they need to find his car soon, for the rumbling of the thunder sounds louder and closer with every passing minute, the sky got somehow darker and the electricity of the lighting is palpable in the air.

They’ve been lucky so far, but they really need to hurry before their luck runs out, before the rain catches up with them; it’s inevitable and sad that they have to, they are enjoying each other’s company more and more with every step they take.

They have been walking for at least an hour since they left The Cantina, maybe even more, they can’t really tell and it’s not like they’ve been paying attention to the passing of time when the conversation has turned so engaging, so casual… so random.

“Nah, I don’t think so…” Yoongi says scanning Seokjin, walking at his left side, up and down with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Really? You need to look closer, then. The long neck, bread cheeks? no? nothing? most people say it’s something about my lips and nose what makes me look like an alpaca, or a hamster…that one minus the long neck, though.”

“I think, if you were an animal hybrid, you’d be something like…” Yoongi pauses, narrowing his eyes, tracing Seokjin’s features with them, fighting against his tongue begging him to dart out and lick his lips, fighting his own eyes going back to stare at Seokjin’s every two seconds.

A deep, soft humming sound comes out of Yoongi’s throat as he thinks about it, and it makes Seokjin’s chest vibrate and every inch of his body shiver, the stupid sound is so alluring, he feels the need of leaning on Yoongi’s chest and listen to it until he falls asleep.

“Like a fox. No! a wolf, yes!”

“A wolf? that’s a first…why? how??” Seokjin asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Wolves are dangerous and wild and hot; Yoongi thinks to himself.

Those are basically the main reasons he relates Seokjin to wolves, but he can’t say that to him, not without risking Seokjin thinking that he is weird and a furry. He could take the furry part; if he’s honest with himself, he kinda is, but he’s tired of being thought of as weird, he has scared off a bit too many partners for being “too weird”, he really doesn’t want to drive Seokjin away, he wants him to think he is normal and cool, so he settles for the next thing that makes him relate Seokjin to wolves.

“The shape of your face, for starters, it’s long with a pointy chin, very manly, yet not aggressive, but mostly I think it’s the eyes, chico: you have these intense, almond eyes, and thick eyebrows in a perpetual frown, you look at things intensely, focused, like you are studying them, hunting for details and that makes you a bit intimidating, like a wolf.” He ends with a shrug. He knows he is still drunk because his argument came out way more honest than he thought it would, and maybe it was even a little weird of him, but he couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t lie.

Seokjin’s ears have gone burning red and his cheeks hurt from smiling. He’s always been confident about his looks, but what Yoongi just said about him, about his eyes and such, fuck, he can’t even find a way to begin to explain what Yoongi’s words made him feel. What just Yoongi’s existence is making him feel the more he spends time with him.

He is invaded by this feeling of wanting, of yearning for something, he knows pretty well what he yearns for, but giving into it, is admitting he was wrong and he is stubborn like that.

“I’d be a cat.” Yoongi states convinced, no hesitation in his deep voice, taking Seokjin out of his thoughts.

 “A cat, really? I don’t know.” Seokjin replies, now he is the one scanning the other’s features, head tilted to one side, one hand rubbing his chin.

“What? You don’t see it?” Yoongi asks, turning his upper body to face Seokjin, placing two upside-down peace sings on top of his head to make it look like he’s got cat ears.

But all Seokjin can see is him, he can truly see Yoongi and all the subtle details of his pretty heart-shaped face: He sees the contrast between his piercing eyes and his long fluttering eyelashes, he sees the way the light hits perfectly over the bridge of his adorable button nose, on his high, sharp cheekbones and round, soft cheeks, giving the impression that he glows from the inside out; and lastly, he sees the lovely cat-like curl at the corners of his mouth.

He’s beautiful, Seokjin thinks.

He wants to tell him; he knows he should forget about his stubbornness, about his pride, and just tell him that he thinks he’s fucking gorgeous, that he wants to kiss him and make love to him ‘till dawn, but instead he just chuckles endeared and says:

“Okay, I see it” and slowly nods in agreement.

“Thanks!” Yoongi replies, blushing when his eyes encounter Seokjin’s, immediately turning them to look to the front, unable to resist the look the other man sends his way, a look he hadn’t seen tonight, a look that makes him nervous and long to climb him like a tree.

He keeps his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie, afraid of reaching for Seokjin’s hand if he doesn’t hide them.

And the silence falls between them one more time, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable or strange at all. The company is nice, and even if the weather could be more welcoming, the atmosphere is almost romantic, Yoongi can’t help thinking: an empty sidewalk all to themselves, a perfect balance between shadows and lights, the puddles of water, resting by the edge between the sidewalk and the street, reflecting the lights from the lamp posts making them look like a painting of the heavens in a much clearer night.

Seokjin is so charming and fun to talk to. Yoongi feels happy to have made such a nice new friend, because that’s all they are going to be, after all, that’s all they want from each other, don’t they? He is not so sure about that, anymore, and he doesn’t want to make a move if Seokjin’s not up for it.      

“Seokjin-ssi…” he ventures.

“It’s okay if you call me hyung.” The smile on Seokjin’s face is comforting and sweet, he looks like such a good boy.

“Hyung.” he repeats with little nods and a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his heart jumps from happiness inside his chest. This is a good sign, it means that Seokjin feels comfortable with him, too.

“I, I think I know why the guys took off like that…” he shyly begins to tip-toe around the situation, he can feel Seokjin’s eyes on him, but he can’t keep his from staring down at his shoes and the way a bright light shines on them, creating strange moving shadows.

He can’t hear anything but the pounding of his own heart in his ears, his own voice sounds muffled to him when he continues speaking.

“I think they were trying to make us--” the light gets brighter, forcing him to look up to try to find the source, but all he sees is blinding white.

Suddenly, he feels something hard pulling him from his right shoulder and his world turns around on its axis, making him shut his eyes scared and confused and to grit his teeth. Every sound is replaced by a deafening ringing.

His sense of hearing returns like a slap in the face thanks to the angry honking of a car’s horn, followed by a splashing sound; but it’s Seokjin’s holler what makes him open his eyes and realize that he’s now not only standing on the opposite side of the walkway, but inside Seokjin’s arms, his own forearms pressed against the other’s chest, his own hands clutched tight around the fabric of the other’s shirt as if his life depended on it.

“Aiish, fuck! Goddamn it!” Seokjin screams, arching his back, tightening his hold on Yoongi, pressing him closer to his chest for a second before letting him go.

“What the hell just happened?!!” Yoongi asks, rightfully startled.

“That fucking car was zig-zagging like crazy, I thought it was gonna climb the sidewalk and run you over, but thankfully it just drove right on top of a puddle and I didn’t think this through, because now my back is fucking soaked and it’s freezing out here. Shit, I’m gonna catch a fucking cold, for fuck’s sake. Are you alright, by the way?”

“I am, thank you, but what about you?”

“Besides the soaked, cold back. I’m doing fantastic. Shit, I’m gonna get fucking sick.” Seokjin complains, unsticking his wet shirt from his back.

Without thinking too much, Yoongi pulls off his hoodie, and Seokjin freezes in his place when he sees Yoongi taking off his clothes unprovoked and out of nowhere, he can’t help but stand there, gawking like an idiot at the sight of Yoongi’s black undershirt riding up just enough to show his cute belly-button. It’s nothing he hadn’t seen before, he saw it earlier when Yoongi showed him his party-trick, but he wasn’t expecting to see it again this soon.

“Here, put this on.” Yoongi offers, handing his hoodie to Seokjin and fixing his shirt with his free hand.

"Are you sure about that?" Seokjin is surely freezing, but he doesn't know if it's the right thing to do, if he takes it, then Yoongi will be cold.

"Yeah, I don't mind the cold. Besides, is the least I can do after you were so willing to sacrifice yourself for me." It's a joke, but Seokjin knows every joke carries a hint of truth.

It takes a few seconds for Seokjin to hesitantly take it and put it on. It fits him snuggly and well, it’s not oversized on him like it is on Yoongi, it accentuates his broad shoulders and falls around his hips just right.

The soft hoodie still keeps some of Yoongi’s smell and warmth in it, Seokjin can feel it all over his body, it’s a wonderful sensation, sadly it goes away too soon; it’s not enough for him, he needs more of that warmth, more of that scent, and he wants to feel it from the source. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to take not only air to breath, but the courage he’s been needing for the past hour or so, before taking a few steps closer to Yoongi, until he is just mere inches away from him.

The height difference between them, may not be abysmal, but is enough to make Yoongi tilt his head upwards to meet Seokjin’s eyes, enough to make him feel small and vulnerable. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do, he just stands still staring into Seokjin’s wild eyes. He tries to look away, but he can’t, he doesn’t want to. He wants to keep looking into the eyes that have been driving him crazy the whole night.  

Seokjin’s tongue darts out and wets his lips, his throat feels terribly dry. He swallows hard nervously before reaching towards Yoongi and placing a hand over his chest.

“These are cute.” Seokjin says, voice velvety and deep, eyebrows moving up, fiddling between his crooked fingers the, at least five, layered necklaces made up of strings of pearls of several sizes that hang around Yoongi’s neck and down to his chest.

Yoongi tries to say something, but the feeling of Seokjin’s trembling hand slowly sliding up from his chest, makes him forget how to use words; his chest heaves up and down quickly as he also forgets how to use his lungs.

Seokjin’s hand finally cups Yoongi’s face, and Yoongi can feel it shaking against his cheek, he wonders if Seokjin can tell that he is shaking too, he hopes he does, he hopes Seokjin can tell how much he wants him.  

This is it; Yoongi thinks as Seokjin pushes him forward from his grasp on the back of his neck.

“Yoongi, can I-?” Seokjin asks him as he slowly traces Yoongi’s upper lip with his thumb.

Yoongi can feel Seokjin’s warm breath over his mouth, he can even taste the sweet, musky scent of his perfume. He doesn’t need for Seokjin to finish his question, it’s clear they have the same thing in mind.

“Yes, yes!” Yoongi whispers, closing his eyes and placing his hands on Seokjin’s belt buckle, pulling him closer.

And soon enough, he can feel Seokjin’s face getting closer, he can feel his own dick twitching inside his pants, his hands shaking and clutching tighter around Seokjin’s belt buckle, and he can feel a cold, wet something landing on his face, followed by another one, and another one, and another one; then, loud thunder strikes from the sky and, right on cue, the heaviest of rains begins downpouring violently on them.

“No, no!” Yoongi whines, his eyes opening immediately, he quickly lets go of Seokjin, and pushes him away from him before taking off running under the heavy rain.

“I hate getting wet!” he shouts as Seokjin follows after him laughing, amused and surprised by Yoongi’s reaction. He increases his pace enough to catch up with Yoongi and grabs him by the wrist to try to stop him, but it’s useless.

“Yoongi, slow down! We can out run rain!” Seokjin tries to reason with Yoongi, to no avail, as he is basically dragged down the street without really having somewhere to go. Then, Yoongi remembers the alleyway with the starry canopy he mentioned to Seokjin earlier, the one that is home to the flea market that opens on weekends, he has a feeling that it’s not far away and begins to run even faster.

“The canopy, the market!” he says, turning his head back to look at Seokjin, who can only look at him confused among the droplets of water hanging from his lashes. He’s trying to make up something of what Yoongi is saying when this one disappears from his line of vision.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?” Seokjin asks calmly, looking down at poor Yoongi, who has slipped and fallen to the ground, immobile on his hands and knees, face down in embarrassment.

 “This is not a good time to pray.” Seokjin jokes, giving his hand in help for Yoongi to get up.

“Water makes you humble.” Yoongi jokes back, grabbing on to Seokjin’s forearm for support to get back on his feet. Seokjin scoffs, delighted by Yoongi’s ability to make fun of himself after falling so unceremoniously, Seokjin himself would be embarrassed until next century, but Yoongi, Yoongi is making jokes.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt anywhere?” Seokjin asks him, grabbing him by the shoulders, inspecting his features as best as the rain allows him.

“Besides my ego? I don’t think so, I’m fine.” he smiles briefly before turning his eyes to the ground, blushing embarrassed. He can feel a sting in the palm of his hands, and the bruises already creeping up his knees, but he doesn’t want to say anything, he doesn’t want to worry Seokjin more than he should. He can take it, it’s not like he is bleeding to death or anything.

 “Alright, no more running. We are already soaked, there’s nothing we can do about it.” Seokjin pleads, smiling, moving Yoongi’s wet bangs away from his face, arranging his dainty necklaces that got all tangled up in his fall, thinking about how pretty Yoongi looks under the rain.

“Let’s go. Slowly this time.” he adds and offers his arm to Yoongi to help him walk, since he’s limping a little bit.

As they walk under the rain, Yoongi can’t help but replay the Almost Kiss with Seokjin in his mind over and over. He was so stupid, he acted by instinct, he knows that he shouldn’t have run, that he shouldn’t have let himself be startled by just a bit of water.

He got wet regardless, and now, thanks to his stupidity, he’s not only wet, but kissless; now he’s not only wet and kissless, but his knees and hands are scraped; now he’s not only wet and kissless and maimed, but he doesn’t know if he’ll get another chance to kiss Seokjin, maybe The Moment’s gone, maybe The Mood is ruined or worse: maybe Seokjin is relieved he didn’t kiss someone as ridiculous as him.

He’s thinking about the worst-case scenario when his surroundings start to look familiar, he recognizes the brick walls of the buildings, the names of the cafés and the stores along the block and, not too far away, he spots the two outdoor wall lanterns that flank the entrance to the alleyway with the starry canopy shinning bright among the darkness of the street like a lighthouse at sea.

His heart begins pounding in excitement, hopeful at the promise of shelter, at the promise of getting slightly dry or at least not wetter, at the promise of waiting for the rain to pass in Seokjin’s company, at the promise of another chance at kissing him.

Fuck it! He thinks and increases his pace again, letting go of Seokjin’s arm and grabbing his hand, fingers intertwining instinctively, immediately, like it’s the only thing they could do; naturally, as if they have been doing just that for a really long time.

Yoongi’s speed gradually rises until he’s running again and Seokjin has no other choice but to do the same, letting himself be dragged behind Yoongi, holding tightly to his hand, trusting him, for he doesn’t know where he’s being taken.

Before Seokjin can even realize Yoongi has stopped running, and that the rain isn’t pouring down on him anymore, he feels a strong tug at his arm, followed by rough, cold hands grabbing the sides of his face, pulling him down, and soft, warm lips pushing against his; Seokjin pushes back decisively, opening his mouth, angling his head to welcome Yoongi’s tongue better inside to massage his own, to swirl around each other, tasting the sweet flavour of the alcohol they had been drinking mere hours ago.

Tomorrow morning, the dark, damp alley will welcome the usual hustle and bustle of the weekend; it will turn into the place where second-hand items, antique furniture, and used books are brought to find another chance at being loved after being discarded, but right now it’s a shelter, a shelter where two lonely, heartbroken men have become unexpected lovers against their pride, against their stubbornness and against all odds, the same way it greets good neighbors, snooping passersby, curious shoppers, inquisitive collectors and anyone willing to take home things they never knew they needed.

They are finally safe and sound as the rainstorm keeps breaking havoc in the skies and on the streets, as thunder and lightning are the only witnesses to the overflowing desire between them, as the night swallows them whole.  

Seokjin wraps his hands at the sides of Yoongi’s waist, the latter’s hands tighten his grasp around Seokjin’s hair and lets himself be walked backwards until he’s flat against the cold, wet wall of the alley. Once there, Yoongi backs away from the kiss to catch his breath, but Seokjin follows him forward almost immediately, forbidding their lips to be apart for too long, keeping Yoongi from getting too much of the precious air he so desperately needs.

Yoongi is starting to feel dizzy and overwhelmed, and he is not sure if it’s due to the lack of air from making out with Seokjin messily and non-stop, or because of how the pressure of Seokjin’s body on his has him feeling so small and wanted, or thanks to the rush of blood that has gone from his head to his already pulsating member. Whichever it is, or if it’s all of the above, he needs to catch his breath soon or he’ll pass out.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Yoongi tells him, pushing Seokjin back with a hand on his chest. He can feel Seokjin’s heartbeat banging against his palm like a wild drum.

“What’s wrong? do you feel okay?” Seokjin asks him worriedly, taking a step back from Yoongi to give him space.

“Yeah, I just…” he tries to talk as his own chest heaves up and down, as he tries to steady his heavy breathing, head turned to the side, unable to look at Seokjin in the eye. He feels flustered and lightheaded, making out with more than a few drinks on him always makes him feel that way.

“I feel a little woozy, that’s all. Just give me a minute.” he chuckles, moving his hand up to settle it on Seokjin’s chest again.

Seokjin smiles at him endeared, he can’t keep his eyes away from Yoongi’s mouth, he wants to kiss him until the rain is gone and the sun is out, and then some more. He can wait a little, tough, it’s alright, Yoongi only needs to recover his breath before they can continue, or maybe Yoongi doesn’t want to continue, maybe he’s changed his mind, and that would be okay, too, but terribly unfortunate for him.

Seokjin takes the hand Yoongi’s got on his chest and moves it up to his lips to kiss the palm, right on the place where the skin peeled off when he fell, eyes fixed on the pretty silhouette of Yoongi’s profile. The latter tenses at the unexpected feeling of wet lips on his skin, the brush of them stings a bit on his little open wound, but it doesn’t make it any less comforting. He keeps his head turned to one side, avoiding Seokjin’s gaze, he’s surprised at how much he wants him, how much he ended up liking him. He can’t remember the last time he liked someone this much, or hooked-up with someone this handsome and charming.

“We can stop if you want.” Seokjin says, now holding Yoongi’s hand against his own cheek, head leaning into the feeling with eyes closed. His other hand slowly moves up the length of Yoongi’s arm, from his forearm to his bicep and inside the short sleeve of his t-shirt, to gently squeeze his shoulder and back down again, repeating the leisurely motion over and over. If this is the last time he’ll be touching Yoongi, he wants to make it count, he wants to remember how his skin feels, until he gets another chance, if he ever gets one again.

Yoongi turns to look at him with big puppy eyes, Seokjin’s touch has him fighting for his sanity, yet his voice is stern and sure when he speaks.

“I don’t want to stop.”

Seokjin smiles at him pleased and cups Yoongi’s little face in his hands, lifting it upwards, Yoongi closes his eyes and opens his mouth, ready to welcome the other’s lips on his.

And this time the kiss is not rushed and desperate when the distance between them closes. Seokjin leads slowly and tenderly, with the sole intention of having them both take in every single second they are able to taste each other. Yoongi can feel a tingle in his navel at the same time Seokjin’s soft lips glide over his and their tongues meet halfway.

He gently wraps each of his hands around Seokjin’s wrists to try to quench his need for his touch, but he quickly learns that it’s not enough just to hold Seokjin’s wrist, not enough to touch his hands; slowly, Yoongi slides his own from Seokjin’s wrists to his forearms, up his biceps, down his back, and finally under his shirt, making Seokjin shiver and press Yoongi’s face closer to him from the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, making it gain speed, become more intense. His other hand twisting its grasp around Yoongi’s damp shirt.

Cold, wet hands stroke Seokjin’s back with open palms, his skin breaking out with goose-bumps, small, discreet moans coming out of his mouth every time Yoongi’s hands squeeze the flesh there.

Yoongi can feel Seokjin smiling into the kiss right before throwing himself on Yoongi, with what Yoongi is sure is Seokjin’s whole weight, trapping him between the bricked wall and his body, pushing him further against it, and it’s amazing to feel Seokjin so close to him, to feel him grind on him, to feel his chest heaving, gasping for air and his hot breath on his neck. Yoongi is lost in every sensation Seokjin is making him feel, in the softness of his skin under his palms, in the sounds he makes against his ear everytime the hard bulge between Seokjin’s legs rubs against his similar one, but for Yoongi is still not enough, he needs to know how the rest of Seokjin’s body feels.

Just a little bit longer and he is going to lose his mind, Seokjin thinks, as an overwhelming heatwave wraps all around him despite how cold the night is, he is trying so hard to control himself, what he does and where he puts his hands, but he’s reached the point where he doesn’t know for how long he’ll be able to do it.

This is a first time for him, making out with a stranger in a public open space, and he would usually stop himself before being caught in this type of situation, but there is something about Yoongi, something about how good it feels to have him in his arms, about how well Yoongi fits between his open legs, about the way Yoongi squeezes at his sides under his clothes and his nails dig a little, that has him not giving a single fuck about what he does or where he does it.

He can’t pin this on the alcohol he consumed tonight, he’s not even that wasted to not be able to tell what’s wise or not, he knows this isn’t, yet he doesn’t care. All he cares about right now, is feeding the part of him that craves for the entirety of Yoongi’s being.

Seokjin slides his hands down Yoongi’s middle and sets them on his hips, index and middle fingers hooked on the belt loops at its sides and his thumbs inevitably press on the skin of his belly, given the way his t-shirt rides up when he lifts his arms to wrap them around the back of Seokjin’s neck, making Yoongi arch his back and push his ass up when he feels the pad of Seokjin’s thumbs tickle his skin, and then, he chuckles against Seokjin’s lips.

“What’s so funny?” Seokjin asks, breaking the kiss, squeezing Yoongi’s jaw, and resuming before Yoongi can say anything.

“Nothing…I just…” Yoongi tries to speak, but is cut off by the little unexpected moan that comes out of him when Seokjin slowly drags his teeth along his bottom lip, interrupting him again.

“You just, what? I didn’t get it.” he teasingly asks as he lowers his head to press his mouth against Yoongi’s neck, eliciting another little moan out of him; he’s enjoying the way Yoongi melts everytime he does something to interrupt him, it’s so amusing to see him trying to catch his breath and feel his hands clutch tighter at whatever part of him they are clinging to at the moment.

“I had a thought, but…it doesn’t matter.” Yoongi replies, short of breath, his fingers woven around the hair at Seokjin’s nape, as this one nibbles at his neck. Then Seokjin’s tongue travels along Yoongi’s neck from its base to his chin and inside his mouth again in an unexpected, stolen kiss, to which Yoongi has no other choice but to give into, as if it could be possible for Yoongi to even begin to try to deny himself of the pleasure that is feeling Seokjin’s plump lips on his.

“What is it?” Seokjin insists, pulling back from Yoongi again, leaving him open-mouthed with his tongue slightly out.   

“I was…” He abruptly pauses and quickly reaches forward to grab Seokjin by the jaw, stopping him from interrupting again, keeping Seokjin still just mere inches away from his face. Yoongi is not even sure if he should say what’s on his mind, but he’s gotten tired of Seokjin teasing him and not letting him speak.

 “I was thinking that…” He blushes and takes a deep breath and then he just lets his thoughts blurt out of his mouth without thinking too much about what he is actually saying or about how Seokjin would react to the kind of thoughts that cross his mind.

“If I… If I really were a cat-hybrid, I would have immediately turned around and shown you my butt-hole the moment I saw you.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen in surprise and then he shakes his head, freeing himself from the hold Yoongi’s got on his jaw, he looks at him with a frown on his face and an expression that Yoongi can’t tell what it means, but his heart sinks when Seokjin finally says something.

“You are a little weird, aren’t you?”

No, not again, not him, not this one, Yoongi thinks. He’s stunned, he doesn’t know how to react, what to say, he’s so done with being called weird, he’s so done with fucking things up because of the things he says, the way he thinks, and he is so fucking done with Seokjin already.

“Excuse me?” he exclaims annoyed, ready to tell Seokjin to fuck off, until Seokjin leans in closer to him.

”I like it weird.” he whispers in his ear and moves back.

In that very moment, lighting strikes and illuminates the dark alley, allowing Yoongi to clearly see the smirk on Seokjin’s face and the desire in his eyes, eyes fixed on Yoongi’s with blown out pupils, like a mad man.

And Yoongi’s chest fills with excitement and something akin to pride, something that makes him pounce into Seokjin’s arms, pulling him from his hoodie, Yoongi’s hoodie, standing on his tip toes to kiss him as hard as he can. Now is Seokjin who is gasping for air while he struggles to keep up with Yoongi’s intensity, while the latter tries to swallow him complete.

“I want you, Seokjinnie-hyung.” Yoongi mewls, their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed with a frown, his lips too close to Seokjin’s, he speaks with what sounds like his last breath.

“You want me?” Seokjin replies, tauntingly, shit-eating grin across his face, but eyes filled with excitement and anticipation at the confession and the endearing way Yoongi called him.

Yoongi hums and nods affirmatively, still pulling Seokjin close to him from the collar of the borrowed hoodie. He doesn’t want to just keep on kissing Seokjin, he wants to touch him, touch him more and in more places, all places; and he wants to be touched, and caressed all over his body with firm hands and gentle lips; and he wants to feel full and wanted and wrecked to the brink of Death.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me so badly.” He sounds so vulnerable and so horny and already so ruined, no wonder why Seokjin giggles.

“Who do you take me for, baby?” Seokjin asks him, eyes fixed on him, as he traces Yoongi’s cheek with the back of his hand, before lifting Yoongi’s face from his chin between his index and thumb.

“I’m not that kind of guy. I don’t fuck on the first date.”

“Good thing this is not a date, right?” Yoongi replies, voice hanging by a fragile thread, yet confidently; looking at Seokjin with hooded eyes and a smug grin, bucking his hips up to make him feel how hard he’s got him.

The arrogant expression on Seokjin’s face disappears and is replaced with a startled look in his eyes, he takes his hands off of Yoongi and steps back from him, he eyes him up and down wetting his lips, his heart beating so suffocatingly hard against his chest it hurts, and then, out of nowhere and without saying anything, takes off running into the storm.

He’s fucking soaked again in less than a second, and he can barely see anything under the heavy rain that falls hard on him like being shot non-stop with a paintball gun, he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up bruised all over, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it as he runs in the direction of the first car he sees and desperately pulls at the handle of one of its rear doors to try and open it, miserably failing in doing so. Yoongi just watches him intrigued from inside the alleyway, still sheltered from the rain. He makes no sense whatsoever of Seokjin’s actions.

Again, he tries and again, the handle of another random parked car won’t budge, Seokjin looks around as if he is being chased by the Devil himself; uselessly wipes the water out of his face and keeps looking, searching for only he knows what, pushing his wet hair from his eyes, spitting the rain that leaks from his face and manages to reach his mouth.

Again, for the third time, he runs towards another car and tries, and just like with his past attempts, he fails and by the fourth time he does it, Yoongi loses his patience.

“What the hell are you doing?!! Are you fucking crazy?!!” he shouts from the safety of the roofed alley, arms crossed over his chest and hands rubbing his arms to warm himself up, without Seokjin’s hands on him and nothing to shield him, the cold of the night embraces him mercilessly.

He feels the need to run after Seokjin and pull him back to safety, to where it’s dry, but it is so freaking cold out there, he doesn’t dare to step into the rain not even for a second, so he calls him again.

“You are going to get fucking sick. Come on, get back he--"

“No!” Seokjin interrupts him, screaming desperation in his voice, he turns around to face Yoongi, trembling head to toes from the cold, water dripping down his face, hair matted to his forehead, droplets hanging from his lashes blurring his vision, ears and cheeks red; it feels as if his heart’s being crushed under a million boulders, he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, in his throat.

“One of these things has to be open! needs to be open so I can fuck you right now!” he adds, pointing in the direction of the line of parked cars along the sidewalk. He only looks directly at Yoongi for a second, and then turns around again to run towards another car, to desperately pull at the handle.

Yoongi perks up at the sound of Seokjin’s words, and without thinking, he follows Seokjin in to the rain and just like him, he starts urgently pulling at the handles of the cars Seokjin hasn’t tried with, until the rear door of one opens up and the alarm doesn’t go off.

“Here!” Yoongi shouts and wastes no time getting inside, sliding all the way in on the back seat, until he is sitting against the door on the opposite side.

Seokjin lets go from the handle he’s pulling at in that moment, and runs as fast as he can to where he heard Yoongi’s voice coming from.

He leans on the frame of the open door and stops there, taking a moment to admire how gorgeous and tempting Yoongi looks laying under the car’s yellow light, kicking his shoes off, soaking wet, hair slicked back, damp shirt stuck to his frame, his hardened nipples pushing the fabric, his array of pretty pearl necklaces all tangled up hanging down from one side of his neck, legs spread wide open, begging Seokjin to get between them. Every heavy breath he takes is an invitation for Seokjin to get closer.

“Do you know how fucking pretty you are?” Seokjin asks under his breath, staring perplexed at Yoongi, but Yoongi doesn’t have time for that, it seems.

“Come here” is all he says, apparently ignoring the praise, but the smouldering sensation that courses through his body gives away the fact that those words are working him up, feeding the part of him that wants to give himself away to Seokjin.

Pulling Seokjin from his borrowed hoodie, Yoongi gets him inside the car, making him land on top of him, between his legs. He wraps them around Seokjin’s waist, along with his arms around his neck, and pushes him down for a deep kiss, heels digging on his lower back, but before continuing, before they start doing anything more than kissing, Seokjin breaks free from Yoongi’s hold and quickly turns around to close the door behind him, extinguishing the car’s yellow light, leaving them among subtle shadows and the metallic muffled sound of raindrops hitting the roof of the car, immediately going back to where his heart is telling him he belongs tonight: between Yoongi’s legs and inside his arms.  

They kiss hard and sloppy and fast, swallowing each other’s breath, like the world is close to an end and they want to meet their fate devouring each other without thinking about anything else. Their hard breathing creating a fog that permeates the windows and blocks the view, their bodies grinding against each other makes the inside of the car warm and toasty in no time, eliminating any trace of the cold from outside.

The heat is almost suffocating, making it hard for Seokjin to breathe and his clothes itch and hurt against his skin, he sits up and pulls both the borrowed hoodie and his plain white shirt off in a single, swift move, and just as quickly, he gets back on top of Yoongi to close the distance between their lips again, Seokjin’s tongue going from licking the inside of his mouth to lick across his jawline, as he pulls Yoongi up from his hips, to rut against him.

Yoongi can barely breathe with the stimulation and Seokjin’s weight on him, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he wants to feel every inch of Seokjin’s newly naked torso, they frantically travel from his hair, to his biceps, and down his chest until he finally settles both hands on Seokjin’s lower back, the latter’s skin feels warm, covered by hot glimmering sweat, he can now fully appreciate the softness of it, he slowly slides his hands from the small of Seokjin’s naked back, to his waist; he can feel how his body widens as he traces up his hourglass figure with the tip of his fingers, as Seokjin huffs and whimpers on his neck. When Yoongi reaches his shoulders, he carefully pushes Seokjin away from him to take a look.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Yoongi exclaims with nothing else in his mind, but how fucking sinful Seokjin’s body is.

The light that seeps from the streetlights outside the car creates shadows that cling to Seokjin’s torso, and even though he’s not jacked, he’s not too buff, every line and sharp edge of muscle and bone sticks out in all the right places: his chest, his abdomen, his collarbones and hips. And the veins on the back of his hands and around his arms make him look like he was sculpted by the most skilled and thirstiest artist; his smooth skin is a light shade of honey with sunset red undertones that makes Yoongi think of warm, sweet and comforting breakfast; his shoulders and chest are so wide, Yoongi feels it will take him ages to fully trace them with his mouth; and the fucking, small waist that had him rabid a few hours ago, is even more stupid in full naked view. And again, Yoongi wonders, how can a man, a real life human man, can be built like this?

“What?” Seokjin asks straightening his back, knelt on top of Yoongi, damp hair dishevelled, mouth agape, trying to catch his breath; lips red, swollen, shiny with rests of Yoongi’s saliva around them; long, well defined arms hanging loose at his sides; the frown on his face making him look intimidating, yet otherworldly. Yoongi’s drunken brain is having a hard time comprehending if this is real life or not.

Lightning strikes right in that moment, and the car’s dark inside is engulfed in white light for an instant, the loud thunder that follows makes Seokjin flinch startled, making Yoongi smile endeared at his reaction. Such a scaredy-cat, Yoongi thinks, realizing that no matter how absurd Seokjin’s body proportions are, how perfect his face is, he’s as human and real as he is.

Seokjin laughs at his embarrassing moments, he doesn’t mind making a full of himself if it makes others happy, he doesn’t act tough to impress a hook-up; actually, Seokjin doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who tries or needs to impress anyone, for any reason. Seokjin just is, and that makes him ten thousand times more attractive.

“The Universe was greedy when it made you.” Yoongi replies sitting up, placing a hand on Seokjin’s chest, because that’s the only thing he can think of doing.

Yoongi can’t help but giggle at the cheesiness of his own words, he knows how whipped he must sound, how stupid he must look, inevitably feeling too vulnerable and exposed for blurting out what’s on his mind unfiltered, an action that has rewarded him with too many rejection and heartbreak, but the uneasy feeling goes away when he catches Seokjin’s cheeks and ears turning a fiery red, at his shy smile at Yoongi’s praise.

And Seokjin knows he’s attractive, he’s confident about his looks, but he’s heard it all, for the Usual Praising comes almost always with the same words, the same adjectives: “handsome”, “good looking”, among other similar, generic words, resulting in the Usual Praising not really having an effect on him. But the way Yoongi speaks, the words he chooses to tell him he wants him, or just to simply express himself, there’s beauty in them, there’s creativity and a hint of unseriousness and playfulness that makes his self-esteem bloat and his soul shine.

“You have a way with words, don’t you?” Seokjin reaches forward to cup one side of Yoongi’s face in his hand, thumbing at his cheekbone, uselessly trying to fight the smile forming across his face, hoping the shadows can hide the red in his ears.

“I’d better do. I’m a writer, remember?” Yoongi leans into the touch, eyes closed, nuzzling at Seokjin’s palm.

“How could I forget anything you say?” Before Yoongi can even begin to process what that could mean, Seokjin leans forward, making Yoongi lay completely down on the backseat, removing his array of pearly necklaces and tossing them to the side, to kiss and nibble at his neck without anything in his way. Almost every thought inside of Yoongi’s mind disappears immediately as every inch of his body is flooded with electricity.

The only thought left in Yoongi’s mind, as Seokjin slithers a hand under Yoongi’s soggy shirt to squeeze at his side’s supple skin, is that he must have saved a million starving children in his past life for something like this to be happening to him in this one, because things like this usually only happen to Yoongi in his wildest wet dreams, and even then he’s not that lucky, for he would always wake up when it got good, but he’s not dreaming right now, is he? No, he’s very much awake, and this won’t end anytime soon like his dreams tend to, and unlike in his dreams, where things are beyond his control, he can do as he pleases, he has full control of his actions, of the things he wants to do.

And what he wants, is to sit up and press his lips on Seokjin’s stomach, and so he does. And Seokjin flinches surprised for a second.

And what he wants, is to kiss the skin there with his open mouth and trace the lines in Seokjin’s abdomen, that flank his navel, with his tongue, and so he does. And Seokjin shivers under the feeling of Yoongi’s wet, hot tongue move up along his midriff.

And what he wants, is to nibble at Seokjin’s hipbones, to leave red and violet marks on them, and so he does. And Seokjin reaches towards the back of Yoongi’s head, closing a hand around a fistful of Yoongi’s damp dark hair, slightly pulling at it, making him tilt his head back, forcing Yoongi to look at him.

Seokjin reaches down towards Yoongi’s pants with his free hand and slowly begins to undo his belt buckle. Yoongi can feel his arms shaking by his sides, hoping the strength in them is enough to keep supporting him. Yoongi looks up at Seokjin expectantly, while the other looks down attentively at the motions of his hand, and when he’s done opening Yoongi’s belt, he turns his eyes to look into Yoongi’s, this one waits for Seokjin's next move, heat envelopes his whole body, his cock so stiff, begging to be touched. The deep breath Yoongi was taking, turns into a surprised gasp when Seokjin pulls his belt out of his pants in one swift movement, learning that Seokjin can be quite unpredictable. 

Seokjin’s eyes slowly trace Yoongi’s features, and decides that Yoongi might be looking his prettiest right now, all flushed pink, sweaty, and soaking wet from head to toe, a hint of confusion and a lot of arousal in his eyes, making pretty sounds as he tries to even his breathing and everytime Seokjin’s hand clutches tighter around his hair.

“Lay down for me” he tells Yoongi letting go of his hair, his authoritative tone making Yoongi obediently do as told and laying completely down on the back seat of the car, lifting his arms above his head, spreading his legs, inviting Seokjin between them.

Seokjin takes in every delicate detail of Yoongi’s frame, from his flowy dark hair, to his smooth round, blushed cheeks; from his puffy chest and its hardened nipples, to the pale skin of his cute tummy that peeps from below his shirt; from the swollen bulge between his legs, to his bony knees, peaking from the oversized tears in his pants, and the peeled-off flesh and reddened skin on them, as well as the large, dark bruises that contrast with their paleness.

Seokjin can’t help feeling somewhat guilty about it, about how he didn’t think of tending to Yoongi’s wounds properly, it’s almost heart breaking, but he can make up for it now, can’t he? he can make Yoongi feel better.

“Baby, look at your knees!” Seokjin says pouting in an exaggerated worried tone.

Yoongi had forgotten about them and about his fall.

“Does it hurt?” Seokjin asks, a hand carefully placed above of one of Yoongi’s exposed knees, right above the wound, the pad of his thumb gracing the surface. An unyielding need to take good care of Yoongi invades his chest. He wants to make him feel good in every possible way.

Yoongi nods with a cute little pout on his face and Seokjin feels like he’s going to fucking die.

“Hyung will make it better, okay?” Seokjin replies with a little smile and moves closer to one of Yoongi’s tender knees, and gently, and carefully blows on it.

And that shouldn't have made Yoongi feel as aroused as he is, he shouldn't have moaned so loudly and pitifully when Seokjin pressed his lips to the bloody skin; and he shouldn't be dragging his hips and whimpering like a wounded animal, as Seokjin pays attention to the other and does the same thing. It shouldn't be so arousing to hear Seokjin repeatedly apologize for not taking better care of him.

Another thing Yoongi had forgotten, is how much he likes to be taken care of, to be told he is pretty, and to feel desired, but he remembers it now that Seokjin is treating him the way he’s always wanted to be treated: with little praises, and caring attention. He remembers now that Seokjin looks at him the way he’s always wanted to be looked at, with admiration and starving eyes focused on him and only him, like he is the only thing that matters.

His heart flutters at the thought of being Seokjin’s even if it’s just for a little while, he can’t wait to be railed nice and good.

“Is that better?” Seokjin asks with eyes full of fondness, and Yoongi nods with his lips parted, laying there breathing heavily for a few seconds, trying to organize the words in his mind.

“I’d feel better with your dick inside me.” Once more, his words blurt out of his mouth without thinking them too much, and this time his body moves on his own as well, and one hand reaches to the back of Seokjin’s neck, pulling him down on top of him, the other reaches to squeeze at Seokjin’s cock, making him hiss at the pressure, at how good it feels. Seokjin’s head drops against Yoongi’s shoulder as this one keeps on rubbing him while Seokjin drags his hips to enhance the sensation.

“Is that what you want?” he teases, he still has the mind to tease as he melts on Yoongi’s fondling of his member.

“Yes.” Yoongi replies, without hesitation, before picking up Seokjin’s face in his hands to kiss him one more time, bucking his hips up to rub on him.

As they kiss, Seokjin gets his hands under Yoongi’s shirt, gliding them slowly down his chest, brushing briefly his stiffened nipples, and down to his navel, causing Yoongi’s stomach to twitch under the playful touch, until he reaches the front of his pants. Seokjin hastily undoes Yoongi’s jeans and pulls them down and off, Yoongi helps him a little by lifting his hips to make it easier for Seokjin to remove them.

Their lips don’t break apart for a single second as Seokjin slides his hand closer to Yoongi’s hips, when this one notices, Yoongi tenses up for an instant and grabs Seokjin’s hand, moving it back up, keeping it from going further down.

Seokjin doesn’t attempt to lower his hand again, but, given that it was Yoongi who made the first move, he can’t help feeling a little confused about Yoongi’s sudden changed behaviour.

He tries to break the kiss to ask him if he still wants to move forward or if he’s changed his mind. He’s barely separated an inch from Yoongi’s face, when this one pulls him back into the kiss again, not allowing Seokjin to turn from him. And while Seokjin enjoys the urgency in Yoongi’s kissing, eventually he really needs to catch a breath and grabs Yoongi by the wrists to keep him from pulling him down every time he tries to back away.

“You okay? You still want to go through with this?” Seokjin asks, patiently and calmed. Yoongi’s mouth opens for a second, wanting to say something, but regretting it at the last minute.

And while Yoongi’s mouth might be on his side, his eyes betray him and quickly glances down between his legs, mistakenly thinking Seokjin wouldn’t see it.

“I mean, we don’t have to--” Seokjin interrupts himself when he notices the not-so-subtle way Yoongi lowered his gaze, and his eyes are drawn to mirror the motion, and his eyebrows fly to the top of his forehead, his eyes widen to the size of the Moon and his heart stops at the sight of the little, pink, lace underwear Yoongi’s wearing.

Seokjin doesn’t have the mind to say anything this time, he just stares at Yoongi, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open. He’s so baffled, Yoongi easily manages to escape from the hold on his wrists and covers his face with both hands, he feels so embarrassed, he wants to ran away and have the earth swallow him whole as he flees. 

Yoongi had completely forgotten he was wearing them, he would have never engaged in anything like this if he had remembered, for he doesn’t wear them to be seen, he wears them for himself, he likes the way they look on him, how the delicate fabric feels against his skin, and it’s not like he uses them every day, he only does on days when he may be feeling particularly sad or insecure about his looks, days when he needs to boost his self-esteem a little.

And today had been one of those days where he felt particularly sad, thanks to being brutally rejected by a guy he had gone on an actual date with a few days ago. He thought Yoongi was weird and boring and not even that good looking to put up with him, in a few words, he made him feel like shit and he needed to stop feeling that way.

“They make me feel pretty.” Yoongi confesses embarrassed from behind his hands covering his face, the blush so intense, it even colours his knuckles and the tip of all his fingers.

“You are already pretty.” Seokjin replies, eyes full of fondness, smiling so sweetly at Yoongi.

“You don’t need them.” He adds to his statement, and he means it, sure that Yoongi could wear a damn potato sack, and still look fucking gorgeous.

He runs his eyes down Yoongi’s body, absorbing with them the way his little garment can barely contain his erection, how the front is shiny with the precum that seeps through the lace, how the meaty part of his perky ass hangs out of them, too big and too round to be fully covered, how they beautifully match the pink tone of the soft blush that tints the edges of his body, how they contrast against his black cropped t-shirt and the creamy skin of the inside of his thighs and soft belly. He can’t remember if he has seen anything as beautiful and mouthwatering as Yoongi looks right now, he could stare at him forever if he didn’t want to eat him up so much.

And any sort of shame Yoongi was feeling melts away, for Seokjin isn’t put off by his choice of underwear; Seokjin isn’t embarrassed by his tummy-waving party trick; Seokjin isn’t intimidated by his parents’ social status; Seokjin isn’t bored with his conversation; Seokjin isn’t uncomfortable with his questions or comments about being animal hybrids, Seokjin plays along; Seokjin isn’t judging him, and most importantly, Seokjin seems to be welcoming everything he is.

Yoongi slowly removes his hands from his face, catching Seokjin eyeing him up and down with a look of complete worship and hunger, he thinks he should say something, something witty and bold and probably inappropriate to throw Seokjin off, but before he can even open his mouth, Seokjin looks up into his eyes and smiles at him, again that mischievous, almost evil grin, and every thought in his brain flies away.

“In fact…” Seokjin says, wetting his lips, his heart pounding like crazy, his throbbing member pulsating mercilessly inside his pants.

“They are only getting in the way. Look…” he lowers himself, getting his head between Yoongi’s legs and the latter’s heart skips a beat.

Once he’s there, Seokjin places his lips on Yoongi’s covered hard-on, mouthing at the bulge, sucking at it over the precum soiled fabric, turning Yoongi into a trembling, whimpering mess, and Seokjin himself is no portrait of composure either, for as soon as he gets a taste of Yoongi, something inside him switches on, turning him into an insatiable, hungry creature, a wildfire desperate to burn and destroy anything in its wake.

He pushes Yoongi’s legs up, hands carefully settled on his knees, spreading them wide to drag his teeth over the inside of his thighs, gaining better access to Yoongi’s butt, to bite the cheeks, to pull the fabric covering it between his teeth.

“Fuck!” Yoongi breathes out, knowing of what’s coming, when Seokjin slides his underwear to the side with his fingers.

“Fuck!” He exclaims again, louder this time, when he feels soft lips setting over his entrance.

And he whimpers and moans, like his soul has left his body, at the feeling of Seokjin’s hot, wet tongue licking flat up his hole, just one long, excruciatingly slow, delicious lick.

Seokjin sits back up, smiling proud of himself for getting the expected reaction out of Yoongi.

“Didn’t I tell you they were only getting in the way? Wasn’t I right?” Before Yoongi can answer, Seokjin presses his lips on Yoongi’s entrance again, kissing it deeply as if he were kissing him on the lips, spreading the cheeks with his hands, making him moan and grunt beautifully everytime his tongue laps over it.

With both hands wrapped under Yoongi’s thighs, Seokjin keeps him steady and close to his face. Every time Yoongi bucks his hips, Seokjin pulls him a little bit closer, and every time Seokjin backs away to get some air, Yoongi pushes him down firmly from his grasp at the hair on the back of his head, and is Seokjin the one who moans and makes delicious noises when that happens. 

Yoongi can feel Seokjin’s drool, along with his own precum, dripping between his asscheeks, he can feel Seokjin smearing it on his thighs when it becomes too much, and flinches whenever Seokjin squeezes or nibbles the inside with enough strength to make them red. His legs shake with every move of Seokjin’s tongue over his rim, when he moves it in circles, when he wiggles it fast, when it deepens inside him; his mind going blank as waves of pleasure course from the pit of his navel, to the tip of his cock, and he can feel it throb and pulsate inside his skimpy underwear, but he doesn’t touch himself, he doesn’t want to come, yet, and when he does, he wants to do it untouched and with Seokjin’s cock buried deep inside him.

It feels so good, too good, the way Seokjin uses mouth, and teeth and tongue to please him as best as he can, without slowing down, reacting to every little sound he makes, but Yoongi is in need of more of Seokjin, he wants, he needs to know how the rest of Seokjin’s body feel, he’s only gotten a little taste of it, he feels like he’d lose his mind if he doesn’t get more soon.

“Hyung… more, please, more. You…I want you.” Yoongi utters between broken breaths, picking up Seokjin’s face, bringing him up towards him.

Seokjin can’t barely handle how wrecked already Yoongi looks, how he pleads for more with his deep voice, how his eyes are watering, how his lips pucker up in a needy pout. He wants to give him what he’s asking for, rip him apart, break him in half, make him scream, but there’s one problem, one problem neither of them thought about in the heat of the moment.

“I-- I don’t have a condom or anything.” Seokjin admits defeated and flops on Yoongi’s chest, he feels so stupid, he should have listened to his friends earlier tonight when they told him he should always bring one with him. He got so used to hooking up with people he meets on online-dating apps since his break-up, that he overlooked the need of carrying protection when he doesn’t have a planned encounter.

“Oh…that’s…that is a problem.” Yoongi replies, stroking Seokjin’s fluffy, wet, brown locks, feeling surprisingly comfortable in this situation, but the disappointment in his voice is clear.

“I don’t have one of those either. I wasn’t expecting any of this.” Yoongi continues, a bit of embarrassment in his voice, Seokjin scoffs craning his head up to look at him.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, neither was I.” Seokjin replies, shifting in his place, throwing a leg over Yoongi’s middle.

It’s a disappointment they can’t continue, but being with Yoongi like this, just laying in silence, listening to the pouring rain, having his hair played with, it’s also good. Anyway, there’s nothing he can do about it, unless…

“Wait!” he exclaims and removes himself off of Yoongi and his sweet touch, and leans over the driver’s seat, hoping to miraculously find what he needs.

He looks under the sun visor above the driver’s and passenger’s seat, but there’s nothing; he looks in the glove box, and there’s nothing there, either. He’s about to give up, when he spots a little compartment in the middle of the dashboard, he closes his eyes and says a mental prayer to whomever is listening out there in the cosmos. When he opens it, is as if Destiny wanted him to fuck Yoongi tonight, for he not only finds a string of condoms, but a little bottle of lube.

“I feel sorry for the owner of this car” Seokjin jokes, sitting down next to Yoongi and unbuttoning his own pants.

“I want to ride you.” Yoongi suddenly says, out of nowhere, like it’s nothing, moving quickly to climb on his lap, straddling him, forearms over Seokjin’s shoulders.

“You do? Didn’t notice.” Seokjin replies, even if he’s being sarcastic, there’s a little bit of laughter in his voice, and a lot of happy in his heart.

He is delighted by how forward Yoongi is; he can’t help to look up at him and smile wide and fondly. And he thinks about it again, it’s less than a second, but the thought of the possibility of Loving Yoongi in the future crosses his mind, but this time, the word friend is not whispered back to him. Perhaps he could love him.  

Yoongi nods, eagerly and almost innocently, as an answer to Seokjin’s rhetoric question, before taking the bottle of lube from his hand, opening it, and smearing some of the liquid over two of his own fingers. He lifts himself up on his knees, ignoring the slight sting of pain he feels because of his silly wounds, enough to be able to reach back, and by the pursed look on his face and his subtle grunt, Seokjin can tell that Yoongi has managed to get, at least, one finger inside himself. 

Seokjin can feel Yoongi’s skinny thighs tremble under his hands, he squeezes them firmly, kneading them, following the pace of Yoongi fucking himself up and down on only he knows how many fingers, he watches him dumbfounded, studying every frown, every single smirk Yoongi makes as he preps himself up, until he inadvertently stops.

“Now, you do it.” Yoongi says, cleaning his hand on his shirt, leaning his body forward, still on his knees, his chest pressed against Seokjin’s shoulder, and hiding his face in his hair, he wraps his arms around Seokjin’s neck and pushes his ass up, his lace underwear still on, confident in Seokjin knowing what to do.

Apparently, Yoongi leans to the bossy kind, which is fine by Seokjin, he doesn’t mind following orders and being a good, obedient service top. If that’s what Yoongi wants, then that’s what he’ll get from him, therefor, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate in following Yoongi’s orders, pouring some of the liquid on his fingers, he’s so eager to do it, his hands so shaky, he doesn’t even notice how many fingers he covers with it.

Then he gets his other hand under Yoongi’s shirt, brushing the tip of his fingers down Yoongi’s spine, making him fasten his hold on Seokjin and his hole to clench around nothing, until he reaches one of his asscheeks and spreads it open to clear the access to his entrance, pulling his underwear further to the side. Seokjin’s lubed fingers slide up and down Yoongi’s butt-crack, spreading the liquid on them, adding to the slippery mess Yoongi made of himself, and after making sure his hole is well smeared with lube, he places the tip of his middle finger over Yoongi’s rim and slowly begins to circle it in.

Seokjin’s got curved fingers, Yoongi had noticed right away; he didn’t allow himself to dwell too much in fantasies about how they would feel inside him, though, because he wasn’t supposed to want him, he wasn’t supposed to be doing this, being tricked by a third party to hook-up with someone is not something he’s okay with, he didn’t agree to meet Seokjin, so making out with him, wasn’t supposed to happen, yet, here he is, on his knees, straddling the lap of a man he didn’t want anything to do with, sharing the same breath in every deep open-mouthed kiss as he lets him put two of his long, crocked fingers inside him, making him feel an array of new sensations with them the more they deepen in, thinking how could he go back to anything else after having someone like Seokjin, who is not only fucking gorgeous and skilled, but charming and funny, and who makes him feel so good about himself, accepted, cared for, and so beautiful, and this is just during casual sex.

Imagine being loved by him, a voice speaks inside Yoongi’s head, the intrusive thought making him blush and smile to himself, his little face buried inside the fluffy hair at the top of Seokjin’s head, the smell of strawberries and cream flooding his lungs.

Seokjin begins to slowly insert his middle and index fingers, Yoongi’s walls feel warm and moist and tight around them, widening it more, bit by bit, with every inch that goes in. He can feel how Yoongi’s entrance stretches, gradually allowing the rest of his fingers in, the sound of Yoongi’s heavy and broken breathing is so fucking cute against his ear, he can’t help leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jaw and neck, making Yoongi relax his hold around Seokjin’s neck, the feeling of pressure receding, allowing his fingers to completely go inside him, continuing to move them slowly, now in circles.

“Like this is okay?” Seokjin whispers into Yoongi’s ear, this one’s breathing hitches, unable to form words.

“Or should I go faster?” He asks, mirth in his voice, and Yoongi just nods, eyes pressed closed when Seokjin begins jabbing his fingers faster and harder inside Yoongi’s wet hole, making Yoongi dig his nails on his back and clench his teeth, Seokjin finds adorable the way Yoongi is making a tremendous effort in keeping his noises down, and makes him wonder what would it take from him to make Yoongi get louder.

“Another one, hyung. Give me another one!” Yoongi eventually demands, fully sitting on Seokjin’s fingers and his sticky, hot lips brushing the skin on the crook of Seokjin’s neck, after getting used to both of Seokjin’s curved fingers exploring his cavity, and Yoongi winces at the feeling of emptiness when Seokjin removes them from Yoongi’s entrance, only for his ring finger to join the other two and beginning to push them in slowly. Yoongi’s legs tremble around him, his hands clutch tighter around Seokjin’s hair, as Seokjin’s knobby fingers finish to enter him completely, and proceeds to move them in a come-here motion, stretching him further, opening him ready.

Every curve and bump of Seokjin’s digits feels too pleasing inside of Yoongi, but it doesn’t take long for them to be not enough.

“Hyung, give me you. Give you, now.” Yoongi pleads, his words so assertive, demanding and shameless, yet his voice hanging from a faint thread and so constricted, that now Seokjin can’t decide if Yoongi is bossy or if he’s submissive and needy, either way he’s more than willing to do what he tells him to, do whatever it takes to satisfy him.

Obediently, Seokjin removes his fingers from out of Yoongi and cleans them on his pants before pulling them, along with his underwear, down to his ankles, his cock springing out, hard and angry, he rolls the condom down his length and when he is done, he settles both hands on Yoongi’s waist, under his shirt, he can feel him breathing heavily and heated against his palms, his skin soft, still moist from the rain and almost burning hot.

“Yoongi, it’s done. You can start riding me, now” Seokjin speaks bluntly, a hint of mockery and a sweet playfulness in his tone. Yoongi sits up and lifts himself, aligning his hole with Seokjin’s cock, as the latter tightens his hold on his waist.  

Yoongi begins to lower himself on Seokjin’s dick, sucking him in slowly, nails digging at his shoulders to ease some of the pressure, for the stretch is more than he had thought it’d be, Seokjin’s also bigger than he’d thought, he wasn’t ready for it, he didn’t take a look beforehand, he doesn’t like to look at his hook ups’ dicks too much, feels too intimate for a one-night-stand…is this really what Seokjin is going to be? Just a one-time thing?

He gets further down on Seokjin and all his thoughts in his mind are replaced by Seokjin and Seokjin only, letting himself enjoy the way Seokjin’s member entering him hurts a little, how it’s the kind of hurt that feels good. Seokjin spreads his ass to help widen his entrance, and it makes it easier for him to go in. Having Seokjin’s hands on him makes everything better; he already wants to do this again.

And it dawns on him that Seokjin can’t be just a one-time thing, and even if Yoongi knows that Seokjin is still, basically a stranger to him, the way Seokjin talks to him, the way he touches him, and makes sure Yoongi is alright and gives consent, makes Yoongi feel all warm and giddy, he doesn’t want to stop feeling like that, and he hopes Seokjin is on the same wavelength as he is, and wants more of him after this is done.

When Yoongi’s ass finally meets the base of Seokjin’s cock, they stay still for a while, adjusting to the new sensations, breathing heavily, looking enthralled and fascinated into each other’s faces. Yoongi’s walls feel so tight around Seokjin’s shaft, the heat they provide is crushing, he wants to start thrusting inside him immediately, but he knows he needs to wait for Yoongi to be ready.

Yoongi is overwhelmed with how full he feels, he can’t remember ever feeling such a fullness, a fullness that almost makes his tummy hurt; it’s too much, it feels too deep, and suddenly he flops over Seokjin’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the latter’s neck.

“Yoongi, are you okay?” Seokjin asks, setting his hands carefully around the other man’s waist, but the only answer he gets is the sound of the broken silence by the downpour falling over the roof of the car, the rumble of distant thunder.

“Please don’t be dead. What am I going to tell the police?” he jokes, after not getting an immediate answer to his question. Yoongi chuckles, proving that he’s still alive.

“I don’t know if I can move.” he replies.

“I don’t know if I’m alive.” he continues, his face still buried in Seokjin’s brown locks, his hair smells so good, despite the rain water and the sweat, he takes a deep breath to fill his lungs with more of that sweet scent of Seokjin’s.

Seokjin smiles endeared, and carefully grabs him by the sides of his arms to help him slowly sit up.

“Do you want me to help you move?” the gentleness in Seokjin’s voice shouldn’t be so arousing, Yoongi thinks, but perhaps there are other things about Seokjin that shouldn’t be so arousing, like the way he laughs with his whole body, or the bumps in his long fingers, or the way his hair smells, or how snuggly Yoongi’s hoodie looked on him, or the way he stares at Yoongi with sparkly eyes.

“You can do whatever you want with me.” Yoongi answers and leans forward to press his lips against Seokjin’s in a kiss that soon turns heated and messy. He grabs Seokjin’s hands and places them on his hips; slowly Seokjin starts to move his own upwards, burying himself deeper inside Yoongi, leaving some space between each hard thrust, holding him tight still, making Yoongi moan into his mouth, and Seokjin gladly and happily swallows every breath.

Seokjin fucks into him gently, carefully, but firm and steady, felling every drag of his length go in and out of Yoongi’s hole, Yoongi has his head buried on Seokjin’s shoulder when he gradually starts moving up and down, until he sits up again, head tilted back, eyes closed, his mouth agape with his tongue slightly out.

Shit, he looks so fucking beautiful, Seokjin thinks, and he can’t do anything else but let, and watch, Yoongi have his way with him, watch him enjoy himself as he rides him, like Yoongi wanted to, but eventually he can’t take it anymore, no matter how well Yoongi fucks himself on his cock, how good it feels, now is he who wants more. He wants to make Yoongi feel good too, yes, but more than anything, he wants to wreck him, to make him cum so hard and deliciously that anyone who dares to touch Yoongi after him, winds up useless, and everyone who came before him is reduced to nothing.

Seokjin wraps his arms tight around Yoongi and holds him close to his chest and starts mercilessly shoving his dick in and out of Yoongi’s hole, pressing Yoongi so tightly to him, that the other man’s unable to move, he can only tighten his clutch at Seokjin’s hair as this one kisses the side of Yoongi’s neck open-mouthed, licking and biting to his heart's content, and when Seokjin’s cock pokes at his prostate, Yoongi’s head abruptly tilts back and there’s no more Quiet Yoongi, he now moans loudly and obscene, and Seokjin smiles proudly.

Yoongi leans back, supporting himself with his hands on Seokjin’s thighs, bouncing up and down like a manic rabbit, he fells a tingle by the sides of his jawline everytime Seokjin’s cock pokes him in all the right places.

Seokjin wraps a hand under the side of Yoongi’s underwear, he twist his grasp and pulls at it as Yoongi continues fucking himself, he pulls so hard he eventually rips it open.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby!” Seokjin apologizes, desperately, as Yoongi keeps fucking him non-stop.

“I’ll buy you new ones, I promise!” he immediately notices how stupid and wrecked he sounds. Yoongi slows down until he’s only cock-warming him.

“It’s okay, I have them in every colour.” Yoongi clarifies with a shrug, a little short of breath, brushing Seokjin’s hair away from his forehead.

“But you are going to need pink ones, pink’s my favourite colour. Please, let me spoil you!” Seokjin knows how whipped that sentence came out of his mouth, he doesn’t care.

He takes Yoongi’s face in his hands and pulls him in for a kiss, he whines into Yoongi’s mouth when his ass clenches around him, making Yoongi smile amused at how ruined Seokjin sounds.

“You just want to take me to a lingerie store and get me to try a bunch of weird things.” Yoongi bickers, his lips hovering over Seokjin’s.

“You are so smart!” Seokjin replies, raising his eyebrows, lifting Yoongi’s face with his index, smiling fondly and lovingly at him.

“You are a perv.” Yoongi scrunches his nose, but immediately kisses Seokjin again and starts dragging his hips, this time a little bit slower, allowing Seokjin to push his hips upwards, matching Yoongi’s movements, until they settle for a steady pace, the tip of Seokjin’s shaft finding Yoongi’s sweet spot immediately, making Yoongi feel so close to the edge, his recently freed cock leaking precum over Seokjin’s stomach, like an open faucet.

“Hyung, I’m going to cum.” Yoongi utters, leaning back, supporting himself with his hands on Seokjin’s shoulders, so tightly it’s going to leave finger shaped bruises all over the skin.

“You want me to touch you?” Seokjin asks, reaching for Yoongi’s leaking member, but Yoongi stops him by grabbing his wrist, shakes his head, and slides his hand to interlock fingers.

“I want to cum untouched. Hold my hand, fuck me harder.”

And Seokjin does, he fucks him hard and relentlessly, holding Yoongi’s hand in his, and with the other one he traces his body, he brushes his fingers up and down his spine from under his shirt, he kneads at his thighs, he grips his ass, and holds his jaw, not leaving any patch of skin untouched, making Yoongi utter the prettiest, pleasure induced sounds he’s ever heard.

“You make such lovely sounds for hyung, don’t you? Just like a good boy. You are such a good boy, Yoongi.” the praise makes a shiver travel up Yoongi’s spine, causing his arousal to take over, sending his body to overdrive, too close to his breaking point and yet, not enough, so he starts moving faster in order to get what he wants, squeezing Seokjin’s hand harder.

And Seokjin can’t do anything now, but let himself be used, and watch Yoongi eagerly chase his pleasure with so much of everything in his eyes, he feels flooded with a feeling he can’t not describe, he doesn’t know what it is, it can’t be love, Yoongi is a stranger, he doesn’t know him well enough to love him, but what he is feeling right in this very moment, is something a lot like it.

“Hyung…” Yoongi whispers, opening his eyes to look at Seokjin underneath him, his pace starting to lose its rhythm.

Seokjin smiles at him, brushing some of Yoongi’s hair behind his ear, his hand sliding from there to his jaw, until it cups the side of his face, his thumb brushing over his lips.

“Seokjinnie-hyung” Yoongi repeats, even more wrecked than before, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, brows furrowed in the middle of his forehead, cheeks flushed in the prettiest shade of flustered pink, a little lazy smirk on his face.

“Yes, baby…tell me?” Seokjin asks knowing well Yoongi is reaching his climax and won’t be really able to answer, just teasing for his own amusement.

Yoongi tries to speak, to reply to Seokjin’s question, but what comes out of his mouth, is a strained sound between a mewl and a moan, while strings of pearly white cum spill out of the tip of his twitching cock between them, landing all over Seokjin’s stomach.

Seokjin’s eyes frantically shift from side to side, not knowing where to settle them, he doesn’t know if he'd rather look at Yoongi’s face prettily contorting in overwhelming ecstasy, or at his skinny thighs spasming by his sides, or pay attention to the way his back arches as he bounces erratically on Seokjin’s shaft, or to his lovely pink cock spitting spunk all over him. There’s just too much beauty around him that he doesn’t want to miss, and he is so close to his breaking point as well, he just needs a little push.

“You are a mess” Yoongi mocks him, reducing his pace, but not stopping, dragging his hips slowly, riding the remains of his orgasm, fluttering his eyes open, letting go of Seokjin’s hand, his satisfied gummy smile across his face, he’s the image of pure bliss.

He reaches for Seokjin’s middle and scoops his cum with a hand, with the intention of cleaning it up on his shirt, but Seokjin stops him, grabbing his wrist.

“You have very beautiful hands, you know?” he tells Yoongi, as he examines his hand covered in his release.

“You have very beautiful everything” Yoongi replies without really thinking in his words, still lightheaded from the orgasm he just had.

Seokjin huffs, bashful and endeared at Yoongi’s reply, before taking Yoongi’s cum-glazed hand to his lips, and running his tongue between his fingers, sucking at each of them, Yoongi exclaims a shaky “oh, fuck!” under his breath, while Seokjin looks at him from below, his eyes dark and menacing.

“So sweet” Seokjin mutters between licks. Yoongi tastes so sweet, and his skin feels so soft, he’s starting to believe that maybe Yoongi is made of honey and cotton after all.

“So fucking sweet” he repeats, and the more he licks and sucks Yoongi’s fingers clean, the more his pace increases, until he’s fucking relentlessly into Yoongi again, until he’s cumming inside him.

He clumsily sucks and licks Yoongi’s fingers as he surrenders to his pleasure, deep moans and loud whimpers escape from his plump lips against the other man’s hand, inevitably smearing some of Yoongi’s cum on his chin and cheeks. Seokjin’s handsome face ends up coated with a mixture of his own drool and Yoongi’s release when he’s done, and Yoongi can’t resist the urge of cleaning the rest of his own cum from Seokjin’s face with kisses and licks. Seokjin hums happily before finally speaking.

“Look at you, you’re disgusting.” Seokjin teases him, leaning his head backwards on the car-seat, eyes closed, wrapping his arms around Yoongi in a tight, comforting hug, but the teasing doesn’t deter Yoongi from continuing placing kisses all over Seokjin’s face.

 “You like it, which makes both of us disgusting.” Yoongi teases back, and Seokjin can’t fight the smile forming across his face.

“See? You are so smart!” he holds Yoongi tighter, and Yoongi lets him squish him against his chest.

It feels so nice to be inside Seokjin’s arms, it felt so nice to be his. But what now? What’s next?

Maybe it was the ambience the storm and the dark, secluded alley provided, or maybe it was the levels of alcohol in their bloodstreams, whatever it was, Yoongi can’t help feeling that what just happened between them was much more than casual.

It didn’t feel like that to Yoongi, it felt like so much more; he doesn’t know it, but he’s right, because Seokjin is sure now.

Intrusive sunrays permeate through the car’s windows, engulfing everything in golden light, tiny specs of dust flurrying around, turn the atmosphere into an almost magical one. It doesn’t take long for them to notice that the first light of the morning is starting to show up, the rain has also stopped, perhaps it stopped a long time ago, but they were just too distracted to notice.

Putting their clothes back on is a little bit of a challenge, given that the garments are still wet; they both have trouble pulling up their soggy pants thanks to the way these stick to their rather dry skin and Seokjin’s shirt clings to his chest and shoulders in a weird, wrinkly way. Yoongi doesn't even attempts to put his shoes back on, Seokjin agreeing with him that there are a few things as bad as the feeling of wet shoes on dry feet.

The first thing Seokjin does after stepping out of the car, after Yoongi, is finding a trashcan where to throw the used condom away, not paying attention to anything in his surroundings, walking in a bee line towards the first garbage bin he finds.

“No fucking way!” he exclaims, mortified, stopping short when coming back from throwing away the condom and covering his face with his hands. Yoongi can see his ears have turned fire-truck red.

“Now what?” Yoongi asks, between annoyance and curiosity, arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s… that’s my car.”  Seokjin replies from between his fingers covering his face.

“That’s your car. Which car?” Yoongi repeats, incredulous, an eyebrow raised.

“That is my fucking car.” Seokjin confirms, pointing at the car behind Yoongi that is as red as his ears and cheeks and the rest of his face.

“The car we spent hours looking for, and the car that we just desecrated…?”

“They are the same.” Seokjin feels so stupid.

“You are joking.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“How could you not notice?” Yoongi asks as if Seokjin had overlooked a most important detail, and in a way he had.

Seokjin closes his eyes, and tilts his head with an exasperated expression on his face, he felt embarrassed enough already without Yoongi’s questioning, he takes a deep breath and moves closer to Yoongi, raising his crooked index finger in front of Yoongi’s face.

“First of all: I could barely see anything under the fucking rain. And two…” his middle finger joins the other one to make up the shape of a V.

“I was drunk.” he drops his head, defeated and still embarrassed.

“Why didn’t you <tweet, tweet> press the alarm?”  Yoongi moves his thumb as if pressing something inside his fist.

“Aiiish!! Because I was drunk as fuck and I forgot that was even an option!” Seokjin answers, his voice raising a little bit, facepalming himself. He’s so stupid, so fucking stupid.

“Did you leave it open or…?”

“It has a key sensor. It deactivates the alarm and the doors unlock automatically if the sensor is nearby.”

“Oh! that makes sense…” Yoongi admits and doesn’t say anything else, neither does Seokjin.

“I can take you home, if you still want me to.” Seokjin offers, avoiding silence lingering for too long, hopeful in Yoongi accepting.

“I mean, we found my car.” he shrugs, and uses his hands to direct Yoongi’s attention to the vehicle they just stepped out of, like one of those ladies that show off prices at television gameshows.   

Taking Yoongi home is the right thing to do after Jeongguk abandoning him to the Lord’s Mercy. He tries to convince himself that’s the only reason he still wants to take him home.

“I would tell you not to worry, that I can catch a cab, but I’m tired as fuck.” Yoongi lies, he may be tired, but that’s not why he’s accepting the ride.

They ride in silence with the Sun rising behind them, and their actions from a few moments ago, slowly dawning upon them the further they move away from the street that was witness to their love making or whatever it was that happened back there. They are sober now, so self-consciousness about what they just did is starting to invade their thoughts, but mostly they feel nervous about not knowing what their recent actions meant for the other, about wanting to drive along the street holding hands. Seokjin grabs the steering wheel tight to the point his knuckles have turned white, and Yoongi sits on his hands, with the excuse of warming them up, an excuse not even himself believes.

Although the silence might be deafening and the tension palpable, neither of them is uncomfortable, not in the sightless.

Silently riding in the car with Seokjin it’s almost therapeutic; Yoongi feels like he doesn’t have to worry about anything, that there’s nothing wrong in the world happening right now, that there’s nothing wrong in his life, that there’s nothing better that watching the tall buildings and skyscrapers move past him through the window, that nothing can touch him as long as he is next to Seokjin.

And Seokjin, Seokjin feels as golden as the sunrays that filter through the car’s windows and warm up the inside. He tries hard not to smile to himself, tries hard to keep his eyes on the road before him and not turning them towards Yoongi on the passenger's seat, not to chuckle at the sight of him sitting on his hands. He can’t remember a time or a moment when he felt more at peace than he does right now, he can’t remember meeting someone as interesting and peculiar as Yoongi, someone so comforting and eloquent and creative in his speech. Just being close to him is enough; to touch him, to kiss him, like Yoongi would say, is just greed.  

Unfortunately, they arrive at Yoongi’s apartment building way sooner than both of them would’ve wanted, despite the long drive that it takes to get to Goyang District. But it’s early morning on a Sunday, and the streets are clear of traffic and pedestrians, everyone is safe and sound and asleep at their homes, most likely recovering from a long night of partying and drinking.

 “Okay, this is me.” Seokjin stops the car, the engine still running, in front of a tall, white building that stretches all the way up to the clouds.

There’s a long walkway, flanked by bushes and flowers and trees, that leads to the front door. The place is pretty, and fancy, but not in an ostentatious way, it’s simple, yet elegant. Yoongi’s parents have good taste and a lot of love for their son, apparently.

“I guess I’ll see you around next time we hang-out with the guys, right?” for some reason Seokjin thinks that his words sound stupid, he wants to say so much more, but he doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t want Yoongi to go, but he said he was tired. 

“I thought you were going to plan their murders.”

“Meh, we’ll see. Maybe I’ll change my mind after sleeping all day.”

They shyly smile at each other, not sure of what to do, or how to say good-bye, and they end up reaching for a weird handshake-hug combo.

“Okay, bye.” Yoongi says in a shy whisper and steps out of the car, without saying anything else. He turns his back to Seokjin and starts walking along the pathway that leads to the front door of his apartment building, at his usual fast pace.

Seokjin watches him walk away, feeling hopeless and powerless.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he repeats, banging his head on the wheel, stopping and leaning on it when his forehead starts to hurt, eyes closed and dread in his heart thinking that it’s too late to chase after Yoongi and ask him out on a real date.

He’s looking and rubbing at his reddened forehead in the rearview mirror, when a quick and persistent knocking abruptly pulls him out of his thoughts.

“For fuck’s sakes! What the fuck?!” screaming is his immediate reaction, overlooking for a instant that Yoongi is standing next to the passenger window.

Seokjin rolls the window down, grabbing his chest, trying to regulate his breathing back to normal, his heart pounding like crazy. It’s difficult for him to tell if it’s banging only because of the jump-scare or if the giggly Yoongi outside has anything to do with it.

“Do you wanna come up for breakfast, you coward?”

Of course, he does.

“Take a seat. I’ll be right back.” Yoongi says, pointing at a chair in his dining room, when they enter his place. He walks towards the hallway and disappears behind the door at the end of it. A few seconds later, Seokjin hears the water running, concluding that Yoongi must be taking a quick shower, and he feels dirty and sticky all of a sudden, making him almost regret accepting Yoongi’s invitation.

While he waits, he scans Yoongi’s apartment from his seat; besides the neighbourhood where it’s located, and the fancy lobby downstairs, there’s nothing too flashy about it: plain wooden floors, a simple, round, white ceramic dining table with only four chairs around it; the kitchen is small, but equipped well enough to prepare decent meals, and Seokjin gets the impression that Yoongi knows how to properly cook; there’s a large empty area by the back wall where the living room should be, and Seokjin remembers that Yoongi said the apartment was empty when he moved in and spent almost all his savings in furnishing it as best as he could. Living rooms can be very expensive, Seokjin thinks, and the desperate need of buying one for him invades his heart.   

The water stops running, and Seokjin straightens his back filled with nerves and expectations, but relaxes the next second at the false alarm, when he hears the hairdryer go off. Only for the momentary calmness to disappear, after what it felt like two seconds, when he hears the sound of the hairdryer stop.

His palms start sweating immediately, and he leans his elbows on the table, covering his face with his hands, one of his legs jumps anxiously under it, he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He has no idea of what’s going to happen once Yoongi comes out, what would it be the correct way to act around him, the right thing to say or…

“Take off your clothes.” A deep voice behind him orders, and his heart freefalls to his feet.

“What? Why?” he replies startled, and unsure if he heard correctly, turning around to find Yoongi wearing the cosiest looking fit: a white cotton t-shirt so large, only the hem of his black boxershorts can be seen; his toes, dipped in his signature shade of pink, peak from a pair of black, rubber slides; his dark hair, hidden under a grey, wool beanie. He is holding a laundry basket under one arm and a shapeless, pink bundle in his other hand.

“To put them in the dryer, dumbass!” he smiles.

Seokjin exhales, immediately relaxing, the uncertainty quickly fading away entirely. He scoffs amused by Yoongi’s joke, and now that he’s recovered the confidence in himself, he feels allowed to appreciate how cute and soft Yoongi looks swimming inside the gigantic shirt he’s wearing making him look pocket-sized, and how his puffy, flushed face reminds him of the Full Moon during the month of April, when wildflowers bloom.

“I got you these.” Yoongi hands the pink bundle to Seokjin, becoming shy all of a sudden. It’s the way Seokjin looks at him so attentively, when he stands up to take it, with those intense brown eyes, under those thick, furrowed brows, what makes him feel so vulnerable and small.  

“Pink’s you favourite, right?” he puts the soft ball of fabric in Seokjin’s hands, and puts the laundry basket on the floor by their feet, before walking past Seokjin on his way towards the kitchen. Seokjin turns around to look at him, feeling endeared by the way Yoongi doesn’t walk, but waddles like an old man.

“Do you mind if I take a shower? I’m all gross and sticky, thanks to you.”

“How come that’s my fault?!” Yoongi replies from the kitchen among the clanking sound of metal, among the sound of the opening and closing of drawers and doors. Seokjin can only guess what Yoongi is doing there.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe because you glazed me like a donut?”

“It’s not like I did that on purpose!”

Seokjin sighs and picks up the basket, wondering where the guests bathroom could be, he smiles with his eyes closed feeling a little proud of himself at the memory of Yoongi spilling all over him.

“The guests bathroom is behind the first door down the hall to your right.” Yoongi peaks from behind the kitchen wall, pointing in its direction with the spatula he’s holding, like he had read Seokjin’s mind.

“Thanks. I won’t be long.”

“It’s okay, knock yourself out.”

Yoongi can hear the door of the bathroom opening and closing, and after a few moments, he hears the shower going off and considers getting in it with Seokjin, he felt a little disappointed when Seokjin didn’t follow him to his room, but come to think about it, that just speaks of the decent kind of human Seokjin is. He invited him for breakfast, and that seems what Seokjin really has in mind.

Although, the idea of a naked Seokjin under the shower stream, with his warm honey complexion, makes him think for something in particular to have for actual breakfast, thinking that, if Seokjin can’t be the meal, then he’ll have the next best thing he’s craving to put in his mouth.

The pink bundle Yoongi gave to Seokjin, turns out to be a pair or grey sweatpants, and slippers, wrapped in a baby pink sweatshirt.

He steps out of the bathroom already wearing everything Yoongi gave him, and the sweatshirt fits him just right, but the sweatpants are lacking a bit of fabric at the hem of each leg, the slippers are one or two sizes too big, yet all of it is very comfortable and smells sweet and fresh, just like Yoongi does.

He catches up with Yoongi in the kitchen, where he seems to be busy cooking something up.

“What you've got there?” Seokjin asks him, confidently sliding a hand behind the small of Yoongi’s back, to make some room for himself next to him in front of the stove. Despite the chill down his spine, Yoongi is able to reply calmly.

“Buttermilk Pancakes. For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about making those.” Yoongi plays coy, there’s a damn good reason his mind landed there, he’s been thinking about warm, comforting breakfast food for the last few minutes.

“I fucking love pancakes. Do we have enough, already?”

“Just a few.” Yoongi points to the short stack of pancakes sitting on a plate next to the right side of the stove, in front of Seokjin. He tries to seem aloof, he tries to hide the fact that seeing Seokjin with his wet hair pushed back, exposing his forehead, is driving him crazy. He’s so handsome, so dreamy and so polite and well mannered. It’s going to hurt to see him go.

Breakfast was a good excuse to keep him for a little bit longer, but what, then? Seokjin doesn’t seem to want to get involved with him like they did last night, otherwise he would have followed him to his room, wouldn’t he? Maybe it’s for the best that they remain just friends and move forward, Yoongi thinks.

“Yeah, we need more.” Seokjin says, nodding, hands on his hips, looking down, inspecting, the stack Yoongi already made.

“Then, could you keep an eye on the ones on the pan while I make some more batter?”

Seokjin agrees and each of them get on with their tasks in comfortable silence, in perfect harmony and sync, they move and walk around the kitchen, looking for the things they need, without getting in each other’s way. Seokjin asks Yoongi from time to time the location of certain things, but other than that, they don’t find any more reasons to break the silence, neither of them feel the need to do it when they feel so at ease.  

Nevertheless, Seokjin’s hands can’t stop shaking, there is something that’s bothering him, there’s something that’s been getting on his nerves for the past few minutes, and that’s the sound of Yoongi munching on tangerine slice after tangerine slice as he makes more batter and chops some fruit. Yoongi seems to be enjoying his little snack, but Seokjin would just like him to stop chomping soon, for the love of all things!

“You done with that?” he asks bluntly, even annoyed, pointing at Yoongi with his chin, when the irritating sound is finally gone.

“With what?”

“With your chewing.” that’s a very strange, and kind of rude, thing to ask, Yoongi thinks, but replies, anyway.

“Yeah, why?”

“Finally!” Seokjin quickly flips over the pancakes he’s been keeping an eye on for the past minute or two and then hastily throws the spatula he had on his hand, not caring where it could land or fall, before turning around and lifting Yoongi’s face between his hands, reducing the distance between their lips to nothing.

Yoongi wasn’t expecting to have his heart in a chokehold so soon and so early in the morning, he truly believed that Seokjin didn’t want anything more to do with him in that way, and his immediate reaction is to back away startled and confused, but when Seokjin exhales deeply and wets his lips with a disappointed look on his face, Yoongi’s determination kicks in.

He throws himself into Seokjin’s arms, wrapping his own around his neck, and kissing him back with no hesitation nor control. They quickly become completely immersed in a rushed, aggressive kiss that does nothing more than feed the desperate hunger for each other, both of them taken over by all the want and desire they had been supressing since they got in the car to drive to Yoongi’s place.

Yoongi separates from Seokjin only for the time it takes him to abruptly remove his beanie and toss it on the floor, pushing his lips against Seokjin’s again immediately, blindly walking him backwards towards the kitchen counter.

Seokjin clumsily tries to find his balance, aimlessly patting the surface of the countertop, as he lets Yoongi walk him in reverse, knocking down to the floor everything that could have been on it in his wake. The sound of metal hitting the floor, and porcelain crashing and breaking on the ground is deafening; surprisingly, it’s easily-to-get-scared Seokjin who remains unfazed, too focused on how much the taste of the inside of Yoongi’s mouth, the warmth of his tongue, and the softness of his lips, turns him on, too horny to care about any other mess that is not the one he wants to make out of Yoongi, though the harsh noise makes Yoongi flinch startled and freeze, turning away from Seokjin with the intention of finding the source of the racket.

“Leave it!” Seokjin exclaims, grabbing Yoongi by the jaw to turn his face back in his direction before climbing on the counter; once he’s sitting there, he spreads his legs wide open and with just the simple back and forth motion of his fingers, Yoongi understands what Seokjin wants from him, he unquestioningly takes a few steps forward to stand in the space between Seokjin’s legs, only to get distracted again by the unusual, mushy sensation he feels under his feet as he walks.

“I think I stepped on something!” Yoongi complains worriedly, trying to turn around to look under his shoes.

“I said: leave it!” Seokjin repeats, this time louder and more aggressively, and Yoongi has no other choice but to stay still and obey.

Seokjin wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist from his place on the counter, he drags his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, pushing it back away from his face, settling the heel of each hand on each one of Yoongi's temples, tilting the latter’s head up to forcibly make him look directly at him.

“Pay attention to me.” Seokjin whispers, their faces only one breath away from each other, before bending down and pressing their lips together; every part of Yoongi’s little body shivers and he finds himself helplessly melting into Seokjin, he pushes himself up on his highest tip toes to make it easier for their mouths to meet halfway in a messy and slippery, starved open-mouthed kiss.

Yoongi begins to drag his hands slowly upwards Seokjin’s thighs, his hands beginning to leisurely trail towards much more intimate places, when the smoke detector goes off, the high-pitch noise, impossible to ignore, interrupting their kissing and letting them know that the food, just like the moment, is ruined.

When the noise forces them to break apart, both of them are coloured with and intense blush on their cheeks, heavily breathing. Yoongi clears his throat before he does something stupid instead of putting out the stove fire, and as he walks to put the smoke detector on silent, he discovers that the thing he stepped on, a few moments ago, was the stack of pancakes that were already made, all of them scattering on the floor when the plate smashed on ground.

They end up having cereal.

They eat in silence, sitting down across each other, and after a few minutes of soothing quiet, Seokjin hears it: a shy, almost soundless chuckle.

Seokjin looks up from his bowl of colourful rainbow loops, and finds Yoongi covering his mouth with a hand, trying to hold back his laughter, shoulders shaking up and down. And he knows. He knows for sure now, more than he did before, and he starts laughing, too.

Seokjin’s laugher starts low and deep, until it becomes a squeaky loud mess and Yoongi also begins to laugh a little louder, using both hands to cover his mouth. And now, now he knows, too.

There’s no ringing of bells, there’s no opening of skies, there are no angels singing and there are no butterflies fluttering around in anyone’s stomach. There’s only them and the feeling of safety and calm. There’s bickering and passion and chemistry. There’s hope and excitement for the future and an unyielding desire to learn, to discover, to live, and to take over the world.

The laughing slowly dwindles as they look at one another with a new spark in their smiling eyes, playing footsie under the table like bashful teenagers.

“They are never going to shut up about it, are they?” Yoongi asks, leaning an elbow on the table and supporting his face on the palm of his hand.

“We are going to have to learn to live with that, I guess.” Seokjin knows that Yoongi has a point: if their friends find out that they were right about them liking each other, they are going to be very annoying about it, they won’t hear the end of it. 

“What happened to the plan of multiple homicide?”

“I still could make it happen, if you want me to.”

“Would you do that for me?”

Seokjin nods a few times, eyes closed and a little smile across his face.

The comfort that washes over Seokjin’s heart while looking at Yoongi’s heart-shaped face, and cotton-candy smile, across the table is one he thought wasn’t meant for him anymore. It makes him feel like he could do anything.

“Yeah, all for you.”

In the span of a few hours, Yoongi has being kind enough to let Seokjin use his shower, and dry his clothes, not only that, he’s also dressed and fed him; asking to stay longer, would feel like abusing Yoongi’s hospitality, but standing under the threshold of Yoongi’s doorstep is the most painful thing Seokjin has had to do in a while, he doesn’t want to go.

“Thank you for the food and the shower…. Oh! And the clothes. I promise to bring them back, yeah? I just don’t want to put on jeans at eight A.M. on a Sunday.”

 “Don’t worry about it. You can keep them if you want to. My mom got me that sweatshirt in hopes I would wear something else other than black and white, but it never happened; so, it’s yours if you’d like.”

He’s so kind, Yoongi’s so stupidly kind, leaving is killing him.

“Oh, that’s…that’s” he scrunches his nose and his face contorts in a strange way.

“That’s really nice of yooo--” his own yawning cuts him off. He opens his mouth so wide, it surprises Yoongi that it’s not absorbing him in. Seokjin shakes his head when the yawn ends, and blinks with watery eyes.

“You seem really tired. Do you think you’d be able to drive all the way back to your place? I mean, is it safe for you to drive like that?” Yoongi keeps his eyes on his own feet when he asks, and shyly tucks some of his hair behind his ear, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. It’s almost imperceptible, but his breathing has become a little heavy. Seokjin catches up immediately.

“You know what? You are right. It could be dangerous for me to drive in such a sleep deprived state.” Seokjin rubs his chin, apparently pondering upon Yoongi’s question. He looks calm, but his heart threatens to break through his rib cage with its beating.

“I… I would never forgive myself if anything happened to my only hyungie.” Yoongi talks in pout, long lashes fluttering on eyes that look up at Seokjin filled with poorly concealed sinful intentions. Seokjin looks back at him in silence, eyebrows raised, the wickedness in Yoongi’s eyes mirrored in his smirk.

…

And next thing they know, they are wrapped in each other’s arms, restless hands unable to stop sliding over, and groping, the other’s body, pulling at their clothes; lips pressed together, tongues exploring the inside of the other’s mouth. Little moans and whimpers and gasps filling up the hallway as they clumsily thrash against the walls, incapable of controlling their movements.

“Stay!” Yoongi pleads, the word sounding much more needy and whiny than he thought it would, trying to pull away as little as possible from Seokjin’s lips, while blindly walking backwards, pulling the other man from his shirt, towards the bedroom.

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your hospitality.” Seokjin teases, pushing Yoongi against the door of what he is sure is Yoongi’s room, lifting his arms to pin him there from his wrists, setting his lips over Yoongi’s neck to kiss and nibble at it as he pleases.

“You can take advantage of my hospitality and me as much as you want.” Yoongi replies, going completely pliant under Seokjin’s hands on him.

“Why do you keep saying shit like that? Are you trying to drive me crazy?!” Seokjin slams Yoongi on the door from where he’s pinning him by the wrists, the impact makes Yoongi smile surprised and lick his lips suggestively.

“Maybe. Is it working?” there’s a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You little shit…!” Seokjin uses one hand to squish Yoongi’s cheeks together and lift his face, freeing one of Yoongi’s arms, and this one takes the opportunity to pat the closed door behind him, looking for the knob that opens it.

They almost fall back on the floor when the door flies open, but they manage to find their balance. Yoongi pulls Seokjin to the bed from his sweatshirt, leading him as he walks backwards towards it, until he is laying flat on it with Seokjin on top between his legs.

The arousing, burning feeling between them would be suffocating if they weren’t breathing into each other’s mouths, the friction between their bodies keeps feeding the desire and hunger between each other, finally allowing them to be free without holding anything back.

Yoongi doesn’t want to stop, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open, not to doze off everytime he closes them for a moment, when the bed is too soft, too warm, and the heaviness of Seokjin on him feels like a giant weighted blanket; he can’t help to let out a big, noisy yawn.

“You need to sleep. You are tired.” Seokjin pulls himself up from Yoongi to look at him. He turns to lay back on the bed, at Yoongi’s side.

“I still wanna do it.” Yoongi replies, his eyes already closed, hands rubbing his belly, and a whiny pout on his face.

“I’m not going to fuck you while you sleep.”

“I wouldn’t mind it.” he shrugs and another big yawn comes out of his mouth and his nose wrinkles when it ends, he looks adorable, and he sound serious, but Seokjin's not sure if Yoongi means or not.

“Hmm, yeah…that would be…hmm.” Yoongi opens his eyes and bursts into laughter at hearing Seokjin so nervous and unsure.

“I’m kidding! Wow, you were really considering it, weren’t you?” he rolls on his side to look at Seokjin, who is looking at him with a playful pout and frowning.

“I don’t know” Seokjin shrugs and turns on the bed to lay his head on Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi soon begins to absentmindedly run his fingers along Seokjin’s soft hair. Everything feels right in the world.

“How can I be sure with you? You are too pretty…” Yoongi frowns confused, but doesn’t stop carding Seokjin’s hair.

“And you know what they say about the pretty ones.” He adds, burying his face in Yoongi’s chest, he takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent he already adores so much.

“What is that? What do they say about the pretty ones?”

Seokjin raises his head to look up at Yoongi, he reaches to hold one of his cheeks and turn Yoongi’s face in his direction.

“The prettier, the crazier. And from what I’m seeing, you must be insane.”

“Then you must be mad-house, straight-jacket mental.” Yoongi replies, his bottom lip trembling a little, and he shifts in his place to lay on his side, before the adoring look on Seokjin’s face takes the best of him, his back pressed against Seokjin’s chest. He doesn’t think his heart has ever beaten as fast as it does in this moment.

Seokjin smiles to himself, hugging Yoongi from behind, pulling him closer, feeling how Yoongi pushes his butt back against his crotch like the cheeky little tease he is, but by now the sleepless night is taking its toll on him, and he knows it’s the same for Yoongi, so he just lets himself relish in Yoongi’s warmth, and the feeling of his body next to his, his sweet scent and the softness of his skin as he slithers his hand under his shirt to run it over Yoongi’s midriff.

“Nooo!” Yoongi softly whines, grabbing Seokjin’s hand and moving it up, away from his middle.

“It’s not ready.” he says, before a big yawn escapes his mouth. He sounds like he’s already dozing off, slurring his words, not making much sense.

“What is not ready?” Seokjin plays along, endeared and curious about what other nonsense sleepy Yoongi would say.

“My…my body.” He wiggles inside Seokjin’s arms, while his words come out at the same time as his yawn.

“I-I have this annoying, soft, mushy, belly.” Seokjin smiles fondly and hides his face in Yoongi’s hair, if he held him any closer or tighter, he would break him in half.

“Baby, I know. I’ve seen it.” he replies, completely smitten by the man in his arms.

 “And it’s not annoying, it’s adorable. A little baby bump.” He adds, moving his hand under Yoongi’s shirt again, taking advantage of Yoongi being already halfway into dreamland, lovingly kneading his soft and supple little tummy.

“A what?” Yoongi flutters his eyes open at the sound of Seokjin’s unexpected choice of words.

“A baby-bump. Come on, you know what that is. You know how babies are made.”

“Hyung, I can’t be pregnant.” Yoongi says, not completely sure about what Seokjin is trying to convey with his words.

“I know, we used a condom.” Seokjin lovingly holds him closer, nuzzling against his hair.

“That’s, that’s not wuh—wait!” Yoongi turns around to face Seokjin.

“Do you…do you have breeding kink?” his question coming out with a slight judgmental tone to it.

“…What if I do?” Seokjin replies, half daring, half worried. An expression of uncertainty on his face.

“Then you are not normal, either!” and now Yoongi understands why the other guys laughed when he suggested Seokjin was a prude. He’s not a prude, he’s a bit freaky and apparently has quite particular kinks.

 “Oh, no, no! Don’t you dare kink-shaming me, Mr. If-I-Were-a-Cat-Hybrid/Fuck-Me-In-My-Sleep!” Seokjin playfully presses Yoongi’s face hard against his chest, smiling at Yoongi’s muffled giggles and at his cheeks being squished between Yoongi’s hands in an attempt to escape Seokjin’s smothering ways.

“Okay, I guess I am a little weird, but you are, too!” Yoongi turns on his side, smiling his widest, throwing an arm over Seokjin’s middle and resting his head on his wide chest. He feels safe inside Seokjin’s arms wrapped around him. He feels safe with him, like he can be his true self without hesitation, fear or shame.

“I thought I told you I liked it weird.” Seokjin reminds him, and kisses the top of his head.

Yoongi smiles, and before the moment’s gone, he braves himself and speaks:

“Hyung, I would...would you, would you like to…” Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was this nervous, he’s having trouble finishing his sentence, but there’s no need for him to say anything else.

“I would love to, but let’s get some sleep first. When we wake up, you can tell me where do you want me to take you on a real first date, okay? Hyung will take you anywhere you want.” This time, is Seokjin who apparently can read minds.

“And Yoongi…Just to give you a heads up…” Seokjin continues.

“I’m going to fall in love with you.”

Yoongi’s heart skips a beat.

“Is that a threat?” Yoongi replies after a few seconds of silence, a joyful smirk pulls at one corner of his lips, Seokjin can’t see it, but he can hear it in Yoongi’s voice. He wouldn’t have expected a different reply from Yoongi that is not playful bickering.

“Take it as you want. I’m just telling you.” Seokjin tries to sound aloof, unbothered even, but his face hurts from all the smiling.

Seokjin closes his eyes, finally ready to fall asleep, with so much love and peace in his heart, he wouldn’t care if this was the last day of his life. He smiles to himself at the thought of how they were just trying to have a peaceful, uneventful night out, just trying to make it home before getting caught up in the storm, at how neither of those things ended up happening, and now…

“Hyungie…?” Yoongi’s voice pulls Seokjin from his thoughts, he hums and tightens his hold around him to let him know he’s listening.

“I’m going to fall in love with you, too.” He shyly whispers, holding Seokjin tighter, closer to him, finally quenching his need to wrap himself around Seokjin’s waist.

“Good, that’s good.” Seokjin replies before both of them falling asleep, both of them hoping the future doesn’t take long.

And now, everything’s different from twenty four hours ago, when neither of them woke up thinking that it could be possible to fit so perfectly in a stranger’s arms.

And now, the heartbreak from the past, that appeared to be carved in stone, seems like a memory so distant, so vague, it’s like it may have never even happened. 

And now, there’s nothing else to do but wait, wait for the inevitable moment when the thing they never knew they needed, turns into the one thing they can’t live without.

Perhaps, Love at First Sight is real for some, but it’s not the case for them. This is A Premonition of Love, Koi No Yokan.

The End