Chapter Text
Hoseok only has one tattoo.
It’s a single word, written in fine cursive on the inside of his pinky finger: romantic.
Yoongi has a lot of tattoos - so many that Hoseok has lost count, because he’ll show up with new ones from time to time, all nonchalant, like he gets them done in his sleep or something. But Hoseok always sort of hopes that romantic is his favorite of them too.
That’s their tattoo. Their drunken night in West Hollywood, too many comped cocktails in, stumbling down the street together while Hoseok’s bodyguard held their coats and side-eyed them like he was on the cusp of advising them to make better choices.
He didn’t.
Hoseok and Yoongi found one of those shady little tattoo parlors that accepted walk-ins - visibly intoxicated walk-ins, at that. They’d been laughing all night, endlessly entertained by the headline People Magazine had run just a day earlier. A photo of Hoseok and Yoongi heading out of a coffee shop near Yoongi’s studio, Yoongi holding his Americano in one hand, and Hoseok’s matcha in the other, outstretched far enough that Hoseok could sip it as they walked. Over it on the glossy tabloid paper was a caption blasted in garish, chunky yellow text: ROMANTIC?
“Journalism is dead,” Yoongi had snorted, as the tattoo artist held his wrist to finish inking the last line of his work.
“But romance is alive,” Hoseok giggled, and slipped halfway off his chair toward the floor.
When Hoseok’s mother found out the next day, she chided him, told him he was going to lose bookings over it.
People don’t want their models with graffiti on them, Hoseok, she’d clicked her tongue and sighed.
To be honest, in the six years since they got it, Hoseok can truthfully say he’s pretty sure he hasn’t lost a single opportunity over it. If anything, he’s gained some.
But really, their story doesn’t start there. The story starts…maybe when they were three, and Rolling Stone did a spread on the two of them, and their mothers; front page, looking regal. It was the first time the two of them had been curated for presentation to the public as a pair, united in their similarities, and their stories.
Or maybe it begins before that. It probably begins before that. It begins in 1989 when their dads, Dae and Jun became the frontmen of smash hit boy group Heads Up!, and then, as rumor would have it, got caught up in a years-long romance that blew up in their faces, brought about the eventual end of the band, and resulted in Yoongi, followed in rapid succession by Hoseok.
Rebound babies, they were called.
A matching set.
No one really talks about that anymore. Hoseok’s dad passed three years ago, before he got to ask him anything about anything. Hoseok isn’t sure he ever would have. His dad was more a distant character than a known figure in Hoseok’s life, which is a regret in its own right, but easier than losing someone deeply loved.
Yoongi’s dad is- well, they’re pretty sure he hasn’t left his house in something close to a decade now. But their mothers are friends, bonded by the very allegations that could have pitted them against one another - side pieces, cheap baby mamas, gold-diggers. They took that bullshit and made an empire from it. Mina Kim, CEO of a high-market fashion label, retired model. And Yoongi’s mother, Song Lee, one of the most acclaimed actresses working today.
With their unlikely partnership, Hoseok and Yoongi became a piece of that. Sold as a set, do not separate.
And like their fathers before them, they’ve dodged every possible rumor under the sun - best friends, clandestine enemies, jilted lovers, soulmates, rivals, boyfriends, husbands, career-partners, everything. Anything. All of it.
But the truth, the whole truth, is that they’ve always been just Hoseok and Yoongi.
“Have you and Yoongi fucked?”
Hoseok is about to go in for a sip of his mimosa when Jeongguk’s question hits out of left field and clubs him over the head. He half-inhales, half doesn’t, and the result is orange and champagne hitting the back of his throat and making him cough.
“Jeongguk,” Hoseok croaks, reaching for his napkin to conceal his respiratory distress. They’re on the private rooftop of one of their favored breakfast spots, but if there’s one thing Hoseok had drilled into him early on, it’s to assume he’s being watched at any given moment, and act accordingly. And no one needs to see him hacking up mimosa over his avocado toast. “Since when is that breakfast conversation?”
“Anything is breakfast conversation if you talk about it over breakfast,” Jeongguk shrugs, reaching for his shiny red vape, blasting cherry-colored imagery all on the front. It smells like someone’s grandmother’s perfume started taking steroids, but Jeongguk likes it, so Hoseok keeps his mouth shut. At twenty-one, a lifelong doll of the limelight, Jeongguk Jeon could have worse vices.
“Besides, I’m done eating.”
Typical Jeongguk. Hoseok says this with all the love in his heart, but the kid eats like a damn bear, and he always puts it on Hoseok’s tab. As of now, his Builder’s Breakfast - two pancakes, three scrambled eggs, four sausage links, sourdough toast and hash browns - is reduced to merely a ketchup and maple syrup smudge on his plate hinting at its former glory. And he’ll hit the gym after this and burn it all away and then some, the way he always does.
“Okay, fine,” Hoseok shrugs, indulging Jeongguk, as he always finds himself doing. Jeongguk’s the closest thing he has to a little brother. Eight years Hoseok’s junior, and prone to acting like it. The baby of the strange collection of them who make up the offspring of the group formerly known as Heads Up! Five boys: Yoongi, Hoseok, then seven years later, Jimin and Taehyung, followed by Jeongguk a year after. There’s something of a generational divide between them - the press sure considers there to be - but that hasn’t hindered them all from growing close-ish between themselves. Especially once the younger ones got old enough to be included in life’s actual highlights, after parties and the by-name-only private rooms at nightclubs and everything that comes with it.
Hoseok’s getting off-topic here. Jeongguk just asked if he’s ever fucked Yoongi, like it’s nothing more than an observation about the weather.
“Why are you asking that? Of all things?”
“Just a question,” Jeongguk shrugs and exhales a cherry cloud, always the overachiever, puffing his cheeks to make shapes out of the smoke. “Cause if you did, I was gonna ask if you recommend sleeping with your friends.”
Hoseok groans and knocks back the mimosa that almost killed him a moment ago. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Jeongguk replies, Bambi eyes widening. Whenever he does that, that face, those eyes, Hoseok has a hard time remembering he’s twenty-one now, not a cute toddler, or a baby deer.
“Jeongguk. Please.”
“You’re making assumptions.”
“And you’re asking if we fuck our best friends, so what happened?”
Jeongguk shrinks back and wrinkles his nose. His inked up knuckles are white, clutching that shiny red pod in his hand. Hoseok always thinks it’s funny how much he takes after Yoongi. They could be brothers, the two of them. Inked up, and thinking in music first and foremost, quiet and shy until you crack through their polite little shells. They even have the same haircut right now, that shaggy, dying-perm mullet.
He sighs heavily, and flicks Hoseok one of those puppy dog looks of his, the one that’s become his trademark gaze for most photos.
“I hooked up with Jimin last night, that’s all.”
Hoseok, who had just lifted his half-eaten toast, slams it back down again in an instant. “Jeongguk!”
“What?” Jeongguk leans back, visibly affronted. Embarrassed, more like. He would be, he’s had a sweetheart soft crush on Jimin for years now. They all know it - Jimin most of all. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?” Hoseok repeats, lifting a deeply, deeply dubious brow. “Jimin says it’s nothing, or you say it’s nothing?”
“Both,” Jeongguk replies in a tone so vehement that it circles back around and becomes unconvincing.
It’s important to know one thing each about Jeongguk Jeon and Jimin Park: Jeongguk is a lover. And Jimin doesn’t do commitment. Never has. Maybe never will.
No doubt, Jeongguk will claim he knows this and is completely totally perfectly alright with it. But Hoseok knows what he sees, knows what he knows.
And yet, that isn’t what Jeongguk wants or needs to hear. And Hoseok will be the first to admit he’s not a leading lecturer on a thriving love life, so he’s probably better off just smiling and waving like he’s walking the step and repeat at a glittering film premiere.
Jeongguk flicks another glance at him, this time with the exact tinge of doubt Hoseok suspected. “You don’t think it’ll cause any problems, do you?”
Hoseok shrugs. How could he say? How could anyone say? “Hell, if I know.”
Jeongguk nods, as if Hoseok’s words contain some sort of previously undiscovered wisdom. He’s quiet for a moment, then tilts his head and squints. “You’ve really never hooked up with Yoongi?”
“No,” Hoseok replies, automatic and insistent. His voice hitches in a manner that he isn’t particularly fond of.
Jeongguk catches it.
“No, but you’re blushing,” he notes, a smudge of dry humor in his tone. Those doe eyes are sharp. “Very fuckin’ interesting.”
“Let’s keep talking about you and Jimin,” Hoseok tells him flatly, bringing his toast back to his mouth and taking an overzealous bite in the hopes that it’ll give him an excuse to avoid speaking for a minute.
He has a clue why he suddenly isn’t fond of this topic, but he isn’t sure yet that he’s willing to discuss it. Then again, Jeongguk did just debrief about his love life. A reasonable person might expect the same candor in return.
“Nothing else to talk about,” Jeongguk replies, that skeptical brow still on prominent display. “Yoongi told me it’s not polite to go into detail anyway.”
Typical Yoongi. Always the gentleman. That, and he’s shy. I don’t kiss and tell really means I’ll blush and forget how to make eye contact if we talk about this.
It’s endearing. God, it’s so fucking endearing.
“Well, he’s probably right,” Hoseok breezes on, “but I’m nosy.”
“Yeah, you’re not the only one now,” Jeongguk snorts and returns to his vape, huffing out a cloud that he doesn’t bother turning tricks with. He’s too busy fixing Hoseok with that look still.
Hoseok pops the last of his toast into his mouth and crunches. “I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about.”
“When’s the last time you saw Yoongi?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You’re dodging the question. You’re dodging every question! Jeongguk exclaims. It’s more of a whine. He likes being allowed in, allowed to know. The curse of being the youngest, perhaps. He spent the most time being sidelined for his age, and now that he’s old enough to play with them, he wants it all.
Hoseok makes a tssk of a sound in the back of his throat, waving a hand as if to brush away Jeongguk’s eagerness. As he does so, he catches the familiar sight of the tattoo sitting pretty on his pinky, almost untouched by time, even years later.
It’s a strange thing, the way that makes his heart twinge.
“It’s nothing. Seriously, nothing.”
Jeongguk shrugs. “If it’s nothing, you should tell me anyway.”
“Ahh, it’ll bore you. You’re such a crazy kid, you have way more fun than I do. All my senior citizen problems will make you laugh.”
Jeongguk flips his sunglasses down to fix Hoseok with a very, very direct, inescapable variant of His Look. “You are twenty-fucking-nine years old. You should be in the club right now. You should literally be wrapped around a pole shaking your ass.”
“Something tells me my PR team would have words to say about that.”
“Yeah. Obviously. And you do it anyway, it’s the privilege of being young. And hot. They let you get away with everything.”
Hoseok swallows a smile, a little endeared, a little exasperated. “I’m not as brave as you, honey.”
Clearly. Jeongguk had the balls to get with Jimin. And Hoseok? Well.
Jeongguk leans all the way back in his chair, head tipping over the side. His ribs expand as he draws in a deep breath, then blows it all out in one swift exhale toward the open sky. “So you didn’t sleep with Yoongi, but you want to.”
Okay. Well, what, does Hoseok just have his thoughts in fucking closed captions on his forehead?
He clears his throat. “I don’t.”
“Not at all?”
“Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk tips his chin down once again, a mischievous grin crawling up his mouth. “If you were alone in a room–”
“No.”
“-and he came in and got on his knees–”
“No.”
“And he was all, “Hoseok, I’ve always–”
“Jeongguk,” Hoseok groans loudly. If they weren’t in a public space, he’d get up and slap a hand over Jeongguk’s mouth to shut him up. “Seriously, did someone put you up to this?”
Jeongguk exhales another cherry-sour cloud and laughs. “Who, The Daily Sun?”
“No. Like, Taehyung.”
“He didn’t.”
Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to raise a brow.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “He didn’t! Honestly, he didn’t. I was just asking. For me, no one else.” A glimmer of the light fades out of Jeongguk’s gaze, that boyish facetiousness taken away with the breeze. “Do you not want me to? Is it, like, serious?”
“No,” Hoseok exhales. It’s half a sigh. It isn’t serious, it isn’t anything. It’s in his head, is what it is. Nothing has changed at all, but for weeks now, any time he looks at Yoongi, there’s this…glitter. He feels shiny inside, all light up like each reflective piece on a disco ball. Warm, and eager, filled with that sort of hope that comes paired with unexplored potential.
He’s never felt that way about Yoongi before. Loved him for years, most certainly. As a friend. But things are feeling distinctly…less friendly, recently.
It isn’t like they swore it would never happen, or wrote off dating one another. It just never came up. Those emotions never arose, and Hoseok got real comfy thinking they never would.
And he isn’t sure, now, if he wants them to.
If they can.
If any of it is even real, or just fabricated by, what? Being fucking impressionable?
He shakes his head, then buries it in his open hands. “It’s really kind of stupid, honestly.”
“Try me,” Jeongguk says, and his voice is softer and much more earnest now. He isn’t joking, he wants to help. “I’m not a little kid, I have good advice too. Sometimes.”
Shit, they’re really hanging a lot on that sometimes, aren’t they?
Hoseok swallows, forcing himself past the sudden dryness coating his throat like sand paper. “I dunno. It’s nothing legit, I just…sometimes… I guess I think about Yoongi?”
“Well, I’d hope so. You guys practically shared a crib.”
“No, I mean, I think about…what it would be like. Y’know. To date him.”
“Ah.” Jeongguk is silent for a moment, just watching Hoseok with those big babydoll doe eyes. There’s nothing there, no judgment, no shock, nothing. Is he withholding a comment? Is he keeping it from Hoseok intentionally?
Jeongguk clears his throat and leans forward. “And?”
“And what?” Hoseok blinks, affronted.
“That’s it?”
“What do you mean that’s it?” Hoseok squawks, trying to keep both his voice down, and the air of indignance out of it. “I just told you I might have feelings for my best friend!”
“Well, yeah,” Jeongguk shrugs, like Hoseok just told him water is wet, or the sky is sometimes cloudy. He lifts his vape and takes another rip on it, exhaling a fat cloud that hangs between them like a curtain. “That happens all the time, just tell him.”
“Oh, it’s not that easy,” Hoseok groans, dropping his head on the table. It’s not, is it? No, of course it’s not. If it was, everyone would be dating their best friends all over the place.
“Isn’t it though?” Jeongguk asks, musing. “I told Jimin I was completely fucking serious every time I said he’s hot, and we hooked up that night. Sometimes it is that easy.”
Hoseok looks up. He’s sure his face is scrunched from its brief time on the table. He pouts. “You sleep with your friend one time, and suddenly you know how the world works.”
Jeongguk snorts. “As if. Just saying Jimin and Yoongi aren’t so different. We know them. We can say this shit to them.”
Hoseok doesn’t reply. He’s too deeply buried in his head, scrambling to weigh the pros and cons of it all.
After a moment of silence, Jeongguk reaches over the table and gives Hoseok’s shoulder a gentle shove. “Not saying you have to write up a confession tonight. Just think about it. For a while, if you need to. But let yourself try.”
Hoseok sighs. Jeongguk’s right. He does give good advice sometimes.