This was written for the Poly Yoonmin Fest on AO3 where this is also crossposted.
Prompt:
Jimin and Yoongi have been looking for a third. They think they've found their perfect match in Jungkook, only to realize he's very taken and his boyfriend Namjoon probably wouldn't appreciate that. To their surprise, Namjoon and Jungkook have plans of their own.
dw: flirty jk, namkook are in fact a package deal, foursome, do whatever your heart desires you can go crazy with it
dnw: sad/open/ambiguous ending
Thanks to my beta:Â honour
"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!â Jiminâs voice comes rushed and breathy as he squeezes between the press of bodies near the bar. With one last push, he wiggles free of the mass, snatches up the worn leather satchel occupying the empty barstool, and collapses onto the seat.Â
Hugging the satchel to his chest, he takes a deep breath, his shoulders moving with the movement as he takes a moment to get his bearings. As he shifts, getting more comfortable, the man on the neighboring stool swivels his seat around to fully face him.
âYouâre late.â
Jimin catches the strap of the satchel on the bag hook on the underside of the bartop before looking up to roll his eyes at his longtime partner of several years.
âYeahâŚyeahâŚyeah, I know. The parent-teacher conferences ran longer than expected. I left as soon as I could.â Jimin says apologetically.
Yoongi sips at the remainder of the amber liquid in his tumbler before casually motioning the bartender over to them.Â
âAnother scotch, please, and a glass of Pinot for my partner,â Yoongi requests to the approaching bartender, his voice a low gravel that contrasts with the gentle waves of black hair that fall to his shoulders. He catches Jiminâs eye again, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in Jiminâs apologetic grimace.Â
Yoongi checks the gold Rolex on his wrist, then props his chin on the heel of that same hand, crossing his legs. âAn hour over?â he pushes. His outfitâa soft yellow cardigan over a white button-down with sleeves rolled up to reveal pale forearms, paired with perfectly worn light-wash jeansâmade him look more prepared to settle in with a book than to be perched on a Chester barstool in the town's newest wine bar.
Jimin braces his hands on Yoongiâs thigh to lean in and press a firm, lingering kiss to his partnerâs cupidâs bow. After a second, he settles back into his seat, nodding a thanks to the bartender as she sets down their drinks.
âIâll only apologize once, Gi. The Choiâs were relentless about their twins' curriculum and grades. God forbid either of them dip below their perfect 4.0 and risk not getting into the most elite colleges. I am sorry for making you wait.â
Yoongi scoffs, air dragging across the back of his throat. âAh, well, I guess dealing with the Choiâs is your punishment enough. Also, the scotch here is actually pretty good. I already enjoyed a glass and watched the crowd come and go.â
Jimin sips from the wine glass, humming as the flavor bouquets across his tongue. âAnd this is my reward.â He sips again. âThis and some quality time with my loveâŚmaybe more.â
Yoongi hums around his own sip, his nimble fingers lacing with Jiminâs. He gazes adoringly at his better half. Even after a long day spent educating the next generation, Jimin looks as captivating as ever. His soft, cream-colored, knit turtleneck drapes him warmly, tucking into dark forest-green, high-waisted, wide-legged trousers. A delicate gold chain catches the light at his neck every time he shifts on the stool next to Yoongi. His light-brown hair is styled loosely, the strands swept casually to the side, framing a face that still holds the softness of youth despite the weariness of his workday, his eyes full of clear affection for Yoongi.
Yoongi squeezes Jiminâs hand, his thumb stroking the knuckles. âWell, since you are finally here⌠I think I found someone.â
Jiminâs eyebrows raise in pleased surprise. His eyes, already sparkling with contentment, become even brighter. âOh? Tell me everything.â
Yoongi turns slightly on his stool, motioning vaguely toward the far corner of the bar where a small, semi-secluded lounge area is situated. âSee that guy? The one in the oversized black hoodie, talking to the one in the distressed denim jacket?â
Jimin follows Yoongiâs gaze, his focus instantly narrowing on the pair. The man in the hoodieâwho must be the focus of Yoongiâs interestâis young, with fluffy dark hair that curls slightly around a sharp, handsome face. Heâs leaning back against the plush velvet sofa, one long leg stretched out, looking utterly relaxed. Heâs animatedly talking, his hands occasionally gesturing in a fluid, expressive way.
âThe one with the big, doe eyes and the tattoos peeking out from under the hoodie sleeves and the lip rings?â Jimin asks, a low, appreciative hum escaping him.
âThatâs the one,â Yoongi confirms, a quiet satisfaction in his voice. âHe came in about forty minutes ago, right as the bar was really starting to fill up. He had this lost, slightly overwhelmed look, like he didnât quite know where to sit. I was about to motion him over, but then his friendâthe one in the jacketâcame over and swept him away to that corner.â
Jimin watches the man, a thoughtful expression replacing this earlier surprise. Heâs certainly striking; thereâs a captivating softness mixed with an underlying edge of cool in his appearance.Â
âHeâs beautiful, Gi. Really beautiful. Do you know his name?â
âJungkook,â Yoongi says, dropping his voice conspiratorially. âI overheard his friend call him that when they were ordering. Heâs been laughing a lot. A really open, genuine laugh. And his friend keeps touching his arm, or leaning in close to hear him over the music.â
Jiminâs smile softens around the edges, his focus still on Jungkook. âA good sign. Open, expressive people usually translate well to⌠well, everything.â He takes another sip of wine, his gaze lingering. âDid you get any vibes off him? Anything that suggests heâs even looking?â
Yoongi shakes his head slowly, a faint trace of wistfulness in his eyes. âHe hasnât looked over here once. Heâs completely absorbed in his conversation with his friend. But thereâs this energy about him, this quiet magnetism. He just looksâŚcomplete. And I want to complete him even more.â
Jimin reaches out to cup Yoongiâs cheek, his expression warm and encouraging. âSo, whatâs the plan, smarty-pants? We canât just stare at him all night.â
Yoongiâs familiar smirk returns, sharper now. âWe get closer. Iâm thinking we move to that little standing table near their section. Itâs far enough not to be creepy, but close enough for an accidental glance or two. And maybe, just maybe, Iâll accidentally drop my very expensive pen right in his path.â
Jimin laughs, a light, musical sound. âYou are a menace, Min Yoongi. A charming, beautiful menace. Lead the way.â
After getting their drinks refreshed, Yoongi guides Jimin through the press of people mixing and mingling for after-work drinks and commandeers the high-top table identified earlier.
Jimin settles in close to Yoongi. He briefly nuzzles in close, arm around the older manâs waist, face burying in the curve of his neck. Jimin inhales deeply, eyes falling shut as the scent of Yoongiâs cologneâsandalwood, lavender, citrusâwashes over him.
A few moments pass like that, them in their own little bubble. Yoongi is more than used to Jiminâs need for closeness and just lets him. His fingers carding through the youngerâs hair, basking in the burn of scotch down his throat as he takes another sip.
With one last squeeze to Yoongiâs waist and a kiss to his neck, Jimin straightens up. His eyes immediately track back to the corner lounge. Jungkook is still laughing, head tilted back slightly, revealing the smooth expanse of his throat. His friend, the one in distressed denim, says something that makes Jungkook cover his mouth with a hand, giggling behind his fingers.
âOkay, so whatâs the deal with the friend?â Jimin murmurs, leaning in so his breath tickles Yoongiâs ear. âIs he a potential obstacle?â
Yoongi follows Jiminâs gaze. âHeâs attentive, Iâll give him that. Always a hand on Jungkookâs arm or shoulder. Leaning in. Heâs dressed well, too. That denim jacket is probably vintage.â
Jimin tilts his head, watching on as Yoongi continues. âHe has a bright, open energy. Very friendly. Could be an older brother or a very close friend.â
"A very close, touchy friend," Jimin counters, but thereâs no malice in his voice, only observation. "Heâs got a great smile, too. Sunshine-y."
They watch the pair for another minute. The friend leans in, speaking in a low voice. Jungkook nods, then glances briefly, fleetingly, toward the bar. Itâs the first time heâs looked away from his companion, and his eyes pass right over Yoongi and Jimin.
Yoongi catches the moment, a subtle tightening in his chest. "Nowâs the time," he whispers. He reaches into the pocket of his cardigan, pulling out a sleek, expensive-looking fountain penâa Montblanc, a gift from Jimin on their fifth anniversary.
"Ready for the performance?" Jimin whispers back, a grin playing on his lips.
Yoongi grins in return. With a calculated movement, he pretends to fumble, letting the pen slip from his grasp. It clatters softly against the polished wood floor, rolling directly toward the corner lounge area, stopping just short of Jungkookâs outstretched foot.
Jungkook stops mid-sentence, his brow furrowing as he looks down at the metallic object. The friend follows his gaze, then looks up to see Yoongi already moving toward them with a suitably apologetic expression.
"Oh, excuse me," Yoongi says, his voice pitched to be heard but not overly loud. He approaches the edge of their secluded section. "My apologies, that was clumsy of me."
Jungkookâs eyes widen slightlyâthose big, doe eyes Jimin had noted. He bends to pick up the pen, his fingers brushing the cool metal before he holds it out to Yoongi. "Here you go."
"Thank you," Yoongi says, taking the pen and letting his fingers linger for a mere second against Jungkookâs. He meets Jungkookâs gaze, letting a soft, genuine smile touch his lips. "Itâs one of my favorites."
"It looks expensive," the friend comments brightly, offering a friendly smile of his own.
"It was," Yoongi confirms, tucking it away. He pauses, maintaining eye contact with Jungkook, who seems a little shy now, his cheeks faintly colored. " My name is Yoongi, by the way."
Jungkook manages a small, shy smile. "Iâm Jungkook."
"And Iâm Hoseok," the friend chimes in, nodding toward Jimin, who has now gracefully sauntered up to join Yoongi.
"Jimin," Jimin supplies smoothly, flashing a dazzling smile that he knows works wonders. He doesnât waste time on the friend; his full attention falls on Jungkook. âNice sweatshirt.â
Jungkook looks down at his oversized black hoodie, pulling at the edge of the fabric, a surprised little laugh escaping him. "Oh, thank you. This is⌠well, this is just my favorite hoodie."
"Well, still itâs nice and suits you," Yoongi adds, his voice warm and admiring. "Are you enjoying the evening?"
Jungkookâs eyes dart between Yoongi and Jimin, a curious light beginning to spark in them. He seems slightly overwhelmed by the sudden, intense attention, but not entirely unwilling.Â
"Yeah, itâs nice. Hoseok and I just finished a project and decided we needed a celebratory drinkââ
âOh! What are you celebrating?â Jimin interrupts, a little too eagerly.
âUm, just a major project at work.â Jungkook tongues at the double hoops in his lip. âWe work at a game design studio.â
âGames? Like board games?â Jimin presses, inviting himself to join the duo on their cushioned seats. Jimin perches on the plush velvet cushion, appropriately situating himself next to Jungkook.
Jungkook lets a light laugh escape as he shakes his head. âNo, I donât even think people play those anymore. We design video games.â
Jimin gasps and playfully shoves at Jungkookâs shoulder. âHey! We play board games still. Isnât that right, Gi?â
Yoongi settles onto the arm of the sofa, one leg braced on the ground as he slides his free hand around Jiminâs shoulder. âJiminâs right. We have a cabinet full of board games.â
Jungkookâs hand catches Jiminâs before he can shove at him again. Their hands remain linked for several moments before Jungkook releases the smaller hand. âI stand corrected. At least two people still play board games.â
That sends Hoseok giggling, hands clapping as he rocks side to side.Â
Yoongi tsks. âYou keep making fun of us, and you might not get an invitation to join one of our infamous game nights.â Yoongi maintains steady eye contact with Jungkook as he raises his crystal tumbler to his lips.
Jungkook is the first to look away, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. He shifts in his seat and picks up his own cocktail glass.
Jimin claps his hand against his thigh. "Well, a successful project deserves a proper celebration," Jimin says. "Maybe we could buy you two a round?"
"Thatâs very generous!"Â Hoseok exclaims. âAnd if I didnât have to be somewhere, I would totally accept.â
Jimin starts to pout and looks at Jungkook. âDo you have to go too?â
Jungkook picks up his phone to check the time. Before responding to Jimin, he quickly responds to a text notification. âNo, I can stay and have another one. But honestly, you really donât have to.â
Yoongi smiles down at Jungkook. âWe know we donât have to. We want to.â
Hoseok says goodbye to the couple and directs Jungkook to text him later, then disappears into the crowd.
âWhat are you drinking, Jungkook? Iâll go get another round from the bar.â Yoongi asks.
âJapanese whiskey highball, please.â
âComing right up,â Yoongi says, dropping a light kiss to Jiminâs hair before heading back through the throng of people toward the bar.
Jimin turns his full attention to Jungkook, resting his elbow on the back of the velvet couch. âSo, a game designer. Thatâs fascinating. What kind of games do you work on?â
Jungkook relaxes slightly. âMainly RPGs. We just finished a massive open-world fantasy gameâthatâs what we were celebrating.â
âOh, a fantasy game! That sounds fascinating. Swords, magic, dragons?â Jiminâs eyes sparkle with genuine interest.
âAll of the above, and a very complex morality system,â Jungkook confirms, a proud smile gracing his lips. âWe spent three years on it. Iâm an environmental artist, so I spent most of my time designing landscapes, cities, and the look and feel of the world.â
âThat sounds incredible,â Jimin says softly, leaning a little closer. He can already picture itâthe vibrant world designed by this beautiful, talented man. âYou must be really proud.â
âI am,â Jungkook admits, a touch of shyness returning. He catches Jiminâs eye and holds it for a second longer this time. âItâs a lot of work, but seeing people enjoy something you poured your soul into⌠thereâs nothing like it.â
Jimin nods in understanding. âI get that. Iâm a high school literature teacher. Seeing a student finally understand a difficult concept, or light up when they connect with a classicâitâs the best feeling.â
âLiterature,â Jungkook repeats, tilting his head. âDo you teach Shakespeare?â
âOh, you know it,â Jimin laughs. âI make them act out the good parts. The drama of Romeo and Juliet is always a crowd-pleaser.â
Yoongi returns then, setting the highball glass on the coaster near Jungkook and handing Jimin a fresh glass of wine. He slides onto the cushion next to Jimin, his arm naturally falling around Jiminâs shoulder again.
âAlright, this new game,â Yoongi says, sipping his scotch. âIs there a demo online?â
Jungkook shakes his head. âNot yet, but the full game launches next month. Iâll make sure you two get a copy.â
âA personal copy? Now thatâs a real treat,â Jimin purrs, his hand finding Yoongiâs knee and giving it a light squeeze.
The three of them settle into an easy conversation, mostly driven by Yoongi and Jiminâs gentle prodding. Jungkook is shy but open, his genuine warmth coming through. They talk about everything from their favorite travel destinationsâJungkook loves the mountains, Yoongi and Jimin prefer coastal citiesâto their favorite musicians.
They learn that Jungkook is twenty-six, lives in a cozy apartment not far from the bar, and has a passion for photography when heâs not designing digital worlds. He has a slight obsession with documentaries about deep-sea creatures and prefers the company of close friends over big parties.
After nearly an hour, a comfortable silence falls between them. The noise of the bar seems to fade slightly as they simply look at each other, the interest in their gazes no longer needing to be masked by conversation.
Yoongi clears his throat gently, looking at his Rolex. âWow, itâs gotten late. You probably need to get homeâŚâ
Jiminâs eyes plead with Jungkook. âUnless⌠you donât have to rush off? We were just talking about dessert. Thereâs an amazing gelato place around the corner.â
Jungkookâs eyes dart between the two of themâYoongi, calm and steady with a question in his eyes, and Jiminâs, hopeful and dazzling. The air shifts, suddenly thick with possibilities.
Jungkook smiles slowly, a wide, breathtaking, bunny-like smile. âIâd love toââ
ââwait for you?â
The deep, rich timber of a voice cuts through the air before Jungkook can finish his sentence, startling the trio. A large, warm hand lands gently on Jungkookâs shoulder, the weight of it familiar and possessive in a way that makes Yoongiâs eyes narrow instinctively.
Jungkook twists in his seat, his face lighting up with a brilliance that rivals the excitement he showed for his video game design.Â
âJoonie! You made it!â Jungkook exclaims, reaching up to cover the hand on his shoulder with his own tattooed one.Â
A tall man steps around the side of the velvet sofa, looking apologetic but unmistakably fond. Heâs wearing a long tan coat that screams understated elegance, with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose that give him a scholarly airânot unlike the vibe Jimin tries to cultivate in his classroom.
âIâm sorry, bun,â the newcomer says, leaning down to press a firm, lingering kiss to the top of Jungkookâs fluffy dark hair. âThe meeting ran late, and traffic was a nightmare. I texted, but I see you were⌠occupied.â
The man straightens up, his gaze shifting to Yoongi and Jimin. His expression is polite, but thereâs a sharp intelligence in his eyes that suggests he misses very little.
âHi,â the man offers a dimpled smile that is charming but clearly stakes a claim. âIâm Namjoon. Jungkookâs boyfriend.â
The word hangs in the air between them. Boyfriend.
Jiminâs mouth snaps shut, the dazzling smile he had been aiming at Jungkook faltering for a fraction of a second. Beside him, Yoongi stiffens imperceptibly, his fingers freezing around the rim of his tumbler.Â
The realization hits them both at once: Jungkook wasnât just a cute, single game designer looking for company. He is very much taken.
âOh,â Jimin manages to squeak out, his voice an octave higher than usual. He quickly clears his throat, recovering his composure with practiced grace. âItâs⌠lovely to meet you, Namjoon. Iâm Jimin, and this is my partner, Yoongi.â
âWe were just keeping Jungkook company until you arrived,â Yoongi adds smoothly, though he sets his drink down with a finality that signals retreat. He stands, buttoning his yellow cardigan as if shielding himself from the awkwardness of the situation.
Jungkook looks between his boyfriend and the couple, seemingly oblivious to the sudden shift in tension. âThey were so nice, Joon! Yoongi hyung dropped his pen, and we started talking about RPGs and literature. They even offered to take us for gelato.â
Namjoonâs eyebrows raise slightly. His gaze doesnât immediately go to Jungkook, though. Instead, it flickers to Yoongiâlingering on the expensive Montblanc pen now tucked in the cardigan pocketâand then slides over Jiminâs form-fitting turtleneck.
âGelato,â Namjoon repeats, the corner of his mouth ticking up.
âRight. Of course, you two probably have plans,â Jimin says quickly, picking up Yoongiâs leather satchel and handing it to him. âWe didnât realize he was waiting for someone. We certainly didnât mean to⌠overstep.â
Yoongi offers a tight, polite smile, the âmenaceâ in him completely subdued by the reality of the situation. âIndeed. You have a lovely⌠partner, Namjoon. Have a good night. Jungkook, good luck with the game launch.â
Yoongi places a hand on the small of Jiminâs back, guiding him to turn away.
âWait.â
The word is spoken softly, but with enough command that Yoongi halts mid-step.
Namjoon is smiling nowânot the polite, guarding smile from a moment ago, but something wider, deeper, and infinitely more interested. He adjusts his glasses, his eyes gleaming with that sharp intelligence.
âWe did have plans,â Namjoon says, his hand sliding down to rest possessively but comfortably on Jungkookâs hip. âBut Jungkook has a terrible sweet tooth, and Iâm afraid I have a weakness for interesting company.â
He looks directly at Jimin, then Yoongi, his expression shifting from protective boyfriend to intrigued hunter.
âWe havenât had gelato in ages,â Namjoon continues, his voice dropping a register. âAnd since youâve already charmed my boyfriend, it seems only fair you give me a chance to catch up. Unless the offer is off now that Iâm here?â
The silence that follows is brief but heavy, filled with the sudden, frantic recalibration of Jimin and Yoongiâs expectations. Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glanceâa lightning-fast conversation between partners that conveys âDid he justâŚ?â followed by âI think he just did.â
Yoongi recovers first, though the grip he has on Jiminâs waist tightens reflexively. He turns back to Namjoon, studying the taller man with a renewed interest.
âThe offer is decidedly not off the table,â Yoongi replies, his voice steadying into a smooth, low drawl. âThough we might need to upgrade the venue if weâre hosting a party of four.â
âGelato is perfect,â Jungkook beams, practically vibrating with excitement as he leans into Namjoonâs side. âThereâs a place two blocks down that does a black sesame flavor Iâve been dying to try. Can we go, Joonie? Please?â
Namjoon chuckles, the sound deep and rumbling, and presses a kiss to Jungkookâs temple. âLead the way, bun.â
As they exit the dim, ambient warmth of the wine bar and step out into the crisp evening air, the dynamic shifts. Instead of two separate couples walking in parallel, the lines blur. Jungkook immediately falls into step beside Jimin, chattering animatedly about the game engine specs he hadnât had a chance to finish explaining earlier.
This leaves Namjoon and Yoongi bringing up the rear.
Yoongi sticks his hands in his cardigan pockets, glancing sideways at the man beside him. Namjoon is imposing, certainlyâtall, broad-shouldered, and exuding a calm confidenceâbut thereâs a playfulness in the way he watches Jungkook ahead of them.
âSo,â Namjoon starts, his tone conversational but his eyes fixed on Jungkook. âLiterature and RPGs. Thatâs a versatile skillset to bring to a bar pickup.â
Yoongi snorts, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He appreciates the directness. âWe find it filters out the boring ones. Jungkook mentioned he designs worlds, and it kind of went from there.â
âAnd?â Namjoon asks, tilting his head. âDid he pass the inspection?â
Yoongi stops walking for a brief second, forcing Namjoon to pause with him. He looks at the younger man ahead, who is currently laughing at something Jimin said, his nose scrunching up in delight.
âWith flying colors,â Yoongi admits honestly. âHeâs⌠remarkable. Which is why we were ready to walk away. We respect boundaries, Namjoon. We didnât know he belonged to someone.â
Namjoon hums, stepping closer. He towers slightly over Yoongi, but he dips his head so their eyes are level. The streetlamp above catches the glint in his glasses.
âHe belongs to me,â Namjoon agrees, his voice possessing a weight that sends a shiver down Yoongiâs spine. âBut he also has a lot of love to give. And Iâve never been the type to hoard a good thing, especially when he seems so taken with the two of you.â
He nods toward the pair ahead. Jimin has linked his arm through Jungkookâs, and they are already halfway down the block.
âBesides,â Namjoon adds, a dimple popping out as he offers Yoongi a conspiratorial grin. âI noticed the way your partner looked at me when I walked in. I figure if Jungkook gets the pretty one, I should at least get to know the dangerous one.â
Yoongi blinks, caught off guard for the second time tonight. A slow, cat-like smirk spreads across his face.
âCareful, Namjoon-ssi,â Yoongi purrs, gesturing for them to continue walking. âYou might bite off more than you can chew.â
âI have a big appetite,â Namjoon counters smoothly, falling back into step beside him.
By the time they reach the gelato shop, the air is electric. They crowd into a booth designed for four, knees bumping under the table. Jungkook sits next to Jimin, their shoulders pressed together as they debate the merits of fruit sorbet versus creamy chocolate, while Namjoon sits opposite, next to Yoongi, his gaze heavy and calculating in the best way possible.
As Jungkook hands Jimin a plastic spoon to try his black sesame, Namjoon leans on the table, resting his chin in his hand.
âSo,â Namjoon begins, addressing both Jimin and Yoongi now. âTell us. What exactly were you two planning to do with my boyfriend once you got him full of sugar?â
Jimin freezes with the spoon in his mouth. Yoongi just takes a slow lick of his coffee gelato, holding Namjoonâs gaze.
âWe were going to ask him what he wants,â Yoongi answers.
Namjoon smiles, and it looks like a predator realizing heâs found his prey. âGood answer. Because we have a few ideas of our own.â
Jimin swallows the mouthful of black sesame a little too quickly, the cold sliding down his throat in a rush that matches the heat flooding his cheeks. He looks from Namjoon to Yoongi, his eyes wide.
âIdeas?â Jimin echoes, his voice dropping to a hush as if heâs conspiring in a crime. âThat sounds⌠ominous and promising.â
âJoonie always has the best ideas,â Jungkook pipes up, oblivious to the heavy tension or perhaps reveling in it. He reaches over with his spoon, stealing a generous scoop of Jiminâs pear-riesling sorbet. âMmm. This is refreshing.â
Jimin watches him, amused despite his nerves, while Yoongi leans back against the boothâs vinyl seat, settling in comfortably beside Namjoon. Since he canât reach his partner across the table, Yoongi simply taps his spoon against the rim of his coffee gelato, his dark eyes shifting from the exchange of sweets between Jimin and Jungkook to the man sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Namjoonn takes a calm, measured bite of his dark chocolate, looking entirely too pleased with the seating arrangement.
âIâm assuming these ideas involve more than just dessert recommendations, Namjoon-ssi,â Yoongi says, his voice low and steady.
âPlease, drop the honorifics,â Namjoon replies, taking off his glasses to wipe a smudge with the hem of his coat. Without the lenses, his gaze is even more piercing. He slides them back on and folds his hands on the table. âAnd youâre right. Jungkook and I have been talking for a while about⌠expanding our circle. We arenât necessarily looking for a third. We were looking for equals.â
He glances meaningfully at the way Jungkook is currently leaning into Jiminâs space to steal another bite of sorbet.Â
âKookie has a lot of energy,â Namjoon continues, his voice lowering so only their side of the booth can hear. âHe needs attention, affection, and stimulation that one person canât always provide 24/7. And IâŚâ he pauses, his eyes locking with Yoongiâs. âI enjoy watching him thrive. But I also enjoy complexity. A dynamic with just one other person can be unbalanced. But two established units coming together? Thatâs stable. Thatâs interesting.â
Yoongiâs lips curve into a smirk. âStructure. Balance. You approach romance like an architect.â
âAnd you approach it like a poker game,â Namjoon counters, a playful glint in his eye as he nods toward Yoongiâs guarded posture. âHolding your cards close until you know the stakes.â
âThe stakes seem to be rising,â Yoongi murmurs. He kicks Jimin gently under the table to get his attention. âJimin-ah.â
Jimin looks up from his cup, a drop of melted sorbet glistening on his lip. âYes, Gi?â
âNamjoon is proposing a merger,â Yoongi says dryly.
Jimin blinks, then looks at Namjoon, finally catching up to the conversation the âadultsâ were having. A slow, dazzling smile spreads across his face.
âA merger,â Jimin tests the word. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the sticky table. âDoes that mean I get to find out whatâs under that very responsible coat?â
Namjoon chokes on a laugh, surprised by the sudden boldness. Beside Jimin, Jungkook cheers, nearly knocking over his cup.Â
âYes! See, Joon? I told you he was fun,â Jungkook says, bouncing in his seat. He turns to Yoongi, his expression turning earnest. âWe really like you guys. I know we just met, but⌠the vibe is right. Isnât it?â
Yoongi looks at the three of them: Jimin, glowing with interest next to the eager Jungkook, and Namjoon, the steady anchor beside him.
âThe vibe,â Yoongi concedes, taking another bite of his gelato, âis immaculate.â
The walk to the apartment is short, filled with the kind of charged silence that speaks of anticipation rather than awkwardness. When Namjoon unlocks the heavy oak door of a brownstone walk-up and pushes it open, the space inside is exactly what Yoongi expected: a perfect synthesis of its inhabitants.Â
One wall is lined floor-to-ceiling with booksâeverything from philosophy to art historyâwhile the opposite side boasts a sleek, massive entertainment center cluttered with various consoles. The furniture is mid-century modern, expensive, but covered in soft throw blankets that scream ânestingâ.
âShoes off, please,â Jungkook chirps, kicking off his combat boots and sliding into a pair of bunny-shaped slippers. He gestures to a basket of guest slippers. âGrab a pair. The floor is heated.â
âHeated floors,â Jimin coos, toeing off his loafers and stepping onto the warm wood. âYoongi hyung, we need heated floors.â
âWe live in a third-floor walk-up, Min,â Yoongi reminds him dryly, though he dutifully accepts the slippers Jungkook offers. He shrugs off his cardigan, revealing the white button-up underneath, the material sheer enough to hint at what lies beneath, and catches Namjoon watching the movement with appreciation.
âDrinks?â Namjoon offers, moving toward a bar cart that looks like it belongs in a speakeasy. âI have Japanese whiskey that I think fits your profile, Yoongi. And maybe a peach liqueur for Jimin?â
âYou clocked us fast,â Jimin grins, wandering over to inspect a stack of art books on the coffee table.
âIâm observant,â Namjoon murmurs, pouring the amber liquid over a large ice sphere. He hands the glass to Yoongi, their fingers brushingâa spark of static and intent jumping between them.Â
Meanwhile, Jungkook has already flopped onto the plush rug in front of the TV, patting the space beside him. âJimin-ssi! Come on. I promised to destroy Yoongi, but I need a warm-up round. You versus me. Mario Kart.â
Jimin laughs, abandoning the books to join Jungkook on the floor. âYouâre on, Kookie. But I warn you, I play dirty.â
âIâm counting on it,â Jungkook shoots back with a wink that makes Jimin flush.Â
Yoongi takes a sip of whiskeyâitâs excellent, smooth and smokyâand leans his hip against the back of the sofa, looking down at the two younger men bickering over character selection. Namjoon comes to stand beside him, resting his hand on the sofa back and leaning into it, mirroring Yoongiâs stance.
âThey get along well,â Namjoon notes quietly, watching as Jungkook giggles at Jiminâs aggressive driving style on the screen.
âJimin adapts quickly,â Yoongi agrees, swirling his glass. âHe likes bright, energetic things. Jungkook shines like a supernova.â
âHe does,â Namjoon agrees warmly. He turns his head, his gaze dropping to Yoongiâs lips, then back up to his eyes. âAnd you? What do you like, Yoongi?â
Yoongi holds the gaze, the air between them thickening. He takes a slow step closer, invading Namjoonâs personal space with a confidence that defies their height difference.
âI like control,â Yoongi admits, his voice a low rumble. âI like intelligence. And I like watching my partner fall apart for someone who deserves him.â
Namjoonâs pupils blow wide. He sets his glass down on the side table with a decisive clink, abandoning the pretense of casual hosting.Â
âIs that so?â Namjoon murmurs. He reaches out, his large hand cupping Yoongiâs jaw, thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. âWell, I think we can arrange that.â
On the screen, a colorful explosion signals the end of the race.
âI won!â Jungkook cheers, throwing his arms up.Â
âOnly because you threw a blue shell at the last second!!â Jimin protests, laughing as he shoves Jungkookâs shoulder.Â
âA win is a win!â Jungkook beams, turning to look back at the sofaâonly to freeze.
Namjoon is leaning over Yoongi, their faces inches apart, the tension between them palpable enough to cut with a knife. Yoongiâs hand is fisted in the lapel of Namjoonâs coat, pulling him down.Â
Jungkookâs breath hitches. âHyung?â
Namjoon breaks eye contact with Yoongi just long enough to look down at his boyfriend. The hunger in his expression is raw and open.Â
âGame over?â Namjoon asks, his voice rough.
Jungkook swallows hard, his eyes darting between the two men standing and Jimin, who has gone very still on the floor beside him, watching with wide, dark eyes.Â
âYeah,â Jungkook breathes, scrambling up to his knees. âYeah. Game over.â
Jimin scrambles up, too, abandoning the controller. He walks over to Yoongi, but instead of hiding behind him, he steps right into the space between Yoongi and Namjoon. He looks up at Namjoon, then tilts his head back to look at Yoongi.
âI think,â Jimin whispers, his hand sliding up Namjoonâs chest to rest over his heart, âweâre ready for the merger now.â
Namjoon smilesâa wolfish, satisfied thing. He captures Jiminâs hand, kisses the knuckles, and then pulls both Jimin and Yoongi toward the hallway leading to the bedroom.Â
The transition from the heated wood floors of the hallway into the cooler air of the primary bedroom is palpable. The bedroom is as meticulously curated as the living room, dominated by a low-profile king-sized bed dressed in smooth, dark charcoal linens. The vast space feels almost cavernous, illuminated only by the city's glow filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which casts long, cinematic shadows that stretch across the floorboards.Â
Jungkook doesnât hesitate. The moment Jimin clears the door, Jungkook hooks an arm around his waist and tugs him hard across the expanse of the room toward the bed. They tumble onto the edge in a tangle of long limbs and breathless laughter, the sudden chill of the cool charcoal sheets a stark contrast to the heat radiating between their bodies.Â
The laughter is a bright, fizzy thing that quickly morphs into something softer, wetter, and infinitely more urgentâthe breathless slide of lips pressing together. Jiminâs hands find their way to Jungkookâs broad shoulders, his fingers sinking into the heavy, rough cotton of his oversized black hoodie as the kiss deepens. He uses the thick fabric to anchor himself as he drags Jungkook closer. Jiminâs focus narrows to the sweet taste of Jungkookâs mouth and the soft, insistent pressure of his body against his own.Â
Across the room, Namjoon remains by the heavy oak door, the definitive click of the latch sealing them inside. Bridging the physical distance from the shut door to the tangled pair on the bed, Yoongi stands in the center of the room. The ambient city light cuts across his shoulders, illuminating the crisp lines of his white Oxford shirt. He watches Jimin for a momentâwatching the way his partner melts under Jungkookâs eager handsâbefore turning his gaze to Namjoon.Â
âYou have a nice view,â Yoongi comments, his voice rougher than usual.
âI do now,â Namjoon replies. He walks over to Yoongi, his movements unhurried, predatory in their grace. He stops just shy of touching him, letting the heat radiating off his body do the talking.Â
âYou said you like watching your partner fall apart,â Namjoon murmurs, reaching out to hook a finger in the collar of Yoongiâs Oxford shirt. âIs that what you want right now? To watch?â
Yoongiâs eyes flicker to the bed. Jimin has been pushed back against the pillows, his head thrown back, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat as Jungkook kisses his jawline. Jiminâs eyes are fluttering shut, a soft, keen escaping his lips. He looks beautiful. He looks entirely taken care of.
âHeâs in good hands,â Yoongi says quietly. âJungkook is⌠enthusiastic.â
âHe is,â Namjoon agrees, stepping closer until his chest brushes Yoongiâs. âWhich leaves you and me with a little free time.â
Namjoon steps closer, closing the final inch until the heavy wool suit jacket brushes against Yoongiâs chest. His hand slides from the cotton collar to tangle in the dark hair at the nape of Yoongiâs neck, grounding him.
âI want to see the dangerous one unravel,â Namjoon whispers, his breath ghosting over Yoongiâs ear. âI want to see if the man who holds all the cards knows how to fold.â
Yoongi shivers, a full-body reaction that he doesnât bother to hide. He reaches up, his hands finding purchase on Namjoonâs waist, gripping the fabric of his shirt beneath the wool jacket.
âYou talk a big game, Architect,â Yoongi challenges, though his voice is breathless. âShow me your blueprints.â
Namjoon chuckles darkly against his skin. âFirst step: demolition.â
He captures Yoongiâs lips in a kiss that is demanding, searing, and authoritative, tasting sharply of the Japanese whiskey they shared earlier. Yoongi groans low in his throat, his mouth opening readily, his earlier composure fracturing under the sheer weight of Namjoonâs dominanceâthe first structural wall coming down.
On the bed, the sound of their kiss seems to spur the others on.
âHyung,â Jungkook whines, pulling back from where heâs been nuzzling Jiminâs neck to look at the older pair with blown pupils. âYou guys take forever! Get over here!â
Namjoon breaks the kiss but doesnât pull away from Yoongi. He looks over his shoulder at his boyfriend, his lips swollen and shiny.Â
âWeâre just establishing the ground rules, bun,â Namjooon deflects, his voice dropping an octave. He turns back to Yoongi, running a thumb over Yoongiâs bottom lip. âYoongi-ah, why donât you go show Jungkook how the seniors play?â
Yoongi blinks, dazed, before the command registers. A slow smirk returns to his face. He steps back from Namjoon, unbuttons his shirt, strips it off in one fluid motion, letting the white cotton pool on the dark floor. âGladly,â Yoongi purrs.
He walks toward the bed, where Jungkook watches him with awe, and Jimin watches him with pure, unadulterated love.Â
âMake room,â Yoongi commands softly.
He crawls onto the mattress, his movements deliberate and prowling. Jungkook, currently lying flat on his back, eagerly spreads his legs to accommodate him. Yoongi settles his weight between Jungkookâs thighs, effectively pinning the younger man, but turns his attention to Jimin, who is curled up at Jungkookâs side, watching with wide eyes.
Yoongi reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jiminâs forehead. âI believe I promised to show you a good time, didnât I, Minnie?â
Jimin nods frantically, leaning into the touch, his hand resting on Jungkookâs chest. âYes, hyungâŚâ
âAnd you,â Yoongi says, shifting his gaze down to Jungkook beneath him. The younger man is practically vibrating with anticipation, his hands gripping the dark sheets with white-knuckles. Yoongi smirks, leaning down until their noses brush.
âYou have so much energy,â Yoongi murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, rough timbre. âAlways rushing to the finish line.â
Yoongi lowers his hips, grinding down slow and heavy, drawing a broken gasp from Jungkook.
âBut tonight,â Yoongi whispers against his lips, âyou donât move until I tell you to. Just breathe and feel. Understood?â
âUnderstood,â Jungkook manages to choke out, his hands unclamping from the sheets to rest tentatively on Yoongiâs waist. He stares up at the older man like heâs seeing a deity, his chest heaving with the effort to obey the command to just breathe.Â
Namjoon doesnât just watch anymore. He sheds his coat and unbuttons his cuffs with calculated efficiency before climbing onto the opposite side of the bed, moving toward Jimin. Jimin gasps as Namjoonâs large, warm arm wraps around his waist from behind, pulling his cream knit turtleneck flush against Namjoonâs broad chest.
âYou have a front-row seat,â Namjoon murmurs into the shell of Jiminâs ear, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through Jiminâs spine. He runs his large hands down the sides of Jiminâs waist, slipping beneath the hem of the thick knit to map the hot skin underneath. Jimin shudders as Namjoon peels the soft turtleneck up and over his head, discarding it to join the growing pile of shed layers on the floor.Â
âBeautiful,â Namjoon praises, mapping out his new foundation.
Jimin shivers, the cool ambient air of the cavernous bedroom brushing against his newly bared skin before he leans back instinctively into the encompassing, heavy warmth of Namjoonâs solid frame. He feels small in the best way possibleâsandwiched between the raw, electric energy of Jungkook and Yoongi in front of him, and Namjoon behind him.
âI⌠Iâve never seen him like this with anyone else,â Jimin confesses breathlessly, his eyes still glued to the way Yoongi is tracing the line of Jungkookâs collarbone with renewed focus. âUsually, Iâm the one heâs handling.â
âHeâs good at it,â Namjoon notes, pressing a kiss to the slope of Jiminâs shoulder. âHe knows exactly how much to give and how much to hold back. Jungkook needs that. He needs an anchor.â
Namjoonâs large hand slides up Jiminâs stomach, resting flat over his heart, which is beating a mile a minute.Â
âAnd you, Jimin-ah?â Namjoon asks, turning Jiminâs face gently with his other hand so he can look him in the eye. âDo you need an anchor? Or do you need something else?â
Jimin looks at Namjoonâreally looks at him. He sees the sharp intelligence and the patience, but also that same wolfish hunger Namjoon had shown in the living room.
âI donât know,â Jimin whispers, honestly. âI think I just need⌠more.â
Namjoon smiles, and itâs dazzling. âMore is my specialty.â
He leans in, capturing Jiminâs lips in a slow, luxurious kiss that contrasts perfectly with the sharp, heavy tension radiating from the other pair just inches away. Itâs deep and exploring, tasting faintly of the dark chocolate Namjoon had earlier laced with hints of the spice of Japanese whiskey.
Across the few inches of space separating them, Yoongi glances up from where heâs teasing Jungkookâs earlobe with the tip of his tongue. He meets Namjoonâs eyes over Jiminâs shoulder.Â
A silent communication passes between themâapproval, acknowledgment, and a mutual agreement that this, right here, is exactly where they are supposed to be.
Yoongi leans down, whispering against Jungkookâs neck, âLook at them, Kook-ah. Look at your boyfriend taking care of mine.â
Jungkook turns his head, eyes hazy, to see Namjoon holding Jimin, kissing him with a tenderness that makes Jungkookâs chest ache in a good way. A whimper of pure want escapes him. Even overstimulated, the environmental designer in him marvels at the composition. He spent years meticulously crafting the look and feel of complex digital worlds, but watching Namjoon build this exact momentâthe four of them fitting together flawlessly in this momentâfeels like existing inside a masterpiece.
âItâs⌠itâs good,â Jungkook slurs, his hand tightening on Yoongiâs hip. âEveryone fits.â
âYeah,â Yoongi agrees, finally closing the distance to press a kiss to Jungkookâs lips, sealing the deal.Â
The kiss is deep and languid, tasting of whiskey and coffee. Itâs claiming, thorough, and possessive, and Jungkook melts under it completely, his hands sliding up to tangle desperately in Yoongiâs dark hair. The scent of Yoongiâs cologneâsandalwood, lavender, and citrusâfills his senses, grounding him in the chaotic heat of the moment.
Yoongi breaks the kiss only to drag his lips down the column of Jungkookâs throat, finding the sensitive pulse point that flutters wildly against his mouth.
âYouâre so responsive,â Yoongi murmurs against the skin, smiling when Jungkookâs hips buck instinctively upward, seeking friction. Yoongi presses him back down, controlling the rhythm, keeping it slow and agonizing. âI can feel everything youâre thinking, Jungkook-ah. Youâre loud even when youâre quiet.â
âHyung, please,â Jungkook gasps, his head tossing back into the pillows. He looks over at Namjoon, eyes glassy and pleading. âJoonieâŚâ
âYoongi knows what heâs doing, baby,â Namjoon answers, his voice rough with restraint. âLet him work.â
Namjoon shifts his attention back to the man in his arms. âYouâre even prettier when youâre undone, Jimin-ah.â
Jimin, usually so composed, so aware of his angles and his charm, feels completely unmoored. Being held like thisâwrapped in Namjoonâs size, with Yoongi dominating the space just inches awayâis sensory overload.
âI donât⌠I donât know where to look,â Jimin whispers, his voice trembling. âItâs too much.âÂ
âLook at them,â Namjoon commands gently, guiding Jiminâs gaze back to the other side of the bed. âAnd then feel me.â
Namjoon leans forward, pressing his chest against Jiminâs back, eliminating any space between them. He kisses the sensitive spot just behind Jiminâs ear, while one hand slides down to undo the button of Jiminâs trousers.Â
At the same time, Yoongi sits up, straddling Jungkookâs hips fully. He strips off his own jeans, kicking them away with an impatient flick of his ankle. Skin meets skin, hot and electrifying. Yoongi leans forward, bracing his hands on the pillow on either side of Jungkookâs head.
âJungkook,â Yoongi says, his voice commanding focus.
Jungkook snaps his eyes to Yoongiâs.
âTell me you want this,â Yoogi demands softly. âTell me you want us here.â
âI do,â Jungkook cries out, the sound wrecked and honest. âI want you. I wantâI want everyone. Please, Yoongi-ssi⌠Hyung⌠donât stop.â
Yoongiâs expression softens, just a fractionâa reward for the obedience. âGood boy.â
He leans down, abandoning the slow pace for something harder, grinding down with a friction that drags a loud, sharp moan from Jungkookâs throat.
The sound acts like a catalyst. Behind Jimin, Namjoon groans, his restraint snapping. His hands grow more urgent as he explores Jimin with a hunger that matches the frantic energy on the bed.Â
âYou hear that?â Namjoon growls against Jiminâs neck. âThatâs the sound of everything falling into place.â
Jimin closes his eyes, letting his head fall back onto Namjoonâs shoulder, surrendering to the sensation of Namjoonâs hands on him and the sound of his partner unraveling for another man. It is chaotic, it is intense, and for the first time in a long time, it feels perfectly complete.
Namjoon turns Jimin in his arms, capturing his mouth in a kiss that is startlingly possessive. Itâs different from Yoongiâs calculated, searching intensity; Namjoon kisses with a sweeping, encompassing warmth that demands total surrender.Â
Jimin makes a small, desperate sound against Namjoonâs lips, his hands clutching at Namjoonâs broad shoulder to keep himself upright. He feels engulfed, surrounded by the scent of expensive cologne and arousal, and itâs heady.Â
âCome here,â Namjoon murmurs, breaking the kiss to nip at Jiminâs lower lip. âWeâre too far away.â
He doesnât have to guide Jimin far; he just shifts their weight, pulling Jimin down until they slide closer to the center of the bed.
Yoongi pauses his rhythm, sitting up, straddling Jungkookâs hips. His chest is heaving, a sheen of sweat already making his pale skin glow in the dim city light, contrasting with the flush rising on Jungkookâs chest. He looks up as Namjoon shifts Jimin closer, his dark eyes tracking the way Namjoonâs large hand spans the entire width of Jiminâs waist.
âRoom for two more?â Namjoon asks, his voice dropping to an even lower pitch. He presses Jimin down into the pillows beside Jungkook, the cool, crisp texture of the charcoal linens a stark contrast to the heat of the bodies pressing together. Namjoon arranges Jimin with a calculated precision, handling him like a precious thing he intends to thoroughly unravel.
âAlways,â Yoongi answers, his voice gravelly. He shifts, sliding off Jungkookâs lap. He taps Jungkookâs thigh. âBut first, we have too many layers.â
Jungkook, hazy but eager, nods. He kicks off his pants as Yoongi helps shimmy them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. Yoongi makes quick work of his own boxers, tossing them aside to join his pile of clothes.
On the other side, Namjoon is efficient. He unbuckles his belt and sheds his trousers and boxers in one fluid motion before turning his attention to Jimin. With gentle, large hands, he helps Jimin peel off his unbuttoned trousers, leaving him bare.
âBetter,â Namjoon murmurs, eyeing the expanse of skin now available to him.
He pulls the naked Jimin back against his chest, spooning him perfectly. Yoongi mirrors the position behind Jungkook.
âThis,â Namjoon says, his voice vibrating against Jiminâs spine as he runs a hand down Jiminâs ass and leg, his fingers splaying over Jungkookâs hip to effectively connect the entire chain. âThis is the balance I was talking about.â
Yoongi leans over Jungkookâs shoulder, his eyes meeting Namjoonâs across the tangled pile of their partners. He reaches out, his hand clasping Namjoonâs forearm where it rests over Jungkookâs head.
âItâs solid,â Yoongi agrees. He leans in, biting lightly at the sensitive cord of Jungkookâs neck while his thumb strokes the inside of Namjoonâs wrist. âStructural integrity is holding,â calling back to their earlier architecture joke.
Namjooon chuckles, the sound dark and low. âThen I suppose we can proceed with the stress test.â
He shifts his hips forward, pressing the hard ridge of his arousal firmly against Jiminâs ass, the hardened length slotting perfectly between his firm globes. At the same time, he uses his free hand to hook under Jiminâs top knee, lifting it slightly to press their bodies even closer together, eliminating any remaining space.
Jimin gasps, the friction sudden and electric against his skin. His head falls back against Namjoonâs shoulder.
âOh god,â Jimin chokes out, his fingers digging into Jungkookâs bicep tight enough to bruise. âNamjoon-ah⌠youâre soâŚâ
âBig?â Yoongi supplies helpfully from the other side, smirking against Jungkookâs shoulder. âI noticed.â
âFocus, Min Yoongi,â Namjoon warns, though heâs smiling against the sweat on Jiminâs neck. âOr Iâll have to remind you whoâs supervising this project.â
âIâd like to see you try,â Yoongi challenges. But he turns his attention back to the man in his arms, sliding his hand down to cup Jungkookâs hardening length through the cotton of his briefsâthe only remaining piece of clothing amongst the four of them.
âJust focus,â Namjoon warns, though heâs smiling. He reaches out with his free hand, blindly opening the drawer of the nightstand to retrieve a bottle of lube. âWe donât rush the foundation.â
Jungkook whimpers as Yoongi squeezes him, but Yoongi pauses, looking over his shoulder to watch Namjoon.
Namjoon coats his fingers, warming the viscous liquid first. He presses his chest flush against Jiminâs back, whispering into his ear, âRelax for me, Jimin-ah. Let me make space for myself.â
Jimin shudders, nodding frantically against the pillow. He unclenches his muscles, trusting Namjoon implicitly as Namjoonâs hand slips between his thighs. Namjoon is thorough and patient, his fingers working the lube in, stretching Jimin slowly until the smaller man is pliable and gasping soft, wet sounds of approval.
âGood,â Namjoon praises, feeling Jimin open up for him. âPerfect fit.â
Only then does Namjoon shift his hips. He guides himself in slowly, inch by inch, filling Jimin completely. Jimin cries outâa sharp, high sound that is immediately swallowed by the crisp linen of the pillowâbefore melting back against Namjoonâs chest, overwhelmed by the feeling of being completely full.
âOkay?â Namjoon murmurs, kissing the sweat on Jiminâs temple.
Namjoon obliges, beginning a slow, deep rhythm that rocks the entire bed.
Yoongi, having watched the entire process with dark, dilated pupils, turns back to Jungkook with renewed intensity.
âSee?â Yoongi murmurs, stripping Jungkookâs briefs off in one swift motion to leave him bare. âThatâs how you take care of something precious.â
Jungkook arches his back with a sharp, broken cry as Yoongiâs hand wraps around his bare cock, slick with pre-cum. âToo muchâhyung, itâs too muchââ!â
âTake it,â Yoongi orders, his voice brooking no argument. He begins to move his hand in rhythmic, unforgiving strokes, matching the slow, deep thrusts Namjoon has established inside Jimin, slotting his own cock between Jungkookâs cheeks. âYou wanted everyone, didnât you? You have to handle us.â
Jimin, overwhelmed by the sensation of Namjoon deep inside him and Jungkook clinging to him from the front, turns his head, seeking Namjoon blindly. Namjoon meets him halfway, capturing his lips in a deep, devouring kiss.
âGood,â Namjoon praises into the kiss, feeling Jimin tremble around him. âThatâs it. Fall for me.â
The room dissolves into a haze of rhythmic motion and heavy, damp heat.
Namjoon sets a pace that is punishingly slow. He doesnât snap his hips or rush; he grinds forward with the inexorable force of a tide, burying himself to the hilt with every thrust and then withdrawing just as agonizingly slowly. It leaves Jimin completely wrecked, his head thrashing against the pillow, his mouth open in a silent keen.
âStay with me,â Namjoon murmurs against the shell of Jiminâs ear, his voice rough with effort. He runs his hand down Jiminâs sweaty, toned abdomen, his palm pressing flat over Jiminâs navel to hold him in place against the onslaught. âDonât drift away yet.â
Jimin sobs, a wet, broken sound. He buries his face in the pillow, but his hands seek purchase, clutching blindly at the person in front of him. He finds Jungkookâs shoulders, his nails digging into the muscle.
Jungkook is struggling to survive his own torment. Trapped between Jiminâs seeking hands and Yoongiâs relentless grip, he is overstimulated to the point of delirium. Yoongi isnât just stroking him; heâs edging him, his hand moving tight, slick twists over the sensitive head of Jungkookâs cock, bringing him to the precipice and then stopping abruptly, only to start again a second later.
âHyung,â Jungkook whines, his hips bucking back against Yoongiâs groin, seeking friction, seeking release. âLet meâplease, I needââ
âNot yet,â Yoongi breathes, nipping sharply at the sensitive skin of Jungkookâs nape. He tightens his grip, turning his wrist to drag his thumb over the slit, wringing a strangled cry from the younger man. âWe wait for them.â
Yoongi looks up, his dark eyes locking with Namjoonâs over the tangle of their partners. Namjoonâs face is tight with pleasure, sweat dripping from his temple, but he nodsâa microscopic dip of his chin.
âTell him,â Namjoon grunts, thrusting deep and hitting that sweet spot inside Jimin that makes the smaller manâs toes curl.
âYou hear that?â Yoongi whispers to Jungkook, sliding his free arm under Jungkookâs waist to pull him flush against his own chest. âNamjoon-ssi says we wait. So be a good boy and hold it.â
Jungkook shudders, tears of frustration and pleasure pricking his eyes. He presses his forehead against Jiminâs, seeking comfort in their shared helplessness.
âJimin-ssi,â Jungkook gasps, their noses brushing. âHelp.â
Jimin forces his eyes open, his vision swimming. He sees Jungkookâs flushed face, the raw need in his expression. It mirrors his own.
âItâs okay,â Jimin pants, shifting his legs to tangle them with Jungkookâs, creating more friction in the center of the bed. He reaches up, cupping Jungkookâs cheek with a trembling hand. âJustâŚfocus on me. Look at me.â
Namjoon groans at the shift in Jiminâs body, his muscles clamping down around him tight and hot. He abandons his slow pace, his control slipping. He drives into Jimin harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin becoming the loudest sound in the room.Â
âFuck,â Namjoon hisses. He grabs Jiminâs hip, bruisingly tight, anchoring him as the intensity increases. âYou feel so good. So tight.â
The change in tempo sends a shockwave through the group. Yoongi feels the shift and matches it instantly. He stops teasing and starts pumping his hand in earnest, a fast, slick rhythm that matches the snap of Namjoonâs hips.Â
âNow,â Yoongi growls into Jungkookâs ear. âNow you move.â
Jungkook cries out, his head thrown back against Yoongiâs shoulder, his hips snapping forward into the touch. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot, and terrifying. He clings to Jimin, his nails scraping down Jiminâs sides.
âTogether,â Namjoon commands, his voice straining. He leans forward, biting down on Jiminâs trapezius muscle, claiming him. âEveryone together.â
Jimin is weeping now, soft, happy sounds of pure overwhelm. He feels Namjoon expanding inside him, feels Jungkook vibrating against him, feels the heavy, solid weight of Yoongi shielding them all.
âI canâtâI canât hold it!â Jungkook screams, his body bowing like a drawn bowstring.
âDonât hold it,â Yoongi orders, stroking faster, faster. âLet go, Kook-ah. Give it to us.â
Across the bed, Namjoon finally finds his release. He groans, a deep, animalistic sound, and buries his face in Jiminâs neck, thrusting one final, ruinous time and holding himself there, pouring himself into Jimin.Â
The sight of Namjoon unraveling is the last straw for the others.
Jungkook shatters. He comes with a loud, sobbing cry, his release spurting hot over his own stomach and staining the sheets between them. Yoongi rides the aftershocks, pressing a kiss to the back of Jungkookâs head as he finds his own release, grinding his hips against Jungkookâs ass with a harsh exhale.
Jimin, squeezed between the sudden stillness of Namjoon and the trembling aftershocks of Jungkook, feels his own climax hit him like a rogue wave. He clenches around Namjoon, crying out as the pleasure rolls through him to join the mess Jungkook already created between them, leaving him boneless and gasping for air.
Silence falls over the room, heavy and sweet.
For a long time, the only sound is the ragged breathing of the four men trying to remember how to exist as separate entities.
Eventually, Namjoon stirs. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the sweat-dampened hair at Jiminâs name, then lifts his head to look across the pile.
Yoongi is resting his chin on Jungkookâs shoulder, his eyes half-lidded but focused on Namjoon.
âStructural integrity?â Namjoon asks, his voice wrecked and raspy.
Yoongiâs lips quirk into a tired, satisfied smirk. He tightens his arm around Jungkook, who is currently drifting in a blissed-out haze.Â
âť Ein Goldene Versprechen
âł Rumpelstiltskin!Taehyung x Miller'sDaughter!f.Reader
⤠Grimm Fairytale Rumpelstiltskin Reimagined/Retelling AU
⤠Trickster/Maiden | angst, eventual smut
⤠Rating: MA
⤠WC: ~4,144 (ongoing)
⤠Summary: Drunken words turned ill-fated. Cast into a tower room filled with straw by the mad king, you have until morning to spin every stalk to gold lest you be met with the kiss of death when the sun rises. A bargain offered, a debt accruedâwhat price are you willing to pay for a golden promise?
â ď¸mild language, threats of violence, sick parent, drunkard parent, lies, deception, more to come!
Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.
Part 1: An It Is A What
Part 2: The Power of A Name (coming soon)
Story is in progress.
A/N: This is written for the @bangtanwritershq 4th Quarter Writing Event, Fairytales of Grimm: Lost In The Magic Shop
A/N: Thank you to @lo1k-diamonds & @downbad4yoongi for encouraging me to not give up on writing this and for their unfailing beta services!
Can also be found on:Â Ao3Â |Â Wattpad
â Â Back to Main Master List
ÂŠď¸ Â 2025-12 ColorMePurplex2
đşWarnings: threat of violence, guns, hurt/comfort, smut, kissing, handjob
Summary: Maybe walking into the wolf's den wasn't the worst decision Taehyung could have made after all.
Cross-posted to AO3.
The warning tape is bright yellow, a harsh, synthetic stripe cutting through the muted greys and whites of the forest. It is ugly. It offends Taehyungâs eyes.
He stands on the safe side of the path, his breath clouding the lens of his camera, which he was holding just below his chin. The locals call this stretch the âBlack Forest,â not because of some fairytale whimsy, but because the trees grow so thick they choke out the light, and because cell phone reception dies the moment you step past the gravel shoulder. It is a dumping ground for rusted appliances and, if the rumors are true, things that were once alive.
Taehyung should turn back. His fingers are already numb inside his gloves. But then he sees it.
Something improbable. Twenty yards past the warning tape, amidst a tangle of dead brambles and dirty snow, something is blooming. It is a camellia, shocking and violent red, surviving in a landscape that wants it dead.
Taehyung doesnât think. He doesnât check for unstable ground. He simply ducks under the yellow barrier tape.
The snow is deeper here, swallowing his ankles, soaking his socks instantly. He moves with the singular tunnel vision of an addict. He needs to capture the composition being gifted to him by nature itself: the red flower, the white snow, the deep, black shadows of the pines.
He raises the camera, framing the shot. He adjusts the focus, blurring the background to make the red petals pop, creating a perfect isolated world in the viewfinder.
Click.
The mechanical click of the shutter breaks the forest's silence like a thick slab of ice cracking on a frozen lake.
Taehyung lowers the camera to check the display, satisfied with the capture. Then he looks up, his eyes naturally drifting back to the background he just blurred out.
Fifty yards away, the shadows are moving.Â
Two men stand by a black SUV that has been driven off-road, wheels caked in mud. Instead of hiking through the serene winter landscape, they are engaged in a grim task, their shovels biting into the chilled earth. The soil they turn over is fresh and dark against the snow. And on the ground beside them, wrapped in a blue tarp, is a shape that is unmistakably, horrifyingly human.
One of the men stops digging. He turns his head, looking straight at the splash of color in the bramblesâstraight at Taehyung, his eyes locking in on his dark, red hair sticking out from underneath his hat.
Taehyung freezes. The man reaches into his jacket.
The chase isnât cinematic. It is clumsy and terrified. Taehyung scrambles back, his boots finding no purchase on the slick, frozen mud. He hears a shout behind himâguttural and angryâfollowed by the heavy slam of a car door.
He runs blindly, deeper into the trees, away from the road. Branches whip his face, stinging like lashes, catching on his trench coat, ripping his hat from his head. The camera, swinging wildly around his neck, is a pendulum of dead weight. He slips on a patch of ice, going down hard on his shoulder, the camera slamming hard into the frozen ground, and causing the strap to snap free.
The camera skitters away, sliding down a steep embankment and disappearing into a drift of snow.
Taehyung reaches for itâhis eye, his memory, his proofâbut the sound of crashing footsteps behind him forces him up. He leaves it. He runs until his lungs burn like heâs swallowed glass, until the expensive material of his shirt is plastered to his back with sweat.
He doesnât know how long he runs, but the light begins to fail, turning the words into a monochromatic maze. Just as his legs are about to give out, he breaks through a line of trees and stops dead.
It sits in the throat of the valley like a secret.
The house doesnât look built; it looks grown, straight from the forest. It is a jagged knot of dark timber and grey stone, blending perfectly with the towering pines. To anyone else, the column of white smoke rising from the chimney would be a beacon of warmth. To anyone else, the wall of split logs stacked on the porch would look like winter fuel.
But Taehyung stops, his chest heaving. He sees the way the windows are narrow slits. And the door is made of a thick, heavy wood rather than the standard front door of a cabin in the woods. It looks like a fortress disguised as a shack.
It is terrifying. It is the most beautiful thing he has seen all day.Â
He scrambles down the slope toward the creek that separates him from the door. The water is black and fast. He wades through, gasping as the icy water floods his ruined boots, biting into his skin like teeth. He stumbles up the bank, shivering violently.
He doesnât knock. He canât risk the noise. He tries the handleâlocked, obviouslyâbut the wood around the window frame is old. With a desperate shove, the latch gives way with a splintering crack.
Taehyung tumbles inside, collapsing onto the floorboards.Â
It is quiet inside. Not the silence of an empty house, but the heavy, waiting silence of a held breath.
Taehyung lies on the floor for a moment, waiting for his heart to stop hammering against his ribs. The heat hits him firstâa dry, intense wave radiating from a massive iron stove in the center of the room. It smells of pine resin, gun oil, and cold iron.
He pulls himself up. The room is stark. No rugs, no pictures. Just walls of dark timber and shelves organized with terrifying precision. Canned goods, tools, boxes of ammunition.
Taehyung moves deeper into the room. He should be looking for a weapon or a phone. Instead, he finds himself drawn to a workbench along the far wall.
It is covered in tools, but they arenât scattered. They are aligned perfectly by size. A heavy, rusted saw blade lies in the center, half-cleaned, smelling of solvent.
Taehyung reaches out. He traces the jagged teeth of the saw, fascinated by the contrast of the bright, sharpened steel against the dull orange rust. It is lethal and neglected, all at once.Â
The click of a hammer cocking back is the only warning he gets.
âDo you want to die?â
The voice is low and raspy, coming from the shadows near the door.
Taehyung freezes, his finger still resting on the saw blade. He turns slowly and comes to face a stranger, presumably the cabinâs owner.Â
He is pale, dressed in dark, utilitarian clothes that seem to swallow the light. He holds the shotgun with an ease that suggests it is an extension of his arm. But it is his face that holds Taehyungâs attention. There is a scar cutting vertically through his eyebrow, and his expression is a mask of exhausted, dangerous irritation.
He looks like the woods outsideâcold, unyielding, and alive.Â
The man takes a step forward. The gun doesnât waver. âI asked you a question. You break into my house, you track mud on my floorâŚdo you have a death wish, or are you just stupid?â
Taehyung blinks. The adrenaline is fading, replaced by that strange, floaty detachment that always comes when he finds a perfect subject. He knows he should be begging for his life. He knows he should be terrified.
But the light from the stove is hitting the manâs face, illuminating the sharp angle of his jaw and the dark, abyssal depth of his eyes.Â
Taehyung tilts his head, water dripping from his red hair onto the oiled concrete floor.Â
âYou have interesting eyes,â Taehyung whispers, his voice hoarse. âThey look like the creek outside.â
The man falters. The gun barrel dips, just an inch, as confusion cracks his stoic mask. He looks at the intruderâshivering, soaking wet, bleeding from a scratch on his cheekâand realizes with sinking dread that the boy isnât looking at the gun. He is looking at him, and he isnât afraid.Â
He is captivated.
Yoongi doesnât lower the gun. Not yet.
He stares at the boyâat the water pooling around his ruined boots, at the violent, unnatural shade of his wet hair, and finally at his eyes. There is no pupil dilation. No deceptive tell. The boy isnât lying to buy time. He genuinely thinks Yoongiâs eyes are interesting.
âYouâre in shock,â the man decides, his voice flat. âOr youâre high.â
âIâm cold,â Taehyung whispers. His teeth finally start to chatter, the adrenaline crash hitting him all at once. The tremor starts in his hands and rolls through his body until he is vibrating with it.
He curses under his breathâa sharp, ugly sound. He shifts his grip on the shotgun, flicking the safety back on with a metallic click, but he doesnât put it away. He walks past Taehyung, roughly bumping his shoulder, and checks the window.
Outside, the wind is picking up, thrashing the pines. The snow is falling harder, erasing the footprints Taehyung made on the porch. Thatâs good. But the smokeâŚrealization dawned.
âThe chimney,â the man mutters. He turns back to Taehyung. âStrip.â
Taehyung blinks, sluggish. âWhat?â
âYour clothes. Theyâre wet. Youâre dripping on my floor, and if you freeze to death in my living room, thatâs a body I have to move.â Yoongi gestures vaguely to a narrow door on the other side of the stove. âBathroom is through there. Thereâs a towel. Donât touch anything else.â
Taehyung doesnât argue. He moves like a sleepwalker, shivering so hard his movements are jerky. He fumbles with the buttons of his trench coat, his frozen fingers useless against the stiff, sodden wool.
Yoongi watches him struggle for exactly three seconds before his patience snaps. He leans the shotgun against the workbench and strides closer.
He slaps Taehyungâs hands away and undoes the buttons himself. âStop. Youâre making it worse.â
 He is efficient, clinical. He strips the heavy coat off Taehyungâs shoulders and tosses it onto a clear section of the workbench. Underneath, the boy is wearing a silk shirt that is clinging to his skin like wet tissue paper.
His jaw tightens. Silk. In a blizzard. This boy really is from a different planet.
âGo,â he orders, pointing to the bathroom. âHot water. Five minutes. If you take longer, I turn the boiler off.â
The bathroom is like the rest of the house: cold, slate-tiled, and smelling of bleach.
Taehyung turns the tap. The pipes groan, then shudder, spitting out water that is scalding hot. He hisses as it hits his frozen hands, but he doesnât pull away. He peels off the wet silk, the ruined trousers. He steps under the spray.
It hurts. The heat feels like knives against his skin, waking up nerves that had gone numb miles ago. He leans his forehead against the tile of the shower wall and breathes in the steam.
He watches the water swirl around his feet. It isnât clear.
Rivers of dark, cherry-red water run down his chest, over the tiles, and into the drain. It looks like he is bleeding out. Cheap dye. He had it done yesterday in the city, a whim because he was bored with the grey winter. Now, the hot water is leeching the color out of him.Â
He watches the âbloodâ swirl away, mesmerizing and rhythmic. He forgets to count the minutes.Â
The door bangs open.
Taehyung jumps, slipping on the wet tile. The man stands in the doorway, holding a bundle of grey fabric. He looks at the steam-filled room, then at the floor of the shower.
His eyes widen. For a split second, he is terrified. He sees the red water and thinks he missed a gunshot wound.
âYouâre bleeding,â he says, dropping the bundle. He steps into the steaming shower, fully clothed, grabbing Taehyungâs arm and spinning him around to find the exit wound.
âIâm notââ Taehyung gasps, startled by the rough grip. âHey! Iâm not hurt.â
The manâs hand comes away from Taehyungâs wet shoulder. He looks at his own palm. Itâs stained pink.
He looks up at Taehyungâs hair, which is plastered to his skull in dark, dripping strands.
âItâs hair dye,â Taehyung explains, pushing a wet lock out of his eyes.
The man stares at his own hand, then at the pink grout on his pristine slate floor. The relief in his chest is instantly replaced by a wave of irritation so intense it nearly chokes him.
âRed,â he says, incredulous. âYouâre trespassing in a restricted zone in the middle of winter, and you dyed your hair red?â
âIt looked nice,â Taehyung says defensively, shivering as the draft from the door hits him. âBefore the hat came off.â
The man closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath through his nose, exhaling slowly. He looks like he is praying for patience, or perhaps counting the reasons why he shouldnât drag this intruder back out to the creek.
âGet out,â he says, his voice dangerously quiet. âDry off. Wrap your head in the towel before you stain anything else.â
He kicks the pile of clothes on the floor toward Taehyung.
âPut these on. And if I see one drop of pink water on my couch, Iâm locking you in the cellar.â He stalks out, his wet clothes clinging to his wiry frame.
Taehyung emerges ten minutes later.
He is drowning in the strangerâs clothes. The grey sweatpants are rolled up at the ankles, but they still drag on the floor. The black thermal shirt is tight on his shoulders but hangs loose around his waist. He has wrapped the towel around his head like a turban, catching the red drips.
He looks ridiculous. He looks soft.
The man is sitting at the heavy wooden table, cleaning his shotgun. He has laid out a cloth, a bottle of oil, and a small brush. The smell of solvent is sharp in the warm air.
He doesnât look up when Taehyung enters. âSit. Donât wander.â
Taehyung sits opposite him. He pulls his knees up to his chest, tucking his cold feet into the fabric of the sweatpants. He watches the manâs hands.
They are steady hands. He disassembles the weapon with a rhythm that speaks of muscle memory. Click, slide, snap. He dips the brush in oil and runs it along the barrel.
âYou didnât knock,â the man says, not breaking his routine.
Taehyung rests his chin on his knees. âIâŚI couldnât.â
âThe latch on the window,â the man continues, scrubbing a spot of carbon. âYou forced it. And you came through the creek. Nobody crosses that water unless they have to.â
He stops scrubbing. He looks up, his gaze sharp and calculating. He is putting the pieces together nowâthe ruined expensive shoes, the lack of a car, the sheer panic in the boyâs eyes when he first walked in.Â
âYou arenât a hiker,â the man states. âHikers have gear. You have fashionable boots and a silk shirt.â He sets the brush down. âWho is chasing you?â
Taehyung stiffens. The warmth of the room suddenly feels very far away. âI donât know who they are.â
âDonât lie to me.â
âIâm not.â Taehyung swallows hard. âI took a photo. Of a flower. They were in the background.â
The manâs eyes narrow. âIn the background, doing what?â
âDigging.â
The silence in the cabin stretches, heavy and suffocating. The wood stove ticks as the metal expands. The man looks at the towel wrapped around Taehyungâs head, then at the darkened window behind him.
âDigging a hole,â the man repeated, more to himself than to Taehyung. âIn the Black Forest.â He closes his eyes for a second, rubbing the bridge of his nose. âAnd they saw you?â
âYes.â
âDid you keep the camera?â
âI dropped it.â
The man sighsâa heavy, exhausted sound. âSo you have no evidence. No leverage. And they saw your face.â He opens his eyes, looking pointedly at the red stain seeping into the white towel. âAnd your hair.â
âYes.â
The man picks up a rag and starts wiping down the firing pin. He scrubs hard, his knuckles turning white.
âYouâre a liability,â he says, stating it like a fact about the weather. âYou have no survival instinct. You treat a crime scene like an art gallery. And now youâre sitting in my house, leaking hair dye, waiting for them to track you here.â
Taehyung watches the movement of the rag. âWhy did you let me stay?â
The man stops. He looks at the closed door, heavily bolted. He looks at the snow piling up against the window, sealing them in.Â
âBecause,â the man says, his voice gravelly. âIf I let you out there, you wouldnât have lasted an hour. And I hate wasted things.â
He reassembles the gun with a loud, final clack. He sets it on the table, the barrel pointing away from Taehyung.
âIâm Min Yoongi,â he says, finally offering a name like a weapon he is reluctant to hand over. âYou sleep in the loft. I take the couch. If you hear a car engine, you donât ask questions. You get in the cellar. Understood?âÂ
Taehyung nods. He reaches up, touching the damp towel around his head.
âTaehyung,â he returns. âKim Taehyung.â
Yoongi doesnât answer. He just pours a measure of oil onto the rag and starts scrubbing a spot on the table that isnât really there.
The storm doesnât break. It settles in.
By nightfall, the cabin is no longer just a shelter; it is a capsule buried in white. The wind has stopped howling and started screaming, a high, thin sound that vibrates through the heavy timbers of the walls. Snow is drifting high against the porch, sealing the bottom half of the windows in a wall of ice.
They are trapped.Â
Yoongi moves through the cabin with the restless energy of a caged animal. He checks the deadbolt. He checks the temperature of the stove. He checks the window shutters. Then he does it all again.
Taehyung sits at the table, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket Yoongi pulled from a chest. He hasnât moved for an hour. He is simply watching.
He watches Yoongi open a can of stew with a knife, his movements precise and lethal. He watches Yoongi dump it into a cast-iron pot on the stove. He watches the firelight catch the scar on Yoongiâs eyebrow, turning the ridge of damaged skin into a white line against the flush of heat on his face.
âStop it,â Yoongi blurts, without turning around. He is stirring the stew, the metal spoon scraping loudly against the iron.
âStop what?â
âStaring. Youâre burning a hole in my back.â
âThere is nothing else to look at,â Taehyung says, his voice muffled by the blanket. âThe windows are covered.â
Yoongi turns, leaning his hip against the stove. He crosses his arms, the ladle dripping thick brown gravy back into the pot. âYou could look at the floor. You could sleep. You could worry about the men who want to kill you.â
âI am worried,â Taehyung says. But he doesnât look it. He looks soft, drowned in the grey fabric, his cherry-red hair drying in wild, frizzy waves that halo his head in the firelight. He looks like a prince who has been turned into a pauper and finds the novelty fascinating.
âYouâre not worried enough,â Yoongi counters. He grabs two tin bowls from a shelf and ladles the stew out. He slides one across the table to Taehyung. It slops over the rim, hot and messy. âEat. Itâs not restaurant food, but itâs calories.â
Taehyung pulls a hand out of his blanket cocoon. His fingers are long, elegant, and entirely unsuited for the dented tin spoon. He blows on the steam and takes a bite.
They eat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the wind and the click of spoons. Yoongi eats quickly and efficiently, as if he expects the meal to be interrupted. Taehyung eats slowly, savoring the heat.
âWhy do you live here?â Taehyung asks, breaking the silence. âYou arenât a ranger. You arenât a hunter.â
Yoongi pauses, a piece of potato halfway to his mouth. He looks at the dark timber walls, the barricaded door. âI like the quiet.â
âThatâs a lie,â Taehyung challenges. He points the spoon at the wall of toolsâthe wrenches, the saws, the pristine organization. âYou like control. You live here because out here, nothing happens unless you make it happen. No surprises.
Yoongi sets his spoon down slowly. He looks at Taehyung with a renewed wariness. The boy might be flighty, but he isnât stupid. He notices things.
âAnd you?â Yoongi deflects, his voice low. âYou walked past a warning tape because you saw a flower. You like chaos.â
âI like beauty,â Taehyung corrects. âSometimes they are the same thing.â
âBeauty gets you killed,â Yoongi says harshly. âBeauty is the distraction that lets the predator get close. If you had been looking at the treeline instead of that damn camellia, you would have seen the SUV before they started digging.â
Taehyung considers this. He licks a drop of gravy from his lip, a flash of pink tongue against honeyed skin. Yoongiâs eyes track the movement before he can stop himself.
âIf I had been looking at the treeline,â Taehyung says softly, âI never would have found this house. I would have stayed on the path.â He looks up, locking eyes with Yoongi. âI think the trade was worth it.â
Yoongi stares at him. The air in the cabin suddenly feels very thin, very hot. He stands up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor.
âYouâre done,â Yoongi says, grabbing Taehyungâs half-empty bowl. âGo to the loft. Iâm killing the lights.â
The loft is warmer than the ground floor. Heat rises, pooling in the apex of the roof, trapping the smell of cedar and dry heat.Â
Taehyung lies on the narrow mattress, staring up at the heavy rafters. Yoongi gave him a sleeping bag, a heavy military-grade thing that smells like the rest of the houseâclean, cold, and masculine.
He canât sleep.
Through the gaps in the floorboards, he can see the main room below. The electric lights are off, killed to save the generator fuel. The only light comes from the glass door of the wood stove.
It casts a flickering, orange flow over the room, breathing in and out like a lung.Â
Taehyung rolls onto his stomach, pressing his face near the gap in the wood. He watches.
Yoongi isnât sleeping. He is sitting on the leather couch, facing the door. The shotgun is across his lap. He is perfectly still, his head tipped back against the cushions, eyes open, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling.
He looks lonely. Not the romantic kind of lonely that Taehyung likes to photographâthe solitary figure on a cliff. This is a painful, grinding loneliness. It is the loneliness of a machine that has been left running in an empty room.
Taehyung watches him for a long time. He traces the line of Yoongiâs throat, the tense set of his shoulder. He wonders what it would feel like to touch that scar on his eyebrow. Would the skin be rough? Smooth?
Below, Yoongi shifts. He turns his head, looking up at the ceiling, straight at the gap where Taehyung is watching.
Taehyung pulls back, his heart hammering. He holds his breath.
âI can feel you watching me,â Yoongi's voice drifts up from the dark. It isnât angry. Itâs just tired. âGo to sleep, Taehyung.â
âI canât,â Taehyung whispers back, his voice floating down from the loft. âThe wind is too loud.â
A pause. The fire pops in the stove.
âFocus on the stove,â Yoongi directs. âListen to the tick of the metal. Count the cooling cycles. It drowns out the wind.â
Taehyung rolls onto his back. He listens. Tick. Tick. Tick.
It is a mechanical, steady rhythm. The sound of Yoongiâs world.
âYoongi?âÂ
âWhat.â
âAre you going to sleep?â
âNo.âÂ
âWhy?â
âBecause one of us has to be the wolf,â Yoongi says, the words barely audible over the wind. âSo you can play Red Riding Hood and sleep.â
Taehyung closes his eyes. He pulls the sleeping bag up to his chin, burying his nose in the scent of cedar and gun oil. He listens to the stove. He listens to the silence of the man guarding the door.
For the first time all day, he feels safe.
Morning doesnât bring light. It brings more grey, diffuse gloom that barely penetrates the snow-blocked windows.
The storm has passed, leaving behind a silence so absolute it hurts the ears.Â
Yoongi is already awakeâor he never sleptâwhen Taehyung climbs down the ladder. The stove has been stoked; the coffee pot is percolating on top of the iron plate. The smell is rich and bitter.
âDrink,â Yoongi says, shoving a mug into Taehyungâs hand before his feet even hit the floor. âThen we figure out how to get you out of here.â
Taehyung takes the mug, wrapping his hands around the ceramic warmth. He is wearing the same borrowed clothes, his red hair a chaotic, frizzy mess. âThe road will be blocked.â
âI have a truck. It has chains.â Yoongi moves to the window, peering through a crack in the shutters. âIf we leave now, we can make the highway by noon. I'll drop you off at the police station two towns over. You tell them everything.â
âI donât have proof,â Taehyung reminds him.
âYou have your memory. You can ID the faces.â Yoongi turns, his expression hard. âAnd it gets you out of my house.â
Taehyung looks down into his black coffee. The rejection stings, sharp and sudden. He opens his mouth to argue, to say I donât want to go, but the sound cuts him off.
Crunch.
It is distant, muffled by the snow, but to Yoongiâs ears, it is a thunderclap.
The sound of tires crushing fresh powder.
Yoongi freezes. He goes completely still, his head cocked to the side. âQuiet.â
Taehyung opens his mouth. Yoongi is across the room in a blur. He grabs Taehyungâs arms, his grip bruising, and hauls him away from the ladder, away from the light.
âTheyâre here,â Yoongi hisses, the whisper terrifyingly loud in the silence.
âHow?â Taehyung gasps, stumbling as Yoongi drags him toward the kitchen area. âThe stormââ
âShit,â Yoongi spits. âThe snow stopped an hour ago. They must have found something.â
He drops to his knees in the corner of the room, jamming his fingers into a gap between the wide floorboards. He heaves. A section of the floor groans and lifts, revealing a dark, square hole. The smell of damp earth and rotting potatoes wafts up.
The root cellar.
âGet in,â Yoongi orders.
Taehyung looks into the hole. It is pitch black. âYoongiââ
âNow!â Yoongi shoves him. âGo all the way to the back. Behind the crates. Do not make a sound. Do not breathe too loudly. If they find you, they will kill you. If they find me hiding you, they kill us both.â
The engine noise is louder now. Close. Right on the other side of the creek.
Taehyung scrambles into the hole. The cold earth swallows him. He looks up, panic seizing his throat, catching one last glimpse of Yoongiâs pale, grim face.
âTrust me,â Yoongi whispers.
Then he drops the floorboards back into place.
Darkness slams down on Taehyung. He is utterly alone.
Above him, he hears the heavy, muffled thud of a car door closing. Then footsteps. Heavy boots on the porch stairs.Â
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound vibrates through the floor, shaking dust onto Taehyungâs face. He claps a hand over his mouth, curls into a ball behind a stack of crates, and squeezes his eyes shut.
Taehyung holds his breath until his lungs burn, urging him to take a much-needed breath of air.Â
The darkness of the root cellar is absolute. It smells of wet soil and old burlap, a thick, cloying scent that chokes him. But the terror isnât the smell; itâs the sound.
Every footstep above him sounds like a thunderclap.
The floorboards are thick, but they are old. He can hear the heavy, wet crunch of boots entering the main room. One set. Then two.
âYouâre a hard man to find, Min.â
The voice is unfamiliarâsmooth, corporate, and completely out of place in a wilderness cabin.
âI wasnât hiding,â Yoongiâs voice replies. It is terrifyingly calm. It lacks the rough edge he uses with Taehyung. His voice is flat and cold. âAnd youâre trespassing. State your business and get out.â
âWeâre looking for a boy,â the stranger says. âAbout this tall. Red hair. Wearing a coat that costs more than this house.â
Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands. A tear leaks out, hot and fast, tracking through the dust on his cheek.
âHavenât seen him,â Yoongi says.
âReally? Because we found a camera by the road. And this is the only cabin for ten miles.â
The camera. Taehyungâs stomach drops. He forgot about the camera.Â
âLots of hikers lose gear,â Yoongi says, unimpressed. âDoesnât mean they will come here.â
âMaybe,â the stranger says. âBut I see fresh tracks on your porch, Min. Someoneâs been walking in and out this morning.â
âI live here,â Yoongi counters, smooth as oil. âI went out for wood an hour ago. Unless itâs a crime to walk on my own porch, you have no cause to be here.â
There is silence. A heavy, shifting silence. The stranger knows Yoongi is technically rightâthe tracks belong to Yoongiâbut he is testing the boundaries, seeing if Yoongi will give something away.
Then, a creak.
Someone is walking. The footsteps move away from the door. They are slow, deliberate. Thud. Thud. Thud.
They stop directly above Taehyungâs head.Â
Dust sifts down through the cracks in the planks, landing on Taehyungâs eyelashes. He doesnât blink. He is paralyzed.
âNice place,â the stranger says. âCozy. A bit damp, though.â
The man shifts his weight. The boards groans.
âI didnât invite you in for a tour,â Yoongi snaps. The sound of a shotgun rackingâclack, clackâcuts through the room. âThe snow covered everything last night. If the boy is out there, heâs buried under three feet of powder.â
A pause. The tension in the air above is heavy enough to crush the house.Â
âIf you see him,â the stranger says, his voice dropping an octave, âyou call us. He stole something very dangerous. Heâs a threat toâŚpublic safety.â
âIf I see a trespasser,â Yoongi says, âIâll handle it.â
âI bet you will.â
The weight lifts. The footsteps retreat. The door opens, letting in a gust of wind that whistles through the floorboards, chilling Taehyungâs sweat-drenched skin.
âDrive safe,â Yoongi says.Â
The door slams shut. The lock slides home.
Taehyung stays curled in a ball. He doesnât move when the engine starts. He doesnât move when the sound of the tires fades into the distance. He is frozen, his body locked in a rigor of panic.
Suddenly, light explodes into the cellar.
The floorboards are ripped back. Yoongi stands silhouetted against the grey light of the windows, his chest heaving. He looks wildâwide eyes, hair messy, the shotgun discarded on the table behind him.Â
âTaehyung.â
It isnât a question. Yoongi reaches down, grabs Taehyung by the back of the thermal shirt, and hauls him up.
Taehyung scrambles out, his legs giving way the moment his feet hit the solid floor. He collapses, gasping for air, clutching at Yoongiâs arms to stay upright. He is shaking so hard his teeth rattle.
âThey were right there,â Taehyung chokes out, his voice a broken sob. âThey were right there.â
âTheyâre gone,â Yoongi says. He is gripping Taehyungâs shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle. âBreathe. You're safe.â
âIâm not,â Taehyung gasps. The adrenaline isnât fading; itâs mutating. Itâs turning into something hot and frantic. He feels like heâs going to vomit or scream. âI thought you were going to give me up. I thoughtââ
âI didnât,â Yoongi growls. He gives Taehyung a rough shake. âLook at me. I didnât.â
Taehyung looks up. Yoongiâs face is inches from his. The scar on his brow is stark white against his flushed skin. His eyes are dark and wide with the same adrenaline that is coursing through Taehyung.
The distance between them snaps.
It isnât a romantic decision. It is a biological imperative. They have just survived uncertain danger.
Taehyung surges forward, burying his hands in Yoongiâs shirt, and smashes their mouths together.
It is clumsy. It is violent. It tastes like fear and dust. Yoongi stiffens for a fraction of a second, shocked by the impact, and then he folds.
He makes a low, desperate noise in his throat and grabs Taehyungâs face, kissing him back with a hunger that borders on anger. He pushes Taehyung backward until his hips hit the heavy wooden table, pinning him there.
âYou idiot,â Yoongi murmurs against his mouth, biting at Taehyungâs lower lip. âYou reckless, stupidâŚâ
âShut up,â Taehyung pants, dragging Yoongi closer, tangling his fingers in Yoongiâs hair. âDonât talk.â
He doesnât want words. Words are for lying. He wants thisâthe clash, the heat, the grounding weight of Yoongiâs body pressing the panic out of him. He needs to feel something other than the cold earth of that root cellar.
Yoongi lifts him, rough hands gripping Taehyungâs thighs, hoisting him onto the edge of the table. He steps between Taehyung's legs, pressing flush against him. The contact is electric. The contrast they establishedâthe soft, shivering boy and the hard, unyielding wolfâcollides.
Yoongiâs hands are everywhereâunder the loose thermal shirt, touching the cold skin of Taehyungâs waist, mapping his ribs. His palms are rough, calloused from the workshop, and the scratch of them makes Taehyung arch his back, a gasp tearing out of his throat.
Taehyung is ice cold. The damp chill of the root cellar has seeped into his marrow, making his skin feel like marble. Yoongi, burning with the chemical heat of adrenaline and the stifling warmth of the cabin, hisses at the temperature difference.
âYouâre freezing,â Yoongi mutters against his skin, burying his face in the crook of Taehyungâs neck. He shifts his grip, sliding his hands further around to span Taehyungâs lower back, pressing him relentlessly closer. He is trying to bleed his own heat into the boy, to force the cold out through sheer friction. âLet me warm you up.â
âYoongi,â Taehyung whines, the sound wrecked and needy. He tilts his head back, exposing his throat. âPlease.â
He doesnât know what he is begging forâsafety, oblivion, or just more frictionâbut Yoongi understands.
Yoongi pulls back, his eyes dark and seeking. He looks at Taehyungâat the flushed cheeks, the swollen lips, the cherry-red hair messy and bright against the grey timber of the cabin. He looks at the beautiful, dangerous thing he has trapped in his house.
âOkay,â Yoongi whispers, his voice dropping into a register that makes Taehyung shiver. âOkay.â
He kisses the pulse jumping frantically in Taehyungâs throat, his lips pressing hard against the thin, pale skin. He can feel the blood hammering there, an erratic, terrified rhythm that matches the shaking of Taehyungâs hands. It tastes like salt and dust.
Yoongiâs hands move to the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants. His fingers hook into the elastic, but he doesnât push them down. Not yet. Instead, he slides his palms underneath the fabric, skimming over the sharp jut of Taehyungâs hipbones.
The contact is a shock to the system.
Taehyung gasps, a broken, wet sound. He arches his back, seeking the heat of Yoongiâs palms. The sensation of Yoongiâs calloused fingertipsârough from handling the steel and solvent in his workshopâ scraping against his sensitive skin is overwhelming. It anchors him. It drags him out of the dark, suffocating memory of the cellar and pins him to the bright, sharp reality of the kitchen.
âDonât stop. Please, donât stop,â Taehyung whines, his head falling back, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat.Â
Yoongi doesnât. He pushes the loose thermal shirt up, bunching the fabric under Taehyungâs arms. He needs to see him.
The pale light from the window washes over Taehyungâs chest. He looks wrecked and beautiful. His skin is flushed pink in patches from where Yoongiâs roughened hands handled him, and his cherry-red hair is a messy halo, damp strands sticking to his forehead. He looks like something that has been broken open.
Yoongi drags his mouth up from Taehyungâs throat to his jaw, his teeth grazing the skin, threatening but controlled. He captures Taehyungâs lips again. It is sloppy and deep and starving. Yoongi tastes the copper tang of blood where Taehyung bit down on his own lip too hard in the cellar.
Taehyungâs legs wrap instinctively around Yoongiâs waist, pulling him harder into the cradle of his thighs. The movement knocks a tin cup off the table. It hits the floor with a loud clang, but neither of them flinches. The world has narrowed down to this: the hard surface of the wooden table beneath him, and the heavy, solid weight of the world pressing him down.Â
Yoongi pulls back just an inch, his breathing ragged. He looks at Taehyung with a terrifying intensityâpossessive, angry, and desperate.
âYouâre here,â Yoongi growls, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of Taehyungâs hips, leaving marks that will bruise later. âYou arenât in the ground. Youâre here with me.â
Taehyung reaches up, his trembling fingers tracing the scar on Yoongiâs brow, then tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulls Yoongi back down.
âMake me feel it,â Taehyung whispers against Yoongiâs lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrenders to the heat. âMake me sure.â
Yoongiâs hands are impatient, shoving the grey sweatpants down over Taehyungâs hips. The cold air of the cabin bites at Taehyungâs exposed skin, a sharp, stinging contrast to the fever-heat of Yoongiâs body pressing between his knees.
Taehyung shudders, his breath hitching in his chest. He feels exposedânot just physically, but elementally. He is stripped bare in a room built for survival, open to the wolf who owns it.
âLook at me,â Yoongi demands, his voice a low rasp, roughly grating against Taehyungâs ear. He doesnât wait for compliance; he grabs Taehyungâs chin, forcing his head up. âI need you to see this.â
Taehyungâs eyes flutter open, hazy and dark. He looks at Yoongiâat the sweat beading on his temple, the raw tension in his jaw, his dilated pupils. It isnât a look of tenderness.Â
Yoongi traces the rough tips of his fingers across Taehyungâs pelvis to dip between them, searching until long, skilled fingers wrap around Taehyungâs rigid length. He tries to fight it, but he can't. Taehyungâs eyes slip closed at the same time a moan slips through his swollen lips. He snaps them open again at the stinging reprimand Yoongi leaves with his free hand on his hip.Â
âOw,â Taehyung pouts, hips jerking forward in Yoongiâs grips.
âI said eyes open.â Yoongi smirks. His eyes bore into Taehyungâs, the intensity nearly eclipsing the pleasure his hand was wringing from Taehyungâs throbbing cock. He draws the hand that was wrapped around him between their faces, and arches his scarred brow.
It takes a minute. Taehyungâs eyes take a moment to blink fully back into focus before tilting his head down and spitting in Yoongiâs broad palm.
âGood boy.â Yoongi slips his hand back in between them to grip Taehyungâs aching cock. His grip on Taehyung is firm, but the glide is smoother now as he draws the most delectable sounds from the younger manâs throat.Â
It isnât slow. There isnât time for that. The threat of the Huntsmen still hangs in the dust motes dancing in the light, and their bodies move with the frantic energy of stolen time. Yoongiâs hand moves with punishing rhythmâa hard, steady cadence that drives Taehyung closer with each upward flick of his wrist.
Taehyung arches back, the hard wood of the table digging into the back of his thighs, bruising him. He clings to Yoongiâs shoulders, his nails digging into the heavy canvas of the jacket Yoongi hadnât even bothered to take off. The rough fabric scrapes his palms, another texture in the overwhelming sensory storm.
âYoongi,â Taehyung gasps, the word fracturing on a sob. âYoongi, Iâmââ
âIâve got you,â Yoongi growls, ducking his head to bite the sensitive cord of muscle where Taehyungâs neck meets his shoulder. âYouâre not going anywhere.â
On the next upward snap of his wrist, Yoongi thumbs at the sensitive slit of Taehyungâs cock, sending blinding, white-hot pleasure through Taehyung that makes his toes curl. The detachment that usually protects Taehyungâthe camera lens he puts between himself and the worldâshatters completely. He canât observe this. He can only drown it.
He is crying, he realizes. Not from sadness, but from the sheer, overwhelming relief of being touched, of being held, of being alive.
Yoongi feels the wetness on Taehyungâs cheek. He kisses the tears away, tasting the salt, his movements becoming jagged and desperate. Yoongi grits his teeth, his own cock a burgeoning ache in his pants. He is unraveling, his control snapping under the weight of Taehyungâs need and his own terrifying desire.
âTaehyung,â Yoongi chokes out, his voice wrecked.
The end comes like the storm from the night beforeâviolent and total. Taehyung arches away from the table, a ragged cry from his throat, his body seizing in Yoongiâs arms. He grips Yoongi blindly, his nails biting into rough fabric as he releases all the pent-up fear in a torrent over Yoongiâs fist. Encased in his own haze of pleasure, he hears Yoongiâs harsh groan and feels his body shudder as he follows him over the edge.
For a long moment, the only sound in the cabin is their harsh, synchronized breathing and the ticking of the wood-burning stove.
Yoongi collapses forward, resting his forehead on Taehyungâs shoulder. His weight is heavy, crushing, and perfect. Taehyung wraps his arms around Yoongi's back, burying his face in the rough collar of the jacket. He smells the gun oil, the pine resin, and the sweat.
The cooler air of the cabin begins to creep back in, swirling around their damp skin, but Taehyung doesnât shiver. He feels the heat radiating from Yoongiâs chest, a furnace that burns just for him.
Yoongi lifts his head slowly. He looks at Taehyungâat the swollen lips, the tear tracks cutting through the dust on his cheeks, the wild red hair.
Yoongi reaches out, his hand shaking slightly, and brushes a strand of hair away from Taehyungâs eyes. The gesture is shockingly gentle, at odds with the roughness of the last few minutes.
âYou okay?â Yoongi whispers, his voice rasping.
Taehyung blinks, his eyes struggling to focus. He feels exhausted, hollowed out, and wonderfully, undeniably real.
âYeah,â Taehyung breathes, a small, tired smile touching his lips. âIâm okay.â
The separation is reluctant, but necessary.
Yoongi pulls away first, his movements stiff as he feels the mess he made in his own pants. As he steps back and helps Taehyung straighten up before picking up the discarded sweatpants from the floor. He shakes off the dust before handing them back.Â
He doesnât look at Taehyung before disappearing into the bathroom to clean himself up.Â
The lock clicks. It is a small sound, but in the sudden silence of the cabin, it sounds like a gunshot.
Taehyung is left standing in the middle of the room, clutching the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants. The heat Yoongi left on his skin begins to evaporate, replaced by the biting chill of the drafty room. He pulls the pants up with trembling fingers, feeling suddenly, violently exposed,
He listens to the pipes groan, followed by the hiss of the shower.
The sound is isolating. It reminds him that ten minutes ago, they were strangers on opposite sides of a gun. Now, they areâŚwhat? Survivors? Lovers? Or just two terrified people who needed to feel something other than fear?
Taehyung wraps his arms around himself, sinking onto the edge of the couch and sitting as close to the warm stove as he can to capture some warmth. He feels rawâtenderized by the encounter and vibrating with a strange, buzzing energy that has nowhere to go. He stares at the bathroom door. He wonders if Yoongi is washing Taehyung off.Â
He waits. The minutes stretch out, heavy and suffocating.
When the water finally stops, the silence that follows is worse.
The door opens. Yoongi steps out.
The transformation is absolute. The man who had unraveled in Taehyungâs armsâdesperate, vocal, and needyâis gone. In his place stands the wolf.
Yoongi is fully dressed. He has changed into fresh tactical pants and a heavy black flannel buttoned all the way to his throat. His hair is wet, combed back severely from his forehead. He looks armored. He looks impenetrable.
He moves past Taehyung without making eye contact, his boots heavy on the floorboards, heading straight for the kitchen. He looks like nothing happened.
Taehyung feels a sting behind his eyesâsharp and sudden. It feels like rejection. It feels like the safety he thought he found was just a hallucination brought on by the cold.Â
âYoongi?â Taehyung whispers, the name feeling fragile in the cold air.
Yoongi doesnât turn around. He grabs a duffel bag and starts stripping the shelves of canned goods, his movements jerky and aggressive.
âWe have to move,â Yoongi says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, âTheyâll be back. Not the ones who knocked, but a clean-up crew. Once they verify Iâm not on the payroll anymore, they wonât knock next time.â
âYoongi,â Taehyung says again. The name feels heavy in his mouth now.
Yoongi pauses, a can of mandarin oranges in his hand. He doesnât turn around.
âHe knew your name,â Taehyung presses, stepping closer. The heat between them is still there, a tangible thing, but the fear is creeping back in. âHe called you âMin.â You didnât sound surprised. You soundedâŚresigned.â
Yoongi sets the can down. He leans his hands on the counter, his head hanging low.
I wasnât always a mechanic,â Yoongi says to the sink. âI used to be the guy they called when they needed a problem to stop breathing. Thatâs why they knocked. Professional courtesy.â
Taehyung stares at Yoongiâs back. He looks at the broad shoulders that had just pinned him to a table, the hands that were shockingly gentle, brushing hair from his eyes. He should be horrified. He should be backing away toward the door.
âYou were one of them,â Taehyung realizes, his voice barely a whisper.
Yoongi turns slowly. The harsh light from the window catches the scar on his brow, making it look deeper, more jagged. He looks exhausted.
âI was worse than them,â Yoongi corrects. âBecause I was better at it.â He picks up the duffel bag, his eyes dark and guarded. âAnd now Iâm the only thing standing between you and a shallow grave.
He walks past Taehyung, heading for the door. âGet your things. Weâre leaving.â
Taehyung moves like a ghost through the cabin. He picks up his ruined trench coat from the workbench. It is dry now, but stiff and stained with mud. He puts it on. It feels like armor.
He looks around the room one last time, checking for anything left behind. His eyes land on the table where they had just been and had eaten the night before.
There is a piece of paper there, folded and shoved under the fruit bowl.
Itâs the back of a target sheetâthick, heavy paper Yoongi uses for shooting practice. On the blank side, sketched in pencil, is a drawing.
Taehyung had drawn it the previous evening, during the long, heavy silences. While Yoongi was focused on the oil and metal of his gun-cleaning ritual and later on fixing them a utilitarian dinner, Taehyung had been working too.
It isnât a drawing of the cabin. It is a drawing of the scene from the woods.
Yoongi comes back inside, stomping snow off his boots. âTruckâs ready. Letâsââ
He stops. He sees Taehyung holding the paper.
Yoongi walks over and snatches the drawing from Taehyungâs hand. He looks at it, his eyes narrowing.
âYou drew this?
âI needed to do something with my hands,â Taehyung says quietly. âAnd I couldnât get the image out of my head. The contrastâŚthe way the light hit the shovel.â
Yoongi stares at the sketch. The graphite lines are smudged but precise. He traces a thumb over the face of the digging man. It isnât a generic face. Taehyung, with his obsessive eye for detail, captured the specific slope of the nose, the receding hairline, and a distinct, heavy ring on the left hand.
âThis is him,â Yoongi says. It isnât a question.
âYes. Thatâs the man who saw me.â
Yoongi looks up at Taehyung, a strange mix of disbelief and respect on his face. âYou dropped the camera, but you kept the image.â
He folds the paper carefully, sliding it into his inside jacket pocket.
âWe have a face,â Yoongi says. âWe can ID him. If we know who he is, we know who sent him. Thatâs leverage.â He looks at Taehyung, really looks at him, seeing past the ruined clothes and the red hair. âYour obsession might have just saved our lives.â
Yoongi grabs his keys. âLetâs go. Before they realize I didnât actually go out for wood.â
The drive is a blur of white and grey.
Yoongi drives the way he handles a gunâcontrolled, precise, and dangerous. The truck skids over the icy track, the tires fighting for purchase on the unplowed road, but Yoongi corrects the slide without flinching. His hands are loose on the wheel, reacting to the terrain before the truck even shudders.
Taehyung sits in the passenger seat. He watches the trees whip by. He watches the cabin disappear in the side mirror, swallowed by the pines and heavy drifts of snow.
They hit the main road. The plow hasnât come through yet, leaving a chaotic landscape of ruts and ice.
âWhere are we going?â Taehyung asks, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.
âSafe house,â Yoongi replies, eyes scanning the horizon. âI have a contact in the city. A journalist. She owes me a favor. We give her the sketch, we give her the location of the body. She makes it loud. Once itâs in the news, they canât kill you quietly.â
âAnd you?â Taehyung asks. âWhat happens to you?â
Yoongi tightens his grip on the steering wheel. The knuckles of his right hand are white, the skin around his nails stained with grease.
âI disappear again,â Yoongi says. âSomewhere else. Somewhere warmer, maybe. They know my face now. They know Iâm active.â
Taehyung looks at Yoongiâs profileâthe sharp jaw, the scar cutting through his brow, the stoic set of his mouth. He thinks about the heat of the cabin. He thinks about how Yoongi anchored him to the table when the world was spinning.
âDonât,â Taehyung says.
Yoongi glances at him, a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. âDonât what?â
âDonât disappear.â
Taehyung reaches out. He places his hand on Yoongiâs arm, right over the heavy canvas of his jacket. It is a bold moveâa claim.
âI need a driver,â Taehyung says, echoing the thought he had when he first saw Yoongiâs hands on the wheel. âAnd you need someone to remind you that the world isnât just targets and threats.â
Yoongi looks back at the road. The silence stretches between them, filled only by the roar of the heater and hiss of tires on snow.
For a long time, Yoongi doesnât answer. He just drives, putting miles between them and the Huntsmen.
Then, slowly, Yoongiâs hand shifts on the gear stick. He turns his palm up, brushing his rough fingers against Taehyungâs knuckles. It is a slight touchâa promise.
âWeâll see,â Yoongi says, his voice rough. âLetâs survive the day first.â
Taehyung smiles. He leans back in the seat, watching the white world blur into a streak of light. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
He strayed from the path, and the wolf caught him. And for the first time in his life, he has no intention of running away.
Warnings: angst, competitiveness, pining, kissing, happy ending, love triangle, smut
Banner & Moodboard by: @pars-leyÂ
Thanks to my betas: @moonleeai
Summary: One villa. Two men. No easy choices.
*still in the process of being beta'd
The second the host left, people stood, shook out their nerves, and fanned themselves with loose hands. A few grabbed hands and laughed too loudly, too artificially. The flames in the fire pit snapped and flared, reflected in the gold-rimmed glasses that were already being topped up from a tray someone had placed there during the last speech.Â
âCheers to not getting dumped,â Leo said, holding his glass in the air.
âTo staying sexy,â Yuri added, clinking her glass with Lanaâs.
âTo Hoseok,â Jungkook teased, raising his glass, âfor setting the bar way too high with that kiss.â
Laughter rippled. Hoseok didnât deny it. He just leaned in toward you, voice a low brush near your ear. âWeâre gonna be a problem, you know that?â
You smirked without looking at him, eyes on the fire. âWe already are.â
Across the pit, Jin lifted his drink and tilted it in your direction like a silent toast. No smile. No irony. Just the motion, clean and unreadable. Then he turned, murmuring something to Isla, who touched his arm in that calculated way she did when she knew someone was watching.
From the perimeter, camera lenses turned silently, catching details no one spoke aloud: Hoseokâs hand resting high on your thigh. Jin not reacting. The way Maya glanced toward Namjoonâs mouth when he drank. The way Taehyung didnât glance at Bianca at all, but she leaned closer anyway.
The tension wasnât gone. It had simply put on nicer clothes.
âI need air,â Yuri announced, standing and stretching. âThat was too much tension for such close quarters.â
That broke the spell. Couples stood and drifted off in ones and twos. You and Hoseok hung back for a moment.Â
âYou alright?â he asked sincerely.
âYeah. You?â
He smiled. âI got what I wanted.â His fingers laced through yours again. âLetâs see how long I can keep it.â
You followed him away from the firepit, feeling the weight of Jinâs gaze graze your back, so faint it couldâve been imagined. But you knew it wasnât. You felt the way you feel a thunderstorm in your bones.
Hoseokâs thumb pressed into the curve between your knuckles as you walked away. Behind you, laughter spikedâLana shrieking at something Leo saidâthen blurred into softer sounds as the distance grew between you and the other couples.Â
The pool waited at the bottom of the steps, its black glass illuminated by the villa lights. Hoseok didnât stop until he reached the wide daybed. He dropped down first, shoulders loose, and patted the cushion beside him. When you settled in, he tugged you close without hesitation, his hand sliding up to rest across the bare line of your thigh.
Your lips still tingled from the way heâd kissed you in front of everyone, heat rushing back just remembering it. You shook your head, a half-smile tugging at your lips. âYou donât even flinch, do you? Kissing me like that out there. Touching me like this now.â
Hoseokâs grin curved slowly, dangerously, but enticingly. âWhy would I hesitate? I wanted you. So I took you.â
He leaned back, relaxed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other keeping you anchored against him. For a beat, the world shrank to just the low rumble of his laugh when you nudged him with your knee.Â
Hoseokâs arm tightened slightly, drawing you closer until your thigh pressed fully against his. His skin was warm through the thin linen of his shirt, the scent of himâcologne fading into clean sweat and saltwaterâpulling you closer still.Â
âYouâre really not fazed by all of it, are you?â you asked, keeping your voice low.Â
He angled his head, lips almost brushing your hairline. âAll of what?â
âThe cameras. The firepit. Everyone staring when you kissed me.â You gestured vaguely in front of you.Â
He chuckled, chest shaking against your shoulder. âWhy should I care whoâs staring? I wasnât kissing them.â His thumb slid higher, catching on the hem of your dress before drifting back down. He wasnât rushing, wasnât pushingâjust letting you feel how easily he could.Â
Heat coiled in your stomach. You shifted, half-turning toward him. âYou make it sound so simple.â
âIt is simple,â Hoseok said, finally looking straight at you. His eyes caught the pool light, dark and bright all at once. âI wanted to kiss you, so I kissed you. I want to touch you, so Iâm touching you.â his grin tilted, lazy but wicked. âWant me to stop?â
Your answer came faster than your breath. âNo.â
The corner of his mouth lifted. âGood.â
His hand squeezed, just once, at the top of your thigh before sliding around your waist and pulling you across him. The daybed dipped under the shift of your weight until you were half in his lap, knee braced between yours. His fingers trailed along your hip, grounding you there, keeping you balanced against him.Â
Your pulse jumped hard enough that you knew he felt it. Hoseok dipped his head, his lips brushing your temple, the shell of your ear, down to the line of your jaw. Hoseokâs thumb pressed a little firmer against the outside of your thigh, the circle he was drawing slowing to a tease. âYou taste better when people are watching,â he murmured, grinning against your skin.
You turned your head, startled into a laugh. âYouâre impossible.â
âOr irresistible,â he shot back, âPick one.â
You pushed lightly at his chest, but he caught your wrist before it landed, holding it there against him. His heartbeat was steady beneath your palm, steady in a way that made your own falter. He didnât let go right away, only softened his grip enough that you could decide whether to pull back or stay.
You stayed.Â
His smile shifted, less show now, more heat. He leaned in until his nose brushed your cheek. The stubble along his jaw grazed your skin when he spoke. âKiss me again.â
You didnât answer. You just tilted toward him, lips parting in the space between you. Hoseok didnât rushâhe let the pause stretch until you exhaled against his mouth, until it felt like youâd have to ask him to stop teasing. Then he kissed you, slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that left no room for cameras or firelight or anyone else at all.
His hand slid from your thigh to your hip, fingers curving around to anchor you against him. The shift drew you fully into his lap, your knees bracketing him. He caught your lower lip between his teeth before sucking it softly into his mouth, and your breath stuttered out against him.
The kiss was slow but built into something more intense when you pushed for more. The kiss deepened, turned messy in the best wayâyour hand sliding up to fist lightly in his hair, his tongue sliding past yours in a rhythm that had nothing to do with patience.Â
He shifted beneath you, guiding you higher into his lap, until your knees were planted on either side of him. The daybed groaned sloftly under the weight of you both. His hand cupped the back of your neck, the other gripping your waist like heâd claim every inch if you let him.Â
You gasped into his mouth when your hips pressed down. The heat between you caught sharp, undeniable. Hoseokâs breath faltered, a low sound leaving him that was half a growl, half a laugh. He didnât move to hide what you felt under you, firm and growing harder with each roll of your hips.Â
âThatâs it,â he murmured, his mouth grazing yours, the words rough. âYou like what you feel?â
Your answer was a shiver that gave you away. You pressed closer, chasing more of it, your lips breaking against his as his grip on your waist tightened. For a moment, the world was only the heat building between you and the pulse thundering through your bodies.Â
Hoseok pulled back, chest heaving, his forehead falling lightly to yours. He was smiling, but his jaw was tight, his eyes dark.
âWe should cool it,â he said, voice raw, âOr I wonât be able to stop.â
You nodded, though your pulse kept racing. He kissed you once more, quick and lingering all at once, before leaning back against the cushions. Reluctantly, you shifted back, sliding off his lap but staying pressed against his side. His hand lingered at your waist until you settled beside him, then slipped down to rest warm and steady on your thigh, as he adjusted himself with his other hand, feeling the uncomfortable tightness in his pants.
You tipped your head back, forcing in a breath. âThat was reckless.â
Hoseok chuckled low. âThen youâre trouble, because I like reckless.â
You turned your face toward him, trying to smother a smile. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âRidiculously hot,â he offered, deadpan.
You snorted, shoving lightly at his chest. Hoseok caught your wrist before it landed, brought it to his mouth, and kissed the inside with infuriating ease.
âDonât push me away,â he murmured, lips brushing your skin. âYou donât want that.â
Your breath caught, betraying you. âCocky.â
âCorrect,â he said, releasing you only to slide his arm around your waist again, pulling you snug against his side.
You let your head rest against his shoulder, his warmth settling around you. The pool lapped quietly nearby. The villa had mostly gone silent. For the first time since the fire pit, the air around you felt calm.
The girlsâ dressing room was already alive by the time you walked inâheels clattering against tile, perfume clouding the air, and laughter bouncing off the mirrors. Bianca had collapsed into a chair, peeling her lashes off like she was clocking out from work. Lana perched cross-legged on the counter, drink in hand, smirk sharp as ever. Yuri, Isla, and Maya were halfway through wiping off lipstick, both of them watching the door like theyâd been waiting.Â
âThere she is,â Lana sang out. âThe star of tonightâs firepit feature.â
Your cheeks warmed immediately. âCan you notââ
âOh, now,â Yuri cut you off, wagging her makeup wipe at you. âThat wasnât a normal kiss. That was a statement.â
Bianca groaned theatrically. âSeriously. Do you know how hard it was to go after that? I was serving juice box while you two were serving champagne.â
The room cracked into laughter. Even Maya smiled, though she tilted her head, watching you a little too closely.
âSo,â she said, voice quieter, but not soft. âHoseok. You two looked like you were getting hot and heavy on that daybed.â
âAfter the fire pit,â Maya said, eyes still on you. âEven from the terrace, it was obvious what was happening.â
Heat crawled up your neck. âWeâŚwere just talking.â
âMmhmm,â Lana hummed, clearly unconvinced. âTalking with your tongues, maybe.â
Bianca giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth. âOh my god, the cameras probably loved it.â
You busied yourself with unclipping your earrings, ignoring the smirks around you. Maya finally looked away, brushing mascara from under her eye. âJustâŚbe careful,â she warned. âItâs early days.â
The noise picked back up, chatter scattering into hairbrushes and skincare routines, but your pulse was still loud in your ears.Â
The boysâ dressing room was louder, shirts half-off and cologne tinging the air. Leo leaned back against the lockers, grinning like he'd just won something himself.Â
âMate, you stole the show,â he said, clapping Hoseokâs back. âThat kiss? Pure cinema.â
Jungkook dropped onto the bench, shaking his head with a laugh. âUnfair advantage. Nobody else can compete with that.â
Namjoon adjusted the strap of his watch, smirking. âBold moves always play well in here.â
Hoseok rolled his shoulders, loose and easy. âWasnât a move. I wanted her. So I kissed her.â
That earned a chorus of âooohsâ and a whistle from Leo. Even Taehyung cracked a smile, shaking his head.Â
From the far side of the room, Jin set his glass down with a soft clink. âHeâs right,â he said smoothly. âIt didnât look like a move.â
The room went quieter than it should have.
Hoseokâs eyes slid over, casual on the surface, sharper underneath. âGlad you noticed.â
Jin looked up then, expression unreadable. âHard not to.â
For a moment, the noise thinned, something taut humming between them. Then Jungkook cracked a joke about Hoseok needing a PG-13 rating, Leo barked a laugh, and the chatter rushed back in. Hoseok leaned back, smiling like nothing had happened, though his gaze lingered a fraction longer on Jin.
By the time everyone filtered into the shared bedroom, the night had softened into the hum of exhaustion and leftover adrenaline. Sheets rustled, voices carried across the rows of beds, the energy still restless.Â
You slipped beneath your covers, already aware of Hoseok moving toward you. He didnât even bother to askâhe just slid in beside you like it was obviously his place, his arm draping over your waist as if it always belonged there.
âCozy,â Leo teased from across the room.
Hoseok chuckled low, tugging the blanket higher over you both. âComfortâs important,â he said, tone light.
Hoseok adjusted on the mattress, turning just enough so he could tuck you closer into the curve of his body. His hand slipped beneath the blanket, fingertips finding your hip and tracing idle shapes there, feather-light.
âYou comfortable?â he whispered, voice pitched low enough that it was for you alone.
You nodded against his chest. âMore than comfortable.â
His thumb brushed slow circles, his breath warm at your hairline. âYou nearly killed me out there,â he murmured, amusement laced through the words.
âYou started it,â you whispered back, a smile tugging despite yourself.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest into your cheek. His palm spread wider, sliding up to rest just under your ribs. âYeah,â he said softly, âand Iâm not sorry.â
For a moment, neither of you spoke. His hand kept moving in slow, lazy caresses. The room hummed with the faint sounds of others settling: a cough, the rustle of sheets, whispered giggles from across the way. But here, inside the cocoon of your bed, it felt like another world.
You tilted your face up toward him. In the dim light, his eyes found yours, soft now, stripped of the grin he wore for others. He leaned down, brushed his lips over your forehead, then lingered there as if anchoring you both in the quiet.
âSleep,â he whispered. His arm tightened around you, steady and warm. You let your eyes close, body sinking into his. The last thing you felt before drifting off to sleep was his thumb stroking slow, endless circles against your skin.
The days blurred the way only villa days couldâbright and loud, stretched out in endless heat.Â
Mornings began with the splash of someone diving into the pool, or Jungkook raiding the fridge for leftover fruit before anyone else could get to it. Afternoons belonged to the loungers: half the islanders stretched out with sunglasses and water bottles, the other half perched on the edge of the pool, legs dipping into the water.
You and Hoseok carved out of your corner of itâsun-warmed limbs tangled on a daybed, his hand always finding your thigh, your hip, the back of your neck. He was bold with it, never hiding, the kind of affection that was easy to lean into because it came without hesitation.
âStop hogging the shade,â he teased one afternoon, shifting so your head fit against his chest more comfortably.
âYouâre the one blocking the breeze,â you shot back, though you didnât move away.
Across the pool, Jin sat with Isla, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he tapped idly at his water bottle. He laughed at something she said, polite and smooth, but every so often, you felt the weight of his attention flicker across the deckâsharp but gone in an instant.
Youâre shaken awake from your light doze by Maya, who is standing over you with a conspiratorial grin. She tugs you away from your cozy cuddle with Hoseok and over to the cabana by the garden.
âOkay, spill. You and Hoseok have been glued together for days now.â
You smile and shrug. âHeâs easy to be around.â
âEasy?â Her brow lifted. âThatâs not the word Iâd use for the way he looks at you.â
Heat prickled under your collarbone. âHeâs confident. Thatâs all.â
âConfident, sure,â Maya said, sipping at her water. âBut you know confidence can tip into cocky fast. Just be sure youâre steering, not him.âÂ
From across the path, Yuriâs voice rang out, âDonât forget to ask her about Jin!â
Maya smirked over her glass. âOh, believe me, I was getting there.â
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. âUnbelievable.â
Maya leaned in, eyes narrowing just slightly. âSo youâre telling me Iâve imagined the way he watches you?â
The next day, during a languid afternoon. Lana gets a text.
Hopping up, âI GOT A TEXT!â Waiting until she has everyoneâs attention, she read out, âIslanders, itâs time to find out what the public really thinks. #TruthHurts #GameOnâ
Groans, cheers, and nervous laughter.
The producers set up cards by the pool, each with a âpublic perceptionâ quote that the Islanders had to match to the couple or islander.
âThe couple most likely to have already christened the daybeds,â Leo read out.
âEasy,â Yuri said instantly, pointing at you and Hoseok. âDonât even pretend.â
The card flipped, showing your name and Hoseokâs.
The group whooped. Hoseok grinned, leaned over, and kissed you quickly and loudly. âThey know us,â he said, winking.
Taehyung read the next card, âThe Islander most likely to stir the pot when things get comfortable.â Taehyung smirked, âI meanâŚLeo.â
âOy!â Leo barked, laughing. âThatâs just slander.Â
The card flipped: Jin.
A chorus of âoooohsâ rolled through the group. Isla arched her brow, but it was Jin who let out a short laugh, shaking his head. âGuess Iâve been too quiet. Theyâre making up stories for me.â
Lana muttered, âOr maybe theyâve seen you brooding from the balcony.
The laugh that followed was a little too sharp.
Leo read the next card, âThe Islander most likely to make someoneâs head turn.â Leo scoffed, âMe, of course.â
He flipped the card, Leo sighed, and looked over at you. âOf course, they would choose you.â
For a moment, silenceâthen whistles, cheers, Biancaâs voice going, âOhhh, spicy.â
Hoseokâs grin stayed on, but his arm tightened a fraction where it rested behind you. Jin didnât say a word, but his sunglasses hid nothing when his jaw worked once, tight.
Yuri stepped up to read the next one. âThe couple most likely to win.â She pivoted to look at Maya. âNamjoon and Maya.â
The card flipped: Namjoon and Maya.
Mayaâs smile softened as she glanced at Namjoon, who flushed pink but tried to play it cool.Â
With that, the game wrapped up with teasing laughter as the group dispersed.
By the third day, the heat pressed down like a weight. Islanders were scattered around the villa â Leo napping under a hat, Yuri and Lana floating in the pool on loungers, Namjoon tinkering with a deck of cards.Â
You slipped inside, chasing shade and something cold. The kitchen was still, the hum of the fridge the loudest sound. You head straight for it and tug it open, reaching for a bottle of water.Â
âThirsty?â
You turned. Jin stood by the counter, a knife in hand, cutting slow, precise slices from a chilled mango. His sunglasses were gone, his eyes sharp and penetrating.
The door of the fridge clicked shut, the bottle sweating in your hand. You nod as you lift the bottle. âHeatâll do that.â
He nodded, slid the slice of mango into his mouth, and chewed slowly. His eyes didnât leave yours. âI didnât think Hoseok is the type to let you get dehydrated.â
The words caught you off guard. You tried for light. âYou keeping tabs?â
His smile flickered. âEveryone keeps tabs in here. Thatâs the game.â
You twisted the cap off the bottle, taking a long swallow. The water was cool, but the heat crawling up your neck wasnât from the sun.Â
âYou donât usually talk this much,â you said, setting the bottle down.Â
âI donât usually have a reason to.â His knife clicked against the cutting board as he set it down. Then he stepped closer. Not rushing, not crowdingâjust enough that the hum of the fridge seemed louder.Â
âJinââ
âDonât worry,â he said softly, eyes flicking to your mouth. âIâm not going to make a scene. Not like him.â
A breathless laugh, nerves buzzing. âSo what are you doing?â
His hand came up, brushing the side of your jaw, thumb grazing your cheekbone. âWhat I shouldnât.â
This kiss was nothing like Hoseokâs fire pit claim. No performance, no noise. Just pressure, slow and deliberate, his mouth shaping yours until you parted for him. His tongue brushed against yours, tasing faintly of mango, and your knees wobbled enough that his other hand slid to your hip, steadying you.
The counter pressed cold against your back as he guided you there, lips never breaking from yours. His fingers slid under the hem of your dress, finding the bare skin of your thigh. The touch was patient, devastatingly so, his thumb stroking lazily until you shifted against him, chasing more. His hand climbed higher as he maneuvered you into a corner that was a blind spot for the ever-watching cameras.
You gasped into his mouth when he pressed closer, the hard line of him unmistakable against your hip. His breath caught, but he didnât pushânot yet. Instead, his hand skimmed higher, teasing the edge of your panties before sliding beneath.
Your head tipped back against the cupboard with a thud, a soft sound escaping you when his fingers found you already wet.
âFuck,â he muttered against your throat, voice tight for the first time.Â
He stroked you slowly, deliberately, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your collarbone. You gripped his shoulders, nails digging through cotton, breath breaking as he explored you, circling your clit with ruthless precision.
âJinâ,â you gasped, hips jerking against his hand.Â
âShh,â he murmured, kissing you hard again, swallowing every sound. âLet go.â
The orgasm hits sharply, rolling through you in waves that make your legs buckle. He held you up through it, hand unrelenting, mouth claiming every broken noise until you sagged against him, shaking.
For a moment, the only sound was your harsh breathing and the hum of the fridge. Then his hand slipped free, slow, his thumb brushing your hip before he stepped back.
His chest rose and fell, jaw tight, eyes darker than youâd ever seen. His arousal was obvious, straining against his shorts, but he didnât move to take more.
âYou should go,â he said finally, voice raw.
You blinked, still breathless. âWhat?â
âIf I donât stop now,â his gaze burned into yours, âI wonât stop at all.â
The silence stretched, charged and dangerous. Then he turned, picked up the knife again, and resumed slicing the mango as if nothing had happened.Â
Your legs still trembling, you grabbed the water bottle and fled before anyone else could walk in.
The kitchen door swung shut behind you, but the hum of the fridge still seemed lodged in your ears. Your legs felt unsteady, every step buzzing, the cold water bottle sweating against your palm.
Sunlight beat down on the deck, the air thick with the scent of chlorine and coconut sunscreen. Laughter carried from the poolâYuri daring Lana to try a handstand, Jungkook splashing in retaliation when she toppled sideways.
Hoseok was stretched out on the daybed, one arm hooked behind his head, sunglasses tilted low. When he spotted you in the doorway, his mouth curved instantly.Â
âThere you are,â he called, voice warm, unbothered. He patted the cushion beside him. âThought youâd disappeared.â
You held up the bottle, managing a weak smile. âJust needed some water.â
âBring me some next time,â he teased, reaching for you the second you sat down. His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you against him. The smell of sun-warmed skin and pool water clung to him, familiar and grounding.
You sipped quickly, hoping the cool liquid disguised the heat still crawling across your skin.
From across the deck, Jin came outside and moved over to where Isla was sitting in the shade. He leaned forward, slow and precise, offering her a slice of the mango he had been cutting up earlier. His expression was unreadable, but you felt the weight of him anywayâlike a mark you couldnât scrub off, no matter how steady you tried to breathe.Â
âLook at them,â Yuri singsonged from the pool, pointing at you and Hoseok as she floated on her back. âCouple goals.â
Hoseok laughed, squeezing your shoulder. âDamn right.â
Mayaâs gaze flicked over from her perch by the pool steps. Her smile was small, unreadable, but her eyes lingered a moment too long before she turned away, sliding her braid over one shoulder.Â
âCute,â Lana added, smirking as she adjusted her sunglasses. âAlmost like nobody else exists when youâre together.â
Your pulse thudded at the phrasing. Hoseok only grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple.Â
Across the way, you can feel the weighted stare of Jin as he slowly ate a slice of his mango.
The afternoon heat had pressed everyone flat; Islanders sprawled across loungers and daybeds like theyâd melted into them. Leo had his hat pulled low, Jungkook balanced a water bottle on his stomach, and Lana fanned herself with a magazine.Â
The ping jolted the villa awake.Â
âTEXT!â Yuri crowed, grabbing her phone. She cleared her throat in mock-gravitas before reading aloud:
âIslanders, itâs time for a challenge. Get ready to play Kiss, Marry, Pie! #StickySituations #NoHiding.â
Groans, whoops, laughter in equal measure. Lo sprang up like heâd been waiting all day. âFinally, something fun!â
Lana grinned wickedly. âOh, this is going to ruin lives.â
Hoseok leaned over, brushing his thumb against your leg. âDonât worry,â he murmured low enough for only you to hear. âWhatever happens, Iâm the one who gets to keep kissing you after this game is done.â
They gathered in the challenge area â a splash of bright props against the sun, cream pies lined up on a table, and goofy cardboard cutouts of wedding rings and hearts. A colorful board read: Kiss, Marry, Pie.
The hostâs voice boomed from hidden speakers, âIslanders, itâs time to make your choices. Who will you kiss, who will you marry, and who gets pied?
Bianca went first. She smirked, hands on her hips. âAlright. Kiss⌠Taehyung.â
Taehyung met her halfway, giving her a neat little kiss that made Bianca laugh and cover her face like she was shy.
âMarry? Jungkook.â She plopped the cardboard ring onto his finger. Jungkook preened, flexing his hand like it was a real platinum diamond ring.
âAnd pieâŚLeo.â She shoved the cream straight into his face, and taking extra care to get it in his hair.
The group howled as Leo staggered back dramatically. âThatâs criminal behavior! A face like this deserves better treatment.â
Leo went next after wiping excess cream from his face. âKiss Lana.â He dipped her like a soap opera star, kissing her so exaggeratedly she nearly fell.
âMarry Yuri, because she cooks better than the rest of you combined.â He slid the ring onto Yuriâs finger; she rolled her eyes but smiled.
âAnd pieâŚâ He locked eyes with Taehyung. He approached the other man, and smooshed the pie all over Taehyungâs face, smearing it around and making a total mess. Laughing, Taehyung swiped some of the cream that had dropped onto his chest and flicked it at Leo.
On Mayaâs turn, she chose to kiss Namjoon, leaning in quickly, neat, no hesitation. His ears turned red instantly.Â
âMarry Namjoon too,â she added, sliding the ring onto his finger. âBecause he listens.â
That earned a chorus of âawws.â
âAnd pieâŚLeo. For reasons obvious to everyone.â
Leo groaned as another pie his his face. âIâm being targeted.â
Namjoon stepped forward next. âKiss Maya,â he said quickly, planting one on her cheek that made her beam. âAlso, marry her. No brainer.â
âAnd Iâll pieâŚâ he glanced around, then smirked at Jungkook. âBecause he stole my shirt yesterday.â
The cream splatted across Jungkookâs face, making him yelp.
Yuri popped up. âKiss Jungkook, because he makes me laugh.â Jungkook leaned in with a grin and gave her a quick but warm kiss.Â
âMarry⌠Taehyung. Because heâs cooler than he pretends.â Taehyung gave her a little bow as she slid the ring on.
âAnd pie⌠Lana. Because sheâd do it to me first.â
Lana squealed, dodging too late. Cream streaked her bikini top as she shrieked and laughed.
Taehyungâs turn. âIâll kiss Bianca,â he said simply, kissing her soft enough to make her grin.
âMarry Yuri.â Putting the ring on her finger with a dramatic flair.
âAnd pie⌠Leo. No explanation.â
Leo groaned as yet another pie smacked him in the face.â Why me every time?â Which sent everyone into peals of laughter.
On Lanaâs turn, she chose to kiss Leo. âKiss Leo, because he commits to the bit.â She gave him a showy kiss that left cream on her nose.
âMarry Yuri, because sheâs hot and will keep me in line.â
âAnd pie⌠Taehyung. Because he didnât marry Bianca.â She shoved it straight into his face.
Jungkookâs turn came. âKiss Yuri.â He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.Â
âIâll marry Lana,â he winked obnoxiously as he slid the cardboard ring on her finger.
âAnd I am pieing Namjoon for calling me out on stealing his shirt.â Namjoon took the cream stoically, wiping it from his jaw with exaggerated dignity.
During Islaâs turn, she chooses to kiss Jin, pressing a brief, light kiss to his mouth.
Picking up the prop ring, she turned back to Jin. âIâll marry him, too.â She slid the ring onto his fingers with a little flourish.
âAnd Iâll pie Hoseok just to keep things interesting.â The pie landed square to the face. Hoseok only grinned, wiping it off and licking his fingers unphased. âSweet.â
Hoseok stands up, âWell, itâs my turn.â Without hesitation, he approached you and said, âKiss.â Cupping your jaw and kissing you deep, and long enough for the Islanders to whoop and cheer, long enough that your knees shook.
âMarry.â He slipped the cardboard ring onto your finger with an exaggerated flourish. âObviously.â
âAnd pie, Leo.â He turned, smirking. âBecause itâs tradition now.â
He held his arms out like a martyr as the pie landed with surprising accuracy. âI donât deserve this.â
Finally, itâs Jinâs turn. He picked up a pie first. His eyes flicked once toward you, then slid smoothly to Hoseok. He walked over and shoved the cream pie in Hoseokâs face.
The villa explodedâshrieks, gasps, whistles. Hoseok only grinned, wiping cream out of his eyes. âGuess Iâm popular.â
âMarry Isla,â Jin said calmly, sliding the ring onto her finger with a smile. She laughed, playing along.
âAnd kissâŚâ His gaze landed on you. He crossed the space slowly, but with purpose, and when his mouth found yours, it wasnât loud or showy. It was tender and intimateâa kiss that made the villa go momentarily silent.Â
When he pulled back, the noise came rushing back in, too loud, too artificial. Your chest heaved as you sucked in air, feeling caught between Hoseokâs tense smile and Jinâs unreadable eyes.
By the time the game ended, everyone was sticky with cream and sun, laughter rolling over the villa like waves. Lana was still wiping pie out of her hair, muttering that Yuri owed her a new bikini. Leo strutted down the deck like a prizefighter, chest puffed out, declaring, âI am the most pied man in history, and I take that crown with honor!â
âYou take that crown because no one else wanted it,â Yuri shot back, flicking a spoonful of cream at him. He ducked, laughing, and she grinned, sprawling back on her lounger with the ease of someone who knew sheâd landed her joke.
Jungkook was still buzzing, retelling his pie revenge on Namjoon with wild hand gestures. Namjoon rolled his eyes but couldnât hide the smile tugging at his mouth. Maya sat close beside him, legs folded neatly, sipping her drink, amused by everyone elseâs chaos.
Hoseok dropped onto a lounger and tugged you down onto his lap before you could even think about sitting elsewhere. His arm draped easily around your waist, holding you snugly against him. He was grinning, casual as ever, but the weight of his hand was heavier than usual, fingers pressing into your ribs with an evident claim.
âFun game,â he murmured, low against your ear, voice laced with the subtlest hint of reproach. âEspecially that kiss you got from someone who wasnât me.ââ
Your pulse jumped. âIt was just part of the challenge.â
âMm.â His thumb stroked slowly along your shoulder, playful on the surface, possessive underneath. âGood thing I went first then.â
The villa quieted as night settled. Islanders drifted toward the firepit with drinks, laughter softening into smaller conversations. The hum of cicadas carried from the garden, broken by the occasional squeal as Jungkook chased one of the girls around the deck.
Hoseok caught your hand as you passed, tugging you toward teh narrow walkway by the hedge, âCome with me.â
The alcove he led you to was half-hidden, just big enough for a bench tucked beneath cascading vines. It wasnât completely privateânothing here really wasâbut it was shadowed and out of direct view of the other Islanders.
The kiss was hot, urgent, none of the showmanship of earlier. His hand slid into your hair, the other grippiing your thigh, dragging you closer until you were straddling him. You gasped when his teeth grazed your lip, and he swallowed the sound.
âYou know what you do to me?â he questioned voice gravelly, breath hot.
Your breath caught in your throat, âEnlighten me.
His hand slipped under your dress, palm warm and sure against your skin. âThought I made it pretty obvious.â
You felt him, hard against your hip, and heat pulsed low in your belly. His fingers traced higher, brushing over your panties before sliding beneath, an echo of what another man did earlier.
âFuck,â he hissed softly, pressing his forehead to yours as he finds you wet and willing. âKnew it.â
His fingers worked you with a pace that was fast, relentless, his mouth crashing back onto yours to swallow every gasp and moan. You clutched at his shoulders, nails digging through linen, as his thumb circled your clit with a practiced precision.
âSay my name,â he urged, low and rough.
âHoseokââ the syllables broke apart as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and piercing, your body trembling against his. He held you firm, fingers coaxing you through every wave until you sagged against him, breathless.Â
When he finally eased back, his grin was wide and cocky, but his eyes were darker than the smile let on. His thumb stroked your hip lazily as the villaâs laughter floated from the firepit, distant, unaware.
Hoseok leaned in again, lips grazing your ear as he whispered sweet nothings, your body completely lax in his arms.
The breakfast bar was crowded, the counter a mess of half-eaten toast, mugs, and juice cartons sweating in the heat. Jungkook was halfway through scrambling more eggs than any of them needed, Leo was telling some story about his âtragicâ childhood with only one pool at his house, and Lana leaned back on her stool, eyes cutting slyly.
âSo,â Lana drawled, drawing everyoneâs attention from Leoâs sob story. She twirled her spoon in her yogurt and gestured toward you and Hoseok, âYou two vanished after the game yesterday.â
Every eye seemed to fall on you and Hoseok.
âJust went to get some air,â you said quickly, reaching for your mug.
âAir,â Yuri echoed, smirking. âThatâs one word for it.â
Hoseok only grinned, unbothered, leaning back with one arm slung across the back of your chair. âWhat can I say? We take our breathing very seriously.â
The table whooped, laughter spilling loudly.
You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the heat creeping up your neck.
Then Maya, calm as ever, spoke without looking up from buttering her toast. âAir, huh? Thatâs a long walk for just breathing.â
Hoseok smirks and casually continues to brush light circles on your bare shoulder where his arm is curled around you.
Across from them, Jin stirred his coffee silently, his eyes fixed on the swirl of liquid in his mug.
By midday, the sun sat high and merciless, pressing the villa into a lazy sprawl. Yuri and Lana floated on inflatables, shrieking every time Leo cannonballed close enough to splash them. Jungkook perched at the edge of the pool, slapping the water at Taehyung, who retaliated by dragging him straight in.
Hoseok was in the thick of it, laughing loudly, his shoulders gleaming wet as he wrestled Namjoon under the surface until both came up choking on water and hurling playful jabs.
You watched from the shade of a lounger, sunglasses perched on your nose, water bottle balanced against your chest.
âNot joining in?â Maya asked, sliding onto the lounger beside yours. She moved with her usual ease, settling back with her legs stretched out, gaze fixed on the chaos at the pool.Â
âNo. I am enjoying being lazy in the shade,â you said, adjusting your sunglasses.
âWell,â Maya murmured. âHoseok looks like heâs thriving on the attention.â
You shifted, caught off guard. âThatâs just him.â
âMm.â She didnât look at you, eyes still following the splashing at the pool. âStill, Youâre quiet, heâs loud. Makes people notice the contrast.â
Before you could answer, Hoseokâs shout carried across the deck, âBabe! Get in here!â punctuated by a splash as he dunked Namjoon again.
Maya finally turned, slipping her sunglasses down her nose to glance at you. âBetter hurry,â she said lightly. âWouldnât want him to think your heads wandering.â
Then she leaned back again, stretching, as though she hadnât just called you out.
You lifted your sunglasses with one finger, giving him a half-smile. âYouâve got enough opponents already.â
âDonât need opponents,â he shot back, grining wide, water dripping down his chest. âJust need you.â
The Islanders whooped, Lana wolf-whistling, Jungkook yelling something drowned out by another splash. Hoseokâs grin only widened, waiting.
You shook your head, laughing under your breath, then tipped your sunglasses back down. âIâll keep watch from here.â
The group groaned in mock disappointment, Hoseok clutching his chest like youâd wounded him. âCold!â he shouted, but his eyes lingered on you with that familiar heat even from across the distance.
The sun pressed heavier as the splashing and shouts carried on well into the afternoon. Hoseok remained in the center of it, arms looping around Jungkookâs waist to drag him under as the others laughed.Â
Your water bottle was already empty, condensation leaving a damp ring on the table. You stood, pushing your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose. âBack in a minute,â you told Maya.
The villa kitchen was cool compared to the deck, shadow cutting across the tiles. You had just pulled the fridge open when you heard itâthe scrape of a chair, the soft click of footsteps.Â
âNot joining the fun?â
You turned. Jin leaned against the counter, glass in hand, the line of his shoulders relaxed but his eyes anything but.
âToo hot,ââ you said again, grabbing a fresh bottle from the fridge shelf.Â
âToo hot,â he echoed, tone even. He tipped the glass in his hand, watching the ice shift. âYet you manage with Hoseok.â
Your jaw tightened. âYouâve been watching me agan.â
His mouth curved in a sardonic smirk. âEveryoneâs watching. He makes sure of it.â
You snapped the fridge shut, stepping past him. âWhat do you want, Jin?â
For a moment, silence. Then his hand caught the edge of the counter, cutting off your path without touching you. He leaned in just enough that the smooth notes of his cologne hit the air between you.
âI want to know,â he said softly, âif you felt it.â
Your pulse jumped. âFelt what?â
âThat kiss,â he murmured. His eyes held yours, steady, unlinching. âDonât lie.â
Your throat went dry, You opened your mouth, but nothing came. The silence stretched until Jin stepped closer, his voice low enough you could feel it in your chest.Â
âYou can let hiim claim you out there all you want,â he said. âBut in hereâŚâ
His mouth brushed yours before you could move awayânot hard, not showy, but slow anad deliberate, the same way heâd kissed you during the game. The kind of kiss that burned even when it broke.Â
He pulled back first, his expression unreadable. âIn here, itâs different.â
Then he moved past you, glass gripped in his hand, as if the conversationâthe kissâ had never happened.Â
You stood there, still clutching the cold bottle, your skin burning hotter than the sun outside.Â
The sun dropped low, pulling the Islanders toward the firepit after they had all changed into cocktail attire. Lanterns flickered on, music thrummed faintly from the villa speakers, and the air cooled just enough to draw everyone close.Â
You settled onto a cushion, a glass of something sweet in your hand. Before you could even find a comfortable spot, Hoseok tugged you into his lap, his grin wide, his arm solid around your waist.Â
âBest seat in the house,â he said, nuzzling against your temple before kissing you full on the mouth,
The kiss was unmissableâopen, eager, long enough for Yuri to wolf-whistle and Lana to clap like sheâd just seen a show.
âAlright, alright,â Leo groaned, mock-covering his eyes. âFamily-friendly vibes only, please.â
Hoseok only deepened the kiss before pulling back, licking his lower lip with a smirk. âJealous?â
âRepulsed,â Leo shot back, which only made the group laugh louder.
The noise carried, the teasing ricocheted, but Hoseok didnât seem to hear any of it. His hand stayed heavy on your thigh, fingers stroking possessively as though you werenât surrounded by the rest of the Islanders.Â
Across the firepit, Jin sat with Isla at his side, his glass tumbler propped on his knee. He didnât react, didnât move. He just took a lengthy sip of his drink, his gaze weighing heavily on you.
Then Mayaâs voice cut through the laughter, calm and unhurried. âGuess subtletyâs dead in this villa.â
The group burst out laughing again, Yuri snorting into her drink, Jungkook pretending to clutch at his heart.Â
Hoseok only smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw. âSubtletyâs boring.â
Bianca cackled at that, the noise rolling on, but the heat in your chest didnât fade. Not from the kiss. Not from Jinâs silence across the flames. Not from Mayaâs words which stuck like burrs under your skin.
The night progressed on from there, the Islanders trading quippy jabs and heartwarming stories of their lives before the villa. Naturally, the energy of the group settled into a comfortable silence as a cool evening breeze brushed through the group drawing goosebumps across your skin. Hoseok noticed your slight shiver. He pulled you closer and rubbed hs hand up and down your arm.Â
âBed?â he asked.
You smiled softly at the unspoken understanding. âBed.â You slipped off of his lap, and stood up. Hoseok followed your lead, scooping up the sandals that you had slipped off earlier in the night.Â
Linking your hands, he guided you up the villa stairs and inside to get ready for bed. The rest of the group followed behind the two of you like you both were the pied piper.Â
You slid in beside Hoseok, the sheets cool against you skin. He hooked an arm around your waist instantly, pulling you in tight, his nose brushing your shoulder as he pressed a quick kiss there.
âNight, baby,â he whispered, already half-asleep, his breath warm against your neck.
Around the room, th noise dulledâJungkook muttering something that made Yuri gigle, Taehyung and Bianca whispering in their corner, Lana humming a few lazy bars of a song before rolling over and cuddling up to Leo.
You stared at the ceiling, the sound of your pulse loud in your ears.
Across the room, Jin shifted in his bed with Isla who is already curled asleep next to him. When your gaze slid over in that direction, his was already on you, piercing in the dim lighting of the room. He didnât move or speakâjust held your eyes across the silence, something taut and unspoken stretching even tighter between you.
From the next bed, Maya exhaled sharply and rolled over, the rustle of sheets loud in the hushed quiet.Â
The noise was small, ordinary, but it snapped the thread between you and Jin.
Hoseok murmured something against your shoulder, pulling you closer.Â
But Jinâs eyes didnât leave yours, not until you shut them.
The villa had an undercurrent of restlessness throughout the day, its tranquil exterior contrasting with the tension that seemed to swirl beneath the surface. As dusk settled in and the first lanterns flickered to life, casting a warm, inviting glow, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Drinks sparkled enticingly in Islanders' hands, the reflections of light dancing like tiny stars.Â
Islanders began to gather around the firepit, their laughter and chatter rising into the cool evening air. The heat radiating from the flames mingled with the sweet, heady scents of floral perfumes and sharp aftershaves, creating a sensory tapestry that enveloped everyone. The fading sun, its golden rays softening into hues of pink and orange, added a magical touch to the scene, transforming the restless day into a vibrant night filled with camaraderie and shared stories.
âAlright,â Leo announced, sprawling across his cushion like a king. âHypotheticallyâif the hideaway opened tonight, who deserves it most?â
âNot you,â Yuri fired back instantly, making the others laugh.
âMe and Taehyung,â Bianca said, deadpan enough to draw groans. âWeâd finally get a nap.â
Lana smirked over her glass. âHer and Hoseok,â she gestured to the two of them,âNo contest. We all saw what happened on the terrace.â
You nearly choked. âWe justââ
Ping.
The group froze, then Yuri scrambled for her phone, eyes already wide. âIslanders,â she read voice climbing with each word. âTonight the Hideaway is open. But this timeâŚthe public has voted to send three Islanders. Hoseok, JinâŚâ Yuriâs mouth fell open, her eyes widening before lifting to look at you, âAnd you. #BreakingAllTheRules #OneNightOnly.â
The group erupted.
Jungkook fanned himself like heâd staged it. âThreesome unlocked. The producers have lost their minds.â
Yuri squealed, clapping her hand over her mouth. âOh my god, this isâthis is history.â
Lana leaned forward, grin sharp. âSpill. Right now. Whoâs doing what?â
Heat flushed over your face, neck, and chest. Hoseok only laughed, tugging you into a quick kiss on the cheek, grin wide enough for the cameras, but voice biting enough to belie his irritation. âGuess it will be an interesting night, babe.â
Across the pit, Jin tipped his glass back, swallowing down its contents. The quiet around him was louder than any cheer.
Maya only arched a brow at you. âBetter get ready. Got to look your best since you will be the center of attention.â
The girlsâ dressing room buzzed like a hive. Lipsticks rolled, dresses hung half-zipped; hairspray mixed with the cloying scent of perfume tinged the air.
Yuri flopped onto one of the open chairs, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. âOkay. Spill. Are you freaking out?â
âSheâs freaking out,â Lana declared before you could answer. âLook at her face. Thatâs a freak-out face.â
âIâm notââ you started, but your voice betrayed you by coming out shakily.
Bianca leaned in, braid sliding forward over her shoulder. âItâs one thing sneaking around a villa. The Hideaway? With the two of them?â
The comment had hit a little too close to home, causing your cheeks to flush pink. You forced a smile, smoothing your hands over your hips, feeling the silky material of the robe you slipped on over the lingerie the producers shoved at you.Â
âItâs not what you think.ââ
âOh, honey,â Lana purred, âitâs exactly  what we think.â
Maya, quiet until now, set down her hairbrush and met your eyes in the mirror. âDoesnât matter what we think,â she said, âOnly matters youâre ready for.â
The chatter swelled again, but her words dug under your ribs.
You turned toward the mirror, hands trembling slightly as you spread a thin layer of lip gloss on.Â
You could laugh with the girls, let them pry, but inside, your stomach curled tight. This wasnât a date. This wasnât a choice. It was stepping into a locked room with both of them, and the cameras would be waiting when you came out.
The garden lights lined the path like a runway. Islanders crowded around the three of you, whooping, whistling, calling encouragements.
âDonât do anything I wouldnât do!â Leo hollered, which earned him a slap on the arm from Yuri.
Hoseok grinned like a man already holding the prize, fingers laced through yours as he led the way. âBig night,â he whispered, his thumb stroking your hand, his energy palpable.
Behind you, Jinâs footsteps followed. You didnât turn to look at him, but you felt them there like a silent sentinel.Â
The Hideaway door loomed, painted a sot red, script curling in neon white above it. Hoseok paused with his hand on the handle before turning to you and Jin. âReady?â
You looked between the two of them and took a deep breath. âOpen it.â
The door shut behind the three of you with a soft and final click.
Inside, the Hideaway glowed. Candles flickered against velvet drapes, the oversized bed a stage dressed in white sheets and scattered red petals. A silver bucket held a sweating champagne bottle, condensation slipping in rivulets down the metal.Â
For a moment, none of you moved.
Hoseook broke the silence first. âThey really rolled out the red carpet.â His hand rested low at your back, thumb stroking circles that made your skin hum. âFeels like we should put on a show.âÂ
You swallowed, throat tight. The girlsâ voices from the dressing room still buzzed in your ears: Lanaâs teasing, Yuriâs squeals, and Mayaâs calm warning.
You steadying yourself. âIâm not a prize. Iâm not a rope in some tug-of-war.â Your eyes flicked between them. âIâm here because I want both of you. Tonight, that has to work for both of you.â
For a beat, the words trembled in the air.
Then Hoseokâs laugh broke, low, and delighted. âMore than okay.â His mouth crashed against yours, hot and claiming, his hands already tugging at the ties of your robe.
And then another touch. Fingers brushing your arm, gently, carefully. Jin.
You gasped. He was right there, so close, but not pushing. His voice was a whisper, âTell us if you want us to stop.â
You said nothing. You leaned into him, and his mouth met yoursânothing like Hoseokâs kiss. Slow and devastating.
âBed,â you managed, dizzy from both of them at once.
They moved like a tide and an undertow. Hoseok stripped your robe off quickly, laughing when it tangled, and tossed it aside. Jin unclasped your bra with a precision that made you shiver. Both hands found your body at once: Hoseok greedy, Jin reverent, their touches overlapping until you couldnât tell who was where.Â
You were on your back, Hoseok between your knees, his grin wicked as he slid down, kissing lower and lower. Jin knelt at your side, thumb stroking your temple as he kissed you slowly, grounding you while Hoseokâs tongue coaxed your body into an inferno.
âLook at me,â Jin murmured, and when your eyes met his, Hoseokâs mouth sealed over your clit. The orgasm hit like lightning, sharp and uncontrollable, your back bowing off the bed as Hoseok held you down, relentless, laughing into your skin.
You gasped Jinâs name without meaning to. Hoseok chuckled smugly against you.
He kissed his way up your body, pausing to tug at his shirt before wiggling out of his pants and underwear. Climbing back over you, he pushed into you in one smooth, claiming thrust. Your gasp broke into a moan, Hoseokâs pace fast, mercilessâjust like him. He bent to nip at your jaw, his groans rough against your ear. âFuck you feel so good. Itâs even better that youâre all mine.â
But Jin didnât step back. Reminding you of his presence, his hand caught yours, guiding it to him. He was already hard, thick in your grip, his breath stuttering when you stroked him. Hoseok kissed you again, harder this time, all control cracked as he fucked you deeper, rougher, each thrust making you moan into Jinâs mouth.
Your body was stretched between them, every nerve on fire. Hoseok slammed harder, racing toward his own cliffâs edge, his groan low and guttural when he spilled into you, his hips stuttering as he collapsed against your shoulder.
You barely had time to catch your breath before Jin was replacing Hoseok over you. Hoseok rolled aside, grinning, wrecked and satisfied. âNow show her what youâve been holding back.â
Jinâs thrust was differentâslow at first, devastating in its push. He held your face in both hands, elbows braced next to your shoulders, his gaze locked on yours as he sank in deeper, until you thought youâd break. âMine too,â he said softly, and the claim in his voice unraveled you.
His rhythm built until your legs shook, his hand slipping between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit with perfect pressure. The orgasm tore through you, dragging a ragged cry from your throat, your nails raking down his back as he groaned, hard and broken, spilling into you with a sharp curse.
When he finally stilled, the room was filled with heaving breathsâragged, uneven, overlapping. Pressing a kiss to your lips, one filled with many words left unsaid, and slipped out of you and curled around you.
You lay between them, wrecked and trembling, their hands soothing you even as they brushed over each other. Hoseok kissed your shoulder as Jin pressed a kiss to your temple.
âNow what?â you utter into the afterglow.Â
Hoseok answered first, smile soft at the edges. âNow we stop pretending.â
Jinâs voice followed, calm and confident. âAnd we stop making you choose.â
Something unknotted in your chest. You laced your fingers through Hoseokâs and brushed your ankle along Jinâs calf. The three of you fit, messy and perfect, tangled under the sheets.Â
For the first time all season, the heat felt like yours.
Thanks to my betas: @mrsparkjimin18, @moonleeai, @cherrysoulthÂ
Cross-posted to AO3.
*sometimes the same scene will happen from different POV
There will be a part two. đ
Summary: On day one in the villa, Seokjinâs only plan was to play the game and winâuntil he was paired with the one girl who could match his banter.
A/N - đĽ˝= Jin POV, đ= f.Reader POV, đŁď¸= confessional
The lights were blinding, the chair felt like it came from IKEAâs âRegret Collection,â and Kim Seokjin still looked like a man seconds away from accepting an award for Best Leading Actor in a Romance.Â
He adjusted the camera-facing side of his face (the better sideâhe had a chart), smoothed his shirt like he was on a red carpet, and offered a long, dramatic sigh. Not because he was tired. Because the world was lucky to have him.Â
âThey told me to be honest,â he said, eyes narrowed at the camera like he was about to admit to a scandal. âSo here it is: Iâm not here to fall in love. Iâm here to win.â
He paused. Then added, as if deeply offended, âAnd if love tries to flirt with me? I will report it to HR.â
From behind the production curtain, one of the staff snorted. Jin ignored it with the grace of a man used to causing involuntary laughter.Â
âIâve seen these shows,â he went on, now gesturing vaguely like he was outlining a conspiracy. âTwo people lock eyes. Someone says, âIâve never felt this way beforeâ after three cocktails. Suddenly, theyâre crying in a hot tub. No, thank you.â
He turned slightly in the chair to show off his profile. âIâm here to look good, steal the best bed, and maybeâmaybeâkiss someone if they say something funny enough to deserve it.â
A pause. A twitch of the mouth. He almost smiled for real.
âBut hey,â he said, voice quieter now. âIf someone actually makes me laugh?â His brows lifted. âThatâs a problem. For me. For them. For everyone.â He made an exploding gesture with both hands. âDisaster. Ratings gold. Youâre welcome.â
~Cut.~
Kim Seokjin pushed the door open with one pristine white sneaker, letting it swing wide like a stage curtain. He stepped inside with practiced easeâluggage in one hand, sunglasses still on, and the air of a man whoâd already decided the show was lucky to have him.
His first impression of the place?
Tacky. And aggressively emanating a confused mashup of coastal rustic and âinfluencer Airbnb.â Too much rattan. Not enough taste. âOh no,â he muttered, eyes scanning the rattan furniture, the faux coastal accents, the excessive throw pillows chosen by a producer who thought boho meant expensive, and overly curated plants. âItâs worse than I imagined.â
The cameras were already tracking himâtiny red lights blinking from the corners of the ceiling. He didnât look at them. He didnât have to.
He dropped his bag by the entryway and took a slow lap, hands in pockets, like he was considering buying the place out of pity. The scent of ocean breeze drifted in through the open windows, tangled with sunscreen and desperation.
The villa was utterly quiet. No voices yet. No movement. He was the first one in.
âGood,â he said to himself. âI hate sharing a spotlight.â
In the kitchen, he opened a cabinet. The shelves were bulging with the most current, trendy foods and beverages. With a flick of his wrist, he closed the white door before making his way to the bedroom.
The door creaked open. The beds were perfectly made, and the walls were decorated in gag-inducing clichĂŠ quotes about living life and finding love.Â
There was no luggage in sight, no marks of human presence.
First pick.
He smiled.Â
A slow, smug smile.
He chose the bed with the best window light and the most strategic angle to the mirror, then flung his white, hard-shell suitcase onto the bed, which had his name scribbled along one side in hot-pink script.
There. Claimed.
He didnât sit. Not yet. Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, surveying the room like a prince inspecting his summer palace.Â
âI give it three days before someone cries in here,â he mutters to himself, âHopefully not on my pillow.â
From somewhere outside, faint laughter echoed. A door slammed. Footsteps crunched across the gravel.
More arrivals.
Jin tilted his head slightly, gaze fixed on the hallwayâbut didnât move. Let them come to him.
He was ready.
đ
The gravel crunched under your sandals in a way that was not flattering.Â
You paused at the entrance, one hand gripping the handle of your suitcase, the other shielding your eyes from the sun. Somewhere behind you, a production assistant shouted something cheerful and vaguely threatening like âjust be yourself!â before disappearing back down the path.
You were going to be sick.
The villa looked like an Instagram filter had thrown up on a Pinterest board. Palm trees, wicker everything, soft linens in shades of sandstorm beigeâ˘. It smelled like a coconut and capitalism.
You took a deep breath.
You werenât here for love. You werenât here for drama. You were here because your roommate dared you to apply, and because you were bored enough to say yes when the producers called.
That was it.
You could do this. Just donât get attached to anyone. Donât trust anyone. Donâtâ
Reaching the bedroom, the door creaked as you pushed it open.Â
And there he was.
Standing by one of the beds like he owned it, arms crossed, hair too perfect, face unfairly symmetrical. He didnât turn toward you right away. He was still staring at the mirror in front of him, like he was contemplating the meaning of life.
Then he turned and looked at you and smiled.
It wasnât a big smile. Just the kind that lifted one corner of his mouth like he knew something you didnât. The kind that said âyes, Iâm pretty, and yes, I know you noticed.â
Whichâokay. Maybe you did for like half a second.
You stood frozen in the doorway, caught between wanting to introduce yourself and wanting to turn around and pretend you were lost and accidentally wandered into the wrong room.
âHi,â he said, casually, breaking the looming silence.
You blinked. âIs this the part where we pretend this isnât awkward?â
His smile widened. âOh, good. Youâre funny.â
You hated how fast your stomach flipped at that compliment.
âI was hoping to get here first,â you said, dragging your suitcase into the room, one that is identical to his but with your name calligraphied down the side. âPick a bed. Establish dominance. That sort of thing.â
He nodded, the corner of his lips twitching upward. âThat wouldâve been smart. Unfortunately, Iâm smarter.â
You stared at him.
He didnât blink.
Neither did you.
â...Right,â you said finally, picking the bed farthest from him. It had slightly worse lighting and no window breeze. But this way, there is less risk of spontaneously combusting.
âJust so you know,â he added, sitting on the edge of his bed now, âpeople usually fall in love with me around the third day of knowing me. Try to pace yourself.â
You exhaled a slow, cursed laugh. âIâll try to survive the first forty-eight, then.â
He grinned.
You hated how much you liked it.
đŁď¸
The chair was too deep. Or maybe you were just sitting weirdly.
You shifted again, trying to look natural while also calculating what ânaturalâ looked like on camera. Someone had definitely mentioned posture during orientation. Or maybe it was something about fidgeting? Hairstyle? Eyebrows? You couldnât remember. Your ears were buzzing.
âSoâŚâ a producer said from behind the production light. âFirst impressions?â
You stared at the camera. Then let out a breath that was somehow a sigh, a laugh, and a quiet internal scream.
âI meanâyeah. Sure. First impressions.â You stall as you gather your scattered thoughts.Â
Another beat passed as you fiddled with the hem of your shorts.Â
âHeâsâŚâ you stopped. Your lips pursed. âOkay, objectively? Heâs very symmetrical.â
Another pause. Somewhere in the dark, a producer laughed.
âHeâs also full of himself. Like, very. Like if confidence were an Olympic sport, he would be doping. And coaching the team. And posing for the medals.â
You shrugged, already a little too warm under the lights. âBut heâs funny, which is unfair. I was fully prepared to hate him on sight, and then he said something sarcastic and I laughed, and now Iâm mad at myself.â
Your fingers tapped lightly against your leg.
âHeâs obviously playing a game. WhichâI respect. Kind of. I mean, I donât trust it, but I respect it.â
You leaned back, finally settling into the chair like the war was over. âIâm not here for love. Iâm here to not look stupid on national television.â
Silence.
âWhich is already going great, clearly.â
~Cut.~
The heat was already clinging to your skin when the producers ushered you outside with the other female contestants.
The five of youâlined up like products in a weirdly flirty showroomâstood facing the villaâs grand entrance while the production team fussed with cameras and mics. Sand crunched beneath your sandals, fake grass stretched behind you, and somewhere in the distance, a speaker was blasting synthy instrumental music that sounded like it desperately wanted to be sexy.Â
You took in the other girls standing next to you, and your eyes landed on the girl on the far right. Lana, all curves and confidence, was reapplying her lip gloss as if it were armor. Yuri stood beside her, glowing with soft beach-girl energy and smiling like this was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. Maya gave you a glance and an eyerollâmutual silent agreement: this is insane, right? Bianca was already waving at the cameras.
You folded your arms across your chest as a voice crackled from behind a camera, âLadies, you know the rules. One by one, the boys will enter. Step forward if youâre interested.â
Lana whispered, âShowtime.â
Cue the first guy stepping out.
Jungkook.
He jogged down the villa steps like a golden retriever whoâd just been told he was a very good boy. Tank top, tattoos down both arms, earrings lining the curves of his ears, and the worldâs softest brown eyes.
âOh no,â Maya whispered. âHeâs gonna make me believe in astrology.â
Jungkook grinned like heâd just won something. âHi,â he said with a tiny bow. âMy name is Jungkook.â
You didnât step forward. Neither did Maya.
Yuri and Bianca both did. Lana hesitated, then stayed putâprobably saving her energy for someone taller.
Jungkook picked Yuri after a moment of adorable panic. She looked delighted. Cute. Easy. Safe.
You bit your lip.
Namjoon.
Then came the next guy, button-up fluttering in the breeze, dimples set to âmurderous,â sunglasses hooked on one finger like heâd already analyzed the entire competition and filed a strategic report.
He walked like he didnât know how hot he was.Â
Bianca stepped forward before he even introduced himself. Lana followed. You blinked, surprised to see Maya step forward too. She shrugged at you, as if to say, âHe seems emotionally literate, sue me.â
Namjoon smiled warmly. âIâm Namjoon.â
He chose Lanaâprobably because she looked like sheâd eat the others for brunch if he didnât.
Dante.
This guy wore a smirk that screamed trust fund problems and had the kind of tattoo sleeve that had no business looking that good on a man who definitely lied on his taxes.
Bianca stepped forward again. No hesitation. Maya didnât.
You glanced at Dante. He caught your eye.
You blinked. He winked.Â
âNope,â you muttered to yourself.
Dante picked Bianca, obviously. She winked back.
Leo.
Next was the stereotypical quiet, brooding, built like a lifeguard type who wrote poetry about the moon.
He introduced himself in one-word answers and ran a hand through his dark hair like it owed him money.Â
Maya stepped forward again.
You thought about it.
You didnât.
Leo picked Maya. She gave you a look as she walked off that said, I still donât believe in love, just giving him a shot.
Now there were four guys standing with their new partners.
And just you, standing alone under a sky so bright it felt personal.
Seokjin.
Then he walked out.
White linen shirt, buttons undone to just the right degree. Hair styled like the wind loved him personally. He walked out as if heâd already owned this villa and everyone in it.
And then, without even introducing himself, he made eye contact with you.
Direct. Unflinching.
He didnât even look at the others.
The others were already standing in neat pairs, hands clasped, grins fixed for the cameras, which left you. And him.
You didnât step forward. Not because you werenât curious. But because it felt like exactly the kind of game he wanted you to play.
So you stayed where you were, arms crossed, your heart doing something extremely rude.
Technically, it wasnât a choice. But he made it sound like one. Jin arched a brow.
Then, loudly enough for the cameras: âI choose the one pretending not to look at me.â
Your stomach dropped.
You walked over to stand next to him, a slow and smug look on his face that said you were already his.
âHi,â he said with a grin, tilting his head. âYouâre welcome.â
You stared at him.
Then gave a single, short nod. âBold choice.â
âIt always is.â
The camera zoomed in on the two of you.
đŁď¸
Your fingers fiddle with the mic hanging around your neck.
âSoâŚâ the producer prompts. âSeokjin picked you.â
You huff out a laugh thatâs more disbelief than amusement. âYeah. As observed by you and everyone else.â
You lift your hands in mock surrender. âItâs not like I had options. We were the last two standing. He could be a serial killer, and Iâd still be here.â
You lean back, lips pressing into something that isnât quite a smile. âHeâs confident. Like, capital C confident. The kind of guy who walks into a room and assumes the lighting is for him.â
You glance toward the side, like maybe heâs just off camera. âThe worst part? It worked.â
~Cut.~
đĽ˝
Jin wasnât surprised you hadnât stepped forward.
Some people, less intelligent ones, wouldâve taken that as rejection. He took it as an invitation. After all, anyone who could resist him in the opening act clearly had a higher tolerance for charm than the average human. Which only meant one thing.
You were going to be fun.
Now, twenty minutes after the coupling ceremony, they were all scattered across the pool deck. Jungkook was doing push-ups for no apparent reason. Namjoon was deep in conversation with Lana about how the moon affected tides. Dante and Bianca were already draped across a lounge chair, as if they were filming an ad for bad decisions.Â
And youâhis newly assigned partnerâwas over by the bar, leaning casually against the counter while talking to Leo.
Jin sipped his drink, watching from his perch on the edge of the pool. It wasnât jealousy. Obviously not. He didnât like the way Leo was looking at you like you were his next snack.
You laughed at something Leo said. The sound carried, light and easy, over the low hum of conversation ebbing and flowing around him.
Jin tilted his head.Â
Heâd made his choice earlier for the cameras, sureâbut now? Now it felt less like a choice and more like a claim he actually wanted to defend.Â
He stood, setting his drink down with precision, and crossed the deck.
âLeo,â he said smoothly when he reached the pair, as if greeting an old friend. Then, to you: âAlready making me work for it? Talking to the competition on day one?â
Your eyes narrowed slightly, lips twitching. âDidnât realize this was a possession arrangement.â
âItâs not,â he said, leaning an elbow on the counter beside you. âItâs a winning arrangement. And I like to win.â
Leo gave a low chuckle, clearly entertained, and excused himself with a shrug.
Jin watched him go, then turned his full attention back to you. âSo. What were you laughing at?â
âWouldnât you like to know,â you said sarcastically.
âI would,â he replied without missing a beat, his smile slow and sure. âAnd I will.â
You didnât bother responding, not about the joke, not about why you were smiling at Leo. Instead, you reached for the glass on the counter and took a long sip, eyes fixed on the pool like he wasnât still standing there.
Most men might have taken the hint. Seokjin wasnât most men.
Adjusting his approach, Seokjin asks, âYou always this mysterious, or is this just for me?â
Side-eyeing him over the rim of your drink.âMysterious? No. Selective? Yes.â
âThatâs dangerous,â he said. âI like it.â
He noticed the way you were leaningâjust slightly back, chin lifted, like youâre measuring the distance between the two of you. He stepped into it. Not much. Just enough for you to notice.
The sun caught on the mirrored lenses of your sunglasses, throwing his own face back at him. He smiled at the reflection. Then, without warning, he reached up, hooked a finger on the frame, and slid them right off your face.
âHeyââ
âMm,â he hummed, putting them on in one smooth motion. âThese look better on me.â
You blinked at him, momentarily caught between irritation and laughter. âYou canât justââ
âI can,â he interrupted, tapping the side of the glasses. âAnd I just did.â
âYouâre unbelievable.â
âThatâs why people believe me,â he said, lips quirking.
You snatched them back before he could react, the edge of your fingers gently brushing his cheek in the process. The contact was brief, but it landed. He caught the shift in your expressionâthe slightest flicker of something unguardedâbefore you slid the glasses back on.Â
âYouâll have to try harder,â you scoffed.
Oh, he thought. He would.
--
It started innocently enough. It always did.
Sitting in a loose circle on the fake grass by the firepit with the other nine contestants, drinks sweating in everyoneâs hands, the air just cool enough to make you forget about the camerasâuntil Lana kicked things off by pointing at Jungkook.
âTruth or dare?â
He picked truth.Â
âOkayâŚwhatâs your biggest fear?â
âMicrowaves,â Jungkook answered with no hesitation.
The circle paused for half a second before dissolving into laughter.
âDo they attack you where youâre from?â Dante jabbed.
âTheyâre unpredictable, Jungkook said seriously, like this was common knowledge. âYou put something in it, and it comes out hotter than the sun in some spots, still frozen in othersâŚplus they hum.â
Across the circle, Jin lifted his drink and said, âTragic. Truly the silent killer of our time.â
That set the group off again, Jungkook trying and failing to keep a straight face.
From there, it stayed harmlessâMaya dared Bianca to drink champagne straight from the bottle, Namjoon admitted his most embarrassing celebrity crush (apparently, an anime character), and Yuri sang a bad karaoke song from memory.
Then Dante decided to escalate things.
He dared Bianca to kiss Namjoon. She did, lingering for just long enough to set off a wave of hollers and âoooohs.â Namjoon laughed it off, but Jin clocked the shift. The game had just crossed the line from fun to interesting.
When his turn came, he didnât hesitate. He looked straight at you.
âTruth or dare?â
You tilted her head, eyes glinting. âTruth.â
âCoward,â he said smoothly, then: âIf you had to share a bed with someone here other than your partner, who would it be?â
Your lips curved, the smallest, most infuriating smirk. âLeo.â
Of course.
He smiled like it didnât matter. Like he wasnât already planning the next time he got Leo alone.Â
Your turn came around fast.
Leaning back on one hand, looking directly at Jin. âTruth or dare?â you asked him.
âDare,â he said without hesitation.
You thought for a moment, then cocked your head with mock innocence. âI dare you to take a shot off of someoneâs body.â
The circle erupted into cheers and whistles.
Jinâs eyes stayed on yours. âWhose body?â
You took a sip of your drink. âDealerâs choice.â
He didnât look at anyone else.
The groupâs noise dimmed to background static as he leaned toward you. âDonât move.â
He turned and pulled the tray of supplies that one of the producers had quickly snuck in off-camera. He tipped a pinch of salt into the curve of your collarbone, just enough for you to feel the brush of his fingertips, then poured tequila into the shot glass held in his other hand. Picking up the lime wedge, he held it to your mouth, cocking one brow as a challenge.
Tonguing the inside of your cheek, you silently stared him down before slowly dropping open your jaw. He smirked and pressed the wedge of citrus between your teeth.Â
He bent, his breath warm and damp against you. He hovered, letting his breath tickle your skin before curling his tongue along your collarbone. He barely pulls back to take the shot, only to surge forward and clench the lime between his own teeth, intentionally brushing his lips against yours.
He straightened, letting the group's reaction crash over them like a wave.
The dares kept coming, each bolder than the last. Dante doing a lap around the pool in a speedo; Lana giving Jungkook a lap dance that left him red to his ears; Yuri feeding Maya strawberries one at a time with her mouth.
Then Mayaâs turn came. She scanned the circle like a cat picking her prey.Â
âJin,â she said finally. âTruth or dare?â
He smirked. âDare, of course.â
âI dare youâŚâ Mayaâs smile sharpened.â...to make out with Bianca.â
The group whooped loudly. Biancaâs brows shot up in delighted surprise. She leaned forward, ready.
Jinâs eyes flicked onceâjust onceâto you beside him.
Then he smiled, slow and wicked, and turned to Bianca.
The kiss started smooth, easy, no hesitation in sight. He reached up and cupped the side of Biancaâs jaw, long fingers nearly reaching her nape. He adjusted the angle with the hold on her, the change just what was needed to deepen the kiss. Â
The kiss lasted several stretched-out moments before the hollers of the group broke them apart.
When he pulled back, Bianca was grinning. He was grinning. But out of the corner of his eye, he was watching you.
Your expression didnât give him much, but your hand clenched a little tighter around your glass than before.
And that, he thought, was very interesting.
đđŁď¸
âYou hated that game,â the producer said.Â
You let out a short laugh. âYeah. I also kind of⌠didnât.â
They didnât respond, which was their way of saying, 'Go on.'
âIt stopped being an innocent camp game about halfway through. It became a game of chess. Everyone was sizing each other up, pushing buttons, seeing who would crack first.â
âWho cracked first?â
âNot Jin,â you said petulantly, rolling your eyes. âNot that heâd ever admit to cracking even if he was on fire.â
You shifted in the chair. âWhen I said Leoâs name, he didnât even move, but his eyes changed, just for a second. Then it was gone. And I noticed.â
The producer hummed. âAnd the dare?â
Your mouth tugged into a reluctant smirk. âThat was deliberate. He could have picked anyone, but no, straight to me. Sure, it was just a dare, butââ you gestured vaguely toward your collarbone. âIt didnât feel like âjust a dare.ââ
The crew waited.
âAnd then he kissed Bianca. Like it was nothing. And fineâmaybe it was. Maybe it was all just a game.â Your fingers drummed against your knee. âBut it didnât feel the same when he was looking at me. Which is stupid.â
âWhy, stupid?â
You let out a slow breath, âBecause whatever game heâs playing, I donât want to be the one who loses it.â
~Cut.~
The smell of toast and frying eggs dragged you out to the villaâs open-air kitchen.
Jungkook was at the stove, his hair pulled into a messy top-knot. Namjoon was attempting to make pancakes while Lana hovered behind him like a food critic. Dante was slicing fruit shirtless, for reasons that were almost certainly unnecessary.Â
And Jinâyour partner of approximately fourteen hoursâwas leaning against the counter like the morning had been handcrafted for him.
âHungry?â he asked, holding a plate like a bribe.
âI was just coming to see what the damage was,â you said, eyeing the kitchen. âTurns out itâs minimal.â
âMinimal?â He glanced down at the neatly plated scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit. âTis is artistry.â
âItâs breakfast,â you corrected, though the smell was making your stomach growl.
Jin stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough that the othersâ chatter became background noise. âCome eat with me.â
It wasnât really a question.
He led you away from the noise, out onto the shaded patio near the pool. Two chairs, a small table, the sound of water lapping quietly against the tiles.Â
âSecluded much?â you asked, sitting down.
âBetter view,â he said, sliding your plate toward you. Then, after a beat, âAnd fewer witnesses if you decide to like me.â
You shook your head, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips as you picked up your fork. âYou really never turn it off, do you?â
âNot when it works.â
By the time the plates were empty, the sound of voices calling from the lawn carried in through the open patio doors.
After breakfast, the producers called everyone to the lawn. A folding table waited there, covered in slips of paper and props: blindfolds, a jumble of small weights, beanbags, and a few coils of rope.Â
Beyond the table, the rest of the course stretched across the grassâa line of orange cones to weave through, a rope ladder laid flat for a quick footwork section, and at the far end, a shallow wading pool already filled with water and a few floating rubber rings.Â
âCouples Challenge!â Bianca announced in her best game-show voice. âObstacle course, timed, two people per team.â
The rules were simple: one partner was blindfolded, while the other gave directions. The blindfolded one had to collect five items scattered along the courseâsome on the ground, some in the poolâand bring them back to the table.Â
âWhoâs blindfolded?â Jin asked you.
âYou,â you said without hesitation.
âBrave choice,â he said, smirking.
It wasnât brave so much as strategic â you wanted to see how well he listened.
The whistle blew, and he took off at your first shouted instruction, surprisingly obedient for someone who talked so much. You told him when to duck, when to reach, and when to turn left, and he hit every marker with precisionâexcept for the part where he nearly tripped into Dante during the cone section.Â
âThat was sabotage,â Jin complained, handing you the last item after splashing through the pool of water.Â
âSure it was,â you snarked, laughing as you sprinted for the finish together.
You didnât win, Jungkook and Yuri took that, but you were still a little breathless, both from running and from how quickly youâd fallen into sync.
Ripping off the blindfold, Jin caught your eye. âTold you Iâm good at winning,â he quipped.
You smirked. âShame you didnât this time.â
He leaned in just enough for you to hear him over the noise. âThereâs more than one way to win.â
Later in the evening, the villa had finally gone still.Â
Dinner was over, music had faded, and most of the others had either gone up to the bedroom or were sprawled out in the lounge, half-asleep in front of the TV. You were in the kitchen rinsing a glass when you heard him behind you.
âBusy?â
You didnât bother to turn around. âWild night,â you said, setting the glass upside down to dry on the dish rack.
Footsteps padded closer, then he was leaning against the counter beside you, so close his shoulder nearly brushed yours.Â
âYou were good today,â he said.
âAt the challenge?â
âAt everything.â He let the words sit for a beat, then added, âYou make a good partner.â
You glanced at him. âEven when I make you run through a wading pool blindfolded?â
âEspecially then,â he said, lips curling.
You turned back to the sink, pretending to fuss with the tap. âGuess I should thank you for breakfast, too.â
âYou could,â he said. âOrâŚâ He leaned a little closer, voice dropping. âYou could tell me what you were actually thinking during the game last night.â
You stilled. âWhat makes you think I was thinking anything?â
âBecause I was watching you,â he said, quiet enough that the words slid under your skin. âAnd Iâm good at winning, remember?â
You met his eyes. There was a flicker thereânot smug, not teasing, something else. You almost asked him what game he thought he was winning, but his gaze held yours too steadily, and you looked away first.
âYouâre ridiculous,â you said.
âAnd youâre avoiding the question,â he countered.
The sound of laughter from the lounge broke the moment. He stepped back just enough to let you breathe again.Â
âTomorrowâs a new day,â he said lightly. âMaybe Iâll get my answer then.â
And then he was gone, leaving you staring at the empty doorway, wondering why your heart was doing that uneven thing again.
The villa bedroom was dim except for the soft yellow glow spilling from the bathroom. Voices from the lounge drifted in through the open doorâlaughter, the muted clink of glassesâbut in here it felt slower, quieter.
Jin was already at the sink. Brushing his teeth with unhurried precision. You slipped in beside him, reaching for your own toothbrush. The counter was narrow enough that your elbows almost touched.
He caught your eye in the mirror, toothpaste foam at the corner of his mouth. âThis is romantic,â he deadpanned.
You snorted, spitting into the sink. âTry not to ruin it.â
When you both finished, you reached for the pump of foaming cleanser that the producers had lined up with everyone elseâs personal toiletries. Jin stepped back just far enough to give you room, leaning against the doorframe to watch you lather your face.
âYou take skincare seriously,â he said.
âYou donât?â you asked, rinsing off the suds.
âOf course I do.â He moved in again, bending over the sink to splash water on his face before patting it dry with the hand towel. âThisââ he pointed between the two of youââis a joint effort.â
You reached for your moisturizer, smoothing it into your skin. Beside you, he did the same, though he was clearly using more than necessary just to make you laugh.Â
When you were done, you tied your hair into a loose knot at the crown of your head and stepped out into the bedroom in a fresh pair of pajamas, soft baby blue shorts paired with a matching cropped tank top.Â
You sigh as you approach your new bed assignment, post-coupling. If asked, though, you would never admit to feeling antsy about having to sleep next to Jin. The sheets were cool against your legs when you sat on the edge of the bed as you waited for Jin to emerge.Â
Jin came out a moment later, his powder pink pajama pants hanging low on his hips, topped with a vast expanse of bare, golden skin. âYou take the blankets,â he threw out. âI run hot.â
The dip in the mattress as he sat down on his side of the bed snapped you out of your stupor. Tearing your eyes away from his toned bare chest, you shifted back against the pillows, âI wasnât worried about you freezing to death.â
He scoffed before slipping fully onto the bed next to you, resting back against his own set of pillows. âHow do you feel after today?â
âIt was a long day.â
âMm. Youâre thinking too hard.â
You turned your head toward him. âAnd youâre not?â
His mouth twitched. âIâm always thinking. I just donât let people see it.â
The fan clicked softly in the silence that followed. His gaze held yours, unblinking, and for a second, it felt like he was about to say something else. Then his eyes looked to the ceiling.
âTomorrowâll be different,â he murmured.
âHow do you know?â
âI just do.â
You didnât push. The space between you and him stayed the same, but you could feel the heat permeating from his body without touching. It made your skin hum, your breath shallow.
Eventually, he reached over and turned off the lamp.
âGoodnight,â he said into the dark.
You lay there with your eyes open, listening to the even rhythm of his breathing, and wondered if youâd still be able to sleep if he moved any closer.
đĽ˝
Jin decided mornings in the villa werenât so bad.Â
The sun was warm, the coffee was strong, and everyone was too sleepy to be competitive or flirty yet. Heâd already been in the pool once, mostly to mess Jungkookâs perfectly set hair, and now he was leaning against the rail, sunglasses low, watching the place wake up fully.Â
When you stepped out from the hallway in a loose white cover-up layered over a black bikini, he spotted you instantly. The group chatter faded a little. You looked around like you were still half in a dream, and then your eyes found him.Â
âYouâre late,â he called.
âItâs nine a.m.,â you tossed back, brow lifting.
âExactly,â he replied, tossing you the sunscreen that was resting on the towel next to him. You caught it without looking away from him. Good reflexes.
The morning had that lazy, stretched-out quality of a vacation you didnât have to pay for. A little sun, a little floating in the pool, the light flirting, the occasional burst of laughter when Dante failed to push Jungkook into the deep end. Jin stayed close enough to talk to you without making it obvious, letting the easy atmosphere work in his favor.
For a while, it almost felt like no one was playing the game.Â
By midday, the villa had shifted into that easy, slow rotationâpeople peeling away from the pool to pair off for chats, drifting back again when the conversation dried up.
Jin was leaning at the bar, sipping a glass of iced water, when Yuri passed by in a lemon-yellow bikini, sunglasses pushed up into her hair.Â
âWalk with me?â she asked, tilting her head toward the deck.
He smirked. âThat sounded dangerously close to a line.â
âOnly if you want it to be.â She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for him to follow.
He did, falling into step beside her as they wandered toward the far edge of the deck. The boards underfoot were warm from the sun; the salt tang from the ocean hung in the air.Â
âSo,â she began, â whatâs your type on paper?â
âYou first,â he said.
âI asked you.â
âWhich is why Iâm smart enough not to answer yet,â he replied, smiling when she laughed.
âAlright⌠tall, funny, nice eyes.â She paused. âAnd maybe a little cocky.â
âCockyâs subjective,â he said, leaning on the railing so the wind caught his hair.Â
They traded easy lines like that until they looped back toward the main villa, where Dante was leaning against the wall waiting.
âMind if I steal him?â Dante asked Yuri.
She grinned, wiggling her brows. âBe my guest.â
Jin let Dante lead him to the side steps, where the noise of the pool faded.
âSo, you and your partner⌠are you solid?â Dante asked, resting his elbows on the railing.
Jinâs smile was slight but sly. âDefine solid.â
âSolid like⌠not looking elsewhere.â
Jin took a slow drink. âBetter questionâis anyone here not looking elsewhere?â
Dante chuckled, but Jinâs attention was already sliding past him, scanning the sunlit yard until he found you. Sitting under the shade, legs curled under you, laughing at something Jungkook had just said. Jin caught himself lingering on the sound a little longer than he intended.
đ
The heat was reaching a point where the pool felt less like fun and more like a survival challenge. Maya plopped down beside you on the daybed, fanning herself.
âCome with me,â she said, tugging at your arm.
âWhy?â
âGirl talk. Before the boys ruin my good mood.â
You let her pull you through the villa garden, the two of you stepping around potted palms until you found a bench tucked into the far corner where the cameras had to crane to catch you.
âOkay,â she said, tucking one leg under herself. âNamjoon. Whatâs the verdict?â
You raised an eyebrow. âThe verdict on what?â
âWhether you think heâs into me, or just good at making eye contact.â
You smiled. âBoth are possible.âÂ
She groaned. âYouâre no help.â
âFine. I think heâs interested,â you said. âHe watches you when he thinks no one notices. Youâre not imagining the interest.â
That earned you a slow grin. âAlright. Iâll take it.â
By the time you made it back to the pool area, Leo was leaning against a pergola post, arms folded.
âGot a minute?â
You hesitated, then followed him toward a patch of shade by the fence.
âSo how are things with your partner?â he asked, glancing toward where Jin was talking with Dante,
âFine,â you said.Â
âFine like⌠fine, or fine like youâre hoping for an upgrade?â
You laughed. âWow. Straight to it.â
âI donât do small talk,â he said.
You tilted your head. âAnd you think Iâd tell you if I was looking for an upgrade?â
He smiled faintly. âSometimes itâs not about what you say.â
The silence that followed wasnât uncomfortable exactlyâbut it wasn't neutral either. The pause that followed stretched just long enough for you to notice movement across the deckâJin, sunglasses in place, looking right at you.
đĽ˝
The morning had been moving slowly, and the heat made every movement feel like an effort. Someone was making iced coffee in the kitchen, Jungkook was starfished on a lounger, and Jin was halfway to claiming a hammock when the villa speakers crackled to life.
âIslanders, gather on the front lawn immediately.â
There was the usual groaning, but feet started shuffling across the deck toward the grass. Under the palms, a neat arc of little bistro tables waited, each with two chairs and a sand timer in the middle. Drinks sat ready, condensation sliding down the sides.Â
âThis,â Namjoon muttered beside him,â is a trap.â
âOr fun,â Jin countered, grinning.
The villa voice explained the rulesâa few minutes per partner, rotate at the bell, see who can âadaptâ the quickest. Jin decided heâd adapt just fine.
He ended up across from Yuri first. She leaned in, chin propped on her hand. âOkay, rapid-fire,â she said. âWhoâs the loudest snorer here?â
âJungkook,â he answered instantly.
She laughed. âThat was too fast. Youâve thought about this.â
âIâm living in the same space. I am just good at noticing things.â
They spiraled into a debate about shared chores until the sand ran out, her laugh still carrying as they swapped seats.
Lana was next, and she had a way of looking at people like she was already inside their heads.
âAre you here to win,â she asked, stirring her drink lazily, âor to fall in love?â
Jin tilted his head. âWhy not both?â
Her mouth curled. âDangerous answer.â
He smiled, letting the silence sit just long enough to make her shift in her seat before he changed the subject, asking about the strangest date sheâd ever been on. She was mid-story about a man who tried to sell her life insurance when the time ran out.
Before the next rotation began, the villa voice boomed: âIslanders, your next conversation might be with someone new.â
The side gate swung open.
The newcomer walked in like he owned the sunlight, wearing a sleeveless shirt and golden skin, and a smile so wide it felt like it was the sun itself. The cheers that went up were instant.
âHoseok,â the voice said, âtake the empty seat across from the islander who caught your eye first.â
The scan was quick. Twice around the group, and then his gaze landed exactly where Jin knew it would.
You.
He crossed the grass without hurry, rested a hand on the back of the chair opposite you, and sat. You smiledâa little unsure, but brightâand leaned in as the timer flipped.
Jinâs partner for the round, Maya, was already smirking at him as he sat down.
âDo you want me to start talking,â she asked, âor just let you keep staring over there?â
âPlease, talk,â Jin encouraged, dragging his eyes back, âMake it sound like youâre telling me something scandalous so it looks good for TV.â
Maya rolled with it, inventing a dramatic fake confession about stealing from a hotel minibar. She kept it going until they were both laughing, but stillâevery time the breeze shifted, Jin caught the sound of your laugh with Hoseok, and his attention was pulled like a magnet.
Rotate.
The scrape of chairs was interrupted by the gate opening again.
A new bombshell entered, a woman this time. Her orange bikini was a perfect complement to her mocha complexion.Â
âIsla,â the voice prompted, âTake a seat with the Islander you most want to get to know.â
Her eyes landed on Jin without hesitation. âYou,â she said, sliding into the chair opposite.
âSo youâre the funny one,â she said, tilting her head.
âAmong other things,â he replied smoothly.
âProve it.â
He launched into an exaggerated story about being defeated by an arcade claw machine, acting out the moment it stole his prize. You laughed loud enough to draw glances, but his gaze still drifted past her â to where you were now sitting with Jungkook, their shoulders tipped toward each other, easy smiles trading back and forth.
Rotate.
And once again, the producers held up the next round. The gate creaked open.Â
âTaehyung, join the circle.â
Jin looked up immediately. There he wasâloose linen shirt half-buttoned, hair falling into his eyes, moving with that slow confidence Jin knew too well.
âHyung,â Taehyung greeted as he passed.
âDidnât know you were coming,â Jin replied.
âHmm. I know what you are doing. Interesting strategy youâre playing,â Taehyung shot back, already scanning the tables.
The voice directed him to choose his seat. His gaze drifted and stopped on you.
He crossed the grass, pulled out the chair opposite you, and sat.Â
Jin leaned back in his chair, a smile affixed to his face. Adaptability, huh? He had it. But this was about to become a different kind of competition entirely.
đ
The villa lawn looked like something out of a catalogue-small white tables in a neat half-circle under the palms, little sand timers in the center of each, iced drinks sweating down the glass. Everyone was still adjusting their sunglasses when the villa voice finished explaining: two minutes with each partner, bell rings, rotate.
Namjoon took the first seat across from you, his long legs stretching out casually under the table.Â
âSo,â he said, resting an elbow on the arm of his chair, âbiggest red flag in a partner?â
You laughed. âI feel like I should say something deep and meaningful, but⌠bad texters. Itâs unforgivable.âÂ
That earned a grin. âSo if I waited three hours to replyââ
âYouâd be dead to me,â you said, pointing your straw at him for emphasis.
He chuckled, leaning in like he wanted to keep the rhythm going. âAlright, what if I sent a meme instead of words? Does that buy me time?â
âIf itâs a good one,â you allowed.
ââGoodâ is subjective,â he countered. âDo you want clever, or do you want absurd?â
âClever,â you decided.
âDangerous choice,â he said. âAbsurd memes are the backbone of any strong relationship.â
The laugh that escaped you felt unforced, and for a moment, you forgot a dozen conversations were happening around you. Over his shoulder, though, you caught a brief flash of Jinâs sunglasses as he settled at his own table, head tipping slightly like he might be looking your way. You blinked, looked back at Namjoon, and found him watching you with an amused tilt of his head.Â
âDid I lose you already?â he teased.Â
âNot at all,â you said, smiling.
âGood,â he replied, tapping the edge of your glass slightly with his fingertip. âMeans Iâve got at least another minute to impress you.â
You traded little storiesâhis worst communication fail was accidentally sending his location to the wrong group chat; yours was forgetting to reply for an entire week. He laughed so hard at that he nearly knocked over his drink just as the last grains of sand fell through.Â
Dante slid into the chair next, leaning forward on his forearms, grin sharp enough to feel like a challenge.Â
âAlright,â he said, âare you happy in your couple, or are you open to changes?â
You arched an eyebrow. âBold for two minutes.â
âTwo minutes is all Iâve got,â he shot back, unblinking.
You smirked. âIâm happy enough.â
ââEnough,â huh?â his eyes glinted. âThatâs an interesting choice of words.â
You took a slow sip of your drink, âOr maybe itâs a safe one.â
âSafeâs overrated,â he said easily.Â
There was a beat of silence before you flipped the question back on him. âWhat about you? Happy in your couple?â
âContent,â he said, then smirked. âBut Iâd be lying if I said I wasnât curious about a few other people.â
The implication lingered just long enough to be noticed. Somewhere across the lawn, Jin laughed at something his partner saidâthe sound sharp enough that your eyes flicked toward it before you caught yourself. Danteâs grin told you he hadnât missed it.
âInteresting,â he murmured.
âWhat?â
âNothing,â he said with exaggerated innocence. âJust making mental notes.â
Before the next partner could sit, the villa voice cut in: âIslanders, your following conversation might be with someone new.â
The side gate swung open.
Hoseok stepped through like heâd been born to make an entranceâsleeveless shirt, golden skin, that wide, bright smile that felt like the sun shining on you. A ripple of cheers and whistles went up.
âHoseok,â the voice said, âtake the empty seat across from the Islander who caught your eye first.â
You didnât breathe for the moment it took him to look around. Twice his gaze swept the circle, and then it locked on you.
When he reached your table, he rested one hand lightly on the back of your chair before sitting, his eyes still locked on yours. âHi,â he said, his voice low and warm, âthought Iâd start strong.â
You smiled before you could stop yourself. âConfident.â
âIâm told it works for me.â he leaned in slightly, elbows on the table. âAnd it seems like it might be working right now.â
You tilted your head, pretending to weigh it up. âJuryâs still out.â
He grinned, teeth catching the sunlight. âThatâs fine. Give me two whole minutes to change their minds.â
He asked what your first impression of the villa was, and you told him the truthâthat it was surreal to be living in a postcard.
âGood answer,â he said. âMineâs that everyone here is better looking than the people I was warned about.â
âThatâs a very safe thing to say on day one,â you teased.Â
He shrugged, âIâll get bolder.â
âYou sure about that?â
His smile widened. âAbsolutely. For example, I already know youâre the most interesting person here.â
You gave a short laugh, shaking your head. âYou donât even know me.â
âIâll fix that.â His eyes were steady, deliberate. âWhatâs one thing I should know about you?â
You thought for a second. âIâm terrible at lying.â
His grin tilted. âThatâs useful.â
âHow?â
âMeans Iâll always know where I stand with you. Which is rare here.â
Somewhere in your peripheral vision, your attention is pulled again to Jin at another table, ignoring his partner to stare at you talking with Hoseok. You flicked your gaze back to Hoseok, who had noticed the split second of distraction.
âI didnât lose you already, did I?â he asked lightly.
You shook your head quickly. âStill here.â
âGood,â he said, leaning in just a touch closer, voice dropping. âIâd hate to waste my opening round.â
Time ran out, pulling you back a fraction before you could respond.
Jungkook dropped into the chair across from you with a wide, open grin, hair a little mussed from the breeze.
âAlright,â he said, barely letting you settle before launching in, âmost embarrassing habit?â
You grinned. âSometimes I eat cereal for dinner.â
âThatâs not embarrassing,â he protested. âThatâs genius. Iâve had ramen for breakfast.â
You laughed. âSo weâre both innovators.â
âExactly,â he said, pointing between the two of you like it was official.
âSo tell me more about this fear of microwaves. I still donât get it.â
âYup.â He nodded solemnly. âThey hum weird. And the light insideâitâs like the foodâs being interrogated.â
You snorted so hard you almost choked on your drink. âThatâs the most specific fear Iâve ever heard.â
âItâs valid!â he insisted, though his mouth twitched like he knew how ridiculous it sounded. âI just donât trust them. Iâll use a stove. Or cold food. But those things? No.â
âThat explains a lot about villa life,â you teased. âHave you been avoiding the kitchen at night?â
âMaybe,â he said with mock shifty eyes, âOr maybe Iâm just hoping someone else will warm up my leftovers for me.âÂ
âAre you making fun of me for it?â
âI absolutely am,â you confirmed.
âGood,â he said with a wink. âBetter than pity.â
Before you could volley back, the time ran out.
Just as you began to shift toward your next partner, the producers paused the rotation.
The gate creaked open.Â
âTaehyung, join the circle.â
You looked over.
He stepped through in a loose linen shirt, half-buttoned and hanging just enough to catch the breeze, hair falling into his eyes. The smile he wore wasnât bigâjust a slight curve that made it hard to look away. His gaze moved across the tables, unhurried, until it found you.
âGuess Iâll start here,â he said, pulling out the chair opposite you.
The moment he sat, it felt differentâslower, heavier in the air. He didnât rush with questions. He simply looked at you, like he was reading the lines of your face before deciding where to begin.Â
âWhat would you change about this place?â he asked finally, voice low.
You tilted your head, thinking. âMore shade,â you said. âLess feeling like Iâm baking under a spotlight.â
âMm.â he glanced upward at the palm fronds overhead. âI could sit in the sun all day.â
âThen youâd have the villa to yourself,â you teased lightly.
He smiled at thatâsmall, but real. âMight be worth it.â
He asked about your ideal day off, and you described something simple. Coffee, music, no schedule. He nodded like he was filing it away. Then, âWho do you trust most here?â
You hesitated, fingers brushing the condensation on your glass. âToo early to say.â
âFair,â he said. âBut you seem like youâll know when you know.â
Somewhere over his shoulder, you caught Jinâs voiceâa laugh you recognized instantly, easy and warm. The sound tugged at you for a second before Taehyungâs eyes brought you back.
He leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the table. âDo you always look away when youâre thinking?â
Your lips parted in surprise. âWas I?â
âYes,â he said, and for a moment it felt like heâd noticed more about you in thirty seconds than some people had all week.Â
The seconds slipped by faster than you wanted. His knee brushed yours under the tableânot hard enough to be an accident, not soft enough to be ignored. The low hum of voices around you blurred, and the space between you felt smaller than it was.
The time ran out, but his eyes stayed on yours for one more beat before he finally leaned away.
đĽ˝
The tables were already being dragged back toward the villa wall by a couple of crew members when Jin stood, stretching lazily. Conversations around him had splintered into smaller groups. The new arrivals moved through them like theyâd been here all week.
Isla got to him first.
âFunny guy,â she greeted, eyes bright. âMind if I steal you for a second?â
Jin flashed a grin. âYou can try.â
She laughed, leading him to the low wall by the pool. She leaned back against the stone, arms folded loosely, as though sheâd already claimed the better position.
âSo,â Isla started, âdo you always make people laugh that easily, or was that just for me?â
âIâm adaptable,â he said smoothly, folding his arms. âSome people need charm. Some people need jokes.â
âAnd me?â
He gave a slow smile. âStill deciding if youâre worth using both on.â
She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. âDangerous talk this early.â
âYou started it,â he countered, a playful edge in his voice.
They traded lines like cards, testing each otherâs timing. She was quick, faster than most, but every so often, over her shoulder, Jin caught sight of you. Hoseok was leaning on the daybed, his arm draped casually behind you. You were smiling, the kind of smile that had weight behind it.
Islaâs voice cut back in. âWhatâs your worst habit in relationships?â
He tore his gaze away from you. âGetting bored easily,â he answered, watching her reaction.
Her brows lifted, amused rather than offended. âGuess Iâll have to keep you entertained.â
A few minutes later, Jin found Lana perched on the poolâs edge, ankles submerged, idly kicking at the water.
âYou didnât get to finish your terrible date story from earlier,â he said, nodding toward the empty space beside her. âThought Iâd give you the floor.â
She grinned and shifted, making room. âYouâre going to love this one. He took me to a restaurant where he clearly knew the waitress, like, really knew her. And not in the âold friendâ way.â
Jin leaned back on his hands. âPlease tell me you made it awkward.â
âOh, I did,â she said proudly as she angled her body toward him further. âOrdered dessert for the three of us and asked for extra spoons, and then invited her to join us.â
He barked a laugh, picturing it in his mind. âThatâs brutal. I like it.â
They swapped a few more stories, each one more ridiculous than the last, but Jin wasnât fully anchored in the conversation. Across the pool, you were with Namjoon now, sitting in the shade, your knees pulled up as you laughed at something heâd just said.
Lanaâs voice broke through his thoughts. âYouâre distracted.â
âAm I?â he asked lightly, though he didnât deny it.
Her smirk suggested she knew more than she was letting on. âBetter hope whoeverâs stealing your attention isnât as interesting as me.â
Jin gave her an easy grin, but his eyes drifted again, just for a heartbeat.
đ
Hoseok caught you before youâd even pushed your chair back in toward the table.Â
âWalk with me?â he asked, already angling toward the daybeds without waiting for your answer.Â
It wasnât really a walkâhis pace unhurried, like there was nowhere else to be. You ended up on a wide daybed, cushions soft under your legs. He sat close enough that his knee brushed yours when he turned toward you, one arm slung along the back of the cushions, casual but clearly making a statement, his fingers a hairsbreadth from touching you.Â
âBe honest,â he said, leaning closer. âWas I your favorite round?â
You smirked. There is just something about him that makes you want to smile. âCocky, much?â
âI prefer to call it confident.â He leaned a bit closer, head tilted toward you. âAnd I usually have good instincts about these things.â
âIâm not ranking anyone,â you replied, sipping your drink.
âThatâs fine,â he replied, his grin sharpening. âMeans I still get to prove it.â
You huffed a soft laugh. âYou donât waste time, do you?â
âWhy would I?â he challenged, the answer smooth and sure. âI know what I want.â
There was no hesitation in the way he said it.
He asked about your first impressions of the villa, and you teased him about showing up late.
âYou looked calm,â you observed. âLike youâd already scoped the place out.â
âI had,â he admitted without a beat of shame. âStanding outside for a few minutes, watching the game. Figuring out who Iâd want to talk to.â
You tilted your head. âAnd you decided on me?â
The slightest pauseâdeliberateâbefore his smile widened. âI decided Iâd regret it if I didnât.â
The villa felt strangely quiet in that moment, even with laughter and splashing somewhere nearby. You were aware of the faint scent of his cologne, the heat of his knee against yours, the way his gaze didnât drift for even a second. Somewhere in your peripheral vision, Jin was leaning against the pool wall with Isla, but when you looked back at Hoseok, his smile deepened like he knew where he wanted your attention to be.
Later, you were the one doing the pulling.
Namjoon was standing near the kitchen island, idly mixing berries into a bowl of yogurt. You touched his arm lightly. âCome outside with me for a second?â
He followed you to the shaded end of the deck, sitting underneath a neon sign that said âSoul Ties.â
âI realized I didnât ask you anything in our round,â you said. âSo, tell me something unexpected about you.â
He thought for a moment, then grinned. âI can juggle.â
âReally?â you asked, skeptical but smiling.
âBadly. But I can.â He mimed tossing something in the air, making you laugh.
âYouâre going to have to prove that eventually.â
âDeal,â he said easily. âBut only if you promise not to laugh too hard when I drop everything.â
There was an easy, unforced flow to the conversation; things were light and filled with teasing jabs. He told you about his habit of accidentally collecting books faster than he could read them; you confessed you once tried to grow herbs in your kitchen and killed them all within a week.
âI respect the effort,â he said with mock seriousness. âBut maybe stick to eating herbs instead of growing them.â
âNoted.â
It was comfortable and warm; the kind of chat that didnât make your pulse spike but left you smiling. At one point, though, you glanced toward the far side of the pool and spotted Jin sitting at the edge with Lana, his grin tilted in that lazy way that was hard to read. Namjoon followed your gaze, but didnât comment. Instead, he asked, âSo, whatâs the one thing you do want to grow here?â
You met his eyes, the question lingering between you. âWeâll see.â
đĽ˝
The sky was dripping in sunset, all bruised purples and tangerine streaks, the kind of backdrop producers loved. Re-emerging from inside the villa, dressed in cocktail attire, the group of people gravitated toward the large lounge area, drinks in hand. Soft lighting illuminated the deck, and the music being piped in through the hidden speakers had been shifted to an easy, lazy beat.Â
Jin claimed a corner seat early, sprawling with practiced ease, one ankle balanced on his knee. Tonight, heâd swapped his earlier shirt for a loose cream linen button-down, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the top two buttons undone like he wasnât even trying. He knew the look worked, and the camera guy hovering near the deck agreed.
From here, he had a clear view of the whole group without appearing to be trying.
Taehyung had everyoneâs attention, describing, with far too much hand choreography, the âonce in a lifetimeâ meal he had in Paris. People were laughing, leaning in.
Jinâs gaze skimmed past them, casual⌠until it landed on you.
You were curled in the corner of the couch opposite, bare legs tucked under you, the soft drape of a light blue slip dress catching the gold of the fairy lights every time you shifted. Hoseok had settled down beside you, wearing a black short-sleeve button-up shirt patterned with small white flowers, open enough to show a hint of his tan skin.
He passed you his drink without hesitation, and you accepted without a second thought.
Jinâs jaw tensed once before he masked it with a sip of his own. Not jealous. Just aware.Â
âFavorite thing about the villa so far?â Islaâs voice pulled him back. Sheâd perched on the arm of the chair, a red dress falling over crossed legs, the fabric brushing his sleeve.
âThat itâs big enough to escape bad small talk,â he replied smoothly, a slight sting laced through.
She laughed, nudging his shoulder. âAnd yet youâre still here.â
âMaybe Iâm making an exception.â His tone was even, but his eyes betrayed him for a fraction of a second, sliding past Isla to where Hoseok leaned in close, whispering something that made you laugh into his glass.Â
When Isla followed his gaze, her smile shifted. âAh,â she said lightly, âso thatâs where your attention is.â
Jin only smiled. âObservation skills like that could get you far here.â
đ
The cushions dipped as Hoseok slid beside you, the faint rustle of his shirt brushing against your bare arm. He was all easy charm in a black short-sleeve button-up patterned with tiny white flowers, top buttons undone just enough to hint at the warm skin and sharp collarbones beneath.
âYou looked like you needed this,â he said, handing you a cold glass.
You wrapped your fingers around it, condensation damp against your palm. âObservant.â
âAlways.â His arm stretched along the back of the couch behind you, casual but close enough that the heat of him ghosted against your bare shoulders when you leaned back.
You smoothed the hem of your light, blue slip dress over your thighs, the fabric catching the glow of the fairy lights above. Taehyungâs voice carried across the lounge. His Paris story was absurd enough to make you cover your mouth mid-laugh.
âGood laugh,â Hoseok complimented, eyes lingering on your mouth.
âNeitherâs the view,â you replied, lips curving as his smile deepened.
Hoseok didnât look away, and the weight of his gaze settled low in your stomach. âYou know thatâs the kind of line that makes me think youâve already picked a favorite.â
âMaybe I have,â you said with a smirk, âor maybe I just like keeping people guessing.â
He chuckled, low and warm. âGuessing can be trouble. Gives people room to imagine.â
You were about to reply when movement across the deck caught your attention. Jin was still in his corner seat, his cream linen shirt glowing under the lights, as Isla leaned in to say something in his ear. He was smilingâpolite, practicedâbut his eyes, when they lifted, locked with yours across the noise and chatter. It was only a second, but it was steady, unbroken.
Hoseok noticed the pause. âSo,â he said, angling slightly closer, âwhoâs winning in that head of yours right now?â
Your smirk deepened. âNow, why would I tell you and ruin the suspense?â
âFiine,â he said, leaning back marginally, but sliding his hand to cup your bare shoulder. âIâll just work harder.â
You hid your grin behind your sip, feeling the faint hum of adrenaline in your chest. Across the way, Jinâs gaze still hadnât shifted away.
The conversation around the fire pit drifted from travel stories into the kind of questions that only surface when everyoneâs settled in, feeling a buzz, and with nowhere to be.
Taehyung leaned forward, grinning like heâd just thought of something brilliant. âAlright, everyone, name the most ridiculous thing youâve ever packed for a trip.â
Lana groaned. âOh no, this is going to expose people.â
Dante went first. âA juicer. Like, a full-on countertop juicer. Used it twice before airport security wanted to fight me.â
Isla shook her head, laughing. âThatâs a lot of dedication to pulp.â
Namjoon lifted a hand sheepishly. âA giant coffee table book about endangered birds. It weighs more than my entire wardrobe.â
You blinked. âForâŚreading?â
âFor appreciating the photography,â he said thoughtfully. âAnd maybe a little for company.â
Jungkook jumped in before anyone could tease him further. âA portable karaoke mic. Wireless. Echo setting and everything.â
âPlease tell me you used it,â Maya said.
âEvery single night,â he replied proudly. âAnd one morning.â
Hoseok grinned.. âMineâs a little worse. A full suite of matching pajamas for every night of a trip. Like, button-up silk sets. Three colors.â
You laughed. âDo you plan to wear them here?â
âNot yet,â he said, eyes glinting. â But maybe if youâre lucky, youâll get to see them. And if youâre nice, Iâll even let you feel them.â
All eyes turned toward you. You smoothed your dress over your hip, feeling the heat of the attention. âA glittery water bottle shaped like a pineapple. It leaks. I still love it.â
âThatâs commitment,â Jin inserted, leaning forward slightly.
âAlright, Mr. Perfect,â Taehyung said. âYour turn.â
Jin didnât blink. âA framed photo of myself.â
Yuri stared. âThat has to be a joke.â
âNo,â he said, grinning. âIn case anyone forgets who the best-looking person in the villa is.â
The group broke into groans and laughter. You shook your head, and over your glass, you caught his gaze. He winked.
Once everyone answered, Taehyung sat back, clearly pleased with the chaos heâd created. âYup. Iâm going to start making this a daily thing.â
With that declaration, folks splinter off and head to different parts of the outdoor area. Lana and Dante drifted toward the balcony, Taehyung hooked Isla into helping him hunt for snacks in the kitchen, and Namjoon ended up with Jungkook by the pool, debating whether the inflatable swan counted as furniture.
You stayed on the couch, idly running your finger along the condensation on your glass. Hoseok shifted, moving a little closer as he turned toward you, his knee now resting solidly against your thigh.
âSo,â he said, voice low enough that it felt separate from the ambient noise around you. âDo you always steal the spotlight like that?â
You gave him a look. âPretty sure you and your silk pajama confession got just as much attention.â
He smiled slowly. âMaybe. But I noticed more people were watching you than laughing at my joke.â
It was smooth, and you felt the warmth creep onto your cheeks before you could stop it.
Before you could reply, movement caught your attention. Jin had skirted around the fire pit and slipped into the empty spot next to you. He leaned back, close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne.
âAm I interrupting?â Jin asked, his tone playful and teasing, which could be interpreted as either polite or pointed.
Hoseokâs smile didnât falter. âNot at all. We were just about to swap more travel stories.â
Jinâs gaze flicked between you and Hoseok, lingering half a second too long on the way Hoseokâs arm was curled around you. âSoundsâŚcozy.â
âItâs called conversation,â Hoseok said, still smiling, but his tone had a playful bite.
You raised a brow. âDonât tell me youâre jealous of travel stories now.â
âJealous?â Jin let out a soft laugh, shifting slightly closer and resting his hand on your thigh right above your knee. âNo. Just making sure youâre getting the full villa experience.â
Hoseok glanced up at him, his smirk tightening at the edges. âSheâs in good hands.â
âAre you?â Jin asked you, and this time the question was pointed enough to shift the vibe in the air.
You felt your own smile tug wider despite yourself. âI think I can decide that for myself, thanks.â
âThatâs fair,â Jin said, eyes still resting on you. âBut if you ever want the upgraded experienceâŚâ
Hoseokâs hand tightened ever so slightly where it cupped your shoulder. âYouâd have to convince her itâs worth the switch.â
Jinâs lips curved, not backing down. âOh, I plan to.
Neither of them broke eye contact, the moment stretching until you awkwardly laughed, the abrupt sound just enough to break the tension without dissolving it entirely. But you could feel the gauntlet that had been thrown down.
Before either of them could push further, Mayaâs voice rang out from near the bar. âHey! You guys need to see this. Dante found something!â
You turned to spot Dante holding a bright orange envelope, as if it were radioactive. Jungkook was beside him, already trying to pry it open, grinning like a kid about to break the rules.Â
âIt was under one of the beanbags,â Dante said, looking half-amused, half-suspicious. âAnd it says Villa Secrets in big letters.â
âThatâs either amazing or terrifying,â Maya said, tucking her hair behind her ear, âand either way, weâre opening it.â
Around you, everyone began to gather in lazy groups around the white bar. Hoseok stood first, extending a hand to you without hesitation.
You took it, feeling the easy strength of his grip as he pulled you up. Jin fell into step on your other side, his arm brushing yours in a casual, but not accidental, way.
Neither man spoke, but their awareness of each other was sharp enough to feel like static in the air.
By the time you reached everyone else, Jungkook had already ripped open the envelope and unfolded the card inside. His grin turned wicked. âOh yeah,â he said, glancing around the circle forming, âthis is gonna stir things up.â
Jungkook held the card up as if it were a sacred text. âAlright. Villa Secrets is simple. The producers have sent us anonymous confessions about the people in this villa. We read one out loud, then the group has to guess who itâs about.â
âSounds like trouble,â Maya said, grinning.
âThe best kind,â Yuri countered, settling onto a barstool.
Jungkookâs phone chimes. Flipping it open, he read, âThis person once pretended to be fluent in Italian for an entire date.â
Dante immediately pointed at Maya. âThatâs you.â
Maya laughed. âNo, but Iâm impressed. Who was it?â
âGuilty,â Yuri admitted, hand raised. âI knew how to say help, thank you, and pizza. That was it.â
The group laughed. Someone elseâs phone chimed. Taehyung straightened up, pulling his phone out. âThis person once took over 200 selcas before picking one to post.â
The group groaned and laughed before anyone guessed.
âThatâs Jin,â Maya said, shaking her head.
Jin shrugged. âTwo hundred and six, actually. You canât rush art.â
âThis person got banned from a hotel for trying to adopt the lobbyâs parrot.â Dante read out from his phone.
âLeo,â several people said at once.Â
Leo grinned sheepishly. âIt liked me first. I was just returning the energy.â
The following few confessions drew a mix of groans and laughter. Dante once accidentally mooned a crowd while cliff diving, Maya had broken her wrist during a drunken conga line, and Jungkook had been caught crying over a cartoon finale.Â
Hoseokâs phone chimed next. âThis person once got caught sneaking into a wedding for the free cake.â
âLana,â you offered.
Lana sighed dramatically. âThe cake was average. The champagne, howeverâŚâ She trailed off with a mischievous smile.
Itâs your turn next. âThis person travels with their miniature disco ball.â
âTaehyung.â Jin inserted without hesitation.
Taehyung grinned. âNever know when a dance floor might break out.â
Then Isla read one that shifted the air. âThis person once kissed someone less than an hour after meeting them, and it happened on this very island.â
The group erupted instantly.Â
âNo way!â Maya gasped.
âThatâs fast work,â Dante said, laughing.
âToo fast,â Yuri chimed in, âunless it was a dare.â
âOr unless it was them,â Leo said, his eyes darting between you and Hoseok.
That earned a fresh round of goading. Maya leaned forward. âWait. You two have been looking awfully chummyâŚâ
Hoseok didnât break his smile. âIâm flattered, but Iâm not saying a word.â
âThatâs suspicious,â Jungkook said, pointing at him.
âSuspicious would be denying it too fast,â Hoseok replied easily, his gaze sliding to you for a heartbeat before he looked away.
You raised your hands in mock innocence. âDonât look at me. Iâve barely had time to unpack.â
âSure,â Maya drawled, but she was grinning.
Across the circle, Jin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. âFeels like someoneâs dodging the question,â he said lightly, though his eyes didnât leave Hoseok.
âThatâs the game,â Hoseok said, his tone smooth.
Jungkook tapped his fingers against the bar. âThe producers say weâre not allowed to reveal the answer. Guess weâll have to keep an eye on you two.â
Yuri sat forward, looking at her phone. âThis person says theyâve already got their eye on someone in the villa, but they havenât made a move yet.â
The circle immediately lit up with guesses. âItâs Jin,â someone called out. âDefinitely Jin.â
âOr Hoseok,â Maya countered.
âOr her,â Yuri challenged, gesturing in your direction with a sly grin, making everyone laugh.
You held your hands up. âWhy am I suddenly a suspect?â
Jinâs smile was slow. âWhy arenât you denying it?â
The group oohed. Hoseok chuckled low. âGuess weâll have to wait and see.â
Jungkook played a small drumbeat against the bartop. âGame over, people... Go cause trouble somewhere else.â
đĽ˝
The game broke apart in a swirl of laughter and teasing. People scattered: Lana dragged Yuri toward the kitchen, Leo headed for the pool with Dante, and Jungkook raided the fridge with Isla.
Hoseok lingered close to you, and Jin could see the intent in his body language that Iâm about to pull you for a chat move. Heâd done it enough times himself to recognize it a mile away.Â
Not tonight.
He stepped in before Hoseok could get a word out, sliding into your space with a grin like this was the most natural thing in the world. âWalk with me?â
Your brows lifted, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward. âWhere to?â
âSomewhere more private,â he said, and when you laughed, he counted that as his first win. He caught the flash of Hoseokâs expression out of the corner of his eye as you nodded and fell into step beside him.
They crossed the deck, the low hum of conversation fading behind them, until they reached the far end of the villaâa quiet nook with a view of the ocean, lit only by the glow from the pool and the moon overhead.Â
âBetter,â Jin said, leaning one shoulder against the railing. âNo one here to throw accusations about who kissed who.â
You smiled faintly, arms folding. âYouâre still thinking about that round?â
âThinking?â His gaze dropped, then came back up to meet yours. âNo. Just making sure no one else gets to write our version of the story.â
Your laugh was softer this time, but it lingered. âAnd what version is that?â
He tilted his head. âThe one where we actually get to talk without ten people shouting guesses in the background.â
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint rush of the tide below and the occasional burst of laughter from the firepit. Your eyes held his just long enough for him to feel the pull in his chest.Â
He stepped closer, not enough to crowd, but enough that the space between you suddenly felt smaller. âYou have this look,â he said quietly, âlike youâre already deciding whether Iâm worth the trouble.â
âAm I wrong to?â you asked, voice low.
He smiled slowly. âThat depends. Do you like trouble?â
Your breath caught, just barely, and he noticedâthe kind of detail he never missed.Â
For a beat, the air between you was thick with something unspoken. He could have leaned in right then, closed the gap. But instead, he let the moment hang, just long enough to make it clear that if anything happened, it wouldnât be by accident.
âCareful,â you murmured, though your tone wasnât warning so much as daring.
âNot really my style,â he murmured.
Your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and that was all the invitation he needed.
He closed the last few inches, the faintest brush of his mouth against yours at first, testing, giving you room to pull back if you wanted to. You didnât. Instead, angled toward him, your breath warm against his cheek before your lips met fully.Â
The kiss was unhurried but sure, his hand lifting to rest at the side over your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw as if he wanted to memorize the shape of it. The distant noise of the villa faded entirely, just the quiet rhythm of the tide somewhere below. His fingers flexed along your neck as you leaned in, angling your head further, inviting him to deepen the kiss.Â
An invitation he readily accepted, a hand curved around your hip and pulled you closer. Your torsos aligned from shoulders to hips as he teased his tongue along the seam of your lips, smirking when he felt your breath catch in your throat.
With one last nip to your lip, he drew back, but didnât move far. He rested his forehead against yours. âSee?â he said softly. âMuch better without an audience.â
Your laugh was breathless, the air buffeting his cheeks, your hands running lightly up and down his arms.
Before anything more could be said, a burst of noise from over by the firepit broke the pocket of quiet youâd carved out. Jin stepped back slowly, reluctantly, his hands sliding away.
âGuess we should get back before they send a search party,â he quipped, though the grin tugging at his mouth told you he had no regrets about being found like this.
đ
The sound of the firepit chatter was still distant when you started walking back with Jin, but the kiss was closerâright there, in the lingering warmth along your lips, in the faint tingle at your jaw where his thumb had been.
He walked beside you like nothing was out of the ordinary, one hand in his pocket, the other brushing against yours just enough to remind you it was there. It wasnât accidental. Jin didnât do accidental.
âBack in one piece,â he said lightly, as though youâd just returned from a supply run instead of slipping off to make out under the moon.Â
You huffed a laugh, but your mind was still replaying the slow lean-in, the way heâd said âMuch better without an audience.â That line was going to live in your head rent-free whether you like it or not.
The glow from the firepit grew stronger, voices sharpening into distinct conversations. You spotted Hoseok almost immediately, leaning back on the daybed, laughing at something Maya had said. Before you could look away, his eyes cut toward you the second you stepped into the light.
They lingered there.
Your pulse jumped. You werenât sure if it was guilt, satisfaction, or something in between, but you didnât look away until Jinâs voice pulled your attention back.
âWant a drink?â he asked, already steering you toward the bar.
It wasnât lost on you that this meant walking past Hoseok. Not a coincidence. Not with Jin.
đŁď¸
âI wasnât expecting that tonight. At all.â
You pause, pressing your lips together for a second, like you can still feel his there. âItâs not like I didnât see it coming. Jinâs been circling all day, but thereâs a difference between teasing someone and actually doing something about it.â
You glance off camera, like youâre checking if the producers are going to push you for details. âAnd okay, yeah, I kissed him back. I wanted to. Heâs confident. In a way thatâs annoying and unfairly attractive at the same time.â
A small laugh slips out before you shake your head. âBut itâs been, what? A few days? Less? And now Hoseokâs here, and heâsâŚâ You trail off, leaning back in the chair. âHeâs different. In contrast, Jin is cocky and self-assured. Hoseok⌠I donât know⌠is bold.â You shake your head. âI donât have the word, but there is just this magnetism about him, and I want to explore that too. And I know Jin has noticed.â
You tap your fingers lightly against the armrest, thinking. âSo now Iâm wondering if Jin is just trying to win? Or was that kiss something more than strategy? Because if it was a strategyâŚâ
You smile faintly, almost to yourself. âHeâs playing a risky game.â
~Cut.~
The sun was already streaming across the villa deck by the time you padded into the kitchen, still damp from the shower. Your skin glowed from the body moisturizer that was laced with the fairest hint of gold rubbed into your skinâa shine that complemented your dark green monokini you had donned. The smell of coffee hung in the air, and the sizzle of something frying came from the stove.Â
Jin was at the stove, flipping an omelet in the skillet with one handâsuch a show-offâwhile sipping from a mug filled with steaming coffee. Of course, he looked like a cooking show hostâeven in loose grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, hair a little mussed.
âMorning,â he said as he spotted you stepping into the open-air kitchen. He didnât disguise the obvious once-over he gave you, and you couldnât deny the warmth that made your skin tighten just a little. âI didnât want to wake you when I got up, but didnât think youâd sleep this late.â
âThreat or promise?â you asked, heading toward the fridge.
âPromise,â he said without missing a beat, and the corner of his mouth curved like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Before you could fire back, Hosekâs voice came from the entryway. âThought Iâd missed breakfast duty.â He stepped in barefoot, hair swept casually back, wearing another loose linen shirt half-buttoned and shorts.
Jin didnât turn, but you caught the tightening in his shoulders. âThereâs still plenty to do,â Jin said, a little too cheerily.
Hoseok smiled, and before passing you, he curled his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug. The hug felt like a warm blanket and, for some reason, seemed just right. He started to pull back, but before stepping away, he pressed his lips to your cheek, leaving a soft kiss.Â
âIâll handle the coffee. You look like you need the good stuff.â Hoseok teased.Â
You opened your mouth to answer, but your brain had stuttered to a stop, fixating on the lingering feel of his lips against your cheek. He was already at the coffee maker before your brain kicked back into action. Your cheeks were warm with heat as Jin cracked an eggshell a little too hard.Â
The three of you moved around each other in the kitchen, the conversation artificially light, but the awareness thick enough that you didnât miss how both of them kept angling toward youâone with his quick wit and sideways glances, the other with quiet attentiveness.Â
By the time everyone else trickled in, you were already wondering how much was about you, and how much was about them trying not to blink first.
The kitchen had been a slow dance around mugs and plates; Jin slid an omelet in front of you, Hoseok set coffee by your hand, both of them making a point of being in your space without colliding.Â
Youâd kept your head down, smiling where it seemed safe to smile, but there was no missing the way Jinâs tone had shifted when Hoseok joined you, or the way Hoseokâs laugh kept landing a little too close to your ear.
When the others drifted in, the moment finally broke. You stood, carrying your mug toward the daybeds to escape the bustle, but Hoseok was already leaning against the doorway, waiting.
âCome with me for a minute,â he said quietly. Hoseok seemed to be making a habit of not asking, but rather telling you what you were going to do.
You hesitated just long enough to catch Jin glancing over from the stove. He didnât call after you, but the flicker in his expression said heâd noticed.Â
Hoseok led you past the pool, with a hand on your lower back, down the side path to the corner of the garden where the cameras still reached, but the othersâ chatters didnât. The bench was warm in the morning sun, and he waited for you to sit before taking the spot beside you.
He stretched one arm along the backrest, turning enough that his knee rested on your thigh. âYou and Jin seem⌠comfortable.â
You cocked your head. âYou sound jealous.â
âIâm not jealous,â he said. And it was true in the way he saidâcalm, confident. âI just donât like wasting time.â
You blinked. âTime doing what?â
His lips curved slowly. âThis.â
Before you could respond, his hand slid from the backrest to the side of your neck, fingers curling just enough to hold you without pressure. He didnât lean in all at once, just enough so you could feel the edge of his breath against your cheek, so you knew exactly what was about to happen.
Your pulse spiked. You shouldâve leaned away, but you donât.
He closed the gap, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that was nothing like Jinâs. No slow build, no testing the watersâjust a smooth, sure claim, his other hand bracing against the bench beside your thigh.
The world shrank to the heat of his mouth and the faint scrape of stubble along your skin. When he pulled back, it was by inches, his thumb brushing once along your jaw before he let go entirely.
âSee?â he said, his voice low, almost conversational. âNot jealous. Just making sure Iâm not standing still while someone else moves ahead.â
Your breath was still uneven, and you hated that he could probably tell. âThatâs one way to put it.â
He leaned back, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. âItâs the only way I know how to move.â
đĽ˝
He hadnât been looking for her.
Not really.
That was what he told himself as he drifted out of the kitchen, mug in hand, pretending he was stretching his legs. The others were inside. Bianca was trying to convince Jungkook to eat something green, and Yuri was perched on the counterâeasy noise to walk away from.
The garden path was quiet, just the sound of the pool filter humming. Then he turned the corner and saw them.
You were sitting back on the bench. Hoseok leaned in, one hand at her neck, the other braced against the seat like he owned the whole damn thing. The kiss wasnât extended, but it was long enough. Enough to make Jin stop mid-step.
For a half-second, his brain took a snapshot: the angle of Hoseokâs head, the way her fingers curled faintly against the bench. Then the heat hitâa low, quick burn in his gutâand he made himself move before they noticed him standing there.
He cleared his throat loudly enough. âMorning cardio?â
They broke apart, and he caught the faint flush along her cheek. Hoseok didnât move far, just sat back with that easy smile that made Jinâs hand itch.
âSomething like that,â Hoseok said.
Jin smiled. âShouldâve said. Iâd have brought a stopwatch.â
He kept walking before either of them could answer, but he knew the cameras had caught it; the smile, the line, the way he gripped his mug just a little too tightly.
đŁď¸
âSoâŚâ He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms loosely. âI took a walk in the garden this morning, thinking maybe Iâll check the weather, maybe Iâll find a nice quiet spot for me to finish my coffee.â
He grinned, all teeth. âTurned out the weatherâs fine. Sunny. Warm. Bit of a breeze. And apparently, very romantic, because guess who I found making use of the scenery?â
He held up a finger, pointing at himself. âNot me.â
The grin stayed, but his tone shifted just a hair. âLook, itâs the villa. People are going to talk, theyâre going to⌠mingle.â His hands made a vague gesture. âBut thereâs mingling, and then thereâs⌠whatever that was. And if someoneâs trying to run up the scoreboard after only a few days, wellââ
He tipped his head, that slow, knowing smile curled back into place. âGame on.â
~Cut.~
đđŁď¸
âI donât really know what to do right now.â
You let out a breath that turned into a laugh, but itâs short and uneven. âBecause yesterdayâliterally yesterdayâJin kissed me. And that was⌠good. Like, scarily good. Heâs funny, heâs confident, heâs been making it very clear that heâs interested.â
You shifted in the chair, tucking your hair behind your ear. âAnd then this morning, Hoseok pulls meâright after breakfast, like he didnât waste a secondâ and he kissed me. Completely different. No slow lead-up, no teasing. He just went for it. And I kissed him back.â
Your gaze dropped for a moment, and you smiled faintly to yourself. âI donât think Iâm the type to play both sides, but itâs hard to ignore that Iâm attracted to both of them for completely different reasons.â
You glanced back toward the camera. âThe problem is, they both know it now. And if theyâre as competitive as I think they areâŚâ You shook your head, lips pressing together. âThis is going to get messy.â
~Cut.~
By late morning, most of the villa had gathered around the pool. Sun loungers were scattered with towels, music drifted from the speakers by the bar, and someone had dumped a tray of fruit and pastries on a nearby table.
You claimed a spot on one of the loungers, sunglasses sliding into place as you stretched out. Hoseok was already there, leaning against the backrest next to you, legs stretched long. Heâd changed into a white tank and swim shorts, and the sun caught on the gold chain around his neck.
It was an easy conversation, light and teasing, until Jin strolled over.
He carried a glass of something iced, condensation running down the side, and dropped onto the empty lounger on your other side. He didnât say anything at first, just tipped his sunglasses down enough to glance at you before pushing them back into place.
âComfortable?â he asked, tone smooth and even, but there was a weight under it that made your skin warm.
âVery,â you said, trying not to shift under the attention coming from both directions.Â
Maya wandered past with Yuri in tow, slowing just enough to clock the seating arrangement. âOoh,â she said, drawing out the syllable. âCozy corner over here.â
It was subtle, the way the air shifted; the kind of change you felt more than saw. Even Bianca, draped over the daybed across the pool, glanced up from her phone.
You reached for your drink, primarily for something to do, and tried to steer the conversation in a less obvious direction. âSo whatâs the plan for the day?â
âWhatever you want,â Jin said.
âSame,â Hoseok added, his knee brushing yours.Â
You were starting to think Mayaâs and Yuri's âtriangle cornerâ comment might end up being the understatement of the summer.Â
The villa chatter bubbled around you. Jungkook argued with Leo about whether the pool was cold, and Yuri was trying to teach Maya a clumsy bit of choreography by the kitchen. And you were in your corner with two very competitive men.
The tension was palpable, like an impending storm on the verge of breaking.
Namjoon wandered over from the bar, drink in hand, sunglasses perched on top of his head. He stopped just short of your loungers, taking in the sight of you wedged between Jin and Hoseok.
âAlright,â he said slowly in that way people do when theyâre about to stir the pot on purpose, âSo which one of you is actually winning here?â
The words landed like a bomb. Conversations nearby dipped, and a couple of heads turned.
âWinning what?â you asked, feigning cluelessness.
Namjoon smirked. âPlease, Iâve been here long enough to see theââ he gestured vaguely between the three of youâ--vibe.â
Jin's mouth curved, but his sunglasses hid his eyes. âPretty sure the only competition is who makes the better omelet.
âOr coffee,â Hoseok added smoothly.
âOr who gets pulled first,â Namjoon countered, clearly enjoying himself.
You could feel the subtle shift of Jinâs arm on his loungerânot touching you, but closer than it had been a moment ago. Hoseok, meanwhile, didnât move, just let his knee stay pressed lightly against yours like he was making a point.
Mayaâs voice floated over from her spot near the pool. âIf this is the triangle corner, I want front-row seats when it turns into a soap opera.â
âWouldnât that be giving the people exactly what they want?â Jin asked, his voice calm, almost bored.
Hoseokâs smile ticked upward. âDepends on who the people are rooting for.â
You took a long sip from your drink, hoping the sunglasses hid the fact that your pulse was doing double-time. This wasnât subtle anymore, and judging by the looks being exchanged across the pool, the whole villa knew.
đĽ˝
The first ping came from somewhere near the firepit. A beat later, Yuriâs voice rang out:Â
âI GOT A TEXT!â
The villa stilled. Even Jungkook resurfaced from the water where he was swimming in the deep end.Â
Yuri cleared her throat, reading in a mock-serious tone: âIslanders, tonight there will be a recoupling. The girls will choose which boy they want to be paired with. The boy who is left single will be dumped from the villa. #GirlsChoice #PackYourBags.â
Laughter, nervous whoops, a few strategic disappearances for âquick chats.â Jin didnât move. His gaze had already found you across the deckâhead tipped toward Maya, smile in place, shoulders set a little tighter than usual. Hoseok was nearby, relaxed as a picture, watching without appearing to be watching.
The afternoon blurred into the soft click of plans setting. When the sun slid low, the villa transformed into two worlds: the girlsâ dressing room, bright with mirrors and perfume, and the boysâ room, a cooler hum of cologne and quiet adjustments. Jin stood at the mirror, fastening cuff buttons on a dark shirt, the linen lying clean across his broad shoulders. In the reflection, Jungkook is smoothing his hair for the third time, Namjoon fixing a watch he didnât need, Leo spritzing cologne and walking through it like mist. Taehyung rolled his sleeves with a casual precision; Dante practiced a grin that didnât quite land. Hoseok leaned against the wall, loose and unreadable.
A glimpse through the open door caught Jin off guardâIsla gliding past in a slip of champagne silk; Biancaâs braid falling over one shoulder; and then your earrings catching the light, dress skimming the line of her thigh. He looked away before he had to admit heâd been staring.
They filed to the fire pit as the sky turned violet. Flames licked the air; cameras watched like silent observers. The host stood in the glow, smile even.
âGirls, tonight itâs your choice,â she started. âOne by one, youâll step forward, tell us why, and make your decision. Bianca, youâre up first.â
Biancaâs chin lifted as she stood. âIâd like to couple with someone who surprised me today,â she said, voice steady. âHeâs calmer than I expected, but thereâs a spark under it.â Her eyes cut to the boys. âTaehyung.â
Taehyungâs mouth crooked, and he walked over to her in a few long strides. Polite applause. A seat taken.
âLana.â
Lana smiled and stood, a little wicked. âI want the boy who makes everything feel like a caper,â she said. âLeo.â
Leo whooped, because of course, and jogged over. Applause again.
âYuri.â
Yuri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. âThe one who made me laugh until I snorted and then didnât make it weird.â A breath. âJungkook.â
Jungkook tried not to grin too big and failed.
âMaya.â
Maya exhaled, then squared her shoulders.âI want to couple up with this boy as he is thoughtful, and he always listens.â Her gaze landed where Jin expected. âNamjoon.â
Namjoonâs relief looked like a smile he tried to hide but couldnât.
The host turns and gestures to you, signaling that it was her turn.
Jinâs spine straightened before he could stop it.
She stood up, firelight threading gold through her hair. âFrom the moment he walked in, he was confident without being pushy,â she said, calm but not casual. âHe makes me laugh, and I want to see what happens if we give this a real chance.â Her eyes moved past Jin and stayed there. âHoseok.âÂ
Hoseokâs grin was wide and bright. He moved toward her in long, eager strides. Without a hint of hesitation, he gathered her in his arms and swept her into a fierce kiss that left them both breathless. Parting, their fingers laced together, and they took their seats. The flameâs reflection ran along the curve of her cheek. Jin let his jaw loosen and kept his face easy. Beneath it, heat pooled low and mean.
âIsla.â
Isla stood up last, silk skimming her knee as she moved. She didnât rush. âIâd like to couple with someone who makes me laugh and who, if Iâm honest, Iâd like to peel back a few layers.â Her mouth tilted. âJin.â
A ripple of noise. He rose, met her halfway, pressed a palm lightly to her back as they turned. He felt Hoseokâs gaze brush him from across the firepit, and he did not look back.
The host waited for the sound to settle. âThat leaves one boy single tonight.â She turned. âDante, you were not chosen. Iâm sorry, but your time in the villa has come to an end. You have thirty minutes to say your goodbyes, pack your belongings, and leave.â
For a moment, only the fire spoke. Then cloth rustled as everyone stood. Hugs happened in little burstsâquick and sincere. Dante clapped Jinâs shoulder, made a joke that didnât land, squeezed Jungkook like a kid brother, and told Yuri to win the whole show for him. And then he was gone down the path, the villa swallowing the sound of his footsteps.
The remaining couples resettled. Bianca leaned in to say something that made Taehyungâs eyes crease. Islaâs perfume lifted when she shifted beside Jin; he kept his posture open, his smile easy.
Across the flames, Hoseok tipped his head toward you to murmur something Jin couldnât hear.
She gave him a small private smile.
Hoseok looked up and met Jinâs eyes across the fire. He didnât smirk. He didnât need to.
The hostâs voice drifted back in. âIslanders, enjoy the rest of your evening.â
fav yoongi fics!!! most of these are oneshots>< Big love and praise to the authors who made these amazing storiesss!!! Most of these are 18+ so... be mindful when reading!!
Your Universe by @muniimyg (series)
MASTERPIECE<33 also my first ever read here on tumblr
Second Love by @cutaepatootie (3parts)
100%<3
Pour Some Sugar On Me by @yoonia
HOOOTTTTT and also messy lol
Act On It by @joonie-beanie
Vampire Yoongi on topppp
Hug-O-Gram by @cinnaminsvga
FLUFFFFF Yoongi is soooo cute helppp
Rings That Binds Us Together by @joyfulhopelox
it's been long since I've read this
Back-burner by @yoonpobs (series)
YESSSS
Private Lesson by @dntaewithluv
erm...
Vows by @hamsterclaw (2parts w/drabble!!)
PURE COMEDY BYEE-
Friend & Fools by @ktownshizzle
idiots
Till The End of The Line by @kimvvantae
got me BAWLING MY EYES OUT
Yoongi's lullaby by @jiminrings
he's an idiot
Love Grows Where You Go by @hueseok
cute heheh
Friendship Over by @borathae
hot hot HOOOTTT
Cherries by @redrose10 (2parts)
:<<<<<<
A Tiger's Judgement by @borathae
praise praise!! The author slayed once again
Ex-things by @namfinessed
idiots....
His entire world by @serendipitous-seven
softtt:<<<<<<<<
Dating Advice by @taleasnewastime (series)
the BESSSTT got me giggling and shii
Love & Lullabies by @ktownshizzle (series)
UGHHHH CUTE DILF YOONGGIIII
Eternal Sunshine by @ilys00ga
<3333
Lunch Break by @borathae
ahem...
Muse by meeeeee (available on wattpad too, click here)
BANGTANWRITERSHQ PRESENTS:Â âHome Is Where The Heart Isâ MASTERLIST
After months of uncertainty and longing, the moment has finally arrived.
Heâs coming home.
You pace by the window, any little noise outside causing you to stop and peer in every direction through the glass pane. You glance at the clock for what must be the hundredth time; itâs only been two minutes since the last time you checked.Â
âWhen will he get here?â you mumble to yourself, trying to calm your racing heart.
You continue to make the short trek back and forth in front of the window, checking your phone for any sign of an update. The sound of footsteps approaching the door stops you mid-step, phone forgotten in your hand. You rush to the entryway, fling the door open, and there he is â your love, in his uniform, looking every bit the man youâve been longing to see again.
âMiss me?â he asks with a smile on his face and tears welling in his eyes.
âEvery. Single. Second,â you reply, your voice catching in your throat.
They say, âHome Is Where The Heart Is,â and our hearts are finally coming home. Itâs been a long journey. Weâve laughed, weâve cried, weâve screamed, weâve rejoicedâŚand now we can take a deep breath because the future is going to be okay.
KEY:
đ - nsfw (mature themes)
â - sfw (no warnings)
đ - smut
â ď¸ - other warnings
SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count
đđâ ď¸Â Unique - Part 3 | @lo1k-diamonds [3/5]
Pairing: idol!Namjoon x OFC
AU/Genre: idol AU, angst, former lovers
Rating: MA [series], PG-13 [chapter]
WC: 11,756
đđâ ď¸ Make It Right Pt 1 | @lo1k-diamonds [1/1]
Pairing: idol!Jungkook x (f)Reader
AU/Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, e2l, idol AU
Rating: MA
WC: 13.6k
đđâ ď¸ Make It Right Pt 2 | @lo1k-diamonds [1/1]
Pairing: idol!Jungkook x (f)Reader
AU/Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, e2l, idol AU
Rating: MA
WC: 13.1k
đđâ ď¸ Moving on | @lo1k-diamonds [1/1]
Pairing: Hoseok x (f)Reader
AU/Genre: Enemies to lovers, one bed trope, smut
Rating: MA
WC: 22,205
đđâ ď¸ Familiarity | @downbad4yoongi [1/1]
Pairing: Seokjin x Yoongi
AU/Genre: exes to lovers, ex-boyfriends, reunion, camping
Rating: MA
WC: 7,430
All stories copywritten of the specified author. The authors provided consent for their stories to the network to be shared by submitting their stories. Stories posted in the order of submission to the event.
đď¸Tags: exes to lovers, ex-boyfriends, reunion, camping
đď¸Warnings: smut đ
đď¸WC: 7,430
#bangtanwhq
Summary:
Seokjin thought Yoongi was his end game. That was until Yoongi left him behind for bigger and better things. Seokjin has moved on and is thriving as a hard-working marketing executive in desperate need of a break. With terrible timing, as usual, Yoongi reappears and wants to try again.
With a sigh, Seokjin sits back in his office chair, tilting his head to the side with a stretch. A low groan escapes at the sudden crack that echoes through the empty office. He glances at the clock on the wall, grimacing at how late itâs gotten. He shakes his head with a tired chuckle, gathering scattered papers into neat piles, quickly shutting down his computer.Â
âAbout time, Jin-ssi,â a teasing voice calls as he steps out of his office, pulling the door closed behind him. He glances over his shoulder to see his coworker, Sooyoung, smirking at him. âFinally decided to let yourself take a break?â
âSomething like that,â Jin replies, palming his keys. âIf anyone asksââ
âI'll tell them youâre unavailable. Completely unreachable.â Sooyoung interrupts, her tone fond but firm. âPlease, just forget work exists for a few days.â
âIâll do my best,â Jin promises, offering a tired but grateful smile. He shoulders his bag and steps past her, heading to the elevator.
âDonât get eaten by a bear!â Sooyoung calls after him, her laughter following Jin into the elevator.
He quickly crosses the vacant lobby of the tall high-rise that houses dozens of various business offices. He can feel his shoulders visibly relax as he steps out onto the sidewalk and takes a deep breath of fresh air. He tosses his keys into the air, catches them, and heads to his sleek, white CUV in the nearby parking garage. He pulls out of the concrete structure, leaving the few cars behind without a second glance.
The drive to Jimin and Jungkookâs house is short, but traffic makes it feel much longer. Itâs late, but this city never sleeps. Jin taps his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, already feeling the tension ease from his shoulders as the weekend ahead beckonsâquiet nights, a crackling campfire, and nothing but the peaceful rhythm of nature.
He pulls into the driveway alongside Jungkookâs pick-up truck, triggering the sensor that turns the porch light on. He slips out of his car just as Jimin steps onto the porch, the light from inside haloing around him. He canât help his smile as his friend eagerly waves at him.Â
Jungkook exits the house, his truckâs keys dangling from his fingers, âHey, hyung.âÂ
âThanks for letting me borrow it. You donât even know how much I need this.â Jin tosses his keys to Jungkook as Jungkook tosses his at the same time. âPromise I wonât get it too muddy.â
âMake it as muddy as you want. It will give it some personality.â Jimin coyly glances over at Jungkook. âAnd in the end, Iâll get some eye candy as he washes it clean.â
Jungkook returns Jiminâs look, sidling closer to wrap an arm around the smaller manâs waist. âThen, please, do your worst, hyung,â Jungkook directs to Jin.
With a roll of his eyes and a quip of the tongue, Jin backs toward the dark gray truck. âHappy to be of service.â
Hopping in, he pulls out of the driveway, leaving the other two behind with a wave.
Morning comes with a chirp of birds and rays of sun crossing the expanse of his bedroom. Jin lingers in the shower, taking his time moving through his morning routine before slipping into a pair of black joggers and an oversized white tee. He shuffles into the kitchen as he straps his watch on, not even needing to really think about the process as he brews a cup of coffee. He stands there for a few moments enjoying the aroma before heading over to where he had already pre-packed everything he needed for his trip.Â
He quickly double-checks that he has everything before he steps back over to the full cup of coffee. Leaning back against the counter, he slips his phone into his hand and reviews his list one more time. Feeling fully reassured, he flips over to Instagram, scrolling a bit to catch up on what his social network is up to.Â
Tilting his head back, he drains the last dregs of his mug before rinsing it out and setting it on the drainer. He starts hauling camping gear out to the truck parked in front of his townhouse. Humming as he works, he carefully arranges the items to fit them as best as possible. Heâs just strapping the tent into place when a long, familiar voice startles him.Â
âYou always made that look harder than it actually is.â
Jin freezes at the sound of the unseen voiceâlow, familiar, and painfully unexpected. He tightens the strap one more time before pivoting slowly. His breath hitches as he takes in Yoongi standing a few feet away, hands shoved deep into his pockets.Â
âYoongi?â Jinâs voice wavers before he steadies it, his eyes narrowing slightly in guarded confusion. âWhat are you doing here?â
Yoongi shifts uncomfortably, eyes fixed intensely on Jinâs. âHonestly, I donât even know how I got here. I just⌠I couldnât stop thinking that something was missing in my life.â
âAnd you thought youâd find it here, of all places?â Jin asks, voice tinged with disbelief.
Yoongiâs gaze softens slightly, sincere and vulnerable. âNo, I thought I might find it with you.â
Jinâs jaw tightens as a complex wave of emotions surges within him. âIâm leaving now, Yoongi. I donât have time to sit here and figure out whatever the hell it is youâre here for.â
âPlease,â Yoongiâs voice drops, quiet and determined. âWe need to talk, hyung.â
âWell, then youâll have to wait, as you can see Iâm busy.â Jin snaps, surprising even himself. He starts to turn his back toward his ex-boyfriend, but hesitates, facing him again. âIf youâre really determined to talk to me, you can come along. But either way, Iâm leaving now.â
Yoongi hesitates briefly, conflict flickering across his face before resolve takes over. With a simple nod, he steps forward and climbs into the passenger side with nothing but the clothes on his back. Jin clenches his jaw, his hand gripping the door handle tightly as he yanks it open.Â
He really didnât think Yoongi would accept the challenge. If he knew anything about his ex-boyfriend, he would have been sure that Yoongi would back down at the thought of spending any lengthy amount of time in the great outdoors.Â
Regret pushes back at the peace that he was previously feeling, and he doesnât know if heâll be able to get it back as he settles next to the diminutive man already settled in the cab of the truck.
The first thirty minutes pass in silence, heavy and awkward. Jin keeps his eyes trained steadily on the road ahead, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles whitening with tension. Yoongi, for his part, stares out the window, tracing patterns absently against the passenger-side glass, the sun shifting higher in the sky, warming the cab around them.
âDid you eat breakfast already?â Yoongiâs voice finally breaks through the silence, low and hesitant.
Jin exhales sharply, caught off guard. He spares a glance at Yoongi before turning back to the road. âIâll eat when we get there.â
Yoongiâs sigh is quiet but noticeable. âStill skipping meals, I see.â
Jin bristles at the observation, fingers drumming restlessly. âDonât start.â
âSorry,â Yoongi mumbles after another pause, shifting uncomfortably. âIâm justâŚtrying, Jin.â
The sincerity in his voice softens Jinâs irritation only slightly, leaving space for a grudging, terse response. âYeah, I know.â
They lapse back into silence, the rhythmic hum of the truckâs engine filling the awkward void between them. The city gradually recedes, giving way to winding mountain roads and dense forest. The tension clings stubbornly between them, an invisible yet palpable barrier.Â
After nearly an hour, Jin clears his throat, desperate for anything to fill the uneasy silence. âHow long have you been back in town?â
Yoongi shifts again, clearly grateful for any hint of conversation. âAbout two days. Mostly staying at a hotel, figuring out if I even had the courage to see you.â
Jinâs grip loosens slightly, curiosity slowly beginning to override his lingering resentment, âYou couldâve just called.â
Yoongi huffs a small laugh, bitter and self-deprecating. âAnd said what exactly? âHey, Jin, remember when I left? Turns out that was a mistake. Can we talk?â Doesnât exactly roll off the tongue.â
Jinâs mouth twitches slightly, despite himself. âYou never were good at talking, to be fair.â
âStill not,â Yoongi admits quietly. âBut Iâm trying now. Doesnât that count for something?â
Jin doesnât answer immediately, gaze fixed intently on the road, rays of light slicing across the road between the towering trees. Finally, quietly, he responds, âWeâll see.â
Yoongiâs breath catches slightly, but he nods and sinks deeper into the seat, seemingly accepting Jinâs ambiguous answers for now. The stifling quiet returns, but less suffocating and more contemplative this time. Jin finds himself subtly easing his grip even further on the wheel as the familiar mountain roads lead them deeper into the forest, bringing them closer to confronting whatever truth awaits them at the end of this journey.
Jin finally backs into his pre-assigned campsite after hours of stilted conversation and headache-inducing silence. He quickly clambers out of the truck, sucking in a lungful of crisp moutain air. Not looking back, he shuts the door, maybe a little more forcefully than intended, and rounds the truck bed to start hauling things out.
On the other side, Yoongi exits more slowly, quietly shutting the passenger door. Jin feels Yoongiâs eyes on him, an unreadable weight against his back, but he doesnât turn around. Instead, he grabs the tent bag, unhooking the strap roughly, frustration still simmering beneath his skin.
âNeed help?â Yoongiâs voice drifts hesitantly from a few feet away, cautious and uncertain.
Jin glances up, half-surprised that Yoongi is even offering. He shrugs, trying to appear indifferent. âSure. You can grab the smaller bags and set them by the fire pit.â
Yoongi nods, approaching the truck bed and peering at the jumble of camping equipment. After a beat, he lifts a piece of equipment, his brows drawn as he turns it over, confused.Â
âThatâs a camp stove and definitely not one of the small bags I asked you to grab.â
Yoongi scoffs, glaring pointedly at him. âNot all of us grew up doing this. You know that.â
Jin huffs a quiet laugh, the familiarity of their teasing suddenly making his chest ache with memories. He quickly sobers, shaking himself mentally. âFine, justâŚhold the stove. That shouldnât be too hard.â
Yoongi rolls his eyes, holding it with exaggerated care. âBetter?â
âMuch,â Jin replies dryly and begins transferring the gear out of his truck and setting things in the general area he wants them to end up. Yoongi worries at his lip, watching for a couple of minutes before finally setting the stove down on the wooden picnic table in the center. Quietly, he starts following behind Jin, carting the items he's sure wonât have the perfectionist mad at him.
The silence shifts to Yoongi awkwardly standing there watching Jin unfold the tent poles with practiced efficiency. He moves automatically, slipping the pieces together as muscle memory takes over; the rhythmic clicks serve as a soothing balm against his frayed nerves.
After a long pause, Yoongi speaks quietly, voice barely audible over the nighttime whispers of the surrounding forest. âI missed watching you do things like this.â
Jinâs hands falter, heart stuttering sharply. He swallows thickly, refusing to look up. âYoongiââ
âIâm not trying to start anything right now,â Yoongi interrupts quickly, voice gentler now. âJust⌠it feels good. Familiar.â
Jinâs shoulders sag slightly as he secures the tent frame. His voice is quiet but firm. âFamiliar doesnât always mean good, Yoongi. Sometimes it just means comfortable.âÂ
Yoongi nods slowly, âMaybe. But maybe it also means thereâs something worth fighting for.â
The quiet sincerity in Yoongiâs voice sends a tremor through Jinâs chest. He straightens abruptly, avoiding Yoongiâs searching gaze as he grabs the tent canvas. âWe should get this set up. Itâs getting late, and I donât want to do it in the dark.â
Yoongi hesitates a moment before silently stepping forward, holding the canvas as Jin instructs him, their fingers brushing awkwardly at times. Jin pretends not to notice the small shivers each accidental touch sends racing up his spine, focusing instead on the task at handâignoring the subtle warmth that blossoms in his chest as they quietly set up camp underneath the setting sun.
Once the tent is secured, Jin steps back to inspect their work, nodding in quiet approval. The silence between them has settled into something softer now, less raw but still charged with uncertainty. Yoongi shifts awkwardly next to him, glancing around the campsite.
âIs there something else I can do?â Yoongi asks, voice still hesitant but determined. âPreferably something that doesnât involve holding a camp stove?â
Jin lets out a small chuckle despite himself, running a hand through his hair. âCan you manage gathering some firewood without hurting yourself?â
Yoongi scoffs lightly, though amusement flickers in his eyes. âIâll do my best.â
âGood,â Jin murmurs, motioning vaguely toward the tree line. âFind smaller branches, nothing too damp. Stay close enough so you donât get lost.â
âIâm not a child, Jin-hyung,â Yoongi mutters, though the faint curve of his lips softens the scolding as he moves toward the edge of the clearing.
âCouldâve fooled me,â Jin shoots back dryly, turning away quickly with a faint smile. He busies himself organizing their supplies, unrolling sleeping bags, and preparing the fire pit, welcoming the distraction of simple tasks.Â
By the time Yoongi returns with an armful of slightly damp but usable firewood, Jin has arranged their cooking gear, coolers, groceries, camp chairs, and lanterns, making the campsite now cozy in its simplicity. Jin wordlessly accepts the wood from Yoongi, arranging it neatly in the fire pit and quickly lighting a blaze. Flames flicker to life, casting dancing shadows over their tense, tired faces.Â
They eat a simple dinner of premade gimbap. Conversation comes sparingly, with careful questions met by guarded responses, each of them cautious not to delve too deeply, too quickly. Eventually, silence takes over again, filled only by the crackling fire and distant rustling of wildlife in the underbrush.
Night falls completely, leaving only the dying flames to cast shadows over the space. Jin shifts in his camp chair and stretches, his bones aching from exhaustion and the emotional weight of the day. âWe should get some rest,â he mutters quietly, eyeing the tent hesitantly.Â
Yoongi nods, glancing at the small tent, clearly uncertain. âRight.â
The tight space inside the tent feels impossibly small as they settle, each pointedly avoiding the otherâs eyes, their bodies stiff with tension. Jin turns away, pulling the sleeping bag over himself, back towards Yoongi, where he lies next to the taller man on a thick pad of folded blankets with the rest piled on top of him. He tries ignoring how Yoongiâs quiet breathing fills the small space, achingly familiar.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, Jinâs mind refusing to quiet, swirling with unanswered questions and complicated emotions.Â
Finally, Yoongiâs voice drifts softly from the darkness behind him, hesitant but weighted with meaning. âThanks, Jin. For not turning me away.â
Jin swallows hard, heart thudding in the small space between them. âDonât read too much into it.â
âIâm trying not to.â
Silence stretches. Jin pulls the sleeping bag tighter.
âGoodnight, Yoongi.â
âNight, hyung.â
The simple exchange settles around them, bridging the emotional distance just enough to ease the tension slightly. Eventually, Jin succumbs to sleep, one thatâs restless with unending tossing and turning, all because every fiber of his being is aware of Yoongiâs presence mere inches awayâhis presence painfully familiar.
Jin wakes to muted sunlight filtering through the tent fabric, creating a gentle glow around him. The air is cool, fresh, tinged with the earthy scent of pine and morning dew. He blinks slowly, consciousness coming in waves until the sound of Yongi shifting softly beside him jolts him fully awake. Jin lies still, staring at the tent ceiling, painfully aware of Yoongiâs quiet breathing, too close and yet entirely unreachable.Â
âMorning,â Yoongi says, voice low, roughened by sleep.
Jin swallows, throat dry. âMorning.â
Neither moves at first, suspended in the tense, awkward silence of their shared space. Finally, Jin exhales sharply and sits up, rubbing his eyes. âIâll start breakfast,â he mutters, crawling quickly from the tent, leaving Yoongi behind.
Outside, the brisk mountain air helps clear his head. Jin stretches his stiff muscles, rummaging through his bags to find fresh clothes â a soft thermal shirt, a pair of worn jeans, and a flannel to complete the outfit. He pulls his shirt over his head, the cool breeze sending shivers down his spine. He hears the tent rustle behind him, but doesnât turn around.Â
âIâŚdidnât exactly think this through,â Yoongi admits quietly, stepping into the open, arms crossed protectively over his chest as he eyes Jinâs neatly organized belongings. âGuess Iâll make do.â
Jin hesitates, then reaches into his bag, pulling out a spare long-sleeved shirt and offering it silently. Yoongi takes it with a murmured thanks, turning away briefly as he swaps shirts, movements cautious and reserved. Jin tries to ignore the fleeting glance at Yoongiâs pale skin and the warmth creeping unbidden onto his cheeks.Â
Pushing the unwanted thoughts aside, Jin busies himself preparing breakfast. Soon, the campsite is filled with the inviting aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon. Yoongi sits quietly at the picnic table, hands wrapped around a warm mug, eyes distant.Â
It isnât long before Jin sets aluminum plates onto the wooden surface, laden with an egg and veggie scramble, accompanied by perfectly fried bacon.
They eat slowly, any conversation stilted and sparse, punctuated by awkward silences and cautious glances.Â
âSo,â Jin finally breaks one of those silences, pushing eggs aimlessly around his plate, âHowâs work?â
Yoongi shrugs, gaze fixed on his mug. âGood. Busy, I guess. I produce mostly now, less performing, more background stuff.â
âSounds like what you always wanted,â Jin replies neutrally, though his chest tightens at the reminder.Â
Yoongi meets his eyes briefly before looking away again.Â
âWhat really brought you back, Yoongi?â
Yoongi shifts uneasily, taking a long sip of coffee before answering. When he speaks, his voice is quiet but clear, heavy with vulnerability. âFor years, I thought I was doing exactly what Iâd always dreamed of. And I was, but every achievement felt emptier than the last. I kept pushing harder, hoping the next project, the next song, would fill whatever void I had. But it never did.â He pauses, eyes now firmly fixed on Jinâs face, unguarded and pleading. âAnd every time, I found myself thinking about you. About us. I thought maybe I just missed home, missed the familiarity. But it was more than that. I missed feeling whole, feeling understood. And the only time Iâve ever felt like that was with you.â
Jinâs throat tightens painfully, his chest aching from Yoongiâs words. He opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, he sighs, running a hand over his face. âYou couldâve said something sooner.â
âI didnât think youâd want to hear from me,â Yoongi whispers, eyes dropping to his coffee mug again. âNot after the way things ended.â
Jin studies him silently, caught between resentment and empathy, memories tangling tightly in his chest. Finally, he sets his fork down sharply, the metallic clang echoing loudly through the quiet campsite. He looks across the table, locking eyes with Yoongiâanger, curiosity, and unresolved pain mingling within him.
âYou know,â Jin says, voice deceptively calm, âitâs pretty bold of you to just show up here after all this time and say these things, like Iâm supposed just to accept them.â
Yoongi bristles at Jinâs tone, lifting his chin stubbornly. âIâm not expecting you to just accept anything. Iâm just telling you the truth.â
âYour truth,â Jin corrects sharply, eyes flashing. âA truth you conveniently discovered after leaving me behind.â
Yoongi clenches his jaw, looking away as his fingers tighten around his mug. âI never claimed to have handled things perfectly, Jin-hyung. But we both made choices. I left, but you didnât exactly fight to keep me.â
âWhy would I have?â Jin retorts sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice despite his attempt to hide it. âYou were the one chasing something bigger, something better. How was I supposed to compete with that?â
Yoongi exhales harshly, frustration sparking visibly behind his dark eyes. âIt wasnât about bigger or better. It was about doing something that mattered to me. You couldâve come along. We couldâve found a wayââ
Jin laughs, the sound harsh and grating, shaking his head in disbelief. âAnd abandoned my life, my career, just like that? It's not even like you asked, Yoongi. You just assumed I wouldnât.â
âBecause you never gave me any reason to think otherwise,â Yoongi counters heatedly, leaning forward, expression raw. âYou always acted like everything you needed was right here. Why would I assume youâd suddenly drop everything for me?â
âMaybe because I loved you,â Jin snaps, voice loud enough to startle birds from nearby branches. He freezes, cheeks heating immediately at the sudden admission, but his gaze remains fixed defiantly on Yoongi.
Yoongiâs eyes widen briefly before he recovers, voice dropping to a strained whisper. âLoved. Past tense?â
âWhat did you expect?â Jin replies quietly, voice brittle now. âYou walked away, Yoongi. You left me here, and now suddenly youâre back, expecting what exactly? That everything would just pick up right where we left off?â
âNo, of course not,â Yoongi mutters defensively, gaze dropping away briefly. âBut I hopedâmaybeâI thought you might still feel something, too.â
Jin swallows painfully, the vulnerable honesty in Yoongiâs voice pulling at him in ways he isnât ready for. He sighs deeply, running a frustrated hand through his hair. âDo you know how hard it was after you left? It wasnât just loneliness. It was losing every future weâd imagined together. Every single one.â
âI felt that too,â Yoongi admits softly, hesitantly meeting Jinâs gaze again. âYou think I wasnât miserable? Every success felt meaningless because you werenât there. I thought achieving my dreams meant something, but it never didânot fully. Not without you.â
Jin shifts uncomfortably, heart pounding as he searches Yoongiâs expression for any sign of dishonesty. Finding none, he sighs, tone turning softer but still wary. âYouâve always been good with words when you need to be, Yoongi.â
Yoongi smiles weakly, voice tinged with a gentle teasing that feels achingly familiar. âAnd youâve always been good at pretending you arenât affected by them.â
Jin scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tug upward despite his resistance. âDonât flatter yourself.â
âToo late for that,â Yoongi murmurs, leaning back slightly, the tension in his posture softening fractionally. âYouâre already smiling.â,Â
Jin scowls, though it lacks true irritation, eyes flickering downward briefly before returning stubbornly to Yoongiâs face. âItâs justâŚitâs complicated, Yoongi. This isnât something we can fix in one weekend.â
âIâm not asking you to fix anything overnight,â Yoongi replies earnestly. âBut I do think itâs worth trying, Jin, at least trying to figure out if thisâif usâis still something we both want.â
Jin exhales, hesitating. Vulnerability flickers through his expression, brief and telling. âAnd if we do try, what happens when things get hard again? Are you just going to run off like before?â
Yoongi flinches slightly, but holds Jinâs gaze steadily. âI wouldnât make that mistake again. Trust me, nothing out there was worth losing you.â
Jinâs throat tightens painfully, but he doesnât immediately respond. The silence settles around them again, heavy and charged, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze. Finally, Jin speaks softly, voice roughened by emotion.Â
âWe have this weekend. No promises beyond that.â
Yoongi nods slowly, accepting the fragile boundary Jin has set. âI can work with that.â
They share another quiet look, uncertainty and hope mingling openly between them for the first time since their reunion. Jin returns to his coffee, the warmth steadying his trembling hands as he silently acknowledges that shift that has begunâa careful, tentative step toward something that might be healing, or heartbreak, or perhaps both.
The remainder of the day passes in fragmentsâsmall moments that pile atop each other, slowly breaking down the barriers Jin and Yoongi had carefully built over time.Â
They hike along a winding trail, Jin leading confidently while Yoongi follows, quietly cursing under his breath each time a low-hanging branch catches him unaware. Jin tries â and fails â not to laugh, the sound soft and bright, echoing through the quiet forest. Yoongiâs feigned annoyance only lasts until Jin reaches back, instinctively offering his hand over a particularly rocky incline. The warmth of Yoongiâs palm against his sends sparks racing up Jinâs spine, lingering even after Yoongi has safely climbed up beside him.
As they rest beside a creek, Yoongi sits with his back against a sturdy tree trunk, silently watching Jin skip stones across the water. The light catches Jinâs hair, and Yoongiâs gaze softens visibly, unguarded affection coloring his expression. Jin turns abruptly, catching him staring. Instead of looking away, Yoongi holds Jinâs gaze steadily, eyes smoldering with quiet intensity, and he feels heat rising to his cheeks.Â
Later, once back at camp, they cook dinner side by side over a low-burning fire, their movements slowly syncing into a familiar rhythm. Yoongi tries seasoning the soondubu jjigae, earning a gentle teasing from Jin about his overuse of garlic. Yoongi retorts with a playful jab at Jinâs questionable obsession with overly spicy kimchi. Their laughter intertwines easily, warmth seeping deeper into each exchange, brightening their shared space beneath the stars.
Yet, not everything is smooth. An argument flares unexpectedly, harsh heated words breaking the eveningâs calm as Yoongi stubbornly insists he doesnât need Jinâs help with the firewood. Jin, equally stubborn, reminds him sharply of his lack of experience.Â
 âMaybe I just wanted to prove I can be useful.â
Jinâs mouth snaps shut at the quiet admission that Yoongi throws out, frustration evident in his voice. Jinâs irritation fades instantly, replaced by shame, as he quietly acknowledges, âYou never needed to prove that to me.â
By the following morning, the careful walls between them have become dangerously thin, each glance lingering a little longer, each accidental brush of fingers igniting deeper longing. Yoongiâs reserved smiles begin to reach his eyes more often, making Jinâs heart ache with recognition of how desperately heâs missed seeing them.
As the sun sets, Jin watches Yoongi from across the campfire, the golden glow casting warm highlights on Yoongiâs features. Yoongi feels the weight of Jinâs gaze and meets it directly, challenge and invitation clear in his dark eyes. The quiet tension between them thickens until itâs almost tangible, crackling around the fire.Â
That night, as they crawl into the tent, Jinâs heart pounds loudly, each beat reverberating in his ears. Their bodies settle inches apart, warmth radiating through the layers of polyester and fleece. Jin lies rigidly, hyper-aware, just like the previous night, of Yoongiâs closeness. A new layer of tension coalesced in the air, making his breathing uneven, every nerve on edge.
The silence stretches unbearably long, filled only with the sound of their breathing, rapid and shallow. When Yoongi finally shifts, rolling to face Jin in the dim lighting from the lantern placed in the corner, Jin holds his breath, frozen in anticipation.Â
âYeah?â Jin answers, equally quiet, pulse racing.Â
Yoongiâs fingers brush lightly against Jinâs wrist, hesitant, testing the boundary. âCan IâŚ?â
Jin exhales shakily, feeling every ounce of his resolve crumble beneath Yoongiâs touch. He turns his hand over slowly, letting Yoongiâs fingers thread gently through his own. âYes.â
That single whispered word breaks the last thread of resistance between them, and suddenly Yoongi shifts closer, their breaths mingling in the scant inches that separate them.
Jinâs heart pounds as he feels Yoongiâs warmth pressing close, realizing just how long heâs wanted thisâneeded this. The longing, stretched thin by years apart and days of cautious rebuilding, snaps taut between them.Â
âYoongi,â Jin breathes, voice strained with emotion, âplease.â
And with that single plea, Yoongi closes the distance completely, pressing their lips together in a kiss filled with desperation, relief, and deep, undeniable need.Â
Yoongi kisses him like heâs afraid Jin might disappear againâslow at first, searching, their lips brushing once, twice, before deepening with a kind of quiet desperation that only distance and time create. Jin responds in kind, his fingers tightening around Yoongiâs as he rolls toward him fully, closing the last of the space between them.
Their bodies align naturally, like theyâve never forgotten the way they used to fit. Jin shudders as Yoongiâs hand slides up his arm, over his shoulder, and into his hair, tugging gently as he angles his head to kiss him deeper. Jin parts his lips with a soft sigh, letting Yoongi in, tasting a flood of memories on his tongue.
Itâs careful at first, reverentâlike theyâre relearning each other inch by inch. Jinâs hand finds Yoongiâs waist under his shirt, fingertips grazing skin that is still familiar, warm and firm beneath his touch. Yoongi groans softly into Jinâs mouth at the contact, his hips pressing forward instinctively.
The friction sparks something electric between them, and suddenly, careful turns hungry. Jin slides his thigh between Yoongiâs, pulling him closer, drawing another low, aching sound from deep in Yoongiâs throat. They kiss until itâs not enoughâuntil hands start tugging at clothes in the cramped space of the tent, laughter and breathless curses slipping between them when elbows knock against nylon and zippers snag.
Jin pulls Yoongiâs shirt over his head, dropping it somewhere behind them before pressing his mouth to Yoongiâs throat, teeth grazing a spot just below his ear. âStill run hot,â he murmurs against the skin, tongue flicking out, smiling when Yoongi gasps.
âYou talk too much,â Yoongi breathes, fingers fisting in Jinâs shirt before yanking it off with impatient hands.
âMake me stop then,â Jin challenges, eyes dark and playful, and Yoongi surges to meet himâmouth on Jinâs collarbone, then chest, kissing and biting his way down with a focus that leaves Jin dizzy.
Hands roam freely now, rediscovering familiar curves and dips. Jinâs head tilts back as Yoongi mouths at his nipple, teasing until Jinâs hips lift of their own accord. When Yoongiâs hand slips into his waistband, Jin gasps, one hand shooting out to grip the younger manâs lower arm.
âWait,â Jin pants. Yoongi pulls back immediately, eyes wide, concern flaring.Â
âToo fast?â he asks, voice tight, almost afraid.
Jin shakes his head, eyes soft, even as his chest heaves. âNo. I just want to see you. All of you.â
Yoongiâs breath catches, but he nods and lets Jin undress him slowlyâeach movement deliberate, reverent, like unwrapping something fragile. When theyâre both bare in the low lantern light, casting shadows around the intimate space, they simply look at each other for a moment, letting the intimacy settle like a weighted blanket over them.
Then Jin reaches for him, guiding Yoongi onto his back before straddling his hips. He leans down, kissing him slowly and deeply, grinding down, teasing them both. Twin shivers work down their spines as insistent pressure keeps their hips pressed together.
Cutting through the moans spilling from Yoongiâs lips, Jinâs wet lips drag across the heated skin of Yoongiâs cheek to tongue at the sensitive skin of Yoongiâs lobe. âAre you ready for more?â he whispers.
Yoongi nods aggressively, âYes.â
Jin catches the other manâs lobe between his teeth, pulling roughly. âAnd what do you need to do to get more?âÂ
Yoongi arches up beneath him, fingers gripping the lithe waist of the man hovering over him. A whine escapes his clamped lips as he tries to pull Jin down on top of him, wanting to feel every inch of his skin pressed against the otherâs.
Jin tenses, resisting the pull. âUh-uh. Good boys know what they need to say to get what they want.â
The skin between his brows pinches together as he scowls, wanting to resist. Itâs a test of wills as they stare at each other. Yoongiâs jaw flexes as Jinâs lips curl into a smirk, knowing that the younger man will capitulate.
Like it is being pulled from the depths of his chest, Yoongi utters those magic words. âPlease, Sir. I need you. Please use me, sir.â Giving in to the same familiar bedroom dynamic that has always driven them wild.
Jinâs swollen lips spread into a cocky grin. âSee, that wasnât so hard, was it?â
Yoongiâs cheeks flush pink with heat. âNo, Sir. It wasnâtâ
Jin leans down, rubbing his nose along Yoongiâs, peppers him with kisses, then seals their lips together. Diving straight in as his hand palms Yoongiâs cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. Drawing whimpers from the smaller man as he slips his hand up and down with a twist at the end. Time seems to draw out as Jin brings Yoongi to the edge, leaving him panting for more.
Jin shifts away, coming back with a small bottle of lube that he found stowed away in the side pocket of one of his packs. Returning to Yoongi, Jin settles between his spread legs. Slicking up three fingers on his right hand, he slides his other hand along the milky expanse of hisâŚhe doesnât know what to call him, but that doesnât stop him from gripping the manâs thigh and pressing it back towards his chest.
He teases a digit against Yoongiâs puckered hole, pulling his lip between his teeth as it flutters at the teasing touch. From beneath shuttered lashes, Jin watches Yoongi as he gently, but firmly, presses inside through the tight ring of muscle persisting until his knuckles press to the flesh of Yoongiâs ass.Â
Yoongiâs breath shudders out of him, wiggling his hips subtly as he adjusts to the stretch. With a barely heard whimper, Yoongi pleads for more. âSir, please.â
âIâll take good care of you, baby.â Jin strokes the length of Yoongiâs thigh and starts prepping him with practiced care. His lengthy fingers, gentle but firm, watching Yoongiâs face twist with pleasure as he stretches around him, breath hitching with every push and curl against his walls.Â
Yoongiâs hips twitch as he feels warm breath caress between his legs. Not having any time to brace before the warm cavern of Jinâs mouth engulfs him. A loud moan is wrenched from him as Jin slides down his length in one go.
Each curl of Jinâs fingers accompanied by the sharp suction of his mouth has Yoongi singing a symphony, such a beautiful melody. Jin grips Yoongiâs firmly, fingers bruisingly tight, to keep him where the older man wants him. Despite the rough grip, Yoongi can't stop writhing as he's driven absolutely insane at the pleasure being wrung from him.Â
Right as Yoongi is sure that he is going to come down Jinâs throat, Jin withdraws his fingers, and pulls away from his cock with one last lingering suck of his lips. Jin looks down at Yoongi, satisfied with the tears he can see pooling in the corners of Yoongiâs eyes.Â
Sitting back on his haunches, he slicks his cock up, adding a hefty amount of lube to himself as he prepares to replace his fingers with something larger.Â
âYou were such a good boy. I think you deserve a reward, donât you?â Jinâs heated gaze rakes over the man spread before him. Yoongi looks utterly debauched: face and chest flushed, cock dripping steadily onto the smooth skin of his belly, and his stretched hole fluttering and begging to be filled. He smirks and chuckles low in his throat, as Yoongi hurriedly bobs his head in agreement.
Jin pulls his hips back, the pressure moving away from where Yoongi is desperately needing him. âUh-huh, what have I always said?"Â
Yoongi looks needily up at him, âGood boys use their words."Â
âSoâŚ?" He trails off.
âYes, I deserve a reward. I've been such a good boy for Sir."Â
Jin smirks. " You're completely right. You have been so good for me.â
When heâs finally sinking into Yoongi, itâs slow, torturous, Yoongiâs name a broken sigh on his lips. They still for a moment, foreheads pressed together, bodies trembling with the weight of being back here, together, like this.
Jin rolls his hips first, testing the waters and encouraged on by Yoongiâs breathy moan. Soon enough, he is setting a rhythm thatâs deep and unhurried. Each thrust feeling like a promise, each slide of their lips against each other a confession remaining unspoken. Yoongiâs hands roam over Jinâs back, nails dragging down lightly, breath stuttering with every precise thrust that hits just right. His own body retaliates with a pulsating squeeze of its own, pulling a strangled moan from deep within Jin.Â
They move together in sync, gasps and moans filling the small tent, hips slapping softly in the rising heat.Â
âYouâre doing so well for me,â the hushed words brush against the moist skin of his lips as Jin leans down, catching Yoongiâs lips again, swallowing the whimpers as his pace quickens.Â
Every praise Jin worships him with has Yoongi thrashing beneath him, his dark black curls haloing around his head. Unable to hold back any longer, Yoongi snakes his hand between them, stroking himself in time with Jinâs thrusts, and it doesnât take long before they are both unravelingâYoongi falling first, coming with a hoarse cry as his body arches off the ground, clenching tightly around Jin.
Jin is pulled right over the cliff with Yoongi scant moments after, burying his face in Yoongiâs shoulder with a strained moan as pleasure crashes over him in waves. Like his strings have been cut, Jin collapses on top of Yoongi, their heaving chests sticking together adhered together with the sweat and cum spread across their skin.Â
They remain like that, for countless minutes, panting and clinging to each other, sticky and sated.
When Jin finally pulls back, he looks down at Yoongiâhair messy, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bruisedâand feels something crack open in his chest.
âStill talk too much,â Yoongi mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion and tenderness.Â
Jin laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yoongiâs mouth. âAnd you still like it.â
They clean up in silence, exchanging soft touches and half-smiles, neither ready to say what theyâre both thinking. They curl into each other, their bodies pressed close together, with the sleeping bag spread fully open beneath them and blankets piled on top of them.
Sleep washes over them, and the sweet words whispered into the dark taper off into quiet, only disturbed by the rustling of leaves and the scurrying of nocturnal animals.
Jin wakes to warmth.
The sun filters through the mesh window of the tent in soft gold ribbons, illuminating the few specks of dust in the air and casting lazy shadows across the fabric walls. But itâs the warmth of Yoongi beside himâskin to skin, leg thrown haphazardly over his thigh, breath puffing softly against his neckâthat anchors him.
Jin blinks slowly, not quite ready to move. Not prepared to let go of the weightless feeling that had taken root sometime after they fell asleep.
âI know youâre awake,â Yoongi mumbles sleepily, voice rough and low against his skin.
Jin huffs a quiet laugh. âYou always did know.â
Yoongi stirs, but doesnât pull away. Instead, he props himself up slightly to look at Jin, his eyes soft and searching. âMorning.â
âMorning.â Jin hesitates, unsure of what to say next, of how to name the thing they did last night, what it means now, in the brightness of day. But Yoongi, as always, fills the silence first.Â
âDo you regret it?â
Jin exhales slowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the tent. âNo. I donât.â
Yoongi nods, but doesnât smile. âBut youâre not sure what it means.â
âThat obvious?â
Yoongi shrugs, letting his head fall gently back onto Jinâs shoulder. âWeâve always been terrible at timing.â
Jin hums quietly, fingers brushing against the curve of Yoongiâs back. âTiming isnât the only thing that matters, though. We hurt each other, Yoongi. That doesnât just go away because the sex was good.â
âIt was excellent,â Yoongi offers with a grin he triesâand failsâto suppress.Â
Jin gives him a look but canât hold back the small laugh that slips out. âAsshole.â
âStill your asshole, if you want,â Yoongi says, smile fading slightly as he adds, âI meant it last night, Jin. Everything I said.â
Jin sits up slowly, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. âAnd Iâm not saying I didnât feel something. I did. I do. But itâs been years, Yoongi. We donât even know who we are to each other anymore.â
Yoongi shifts upright, pulling a hoodie that was discarded in the corner over his head. He grabs for his pants, shimmying into them, fastening them under the oversized hoodie that belongs to Jin.
âSoâŚwhat do you want?â
âI want to stop pretending like you showing up didnât shake me,â Jin admits, voice quiet but steady. âBut I also want to be sure that whatever this is-whatever weâre doingâitâs not just nostalgia or loneliness. I need it to be real.â
Yoongi nods slowly, then reaches for Jinâs hand, threading their fingers together. âThen letâs find out. Start over, if we have to. Just donât shut me out.â
Jin watches their hands, thumb grazing across Yoongiâs knuckles. âYou really think we can just pick things up again?â
âNo,â Yoongi says honestly. âBut I think we can begin something new. And maybe this time, we wonât let it fall apart.â
The city feels louder than Jin remembered.Â
Or maybe itâs just the contrast; days of wind in the trees and crackling fires replaced by the bustling sounds of a fairly crowded city, the smell of exhaust in the air, the sounds of horns honking, and the buzz of crowds of people going about their lives.Â
And yet, his home feels too quiet. Too still.
Until Yoongi clears his throat from the doorway of his bedroom.
Jin turns from the kitchen, blinking in surprise. âYouâre still here.â
Yoongi shrugs, awkward in the way only he can be when heâs unsure of his welcome. âYou said I could shower.â
âThat was an hour ago. I had assumed you left; snuck out without saying anything.â
Yoongi shakes his head. âI got distracted by your bookshelf,â Yoongi says, padding barefoot across the floor, hair still damp. âAndâŚby the idea of being here.â
Jin watches him, arms crossed loosely over his chest, âHere, as in my home?â
Yoongi meets his eyes, serious now. âHere, as in...back in your life. Even if itâs only on the edges at first.â
Jin swallows thickly. The weekend had felt like a bubble â intimate and safe, sheltered from the complications that trailed after it. ThisâŚthis is real life. And it feels harder to navigate.
âI donât know what this is yet,â Jin says honestly. âI still have questions. Doubts.â
âI know,â Yoongi replies quietly. âI do too.â
They stand in that uncertainty for a long beat.Â
Then Yoongi adds, voice steady, âBut I meant it, Jin-hyung. I didnât come back for a weekend fling or to relive old memories. I came back because I couldnât shake the feeling that whatever I built without youâŚit wasnât home.â
Jinâs chest aches with that familiar pull. He crosses the room slowly, stopping just short of Yoongi.Â
âIâm not ready to fall back into old patterns,â Jin states bluntly. âBut Iâm tired of pretending I donât want to see what new ones we could make.â
Yoongi nods once, a hesitant smile teasing his lips. âOkay.â
Later, they sit together on the couch, their legs barely brushing, the glow of the TV casting a vivid ambiance across the warm, no longer strained atmosphere surrounding them. Not looking away from the moving picture in front of him, Jin silently turns his hand over until his palm is facing up on the cushion between them.Â
Sensing the movement, Yoongi looks down. His breath catching slightly in the back of his throat, his eyes flick to Jinâs, but the older man isnât even looking at him.
Silently, Yoongi slips his fingers into the empty spaces, inviting him to settle.Â
And itâs quiet. And it's small. And maybe, itâll eventually be home again.
A new BTS Collab event hosted by myself and @anyamaris
Proof. The up and coming hot new music company born from the dreams of seven friends: the wealthy Kim Brothers- Seokjin, Namjoon and Taehyung along with their half-brother Jungkook, their cousin Jimin and two friends from school, Yoongi and Hoseok.
Each of them are very dedicated to their careers, and yet, there is something lacking in all of their personal lives. While they created something together as a team, every one of them will have to face their own trials when it comes to matters of the heart.
*Links will be added as they're posted. Individual posting dates TBD
Title: Loosen up
Author: @colormepurplex2
Pairing: CEO!Namjoon x Personal Assistant!Reader
Genre(s): CEO AU; boss/assistant; Angst; fluff; Smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Namjoon is uptight, strait-laced, and far too serious. He knows it, his business partners and family know it, and, as his personal assistant, you know it better than any of them. So, what do you do when he asksâno, *begs*âfor you to help him loosen up a little?
Summary: Jin's life was structured around routine. He preferred it that way. A rigid businessman in public and private meets his match in a vivacious barista employed at the coffee shop he stops in at every morning. She flips his world on its axis and forces him to question everything he thought he wanted. But will he let her melt the ice around his heart and can love brew where it's least expected?
Title: Looking in
Author: @anyamaris
Pairing: CEO!Taehyung x Childhood Friend!Reader
Genre(s): Unrequited love; angst; smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Returning home after years at University, youâre eager to establish your own business and reconnect with your long time friends. Surprisingly, your childhood crush has developed into something more mature, but thereâs just one catch. Heâs in an arranged marriage with your best friend.
Title: Beautiful Mistakes
Author: @lo1k-diamonds
Pairing: Producer!Yoongi x Songwriter!Reader
Genre(s): Co-workers to lovers; Angst; Smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Yoongi wouldn't be caught dead meddling in people's lives, but once he sees you on that screen, he has to help you somehow. It's an impulse, a mistake. The kind that ruins everything for you. He can't undo it, but he can help you turn your life around, even if he can't tell you why.
Title: Rhythm reborn
Author: @moonleeai
Pairing: Lead Choreographer!Hoseok x Ex-girlfriend!Reader
Genre(s): Second chance AU; angst, smut, fluff
WC: TBD
Summary: You took a chance on love, but Hoseokâs relentless pursuit of success pulls you apart, leaving both of you tangled in loneliness. Yet, beneath the weight of pain and silence, a fragile hope flickersâa chance to rediscover the rhythm that connects the heart, offering a second chance at love.
Title: Promise
Author: @pars-ley
Pairing: Lead Lyricist!Jimin x Family Friend!Reader
Genre(s): Arranged marriage AU; love triangle; mutual pining; angst; fluff; smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Jimin has been a constant in your life ever since you can remember. He's the person you go to in times of need, the one you trust more than anyone and the one you fantasise about spending your life with. If you gave him the chance you know he'd jump at a life with you too. Sounds perfect, right? Just one problemâŚyou're betrothed to his cousin.
Title: Who...
Author: @mrsparkjimin18
Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Older!Reader
Genre(s): Forbidden love/taboo; age gap reader; Smut; Angst
WC: TBD
Summary: You never expected to see him again â not like this. No longer a little boy, but a man. And not just any manâŚthe one you canât seem to ignore. Thereâs a line between your fates. Drawn by time, by age, by everything youâre supposed to be. But this â whatever this is â feels like the kind of choice that changes everything. If you take one step closer, there may be no turning backâŚ
