Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: pretty fluffy chapter, i think, maybe a sprinkling of angst
Author's Note: oh my GOD i am so sorry that this took so long. a literal almost year after i posted chapter 7, i can't believe it. i really didn't intend to take this long of a break but it was incredibly hard to find the motivation and time to write. things have been a little better lately, especially with my life calming down some, so i was able to do this. i think i definitely bit off more than i could chew doing a series for my first ever fic. either way, i'll shut up, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! if you're still here reading it, i truly truly truly cannot appreciate you and your patience enough. thank you.
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Despite getting more sleep last night than you had in the past couple of weeks, you still felt absolutely exhausted when you woke up on Saturday morning. Your hair was knotted and your throat was dry, tasting faintly of the chicken you’d had the previous evening. As you sat up in bed, you knew that it was immediately necessary to brush your teeth as soon as possible. You went through the motions of your morning routine despite it being close to noon, and equipped yourself with some comfortable loungewear in the form of an old pair of shorts and pastel sweatshirt.
You made your way down to the living room area, finding Yoongi sitting on the couch watching a basketball game. Your light footsteps seemed to alert him and he turned to face your form coming down the stairs.
“Good morning,” he smiled, tipping his cup of steaming coffee toward you.
You smiled in response, “Good morning, Yoongi. Are you watching a game?”
Yoongi nodded, eyes trailing after you into the kitchen as you began preparing a cup of tea, “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve watched one live so I figured I’d keep it on since I was free.”
Looking at him from behind the counter in the kitchen, you wondered aloud, “I didn’t know you liked basketball.”
Yoongi laughed lightly, “Yeah, I used to play it all the time back in high school and college. I’ll play a game with some guys every now and then at the gym.”
You nodded along, navigating to the living room with a steeping mug of tea. Usually, you would sit on the accompanying loveseat, but you were feeling rather daring this morning. Maybe the sight of Yoongi in a loose sweatshirt and pajama pants emboldened you, or maybe it was the bleary memory of him caressing your cheek last night. You sat next to him, placing your mug atop a coaster on the coffee table, and pulling your legs up onto the couch.
Yoongi’s breath stuttered but he showed no further reaction, which you took as your sign to get comfortable. “Why don’t you play more often,” you questioned, tucking your feet underneath your thighs.
“After my shoulder injury,” Yoongi responded, moving his shoulder in a circular motion, “It’s hard to play as much.”
“Oh,” you felt bad now for bringing it up, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he shrugged, “It’s still fun to watch.” He nodded towards the television, eyes tracking the players’ movements.
It was rare for you to see Yoongi so entranced in something, to see him so clearly passionate. Saying you had a crush on him feels wrong now that you were realizing how much you didn’t know about him. You weren’t aware of his love for basketball, nor were you knowledgeable on his injury. There was so much to Yoongi that you hadn’t explored yet, but you didn’t want to let that gap in knowledge persist.
“Tell me about it,” you said suddenly, making Yoongi look at you, “The game. I don’t really know anything about basketball, so tell me what’s going on.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow in your direction, “Really?”
“Yes, really,” you laughed, shoving yourself further into the comfortable couch cushions before groaning internally when you realized you had to sit up again to reach your tea.
Yoongi began detailing the basic rules of basketball to you, using the live game on the television as an example. It was almost fascinating to hear him so passionate about a subject, even if it was something that you had no knowledge about. His voice was smooth and deep, reminding you of the whiskey you’d often seen him drink in the evenings.
One Friday night when he was out with his friends, you’d stumbled home from work exhausted and itching for a warming drink. None of the bottles in the bar were sticking out to you until you’d spotted the tapered neck of the fancy, glass whisky bottle that you’d often seen out on the living room coffee table when Yoongi was relaxing. Curiosity overtook you and you had poured yourself a finger, drinking the smoky dark liquid, letting it run down your throat. A small cough had escaped you, the strong alcohol taste taking you by surprise, but it was not nearly as unpleasant as you had anticipated. Sipping on it afterwards, you felt like you were able to understand Yoongi through a different lens somehow, the dark, velvety, and spicy liquor making you feel like you were breathing in Yoongi’s essence.
You were pulled from your memory as Yoongi’s voice continued, outlining the more specific rules of basketball and why a specific player on the court was about to make or break the game. His voice was still low and quiet, but there was more energy behind his words, a lilt to his tone that indicated his excitement. His eyes seemed to shine a bit brighter and there was a barely noticeable curve to the edge of his mouth, betraying his happiness at the topic of conversation.
Feeling rather bold, you sat up once more to place your mug of tea on the coffee table and when you leaned back against the couch, you purposefully positioned yourself to lean against Yoongi’s shoulder. His voice fell silent and he looked over at you, your innocent eyes blinking up at him from where your shoulder leaned against him, patiently waiting for him to continue his explanation. He searched your gaze, mouth pursed, before his hand raised and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. The action made your breath catch, locking eyes with his own, breath shaky.
“Y/N,” his voice husky, “What are you doing?”
You struggled for a response, unsure yourself of the reason behind your unexpected actions, “I just like you.”
Your eyes shut in embarrassment, why was that the explanation you chose to go with?
Though your eyes were clenched shut, now slowly releasing the permanent blink, you heard Yoongi’s soft chuckle, the soft sound of his sweater rustling in movement making you open your eyes fully. Yoongi was still looking at you, with an endearingly soft smile on his face.
Your cheeks warmed at the statement and you lifted yourself from your position of being pressed against him, clearing your throat. The low murmur of commentators from the game was forgotten and the moment became just you and Yoongi drinking each other in. More than the low voices coming from the television, you could only focus on Yoongi’s even breathing, his hooded gaze, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the small part of his lips. His eyes found your gaze once more, holding it wordlessly. You could smell his shampoo faintly, the light scent of coffee also tickling your nose.
Almost imperceptibly, Yoongi moved closer to you, inching across the distance between the two of you on the couch. The black haired man filled all your senses, you felt achingly aware of everything. The scent of his shampoo and coffee filled your nose further, the fiber of the couch against the palm of your hand overstimulated you, the taste of toothpaste and herbal tea mixed on your tongue, the white noise of the now-irrelevant basketball game occupied your ears, and all you could see was Yoongi.
The distance between you closed slowly, your breaths beginning to mingle, and Yoongi invaded all your sensitivities. He drew closer to you, making your breath tremble and fingers tingle. You wanted to reach out to him, watching as his gaze dropped down to your lips. Did he want to kiss you? You wanted to kiss him, that much you were sure of. However, as Yoongi lessened the gap between your bodies, he stopped just short of connecting your lips. You felt the warmth of his breath caressing your skin.
Yoongi looked down at you intensely, but did not move. You wet your dry lips, biting gently on your bottom lip out of habit, and you watched as Yoongi’s gaze caught on the movement. You were growing impatient, Yoongi’s gravity pulling you toward him more strongly by the second. You couldn’t stand it.
You leaned forward, closing the gap between your lips, feeling your own connect with Yoongi’s. He felt softer than you’d expected, but you could still feel the texture of dry skin on his lips. To his credit, Yoongi only startled momentarily, before reacting and taking the lead on your kiss. You felt him push into you, pressing against your lips more aggressively. The feeling of his tongue reaching your lips startled you and you pulled away, breathless.
Yoongi’s eyes gazed down at you with blown out pupils and heavier breaths, his lips were slightly swollen and red. The sight made your chest flush.
“I hope you don’t kiss all of your friends like this,” you said suddenly, cutting the tension and making Yoongi blink and startle out a laugh.
While you had partly made the abrupt joke out of a desire to dissipate the mounting tension, an awkward response you had been known to practice, you also wanted to gently remind Yoongi of the previous agreement you had both concurred. Friends don’t kiss, but they could, and that was the excuse you were going with. Considering you had been the one to push the kiss into existence, you needed to make sure you and Yoongi were still on the same page. Despite his enticing gravitational pull, you still weren’t ready for a relationship with him, and you needed to make that clear.
“I don’t kiss any of my friends,” Yoongi smiled, leaning back. His expression didn’t waver, melting back into a relaxed bliss with flushed cheeks.
“That’s their loss,” you responded, breathing a sigh of relief that he seemed to not take the kiss too seriously. You’d have to be careful going forward though, you couldn’t afford to repeat this incident if you wanted to maintain your ‘just friends’ status.
“Yeah,” Yoongi smirked, raising an eyebrow, “You think so?”
Your cheeks reddened, the accidental compliment had slipped past your lips before you had realized. You supposed it wasn’t the worst thing that Yoongi knew that you thought he was a good kisser, but it didn’t feel great either. Yoongi’s teasing smile faded, shifting into a more relaxed expression once more.
“So, Jeongguk is coming to your office on Tuesday,” he asked, swirling the cup of coffee in his hand, now likely lukewarm.
You nodded, “Yeah, it’s to promote the new game. I’ll probably end up buying him lunch or dinner, whenever he’s off from the shoot.”
Yoongi nodded, staring down into his mug, “If it’s dinner, let me join. I’ll treat you both.”
“You don’t have to,” you frowned, but Yoongi waved his hand, dismissing your concern.
“Okay, I’ll let you know,” you acquiesced, sometimes it was just better to let him have his way. Your gaze slowly shifted back to the television, now playing some commercials, and you could feel your mind drifting away, even though your lips still tingled.
“By the way,” he started, drawing your attention once more, “Next Saturday, keep your evening free.”
You raised your eyebrows questioningly, “I have the art gallery that afternoon with Namjoon.”
“Yes, but afterwards. I would like to do something for our one month anniversary, just something small,” he said, voice slightly higher than normal. His demeanor made you suspicious but you agreed nonetheless.
“Okay, I’ll make sure to come back before dinner after the gallery,” you promised, a bemused smile painting your face. You were slightly nervous about what Yoongi had planned, but you resigned to your fate. How bad could it be?
Your team looked suspiciously well put together today, but the reason was clear: a famous streamer/influencer would be invading your office today, camera in hand. Your team had clearly wanted to look their best for the occasion while still seeming casual, many of them dressed in more well tailored and fashion forward outfits than the leggings, joggers, and sweatshirts they usually sported. You were no exception, having donned a loose blue button up with wide leg trousers to flatter your waist this morning. Scrutinizing your outfit in the mirror before you left the house had done your anxiety no good, as you were still adjusting your tucked in shirt and collar every few seconds.
The members of your team were bustling around their desks, talking excitedly about the upcoming shoot. Many of them were adjusting their own outfits and hair, trying to pull up their most complicated documents to display on their screens, and wondering out loud what Jeongguk would be like in person. You were fairly sure he wouldn’t be that much different to the friendly and outgoing personality you had witnessed in your few encounters since the wedding. Your phone buzzed in your hand, making you check it immediately.
Message from Yoongi (Husband)
The contact name made you smile, recalling the previous day where Yoongi had insisted you change his contact name to something less formal and more familiar. At his persistence, you had relented into changing it from his full name into just his first name, but you had had the brilliant idea of the ‘husband’ addition. You had thought that it was extremely funny, and while Yoongi had initially pouted, he joined in your laughter eventually.
Unlocking your phone, you read the message.
The shoot is starting soon, right? Good luck. You’ll look great on camera.
The final statement brought heat to your cheeks as you sent off a thank you in response. You set your phone down on your desk, smiling at the bubbly and excited atmosphere surrounding your team. Soon, you could hear a bit of commotion down the hallway outside your office section, making your team burst into excited murmurs and pushing up against the glass wall to catch a glimpse.
You heard Jeongguk before you saw him, his cheery and boisterous voice talking to his camera, slowly getting louder as he approached. Then came his silhouette, causing your team to press further against the glass, peeking over each other to glimpse the man of the hour. The sight made you laugh quietly, it looked rather unprofessional, but who were you to ruin their fun?
The man himself finally appeared, bright smile in tow, and an expensive looking video camera in his hand that he was pointing all around the office. Your team immediately starting waving excitedly, catching Jeongguk’s attention. There were two employees behind him that you vaguely recognized as being part of the marketing team, flanking either side of him, and directing him gently toward your office.
Jeongguk happily waved back, turning the camera to himself to speak for a couple sentences before setting it back on your team. Before he entered, though, one employee stopped him, instructing him to wait, while the other entered your office, facing your team against the glass.
“Hello, I am one of the marketing employees accompanying Jeon Jeongguk, please be seated.”
Your team obediently took their seats, but you remained standing at your desk.
“During the shoot today, we ask that you continue working as normal. Jeongguk may film you and your screen, so please make sure to not have any sensitive or uncleared documents pulled up. We may pull you aside for a short interview in the break room. If you are chosen for an interview, we will give further instructions then. Please feel free to work as usual and interact with Mr. Jeon casually,” the employee stated. They looked tired, you noted.
Your team sounded off in confirmation that they’d understood and reduced their excited murmurs to whispers and the marketing employee gestured for you to follow her. You trailed after her into the hallway, finally making eye contact with Jeongguk, whose eyes and smile widened when he saw you.
“Team leader Seo, we’ll have you do a short introduction for the team with Mr. Jeon before we enter your office. We’ll do that here where we can have the office in the background,” the other employee stated, to which you nodded in understanding.
“Hi, noona,” Jeongguk whispered excitedly as the two employees positioned you both to their liking, “How’s your morning?”
“Good,” you smiled, “Exciting.”
Jeongguk laughed at that, shoulders shaking, “Sounds about right. I’ll just ask you to introduce the team and what you guys did for the game. I won’t mention hyung or that we know each other.”
You nodded, a bit relieved. You didn’t want Jeongguk’s expansive audience to learn of your friendship with the golden boy, or the man that linked you both. You had seen his fans and you wanted no part of their gossip boards.
The rest of the shooting was fairly uneventful, with Jeongguk filming your office space and talking to a few team members. He didn’t interact with you much, surprisingly, but it was a relief more than anything. Jeongguk kept true to his word and didn’t let on that he knew you, instead focusing his attention on a blushing Song Ha and asking many questions about the development process. It was entertaining, at least, to watch him wander around your office and ask whatever question came to mind.
Soon after, Jeongguk announced that he believed he had gotten enough footage and that they should move on to the next location. Your team members jumped to their feet to wish him goodbye, which he returned with a wide smile. You followed him and the marketing employees out the door, wishing him good luck with the rest of his shoot.
“Dinner, noona,” he whispered before walking away, “I’ll text you.”
You nodded, seeing him stroll leisurely down the hallway, filming the mundane office surrounding him. As you returned to your desk, your team was abuzz with excitement after the shoot. Their chatting became white noise to you as you began your work once more. Though you would ideally want your team to resume work as well, you knew that they would need some time to recover from the morning’s activities. You scrolled through your emails, unable to push off the nagging feeling that you had forgotten something. The itching insistence forced you to recall the day’s events, what could you have forgotten?
Retracing your steps in the past few days, you recalled your conversation with Yoongi, following your fleeting kiss. He had said to let him know if you were getting dinner with Jeongguk, so you decided to do just that. Reliving that morning made your cheeks heat and lips tingle, you could still remember the plush of his lips so clearly.
Jeongguk wants to get dinner tonight, do you still want to join us?
A twinge of embarrassment flowed through you, you still weren’t sure how to text him. Everything you said felt too formal or forced, but you weren’t sure how casual a tone you should take this early on. Surprisingly, his reply came almost instantly.
Yeah. I’ll pick you up after work.
A sigh escaped your lips. He was quite blunt through text, another factor in your hesitance to lower formality, but at least you were getting a free dinner tonight.
“Wow, hyung,” Jeongguk said, admiring the sizzling meat on the pan in the middle of the table, “Did I do you some huge favor I don’t know about?”
“No, you brat,” Yoongi responded, flicking his forehead, “Can’t I just treat you?”
The argument, if you could call it that, made you laugh in your seat beside Jeongguk. It was clear the two men were close and seeing Yoongi like this felt like a treat on its own.
“I think you just want to impress noona,” Jeongguk replied, wrapping his arms around you and digging his chin into your neck, “Too bad she likes me more.” He finished his display of maturity with a classy tongue stuck out in Yoongi’s direction.
You could feel the large man shake with your shoulders as you laughed, amused at Yoongi’s scowl from across the table.
“Let’s drink, noona,” Jeongguk proclaimed, righting himself and waving over a waiter, “And order more beef since hyung is paying.”
You poured two soju shots, clinking glasses with Jeongguk and giggling at Yoongi’s unamused expression. Soon though, a smile broke out on his face, fondness taking over his expression. The shift made you pause in your ministrations of making a soju bomb, taking in the peaceful, soft smile lining his lips. It was rare for you to see Yoongi so truly relaxed, only recalling fleeting moments and glimpses of it.
His voice calling your name startled you from your distracted trance, hand still poised to pour soju.
“Are you okay? Do you need to sober up?”
You turned to glance at Jeongguk beside you who was happily devouring the freshly cooked beef and returned your gaze to Yoongi, “I’m okay.”
Yoongi nodded satisfied before slapping Jeongguk’s hand away from the beef, taking it with tongs and placing it on your plate.
“Hyung, no fair! You’re playing favorites,” Jeongguk whined, “I’m a growing boy!”
“How long have you been growing? Twenty-four years?”
As amusing as their tiff was, you were rethinking your previous answer to Yoongi, feeling your cheeks warm and head become lighter. The sight of delicious looking beef placed on your plate with care was sending your head into a spiral and you understood that it was time to slow down.
When you tuned back into the conversation, Yoongi and Jeongguk were discussing something about their fathers, bemoaning a rude comment made by one of them, you couldn’t tell who at this point.
“Yoongi,” you called softly, immediately grabbing his attention, “Could you please pour me some water?”
He nodded, promptly filling your cup and handing the refreshingly cold glass to you. You gulped gratefully, feeling some semblance of clarity return to your foggy mind before finishing the meat on your plate.
“Jeonggukie, it’s time to go home, let me call you a cab,” Yoongi’s firm voice stated, making you and Jeongguk pout. You hadn’t meant to cut the evening short.
“But hyung,” Jeongguk started before being silenced by Yoongi’s small frown.
“It’s Tuesday, Kook, and you’re tipsy. You can eat the rest of the meat while I settle the bill,” he said, placating Jeongguk’s complaints, and topping off your water before leaving the table to pay.
“You know, noona,” Jeongguk started, mouth half full of food that slurred his words, “I’m glad hyung has you. You’re good for each other.”
You let an easygoing smile slide onto your lips, leaning your head against your hand propped up by the table, “Thanks, Kook.”
A bright smile broke out across Jeongguk’s face, “You’re so pretty, noona!”
A laugh escaped you and Jeongguk was promptly hit lightly upside the head by Yoongi returning, “That’s my wife, you degenerate playboy.”
While you joined in their laughter, your gaze caught Yoongi’s and in the bleary lights and your blurred vision, he looked like an angel. The lights of the restaurant framed his silhouette, making the back of his black hair shine, reflecting like a halo. His hand was outstretched to you, reaching over an exiting Jeongguk, and you took it gratefully, the slightly rough sensation of his skin grounding you.
“Ready to go,” he asked, lifting you from the seat.
You nodded, still silent in the face of his angelic appearance.
Yoongi slowly but gently guided you to the car, getting you situated in the front seat before attending to Jeongguk who was leaning against a pole waiting for a taxi to come by. As you sat in the front seat, on the tail end of sobering up, you clenched and unfurled your hand, feeling empty without the warmth of Yoongi.
Things had developed so quickly between the two of you and you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t scare you, but part of you, maybe an overwhelming part, was excited. It felt like your relationship was moving so fast, the parameters were getting muddied and your heart pounded in your chest at the headspinning thoughts. The slow, calming breaths you forced yourself to take were doing less than great at slowing your rapid heart beat and racing mind. Counting backwards in your head and focusing on the sensation of the cold door handle and the leather seat beneath you was grounding.
The sound of the driver side door opening startled you, a small squeak escaping your mouth as you turned your head to look at Yoongi entering the car.
“You doing okay,” he asked, eyes glancing around your face.
You only nodded, unable to find any words while you watched his soft, black hair fall against his forehead.
Yoongi only gave you a small smile before glancing down. Your own eyes travelled down with his, landing on your empty lap. You heard Yoongi shuffle forward, looking up to find his face inches from yours as he leaned forward out of his seat.
Your breath hitched as you held eye contact with him, the white noise in your brain silencing at the sight of his dark eyes boring into your own. All you could hear was his soft breaths, watching as his eyes didn’t move from your own. His eyelashes seemed so much longer than before, you found yourself almost tracing them with your gaze. Amid the silence, you watched as his own stare dropped down to your lips and you braced yourself, anticipating feeling his lips against your own.
When he finally moved, however, he leaned ever so slightly forward, reaching his arm past your shoulder to grab the seatbelt before sitting back and clicking it into place and he looked once more toward the front of the car. You exhaled the breath you were holding, feeling a pout form on your lips, perhaps still a little buzzed. Your brows furrowed as you tried to determine if you read the situation incorrectly, and worse, why you were so disappointed. Of course you would want to kiss him, but you were still the one to set the boundary of being friends. It wouldn’t be right of you to expect him to kiss you and feel upset when he didn’t. How hypocritical.
Lost in your own thoughts, you barely registered Yoongi’s own hesitation in starting the car, instead looking lost in his own thoughts. He glanced back at your face, your lips twisted into a pout and eyes cast downward, before cursing and unbuckling his own seatbelt to lunge toward you.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Yoongi’s hands on your cheeks, bringing up your head to face him directly before he whispered, “Can I please kiss you?”
Yoongi brought your lips together gently, pressing his against yours in a sweet embrace. He felt warm and soft, making your eyes close automatically as you melted into the kiss. Your hands found his jacket sleeves, gripping on to the fabric with clenched fists as your mouths moved in tandem.
You couldn’t think about anything else, your mind a jumbled mess of senses and Yoongi, feeling him overtake every inch of your thoughts.
It certainly wasn’t an eruption of fireworks or sparks like you had read in those trashy romance novels you had stashed away at the back of your closet, but it felt right. It couldn’t last forever, though, as Yoongi pulled away with heavy breaths, leaning back into his seat.
“You keep messing me up,” you breathed, the words escaping you before you could think.
Yoongi looked at you, confused, waiting for you to elaborate.
While you regretted the initial sentence, you figured you didn’t have much to lose now, and it’s not like you could just ask him to ignore what you were saying. Instead, you decided to continue, facing forward in your seat to avoid his piercing gaze.
“I wanted to be friends, I wanted to go slow. I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but you keep messing me up,” you huffed out, wringing your fingers together in your lap, “I always want to kiss you. You’re too nice now, I don’t know how to do this. You-”
You paused, turning your head toward him, locking eyes, “You’re giving me so much hope, and I’m not used to it. I don’t want to rush us. But I want you.”
Yoongi breathed out audibly at your words, his own hands gripping the steering wheel a little bit tighter. He seemed to be formulating what exactly to say in response, his brows furrowing and mouth pursing, before he finally settled on it.
“I think that we should talk about this when you’re sober,” he stated, though he looked pained while saying it, “I want you to remember this conversation and be completely present.”
You nodded slowly, you supposed that made sense. While the alcohol had worn off for the most part, it still blurred the edges of your mind, your consonants slurred together, and your body swayed more than you wanted it to. Maybe it was only because of the alcohol that you started this conversation in the first place, but you understood that it had to be finished fully sober.
“Okay, let’s go home,” you decided, facing forward once more. Yoongi hummed in response before shifting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking space. The ride was silent for a bit, a comfortable silence, but you still felt on edge, restless, like you needed to say something but you didn’t know what.
“Thanks, Yoongi,” you said softly over the jazz playing in the car, hoping that’s what you needed to quell your mind.
Yoongi didn’t say anything in response, but his right hand left the steering wheel to settle lightly on your thigh and give it a gentle squeeze.
That conversation didn’t come to fruition, unfortunately, with work picking up drastically for both you and Yoongi. The two of you would often stumble through the door within minutes of each other late at night, only being able to muster an empathetic glance and a tired smile before you both dragged yourselves to bed.
The ache in your body grew and persisted, making the days feel even longer leading up to the weekend. Work was frantic and busy with your release coming up in only a matter of days, with last minute bugs, settling long lasting disputes, and being pulled into marketing meetings left and right.
While your team’s work was mostly done since production was on the tail end, your job as a manager only ramped up with having to provide your input into every other aspect of the game’s release. Your schedule was full, leaving you no time for your daily tasks or check-ins with your own team, but it was still a chaos you thrived in.
You had fought to get to this point, having to go against your family’s wishes, take your parents’ friends’ judgemental stares and disapproving tones, throwing yourself into coding and strategy planning, desperately trying to convince your parents to set you free from their expectations, all while juggling their clear disappointment and the comparison to your brother.
The journey did make you feel like you couldn’t complain, but that didn’t mean the work wasn’t hard, only that you loved it anyway. Despite that, you still collapsed into your bed in relief on Friday night, knowing you could stave off work for the next two days and properly relax. You were grateful you didn’t have to complete chores around the house with Mrs. Lim reliably keeping everything clean and your fridge stocked with snacks and meals you could have after you got back.
As you tangled yourself in your comforter, the plush mattress and enveloping fabric feeling almost addicting, you reminded yourself that you still had a busy schedule the next day. The art gallery started in the early afternoon and Namjoon was picking you up, which gave you some wiggle room with getting dressed, for lunch beforehand. You weren’t sure how long you both were going to spend at the gallery but you figured that you’d have to join Yoongi pretty much right after Namjoon dropped you off.
Yoongi hadn’t given any indication of what the evening was to bring, not that the two of you had interacted much this week for him to do so. It made you nervous, though, not knowing what to expect. Your relationship with Yoongi was definitely evolving, past the initial agreement you both came to, but you weren’t sure what it was. Any label escaped you, much like your sense of reason with the number of times you’ve kissed him since declaring your unreadiness for a relationship.
Things were getting messy and complicated, seemingly more so than they were previously, which you hadn’t thought possible.
Your eyes felt heavy with sleep and you were reminded of the late hour, but you were pleased as you planned to sleep in the next morning. Despite a busy day, you still had a relatively quiet morning ahead of you. You shifted in bed, turning onto your side and melting into the soft duvet, and your eyes closed.
The next morning, you woke up from the sun shining on your face rather than your alarm and it felt liberating. Your clock showed a startling ten in the morning, almost jolting your body into action before you remembered that you weren’t actually late for anything. You let yourself get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower to fully relax and cleanse yourself of the horrible workweek. You hadn’t picked an outfit yet for the gallery, so you stood, stumped, in your closet after your shower, scrutinizing your clothes hanging in front of you.
You wanted something for the gallery and for whatever Yoongi was planning afterwards, but how could you plan your outfit when you didn’t know what he was up to? Eventually, you shook your head, settling on a plain outfit of wide leg trousers, a black longsleeve and throwing your trenchcoat on top. Versatile enough. The last touch was your ring, which you found was feeling more and more comfortable on your finger every day.
Having forgone breakfast with your late rise, your stomach had startled to rumble but you staved off any desire to snack since Namjoon would be picking you up soon for lunch. Instead, you opted for tea in the kitchen to fill you slightly and wake up the last bits of your body.
Yoongi made a surprise appearance just as you were throwing on your coat since Namjoon had let you know he was close, shuffling towards the top of the staircase with messy hair and bleary eyes. He waved lazily, telling you to have fun through yawns, and it brought a fond smile to your face. It was clear he was just as exhausted as you, clad in a rumpled t-shirt and pajama pants and his voice raspy and tired. You loved every second of it.
True to his word, Namjoon arrived soon after his text, and you rode the elevator down to the lobby to meet him. As you got into the car, Namjoon smiled at you, “You look pretty.”
“Oh,” you said, caught off guard, “Thank you. So do you.”
Namjoon laughed, full bellied and deeply dimpled, “I think you’re the only one who tells me that.”
“I’ll keep going until it becomes common practice,” you wink at him. Namjoon only chuckles, making sure you're belted in before he begins driving towards the cafe he chose for lunch.
You make idle chatter on your way there, catching up on life lately, Namjoon’s plants, your games, the books you’re both trying to read but inevitably never have time for. Talking with Namjoon is always pleasant, easy, and comfortable, and you feel yourself relaxing into the seat and finding the drive to have gone by far too quickly by the time you reach the cafe.
The both of you are seated quickly, and with Namjoon already having a regular order and you having looked up the menu beforehand, your orders are taken quickly and you’re soon left to your own devices. Namjoon keeps the conversation flowing with discussion about the artist whose gallery you’re about to see and you’re happy to engage, but your mind slowly pulls away to what Yoongi could possibly be planning for when you return.
Namjoon evidently notices your distraction, softly calling your name after you’d zoned out.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Something on your mind,” he asks not unkindly, taking a sip of his water.
“Oh,” you begin, not entirely sure how to answer, “Not really. I don’t know. Yoongi’s planning something tonight for our one month anniversary, but he hasn’t told me anything yet. So, I guess I’m just nervous.”
Namjoon nods in understanding, an emotion you can’t identify crossing over his face, “I see, that would be a bit anxiety inducing. But knowing Yoongi hyung, it can’t be anything too bad.”
You smile a bit at that, fiddling with the napkin in front of you, “You’re probably right. Sorry I was so distracted.”
“Not at all,” Namjoon shakes his head, “I’m glad to hear you’ve been getting along better. Especially after the gala.”
It almost takes a moment to realize what he’s talking about. It feels so long ago, that Yoongi almost seems like a different person. The animosity between you two was so far from the tension that exists now.
“Yeah, thank you, by the way. For being there for me. You were really sweet,” you smile gratefully at him, recalling the way he’d sat with you the whole night.
“It’s not exactly like I minded being with a pretty lady in a pretty dress and having great conversation all night,” he chuckles.
You laugh along with him, but the way he said it makes you pause internally. Something in his tone you couldn’t place, but it nagged at you.
Soon your food arrived and the conversation turned to that instead, both of you praising the lovely flavors and sharing bits of your food with each other. Namjoon seemed insistent on making sure you had more than your fill, excitedly filling your plate with the best elements of his own dish.
Thankfully, the both of you could walk to the gallery location, a much needed activity after gorging yourselves at lunch. On the way, Namjoon regaled you with the tales of his latest favorite film, some foreign film entirely in French, which sounded intimidating, but you listened intently anyway.
Quickly, the two of you reach the gala house and enter smoothly, with there being no line. Much like before, you both moved between each piece, offering each other your thoughts and discussing where you differed. At some point through the gallery, Namjoon’s gaze begins to feel heavy and his steps slow a bit, making you turn back to him at one point.
He looked over at you, something sad in his eyes, but he smiled anyway, “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Are you not having fun? We could leave,” you frowned, concerned over his sudden change in behavior.
“No, no,” he reassured you, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s really nice doing this with you.”
You tilt your head, an unsure smile crossing your face, “Okay, but we can leave whenever.”
He only nods, ushering you forward, further into the gallery.
The two of you finish walking through the gallery and begin your trek back to the car, discussing your favorite pieces along the way. Namjoon seems a bit better now, though the troubled cloud overtop of him doesn’t seem to leave. It made you nervous, not knowing why he’s upset, prompting you to ask after he’s started driving and there’s a lull in conversation.
“Namjoon,” you begin, drawing his attention from the road, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He smiled, but it didn’t look happy, “Yeah, it’s just my own head, you know?”
You frown, understanding what he means, “Tell me. I can listen, if you want me to.”
He gently braked for a red light, turning to look at you, “Yoongi hyung is really lucky to have you.”
Your brows furrowed, confused why he brought up Yoongi.
“I wish things were different. But I know you’re happy with him. And I want that for you. But it’s difficult, you know, also wanting you.”
“Wanting me,” you paused, trying to put the pieces together before realization dawns on you, “Namjoon, do you-”
“It’s not relevant,” he stated steadfastly, turning his attention back to the road as the light turns green, “Things just aren’t lined up that way. I never planned to say anything.”
Your heart ached for the hurt in his voice, the accepting yet sorrowful resignation feeling awfully familiar.
He hesitated before speaking again, “I didn’t want to tell you. You just make me a lot more honest than I’d like, I guess.” He chuckled humourlessly.
“Namjoon,” you trailed off, unsure what to say, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Fuck, this is so uncool of me,” he almost laughed, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this and on your one month anniversary no less. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Don’t be,” you rushed to say, “I get it. Which I know sounds awful coming from me, but I do. Thank you for telling me.”
Namjoon only gave you a sad half smile before pulling up to the curb of your apartment, the sun now almost setting.
“I’m sorry anyway. You don’t deserve to have this on your mind. Please, don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you expecting a response. I wasn’t going to tell you at all,” he said, putting the car into park and facing you.
“I really am glad you did. I think it’s needed…to move on,” you cringed inwardly at the statement.
“You’re right,” he sighed, “Anyway, please forget this happened. I still want to hang out like normal, and I won’t be weird, I promise.”
“But you’re normally weird,” you teased, unable to resist, and your insides warmed at the smile it brought to Namjoon’s face.
“You wound me, and after I gave you a ride too. Now, get out of my car,” he laughed.
Even though Namjoon had made it clear he hadn’t intended to burden you, your thoughts were still wholly occupied with his semi confession on the elevator ride up. Did you handle that correctly? You couldn’t even think of another time anyone had said so outrightly and unexpectedly that they had feelings for you. You weren’t sure what the proper protocol was in that situation. Every since instance of dating or intimacy was when you’d immediately been in a romantic context with someone. Never had you had a friend confess to you, much less in as complex a situation as you currently were.
Your mind was racing even as you exited the elevator, overthinking every moment you’d had with Namjoon, trying to figure out if you’d accidentally lead him on somehow, if you’d given him an indication unintentionally, if you were the bad guy. As you unlocked the door to the apartment, still deep in your thoughts, a popper going off startled you greatly.
You almost dropped your purse at Yoongi’s voice and the sharp noise of the popper, but you regained your balance just in time. The moment allowed you to take in the sight in front of you: a delicious looking dinner spread on the table, and a bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase, and Yoongi clad in a comfortable crewneck holding the popper in the middle of it all. His hair was unstyled, falling in thick bangs across his forehead, and his eyes were crinkled with his wide and gummy smile, but you could see it slowly fall at your silence.
“Do you,” he asked apprehensively, “Do you not like it?”
“No,” you rushed to answer, “I do, I was just surprised. Thank you, Yoongi, this is so sweet.”
His smile returned in full force, his hands setting the popper down on the table before wiping his palms on his crewneck, “Great, great, good. Why don’t you get changed into something more comfortable? I figured we could do something more casual tonight.”
You laughed, “Is a three course meal casual?”
“It felt casual when I was making it,” Yoongi supplied, adjusting the plate setting.
The statement made you look up in shock as you were removing your shoes, “You made all this?”
“Wow,” you breathed, walking over to him, “It looks amazing. Thank you.”
He smiled once more at you, but it was more subdued, almost like he was relieved, and nodded at you to let you go change.
You quickly undressed and slipped on a crewneck and leggings of your own, feeling cozy and comfortable. After a bit of deliberation, you decided to remove your makeup, figuring it seemed casual enough tonight and Yoongi had seen you barefaced already. You rushed through your skincare, feeling anxious to get back to Yoongi downstairs.
Soon, you rejoined him, now sitting at the table. You took the seat across from him, surveying the dinner spread eagerly, “Everything looks so tasty.”
“Eat as much as you want,” Yoongi said, looking slightly bashful, “Oh, I have wine too.”
You held out your glass as Yoongi poured the wine, “Something different from the usual whiskey, huh?”
Yoongi smiled at you, which you’d been seeing a lot lately, “I wanted tonight to be different, special.”
Once again, Yoongi leaves you speechless. He clinks his glass against yours, both of you taking a sip and humming appreciatively, before digging into the food before you.
The food was delicious. It wasn’t mindblowing or heart stopping, but there was a cozy, homemade, lovingly spiced flavor to each dish. It made you want to go back for more and more. You told Yoongi as much, enjoying the way the tips of his ears went red and how the flush traveled down his neck.
The two of you didn’t speak much during dinner, too engrossed in the hearty food. As you both slowed down, warming soon dubu filling your belly, Yoongi asked you about the gallery. You described the artist to him and recounted your favorite pieces, all while Yoongi listened intently. His enraptured gaze on you made you feel slightly embarrassed, feeling your cheeks and chest warm the longer you talked.
You eventually trailed off, gathering the plates and beginning to pack away the food, despite Yoongi’s insistence that he could do it. Instead, you sent him to the couch to relax, citing his previous effort as reason enough for him to sit back down and let you take over. He acquiesced reluctantly, making himself comfortable on the couch while he watched you bustle around in the kitchen.
Soon after, you joined him on the couch, refilling both of your glasses of wine. You sat close to him, your legs pressed together, even though the couch was wide. You felt more and more comfortable being closer to him lately.
“Y/N,” Yoongi started, sounding a little nervous, making you sit up, “I wanted to talk to about something.”
“What is it? Is everything okay,” you asked, concerned.
Yoongi nodded, “Yeah, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to bring it up. I feel like we’ve been getting a lot closer.”
You nodded, following along. You and Yoongi had certainly become closer in the last couple weeks, having kissed multiple times. But, where was he going with this?
“I know you said we should be friends for now,” Yoongi began, fingering the stem of his wine glass.
Your heart beat quickened.
“But I feel like we’ve been progressing past that. I don’t want to rush you, I really don’t, and I know I still need to prove myself after how I treated you. I guess I’m just confused on where we stand, I want to clear the air.”
Well, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, making you pause and think to formulate a response. Yoongi had a point, the lines were blurring more and more between you, and you weren’t helping the situation by initiating intimacy either. Yoongi’s words struck a chord with you though, especially those about making up for his past discretions. If you were thinking honestly, the way Yoongi used to treat you didn’t really cross your mind that much anymore. It felt so far away, so long ago, even though it’d only been a month. Could you really still hold him accountable for that if you’d truly moved on?
“Yoongi,” you called his attention, his head turned to look at you and he was biting his lip, “Would you like to go on a date with me after my release?”
“What,” he almost laughed, looking confused, “A date?”
You nodded, “Yeah, do you want to?”
“Of course, I do,” he jumped to answer, “But are you ready for that? Are we ready for that?”
“Frankly, I don’t hold the past against you anymore. You’ve treated me quite well the past couple weeks, and I don’t want to hold myself back anymore. I want to try a real relationship with you, Yoongi. I think we should still take it slow, go on dates and get to know each other properly, just like you suggested. I just want it to start now. I’m ready,” you state with finality, “If you are.”
Yoongi’s face broke out into a grin, “I am.”
You returned his smile, clinking your glasses once more.
“Cheers then,” you said before taking a sip, “To us.”
Yoongi echoed your sentiment, taking a sip of his own glass, and smiling down at it.
“Thank you, Y/N,” Yoongi said softly, “For giving me another chance. I can’t say I really deserved it.”
You laughed, “I don’t know if you did either, but that doesn’t matter. I gave you one and you used it well. I look forward to our date, Yoongi.”
Yoongi’s hands were shaking, which was not ideal considering the fact that he was holding a knife. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his fraying nerves from becoming undone, this was important. He had to get this done.
He tried to think back to Mrs. Lim’s words from earlier that week, go slow and steady, follow my instructions, and cook with love. Yoongi thinks that the last part was only to tease him, but he decided to follow it anyway. When he had practiced in Mrs. Lim’s house during the week, things hadn’t turned out perfectly, but that wasn’t an option today. He wanted to make a perfect meal, a perfect evening for you.
As he went through the rest of the steps of the recipe Mrs. Lim carefully noted down for him, his mind wandered back to Tuesday evening only a few days back. Your dizzy and unfocused eyes trying to find his own gaze across the car, your flushed cheeks, and the plush of your lips. He remembered sitting back after locking your seatbelt, seeing the way you had stared down at his lips, the desire in your eyes, and coming to terms with the fact that he had as much, if not more desire for you.
Now plating his dishes, he wondered how your gallery date was going with Namjoon. It made him nervous, knowing that you were with Namjoon doing something you both loved. The two of you clicked so well and it would be a lie to say that Yoongi wasn’t jealous of how much you both had in common. It made him feel left out, undeserving of being by your side, and envious of Namjoon getting to make you smile or engage with you on topics you were passionate about.
Yoongi would just have to learn about everything you liked, he would have to make sure he made you smile twice as much as Namjoon, he would have to be someone who deserved to be by your side.
He sighed, adjusting the plate setting once again, it would do him no good to be jealous of Namjoon. What right did he have? You two were technically just friends at the moment. The thought made his heart pick up, it was a topic he had wanted to discuss tonight. He felt like he was moving too fast, pushing your boundaries, and he wanted to make things clear. He only hoped that you wouldn’t be frustrated with him, think that he was claiming more than he had a right to with you.
A couple of kisses were nothing if you wanted to remain platonic, no matter how much Yoongi wanted to take things further, which is why Yoongi had to bring it up tonight.
Yoongi tried not to acknowledge the small, selfish part of him that hoped you’d want to progress to the next stage of your relationship, it wasn’t relevant, he told himself. It didn’t matter how much of a lie that felt like, Yoongi just had to believe it.
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