Faint and growing fainter, the energetic strains of Fantastic Baby fade dimly from his alcohol-dulled senses, and as he clutches tightly at the warm hand in his own and stumbles over the sand, Yoongi finds that he doesn't much care. Under his bare feet the cold ground shifts and slides and, seven or so cans of beer into the night, he's not really sure if the fault lies with the earth, himself, or the lanky man dragging him enthusiastically along the shore. In a different circumstance he might have protested the fast pace, but the beer is sloshing through Yoongi's veins, blanketing all of his sharp impulses in a benign and comfortable hum. To their left, the constant wash of the ocean lapping at the sand is steadily consuming the noise of the party they're leaving behind, and blearily Yoongi thinks it's a good thing the moon is so bright tonight. Otherwise, he's almost positive Hoseok would have already managed to lead them straight into the water.
Unaware of – or at least, impervious to – his skeptical thoughts, Hobi hums an offkey rendition of the BigBang hit, tugging Yoongi along. Frankly, as he almost falls on his face for the umpteenth time, Yoongi can’t help but wonder how Hoseok managed to pry him from the comfy corner of the couch that he'd claimed as his own during the party. Content to watch everything going on from his isolated perch, he'd resisted all previous attempts by his friends to get him up. He vaguely recalls their conversation, the words that led to him unfolding reluctantly and following his friend outside, but somehow it doesn't seem like any of them should have been persuasive enough to get him moving. Except -
Except the night is warm, balmy, sighing softly with the lazy contentment of summer, and he finds that he doesn't miss the younger boys doing body shots off each other, or Namjoon and Jin singing karaoke completely out of tune. Not much anyways.
It's almost quiet now, as close to quiet as it ever gets with Hobi, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to complain, out of habit far more than conviction. "Yah, you said we were going for a short walk, not a hike to Jeju Island."
Completely unaffected, Hoseok slows his quick stride, glancing back and beaming at Yoongi in a way that makes the alcohol in his arteries fizz. "Jeju Island?" he asks playfully. "Did hyung want to go for a swim tonight?" He takes a few deliberate steps towards the water, and it actually takes Yoongi that long to realize what a horrible idea it is.
Hurriedly he digs in his heels, not really sure if his friend has drank enough to actually consider it. The alarm doesn't do anything to help him fight off the wide smile pulling up his lips, though. "Idiot," Yoongi laughs, and can't stop fondness from saturating his voice. "Maybe some other time."
"Mmkay," Hobi accedes easily, and they start walking again, leaving Yoongi's accusation unanswered. They're still holding hands but there's no one around – of course not, it's like one in the morning – and it's not really uncomfortable so he can't bring himself to protest. He kind of wants to ask what the hell they're doing, but it's also nice to just walk next to Hoseok, hands swinging loosely between each other, so he decides not to. Hobi's excited chatter washes over him in much the same way as the waves push against the sand, smoothing all the sharp edges, and he realizes faintly that he's still smiling. If anyone had asked, he'd blame it on the intoxication.
He'd have a totally straight face while he lied, too.
A steep dune rises hazily from the darkness, and the other male doesn't slow down as they reach it. "Almost there!" Hoseok declares, and now they have to break apart. Caught up in the rich thrum of energy he always feels when around his friend, Yoongi doesn't even think to question why they're climbing up the shifting tower of sand; he just follows the admittedly more agile male as they begin to straggle upwards, sometimes having to use their hands for balance.
At one point in time, after at least a minute or so of climbing, when he's almost lost track of Hoseok in his intense concentration, the treacherous footing proves too much and abruptly Yoongi finds himself floundering, flailing, sand trickling through his fingers as he scrabbles for a purchase that just won't come. There's a moment of horrible, breath tearing vertigo (possibly alcohol induced) during which he's absolutely certain he's about to teeter off the mound, but then Hoseok is there. His hands dart from above and to the side, one to grab at the collar of Yoongi's shirt, the other latching onto his wrist, and suddenly they're collapsing against each other, against the sand – but they're not falling. They're stable, with spinning heads set atop remarkably steady bodies. And Hobi is laughing, almost howling, barely able to get his words out. "Watch your step!"
And damned if Yoongi isn't laughing too, chuckling until he can't breathe – laughing, that is, until sand gets in his mouth and he has to stop or risk choking to death. Still grinning broadly at each other, giggling in snorting bursts, they haul each other up the rest of the way with only a modicum of struggling before collapsing in a heap at the top of the dune. Gulping in air, his sides aching, breathless more from amusement than from the climb, Yoongi lies flat on his back, staring up at a sky that's blanketed with stars almost outshone by the bright moon. Beside him Hoseok is giggling, also looking upwards, and it's a while before either of them can find their breath.
Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, Hobi momentarily winces as the brilliant light blinds both of them, leaving white-hot streaks of colour across their vision. After a moment of dramatic cringing, he peers at the screen again, lets out a relieved sigh. "Ah, we're just in time. I thought we might have to wait, or maybe that we'd miss it."
"'It'?" Yoongi echoes, his voice coming slow and dreamy. The alcohol is definitely starting to push him down the slope to drowsiness, or maybe this is just too strange of an experience to absorb, but when Hobi replies he feels no surprise, just a sudden flicker of interest.
"It, yeah, yeah. The fireworks!"
"Fireworks?" Another repetition, but this time the small man wriggles until he's on his side, facing Hoseok with a raised brow. "What fireworks?"
Eyes fixed upwards, unaware of the close observation he's suddenly under, Hobi nods energetically. "There's a monthly festival that happens at that closed off part of the beach – we saw it yesterday when we were touring around – and it has fireworks. I heard some people talking about it before. And I asked some of the locals and they said this was a good place to watch them and not a lot of people came because everyone's seen 'em all before, right? And Jin-hyung said you've never seen them before and -"
His words are obliterated by a sudden whistling shriek that blooms into a boom so deep it's more of a concussion that reverberates his bones than an actual noise, and beside him Hobi jerks in automatic fear. Above their heads a flower unfolds, or blossoms, or just whirls into being, a red and green flower so bright Yoongi finds himself once again struggling to breathe against the pressure on his chest. Hobi's right – he's never seen fireworks before. And suddenly, painfully, wonderfully, he knows exactly what he's been missing, and a world with fireworks is a world without room for his anxiety or skepticism. As another cannon-shot heralds the arrival of more fantastical colours, these in a sparkling, winding ribbon of blue and purple, Yoongi blindly reaches out, fingers fumbling along the warmth of Hobi's body until he finds the other's hand.
Hobi clings to him like he's an anchor and the fireworks are a black hole, threatening to pull them both in, and every time another boom echoes across the dusky sky Yoongi can feel a slight flinch wrack the other man's figure. Part of him wants to look over, to say something reassuring, but his eyes are fixed in unblinking amazement at the light show dancing over them, like their own personal parade, and he can't rip his gaze away. So Yoongi settles with giving Hobi's hand a gentle squeeze every time a new shower of sparks bleeds vivid colour into the night, and he shifts so that they're closer, sharing the warmth that the cold sand beneath them is trying to leech away, their thin clothes doing little to protect them.
He wishes – as fervently as he's wished for anything – that the fireworks will last forever, but like most of his wishes, that one lingers just long enough to leave the tart taste of hope in his mouth before it dies, trickling away on the tail end of the last of the fireworks. As the soft murmur of the ocean once again overtakes them, filling up the ringing silence left by the thunderous explosions, Yoongi stirs, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He feels – abruptly, jarringly – sober, and when he turns to look at Hoseok, he sees a similar sobriety (but not solemnity) reflected in the other's long face.
"...Wow," Hobi eventually exhales with a grin, seemingly no worse for wear, and it occurs to Yoongi that he has seen fireworks before, in the broad stretch of lips, the flash of teeth, the delighted eyes that hold an energy at least equal to the lights that danced above their head only seconds ago.
"Wow," Yoongi agrees, but for once that's not enough, not nearly enough, and he crafts the words so quickly he might as well be rapping them. "Seriously. That was no joke. Ah, Hobi-ah, thank you. Thank you, that was one of the coolest things I've ever seen."
With a low chuckle Hoseok sits up, pulling Yoongi with him. "Just don't tell Jin-hyung that, okay? He might be jealous." Snickering, the wiry man makes to stand, but Yoongi stops him with something incredibly close to fireworks exploding in his chest.
As Hobi frowns curiously, Yoongi tilts his head in a brief, uncertain twitch, his lips pressed together. Voice rasping hesitantly from his throat, eventually he says, "...Let's just stay for a bit. I bet everyone at the party hasn't even missed us yet." And he means it, he does, especially the first part, because Yoongi has always been very aware of the special moments in his life, and he wants this one to draw out for as long as possible.
When his friend considers, shrugs and settles back onto the sand, Yoongi lets himself breathe a sigh of relief. He angles his head back to admire the sky, leaning lightly against Hobi's solid form, and he couldn't have said how long they stayed that way, trading words like useless currency and enjoying each other's presence as if they themselves were fireworks.
A/N: Writing this made me very soft. Always and ever, thanks for reading guys! And if anyone has any requests from the 100 ways to say I love you list, just give me a number and pairing (it can be x reader) and I’ll try to get it done!
