I Wanna Hold Your Hand | MYG
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, Roommates!AU
Rating: T
Warnings: pining, a lil’ smooching, Yoongi is very persuasive, reader is easily duped, it's as fluffy as freshly fallen snow
Word Count: 1.4K
Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me
Summary: It's hand-holding season, according to your roommate.
A/N: I wrote this off a prompt from the Winter Wonderland Fic Event, run by the lovely @hellojeongkook ! I know it's early in the holiday season yet, but I was inspired. Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕
Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜
“It’s hand-holding season.”
He says it so matter-of-factly that you don’t question him. You’ve been roommates with Yoongi for almost a year now, and he’s always dropping these little tidbits of knowledge, sprinkling them in at random as you go about your days together.
“Back in the 17th century, they paid taxes with rice,” he informs you as he prepares a delicious meal of bibimbap for lunch for the two of you, topping it with a perfectly fried egg.
“Did you know that ‘whisky' means ‘water of life?’” he inquires as he pours you a nightcap, which you share on your balcony overlooking the small, busy neighborhood where your apartment resides.
“The first oranges ever grown weren’t actually orange,” he comments as he peels a tangerine, offering you the first slice as always.
Yoongi is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. He’s overflowing with this obscure trivia, and you long ago stopped doubting that his facts were true. So when he announces it’s hand-holding season and reaches out, you assume it’s some weird winter tradition you’re not familiar with, not being from this area, and accept his hand.
But it’s not just that one moment. No, Yoongi grabs your hand all the time now. On the couch. In line for the bus. At dinner with your friends, all of whom seem unable to stop grinning every time they look at you. Weirdos. Your fingers interlace as he tugs you to his side everywhere you go.
It’s a little awkward at first. It’s been so long since someone held your hand that you’d almost forgotten the way it feels, palm pressed against palm, fingers curling around each other. But you get used to it, and before long you’re the one extending a hand, grasping, seeking him out.
“Why are you two holding hands?” Jungkook queries one movie night with your friends, sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch where you sit by Yoongi’s side. The movie is paused while you wait for Hobi to return from his kitchen with more snacks. Namjoon looks up from his perch on Hobi’s armchair, eyes going wide at Jungkook’s question.
“Because it’s hand-holding season,” you answer succinctly, sipping on your hot cider.
“Hand-holding… season?”
“Yeah, Jungkook, you know. That time of year when you hold hands. Hand-holding season. It’s pretty self-explanatory,” Yoongi jumps in, looking at Jungkook.
Jungkook nods slowly. “Right… forgot about that one.”
A week later, standing in a cluster with your friends at the bar, listening to some local band perform a mind-boggling mashup of “What Child Is This?” and “Sweet Child O’Mine,” Yoongi excuses himself from the group to get you another drink. His hand drops from yours as he pulls away, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch Jimin and Taehyung snickering.
“What?” you inquire, frowning as you realize they were laughing at you. You lower your head, eyes narrowing to thin slits as you glare at your friends, waiting.
“Nothing,” Jimin insists, but you aren’t convinced and only after threatening to expose his deepest, darkest secret (he didn’t break his nose two years ago after getting into a fight defending your honor at a party; he just got so drunk that he ran into a glass door) does he continue, “It’s just… the hand-holding. It’s cute! But like… you know that’s not a thing, right?”
“What do you mean, it’s not a ‘thing?’ It’s some sort of local winter custom or something. Isn’t it?” Your voice falters as you catch the look on their faces.
“Sweetie,” Taehyung begins, his voice kind, almost pitying, “no. He just wants to hold your hand.”
There’s no time to process this before Yoongi returns. He clasps your hand and you stare at where your fingers are laced with his, wondering.
The night rolls on and eventually your friends drift off. Soon it’s only you and Yoongi, but once he sees you fighting to stifle a yawn and failing miserably, you head out into the snowy night, homebound.
Snowflakes swirl around you on the trek home, but the air feels heavy with something else. Something unspoken. Everything around you is covered in a fluffy white blanket that shimmers slightly under the streetlights, and you could easily get lost on these streets just as easily as you get lost in your thoughts. But that familiar sensation at your side, Yoongi’s fingers clutching yours, reassures you. It’s a comforting weight, anchoring you in the moment.
Back inside your place, you collapse on the couch, wrapping a velvety throw around you as Yoongi brings you both some water. He sits next to you, hand seeking yours immediately. He natters on about something someone did at work but you’re not listening, thinking about Taehyung’s words.
“Yoongi,” you interrupt him, and his mouth draws into a straight line as he waits to hear what could be so important that you’d cut him off. “What other seasons should I know about?”
He cocks his head questioningly. “Huh?”
“It’s hand-holding season,” you state. “What’s next?”
His face remains blank. But he’s quiet a little too long, so you go on.
“Is cuddle season next?” you ask, sliding closer to him until your thighs touch. He peers at you through hooded eyes, swallowing before speaking. “It could be. I’m not sure. I’d have to check.”
“Mmm,” you reply, nudging his arm with your own until he lifts it. Nuzzling into him, head resting on his shoulder as his arm falls into place around you, you sigh contentedly. “If it isn’t, it should be.”
Yoongi is uncharacteristically silent for once, but his fingers rub soothing circles on your side as he holds you close.
“Yoongi,” you murmur after a moment, voice muffled by his hoodie. Tilting your face up, you peer at your roommate. “I should probably go to bed.”
His dark eyes contain several shades of brown, you realize, with tiny golden flecks glimmering as he gazes warmly at you. From so close, they’re even more beautiful than you thought.
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he mumbles after a minute, and you rise and bid him goodnight.
Glancing over your shoulder as you pad towards your bedroom, you spy him still on the couch, his fingers tracing gingerly over the spot you just vacated, as if he is searching for your hand even now.
In the morning, Yoongi finds you waiting for him in the kitchen, a mug of coffee ready exactly how he likes it (black). He thanks you, and you wait for him to take a few sips, letting the caffeine jumpstart his brain before you speak.
“So, I figured it out,” you announce excitedly.
“You figured it out?” he repeats, brow furrowing.
Nodding, you grab his hand, weaving your fingers together as you tug him towards the hallway by the door.
“I looked it up while you were sleeping. It’s kissing season next.”
You point up. He does a double take, noticing something tiny and green hanging overhead.
A clump of spinach, tied together with kitchen string, dangling haphazardly from a heating vent.
“Why is the spinach for our lunch hanging from the ceiling?”
“I told you, kissing season is coming! But… we don’t have any mistletoe. So I had to make do.” You beam at your roommate as he stares at you, blinking sluggishly, the gears slowly clicking into place.
“Kissing season.”
“Yes.”
“And you determined this…”
“When I looked it up this morning. Online,” you proclaim, embellishing your lie.
“Online.” His eyebrow quivers minutely, as if he wishes to challenge you, but his expression remains vacant.
“Yes.”
“And it said kissing season comes after hand-holding season.”
You giggle. “Do you need a little more coffee, sleepyhead? Yes, that’s what it said. I couldn’t find anything about cuddle season. It said to prepare for kissing. So, voila!” You gesture over his head. “I think we’re ready, don’t you?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond. His face gives nothing away.
So you wait, humming to yourself, hands folded behind your back.
Until he finally breaks.
“I can’t believe you bought it for so long,” he laughs, and you shove him away playfully.
“Hey! You’re no better, thinking you had to make up a stupid excuse to hold my hand.”
He grabs your hand again, thumb tracing lightly over your knuckles. “So I don’t need one?”
“No, dumbass,” you chide affectionately. “You never did.”
The sweet gummy smile you’ve always adored spreads across his face, and you reach out for his other hand, pulling him closer.
“We’re both just a couple of dumbasses, aren’t we?” he mutters softly, nose brushing against yours. You loop both arms around his neck and nod.
“I’m afraid so,” you inform him with a sigh as his lips finally land on yours.
Kissing season, to your delight, never ends.
© 2021-22-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.
