genre: established relationship au, friends to lovers au, idol au, variety show au; fluff, slight angst
warnings: cursing, they drink (are of age, obv), mentions of past struggles, anxiety
word count: 3.2k
author's note parts of this are inspired by or directly taken from suchwita as well as other interviews yoongi has appeared in for info. inspired by a work of @gayforddlovato in wattpad!
summary: you appear as a guest on suchwita after dating rumors of you and its host, min yoongi swoops the internet.
legend:
*...* - text edited on the final video
[...] - images/videos edited on screen
(intro of daechwita)
[into of suchwita starts playing]
*suchwita - drinking with suga*
the episode starts with the camera panning to host, min yoongi, wearing a casual all-black fit. he swiftly walks towards the table, sitting on the right chair, with a subtle knowing smile on his face as he takes his tablet, pulling it closer, getting ready to start the show.
"hello, everyone; suchwita is back." he says nonchalantly, lifting the corners of his mouth, plastering the view of his gummy smile, clapping. *long time no see!*
"ah, it's nice to be back. our guest today is very special, one of the core people that helped bts put out albums as well as d-day and other solo projects of mine. makes this episode extra special, too, right?" he adds as he adjusts his chair, implying a double entendre pertaining to you, making you smile behind the cameras. he always talks so highly of you, to everyone and about anything. he subtly shifts his gaze to you, returning the smile.
"i'm pretty sure you're all familiar with her...name: y/n. occupation: producer, singer, actress. "i've long asked for an appearance at your show, why has it taken you so long to invite me?" he reads, laughing at the description provided for you.
"i'm sincerely sorry, and please welcome, y/n." [some popular tracks you have produced plays: cool with you - new jeans, underwater - red velvet, home - bts, as well as some short clips of you in films.]
you came in with a smile, wearing a dark outfit, complementary to his, bringing a brown paper bag for your beverage.
yoongi stands, acknowledging your presence, and he claps. you take your time to wave and bow at the staff as well who were clapping upon your arrival.
[cuts to you sitting down]
"ah, welcome, welcome." yoongi politely says. you both suppress a smirk, amused to see your long-term boyfriend sit opposing you, forced to act platonic, as if it has been your first time interacting, when you know it's the complete opposite of that. as if you won't go home with each other tonight and only resorting to replying with: "thank you for having me."
just a week ago, an image of you and yoongi had circulated the internet. walking from a convenience store, arm in arm. jackets to fight off the cold and caps, a pathetic way to try and disguise your identities. whenever you were meeting somewhere, it was always the three: sunglasses, mask, and a cap. it should have been a habit by now. but it was also 2:00 am in the morning. you were finishing up some songs in the studio and was in desperate need of ingesting caffeine. you decided to walk to the nearest store, dragging yoongi with you, who at first was stubborn about it, unknowing that such a mindless act would cause years of going undercover blow up.
despite its horrid quality, netizens were quick to nitpick details, connect dots, and speculate that it was the both of you.
hybe is yet to come out with a statement regarding the issue. but, the people seem to have had their verdict, with some saying yoongi was too good for you, or that it made sense for you to date as rumors have long circulated even before the leak. the topic is yet to die down, and is even still as hot as ever. it just so happens that you were already scheduled to appear at suchwita after the dating rumors swoops the internet. the company's decision was to push it, hoping to get more engagement from the issue, gaining more attention.
the air is surprisingly filled with tension. both of you are aware that everybody in this room know what's going on between the two of you, you do work for the same company afterall. arriving together, bringing home made lunches for each other, and the blatant "hey, mind i crash at yours tonight", happens too often for it to be platonic.
for most idols who date, it's like that. often it's easier for them to just date someone inside the same company or closer due to the busy schedules and fear of getting caught. but your relationship with yoongi wasn't merely for convenience; it's way more than that.
"oh, here," you say, handing him the bag you had brought with you. he politely accepts it with both hands, slightly brushing with yours.
it's no big deal, really. you hug, and kiss, and do even more than, but you would be lying if you said it didn't make you anxious, even a little bit. the fact that this would be broadcasted for the whole internet to feast on wrecked your nerves. it will be another week of turning off comments and messages on instagram to prevent your phone from blowing off, but it's no big deal really.
the truth is, neither of you really gave a damn. hell, you've been pretty obvious for years now, and not just among the staff: appearing in the background of bangtan bombs, posting about hanging out with some of the guys, and that one time when you both hosted where fans immediately dug for interactions. you and yoongi mutually agree that maybe it's time to free yourselves a little bit. angering those who hate on you more and blessing those who have spent years trying to connect the dots, by being seen in one frame.
yoongi peeks into the bag and all of a sudden throws his head back with a chuckle. *what could it be?*
you wanted to surprise him, and it worked.
"oh, wow." he says as he reveals the drink you brought; bourbon. "see, i knew you were going to bring an alcoholic drink," he adds, which took you aback, making you laugh as well.
"it was going to be among beer, soju, whiskey-" he lists off.
"hey!" you interject, playfully smacking his arm.
"but oh wow, you know i rarely drink this thing."
you know. you had brought a drink that meant something between the two of you; the exact brand and kind.
despite hybe being a small company back then, they still held parties every now and then. you were drinking the same exact thing and had drunken confessions that night; ever since, you've strictly only been drinking it together on your anniversary.
it's those type of things that really get you. he was the one that proposed the idea, saying you should "save it" when trying to invite him to a drink, which confused you at first, but made sense in the long run. it was the little things that made you think maybe he does like you back.
"shall i make you a new york sour?" you say as you take the glasses from beside you.
you look back at him and see him holding the bottle with an expression that says "i thought this was for?" you just smirk. he thinks you ambushed him for all he knew was that you were going to bring a fancy wine of some sort, but you had a trick up your sleeve.
"guys, if you know, you know." you say, winking.
"but they don't know though?" he says, which made you feel a bit silly. *embarrassed*
"this, was it 2015? we had a, uh, a celebration, a party. and something happened that night" he explained.
"excuse me?" you asked, raising your brow. "what? no, no, not like that!" he defensively argues, making you and some staff laugh.
"what was it that happened?" you ask, both having to hold your smile, trying to keep your composure.
"if you know, you know." he retorts back, winking at the camera. *iyk,yk!*
the "explanation" only really made sense to those who knew. that it wasn't merely a party, it wasn't anything funny, but one that changed your lives.
to the regular fan it sounds confusing, weird even. but to you it sounds like the deafening music that had you up your feet the entire night; the mixed smell of strong cologne, alcohol, and sweat; and the cold breeze of the air that was freezing your brain's ability to comprehend what "how do you feel about us" meant.
but of course, if you know, you know.
[cut to your glasses being prepared]
"oh wow, so you brought a sentimental drink, y/n?" he asks, to which you nod.
you're like that. all sentimental and extremely emotional. yoongi knew that. and he always does his best to make you feel loved the way you love. sure, being given an expensive piece of jewelry is fantastic. spending a week in a foreign country, just the two of you was amazing. but simply drinking wine together on the place where you had your first date equates that.
"we also prepared these," he adds as the staff slowly place trays of food on your table.
"woah!" you exclaimed. *an array of dishes suited to y/n's taste!*
"wow, you really went all out," you say, smiling with gratitude.
"of course, it's you afterall." he says, making you feel flustered.
of course he went all out. he's like this. always does everything to spoil you, make you happy. he knew you. the most.
"if you guys didn't know, y/n is my go-to, you could say, drinking buddy."
"oh, you're making it sound like i drink often."
"don't you?" you die at his reply, lowering your head, as the room filled with laughter.
if there's anything two sleep deprived producers do to ease their stress, aside from the obvious ;), it was to drink together. and that happened as often as you would have liked.
this playful banter eased you. aside from the dating rumors, you were also one of the closest people in the industry, everybody knew that, even the fans. you were best friends close and then slowly became more than friends close.
you met him just a short while before their debut, while you were also trying your shot to become a renowned producer. it wasn't hard to form connections, given the size of the company back then. you also quickly climbed to the top and became one of the most known and trusted, mentored by great seniors such as pdogg and slow rabbit. that's also how you met yoongi.
befriending him was quite easy with your similar personalities; introverted and the love for the mundane. though, it seems the complete opposite when you're together, always laughing, exchanging banter with no one else but each other.
you liked yoongi. a lot. his dry humor that often goes unnoticed, sarcasm that people interpret as attitude sometimes, his dedication to his work, his eyes (that were chunked with black eyeliner a lot at the time), the way he listens and remembers.
[cut to you grilling meat]
"so, suga-ssi,"
"suga-ssi?" he says, surprised at the sudden formality.
"yes, why has it taken you so long to invite me in your show?" he chuckles.
"is it because i might spill something about you, hmm?" you playfully say, wiggling your brows.
"you see, army, yoongi isn't that much of a tough guy." you add.
"oh, come on. i never really claimed to be one." he defends.
"he snores so much. so much."
"let's be honest, who doesn't?"
"oh, everyone do you also snore so loudly you get woken up by your own sound?" made the room burst with laughter. *tmi!*
"please edit that out,"
time passes and you can feel your body slowly getting warmer as you work through your drinks and chow down your food as well as the questions he's been asking you.
you and yoongi talked about your jobs as producers, past albums, and future projects you will be working on. he thanks you for helping him put his album out, not only with your musicality but also emotionally—by being there as someone he can rely on.
"they most especially loved people pt. 2."
"oh, yes!"
[clips of you and yoongi performing people pt.2 live plays]
"i personally really liked people from d-2,"
"mm, you liked that song so much i couldn't not release it. everyone please say thank you, y/n, for people and people pt. 2." *thank you, y/n!*
"oh come on. it wasn't like i made the thing. i just really thought the melody was a beautiful channel to the message of the song, you know? it wasn't very upbeat, or as dark as the main track, but it creates a good contrast for the album." you trail off. yoongi just looks at you with nothing but admiration. nodding to every single thing you were saying regardless of what it was. god he was such a sucker for you, and he wasn't afraid to show it despite the huge cameras on your faces.
"well, your opinion matters to me," he says after quite some time.
"well, voice too. there are just tracks that yearn to have you sing in it."
you felt like you were knocked off your feet if only you weren't sitting down. these things he never fails to say, but to say it here, in front of all these people?
"aww. see, you guys! i'm just that of an important person in yoongi's life." you quickly teased, shooting multiple winks towards the cameras.
"of course you are." he says, adding the final blow.
he looks at you in a way that makes you feel hesitant to look back in the fear of getting sucked into the dark orbs in his eyes. you accidentally sharply inhale, sort of breaking the building weight between the two of you.
you actually weren't planning about disclosing anything about your relationship at all. just to come in to drink and talk as friends, nothing more. but there was undeniably something about how you interacted that makes it undeniable.
"we go way back, don't we?" he says after quite some time. you let out a dry laugh, unable to look at him, reminiscing the past.
"we were so young. so ambitious, too."
your breathing goes heavy. you aren't quite sure if it's the alcohol that's making you feel like this, or the fact that when you think about it, you have been through so much, together.
you were passionate about music, there's no denying that. investing your all into your music was not just to put your craft out, but also, admitantly, to earn something from it. if it weren't for the eviction notice plastered on your front door, you would have chosen to go to college. if yoongi had enough than to pick over his next meal or a bus ticket, he wouldn't have risked it all in such a young age.
pursuing your passion was a big gamble. there were times where you questioned if it was still worth it after sacrificing so much and getting so little in return or nothing at all. but oh was it so worth it. knowing how it ends, in the end, you'd choose to go through it all over again.
"you had spiky hair, and i had micro bangs." you giggle, the image popping up in your head.
"we were so immature." he chuckles, remembering the ridiculous fashion choices younger versions of you had.
"we met when we were 19, we're 33 now." you say and smile bitterly.
all of a sudden, a warm tear just pours out of your eye, taking yoongi aback. he quickly takes out a tissue from his side of the table, and instead of giving it to you, he leans forward and gently pats it on your face as you just let the tears fall one after the other.
he hands you some more as you sniffle. you look at him with slightly red eyes to see that he was looking away from you. he always does this, you knew. seeing you get all emotional makes him emotional as well. and if looking behind you with a thousand yard stare prevented the both of you from becoming a crying sniffling mess, then you allowed it.
"god, why am i like this! i'm so sorry." you tilt your head towards the director and other staff.
"what are you talking about," yoongi says, ensuring you that it was more than alright.
"oh wow, this drink's really hitting me!" you joke, smiling.
"hey, we've been friends for so long now, you should be used to it." you add, pertaining to the tears. he purses his lips and nods. "i am."
a staff hands you a bottle of water and you quickly drink its content.
"we've been friends for what, 14 years now?"
"mhm. and more than friends for 12?" yoongi says, which made you want to cry even more.
"like, as best friends?" you say, acting clueless.
"if you know, you know!" he smiles.
"oooh," you playfully squint your eyes, smiling as well. *what's the real deal?*
[cut to the final remarks]
"wow, we've been by each others' side for more than a decade now!" he excitedly says.
"we're also quite old, aren't we?" you slightly cover your mouth as if you were scared of getting heard jokingly, attempting to make the atmosphere light again.
"see, earlier you were crying and now you're saying nonsense like that." he rebutts. *tmi yet again!*
"happy tears, happy tears,"
"for our final question, q: what should we expect from y/n?"
you excitedly talk about an album that you will be releasing a month from now, letting viewers know of which artists to look forward to in your collaborations.
"should we be expecting anything prod. suga or ft. suga?"
"that's yours to discover," you remark, adding a final wink.
"and lastly, anything you want to say to our dear viewers?"
"dear viewers, please continue to support our individual projects as well as us together," yoongi smiled at the latter part of your message implying a double entendre, pertaining to both your collaborations and relationship.
"also so that i can come back here more often!" you smile.
you guys wrap up by thanking him for inviting you and giving your thanks to the staff who were there to help and the show ends.
[end]
a few weeks after that suchwita episode, hybe releases a statement confirming the dating rumors.
twitter blew up the moment that episode was released with fans celebrating the patterns they've seen in your music for the past years, as well as the theories that have long been circulating, finally confirmed through hybe's statement and that episode.
@jinshoulders667: see, we knew it!
@iloveminsugaaaaa: "he snores so much" hmm probably woken next to him to have known 🤔
*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣
Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.
→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)
→ AUs: camping!au, roadtrip!au, non idol!au, mechanic!yoongi
→ Genre(s): humor/comedy, slight angst, smut and fluff
→ Trope(s): friends to lovers
→ Rating: mature/explicit/R18
(this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
→ Word count (total): 147.7k
→ Status: completed!
→ warnings + triggers: will be tagged on each individual chapter!
→ Author’s note: this is a re-upload! The story hasn’t changed one bit, it’s the same one. But I wanted to thank all of you who read it before, and loved it. I hope you’ll welcome this one back into your arms 🥹
→ Read on AO3? [link]
Gonna be completely honest im not sure if you wanted bts as fanboys or how bts interacts with their fanboys so I'm gonna do them as fanboys bc I feel like that's the more interesting of the two (I'm so so sorry if that's wrong in which case you can totally request it again and be more clear I would totally re-write it if I'm wrong)
Kim Seokjin
Jin definitely roasts other fans and claims to be a day 1 supporter.
"I literally knew them when they just posted covers online.
Jin buys all your merch, official and unofficial.
Jin spends hours watching fan-made edits of you.
Jin plays the Sims4 just to create you as a sim and then spoil your sim but forces it to write new music when you're on break/hiatus.
"Close enough. Welcome back, Y/N. When's the next album?"
Jin makes his own video compilations of your funny moments and then laughs at them for hours.
Proud of his obsession and talks about you when he doesn't know what else to talk about with new people.
Attends fan meets
Jin makes memes of the fandom's inside jokes
Min Yoongi
Yoongi buys all your albums (cd form, vinyl form etc.) just to have and collect
He writes fanfiction of you (series, one shots etc) mostly fluff but there is the occasional smutty fic, hyper erotic and juicy asf but still respectful.
He's secretly hugely infatuated but still keeps it subtle/ to himself
"Yeah their music is always in my playlists." with his usual kitten smile.
"Collaborating on something with them would be a huge accomplishment." Hed calmly reply to comments about you on weverse live.
Yoongi paints portraits of you/ makes tons of fan art but its not obvious that its fanart because he makes it look like regular everyday art.
Yoongi not only watches your interviews, he reads them, enjoying the articles far more than video interviews.
"they seem much more comfortable and open in the written interviews" hed say to himself
He's so delulu he learned all your rumoured favourite foods and how to cook them "just in case"
zones out thinking about the meanings behind your songs
Youre his celebrity crush
Yoongi doesn't attend fan meets or concerts because he a more lowkye/ private fan
just interact with the fandom
Jung heosok
Hobi writing remixes of your songs constantly
Hobi being the only one of the boys to actually be friends with you in real life
"can I get on a remix of your recent single?"
Gossiping with him about other idols
"did you hear about the scandal that group was in? they haven't even debuted yet." while tapping your hand before leaning back.
him still being a mega fan despite being friends with you
Having a yoongi and halsey dynamic
begging you to stream on weverse all the time just because he knows other fans want it just as bad.
"come on!! please just an hour. ill get you those cookies you really love.
reposting all your Instagram posts with sweet captions.
"bestie is looking so good!!!" with a ton of emojis
recreating your tiktok dances
also starts dance trends to your music and encourages people to jump on the trend
"I'll repost your video if you do this dance." big heart shaped smile.
Kim Namjoon
namjoon studies your lyrics, finds the double meanings and the word play
"reviews" and reacts to your music in YouTube videos
watches the countdown to your music being released on whatever platform (youtube, weverse etc.)
"supposedly the camera rig malfunctioned on set, that's why the camera is so shaky but they didn't re-shoot because it added to the windy scene" he'd say all jumpy and giddy like a kid on a sugar rush
has your autograph framed from the one and only time he met you
namjoon was very flustered and shy when he met you
"oh uh yeah I love your music and the double meanings in your last song."
gushes about the cinematography in your music videos
Namjoon writes questions he'd ask you if he got to interview you
Watches movies and tags you as characters that remind him of you
Park Jimin
Loves to let your music play while he's doing something and then harmonizes with your vocals
buys Vip tickets to all your events
posts your lyrics on social media
"this part omg!!!"
One time you smiled at him in the crowd and he freaked out and bragged about it for months
"they totally smiled at me last night"
"do you think they remember me from the fan meet last month?"
he's constantly talking with other fans
jimin makes bracelets with letter beads that spell your name or album names
jimin copies your makeup just because he thinks you're the picture of beauty purely in a view of admiration
he views you like greek statues.
"wow- their cheekbones-" he'd say in awh, face right up to the screen while he held a mirror and makeup brush in hands.
Kim Taehyung
requests your songs at parties and other events
begs the guys to do a cover of your songs on stage
name drops you in interviews and is always talking about you in his own interviews
has a huge crush on you and will say so proudly
"they're so pretty. Y/n if you see this, call me." with a sly smirk on his face, completely disregarding the uproar it would cause with army
Taehyung gets super shy when you say his name
Being shy despite being so confident when he talks about you in interviews
"uh- oh- the new song- yeah." while giggling
apologizing profusely when you tease him about the interviews when he comes to fan meets
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook would write a song about you that's how down bad he is
Posts on social media in hopes you see it
Kook argues with taehyung about thinking he'd treat you better given the chance
argues with jin about being a bigger fan
picks out his outfits to coordinate with yours
kook hopes to run into you at award shows
stalks your fanpages
reads yoongis fanfiction about you
probably is the more devoted fan among the other members
sings your songs all the time, in the car, shower, while cooking, etc.
the only one of the boys that talks to you confidently
"Your style is amazing, I take inspiration all the time." while standing up straight and s soft confident smile on his lips, eye contact unwavering.
but he would never admit that he's written and released songs about you
+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
sorry this took so long i was trying to get all the requests in order! i hope these were up to par hcs are usually very rushed. if you'd like something more detailed or even full drabbles id totally be down to do that.
if you wanna be tagged in future works to be notified when I've posted a fic please fill out the taglist form linked below along with the masterposts
➽ Yoongi Masterlist
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➽ Taglist Form
☆summary: when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?
☆pairing: Min Yoongi x singer female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: work collaborators to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff
☆warnings: alcohol, cursing, OC has family problems similar to those Yoongi went through, financial insecurity, loneliness, cheating but not cheating because they are on a break, sexist interviewer, explicit content: grinding, dom!reader, switch!Yoongi, big dick!Yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, face riding, tits/nipples play, hickey, fingering, protected sex, choking, clit play, denied orgasms (due to consensual drunk sex), fingering, mentions of anal sex, handcuffs, anal plug, anal fingering
☆word count: 34.9k
☆a/n: it’s so weird to post something other than The Forgotten Spaces :’) I hope you’ll still enjoy this! As per always, thank you to @moonleeai for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3
☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Seven months ago
Music had always been home to you. A refuge, a safe haven from your family life as you had grown up. It had been held in the keys of your piano, and in the pages of your diary. Songs after songs, lines underlined and others erased. Clever play of words, rhymes and music to accompany it. Some of them had made it to your first EP, but most you had tried to forget.
Your past wasn’t one you wanted to revisit. Not when you had gotten a deal with a record label, something you hadn’t expected to happen at such a young age.
Idol life had never been something you were aiming for. You chose the backstreets, the smaller scene, and produced indie music as you went. It still got you a following, one that had been growing through the years, until your name was known all over Seoul.
You wondered if it had reached your hometown too, but the silence on your phone was clear enough: even if your parents had heard, their older daughter had been dead to them a long time ago. You had stopped caring through the years, pouring your hate for your family in your songs. You had even dived in the genre of rap a little. Rhythm and poetry, laced together until you lost yourself in the music.
It was different from your usual, but it had gotten the attention of a big name in the music industry. He had suggested a collaboration, offering to produce the song. All you had to do was help with the lyrics, though you were pretty sure he had that part covered. Of course he also wanted you to record some parts of the song for him, needing a female voice to be able to carry the meaning. Nothing too complicated.
After all, Min Yoongi already was a successful established artist. Far more successful than you ever thought you would be. It had taken you by surprise, when he had contacted you. It had been a random Tuesday night, and your agent had been going crazy, so much so you had had to tell him to calm down otherwise you were going to drop the collab. Minhyuk hadn’t needed more to oblige, and you had found yourself working on the song in the following weeks.
You weren’t surprised when Min Yoongi came to you with an almost finished version of the song. You had tweaked some parts, and surprisingly enough, he had trusted the changes. Even if you had made him rework one of his own verses, Yoongi had listened to you intently, and had seen the intelligence behind your suggestions.
You could only hope he would see the intelligence between the changes you wanted to make now. Because the song was set to release in a few weeks, and you were pretty convinced he didn’t like last minute changes.
Maybe that was why you found yourself going to his place, with a whiskey bottle as an offering so he wouldn’t be too mad.
Yes, you knew where Min Yoongi lived. In a far more luxurious condo building compared to your own, with a huge condo that stood on two stories of the upper levels. It offered him a beautiful view of the city, though you had yet to visit at night. Indeed, he had only made you come here once, on one of the early Saturdays of your collab.
You realized as you stood in front of the building that this was stupid. You hadn’t even texted or called him in advance to inform him of your impromptu visit. Had only decided the changes about an hour ago, and had rushed to the liquor store to grab the expensive bottle you currently held.
But life seemed to have plans for you. Other than that of running away into the night before you had the chance to embarrass yourself. That is, life had planned for you to run into Min Yoongi as he was walking back home, and you both stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before you collected yourself, offering him a respectful bow.
“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, and you hesitated before you straightened.
His hands were in his pockets, protecting him from the cold the evening held. He had an unreadable expression on his features, as if the sight of you was an inconvenience, but he didn’t want to let it show.
You weren’t stupid enough to believe collaborating with him had made you friends. Min Yoongi was a professional through and through, in everything he did. Apart from his members, you knew he didn’t mix work and personal life.
He said your name, and for a second you thought you saw confusion on his features. “What are you doing here?”
You stood there, not knowing what to say for what probably was a good ten seconds but felt like an eternity. His eyes flitted to the whiskey bottle, and you were pretty sure a disapproving look passed in his gaze, not lingering long enough for you to be sure you had truly seen it.
“I have some suggestions to make for the song,” you said. Your voice held strong, even though you felt incredibly uncomfortable under his stare.
His eyes widened a little, and his lips parted for a second before his mouth fell shut again. He looked behind you, to the hall of his building, before settling his gaze on you again.
“What do you have in mind?”
Oof. At least he was letting you talk. “It’s for the last bridge,” you started. “I think I could sing the last part differently. It’s lacking emotion.”
Yoongi had bothered you about emotion a lot when you had first been recording. Had told you he was surprised you couldn’t carry your usual emotion in this song. Which meant he had listened to your album, and you hadn’t known what to make of it for a time.
But you knew mentioning emotion was the way to go. Indeed, Yoongi slightly tilted his head to the side, still as unreadable, but you were convinced he was considering it.
“What makes you think you can get it better this time?”
There were no clues in his tone to let you know what he might have been thinking.
You had to refrain from scoffing. “I have what you need, trust me.”
He pursed his lips, just a little. A crack in his professional mask.
Because the song held sadness. The angry nostalgic kind. And hadn’t it been for the fact your parents hadn’t even deigned to call you for your birthday, you probably wouldn’t have found the right emotion in you to deliver the performance Yoongi had first wanted from you.
“Very well,” he said, nodding once. “You can record it in my home studio.”
You nodded too, agreeing to his invitation. You weren’t foolish enough to pass on the opportunity. You fell into step with Yoongi as he started moving towards the door again, the bottle of whiskey heavy in your hand.
“I brought a gift to apologize for being here so late,” you tentatively said. Not really knowing what approach to take when it came to the ice radiating off Min Yoongi today.
He had never been openly cold before. But you could feel it in the hard stretch of his shoulders, and the muscle that feathered on his jaw whenever he clenched it. Something was upsetting him, something that had made him go on a walk at a late hour just to clear his mind.
You were familiar with such walks. You getting to his place had started as a walk like that. Until you had seen the liquor store and decided to be gone with formalities.
You hadn’t expected him to let you see his emotions. Even if a minute ago you had been at a loss with how he felt, now you could physically feel the anger on him. But ever so the professional and gentleman, Yoongi held the door open for you, breathing in one last time the cold air of the night before he stepped in behind you.
And just like that the unbreakable mask was back in place. It wasn’t like you minded: like him, you prided yourself in your professionality. Just because Yoongi was a big name in the industry didn’t mean that you were going to forfeit your nature.
Maybe that was the reason why the elevator ride was so awkward. Yoongi had dived his hands back in his pockets as soon as he had hit the call button, and then after he had pressed on his level. You were just standing next to him, and the silent elevator smoothly went up the floors until you reached his. You found yourself straining to look ahead, avoiding to glance at him.
He seemed as if he needed privacy, and you were not going to be the one to take it from him. Fortunately, the whiskey bottle was a rock in the awkwardness, keeping you steady even as your head turned from wanting to disappear. It gave you something to do as the elevator moved, and you almost dreaded the moment it would come to a stop.
So you did the only thing you knew how to do. You thought about your parents, about the phone that hadn’t rang today, and you clenched your jaw as the emotions swarmed in.
Min Yoongi wasn’t the only one in a mood.
The elevator halted, slowing on its hinges until it had fully stopped. The doors slid open, and Yoongi walked out. You took a steadying breath before following him, and you looked away as he typed the code to his condo on the pad on his door.
Fancy condo buildings and their technologies be damned.
The pad whirred as it unlocked the door, and a few seconds later, you were in Min Yoongi’s condo. You breathed in, inhaling the remaining scent of a home-cooked meal. It smelled good, infinitely better than what you could cook, and your stomach had the nerve to growl as you watched Yoongi take off his shoes.
You fought the blush that was creeping on your cheeks as Yoongi glanced at you. “Have you not eaten dinner?”
You hadn’t. You had tried getting seaweed soup, but just the thought of eating it alone for your birthday had made you sick to your stomach. The only thing that was fueling your body today was the coffee you had drunk this morning and the sandwich you had forced yourself to eat at lunch time.
“Sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll get something to eat at the convenience store after, it shouldn’t be too long anyway.”
He watched you carefully, and you wondered if he could tell you were in a mood. You didn’t even know if he cared. He didn’t really seem as if he did, because he only nodded his head curtly before motioning to some slippers left abandoned by the door.
“You can put these on,” he told you, and then he was walking down the hall, shrugging off his coat.
You watched him go with a confused expression, before you did as told. You hesitated for a good minute before you followed him, almost feeling as if you were intruding on his personal space.
In all truth, you were very much so intruding on his personal space.
You didn’t remember much of his condo from your first visit. He had directly guided you to the studio, which was on the second floor. First door to the left. But tonight he hadn’t gone straight for that, so you followed the sounds until you reached a kitchen area.
Yoongi was putting some food in a bowl. Jajjangmyeon, from the looks of it, and you surveyed him as he slid the bowl in his microwave, before shutting the door and dialing the cooking time.
He turned to look at you, before motioning at some glasses he had put on the island, under the expensive looking chandelier.
“Why don’t you pour us a drink?” he suggested. “I’m reheating a plate for you, I don’t want your stomach to be gurgling while you record.”
You would have been embarrassed had this not been the first kind thing someone had done for you today.
Indeed, you didn’t have a lot of friends. Kept most of them at a distance, and none really knew when your birthday was. Mostly because you hated birthdays and had always thought them to be useless. Just another mark to add on the calendar, another year gone by without any news from your family.
“You don’t have to,” you said, and pink tinted your cheeks as you moved in.
He folded his arms on his chest, leaning against the counter. His eyes held an intensity you shied from as you focused on the glasses instead. “I would do it for anyone I collab with.”
You pursed your lips, nodding slightly, and the room fell silent except for the buzz of the microwave. You stopped in front of the glasses, putting the bottle down next to them. Not really knowing what to say to fill the silence, you uncorked the bottle, and the oaky scent of the whiskey filled your nose.
The familiar smell eased your nerves a little, and you poured the two glasses as Yoongi fished the bowl out of the microwave. He put it down next to you, and you glanced up to meet his face.
You hadn’t realized it before, but Yoongi had pretty features. His face was round, just a little, softening the edges of him, and his eyes were like gems on his face, shining in the light from the chandelier.
“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, before grabbing one of the glasses to give to him.
He bowed in thanks, taking the glass from you before inhaling the whiskey. “That’s an expensive bottle.”
You chuckled. “I felt bad for coming over so late.”
“It could have waited until tomorrow.”
It wasn’t reproachful, the way he said it. Just a statement, and maybe even a question. As much as he was professional, Min Yoongi wasn’t an asshole. He knew you were going through something, and although he clearly didn’t want to prod, he also didn’t want to pretend as if everything was okay.
You shrugged. “I tend to live my emotions quickly. If you want a raw result, then it had to be tonight.”
He wet his lips, and his eyes fell to the jajjangmyeon. “Then eat so we can get to work.”
*****
You finished recording for the fifth time. Each time Yoongi had suggested something a little different, something he believed would work better for the song. Less angry, more sadness. Find nostalgia and all that same crap.
You expected it when Yoongi said, “Let’s do it one more time. I think we almost have it.”
You glanced at him where he was sitting at his computer. You considered biting his head off, but then you nodded curtly.
He was right, there was way too much anger in your voice. So you shut your eyes, thinking about fifteen-year-old you having to leave your parents’ house because, “we won’t support you if you decide to give up on your life for some stupid dream”. You thought about you, living in the backroom of an old man’s restaurant, working shifts for him in exchange for a place to live, until you had been old enough to move to Seoul. You focused on the loneliness, on the knowledge that there was no one in this world at your side.
It always hit harder on your birthday, didn’t it?
When you felt ready, your eyes fluttered open, and you nodded at Yoongi, indicating that he could start the track you listened to for recording. You let the music fill you, syncing your soul with the chords that filled your ears until you were one with it. Until it was time to sing. Then you started singing, eyes shutting instinctively. You let the emotions guide your voice, let the loneliness formulate the lyrics.
It was over before you even realized it. The track fell silent, and still you kept your eyes shut.
“That was perfect,” Yoongi complimented you.
Even that wasn’t enough to bring your eyes to open. You had to take a few breaths, fighting the urge to break down that had taken over you. When the wave passed, you let your vision adjust to the world again, though it was blurry behind the bitter tears. You blinked them away, ignoring the feeling of Yoongi’s heavy gaze on your profile.
“Fucking finally,” you muttered, and you stepped away from the mic, taking off the headset.
Yoongi followed you with his eyes as you moved closer, putting the headset down next to his keyboard. “Don’t you want to hear?”
“I don’t need to.”
It wasn’t even confidence that motivated your words. Just nostalgia. Yoongi offered you a curt nod, before listening to it himself. He seemed satisfied with the result, because he nodded his head, rolling his chair away from the desk as he folded his arms on his chest. His gaze locked with yours, and a smile ghosted on his lips.
“I’ll send you the final result tomorrow,” he said.
You pursed your lips. “Sounds good. I guess I’ll get going then.”
You had half turned away from him when he spoke up. “Don’t you want another drink? That bottle was expensive.”
It really was. Way too expensive for your light wallet, but Yoongi was a whiskey connoisseur. You couldn’t have shown up with something less. Even if the bottle could have paid for your groceries for at least two weeks.
It wasn’t like you needed to eat three meals a day anyway, right? And with the money you were ought to make from the song, you could tighten the belt for a couple of weeks more.
“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “It’s late, I shouldn’t stay.”
Yoongi nodded, getting up from his chair. He hadn’t finished his glass yet, and he held your gaze as he downed it in one long gulp. You watched his throat muscle work, before letting your gaze drop to the ground.
“I’ll let you leave with the bottle then,” he said after he swallowed. “I have plenty of them already.”
“You really don’t have to,” you quickly said, with a panicked gaze.
He was smiling now. It took you by surprise. “Then you’re going to stay and drink another glass with me, mmh? We’re allowed to celebrate finishing the song.”
Hopefully it was the loneliness in you that made you say yes, and not the softness that took over Yoongi’s features. He seemed relieved, as if he had been embarrassed to ask, but he recovered quickly guiding you back to the kitchen area downstairs.
This time around, you took your time to admire his condo. To admire the simple elegance of the place. It was far more luxurious than your own apartment, which was a one bedroom with a single working light and water stains on the ceiling. Yoongi’s place was all but that. It was full of light, spotless, with scattered pieces of art to decorate. Nothing too excessive or fancy, and it almost made the condo look a little empty. As if Yoongi hadn’t really taken the time to decorate.
Or maybe he had just recently moved in, and his busy schedule was keeping him from decorating more.
“You’re lucky this is my favourite bottle,” he said with a friendly smile as you stopped next to the kitchen island, where you had left the whiskey earlier.
“Glad my guess was right.”
He wet his lips, before pouring himself another glass. He grabbed yours from the sink, pouring you a glass as well before offering it to you. “And here I thought you were a connoisseur.”
You didn’t have the money to be a connoisseur, so you just offered him a secretive smile, followed by, “Maybe I am”.
He chuckled, and then guided you to the living room. Another spacious room, with a rug in front of the couch you assumed was worth more than everything you owned. You tried not to let it show on your face, but you were pretty sure Yoongi could tell you were impressed.
The feeling was entirely replaced by surprise at the sight of the little dog that was sleeping in a dog bed under the wide window.
“Why haven’t I seen that dog before?” you asked, eyes widened.
“You like dogs?”
You nodded, and you took a couple of steps towards the animal. It almost looked dead where it was lying, but then the little dog looked up at you, blinking away sleepy eyes.
“He’s called Holly,” Yoongi provided as the dog got up, stretching and yawning. “He’s lazy.”
You faked offence for the dog. “Poor little baby, he’s just tired.”
Yoongi laughed, and the sound made you quickly look away from him. As much as it had been unexpected, it did wonders to the sadness that had been clinging to your form all day.
“Sorry Holly.”
It was your turn to laugh as the little dog barked before running to Yoongi, begging to be picked up. Yoongi took a sip of whiskey, before putting his glass down on the coffee table. He sat down on the couch, cuddling the dog to his chest as he got comfortable.
It was so domestic you just stood there, staring at him. He motioned to the couch next to him. “Have a seat.”
It broke the spell, and you blinked a few times before obeying, busying yourself with sipping the whiskey to ignore the way your cheeks were burning.
“How long have you had the dog?” you asked, trying to fill the silence that was threatening to fall into awkwardness.
And as Yoongi started telling you the tale of how he got his dog, you slowly settled yourself more comfortably on the couch, drinking the whiskey as you enjoyed listening to him. He looked far friendlier than you had ever seen him, and it slowly became easy to forget you were just a collaborator.
Maybe if it hadn’t been your birthday, you would have refused the third glass he offered. And maybe, maybe if your mind hadn’t started fogging with the alcohol, you would have refused the fourth.
By the time you started the fifth, you were drunk, and Holly had gone into hiding somewhere, letting you sit closer to Yoongi on the couch. Luckily enough for you, you could stand your alcohol pretty well, and you forced a mask on your features so Yoongi couldn’t tell just how inebriated you were.
Not that he was faring any better. Yoongi had a red flush to his cheeks, and he had run his hand in his hair earlier in a way that had let it ruffled. It made him look good, and you tilted your head to the side as you listened to him tell you about his recent concerts in Vegas.
“It’s funny,” you sighed as he fell silent to drink from his glass. “While you were having shows in Vegas I was busking in Hongdae.”
He swallowed the oaky alcohol, licking his lips dry from the drops that had lingered on them. “I saw videos of you busking.”
Your eyes widened, and you let out a small chuckle. “Please save me the embarrassment.”
He laughed, slightly shaking his head. As if the thought of you being embarrassing was the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life.
“Don’t be embarrassed, I’ve been there too.”
An eternity ago, maybe. But the condo around you looked nothing like someone that used to be a busker. “You’ve had far more success than I’ve ever had,” you said, voice low.
His eyes connected with yours, and for a moment all there was was the synchronized beating of your hearts. He was the one to break the contact, and it almost felt as if you were going to fall forward from the rupture.
“You’ll get your success too,” he whispered. “Your music is amazing.”
You blushed, but the flush from the alcohol did a good job at hiding it. “I do hope so.”
A smile played on his lips as he swirled the whiskey in his glass. He played with the rim of the glass, almost pensively. “Army will love your music.”
“Thank you,” you murmured. “For giving me this opportunity.”
“You deserve it.”
His gaze moved back to yours. Yoongi had pretty eyes, deep eyes that told tales of suffering and healing. He had gone through a lot, to get where he was now. From the interviews you had listened to, you actually had a similar past to his. And you felt understood, as he gazed at you. With a softness to his eyes you had never really seen anywhere else.
Min Yoongi had experienced the worst this world has to offer, but he had also experienced the best. You could only hope your turn would come someday.
You took a sip, holding his gaze for a moment, before cowering away. “You know,” you started. And you didn’t really know what to say. Only thought he might understand. “It was my birthday, today.”
He straightened, surprise moving on his drunken features. “Was it?”
You nodded.
“Happy birthday,” he said, with a grave voice.
You shifted a little closer to him, only because he was looking at you with too much intensity for you to resist. The air turned warm, hot, filled with expectancy.
“Thank you.” You wet your lips, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Thank you for letting me record it.”
“I hope it helped.”
Another nod of your head, as you took yet another sip of the whiskey. This time mostly because the feeling inside of you needed to be ignored. To be avoided at all costs.
Too bad alcohol kills the inhibition, right?
You couldn’t even tell who did the first move. All you knew was that your glass was snatched from your hands, put down on the coffee table and then you were tasting the alcohol on Yoongi’s lips. The kiss was ravaging, taking your loneliness and burning it down, until all you could feel was Yoongi’s body under your hungry hands.
His own hands were all over you too. On your back, on the nape of your neck, in your hair. One large hand sneaked to the front until it had wrapped around your breast, and you moaned in his mouth. You grabbed a handful of his hair and sucked on his bottom lip as he pulled you closer.
You climbed on his lap, and you held yourself on his shoulders as your mouth found his again, kissing him with no restraint, no inhibition. Min Yoongi was a damn good kisser. It made you ache with want, as you imagined the other things his wicked tongue could do…
The hand on your breast hadn’t really moved since it had found it, so you put one of yours above it, pushing it harder. Searching for more pressure, more friction, anything that would make you forget the loneliness of the day.
Maybe Yoongi was trying to forget something too. You didn’t really care. It wasn’t like your brain could think past this moment or the next. All you were focused on was the now, and the bulge you were currently perched on.
You grinded your hips, probably a little too hard, and Yoongi grunted, pulling you closer, grabbing your hips until he could hold you in place. Yet he didn’t resist as you rocked your hips again, and the hold he had on your hips only turned you on even more.
You moved from his mouth to his neck, trailing wet kisses down until the collar of his shirt, and then up to his ear. He threw his head back to rest it on the couch, exposing the pretty column of his neck. You sucked on his Adam’s apple next, before finding his lips for yet another heated kiss.
As you kissed, tongues entwined, your hands moved down his chest, searching for the hem of his shirt. You pulled away from him just long enough to rid him of the piece of clothing, and you didn’t even look back to see where you had dropped it. You were too busy crashing your mouth on his again, chasing the remnants of the whiskey. He kissed you back with the same intensity, his large hands still holding your hips, though he let you have control of your movements.
The thought he was letting you do whatever you wanted made your blood sing, and you pulled away to kneel between his legs. He was breathing heavily as his eyes opened, meeting your gaze while you were working on his belt. You struggled with it for a bit, and he offered a helping hand as you moved to caress the length of him through his jeans. He instinctively bucked his hips, and you put your face down on his thigh as he finished unbuckling his belt.
You looked up at him innocently, before begrudgingly lifting your head so you could take off his pants. He pushed up from the couch just enough for the jeans to move under his ass, and soon enough all that was left between you and him was the white fabric of his boxer briefs. You barely hesitated before kissing the hardening length, and his hands clenched into fists on each side of him. It made you feel wicked, and you replaced your lips with your teeth, though you didn’t bite down.
Your goal wasn’t to hurt him after all. You just wanted to see how far Min Yoongi would go before begging you to suck his dick. So you teased him, teased the sensitive cock that was growing harder from all your ministrations. But you never gave in, never pulled the underwear down.
Yoongi breathed out an annoyed breath, and you smirked up at him. “Is there something that you want?”
His mouth fell open, and he looked startled that you asked, as if it wasn’t already clear what he wanted.
You landed another kiss on the tip of his dick, licking at the wet spot where his precum had leaked through the fabric. “Don’t you want something?”
He nodded.
“You’ll have to tell me with words,” you purred, and the smirk on your lips turned devilish as you pulled his underwear down, just enough for his cock to rest free on his stomach. You waited for him to say something, tutting as he just remained silent, with that same widened gaze as before. “Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Suck my dick,” he said with a small voice.
You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t there something missing?”
He almost looked scared for a moment. Intimidated for sure. Even if he was the big name between the two of you, you currently had him wrapped around your finger.
“Please?” he tried.
“Good boy.”
You finally gave in to your desires and his, eyes dropping to the dick in front of you. As everything that came with Yoongi, his cock was pretty. Large enough that you knew it’d be a stretch, with a pretty tip that shone red. A bead of precum appeared on the slit, and you immediately leaned in, licking it.
Yoongi hissed, and from the corner of your eyes you could see his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.
“You can touch me, you know,” you told him, grabbing one of his hands.
You meant to put it in your hair, but instead Yoongi grabbed a hold of your hand, his long fingers keeping you from moving.
Well, this was a start. You didn’t usually hold hands when you were sucking someone’s dick, but if that was what he wanted, then you were happy to oblige.
You got to work, licking a long stripe from the base of his dick up to the head, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive part before letting your lips close around it. You sucked on it, resting your tongue flat against the length of him before you went down, slowly, taking in as much of him as you could. You stopped when he hit the back of your throat, and he grunted once again. His free hand flew to your hair, pulling it to the side so he could look at you.
You moved back up, playing with his frenulum as he was almost out before going down again, quicker this time.
Yoongi never forced you to suck his dick. Only hissed and grunted, as you worked on him, his dick hardening in your mouth with every bob of your head. He tasted good, and you started going faster, just to hear more of the pretty sounds he let out when he hit the back of your throat.
You moaned around him, testing the waters to see if he liked that. Most guys usually did, and Yoongi wasn’t any different. He met your gaze, and he looked spent for a moment, a panting mess under the ministrations of your mouth.
He licked his lips as you hollowed your cheeks, drawing circles on his dick before you pulled out. You sat back on your heels, jerking him off quickly as you met his gaze.
“I want to sit on your face.”
If he was surprised, he gave you no indications of it. Only let go of your hand so he could lie down on the couch. You let out a small laugh, cocking your head to the side.
“You’ll have to undress me first.”
“Right,” he muttered, and he sat up quickly, hands reaching for you.
You couldn’t resist moving closer until you could press your lips on his. He wasn’t expecting it, and it took him a few seconds before he was kissing you back with the same fervor you had applied to his dick. Which was a lot, and you moaned in his mouth as his tongue found yours. You let him have dominance this time, just because his hands were undressing you, unbuttoning your pants and fighting to get them down your legs.
You pulled away from the kiss so you could stand up, and a second later your pants were pooling around your ankles. You weren’t wearing particularly attractive panties, so you took them off yourself, and the piece of clothing met your pants on the ground a second before you were stepping out of the pile.
You took off your shirt yourself as you were climbing on his lap again, and you grinded on his dick once before motioning to the couch. “Lay down.”
He wet his lips, nodding a single time before he started moving. You stood just long enough for him to be able to lay down, and then you were already climbing back on top of him, legs on each side of his face. He grabbed your thighs as you lowered yourself on him, and the first lap of his tongue on you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You hadn’t been wrong. Yoongi knew how to use that wicked tongue of his. Dipping it deep inside of you to get a taste, before focusing on your clit. Torturing it with a light pressure, until you grinded into his face to seek for more. He got the message then and he flattened his tongue, pressing into you harder, lapping you in time with the grinding of your hips.
Unfortunately for you, you had never really been able to come when you were drunk. No matter how hard you chased the high, it always evaded you. Yoongi was by far the best you had had in a while. Or it was just the fact he was Min Yoongi, and he was pliant to all your wishes. Listening to you when you told him to press circles on your clit, obeying when you suggested sucking instead.
He really was wrapped around your finger, wasn’t he?
“Fuck, you’re so good,” you praised him, the sentence finishing in a moan. It only made him work harder, and your legs were shaking by the time you spoke again. “Do you have condoms?”
He couldn’t reply. Not when you were riding his face like that. So you reluctantly moved down his body, and he gulped in air as you sat back on his dick.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
You let out an unexpected laugh, and a smile appeared on his lips. It disappeared as soon as you crashed your mouth on his, and he grabbed your face to kiss you deeply. His chin was wet from your juice, but you didn’t care. You tasted all of yourself on him, licking him clean until you were satisfied.
When you sat back on him, he had a dazed expression on his features. His hair was a mess all around his head, and you let out another small laugh as you bent, just enough for your hands to reach the strands, taming them gently.
His eyes had gone dark when you straightened again. You wondered if what you had done was wrong, but you didn’t want to know. So you moved your hips, circling on his dick, and he hissed again.
“Do you have condoms?” you repeated the question.
His hands rested on your thighs, caressing them up and down as he said, “In my bedroom”.
You grinded again. “As much as I’d like for you to fuck me raw, we should get a condom.” You got up, albeit reluctantly, and you offered him a hand.
The perspective that he was about to fuck you probably chased whatever darkness had invaded him, because he grabbed your hand as he stood, before bending down to take his whiskey glass too. He chugged it, and you only had time to take a hold of yours before he was pulling you behind him.
You drank small sips of your glass as you followed Yoongi, eyes falling to his ass. It was pretty, and you were once again struck with how everything was pretty when it came to Min Yoongi. For all the rough edges of his professional personality, Yoongi was pretty, with softness behind the mask.
And you could glimpse at the softness, as he pulled you behind him, uncaring that you were both naked halfway up his staircase. His thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly, and you held his hand a little tighter.
It did feel less lonely, all of a sudden.
Min Yoongi’s bedroom was dark. Walls painted in a dark shade of grey, comforter ink black. The only light thing in his room was the canvas over the headboard of his bed. A painting, abstract at that, in shades of white and beige that seemed like a beacon in the darkness of the wall. The furniture in the room was black too, and the tiled ceramic floor completed the décor in its own shade of grey, almost matching the paint on the wall.
The room was tidy, so tidy you weren’t even sure anyone lived here. But then Yoongi let go of your hand, carelessly walking to a night table, and his gaze slid to you as you stopped at the entrance.
You cocked your head to the side, downing the rest of your glass with your eyes still holding on to his gaze. His chest moved quickly, up and down, as if he was out of breath. And maybe he was, and the predatory look you set on him made adrenaline run through his blood. He wet his lips, and his gaze dropped, before sliding to his bedside table.
He fished a condom out of it, and he was about to tear the package open when you talked.
“Let me do it.”
He froze, and then a smirk moved on his lips. It made everything in you sing with burning lust, and you crossed the distance between the two of you. You dropped your glass on the bedside table, before biting in your bottom lip as you turned to face him. He held out the package for you to take, and you took it from his long fingers. You had expected his hand to drop at his side, but he instead moved it between the two of you, cupping your breast through the bralette you were wearing.
You gulped, instinctively stepping closer to press his hand harder against you, just the way you liked it. He understood, and his other hand cupped your other breast. He massaged them, hard, pinching your nipples through the fabric of the bralette. The friction of the fabric on the sensitive buds had stars forming on the periphery of your vision, and you let out a moan as you tore the package of the condom open, fishing the actual condom out with eager fingers.
You didn’t have time to reach down to his dick before Yoongi moved on his knees. He sucked on the skin of your thigh, hard, leaving a purple bruise behind that he soothed with a kiss.
“Let me just eat you out more, mmh?”
You didn’t have the ability to say no, so you sat on his bed and pulled his head closer to your heat, other hand clutching the condom so it wouldn’t fall on the comforter.
Yoongi’s tongue truly was skilled. And it moved fast on your clit. You could see the mirage of an orgasm on the horizon, but the alcohol in your blood kept it away, frustratingly so. Even when Yoongi slid two fingers inside of you, curling them to hit a sweet spot inside of you. It felt divine, and you moaned for him, telling him just how good he was. It made him work harder, and he eventually whined, resting his head on your thigh to look at you.
“I want to feel you on my dick,” he said, and he sounded almost shy. As if voicing his desires was forbidden.
You bit your lip again, letting out a ragged breath as your heart beat wildly in your chest, almost drowning out his words. “Then get on the bed.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly laid down next to you, stroking his dick as you kneeled next to him. You swatted the hand away, and he smirked again as you started rolling the condom down his length. You jerked him off a couple of times when you were done, before climbing on his lap.
He watched you carefully. As if he was only then realizing what was happening. He still let you position him at your entrance, and you sunk down, just enough for his tip to start parting your folds.
“Can I?” you asked, stopping there.
He wet his lips. “Please.”
It was your turn to smirk wickedly, as you sunk down on him until most of him was inside of you. It stretched, but he had prepared you so well he slid right in, and you moaned as he bottomed out.
“You’re big,” you praised him. “What a good fucking boy.”
His hands flew to your hips, fingers digging in the supple skin. “You say that as if you’re not fucking wet for me.”
Oh. Min Yoongi did have a dominant bone in him.
“Aish,” you moaned. “You’re going to fuck me, mmh?”
He sat up a little, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you down with him. “If you ask so nicely.”
You were surprised by the small laugh that fell from your mouth, but it quickly died as Yoongi started jackhammering his hips against yours, his dick fucking into your walls so deliciously, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He held you tight against him as he fucked you, and your dominant side returned as he let out a moan in your ear.
Your hand snaked between your bodies, until it was wrapped around his throat, finding the two sides of it. You cut the blood supply to his brain, fingers digging in the arteries, and he let out a louder moan this time, something that somehow resembled your name. Still he didn’t slow down, and you sucked on the side of his jaw, mouth needing to do something to muffle the pleasured sounds that kept tumbling from it.
You released your grip on Yoongi’s throat after a time, and you moved until you could catch his lips for a quick yet languid kiss. You swallowed the grunts he let out before sitting up on him. He only then slowed the roll of his hips, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours.
“Let me fuck myself on you a little,” you said, head cocked to the side. “I want to make you feel good.”
“Please.”
You didn’t need more to start moving, slowly, in a dance that had to be frustrating to him after the relentless pace he had set. Yet it felt heavenly, stretching all of you wide open, the drag of his dick along your velvet walls making you reach for something to hold on to. It turned out to be your breasts, and your hands slipped under the bralette as you palmed yourself.
“So fucking good,” you breathed, and Yoongi’s large hands settled on your hips again, guiding you on him.
Making you roll your hips more, impaling you on him until he was fully in.
“I think I could fuck you all night,” he declared, and he seemed astonished. As if he hadn’t expected the ordeal to feel this good. And it did feel good, far more than you had ever thought it could.
“Hope you have good stamina then,” you said, half teasing, but the lustful look adorning his gaze told you that he just might fuck you all night.
“For you?” He wet his lips, moaning as you circled your hips in just the right way. “Fuck, I could come like this.”
Surprisingly enough, he didn’t let you continue. He stilled your hips, before sitting up again. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and the following moment disappeared in your mind, dizziness taking the forefront of the scene as Yoongi spun you until you were lying down, with him on top of you.
It took him a few seconds to realize he might have moved you too quickly, but he soon said, “Are you okay?”
You huffed out a breath, eyes fluttering closed. “That was dizzying.”
He chuckled, and he pushed back inside of you. You hadn’t felt him fall out, but you sure as hell felt him as he slowly slid in, all the way.
“I wanted to see what you look like under me.”
You opened your eyes, and you were relieved to see the world was not turning as much anymore. “Like the sight?” you teased, and your hand shot between you to press circles on your clit, lazily.
“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he was thrusting into you again, fast and hard.
You cried out a delighted moan and you timed your ministrations on your clit with his movements, until everything seemed to blend in together.
Yoongi fucked you for a while. He did have good stamina, and the more you praised him the more he kept going, with sweat dripping from his forehead, wetting locks of his hair. He looked sinfully good, the sounds he made a melody you had never imagined you’d hear, one that mixed with your own moans until it was a song, of passion and desire and everything in between.
You couldn’t quite tell how long it lasted. Only that Yoongi’s movement grew sloppier, his breathing ragged as he bent down to hide his face in your neck. He sucked a spot on your skin, and your hand found the nape of his neck to hold him in place.
“I think we’re too drunk,” you murmured as Yoongi slid in and out, slowly, but never fully stopping.
“You feel so good.”
You chuckled, and your fingers drew circles on his scalp for a few seconds before you replied, “We won’t come”.
Yoongi persisted for a time, dragging his length inside of you until you started digging your nails in the skin of his back. “Right.” He thrusted in twice more, before stopping all the way in, his dick fully impaling you. “You just feel so good.”
You stayed like that for a time, unmoving, your breaths in sync as your hearts slowly returned to a normal rhythm. Yoongi’s dick had gone soft by the time he pulled out, yet he remained on top of you, breathing in your scent.
“I should go,” you said after what felt like an eternity. Your eyelids were drooping, and you held him close to you as you spoke the words.
“Stay for the night,” Yoongi murmured, his lips moving against your neck. His voice was deep, scratchy, and it made you want to be closer to him, until you were blended with his soul.
He was comfort. For a reason unknown, Min Yoongi was comfort personified, and you really didn’t want to go. Even if you were slowly coming down from the buzz of alcohol. You sighed, before pushing him to the side.
“You’re crushing me,” you admitted, and he let out a small chuckle, before rolling to the side.
He settled next to you, an arm draped around your stomach, face nuzzled into your neck. His proximity felt strange. For someone that usually seemed closed off, Min Yoongi appeared to have let you in… tonight.
Was it the song, or the fact that you had been alone on your birthday? Had he found pity in you, and tried to gift you with his own form of comfort? It made you feel pathetic, but his steady breathing as he fell asleep calmed you down, melted your worries away, until sleep found you in its hold too.
Yoongi didn’t let go of you while he slept.
*****
Dawn was grey. Colourless, as if the sun was the source of all colours in this world. As if its absence kept the colours at bay, changed them into shades of black and grey that melted together in a strange picture. It was unfamiliar, foreign, as if you weren’t supposed to be awake at this hour.
It took you a moment to realize the greyness wasn’t from dawn, but from the colour on the walls. A moment longer for the pounding in your head to awaken, reminding you of the alcohol you had ingested the night before.
You weren’t at home. In fact, you were lying on a mattress far more comfortable than anything you could ever own, in a luxurious yet sparsely decorated room that was far from your own.
The comforter had slipped from your body as you slept, and you shivered from the chill air. A breeze was playing in the curtains by the window, and it smelled of rain, though the panes of the window were still dry. You turned your head to the side, afraid of the sight that would come.
Min Yoongi looked like a prince, lying next to you. His hair formed a crown around his head where it rested on the pillow, and his soft features looked regal in the morning light. His mouth was slightly opened, and little snores came out of him each time he exhaled.
His hand had fallen from your stomach at some point in the night. It rested next to you now, fingers reaching towards you but not really touching. As if he had never meant to let go in the first place. Still, you were glad he had.
Because with the morning, reality rushed back in.
It ceased you, grabbed your heart and squeezed it in your chest as you watched him sleep for a moment longer. Just because he was peaceful, and you wished to revel in the peace. Refused to let reality crush this moment, not before you had it committed to memory, locking it up in a safe corner of your heart.
But when it was locked up, you took the key and threw it away, never to be found again.
You blinked the grogginess away, eyes searching around you for your clothes. It took you a few seconds to remember you had discarded all of the fabric downstairs last night, except your bralette, and you winced at the thought that you would have to go down there naked to get dressed again.
You sat up, shivering once again in the chill air, goosebumps raising on your flesh until your skin looked pricked by it. You glanced at Yoongi before getting up. The song came back to your mind – the gut-wrenching lyrics screaming of loneliness, of never finding solace in people’s company, of seeking for a family that never comes.
Loneliness felt worse in the grey light of dawn. And right on cue, rain started splattering on the window, drowning out the sounds of Yoongi sleeping, and the rustle of the sheets as you slipped out of the bed.
The ceramic floor was warm under your feet, and you tiptoed your way to the door. Not daring to look back, barely even daring to breathe. You didn’t want Yoongi to wake up, not when you were about to leave without saying goodbye.
For some reason, you thought he might understand. You thought Yoongi could understand that loneliness sometimes needed to be dealt with alone. No matter how salvaging last night had been for the lone heart in your chest, the morning called for something else. For reality to settle back in. What had happened last night was unprofessional, inherently so, and it filled you with dread.
Maybe that was the reason you were fleeing after all.
You reached the door, hand settling on the knob. You couldn’t resist looking back then, as if you just needed to make sure that this moment had been real. Yoongi’s hands had moved a little while you were walking away, fingers reaching for your warmth. A frown moved on his features as he didn’t find it, but they relaxed as he exhaled loudly.
He was still sound asleep, and infinitely peaceful. You hoped nothing would ever break his peace.
You slipped out of the bedroom, shutting the door soundlessly behind you before walking down to the living room, where you put on your clothes. You had half a thought of leaving a note behind, to explain why you hadn’t stayed, but you didn’t know where Yoongi might have paper in his condo, and you didn’t want to linger around long enough for him to wake up.
You were putting on your shoes when he appeared at the top of the stairs, draped in a white robe to keep the cold at bay. His features were back in the same icy mask he had sported at the beginning of the night yesterday, and you gulped as he stared you down.
“You’re leaving early,” he stated as he leaned against the wall, folding his arms on his chest.
His hair was a mess from last night – long gone was the crown you had woken up to see. He looked unkempt, and there was a line from his pillow on his face. It made him look human, terribly so, and you felt bad for wanting to leave.
“I don’t think I belong here,” you admitted.
With a small voice, as small as the fear inside of you. Because yes, you were lonely. But being here in this too big condo with someone that was just supposed to be a work collaborator… it made you feel out of place.
A line appeared between Yoongi’s brows, and he pushed up from the wall to start walking down the stairs. “I invited you to sleep over, you have all the rights to be here.”
You wet your lips, chasing the frustration of not being understood away. “I mean, we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” You watched as Yoongi finished walking down the stairs, sitting on the very last step. “It was fun, I won’t deny it, but it was unprofessional.”
He leaned against the wall again, looking at you with a gaze that made you feel naked, as if he was seeing right through your soul. You turned your head away, wanting to flee but not having the courage to do so when his eyes were on you. As if, if you stayed unmoving, maybe the whole situation would disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t see you anymore, the way that he was seeing you now.
“It was,” he agreed, to your surprise. “I’m not big on regrets though, I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.”
“I-” you caught yourself before you added more.
I what? I don’t regret it? I’m not big on regrets either? Why then did this morning taste awfully like regret?
Yoongi just held your gaze, not prodding but visibly expecting you to continue. Maybe you owed him as much.
“I’m just afraid it will ruin our professional relationship,” you admitted.
His gaze dropped to the floor. “I thought so. I can always push back releasing the song if you prefer.”
Your eyes widened, right as your heart stopped in your chest. Did he know how much you needed the money? Did he know that you were on the verge of giving up on your dreams because you couldn’t afford your apartment?
“I don’t know,” you said, and it was true. You didn’t know if you wanted to risk not releasing the song, but you didn’t know if you wanted to keep working with Yoongi in the immediate future either.
You needed to get rid of the loneliness alone after all.
“Then think about it,” Yoongi suggested. “I can always pay for all the work that you did, and if you feel like releasing it some day you just let me know.”
You pursed your lips. It was a good idea. A decent suggestion, yet it felt wrong. Because releasing the song was certain to open up the world to you. Or so you had been hoping. Could you give up on that dream?
“I will,” you said. “I’ll think about it, and I’ll let you know.”
Yoongi nodded, before stretching his legs in front of him. “Can we talk before you leave though?”
You didn’t know what he wanted to talk about. Only knew that the longer you were to stay here, the more the loneliness was going to drown you.
“What is there to talk about?”
His features turned grave. You were struck that he looked as if he was going to announce the end of the world, as if the Earth was about to stop turning and you’d all crash into a wall at eighty miles per hour.
“I have to admit something,” he said. His eyes found the floor again, though he had been avoiding your gaze for a moment now. “I have someone in my life.”
A lump formed in your throat. A disgusting, guilty lump that tasted like bile. “You cheated on someone with me?”
He slowly shook his head no. “We’re on a break. I just thought you deserved to know.”
The loneliness was real. It was a feeling you knew all too well, in all of its labyrinths and corners. It wove its way in every crevice of your soul, and God knew your soul was filled with crevices. With cracks, from all the times you had needed to glue yourself back together.
“Oh.”
It was all you could voice as the enormity of his revelation dawned on you. Was that why he had looked upset yesterday? Had he tried to forget his own loneliness by drowning in you?
Had it worked?
“I’m sorry.”
Min Yoongi did look apologetic, but you found him a coward. A coward for avoiding your gaze like he was right now, for looking devastated sitting there on the stairs. And maybe he truly was devastated, if he was on a break with the person that he loved.
Why had you come when you were at your most vulnerable?
“Thank you for your honesty,” you said, voice blanched with the horror in you. Because you were horrified, to think you had slept with a man that belonged to another. Though the pounding in your head reminded you that it was alcohol that had caused the ordeal, that it wasn’t you, and you clung to that thought.
Because if your inhibitions hadn’t been lowered, you would have never slept with Min Yoongi.
He remained silent for a little eternity, and then somewhere in himself he found the courage to look at you again. You almost wished he hadn’t.
“Do you want me to send you the song today, still?”
It was a fair question. One that could bring you back in the charted territory of your professional relationship. It felt safer, and you let out a shaky breath to calm the pit in your chest.
The pit had always been there, you reckoned. It just was harder to ignore on this dreadful dawn.
“Sure,” you answered, though you had no intention to listen to it.
No, it was probably better to put this all in the past. To forget the comfort Yoongi had brought to you last night. You almost wished you had been able to run before he’d woken up, but you weren’t a coward. This conversation would have been needed at some point.
“Is there something you want to say?” Yoongi enquired, gently. With a voice that sounded far older than he was, far wiser than he had to be.
“I don’t know.” You parted your lips as you wanted to continue speaking, but nothing came out. So you shut your mouth, rocking back and forth on your heels as anxiety spiked through you, replacing the initial horror. “I am sorry it happened.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. As I told you, I don’t do regrets anymore.”
You would have liked to be able to tell if he was lying, but Min Yoongi was an unreadable book when he wanted to be.
“I hope you fix your relationship,” you said. You really did, if only to forget last night had ever happened. He remained silent, lips stretched in a tight smile. “I…” you trailed off, and it was your turn to lower your gaze to the floor. “I appreciated last night, though.”
He wet his lips. “I won’t lie to you. I appreciated it too.”
“But life is life, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question, one he didn’t reply to. “I guess I’ll go.”
He sighed, loud enough for you to hear. It wasn’t an annoyed sigh. No, it sounded as if he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.
So much for not regretting, uh?
“I’ll send you the song,” he reiterated. “Please take care of yourself.”
It made a drop of anger fall in the ocean of loneliness you were drowning in. Because you had shown him the darkness in you last night, and he had hidden the truth from you. And maybe he didn’t even owe it to you, you just wished he had said something last night, before it was too late.
Before your body knew that it was molded to fit his perfectly.
“Will do,” you replied curtly.
You turned away from him then, hoping he couldn’t see the hurt in your eyes. You didn’t even know if you were allowed to be hurt. Didn’t even know if you were actually hurt, or if you just needed to be alone.
In all the misery that it brought you, loneliness was your comfort zone.
*****
The days had stretched into eternity, busking keeping your mind from rushing back to the events you had partaken in with Min Yoongi. Minhyuk had been appalled, when you had told him that the song would likely never be released. You had told him enough about what had happened with Yoongi, without ever really confirming that you had slept together, yet Minhyuk hadn’t let it go.
He only had when you had received the money Min Yoongi had promised to pay, earlier this afternoon. It was an astronomical sum for someone who got by with busking. As your contract with Minhyuk asked for, you had shared half the sum with him, and still it left you with far more money than you had ever owned.
Min Yoongi hadn’t offered an explanation as to why he had paid you so much money. And you hadn’t asked for one yet, choosing to go to Hongdae to change your mind instead. To remind you that busking was who you were, even if you hadn’t rented an area for tonight.
No, tonight you would just walk around and watch people live their lives. Happy, smiling, unaware of the abyss you felt like you were drowning in.
Seeing Min Yoongi on your birthday had been a mistake. The anger had turned into something else, something far more intimidating. Disgust with yourself, with your acts and your choices. Regret that you hadn’t stopped when you should have, and that he hadn’t said anything before it was too late.
You wondered if he was back with the person that owned his heart. If you leaving like that had pushed him back in their arms, if their relationship had found grounds to work again.
You were jealous. But also hurt… because Yoongi had been comfort. You wished you had told him, wish he had known what it had meant for you to be with him on your birthday like that. When you laid awake at night, sleep evading you, you wondered if it would have made a difference.
Would Min Yoongi have let you go on that dreadful dawn if you had told him?
You couldn’t know. But then again, sometimes, during those same sleepless nights, you wondered if it was too late. If there was a chance you could tell him. If he had chosen not to get back with his partner.
If he too sometimes laid awake at night thinking about your body against his.
Loneliness was making you go crazy inside.
You sighed, taking a deep breath of the fresh evening air. Hongdae was lively. Filled with laughter and chatter. And with your own dark cloud, that seemed to loom over you wherever you went now.
You were at a low point in life. You were aware of it. It was hard to see the good in things when you had turned your back on the little sense of company you had been able to find in Yoongi. Though he hadn’t really been company, no? Just a brief connection in a sea of temporary people.
Only Minhyuk stayed around, and he only did because he worked for you.
But the money… The money was more than you had ever thought you’d have. It made you wonder, was that what celebrities made when they worked together? Why such astronomical sums for people that didn’t even need money in the first place?
Or maybe Yoongi had known that you were struggling with money. Maybe that was his way of apologizing. You weren’t prideful enough to hate him for it. As a matter of fact, you had been debating calling him to thank him, or even going to his place. Maybe that was why you were in Hongdae after all.
Long walks to clear your mind usually always worked, didn’t they?
A couple in front of you burst out laughing, and the guy grabbed his girlfriend’s hand, pulling her in a hug. Public displays of affection were rare in Korea, but Hongdae held a different crowd. A looser one, that didn’t live up to the expectations of elders. It was a crowd you found you rather enjoyed, especially as you busked and they enjoyed your music.
You brought happiness to their lives, didn’t you? Why then was happiness evading you?
You scoffed, and the guy threw you a glance. Your eyes dipped to the floor, and you almost winced in embarrassment. You thought about telling him that you weren’t scoffing because of him, but it would have been useless, wouldn’t it?
His attention was already back on his girlfriend, as if he was but the mere moon and she the Earth. It was cute. It really was, in a heart-wrenching kind of way.
So much for dealing with loneliness alone, right?
You wanted to talk to Yoongi. Wanted to thank him, wanted to let him know he had been the first to make you feel something in a long time. Hell, you hadn’t had sex in over a year before him.
Could you just go and talk to him? Could you tell him that you had been too shaken that morning, and that you hadn’t been able to tell him the thoughts in your skull? Your imprisoned mind, clustered in a dark corner of your head, had been subdued to your loneliness.
Surely he would understand.
A group of friends walked past you, and their joy felt contagious. You wanted to cling to the feeling of your lips stretching into a smile, wanted to use the warmth they carried themselves with to forget the cold in you.
Being a lyricist made you far too dramatic for your own good, didn’t it? Because you could see around yourself, people that were alone too. Walking with their hands in their pockets, with light in their eyes as they watched the scene around you. It didn’t have to be a sad scene. You didn’t have to cling to the sadness.
It didn’t matter that it was your comfort zone. If you ever wanted to get better, you had to stop using it as a shield. Had to shrug the coat off, and step into the summer warmth, leaving the winter cold behind.
Only, it was still cold at this time of the year.
You thought about Minhyuk. Minhyuk, who had always believed in you. Who trusted that you would make it someday, that he just had to encourage you in the process. Minhyuk, who had fallen in love with one of his friends, and had a beautiful love story to call his now.
There was happiness in this world. And you weren’t selfish enough to believe you didn’t deserve happiness. It was just hard to find it when your family had forgotten about you, when you woke up to learn he belonged to another.
You didn’t have feelings for Min Yoongi. At least you tried to convince yourself of it. You didn’t really know what you felt. Only that what had happened on your birthday had to be caused by more than just the alcohol. Because it hadn’t been your first time being vulnerable and drunk in a man’s company. It had been your first time jumping on that man though.
You had enjoyed working with him. Had found his work ethic inspiring, and had felt as if your soul was singing whenever you worked on music together. There was something in Min Yoongi that resonated in you, as if his existence triggered a harmonious frequency inside of you. A terribly unprofessional harmonious frequency, yet you hadn’t found friction to slow it down. Only had your treacherous thoughts and sleepless nights.
Maybe talking to him would release you. Would free the mind that was clustered in your skull, would let it fly into the sky again, to soar above clouds and mountains and valleys.
You probably needed it. Needed to say thank you for the money, and tell him you would find the strength to listen to the song someday. Just not when you were already so vulnerable.
And a hidden, dark corner of your heart also wanted to tell him how you had felt that night. Wanted to tell him he was comfort personified, and that you were thankful you had had the chance to experience it, even if it had been but a mere, fleeting moment in your life.
A romantic through and through, weren’t you?
Or maybe it was just Hongdae’s air, and the ambiance it held. Of happiness, that you could find if only you reached out far enough.
And life was about risk, wasn’t it? If you never talked to Min Yoongi, never told him the thoughts in your imprisoned mind, then you would be stuck with them for the rest of your life. Stuck with their decaying form, until they turned your memory into a prison in and of itself too.
You didn’t want the memory of Min Yoongi to turn into decay. Wanted to remember the good parts of it and let go of the bad. He was the one saying he didn’t do regrets anymore, wasn’t he?
Maybe you didn’t have to regret this either. But for that, you needed to tell him the feelings in your mind.
You sighed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Long walks really did wonders to you, didn’t they?
You should have left your apartment before.
Instead of beating yourself up for it, you took a few steadying breaths, before heading straight to the nearest subway station. It wasn’t particularly late, and by chance you’d get to his place before the hour would be indecent.
It wasn’t like night hours were indecent to Min Yoongi. He was a night owl, much like you were too. Him letting you in his condo the last time at such a late hour was proof enough of it.
It was in that mindset that you made your way to his condo, with no gifts this time. Considering where the last time had led you, you didn’t want to risk offering him anything. You just wanted to talk. To tell him thank you for that night. For making you realize that you weren’t quite alone in this big wide universe.
This time, Min Yoongi wasn’t outside when you arrived. It occurred to you that there was a possibility he wasn’t even home, but then again he had always come off to you as the kind of person that usually stayed in most of the time. So you walked into the building, nodding your head curtly at the security.
It was the same person you had seen the two other times you were here, and you had become familiar enough to them so that they’d let you pass without asking a question. You were glad for it – you didn’t know what you would have told them anyway. You had no business being here, belonged to an entire other world.
Still, you found yourself on Min Yoongi’s door mat. Fist hovering in front of the door, not daring to knock or ring the bell. You stayed there for a good five minutes, trying to assemble enough courage to make a move, but all you could do was stare.
It seemed staring was enough, because five minutes later, after you rang the bell, the door turned on its hinges, and Min Yoongi appeared.
His gaze widened, quite at the same time as yours did. Blood flushed your cheeks, and you let your hand fall at your side.
“Seonbaenim,” you greeted him, an echo of your greeting the last time you had seen him. Your lips stretched into an easy smile, and you wondered if your heart picking up its rate in your chest was a normal physiological response to the presence of Min Yoongi.
Maybe it was.
Yoongi didn’t move. In fact, he looked as if he was holding his breath, and as if all colour had leached from his features.
You understood why when a small figure appeared behind him, and all colour leached from your features next.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, and her eyes slid to you. “Who’s that?”
Your brain went empty. Entirely empty. There was the sound of ringing, but everything else was distant, as your vision blurred on the edges, until all there was was a tunnel leading right to Min Yoongi’s pretty features.
The moment stretched into infinity, and your heart rocked against your ribcage three times before Yoongi spoke. You didn’t hear his voice, only saw the lips you had been kissing just a couple of weeks ago moving. And then the pretty girl disappeared from view, features casted into a frown, and all that was left was Min Yoongi and you. Him, inside of his home; you, in the hallway.
It felt like two entire different worlds.
“I didn’t know you were going to come,” he said.
Sensations rushed back to you, and your gaze dropped to the floor.
“I…” you trailed off.
“Is it about the song?”
All you could do was nod, as you blanched standing there. And you did blanch, as if all your blood had exited your body. It was dizzying, and oxygen felt foreign in your lungs.
He led you inside. Right to the studio. You could hear the girl talking as you made your way there, likely to the dog from the sounds of it. And then Yoongi shut the door of his studio, and the sounds faded to nothing.
“I’m sorry.”
It was all he said, as you just stood there not knowing where to look. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if it was right for you to be in here.
“Oh,” you let out. You wet your lips – had they been so dry this whole time? “I came to say thank you for the money.”
He watched you carefully for a few beats of silence, before replying, “You deserved it”.
You chuckled. Bitterly, achingly, or somewhere in between. “I’m not sure I’m worth all of that.”
“I paid you the amount of money your work is worth,” he declared simply. He moved in the room, sitting in the chair in front of the desk. “It was the right thing to do.”
You slowly nodded, before glancing over your shoulder. “Is that…”
You didn’t have to finish your sentence for him to understand. He looked apologetic, once your gaze settled on him again.
“It is,” he confirmed.
It had no business hurting as bad as it did, and yet you felt as if your heart was ripped in two. “Oh.”
His hands were folded in his lap, his shoulders hung low. He looked horrified, somehow, as if only then realizing that all that had happened was wrong. Wrong, and the kind of thing one should regret.
“Have you listened to the song?”
You held his gaze for as long as your heart could manage, before letting it drop to the comfort of the rug on the floor. “No. We probably shouldn’t release it.”
You felt out of breath. The breakthrough you had had while in Hongdae was foreign now, as if it had happened to someone else. Loneliness caught up to you, and all you could do was watch the fall as it happened.
“I’ll put it on hold.” He sounded disappointed, and he wasn’t looking at you anymore when your eyes flitted to him.
How had he been comfort? He was all but comfort now, the source of the ever-growing loneliness that was seeping through every inch of you.
“Thank you.”
Another silence. You were drowning. Drowning in the heaviness in you. It was like quick sands – nothing could stop the sinking, the fall. Falling and falling. You had thought you would fall into him, hadn’t wanted to let yourself formulate the thought, but the hope had been there. The hope had been there, and now you were falling away from him.
“Listen,” Yoongi started. He paused, ran a hand through his hair, folded his arms on his chest, let his fingers fall back into his lap. “I am sorry.” He wet his lips, and you found the strength to look at him. He wasn’t looking at you, and it didn’t seem as if he’d ever have the courage to do it. “I don’t want us to be left on bad terms.”
“We are nothing to each other, aren’t we?” you commented, voice sounding strangely high even to your own ears. “It doesn’t really matter.”
“I honestly didn’t think you were going to come back.”
“I never should have been here in the first place.”
His eyes kept at their journey on the rug, as if he could see lines down there, or maybe one of those drawing you traced with numbers. It was hard to know what he could imagine, hard to know the thoughts in his head.
Could he tell you were falling?
“I know,” he said. His voice was tired, exhausted, remorseful. For someone that didn’t want to regret anything, you could tell he was regretting this, far more than you had expected he would. “She came back two days ago.”
So, if you had been there a week ago, the end would have been different? Now, where would you be when the end came? Alone, as always.
“I’m happy for you.” You surprised even yourself at how genuine you sounded. Maybe because it truly was genuine. Min Yoongi deserved to have someone that loved him around. Someone he loved too. After all he had been through, he deserved it.
He said your name. Intimately, not with any formalities he usually reserved for it. It hurt, far more than everything before. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“It’s going to be okay,” you reassured him, even if it sounded false. “It was one night, I’m just a little… shocked.”
You tried to play it cool with a smile, but his eyes were still stubbornly following the lines of his invisible drawing, so he didn’t see it.
“I understand.”
You weren’t sure if he really understood. You didn’t even know what there was to understand. You had slept with Min Yoongi once when you had both been vulnerable, and he had fixed his relationship after. It was just life. You weren’t one to catch feelings easily. He had just been comfort, and it always hurt when comfort was ripped from you, didn’t it?
It was going to pass. Even now, a few minutes later, it was lesser. The initial ache in your heart turning dull, and oxygen returning to your lungs and blood. It didn’t quite feel like drowning anymore, and you could watch him without feeling like your heart was going to stop.
No, you just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened. Blame it all on a fever dream, and move on with your life.
“It was nice to work with you,” you said. Your voice had returned to its normal tone, and you took in a steadying breath. “I’m going to treasure the memory.”
At that he looked at you. “So will I.”
You exchanged a long look. Filled with words unsaid, with possibilities that could have happened had you never left that morning, or had you come back before. Had he been waiting for you? Had he considered not getting back together with her if you were to come first? It was hard to tell, and yet it didn’t make you feel anything. No, the initial shock and hurt really had dwindled away, because you were even able to smile at him, a tight-lipped smile but one nonetheless.
Or maybe your coping mechanism had just come in clutch, pushing all emotions to the deep, dark depths of your heart.
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”
He slowly nodded. “You deserved it. You really did.” He seemed to consider it for a time, before he added, “You are an amazing artist. I’ll be on the lookout for what you release next”.
You chuckled. “We’ll see what I come up with.” You looked around, committing the setting to memory. Committing Min Yoongi to memory, him and his long hair and sad eyes.
“If you ever want to release the song, just let me know,” he said.
You weren’t sure that would ever happen, but if it could ease the remorse in his sad gaze then you would give it to him. “I will, I promise.”
He nodded once more, wetting his lips. “And if you ever need anything, I’m just a call away.”
A call and a world away. Min Yoongi wouldn’t be your comfort. Had probably never been comfort to you, you had just been blinded by the loneliness of your birthday.
“Right back at you,” you said, because it was the civilized thing to say. “I doubt I have anything that you might need though.” It was said like a joke, but it landed in deaf ears, because Yoongi just looked sadder.
“You would be surprised.”
Four words that you hated. That you found yourself to hate for a long time, after you left Min Yoongi’s place that night. Never looking back, not even as you walked outside, each step feeling like another crevice forming, until you were back to that same pathetic lonely self you had been before him.
You were going to need to pick your pieces up yourself, were you?
*****
Present day
Doing interviews still felt foreign. Strange, as if they were meant for someone else than you. Someone that existed a year ago, someone that was just a regular busker.
Not someone that had just sold out an entire concert venue. It still felt unreal, and you always thought you were going to wake up from the dream some day. Thing was, you only woke up to more comments, to more views on your videos.
All thanks to a certain BTS member you had been trying to forget. Three months ago, Min Yoongi had mentioned you in an interview. It had been uncalled for, out of nowhere really. He had been asked what inspired him with his music and he had said fellow artists. When the interviewer had pushed for names, it was yours that Yoongi had given, and Army had immediately jumped on the boat.
Until you were the talk of Korea as the new soloist that everyone needed to know. It was crazy, how your life had changed in just a few months. Now, people recognized you when you walked in the street, fans asked for your pictures. You didn’t know if you liked it, but it was a dream come true.
Your parents had called you, once. You hadn’t picked up, and they hadn’t tried again. You lived in blissful peace now, without the money problems you had had last year, without the fear that one day you would just lose it all. In truth, the fear still existed, but it was more distant. You were a rising star, and for now you didn’t think you had reached the top yet. No, you were still shooting up, and you were willing to work your ass off to make sure you wouldn’t fall back down.
You deserved the success you were having. Had worked blood and sweat to get that success.
You hadn’t talked to Yoongi after. People had suggested collaborations, Armys had posted edits of you (of you?!) next to Min Yoongi all over the Internet. Videos of you busking had gotten millions of views, and Minhyuk was doing his best job to make sure to shut down any hate before it reached you.
You still saw some comments sometimes, but you didn’t really care. You couldn’t be liked by everyone, and that was just life. You had long accepted such a thing.
But yes, doing interviews felt strange. Especially as people tried to desiccate your past, to find every little truth there was to know about you. You were good at keeping most of the truth to yourself, just giving them little snippets of your life here and there to make the fans feel like they knew you.
You were pretty sure none of them knew your loneliness though. Loneliness that was a lot more bearable now that you weren’t struggling with money anymore, come to think of it.
The questions you hated the most were those about Yoongi. And you got a lot of them, especially from male interviewers. They tended to ask questions that were a lot more sexist than their female counterparts, who usually focused on your work instead of on your life. But the male interviewers came with the rest, and even if you had asked Minhyuk to try and filter most of them out, you still had to answer some questions once in a while.
That was how you found yourself on a talk show you had only watched behind the screen of your computer before, sitting across a famous host that had been asking increasingly more personal questions as the hour that you were to spend with him slowly passed.
It was awkward, yet you tried to be your most friendly self, to smile when you were supposed to and to laugh politely whenever he made a joke you personally thought to be degrading. You were relieved when he finally concluded the interview, and you dipped behind the scene as soon as you were allowed, heading straight to the refreshment table.
You were gulping down a water bottle when a familiar figure moved out of the hallway leading to the dressing rooms. Minhyuk sported a toothy grin, and he stopped next to you as you finished the water.
“You were fantastic,” he complimented you. “How can you be so good at this?”
He had asked that same question numerous times already, and you still didn’t have the answer for it. You had always been a huge introvert, yet whenever cameras shone their light on you, you found courage in you to act and pretend to be at your most comfortable.
Only the people that knew you the best could see through the mask, and though Minhyuk knew, he still was amazed that you could just do it like that.
You shrugged, winking at him as you put the water bottle away in a recycling bin. “I don’t know.” You sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the host of the show. He was walking towards you, and you immediately hated the look on his face as he beelined towards you.
He stopped a little too close for comfort, with a placid smile on his lips that felt wrong.
“You’re good at avoiding juicy questions, aren’t you?” It was said like a joke and his eyes even sparkled as he let out a small laugh.
Immediately, you let the camera-adequate you take the lead, and you echoed his laugh. “I want my personal life to stay personal,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.
The host nodded, glancing at Minhyuk as your manager moved next to you. “But seriously, how did Min Yoongi come to know you? I still can’t wrap my head around it.”
You pursed your lips, the perfect picture of indifference, even though Yoongi’s mention still felt a little strange. “Honestly, I don’t know. I am very flattered that he likes my music enough to say he’s inspired by it.”
The host looked at you suspiciously, as if he was trying to read between the lines, between the words you had said to find the truth about you and Min Yoongi.
You didn’t think anyone but you and Yoongi really knew the truth. Even Minhyuk didn’t know everything, and he was your manager.
“When’s the collab going to drop?” the host continued. “Surely you must be working on something.”
You shrugged. “I can’t say we are planning to release something together, unfortunately. We’ve never worked on anything together.” An easily crafted lie, that you had said so many times in the last three months that you almost believed it now.
You had yet to listen to the song you had made together. Had buried the file away in your computer, somewhere you had tried to forget as best as you could. It hadn’t really worked, especially not now that Yoongi was mentioned to you almost daily.
“That’s a shame, I’m pretty sure lots of people would love to see such a collab,” the host said pensively. He then offered you a smile he probably thought was kind, but mostly looked paternalistic. “You should try to get him to collab with you, it’d give you a lot of visibility.”
You wanted to tell him you didn’t need visibility, but it was a lie. Well, maybe not anymore, because Yoongi had already given it to you.
You wondered what had brought him to mention you. What journey his mind might have taken to lead to you, when he knew damn well what had happened with you was unprofessional. Maybe it was his way of apologizing, of giving you the little something that he could even though you hadn’t contacted him about the song. Maybe he even believed it would make you change your mind about the song, but that was unlikely.
Not when it could make people say that you were only using Yoongi for clout. No, you wanted your success to be all yours now that he had opened the door for you. It wasn’t like you had asked him to, so it wasn’t using him, right?
Minhyuk’s phone started ringing, taking you out of your reverie, and he stepped away to answer the call. He got lots of calls now, and every day it seemed like there was more. More that people wanted to know, wanted to see or wanted to hear.
It was unlikely that it’d stop someday. But it was okay. Being in constant motion kept you from feeling your usual loneliness. Made it lesser, smaller, until it was so easily ignored you almost thought it was absent.
The host dug his phone out of his pocket, and you watched as his eyes skimmed the screen, before looking at you with a delighted smile. You furrowed your brows, but you didn’t have time to say anything before Minhyuk let out a cheer as he jogged back to you.
“You are never going to believe this!”
You looked at him with a slightly widened gaze, glancing at the host once. “What?”
“You’ve been nominated as rookie of the year for MAMA.”
Your mouth fell open, quite at the same time as your heart stopped beating in your chest. “What?”
Minhyuk nodded quickly, and he pulled you into a crushing hug. “Look at you! I knew you were going to make it.”
You laughed, pushing on his chest so he’d release you from his hold. “Are you sure?”
You couldn’t really believe it. It didn’t make sense to you, and all you could do was meet Minhyuk’s gaze as his eyes filled with proud tears.
“He’s right,” the host said. He raised his phone, showing the screen to you. Sure enough, you read the article that had just come out, and your name was the first thing that caught your attention. Then everything blurred behind a wall of unexpected tears, and you let out a disbelieved laugh.
“How?”
Minhyuk shrugged his shoulders, smiling fondly. “Because you’re the best at what you do?”
Both of you knew you had Min Yoongi to thank for that. Hell, without him mentioning you three months ago you would probably have given up on making music all together. But no, he mentioned you, and you skyrocketed, your music even making it to the radio.
It was unbelievable, and it seemed new heights could be reached. Because MAMA was a lot of visibility, and publicity too. A room, full of other artists, and you were one of the nominees? It truly was a dream, wasn’t it?
You could only thank your lucky star for it, though you’d never go to the extent of thanking Min Yoongi, would you?
*****
You had been hesitating for a few hours now. Watching your phone, reading Yoongi’s contact on the screen, and then shutting off the device to focus on the lyrics you were currently writing. It was hard to focus – your mind just kept going back to Min Yoongi.
You didn’t know if you wanted to thank him. To tell him this was all thanks to him. It felt too real, like acknowledging it would take your success away. And you couldn’t lose it – it was one of the last things you had.
Your mother had tried to call you, the day after you learned that you were nominated as rookie of the year. You had sent her straight to voicemail, like you’d been doing for a while anyway. You deleted the voicemail without listening to it, uncaring of what she would have to say to you.
Nothing would ever make you want to have her in your life again, in any way whatsoever. She was dead to you, and you wanted it to stay that way.
You sighed, and your eyes fell to the paper you were writing on. Your handwriting looked more like scribbles, and you had doodled some flowers at the top of the page, as if they’d help you find some inspiration. Needless to say, they hadn’t, as your thoughts always trailed back to Yoongi.
You looked at the two lines you had already written. The only two lines your brain had been able to come up with in the last three hours since you’d sat down.
In the land where no one knows my name
I seek a path that leads to a city
You didn’t like it. Something about the two lines didn’t work together, and you decided to strike through the last word. Because what city was it supposed to represent? Seoul? You’d been in Seoul for so long it didn’t seem quite right anymore. Unless the city represented something else entirely. Perhaps a dream?
You sighed once more, replacing the word city with dream.
In the land where no one knows my name
I seek a path that leads to a dream
You already liked it more. You replaced the ‘a’ in front of ‘dream’ to ‘my’ before humming it out loud. You knew you’d still have to tweak it a little, but already the next lines started forming in your head.
In the land where no one knows my name
I seek a path that leads to my dream
Bright light and Heaven’s door
I knock and scream at them to open
In a world where no one knows my name
I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs
You’d think they’d ring true and high
But I think they’re the devil in disguise
They push me out and in the mud
I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me
In the land where no one knows my name
I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away
They say one day I’ll understand
But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay
It always hit you like that. Once the inspiration found you, you couldn’t really stop. You had to put the words on paper, ink staining your hand as you barely let it dry. You wrote quickly, eyes not blinking, brain entirely zeroing in on the spot where the tip of your pen kissed the paper, tracing the curves of the words you were ingraining.
It was an exciting feeling. Because yes, you felt like your success was all you had left, but it was a lie. Because even without your success, you’d still have this. Your pen against the paper, the flow of words spilling out of you like an overflowing glass, nothing but you and the lyrics.
It was your home when you were younger, and you knew it would always be your home. Music, that is, and the lyrics that found their way out of the confines of your skull.
You reread the verse, smiling to yourself. You knew it would likely change a little by the time you’d consider the song ready, but for a first draft you really did like the sound of it.
Especially considering it had helped you escape the will to contact Min Yoongi.
Your eyes slid to the window of your apartment. The sun was setting outside, coloring the world in shades of gold that made it feel like you could conquer it, if you so wanted. You felt infinite then, as if the start and the end happened all at once, and never at the same time. Like there was just this moment, right now, and nothing else, but also everything else. Every little moment, stretching into infinity.
It was a recurring feeling to you, whenever you found your inspiration, like it was some old friend coming home.
Once the sun was fully set, dusk settling on the world outside, you focused back on your apartment. You had to cook dinner soon, but somehow the idea of it exhausted you. Perhaps because you had used a lot of brain power on the song, and now you just wanted to rest. You figured ordering some food tonight would be okay, and you ordered fried chicken as you moved to your couch. You turned on the TV, moving to a channel that played some drama you’ve been invested in, and you watched the show for a while, up until the fried chicken was delivered.
You were on your way back up to your apartment when your phone lit up in your hand, and you almost threw it across the hall when you saw the name on the screen.
It made no sense. Like you had summoned him from the depths of your skull. Like you had passed the itch to call to him, and unlike you he hadn’t been able to resist the urge.
You picked up the call, hands shaking lightly, as you neared your apartment door.
“Hello?”
There was a short silence, and then the unmistakable deep voice of Min Yoongi filled your ears. “Hey, Y/n.”
Your throat felt dry, a lump keeping you from swallowing properly. It indeed made you gulp, and you could only hope that he hadn’t heard.
“How have you been doing?” he asked.
You stopped in front of your door, putting the fried chicken down long enough so you could dial your password and push the door open. “I’ve been great,” you replied truthfully, because there was no use to lie to him.
You still were lonely, but it was easier now.
“I’m glad,” he pensively said. It took him a while to speak again, but once he did he said, “I wanted to congratulate you for being nominated as rookie of the year.”
You blushed, immediately embarrassed, even though you were walking in your apartment and no one could see you. You put the fried chicken down on the counter, and then headed to a cupboard to grab a plate.
“Thank you,” you told him. “I think it’s… because of you.”
He chuckled, deeply, and the sound brought you right back to that night you had spent in his bed. Your blush turned furious, and you gulped once.
“You’re getting the success you deserve, as an artist. It’s all you.”
“Right. No one would know about me if you hadn’t mentioned me that one time.”
You heard him sigh, and regretted how your words had come out aggressive. “I just told the truth.” He paused, and you could almost hear his brain work as he figured his next words carefully. “Your music does inspire me.”
“Seonbaenim…” you trailed off.
“Ah, no need to call me that anymore,” he gently said. “We’re equals now.”
You doubted you’d ever be his equal, but you still let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, sorry.”
“It’s all good.”
Another awkward silence followed, as you put your plate down on the coffee table in your living room. You had gotten a nicer apartment once the money had started to come in, which meant you finally had more than just one room – an improvement that you still were struggling to wrap your head around.
You went back to the kitchen to grab the fried chicken, and then you settled on the floor, next to the coffee table.
“I was wondering…” Yoongi finally said, and you almost startled at the sound of his voice, as if you had forgotten he was on the other side of the line. “Would you like to… grab dinner one of these days? To celebrate your nomination.”
“Dinner? Us two?
He chuckled once more. “Now that I’m thinking of it, it might be coming out of nowhere to you.” He laughed, and you wondered if he was blushing just as furiously as you were.
Because you weren’t expecting him to want to see you again. It made you think of his girlfriend, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were still together, or if they were broken up now. You didn’t think he’d suggest dinner if they were still dating, but it was hard to tell.
Maybe that was his way of making things professional with you again, because he wanted to release the song.
“Is it…” you trailed off, struggling to find the words. “Is it to discuss the song?”
You were pretty sure you could hear him gulp. “Ah, nah, the song doesn’t matter. I’m not going to force you to release it, not when you’ve made it clear you’re not interested. I just thought… you deserve to celebrate?” He paused, just long enough to collect his thoughts before he continued. “Unless you’re already celebrating? You have a manager, right?”
You didn’t think you had ever heard Yoongi string so many words one after the other before, except when he was rapping or singing. It made you laugh anxiously once more, though you reckoned the anxiety was slowly dwindling to nothingness.
“I do,” you answered. “But I’m not celebrating with him. We’ve never really hung out outside of work stuff before.”
“That could be considered as an important work event, no?” Yoongi pointed out. “Your first nomination… it always means a lot.”
You nibbled at your bottom lip, eyes reading the words on the unopened box of fried chicken again and again. “It does,” you admitted, voicing it for the first time. “I…” Your eyes filled with tears, and you took a deep, steadying breath. “I still can’t believe it.”
His voice was kind when he spoke again. “It’s hard to believe it at first,” he said, gently. “That’s why you deserve to celebrate.”
“But why… Why with you? We’re not even friends. Barely work acquaintances at best, especially after…”
You didn’t finish your sentence, and it seemed it had stunned Yoongi into silence, because he didn’t say anything. Didn’t reply, and for a moment you imagined that he had hung up. But he hadn’t, so you waited patiently.
“I have to admit,” Yoongi said, his voice infinitely small. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry for how things went between us. I guess I’m trying to make amends? And I really want to make sure you celebrate this nomination the right way.”
“Isn’t that weird though, considering what happened?”
He pondered for a time. “Maybe. It’s only weird if we let it be weird.”
He wasn’t wrong, but you still didn’t know why he wanted to be the one celebrating with you. You barely knew each other, outside of the song you had worked on and that night you had slept together. He didn’t know about what you did for fun, about what you liked and disliked. Could only imagine what your relationship with your family was, if he listened to the song closely. Yes, he could relate to your love for music, as he had the same one, but he still didn’t know you.
Had that night with you mattered to him, too? Had he felt comfort when he was by your side, in the soft sheets of his bed?
“Right,” you let out. “I just… I don’t know. What about your…”
“Oh.” He paused, sighing. “We broke up months ago.”
Your eyes widened, the revelation giving you hope that you hated. You weren’t sure you were supposed to be hopeful right now. But he still had called you, right? Still wanted to celebrate with you, no?
“Oh,” you echoed. “I’m sorry.”
“It was my decision,” he admitted. “You made me realize some stuff… but I’d rather talk about it in person?”
So that was the reason why he wanted to see you after all. And somehow, it made your initial reticence disappear, until you found yourself saying, “Sure. I think that could be a good idea.”
You could hear the relief in his voice as he spoke. “Great! Would you want to come over? I could cook you a nice meal.”
You smiled, softly. “You want to cook me a meal? We could just go to a restaurant and…”
But you couldn’t, right? People could recognize you, paparazzi could take pictures of you, rumours could blossom left and right.
“You know what?” you added before he could say something. “Yes, I’d like to come over. I’ll find a nice bottle to drink?”
“Sounds good,” he agreed. “Are you available sometime this week?”
As you scheduled your dinner with Min Yoongi, you wondered if he could hear the wild beats he had ignited in your chest. You wondered if he could hear the hope in your voice, hope that you tried to push away. Because the last time you had been hopeful, you had ended up hurt, badly. Way more than you had been before he had come into your life. You didn’t want to give him this power over you once more, and so you promised yourself one thing, and one thing only.
You would only be friends with him this time around. Nothing more. Because your self-preservation came first.
*****
Yoongi didn’t move, in the few months you didn’t talk to him. He still lived at that same fancy building you had used to hate, yet now you lived in a similar one. Not quite as expensive, and your apartment didn’t lay on two stories like his condo did, but making your way to his place wasn’t quite as anxiety-inducing as it had been then.
You had told Minhyuk that you were going to visit Min Yoongi. It felt like you needed him to know, now that you were famous enough to get recognized. Not enough for the receptionist to let you pass though. Indeed, the lady stopped you as you were walking in, clutching an expensive bottle of wine in your clammy hands.
“Excuse me,” she said, and your eyes widened as you turned to look at her.
You stopped in your tracks, and your heart picked up its pace in your chest. “Yes?”
“You don’t live here.”
The sudden will to reply ‘Obviously’ almost made you blurt it out, but you swallowed the word like a lump in your throat, glancing towards the elevator.
“I’m visiting a friend,” you told her, though you hesitated on the last word.
Because Min Yoongi wasn’t really a friend. Yet at least. And you reckoned you had no idea if he’d be one someday, especially after what had happened a few months back. You had been hopeful since your call on the phone, but ever since this morning you rather felt anxious, like you were about to be swallowed up by the ground never to be seen again.
Still, you stood strong, head up high as the lady eyed you up and down.
“And who is that?” she asked, an eyebrow cocked as she clearly didn’t believe you.
It might have been your fault. You had decided not to wear too expensive clothes, because you still weren’t used to even having some. Indeed, you had been receiving designer clothes by a couple of different brands, but you had yet to sign with one, feeling a little too overwhelmed from it. You had never been big on fashion after all, and if it wasn’t for Minhyuk’s suggestions, you were pretty sure you would have had more than one faux pas so far.
“Uh,” you let out, and your eyes dropped to the wine bottle. “Min Yoongi,” you revealed, and somehow you wondered if you just looked like a crazy fan.
Did it happen, sometimes? Did fans try to visit him, pretending they knew him?
The lady’s gaze narrowed as you looked up at her, trying to appear as convincing as you could. “He didn’t mention he had a friend coming over.”
Maybe you had grown lucky after all these years of bad luck. Maybe your stars had finally aligned, maybe the ocean’s waves were finally beating the shore in your favour. Because Min Yoongi stepped in from the outside world, hair ruffled by the wind, with a slight flush to his cheeks as if he’d been rushing home.
At the sight of the wine bottle in his hands, you assumed he was.
“Seonbaenim,” you instinctively said as a way of greeting, as your heart decided it was time to run wild.
He looked better than you remembered him to be. Healthier, as if the months had been good to him. And maybe they had been, the same way that they had been for you.
“I told you not to call me that,” he reminded you, after a few silent seconds of him just staring at you. “You can call me Yoongi.”
It was way too casual for you, so you just nodded your head as your cheeks burned.
Yoongi made his way towards you, nodding at the receptionist. You had half a thought of saying ‘told you so’, but you refrained, choosing peace over war. In truth, you weren’t quite sure you could speak right now, as your heart just kept rushing on and on as if it was running the last few miles of a marathon.
Silence was all that accompanied you and Min Yoongi on the elevator ride up to his condo, though once the doors slid open, he glanced at you. You wondered if it was blush dusting his cheeks or if the wind had been colder outside than what you had thought.
“How are you?” he asked, and as soon as your gaze met his, he looked away.
You gulped down the anxiety, before saying, “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Great.”
You followed him out of the elevator, all the way to his door before you managed to speak again. “You got some wine? I thought I was the one that was supposed to bring it.”
He chuckled, shyly. “Just trying to be a good host.” He dialed his code in, before pushing the door open. “After all, aren’t we supposed to be celebrating you tonight?”
You pursed your lips, walking in behind him. “Well,” you choked out, before gulping down another lump. “I wouldn’t have gotten nominated if it weren’t for you, as I said before.”
“Oh please,” he let out as he kicked his shoes off, and you quickly did the same. “How many times will I have to tell you that it was all you?”
You shrugged, and your eyes slid to the stairs, picturing him there all those months ago. It made your gaze drop to the ground, and the heaviness of his gaze on your profile told you that he had noticed.
“Was it?” you said, chuckling awkwardly as you tried to keep the atmosphere light. “It rather feels like it was all thanks to your interview.”
He shrugged it off, sliding his feet in a pair of slippers. “You can grab those slippers.”
Your eyes moved to a lonely pair closer to the door, and you nodded.
“I really was thinking of cooking something?” Yoongi said as you were putting on the slippers, and you wondered if he was purposefully ignoring what you had said. “I’m not big on take-out, but I do like to cook.”
You truly met his gaze for what felt like the first time tonight, even though it really wasn’t, and it felt like the whole world had slowed. Like the lights had dimmed, and the walls and art decorating them had gone out of focus. The only thing you could see was his soft gaze, and the way he had a small, shy smile on his lips. You were pretty sure you could count the lashes on his eyes, and it made you feel like you were falling forward, while simultaneously staying in place. Like motion sickness, and you blinked a few times as your gaze dropped to the floor once more, too much of a coward to hold his.
“Sure, I’d love to cook,” you replied, worrying at your bottom lip. “I can help.”
At that, a true, bright smile moved on his features, and it made the room feel warmer, cozier. “Then let’s go cook, Y/n.”
The way he said your name had your insides go molten, and it took you a good few seconds before you actually managed to follow him as he walked towards the kitchen. And that was how you found yourself cooking with him, talking about everything and nothing with just a little bit of awkwardness clinging to the air. You didn’t think it was a bad thing – it was only normal after the months and what had happened. After all, even then you hadn’t been particularly close to him. Yes, that night, he had been comfort personified, but you rather thought that It was only because you had no comfort in your life then. Nothing to cling to to make you want to get up day after day.
One full glass of wine later, as food was sizzling in a pan on the oven, Yoongi leaned against the counter, looking at you. You felt shy under his gaze, and you busied yourself by refilling the glasses. It didn’t help, as it forced you to step closer to him, but at least it occupied the silence for a time.
“How have you been adjusting to this?” he asked, motioning around him.
You were aware he wasn’t talking about his kitchen, but rather about your new life. It made you ponder for a time, because you thought you were adjusting well, though you weren’t quite sure if it was just an act. It was still too early to tell, and you didn’t have it in you to lie to Min Yoongi.
“Honestly,” you let out, slowly, as your eyes got lost in the rich colour of the wine. “It’s been easy, so far. But I don’t even know if it’ll last? And each time I do an interview, or talk in front of people, it just feels like someone else takes over. I’m not even sure it’s me.”
He remained silent for a while, making you feel as if you blurting out your truth was a little too real for the relationship you currently had with him – which was none, you reckoned. You saw him take a sip of wine from the corner of your eyes, and it took him a moment before he swallowed. Once he did, he finally spoke up, making relief flood through you.
“I understand,” he said. “More than you can imagine. I’ve felt this way since I debuted with Bangtan all those years ago. Struggled with it a lot if I’m honest.”
You worried at your lip, slowly nodding your head. “And how have you adjusted?”
He smiled, softly. “All thanks to the members. They supported me when things got rough. Made sure I was never alone, and helped me to be comfortable with my public persona.”
You could taste the slight tang of jealousy on your tongue, yet you pushed it away, ignored it as best as you could. “I can imagine. It must have been… great, to have all of them around as you climbed the ladder to success.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, tilting his head to the side. “That’s… why I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone in this?”
He looked startled, for a few seconds, eyes a little wide as his mouth fell open. He had a line of red wine drying on his lips, and your gaze focused on it as your brain took the words in, spinning them around until they made no sense whatsoever.
“I…” you trailed off. “Why?”
He sighed, probably realizing that he had been too upfront. “No one should be alone in this,” he carefully said, and he turned away from you to check the food on the stove.
It smelled delicious, but he must have deemed it wasn’t ready, because he put the lid back on the pan and faced you again.
“And I know… I know we shouldn’t be talking about the song,” he continued. “But I also heard your lyrics.”
Lyrics of loneliness and despair you had spat in his mic that day you had come to record. On your birthday, the epitome of loneliness every year.
“You did,” you said, shying from his gaze once more. You took a sip of the wine, let it roll on your tongue, and then you spoke again. “It hasn’t been as bad as before,” you admitted, carefully. “It doesn’t feel as lonely as before. I think it’s because I’m not struggling with everything else anymore. Like… financially, and all that. I used to not even know when my next meal was going to be, and now I can always order or cook if I have time for groceries.”
The kind smile on Yoongi’s lips felt like the warm rays of a spring sun, and you couldn’t help the shy smile that grew on your own lips. “It does help,” he said. He glanced at the food, before settling his gaze back on you. “I bet you’ve been feeling like you are running out of time, though.”
“Gosh,” you let out, and you laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. It feels like I always have schedules to do, and whenever I don’t I feel bad if I’m not working on new lyrics.”
“I totally get that.”
There was a silence, only interrupted by an alarm Yoongi had set for the rice cooker. He turned it off, and then his gaze slid to his kitchen table that still stood empty where it was a couple of meters away.
“Let me set the table,” he told you, not meeting your gaze, and then you spent the next few minutes watching him do so, feeling a little awkward in your spot in the kitchen. It was lessened when Yoongi put some music on, some chill beats that wouldn’t make the conversation hard.
“Thank you,” you told him when he moved back to the kitchen to check the food. “I could have helped.”
“No,” he said, reassuringly. “I told you, we’re celebrating you tonight. You already helped with cutting the vegetables.”
If someone could call your poor attempt at cutting the onions as help, then you would take the compliment. “Right,” you let out, laughing lightly.
And for the first time tonight it didn’t feel awkward or forced. It felt comfortable, as if watching Yoongi set the table, in the mundanity of the action, had brought back the comfort he radiated back then.
“Trust me,” he said, offering you a toothy grin.
It was surprising, and it did things to you that made your cheeks burn and your tongue ache for the taste of wine. So you took a long gulp, before moving to grab the bottle and place it on the table.
“Here, I’ve contributed,” you told him, and your nose was a little scrunched up, awkwardly so, when you looked at him again.
He laughed, a sound you reckoned you could get used to hearing, and then he started putting the food in bowls. “I don’t know what I would have done without your input.” He sounded sarcastic, teasing, and maybe, just maybe you really could be friends. “Thank you.”
“No problem, seonbaenim.” This time, you said the formal nickname teasingly, and he rolled his eyes, slightly shaking his head.
“You have to stop. You’re making me feel old.”
“Would you rather me calling you ahjussi?”
The way his smile fell to be replaced by a startled expression had you burst out a laugh that was nothing but feminine, one he joined after a few seconds.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asked, and you grinned at him as he carried the bowls to the table. “I see.”
The atmosphere shifted, after that. Conversation grew easier, not forced, and the exquisite taste of the food made you feel like maybe you could cook after all. You finished the first wine bottle as you ate, which you reckoned might have been a bad idea, because you were tipsy by the time Yoongi uncorked the second one, his cheeks having turned red from the few glasses he had already ingested.
“Are you sure we should be drinking that too?” you asked, and you giggled as he threw you a no-bullshit look.
“Celebrating, remember?” he replied. “We have to be getting drunk.”
“Just us two?”
His gaze widened slightly, and he put down the wine bottle. “Unless you don’t want to.”
You raised your glass, looking at the light over his kitchen island through it. “I do want to. Just feels like we should… not be stupid this time around, no?”
His features were somber when your gaze slid to him. “Right,” he said, slowly nodding. “I didn’t invite you over with any intentions, if that can reassure you.”
You were too tipsy for where the conversation was going, so you said, “I want to be your friend, Min Yoongi. Let’s not be professional this time. Let’s just be friends.”
His eyes lit up, slowly followed by a smile that took over his mouth in the most beautiful way. He looked heavenly, standing there, long hair behind his ears, pale, expensive Louis Vuitton sweater rolled on his forearms. He looked princely, like he had looked that night, and it made your gaze slide away.
For preservation, perhaps.
“I’d love to call you a friend,” he said, gently. “I’d really love to.”
You pursed your lips, steeling yourself for the glance you sent to him. “Then pour me some wine, Min Yoongi.”
He laughed, and soon enough he was back at the table next to you, talking about what growing up was for him. You could see the similarities in your past, and maybe that was why you had always been comfortable with him before. Because he really did understand where you were coming from, though he had been able to fix things with his family.
Which wasn’t something you ever wanted to do. You were content with not talking to them, and you were pretty sure that wouldn’t change. Especially not as the only reason why they were contacting you now was because they probably had heard about you on the television.
“I swear!” Yoongi said, slightly shaking his head, a long time after the conversation had shifted to anecdotes about his past and yours. “I’ve never seen anyone get so worked up about some bananas.”
You laughed, quickly followed by him. The retelling of a fight between Jungkook and Hoseok had you shedding a tear, and Yoongi watched you carefully as you dried it with the back of your hand.
“That is so stupid,” you commented.
He nodded wisely. “I know. But it’s been a long time. Jungkook-ie was mostly upset because it was a gift.”
You chuckled. “Bananas?”
“Yes.” Yoongi laughed, and then his eyes slid to your empty glass in front of you.
You were halfway through the second bottle, and the alcohol had been buzzing through your system. The scene had lost its focus around you, the wine fuzzing it up until all that was left were Yoongi’s pretty features. His cheeks had turned red a while ago, and you reckoned yours probably had too, sometime between your third and fourth glass. You didn’t really care – this Yoongi was comfortable, friendly. Something you had been needing more than you would have ever cared to admit – a friend.
You liked how easy it was, that friendship. And it really was, even in the days and weeks that followed you reconnecting with Yoongi. Like maybe that was what you had always been meant to be – friends, and nothing more.
He never talked to you about the song again. Never pressed you to listen to it, to release it, but if you were in his head you’d know that he was dying to drop it out of the blue, to have his fans know just what you felt, what he felt. Because the loneliness that had inhabited you when you had written your share of the lyrics was common to him, though it was growing less frequent now that you were in his life.
Min Yoongi really was comfort indeed.
*****
After weeks of talking once in a while, of hanging out even more rarely, with Yoongi’s and your busy schedule, MAMA arrived. You were anxious about it – it was your first award show after all. Yoongi was there in spirit to reassure you before, sending you an expensive whiskey bottle as a gift. He was getting ready with the members of BTS that were attending, which meant you weren’t going to see him before the ceremony. So all you did that day was prepare with a glam team hired by Minhyuk, and then you were driven to the venue where MAMA was held.
It was surreal, to sit in that venue. With the other artists, the whole scene of music that was Asia. You were sat next to Twice, a group you had never expected you’d see in real life. Sana and Jihyo congratulated you on your nomination, and you immediately went into camera mode, easy smile and bright eyes on display.
If you were honest, the camera mode was barely faked today. No, you rather were amazed by the scene, by the crowd and the buzzing of chatter and laughter. You awed at the sight of so many famous people, of Twice and Stray Kids and some groups you didn’t even know. You hadn’t realized you were part of it before today, and now you could see IU sitting on the other side of the venue, along with some people you didn’t recognize.
Imposter syndrome chose this moment to hit you. Out of nowhere, the way the first bolt of lightning strikes, even before the sound of thunder is heard. With clammy hands, you watched as the lights dimmed, and the crowd ushered until a spotlight shone on the animator of the evening. You barely could listen, barely could watch the groups performing. All you could think was that you were alone in this room, without anyone by your side.
Not even Minhyuk. And it wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to – for some reason, he hadn’t received an invitation along with you. Something you didn’t quite understand, but didn’t really have anything to say about it. Because, after all, you were just a rising star, and rising stars tended to fall into darkness more often than not.
Why would you be any different?
You were starting to panic. You knew it, and yet you couldn’t help it. Sana must have noticed, because during a commercial break, she leaned closer to you.
“Hey,” she greeted you once more. “Are you okay? Do you need water?”
The whole of Twice turned towards you, and your eyes widened. “Uh,” you let out. “I don’t…”
But Jeongyeon was already extending a water bottle towards you, and you thanked her as you took it. Your hands shook a little as you uncapped it, but the first swig had the anxiety calm down, just enough for you to thank the girls again.
“It’s okay!” Sana reassured you. “We know how overwhelming this can be. Can’t imagine what it must be like for someone alone.”
You winced, glancing around. Your gaze stopped as it met Yoongi’s. He was not too far from IU, with the rest of the BTS members in attendance. You hadn’t noticed him before, perhaps because they had arrived late.
You had been so early you had been able to see everyone walking in.
Yoongi nodded his head at you, offering you a secretive smile. It grounded you in the present, and you finally felt the wave of panic recede, the way the ocean recedes at low tide. It calmed you down, and you found yourself able to actually enjoy the show from then on.
When it was time for the award for rookie of the year to be announced, anxiety returned to you. It wasn’t the same kind of anxiety – no, it was the kind that one anticipates, uses to push themselves forward. You leaned on the edge of your seat, almost imperceptibly, listening as they called out the names. Smiling shyly as they said your name, and the big screen shone with an image of you. You watched yourself, prettily sitting there, with your hair perfectly styled and makeup on fleek, feeling like you were watching someone else entirely. It was an out-of-body experience, somehow, especially as the camera you took over.
The crowd was silenced expectantly as the announcer opened the envelope, slowly. You thought you could hear the envelope tear. It was like it was echoing, on repeat like a song stuck in your head. All you could do was watch as they got the paper out, and when they said your name, loud and clear, your eyes widened as your lips parted slightly.
For an unknown reason, your head turned towards Sana first, and she offered you a bright smile as the room erupted into claps. You slowly got up, feeling thousands of eyes following your every move, and your own gaze slid to the other side of the room once more.
Yoongi was clapping, with the softest smile on his lips. It was a smile you rarely saw from him – it was fond, like you were the sun after a long night. He mouthed a congratulation, only meant for you – something personal, that you tucked in a safe corner of your heart. It made you stand straighter, and it guided you towards the scene as you walked to accept your award.
You bowed as you were handed the trophy, its weight surprisingly heavy as it landed in your hands, and you smiled widely as the announcer congratulated you. You thanked them, and then moved to the mic, letting the camera persona take over.
And take over she did, giving thanks to the people that helped you. You couldn’t resist but gaze towards Yoongi as you kept talking, and you had to bite your tongue not to thank him too. Because to you, it was thanks to him that you were standing there, in this spot. The winner of rookie of the year – a year ago, you were all but an unknown busker, barely getting by. And this year, you were shining in the light, rising towards the heavens.
An out-of-body experience indeed.
When it was done, you could barely remember anything. From the whole evening, if you were honest, as if it was too good to be true. You had been invited to an after-party, and on your way to it, after you had changed into a less formal attire, you found yourself coming back to your body.
You blinked once, twice, letting out a small, disbelieved laugh. The driver glanced at you, cocking an eyebrow in the rear-view mirror.
“Sorry,” you apologized, and then you let out another laugh. It sounded a little crazy, perhaps, but you didn’t care.
Your body was the vessel of a happiness it had never known before, and you were going to enjoy it. To drink it till the very last drop, because who knew when you’d feel like this again?
You got to the party, almost at the same time as another similar SUV. You smiled as you saw Sana and Jihyo come out, and they motioned for you to join them.
Another friendship you had never seen coming. But it blossomed easily, and they chatted and laughed and drank with you for a while. Long enough for you to forget that there was actually a reason why you had accepted the invitation to this after-party in the first place.
Min Yoongi was in attendance. And you thought you could feel the moment he walked into the place. As if the frantic energy lessened, somehow, and your eyes immediately searched for him. You saw Hoseok first, and he grinned as his gaze met yours, waving at you.
You waved back, which didn’t go unnoticed to Sana and Jihyo.
“You know Hobi-nim?” Jihyo asked, pretty mouth forming a pout. “So the rumors are true after all.”
You winced. “The rumors are out of mind but yes, I do know Hobi-nim.” You did, from Yoongi. You had only met him twice before though.
You didn’t mind Jihyo’s comment. Mostly because it was said so genuinely, so nicely, with no ounce of jealousy or any other negative emotion behind. You didn’t think she had it in her anyway. Neither did Sana, who just said, “Rumors are always out of mind. Don’t pay attention to them.”
Easier said than done, but you still nodded your head, before glancing towards Hoseok again. This time, you noticed Jungkook and Yoongi too, and the latter offered you that same secretive and fond smile he had offered you earlier. It made something in you constrict, and blush crept on your cheeks.
“You can go with them, if you want,” Jihyo told you, noticing the emotions on your face. “This is a safe place for us celebrities to mingle.”
Sana chuckled. “We like parties like this. Makes us feel a little more normal.”
“Do they happen often?” you enquired, and you broke eye contact with Yoongi to meet the girl’s gaze.
“Not really,” she admitted. “Unfortunately.” It was her turn to look towards Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook, and then she added, “Do go with them. Yoongi-nim is looking this way.”
This time, you turned fully beet red, but luckily enough the expensive foundation on your skin held, hiding your emotions. To Sana’s eyes, perhaps, but you were pretty sure Jihyo knew.
And knew what? You didn’t even know. Yoongi was a friend, nothing more, and you liked it that way. You liked that you could count him as a friend, because God knew you needed friends in your life.
“Well then, better go talk to him before he makes rumors spread,” you joked, and the two girls laughed.
Before you went, you exchanged numbers with them, promising that you could meet up in the following days, and then you were off to meet Min Yoongi, where he stood close to a wall on the other side of the room.
He didn’t like parties. That much you knew. He had only decided to go because he wanted to be there for you, whether the outcome of the evening was positive or not. And it was positive, the brightest thing that had ever happened to you. An evening built of the stuff that makes the sun shine – bright, ever-lasting. You clung to that feeling as you reached Yoongi’s side, and Hoseok and Jungkook dipped as soon as you appeared, leaving you alone with Yoongi.
“Congratulations,” he said, this time aloud.
It still felt personal, and you tilted your head to the side, offering him a smile. “I should congratulate you. It’s because of you.”
He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You know it was all you. You have to stop saying it was me.”
“Right.” You narrowed your eyes, imperceptibly. “Of course I won rookie of the year because I was busking in Hongdae.”
“Come on,” he let out. “We’ve been over this a thousand times.”
“And we’ll go over it a thousand times more until you accept that it’s because of you.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Right. Then why don’t we get a drink to celebrate me? Since it’s all because of me.”
You laughed, eyes sliding to the bar. “Whiskey?”
“Champagne?”
“You like champagne?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. But if we are celebrating something that didn’t happen, then we should drink something we don’t like.”
You cocked your head to the side once more. “What makes you think I don’t like champagne?”
“Do you?”
Your silence was answer enough for Yoongi. You both laughed, and then he motioned towards the bar. “After you.”
You nodded, slowly, and then moved towards the alcohol, and towards your salvation, maybe. Because though Yoongi had always felt like comfort, right now he felt different. New, a little like you had felt that night months ago.
The night you were trying not to think about, whenever you hung out with him. You had never talked about his ex either, as if the subject was taboo. And perhaps it was if you wanted to maintain a friendship with Min Yoongi.
“We’ll take two whiskeys,” Yoongi said as you reached the bar, and you threw him an offended look.
“Whiskey? I thought we were going for champagne.”
“I’ll be damned if you catch me drinking champagne,” he muttered.
It was said so adorably you widened your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “Maybe you’re already damned,” you said, and you raised your hand so the barmaid noticed you. “Can you change that for champagne, please?”
She nodded, and you turned back towards a bewildered Yoongi. “You…”
He fell silent, and you cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
He only snorted, shaking his head slightly as his eyes fell to the floor. “Nothing.”
You moved a little closer, trying to meet his gaze. “Right.”
He rolled his eyes, gently pushing you away. It was familiar, more familiar than your usual friendship, but it felt fitting for the night and its brightness.
Your champagne arrived, and you looked down at the golden liquid as Yoongi handed you your glass. Your fingers barely even touched, yet you felt the warmth of a thousand suns crawling up your arm, slowly. You would have flinched had the feeling not been so pleasurable, especially as Yoongi looked at you again.
He looked at you differently. Like it was his first time seeing you after a long time. Like you were a flower he had forgotten, years ago, and was now only seeing again. It made your heart stop in your chest, before it started again on an erratic beat.
“Enjoy,” he said, and he clinked his glass with yours before downing his own.
Your gaze widened as he put the glass down on the bar, wincing slightly. “What was that for?”
“Your turn.”
“What?” you let out, and you laughed.
His eyes were different again, familiar, when they looked at you this time. The eyes of the friend you had grown to know in the last few weeks. “Finish it, so we can get some real alcohol.”
“I don’t want to chug.”
“Why not?”
You pursed your lips. “I don’t want to get too drunk tonight.”
He remained silent for a time, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Why not?”
Because. Because last time he had looked at you like this while you had been drinking had led to an unimaginable chaos, one you didn’t wish to revisit. No matter how comfortable he was, Yoongi was always going to just be a friend.
“I want to remember tonight,” you chose to say, carefully. “I’ve already forgotten most of the award show, I don’t want to forget the after-party too.”
He laughed, a clear sound that was meant just for your ears, in the loud music playing in the party. It was almost your first time noticing the beat since you had joined Yoongi, as if you had joined him in a pocket outside of this room.
Crashing back to reality had you look down at your glass. And then you knocked it back, chugging it in a few long sips as Yoongi watched you with a widened gaze.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said as you put it down. “Let’s get you some water.”
“Why?” you asked. “Why do you care if I remember or not?”
Your tone had changed. He noticed it right away, and he stilled in front of you, turning to stone. “Because you’re my friend?” he answered carefully. “If you want to remember, then the good friendly thing to do is make sure you do.”
The way he said that sentence, with that low voice of his, the one that only came out when he was in private, or perhaps when he was tired… it did things to you. Made you look at him as if the light was shining differently on him.
Differently, yes, but all the same too. Shining like that night months ago, and if you weren’t in public you think you would have grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.
A terrifying thought if you had ever seen one, and it made you glance around. “Should we… go somewhere else?”
It wasn’t what you had meant to ask. It was threading dangerous territory, a slope that could only lead to mistakes again. To unprofessionalism, though this time your relationship with him wasn’t professional.
You were giving yourself whiplash. All the months, of fame and newfound friendship, were giving you whiplash. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it.
“You don’t like the party?” he asked.
You met his gaze. “I know you don’t. We don’t have to stay.”
His lips parted slightly, and your eyes fell to them, admiring their pinkish tint. “What would there be for you to remember, then?”
You.
You didn’t say it, only shrugged your shoulders. “I already partied before you got here. Do you know that Sana and Jihyo are the sweetest girls?”
He smiled, softly. “Are they? I’ve never really spoken to them.”
You wet your lip, eyes sliding to the empty champagne glasses on the bar, almost at the same time as they were picked up to be put away. “Yeah. And honestly, I don’t do parties all that much either.” You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, only then noticing that your hands were shaking slightly. “I only came because you were going to be here.”
“Did you?” he asked.
He sounded like he didn’t believe you, like you were supposed to be enjoying the scene around you. And you were, you really were, but the light was shining on something else entirely now, a treasure you wanted to find, like it was but the red cross on a treasure map.
You didn’t know if it existed, but tonight you wanted to believe that it did.
“Yes, I did,” you replied truthfully.
He chuckled. “And I only came here because you were coming.”
You smiled, knowingly. “So, should we go?”
*****
The city lied beneath your feet. An ocean of twinkling lights, out of reach. Like jewels shining in the night, never-ending. You felt small, standing atop the building, and your breath froze in the air, curling up to reach the clouds above.
“It’s cold,” Yoongi stated, and you glanced at him.
His hands were buried deep in his coat pockets, and he was visibly trying to hide his face in the collar. You smiled at him, shivering in a soft breeze.
“The cold is sobering,” you replied, eyes trailing back to the city. “Isn’t it pretty?”
Yoongi took a few steps forward, until he was standing next to you. He contemplated the view, and to your surprise he tilted his head back to look at the clouds.
“The sky looks like it’s on fire,” he commented.
You imitated the position, your eyes trailing to the sky. Indeed, the clouds were shining orange, reflecting the neon lights of the city below. “It does,” you agreed. “Would make for good song lyrics.”
He chuckled. “You never stop thinking about music, do you?”
“I don’t.” You paused, and the feeling of his heavy gaze on your profile had you look at him. “Do you?”
“Nah.” He shook his head, slightly. “Sometimes, I think it’s a gift. Other times, it feels like it’s a curse.”
Understandable. Because if the grind never stopped, then neither could you.
“I’ve started writing a new song,” you revealed, as it felt fitting in the moment. Your eyes trailed back to the city below, and you wondered if this city, this collection of shimmering lights, was what you were referring to in your lyrics. If it was the dream you were writing about. “Why is it that most of my songs are sad or angry?”
Yoongi didn’t say anything for a long time. Only contemplated the city in a pensive silence. Wind lapped at his coat, at your hair, and you shivered again. Your own coat was tightly wrapped around you, but it did nothing to keep the cold at bay.
“Are you sad and angry?” he asked.
You pondered for a time. “It’s hard to let go of emotions that have been integral parts of your life for so long.”
To your surprise, he stepped closer to you. Maybe because it was cold, and your bodies gave off heat, just enough for you to be attracted to each other. Like your gravity sucked him in, and soon enough his arm was pressed against yours.
“The letting go is the hardest part,” he admitted. “Because it’s a comfort zone. But once you allow yourself to feel… it’s a whole new world.”
“How did you do it?”
He sighed, and his eyes dropped to the ground beneath your feet, no longer admiring the city. “I’d say it’s Hoba, that helped me the most. But all of them. They showed me that there’s more to life than anger and sadness.”
“Your music still carries it, though,” you pointed out.
“It does.” Head hung low, Min Yoongi looked the perfect example of defeat. Like he’d run a race, reached the end only to realize he was going in the wrong direction. “The emotions still exist. I still experience them sometimes. And…” he trailed off, looking in the distance. “It’s what my fans want of me. They don’t expect me to release soft music all that much.”
“So, you’re doing it for the fans?”
He smiled, softly. “I love my fans. I’d be nothing without them.”
A year ago you would have been deadly jealous but now, now you had fans of your own. You could understand him.
“They love you too,” you reminded him. “They’d still love you if you released different music.”
He shrugged. “I have an album coming soon. It’s different.”
“Is it?”
A car honked in the world far below. “It is. I can send it to you, if you want to listen.”
“I’d love to.”
He met your gaze, and for a moment it was as if winter had ceded its place to summer, and warmth blossomed inside of you. “As long as you let me read your lyrics.”
You winced, chuckling lightly. “Maybe when the song is ready.”
He faced you, extending a hand in the air between you. “Deal.”
You grabbed his fingers, gently. They were cold, terribly so, and you felt bad for forcing him to be out here. “Deal,” you agreed, shaking his hand.
His thumb moved on the back of your hand, slowly, drawing a strange pattern. Current flew through your bloodstream, and you shivered once more, for a completely different reason this time.
Your brain chose this moment to remind you of that night, months ago, when you had gone to his place wanting to tell him how he had made you feel. When you had seen him with his ex, with his girlfriend. When you had realized he had chosen her, though he had never really known you were an option, had he?
You let go of his hand, albeit reluctantly, but you remained facing him.
“You never told me…” you started, but didn’t know if you should finish. Mostly because you didn’t think it was a good idea to ask, not when the evening still shone like a thousand stars. Especially now that Yoongi was looking at you again, with that fond glimmer in the depths of his eyes.
“What?” he asked after a few seconds, voice small in the infinity of the world.
“You never told me why you broke up with your girlfriend, in the end.”
If the world could stop breathing, you were pretty sure it did, in that instant. It held its breath, as you watched Min Yoongi carefully.
“She cheated on me, before I met you,” he revealed, flatly. “Claiming I was too absent. I took her back when she came back… because I felt lonely. Realized she was the source of the loneliness and broke up for good.”
You held his gaze, hoping yours held nothing of how you felt. Because you felt a lot, as the truth reached your ears. You ached for him, ached at knowing that he had felt like that back then. But you ached for yourself too, because what else had he been pursuing with you other than the company she couldn’t give him?
You had just been in the right place at the right moment. Something that he had been able to use for comfort. The way you had sought his comfort, perhaps.
“I’m sorry,” you said after a while. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
His eyes were unreadable, but his cheeks were tinged red with the cold. He looked pretty, angelic, in front of you. With the burning clouds overhead, you’d almost think he was a fallen angel.
“It’s okay,” he reassured you, his voice low once more. Intimate, just for you. “I never should have let her back in.”
“Why?” you asked, and your throat suddenly felt dry. You tried to swallow, but a lump made you gulp.
“Why did you actually come to me, that night?” he asked. “Not when we recorded the song. After we…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was referring to.
He was referring to the night you had believed you could confess to him how you had felt. To that night, where hope turned to decay, and all you could do was let go of comfort. All you could do was go back to the sad discomfort that was your life.
“I…” You bit your lip, pulling on some dry skin. “I wanted to tell you what it had meant for me? When we slept together.”
He gulped. You could visibly see it, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “And what did it mean?”
Your gaze dropped in the vague space between you. It felt infinitesimally immense right now, like he was an entire universe away. “We shouldn’t be speaking about that.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends now.” You met his gaze, surprised to find his pained. “Friends don’t speak about such things.”
“True friendship is when there’s no taboo subject, is it not?”
Min Yoongi and his wisdom would be the death of you.
“I guess it is,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to ruin this.”
He took a step closer to you. So close you could feel his warmth, even though the night was cold. “Why would it ruin anything?”
Your heart beat faster, in your chest. Reaching a speed unknown to it, one that left you breathless. “Because…”
Because what? You didn’t even know. You weren’t drunk, at least not on alcohol. But you sure were drunk on the aftertaste of winning the award, of being right here with him on top of this building as if you were standing in your own pocket in this world. A little like it felt down at the party, but so much more. So much so that you pictured yourself leaning in, falling into his orbit.
“I don’t think it’d ruin anything,” he said, voice so low you really felt yourself leaning in. “I was there that night. I know how it felt.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I told you I didn’t do regret, right?” he asked, question seemingly out of the blue.
“You did.”
“I regretted what I did to you, for the longest time. Thought I deserved to be lonely. So it wasn’t just because of her, that I broke up. It was because of you too. I regret going back to her in the first place.”
Softly, like a feather falling or snow dancing in the wind, your heartbeat found a steady rhythm once more.
“You shouldn’t have regretted,” you said, and you surprised both of you as your hand reached between you, and you cupped his cheek. “I don’t think we would have worked, then.”
“Why?”
“We were too different.” You chuckled, infinitely sadly. “We still are, aren’t we?”
“We’re not different in the ways that matter,” he pointed out.
And when he leaned forward, you welcomed him in as one welcomes a lover home from the war. You let him press his chapped lips on yours, let his mouth move against yours in the slowest dance. As if he was afraid you’d pull away, but tonight you didn’t want to pull away.
It wasn’t about seeking comfort anymore. It really was about going home, to something that could be great.
You kissed Min Yoongi under the clouds, in the winter night. You kissed him with all the longing you had felt, though you had been trying to ignore it. It came back, far stronger now, and it made you grab at his collar so you could pull him closer. He sighed in the kiss, big hands finding your waist, holding you in place.
And when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, your breaths mingled, forming a single cloud that moved up towards the sky.
“See?” he murmured. “Nothing to be ruined.”
“Yoongi,” you breathed.
He said your name, and then pulled away, just enough for his eyes to flutter open. You looked at him too, and when your gazes met, you understood that it really had been supposed to happen this way all along. You hadn’t been supposed to be with him then. Because it was unprofessional, yes, but mostly because you would have always felt like you weren’t enough.
Hell, you didn’t know if you were enough right now, but you were already something more.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked after a moment of gazing at each other. “I’m starting to freeze.”
You laughed, the sound lighter than dust in the sun. “Yes.”
“I’d invite you to my hotel room but…” he trailed off, resting his forehead against yours again. “Let’s take this slow. Let’s wait until we’re back home.”
“We’re going home tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s still slower than going at it tonight, no?”
“We can wait longer,” you said, and you were the one that pulled away this time around. Because you needed to look him in the eye when you said the next words. “If we’re going to really do this, I want to do it the right way.”
His smile shed warmth and light on every dark spot of your soul, until you were shining from within. “Works for me.”
*****
Dating Min Yoongi felt strange. Unreal, like it was a dream come true. Like you were walking the land of dreams, and really you wished you wouldn’t have to wake up. You didn’t think you would – he pulled through every day. Met you in the middle, in the places that mattered most. He supported you as an artist, and supported you as a person too.
But for some reason, you hadn’t been able to fully give yourself to him yet. You had only been going on dates, never sleeping over, never sleeping together. And if he minded, he never said it.
The holidays came, and Yoongi invited you to a party hosted by Jeong Hoseok. All the other members were in attendance too, except Kim Taehyung, who apparently was away in Daegu for the week. Some of the members also had their partners with them – in truth, everyone did, except Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Jeong Hoseok, though the latter had a friend over that seemed a little too comfortable with him for her to just be a friend.
The girlfriends were nice. Sweet, another group of friends you hadn’t expected to make. None of them treated you differently because you were somehow famous, probably because they were all dating people far more famous than you’d ever be. You got along with Hoseok’s friend the most, and you thought it was only because it was also her first time meeting everyone.
The party was fun. It was more of a dinner, with alcohol and food like a banquet for the gods. You ate so much you thought you couldn’t walk anymore after, yet you managed to make your way home with Yoongi.
Because this time, when he had asked you to sleep over, you hadn’t found it in you to refuse. Perhaps because it was the holidays, and the feeling of coziness and comfort that the days oozed had you wanting to drown in his familiarity.
If Yoongi noticed the switch in you, he didn’t say. Ever so the patient man when it came to you.
You looked at him, during the drive home. His features shone softly, in the neon light of the streetlamps. It made his skin glow like honey, like amber. You reached between you, grazing your fingers on his cheek.
“What?” he asked, letting out a small chuckle. “Have they made you drink too much?”
You snorted, resting your head against your seat. “No.”
He spared a quick glance at you, before resuming his attention on the street in front of him, as he was the one driving the car. Indeed, for this private dinner you had all chosen to drive yourself, instead of asking for the company to drive you around.
“What’s up, then?”
You sighed, a little dreamily. “You’re pretty, Min Yoongi.”
It was hard to tell in this light, but you were pretty sure his cheeks had dusted with pink. “And then you say you haven’t drank too much?”
You laughed. “It’s just a compliment!”
“You don’t usually compliment me like this,” he pointed out.
He wasn’t wrong, but it felt fitting, tonight. Because you were staying over, maybe.
“Well, I should start doing it. You deserve it.”
He snorted. “You’re adorable.”
Now, it was your turn to blush, and your eyes trailed to the street in front of you.
“Am I?”
He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers. “You sure are.”
When you got to his place, Yoongi parked his car in the underground parking lot. He forced you to stay in your seat while he walked around the car to hold the door open for you, and you swatted his arm as you got up.
“You know you don’t have to do this with me?”
“But I want to,” he said, pouting. “Can’t I do something for you once in a while?”
“You always do stuff for me.”
It was true. Whatever you needed Yoongi was always ready to provide, whether it was help with some lyrics or a hug.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t do more,” he said as you stepped out of the car, standing next to him.
By instinct, you reached between you, one hand resting on his waist as you tilted your head back, slightly, enough to be looking up at him.
“Right,” you breathed, and your eyes moved to his lips as he wet them.
“What’s that look on your face?” he asked, voice low and husky.
You smirked, ever so slightly. “What look?”
He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to you, and the smirk disappeared. “So you want to be a brat?”
You hadn’t expected that of him. In truth, you didn’t really know how he was sexually, considering the only time you had had sex with him was when you were both drunk and vulnerable, trying to chase comfort in the other’s touch.
“Do you like that?” you asked, breathlessly.
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, before pulling away to explore your features with that dark gaze of his. “I like whatever you like.”
“So if I tell you to get on your knees and eat me out you would?” you whispered, smirk moving back to your lips.
He had the decency to blush as he spared a careful look around. “Here?”
You pondered, tilting your head to the side to reveal the soft skin of your neck. “You think we can wait until we’re upstairs?”
“Anyone could see us.”
You looked around. “The garage is empty.”
He murmured your name, dangerously. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Then we shall die together.”
It was the last thing you said before he pressed his lips against yours, ravishing your mouth in a wet kiss that had you moan. His large hands found your sides, pulling you back against the car until you were stuck between it and him. His tongue toyed with yours, exploring your mouth until you were panting, feeling the start of his erection on your lower stomach.
He pulled away, just enough so he could move down and press warm kisses on your jaw. He then bent down a little more, reaching your shoulder, and he bit at the skin over the collar of your coat.
You breathed out his name, sensually, as your hands got lost in his long locks. It only enticed him further, and he grinded into you. It made you throw your head back, and this time he nipped at your neck, not so gently, eliciting another moan from you.
“Gosh, Yoongi,” you said, and he raised his head to look at you.
His pupils were blown wide in his eyes, clear indicators of his lust for you. They made his gaze look like a bottomless pit, one you jumped in right as you pulled him back into another kiss, sucking on his bottom lip.
You blindly reached for the knob of the car’s door, the one for the backseat behind you, and when you found it you pushed Yoongi away, just so you could open it. As you did so, he shut the passenger side door, and he followed you in as you lied on the backseat.
He hovered over you, hair falling around his face, and you pushed it away from his face, holding it in a ponytail-like grip. Some strands escaped the confines of your fist, softly cascading the sides of his face again.
Min Yoongi was a prince. A prince and an angel. A dream, something you had never thought you’d witness yourself in your entire life. And witness you did, with your eyes and every inch of your body that you knew he’d come to worship. Just like you worshipped him and the ground he walked on.
“What?” he murmured as you just kept carefully surveying him.
“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed, and you watched as his mouth fell open.
He had never been good at accepting compliments, even those coming from you.
He whispered your name like a lover’s caress. “So are you. You’ve been a vision, ever since the first time I saw you.”
You wet your lips. “The first time?”
“I was walking in Hongdae, with some company staff. Didn’t get recognized by some dumb twist of luck I’d say. But you were busking.” You thought you could see him gulp. Hear him, as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t walk away. Just kept looking at you, for so long the staff started getting worried. Because they didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. But gosh, you were so beautiful.” He chuckled, lowly. “It was like I had walked into a temple and seen a goddess.”
“Yoongi,” you whined, because you too weren’t good with compliments.
But he wasn’t done.
“And you sang. The voice of an angel, if I’m honest. I was entranced. Then I spent weeks trying to find you, making staff go to Hongdae to try and get your name. Because I needed to know you. Needed to know you weren’t just a construct of my imagination.”
He pecked your lips this time, as if he really needed to make sure you were real.
“When I started listening to your music, I recognized myself in the lyrics,” he admitted. “That’s why I approached you in the first place, and then I just…” He rested his forehead against yours, and your eyes fluttered shut. “I just needed to have you in my life. Any way whatsoever. I was stupid to stay with Yejun, because I think I already knew then that I was going to fall in love with you.”
You repeated his name, like he was a melody. And to you he was. He was your melody, the music that made your soul dance. The muse to your mind, and the song to your heart. “We all are stupid sometimes.”
He chuckled. “I’m relieved the months have led me to you after all. I’m not sure I deserve it.”
“You do.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, trying to bring him closer. “You deserve everything in this world.”
The following kiss was slow. Languid, as if he needed to trace his love into you, using his lips to build you anew. It was beauty personified, comfort revived. Everything in you went steady, and then sang to the melody he carried, the one you carried together.
When he pulled away from the kiss to look at you with his dark eyes, cheeks flushed from the ministrations, you read the desire on his features, like one would read a sheet music. Unsure at first, focusing, until the language of music took over you.
At least, that was how it worked for you.
“I want you,” you breathed in the space between you, and he nodded.
“I know.” He laughed, looking around. “You made me get in this car for that reason, didn’t you?”
You barely remembered. All you knew was that you never wanted to exit the safety of this nest, with him. Of his embrace, and of the fondness and desire in his eyes. Whatever song passion was about to have you dance to, you were ready to jump in, feet first and soul open.
“Eat me out,” you breathlessly begged, and his pink lips parted slightly.
“I’m no contortionist,” he joked, unexpectedly. “Can you move up?”
You laughed, slightly pushing him so he knelt between your legs. “You’re annoying. Yes I can.”
He offered you his secretive smile, and then his hands deftly discarded you of your coat. He took his off too, throwing both on the passenger seat. “Then what are you waiting for?”
You bit your lip, a mischievous glint igniting in your eyes. “I think you should work for it.”
At that his face went fully dark, like all the light had gone out. He looked like the devil incarnate, the fallen angel you had thought to see on the rooftop of the hotel some weeks ago.
He said your name like a warning, and it made your head cock to the side. “Aren’t you a good boy? I think I remember you liked me ordering you around last time.”
In truth, you weren’t even sure he had. Just felt like being a brat, and you had always been more on the dominant side anyway.
“As I said,” he murmured, and he bent down to ravish another kiss on your lips, “my goal is to make you feel good. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
That was enough for you, and you quickly moved up until your back was resting against the car door. He took off your shoes, before pulling your dress pants down your legs.
“I’m already dripping,” you purred, hand reaching to palm yourself over your panties. “I think I’ve been dripping all night thinking about you.”
He chuckled. “So you’ve been thinking about fucking me all night?”
“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just wanted to make you wait.”
He furrowed his brows. “Why?”
“Eat me out and I’ll tell you.”
He let out a sound between a groan and a moan, and then he moved back, resting one knee on the ground so he could position himself between your legs. “Fuck, baby.” He looked at your clothed cunt, and then his eyes met yours again. “You really are dripping. I don’t even have to touch you.”
You breathed out an uneven breath. “Touch me.”
It was his turn to smirk, though he still obeyed, leaning forward so he could kiss your entrance over your panties. “Like this?”
“You’re a brat,” you said.
“Maybe.”
“Fucking eat me out, Min Yoongi, before I decide not to have sex with you tonight.”
Emboldened, he said, “As if you’d step away now.”
This time, he sucked on your clit, eyes never leaving yours. The devil incarnate indeed. Though, it seemed he had teased you enough, because he pulled your panties to the side, and his tongue dove once between your folds.
“You taste so good,” he praised.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, and then he lapped at your entrance, before swirling his tongue around your clit. “Yeah.”
When his mouth closed around the sensitive nub and he sucked hard, your lips parted on a silent moan, eyes closing tightly with the pleasure that moved through you.
“You know,” he said, barely pulling away. You could feel his hot breath on your pussy, and it only made you ache for him. “This time I want you to come. I’ll make you fucking come until you can’t walk anymore.”
“Jesus, fuck, Yoongi,” you uttered, and you cracked an eye open to see him smirking devilishly between your legs. “You go all romantic on me and then you say that?”
The smirk turned into a smile, and he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Can’t I be romantic and want to make you feel good at the same time?”
“What are you doing talking to me, then?” you asked. “Shouldn’t you be –“
He didn’t let you finish before he dove back in, and this time he dove hard. As if he wanted you to forget every word in the dictionary, every song you had ever sang. All that was left was the sounds of your pants and moans, entwined with the squelching of his fingers when they started slipping in and out of you, following the same relentless pace as his tongue.
Yoongi was too skilled with his tongue. You remembered as much from that night months ago, even though you had been drunk then. You were a little drunk today, but the alcohol had mostly worn off on the way home. So it didn’t surprise you when an orgasm bubbled on the horizon, rushing towards you faster than you had expected it to.
When Yoongi sucked hard, teeth grazing your clit, you lost it, crashing into your high like a car crashing into a wall at eighty miles per hour. You cried out, something that resembled his name, and your hands pulled at his locks, as your hips rocked forward.
He planted a firm hand on your stomach to force you to stay down as he pulled away, resting his head against your inner thigh. His gaze met yours, and he resumed the movements of his fingers.
You hadn’t noticed he had stopped in the first place.
“That felt good?” he asked.
It felt better than good. It felt like a symphony, a complete orchestra guiding you to heaven. A choir, beautiful, angelic.
“Fuck,” you breathed. “Fuck it did.”
He smirked, content, as he fingered you, slowly. “That was only the first one.”
“We’re going to have to work on you too,” you purred. “I want to see you come.”
Your words shut him up, as he inhaled sharply, lust burning so bright in his pupils you thought he might combust in front of you. Yet, he pressed into that sweet spot inside of you, arching his fingers so he could play with it until you were seeing stars again.
You stopped him before he could make you come. Mostly because, when you squirted, you were done for after. You weren’t ready to be done tonight.
“Let’s go up to your condo,” you suggested as he threw you a questioning glance. “As much as fucking in a car’s hot, I’d prefer the comfort of your bed.”
“Your wish is my command,” he agreed, and he sucked a hickey on your inner thigh before pulling his fingers out of you. He put your panties back in place gently, and his eyes fell to his fingers. You both watched as he spread them, strings of your juice connecting the digits still. “Fuck, look at this.”
“That’s all because of you,” you praised. “A good fucking boy.”
He chuckled, wetting his lips. “Always, for you.”
He licked at his fingers, as if to clean them, before he seemed to consider something else. When he brought them closer to your mouth, you huffed a moan before wrapping your lips around the digits, sucking as your tongue cleaned them. His breathing turned a little ragged, and he looked as if he was seconds away from fucking you right then and there when you pulled away with a satisfying pop.
“Everything okay?” you asked, teasingly.
“The elevator ride is going to be so long,” he muttered, and you let out a laugh as you pulled your pants up your legs.
He handed you your shoes, and you quickly put them back on as he got out of the car, grabbing the coats on the passenger seat. It took you a few seconds, but soon enough, you were out too, ready to go up.
Yoongi wasn’t wrong. Just waiting for the elevator took forever, and when you were encased in it, you both exchanged a look so full of longing you jumped on him, grabbing his collar so you could pull him into a heated kiss. He pushed you against the wall, sucking on your bottom lip as the elevator moved up, ever so slowly.
It felt like time was stretching, turning to infinity, and he was sucking a hickey on your neck by the time the elevator came to a halt, doors sliding open on his level.
You walked out, hot and bothered, making your way to his door. He dialed the code in, pushed the door open, and as soon as it was closed, he was on you again, pressing you against the door. He must have dropped the coats on the floor, because his hands held your cheeks as he kissed you stupid, toying with your mouth with that wicked tongue of his.
“Yoongi,” you moaned in his mouth, and he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours.
You both breathed raggedly for a few seconds, and then he grabbed your hand, moving it to where his dick pressed against his pants.
“You got me so fucking horny,” he said, and he chuckled, low sound that reverberated through every inch of you. “I’m so fucking hard and you haven’t even touched me yet.”
“Should I suck your dick?” you asked. “I feel like you’d be coming down my throat in no time.”
He moaned as you palmed it harder, and he grinded his hips, seeking friction. “Whatever you want, baby.”
“Whatever?” you asked, and you let out a small dangerous laugh. “So if I ask you to fuck my ass you would.”
It wasn’t that you wanted that. You just knew he was wrapped around your finger, ready to obey your every command. The way his dick twitched under your hand told you so, and he let out a breathy sound.
“You like that?” he asked.
You captured his lips in a kiss, and once you pulled away, you said, “It could be fun. But I’d rather have you fuck my pussy tonight.”
He nodded against you, before straightening. His gaze drank you in for a few seconds, and you admired his swollen lips. They looked even prettier like this, especially knowing that you were the cause of it. That your ministrations made him look like this, like he was minutes away from losing it.
You were going to make sure he did. But first, you wanted to make your way to his room. Because as much as you wanted him, you weren’t an animal. You could wait a moment longer.
“Let’s go to your room,” you told him. “Then you can fuck me.”
“Alright,” he said, and he added your name like a sinful melody. “You think you can come around my dick?”
“Fill me up and we’ll see.”
He let out a small whiny moan, and then you pushed him away so you could take off your shoes. He kicked his off too, a little awkwardly, and a moment later you were following him up the stairs, both of you ignoring the barking of his dog.
Yoongi had taken to caging Holly in the kitchen, mostly because he didn’t want the little dog to pee on the carpet of the living room once more. You both ignored the dog, and you would have felt a little guilty had he not thrown you a lustful look over his shoulder.
“I’ll fill you up just fine, if that’s what you want,” he said, in response to what you had said earlier. “I’ll fill you up and watch you drip with my cum after.”
Your mouth fell open, mostly because you were surprised at his crude words.
“You know, I thought you’re more of a sub,” you admitted, and you chuckled. “Seems getting you horny makes you a brat too, uh?”
“Seems you make me a brat,” he replied, and he chuckled too, slightly shaking his head. “I am more of a sub though. Hence why I’ll do whatever the fuck you want.”
You reached his room, and you cocked your head to the side as he paused in the doorway, turning to look at him.
“Take off your clothes.”
If he was surprised by your command, he didn’t let it show. He instead obeyed, slowly unbuttoning the pale nude colored dress shirt he was wearing.
Some Valentino dress shirt he had worn in Paris, that you had told him you loved too much for him not to wear again. He had taken to wearing it more often than not, especially when it was just the two of you.
The shirt fell softly to the ground, slowly. It puddled at his feet, and he cocked his head to the side as your eyes roamed his figure. Barely stopping on the scars on his shoulder, scars you promised yourself you’d kiss later, when the sins had come to completion.
He took his time to rid himself of his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. They burned with desire, so much so that you thought you had caught fire. You weren’t sure you were hearing an angelic choir anymore – you rather thought you had descended straight to Hell, and you were more than okay with it.
The pants fell at his ankles, and he stepped out, blinking once. “Should I take this off too?” he asked, thumbs hooking in his underwear.
“That and the socks,” you said, nodding your head.
He bit his lip, wet it, and then the boxers joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. He bent down, took off the socks, and then he was standing again, in his full naked glory, hard dick standing proud against his stomach. You took a step closer, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, and you pressed a kiss on his jaw.
“Were you good enough for me to suck you a little?” you asked. You nipped at the skin of his neck, and he let out a soft moan. “I’ll suck you if you promise you won’t come.”
He laughed, and he sounded a little scared, but infinitely turned on. “I’ll try.”
You held his dick tighter. “You’re going to have to do better than try.”
He didn’t reply, just surveyed you with his dark lustful eyes, as you dropped to your knees. As if he needed all his focus on not coming, even as he drank in the sight of you on your knees for him. Already licking your lips, remembering just how good he tasted then.
He tasted just as good today. Maybe even a little more, because he was yours, and that had to account for something. He tasted like ambrosia, like the wine of the gods. His dick was rock hard in your mouth, and his eyes shut as soon as you started working on him.
Probably because, if he was to look at you for a moment longer, he was going to come. He really was wrapped around your fingers again, and so you offered the best you had to offer. And when his breathing turned so ragged you were pretty sure he was about to lose his fight against his orgasm, you pulled away.
It looked like it pained him, but when you got up and captured his lips in yet another languid kiss, he kissed you back with a fervor you almost weren’t expecting. It made your head spin, until you were a moaning mess.
Or maybe that was because he had sunk two fingers inside of you again, sliding his hand in your pants, and he was fucking you like that.
“You’re so,” he started, and he hissed as you bit at his neck, “so wet. I’m going to slide right in.”
You rested your head against his shoulder as his fingers kept fucking you, so quickly your legs started trembling. You grabbed his wrist, trying to slow him down, but if there was a thing about Min Yoongi that you were now realizing, it was that he was just as skilled with his fingers than with his mouth.
“Fuck,” you hissed against his shoulder. “Stop, I want you to fuck me.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss on your temple, and his digits left you empty. He teased your clit for a moment, and your teeth sunk in his skin in retaliation. He cursed under his breath, but he finally slid his hand out of your pants, bringing it up to his mouth to clean himself.
You didn’t move as he did so, mostly because your legs still felt infinitely weak. You only moved when he grabbed your shoulders gently, pushing you away just enough for you to meet his gaze.
“You want me to fuck you?” he teased, and you clenched your jaw.
As you loosened it, your tongue poked at your cheek and your eyes turned dark. Lustful, sinful. Vengeful. “I didn’t tell you you could finger me like this, did I?”
He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You seemed to enjoy it.”
You grabbed his balls, squeezing lightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to have him tense next to you. “Oh, I enjoyed plenty. Now, why don’t you get the clothes off of me?”
He smirked, nodding against you, and then he pulled away. His large skilled hands quickly rid you of your clothing, and soon enough you were standing naked next to him.
“Should I fuck you now?” he asked, with that same bratty attitude he was just now getting.
“Bed,” you ordered. “I’ll fuck myself on you.”
“You want to use me?”
You captured his lips in a kiss, sucking on his tongue when it slid in your mouth. “I will use you.”
At that he gulped, but it was enough to convince him to obey. He finally moved towards the bed, laying down on the pillowy softness of his mattress, hands propped behind his head. He surveyed you carefully as you stalked closer, though you aimed for his night table first.
“Is that where you keep your condoms?” you asked.
He seemed scared for a time, sitting up quickly with a widened gaze. “Let me get that for you.”
You paused, hand on the knob of the drawer. “Got something to hide?”
He gulped, seemingly searching for words. His tongue darted on his pink lips, and then he let out a nervous chuckle. “Not really.”
“Okay?” you said, cocking your head to the side. “So I can open this?”
He breathed in, holding his breath as he nodded.
It wasn’t anything embarrassing, if you were honest. All you found in the drawer were condoms, lube and a pair of handcuffs. At least that was what you thought at first glance. You met his gaze, grabbing the handcuffs. Though your fingers grazed something else, and you shot a confused look to the drawer.
That was when you noticed the black anal plug. Your lips parted, and your gaze met Yoongi’s once more.
“So you do like anal play, do you?” you breathed out.
He looked away from you, though a smirk played on his lips. With that deep, scratchy voice of his, he said, “Can’t say that I don’t.”
You let go of the handcuffs, grabbing the anal plug instead. “You use that on yourself?” you asked, raising it in the space between you.
“Both me and my partners,” he replied truthfully.
You grabbed the lube, and then made your way to the bed. “I’ve never had an anal plug in before,” you admitted. “Now you’ve got my curiosity piqued.”
He laughed, and it wasn’t horny or anything of the sorts. Just sweet. “You want to try?”
The dominant side of you wanted you to say you’d rather put it in him, but there was something about the unknown that made your breath hitch in your throat. Because you did want to know.
You put the plug and lube on the bed, before sitting next to him. He put a large hand on your thigh, running it up and down leaving goosebumps behind. He was looking at you expectantly, and you bit your lip, finally nodding your head yes.
“I’d love to try.”
He leaned closer, pecking your lips once in a familiar gesture before motioning to his bed. “I’d recommend getting on all fours. Face-first in the pillows.”
“What makes you think you can order me around, mmh?” you purred.
His hand gently cupped your neck, skilled fingers immediately finding the arteries. He didn’t choke you right away, instead forcing you to tilt your head back. He sucked a hickey on your jaw, and you hissed, trying to move away, but he was firmly holding you into place.
“The fact you want me to use my toys on you, maybe?”
The fucking brat.
You rarely were silenced, when it came to sex, but it seemed Yoongi had found how to render you mute.
He smirked, and then he choked you, mouth finding yours in yet another hot, languid kiss that left your mind spinning. Or maybe that was the absence of a blood flow to your head. All you could do was reach between you, aiming blindly for his dick. He was rock hard, and you jerked him off slowly, mostly because you were too focused on the kiss. On every swipe of his tongue, on every grunt he emitted.
When he pulled away, fingers finally letting go of your neck, you breathed in shakily.
“I guess I’ll get on all fours then,” you said.
It must have sounded funny, because Yoongi laughed, pecking your forehead. “Only if you’re comfortable.”
Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek once more, and you slightly shook your head. “You really are going to be the death of me.”
“Just trying to make you feel good,” he said, face falling fully serious. Serious and dark, like he was about to ruin you. And you liked the switch in dynamics, even though you had always been more of a dom yourself.
You positioned yourself, ass up and face down in the pillows. Yoongi kneeled behind you, and you heard more than you saw when he uncapped the lube bottle. You startled a little when the first drop of cold liquid hit your asshole, but when Yoongi started rubbing it around, your eyes shut and you focused on the feeling.
Though new and foreign, it was a pleasurable feeling, one that made your pussy clench around nothing. Especially as Yoongi pushed against the tight ring of muscle, dipping his thumb inside.
“You think your virgin ass can take it?” he asked.
He moved his thumb out, then in again, slowly. You gulped, eyes still tightly squeezed shut. “I can take it for you.”
He remained silent, and you cracked an eye open to look at him. His cheeks and his upper chest were flushed red, and his gaze dripped with lust for you. You wanted to swim in the lust, to drown in it. No matter what it took.
His thumb slid out, replaced by a finger. A second later, another finger joined, and you let out a breathy sound. Gazes still connected, your mind zeroed in on him fingering your ass, slowly. When he figured you were ready enough, which he probably understood by the breathy sounds and moans falling from your mouth, Yoongi’s digits left you empty. They were soon replaced by the plug that he lightly pressed against the ring of muscle, never pushing in.
“It’s likely to hurt,” he warned you. “You really don’t have to do this.”
“You’d rather me put it in your ass?” you said through gritted teeth.
He bent down, pressing a kiss on your cheek before he straightened again. “I’ve done it countless times before, I’m a lot more used to it than you.”
“Just put it in, Yoongi,” you said, voice low.
He smirked, and when he started pushing in, you clenched your hands in fists, grabbing at the comforter of his bed. He was right – it hurt. But you wanted to show him you could take it, wanted to prove you could, and so you kept the pained whimper in. Kept your gaze connected to his, trying to keep your face neutral too.
It took a moment, and Yoongi had to pull it out a couple of times before he actually managed to get it all the way in, but a few minutes later, the anal plug was fully embedded into you, making you feel full in a whole new way.
“How’s that feel?” he asked, large hands gently caressing your ass.
“Full,” you replied.
He laughed. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet.”
The thought that he was going to fuck you, while you were impaled by his anal plug… it had a moan bubble in your throat, unexpectedly. “Fuck, Yoongi.”
“Should I handcuff you too?”
Now, you needed to regain control. So you straightened, turning towards him. “I’ll cuff you. Lie down.”
He seemed surprised by the new switch in dynamics, but he still complied, lying down on his back as you fished the handcuffs out of his night table. You also grabbed a condom, and then you moved back to his side.
The key to the handcuffs currently was in the lock, and you took it out, eyeing it pensively. “Should I hide this?” you asked, gaze darting to Yoongi.
He gulped, turning his head to the side to regard you. His hair fell on his forehead, and you put the condom down so you could brush it away.
“Just put it on the night table, we don’t want to lose it.”
You tutted, but you still did as told, knowing that it would be a stupid thing to throw it somewhere in the room. You then gently grabbed one of Yoongi’s wrists, cuffing it. As you pulled his arm over his head, he himself brought his other wrist to you, and you imprisoned it too. You made sure it wasn’t too tight, before sitting back on your heels. It made the anal plug move inside of you, and you let out an unexpected moan.
His eyes widened at the sound, and you leaned down to steal a kiss on his lips.
“Now,” you said once you straightened. “Let me put this on.”
You grabbed the foil package, tearing it open to fish the condom out of it. Yoongi was still watching you carefully, awaiting your next move. You grabbed the base of his cock, before lazily stroking it. He gulped, lips parting slightly.
“You think you’re ready?”
He chuckled, glancing down to his dick. “Pretty sure I am.”
You smirked, cocking your head to the side, though you were done being a tease. You wanted to feel him, to have him inside of you. So you rolled the condom on with an expert hand before climbing on his lap. Your hands landed on his chest, and you gently ran them down, along his ribs, and then back up to settle around his neck.
His pretty eyes just watched, and suddenly warmth bubbled inside of you. Not arousal, but really the kind of warmth only looking at a lover can bring out of someone. You stilled, meeting his gaze, and you wondered if he could see the adoration filling your eyes.
He must have, because he said, “I am going to fall so hard for you.”
You bent down, and it was with lips connected that Yoongi pushed inside of you, slowly. It hurt, stretched and burned, with the anal plug, so he was gentle. He was soft, and when he was fully embedded in you, you pulled away. Just enough to meet his gaze, and see the passion lighting up the depths of his pupils.
“Gosh, Yoongi,” you breathed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Feelings swelled in your chest. Like wind catching in the sails of a boat, until you felt yourself rushing forward. Towards him, finally meeting him. Finally finding the comfort that was meant to be yours. You kissed him again then, slowly, languidly. Passionately, tracing a melody of love and desire on his lips. One he reciprocated, and his cuffed hands moved until his arms were wrapped around you, trapping you into place.
He slowly fucked up into you, lips never faltering against your mouth. He swallowed every little breathy sounds you let out, grunted on your lips until it seemed passion gained over love, and his pace increased. It increased until he was pounding into you, and it was his turn to grunt and moan against your lips.
You hid your face in the crook of his neck, and he held you tighter, closer, crushing all of you against him. When his movements grew sloppy, you tried to pull away, but his cuffed hands kept you into place.
He chuckled, sucking on your shoulder. “You’re stuck here, baby.”
“I just want to fuck myself on you,” you whined.
He sighed. “I like having you close.”
The way he said it made you bite at his neck. “I want you to fucking come, Yoongi. I want to look you in the eye while you come.”
He moaned, and to your surprise he let you go, hands going back over his head. You straightened, eyes finding his, and his ragged breathing told you enough – he was going to come in no time. So you started moving, up and down, one hand massaging your breast while the other settled on his neck again.
“Faster,” he begged, eyes fluttering shut.
“Look at me,” you commanded.
He hissed, though his gaze found yours. He looked desperate, under you like this, and you smirked, tilting your head to the side. You still started going faster, and soon enough your second hand settled on his shoulder to give you better leverage.
Yoongi was close. You could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open, mind swimming in ecstasy as his high neared the horizon. You wondered how long he’d fight it – how long he’d keep his sinful gaze on you, just wanting to please you.
He moaned, loud, jaw going slack. Still, you didn’t feel the telltale twitch of his dick inside of you, telling you that he had yet to lose it. So you started choking him, moaning his name when his hips started moving up, meeting yours halfway. The sound of skin slapping on skin became louder, and a second later he cursed, loud and clear. His hands flew towards you, and you grabbed at the chain linking his two wrists, picking up the pace as he released inside of you.
Something about the twitch of his dick had you racing towards another orgasm, and you clenched around him. He probably figured what it meant, because he forced you to lean down, wrapping his cuffed hands around you. Holding you close, he fucked into you, rough. The feeling, combined with the anal plug, had you soaring up to the sky, and you came blindly, vision turning fully white.
He milked your orgasm, as it kept going on and on. You were a moaning mess, and his grunts entwined with your sounds until all that was left was you and him, breathing raggedly. You rested your forehead against his, and he kept you close as you came down from the high that sex with him consisted of.
He pulled out of you when your heart had finally calmed down in your chest, and you pulled away just enough to be able to look him in the eye, his cuffed hands keeping you from moving too far.
“Holy shit,” you said, and he laughed, softly.
“Yeah.” He pulled you down to press a kiss on your lips, before moving his hands over his head once more. “That was amazing.”
“Why did we wait?” you asked.
He laughed again. “I would wait for you for eternity.”
“You’re so cheesy, Min Yoongi,” you teased him, and you bent to peck his nose.
He smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m just happy.”
“Your happiness is a beautiful sight to see.”
There was a silence, of you gazing at each other. And you thought, you thought if the loneliness was meant to lead to this moment, right now, you’d do it all over again.
Because happiness, it really was a beautiful sight to see.
*****
You watched Yoongi carefully, as he read the lyrics of your song. You had finally managed to finish it, a month into the new year. It led somewhere else than you had first wanted it to, but you thought it was fitting.
You could only hope that he agreed with you.
You blinked as time stretched, with him just reading. You followed his eyes as they skimmed the paper, going back to some line once in a while. You didn’t know if it was because of disapproval, or because he liked your turn of phrase. It was hard to tell, because professional Yoongi was sitting across from you.
Professional Yoongi didn’t let his emotions show on his face.
Holly barked somewhere on your left, startling you. While Yoongi read, you went to the dog, petting it with clammy hands. Because the silence meant nothing good, right? He probably didn’t like the song.
Anxiety was starting to make you spiral when Yoongi said, “Wow.”
Relief flooded through you as you glanced at him. “What do you think?”
“Is this… it’s about us.”
You nibbled at your lower lip. “It is.”
He murmured your name, right as you straightened to walk back to where he was sitting, on the couch. You sat next to him, holding his gaze.
“Never thought I’d be someone’s muse someday.”
You threw him a no-bullshit look. “You are the muse of a lot of people, Yoongi.”
He smirked wickedly. “Am I?”
You said nothing, because really there was nothing to say. He just smiled, that gummy smile of his, and your heart swelled with fondness.
“You’re going to release this?” he asked.
You wet your lips, nodding your head. “I have an idea for a melody, but I thought you… maybe you could help?”
His eyes sparkled. “I have something that could work.”
He grabbed your hand, jumping to his feet to pull you behind him, towards his studio. Halfway up the stairs, you tugged on his hand, trying to gain his attention.
“What?” he asked softly.
“I want to release it with the song.”
He stopped walking, and you almost bumped into him.
“The song song?”
You nodded. “I was thinking of an EP? I have two other songs I used to play when I went busking that I never recorded. I thought, why not record and release everything together?”
His face split into a smile once again, and he pulled you in his chest. You almost fell, and it made the both of you laugh, until you finally started walking up the stairs again.
“It’s a good idea,” he said. “It’s going to be perfect.”
You rolled your eyes, because you doubted that it’d be perfect, but with Yoongi helping you, you knew it’d be good. And good was enough for you. Good was smiles and warmth and the flush of his cheeks whenever you complimented him.
Min Yoongi was good, in all the ways that mattered. He was good to you, and good to the world around him. He was good at what he did, producing a melody for you that resonated with your soul, with the lyrics you had put down on the paper. Lyrics that came back to your mind, as you watched him working on his computer, a focused look on his features.
In the land where no one knows my name
I seek a path that leads to dreams
Bright lights and Heaven’s door
I knock and scream at them, open
In a world where no one knows my name
I can almost hear Heaven’s choirs
You’d think they’d ring true and high
But I think they’re the devil in disguise
They push me out and in the mud
I beg on my knees, they don’t hear me
In the land where no one knows my name
I’m the scraps that you’ve thrown away
They say one day I’ll understand
But I’ll be the one to make the rules now ay
It starts out slowly
Your light and darkness, everything
Success comes and goes, and I
If I make the rules, then I’ll make them bleed
Haters, they think they know
But ignorance is their song
They had me on my knees
Now I watch them beg, scream
I’ll never fucking care for them
In the land where no one knew my name
Now I look down to the world
And I think they live in hell
In the land where no one knew my name
I was no one, I was scraps and mud
The mud’s taken shape now
It screams of your name, more than mine
I was thrown to hell, burned eternity
But I made the rules, right?
If hell is for the lonely people
Then I think we’ve found each other
They brought me down when they could ay
Now I stand tall and proud
Who cares about Heaven, about the choirs
When you stand next to me
They thought they could bring me down
I laugh and say, “Watch them try”
But can they, when I’ve got you
We made the rules and now we reign
Over this hell of lonely people
And heavy is the crown, yeah
But light is the heart,
With you, a thousand eternities
Won’t be enough to bring us down
In the land where no one knew my name
Still you knew it
And isn’t that all that matters?
In the hours of darkness
Down in the mud
You said my name and I looked up
If hell is a lonely place
Then maybe you’re my heaven
And maybe, maybe you had always been meant to love Min Yoongi. Reigning over your little world, with him.
That night, you laid in bed entwined with him, listening to his deep breathing as he slept the night away. Silver light from the moon outside lit up his features, and you took a moment to admire him. To admire his softness, and the flutter of his eyelids whenever he moved in his sleep.
He looked like a prince, regal, eternal, lying next to you like this. His steady breathing was comfort, and his beauty was awe. It was unbelievable that he was yours, that he was to be by your side from now on and until the end.
Loneliness was a distant song, when Min Yoongi was next to you. And you knew he wasn’t to go, not anymore. Because, no matter how unbelievable it was, Yoongi was truly meant to reign over the world, with you.
So now you’d reign.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
Woooow I hope we enjoyed this! I was really excited to post this after The Forgotten Spaces. What did we think?
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.
→ pairing: yoongi x f!reader
→ warnings: yoongi and reader are both in their mid-thirties. mentions of divorce, abuse, restraining orders, custody arrangements, etc. reader and yoongi are both lawyers. the whole thing takes place in a bar. a reference to mandatory enlistment. jeongguk is a shithead. reader is down bad for yoongi. ambiguous ending, but i like to think they get together in the end. nothing spicy happens, but MINORS DNI.
→ word count: 2.8k
→ note: this was written for @yoongicatagenda as part of my donation drabble drive to support local orgs in the wake of the los angeles wildfires. thank you so much my love for donating to pasadena humane and sending in a request! i must apologize, i didn't quite hit every note in your request... but i hope you like it, anyway!! (the donation requests are still open until further notice, so please feel free to donate and send in requests!)
REQUEST: "Yoongi and reader are both hot shot divorce lawyers and rivals. Enemies to lovers. They have just wrapped up a case in court. Yoongi represented the husband, reader represented the wife. One of them is drinking in a bar after leaving court. The other walks in. They bicker and end up drinking together, arguing about their case and love and marriage etc and end up hooking up."
——
There's only one other person wearing a suit at this bar.
Honestly, there are only a few other people milling about as is. Wednesday isn't exactly the prime evening for a night on the town—not in this cesspool of capitalism and productivity, anyway—so there are actually empty spots at the bar and booths in the corner. You slump into one of them with your eyes closed, “dry clean only” skirt skidding against the dull vinyl seat.
The part-timer materializes tableside, pen in hand. You've never been able to tell if she's 20 or 40. "Ready to order." Not a question.
You pretend to glance over the menu. "The usual, please."
The part-timer just blinks at you.
"Tough crowd." You hand her the menu. "Toki highball and haemul pajeon. Extra crisp."
It's been years since you've smoked, having kicked the habit back in law school—the prices of cigarettes kept climbing, while your income had plummeted from an already pathetic sum to nothing outright. Still, it's nights like this one that make you itch for a cigarette, for that salty-sweet ash to blacken your lungs and flood your veins.
All in all, the day went fairly well. Cases like today's are a breeze—no abuse, no manipulation, no minor children. Both parties had submitted nearly identical dissolution forms to the court, and the proceedings had simply been a rubber stamp. In the end, your client walked away with, all things considered, a reasonable sum—half of the profits of their sold house, most of the shared belongings she wanted, a decent amount of spousal support. No restraining orders, no messy custody schedules, no last-ditch arguments over keeping the house or his grandmother's diamond-bezeled watch or her engagement ring. Save a few tears shed on the courthouse steps, your client walked away a happy customer.
And yet... cases like today's also make you wonder what the point of any of it is. It's almost too clichéd to even think about—the fact that you're a family law attorney in your mid-thirties with no spouse or children of her own, or even a long-term partner (or a partner, period). You've built a career out of breaking marriages and ripping families apart, and all of it has soured you on the concept of true love. At least in those cases that make you want to rip your hair out and castrate opposing counsel with a rusty thumbtack, you're fueled by enough indignation and injustice to feel like you're doing something right. Those sleepless nights and explosive meetings are worth it, you think, to put an end to generational trauma.
Cases where both parties simply fell out of love and didn't feel like sharing their lives anymore, though? These just made you sad. Sucked every last bit of hope and optimism out of you. If you had it your way, no one would ever get married—and you'd be out of a job. Maybe you would be doing taxes, instead. Or embalming corpses.
The part-timer comes back round, looking as lively as ever as she plunks your plate and highball glass down on the table.
And a basket of fries.
"I didn't order—"
The part-timer rolls her eyes, as if she'd been anticipating this, and jerks her head to the left. "From that guy at the bar."
You jump a little in your seat, stunned. There's only one person sitting there tonight, in a slightly rumpled black suit with dark hair curling at the nape of his neck. It takes you a minute to realize why he looks so familiar; where you've seen those knobby, pale fingers before.
Christ alive. It's the guy from court. Your OC, the attorney who had represented your client's ex-husband. He wasn't a bad guy—had no reason to be, in a cookie-cutter, beginner mode case like this. He'd even held open the courtroom door for you.
Intrigued, you turn back to the part-timer. "Hey, mind if I—"
"Yeah, yeah," she snaps, flapping her hand toward the empty row of barstools.
She doesn't have to tell you twice. You gather up your plates and drink and walk over to the bar. A perfectly respectable, one-barstool space away from your OC, who is no longer your OC but a colleague. Maybe he commiserates.
"Hi," you say, sticking out your hand. "I'm Y/N. Thanks for the fries."
He starts, like he didn't hear you approach. Takes your hand, too, a beat too late. "Hi. Min Yoongi. And, um, you're welcome."
His other hand curves around a sweating glass of whiskey. In front of him is an open manila folder, stuffed with photocopied filings and photographs and letters with "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped across the top. A familiar sight. You glance back up at him. He's plainly exhausted, both of you are, but it still sinks in that he's got a nice face. A bit closed-off, perhaps, but kind. You pride yourself on your ability to read people, and you can tell that he's a good one. Free french fries aside.
Speaking of which—
"How did you know I like fries?" you ask.
He blinks back at you, before a tiny smile quirks up one side of his mouth. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Fair point." You slide your haemul pajeon between you and pick an extra pair of chopsticks out of the metal container. "Here. I can never finish all of this."
"Oh, no, I'm—"
"Come on." You set the chopsticks in front of him. "You bought me fries, and you made my job easy today. And you're still working. It's the least I could do."
He smiles at that. A genuine one, a flash of gum and teeth. "Thanks."
"I thought I'd met all of the divorce attorneys in Seongnam," you remark, spearing a piece of pajeon for yourself. It's true—Seongnam isn't huge, as far as cities go, and within the tiny legal community, the family law community is even smaller. In a country infamous for its social taboos, there isn't a ton of family law business to go around. You run into the same faces over and over, usually in Judge Han's courtroom. Have practically memorized everyone's mailing addresses, their assistants' names.
Yoongi closes his case file. "I'm actually a finance attorney. Credit agreements, acquisition financings. That kind of stuff."
"Huh." You consider this. "What brings you to divorce court, then?"
"Stepping in. Favor for a friend."
"Ah." You bump your glass against his before taking a long gulp. "Well, you could have fooled me. You did great in there."
"Well, the case was pretty straightforward," Yoongi answers modestly. You do your level best to focus on what he's saying. Not on his milky skin, or the fine threads of silver in his hair, or the notable absence of a ring on his left hand. "No squabbling over assets and liabilities, no kids to traumatize for life. You did a nice job, too."
You nod, blushing. "Oh. Well, thanks. Kind of depressing though, don't you think?"
He tilts his head. "What do you mean?"
You start dissecting the piece of pajeon on your plate, suddenly afraid to make eye contact. "You know. Ending a marriage. Two people fall in love, they decide to make a lifelong commitment in front of their friends and family, they move in together, build a life together... and then, one day, they decide they're not in love anymore. They decide to stop trying." You shrug, cupping your hands around your drink. "It's a bit of a downer, being in the business of breaking people up."
Kwon Sujin and Baek Hancheol had been married for thirty years when they called it quits. It wasn't your business to know why—whether she cheated or he did, your job was to wade into the legal complexities and make sense of it all. Unless it involved fighting for custody or alimony, the sordid details were none of your business.
And yet, the whole thing had been terribly clean cut. Ms. Kwon, your client, had an extremely short list of must-haves: She wanted to keep the art she'd collected over the course of their marriage, the Hyundai Palisade she drove, and little else. Mr. Baek consented, in exchange for sixty percent of their hefty retirement savings and Hyundai Genesis. Neither of their faces betrayed emotion as they signed and sealed the papers. They even shared a quick embrace outside of the courthouse, once all was said and done.
Thirty years of marriage. Thirty years of living with someone, grocery shopping with them, raising a child with them. Watching them cry, watching them laugh, watching their hair gray and their skin soften, knowing them inside-out and outside-in, knowing them better than they know themselves—all of it over in what felt like an instant. The person you once thought you'd die with gradually becoming a stranger, until the final decision from the court snipped whatever threads kept you tethered together. Slowly, and then all at once.
Yoongi nods, slotting his chin between his thumb and index finger. "That's true. But it's freeing, too. People change all the time. There's really no use in two people staying committed to one another when they feel like they'd be better off alone."
"That's so sad, though," you sigh. "What drives someone to that point? At what point do you start thinking that the companionship isn't worth it, that even co-existing is too much? They didn't seem like they hated each other, right?"
Yoongi hums in understanding. The sound is deep, rough—and so, so hot. You turn away, hoping he doesn't catch the blush working its way up your neck. You might be jaded, but you're unfortunately not immune to whatever effect men still have on you. God help you.
After a while, he speaks again. "I guess it's the possibility of... more. They could have gone on like that until they were holding hands in a nursing home, sure. But they were only 58—not too old to start over. Not too old to imagine something greater. It's an act of hope, really, to get a divorce at that age. They're not giving up—not on themselves, anyway." He drops his eyes to his closed case file, suddenly shy. "At least... that's why I did it."
It takes a second for it to click. When it does, all your brilliant, educated mind can come up with is, "Oh."
The two of you sit in embarrassed silence for a bit, taking tandem sips of your drinks. He seems a bit embarrassed to have shared so much of himself at once; you feel like you've pried too deep, even though he offered that information voluntarily. For a man who seemed so taciturn in court, he seems much more open now—almost like a friend, instead of someone you've just met.
You decide not to be awkward about it. "Want to tell me about it?"
"Not much to tell." He flags down the bartender, who refills his whiskey without a word. Huh. You wonder if he's a regular here—if you've seen him around before, and you just never noticed. "We married young, really young. I was 21 and scared shitless of losing her and didn't know any better. But we were 21, and by the time I came back from my mandatory enlistment I realized we'd grown into different people. The 25-year-old version of her was unrecognizable to me, just as I'm sure the 26-year-old version of me was unrecognizable to her. So we called it quits."
"Hmm." You don't know what to say. I'm sorry doesn't feel appropriate, but neither does I'm happy for you.
"Tell me more about you, byeonhosanim." He grins again. You wonder if he knows the effect it has on people—on you, specifically. "If this work depresses you so much, why do it?"
Great question. You murmur a thanks when the bartender drops off another basket of fries that you hadn't ordered, and wonder if he's just feeling generous tonight. "I don't know. I was 25 and fresh out of law school, and the first thing I did was commercial lit in Seoul. You know—mass torts, employment, white collar stuff. I was young and stupid and nothing mattered to me except that shiny paycheck, so I sold my soul off to a massive firm and worked there for a few years. Then I was 28, and one day I was at the office at midnight, writing a brief so that a gigantic, filthy rich conglomerate could keep twenty billion won instead of just paying it to a bunch of employees. As compensation for unfair working conditions, no less."
You bite down on the inside of your cheek, tension seizing your muscles at the memory alone.
"And... I don't know. I didn't have it in me. I quit the next morning, and I was wandering around Seongnam wondering how I'd break the news to my mother when I saw this fucking bus stop ad for a local family law office. I called and asked for a job on a whim, but... here I am, six years later.
"I don't hate the work, you know? It's a bit depressing when I really think about it, but I work with a ton of women. And mothers. I help get them out of tough situations, help kids grow up in happier households. And in those moments, I feel like the work is really worthwhile. It's just... days like today." You huff out a laugh, embarrassed. "Just too much time to think when I'm not drilling opposing counsel, I guess."
He nods. "No, I get it." His voice drops much lower, so low that you almost miss it, when he says, "I think the work you're doing is amazing, for what it's worth."
You blush again, suddenly hyperaware of everything. How good he looks in a suit, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his tongue rolls over his lower lip. How, at some point, the two of you started leaning closer, and closer, until the barstool separating the two of you is practically nonexistent.
"You have, um." He brings a hand up to the corner of your mouth and brushes your lower lip with his thumb. Entirely too casual. Like the two of you haven't just properly met. "Crumb, or something."
"Thanks," you breathe, your eyes dropping to his lips. For one insane, fleeting second, you think that he might kiss you. "I, uh, appreciate it."
"Yeah." He swallows, dropping his hand, then glances at his watch. "Shit, I hate to do this, but I actually have to get going. Have an early meeting tomorrow."
You try not to visibly deflate as you pull back, fixing your face with your best client-service smile. "Oh, yeah, of course," you say, watching him stand up and tuck his case file back into a messenger bag. "Don't let me keep you."
Because of course. You haven't been looked at twice—much less kissed—in the last five years. Why on earth would that dry spell be broken on one of the most emotionally draining work days of your life, in a rundown pub just blocks from the local courthouse, by one of the most beautiful men you've ever seen? Delusional, you scold yourself, turning back to your half-eaten pajeon.
A scoff from behind the bar shakes you out of your reverie.
"Yoongi hyung," the bartender says. Reproachfully, but with the poorly concealed amusement of an owner scolding his puppy. “Are you being serious?”
Ah. So they know each other.
Yoongi clicks his tongue, like a snappy grandmother. “What?”
The bartender huffs a laugh, nodding toward you. “She’s pretty, and obviously smart, and both of you were having a good time. Are you really just going to—“
“That’s enough, Jeongguk,” Yoongi snaps.
“What?” Jeongguk whines back, chin lifting up. He seemed intimidating before, all muscles and tattoos, but now he just looks remarkably like a child throwing a tantrum. “Am I wrong?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake.” He then turns to you and sighs, lowering his voice. “Sorry about that. He’s a pain in the ass.”
“Hey!”
You press your lips together to keep from laughing. “No worries.”
He smiles, then twists his lips ruefully. “I really do have to run tonight. But, uh….”
He slides something onto the bar, and when he lifts his hand you see that it’s a business card.
Min Yoongi. Law Offices of Min, Chang & Rhee, it reads, right above a mobile phone number. You pick it up. It feels thick. Expensive.
“Call me sometime, yeah?” he says. It's adorable, the way he can’t meet your eyes. “Jeongguk may be a bastard, but he wasn’t wrong.”
“Sure,” you murmur, holding the card like it’s something precious. “Will do.”
Summary: You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.
⋙ pairing: Yoongi x female reader
⋙ rating: 18+
⋙ genre: fwb/kinda enemies to lovers; fluff, smut
⋙ warnings: a misunderstanding, former fuckboy!yoongi, pent-up feelings, very light angsty bits buuuut mostly cute hot stuff, hobi – the frustrated wingman; explicit sexual content: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, making out in a bathroom, oral (f. & m. receiving), hair pulling, grinding, protected sex, dirty talk, teasing, pussy/tiddie slapping (i think), light spanking – yoongi slaps it all, degradation, praising, biting, he comes on her tits, spit, light choking, rough sex, manhandling, cum play, aftercare, some crack dialogue i guess, most of this is smut tbh.
⋙ word count: 10.3k
⋙ a/n: this was supposed to be a 5k pwp 😐 but anything for the BIRTHDAY BOY !! i adore this man, may only good things happen to him ever 😭 here’s my little love letter to min suga. genius. <3 also lowhighkey dedicated to @sugalaritae who brainstormed this w me (came up with this wonderful summary, too !!) and just, ugh – i just love her, she deserves to be spoiled <3
MASTERLIST | WIPS
You should’ve listened to your guts when they told you to stay home this morning. Maybe you could’ve avoided Yoongi’s presence for some longer that way.
Perhaps it’s a sign of growing old and daydreaming of quiet nights in the comfort of your bed – but you don’t think you’ve hated a party this much in quite a long time. You bought a skirt for this. Searched for no-make-up make-up looks for this.
And what you get in return is a room full of strangers you can’t assign names to, walking in circles until you land in front of the clothed table near the garden exit again. You feel out of place. Not in the mood to drink like everyone is.
There’s no one who’ll drive you home – and you’re not going to pay money for a cab just to step into the car drunk, pathetic and wasted in front of yet another stranger.
But it seems that things only worsen when you spot him here. Sporting a black suit jacket over a simple black shirt, silver hair parted in the middle, and a veiny hand holding a glass of water like it’s such a harmless thing to do when you’re–
Min fucking Yoongi.
You’ve successfully dodged his presence all night long, and the fact that he hasn’t noticed nor acknowledged your somewhat obsessive stares so far, fills you with pride. Only that you might be slightly off your observation radar.
Because right at this moment… he’s stepping closer. Undoubtedly to your form. Shit.
Okay.
So much for success and luck.
“So you really won’t even say hi to me, huh?”
You almost forgot what he sounded like. Is his voice smoother now? A little crispier, softer, more mature? No. It’s not as though he grew from a croaky-voiced teen into a full adult. He used to be a college student – and right now, he looks just the same as he did back then.
Only that his hair isn’t pitch black anymore, and it doesn’t hang into his eyes but is brushed aside instead, his forehead on full display.
“Why would I?” you question back, crossing your legs as you lean into the table further.
“Because… we’re familiar with each other?”
“You’re familiar with a lot of people here, though.”
If you’re offending him anyhow, he doesn’t show, but laughs at your words instead. He stares through the blurry transparency of his glass before he looks up to you, asking, “How have you been all this time?”
“I’m okay.” Letting the nervous spot behind your lungs relax, you sigh. He did mean a lot to you once – and he’s being nice to you, at least. “How are you?”
“Bored.” An airy laugh escapes you by surprise, and you press your lips together as you watch his body step closer. “What? It’s such a lame party.”
“Right? What are we celebrating again?”
“Who knows. Their anniversary. Or was it a birthday?”
Despite your initial annoyance and reluctance to near him more than ten feet, his jokes ease the tension. Somehow, he still knows what to say to let your shoulders sink, relaxation flooding your chest as his voice seeps its way through your body and into your mind.
You hate that after three years of distance, his words and smile still don’t fail to ignite a little spark inside you that you thought you let go long ago. Yoongi captured your feelings and your heart the moment he met you, and it seems as if he never loosened his steadfast grip around them.
You wonder what he’s thinking. Wonder if he ever thought of reaching out to you again.
“Still not a fan of parties, are you?” you ask, tilting your head as you watch him shrug his shoulders.
With one hand buried in the pocket of his slacks, he clicks his tongue and reminds you, “We had that in common, though.”
“Explains why this interaction feels so out of place right now.”
“Right? It does, it does.”
One corner of your lips is still curled upwards as he looks at you with a smile so foreign, so familiar; but your heart soon drops, falling endlessly when he says, “I missed you.”
Three simple words throw you off guard, your eyes blinking fast, your stance straightening as your guts twirl and churn. This took a whole new direction very fast. He whispered it, merely letting you know what’s floating in some hidden chamber of his brain.
But god.
Too bold. Too sudden.
You clear your throat, gulping before you take a careful step aside. And before you know it, you’re nodding at him, walking away slowly with your eyes fixated on the staircase on the other side of the room.
Behind you, you hear him call your name, his voice confused and wondering. His steps sound close to yours, and you register one faint word, reminding you of when he still meant flowers and rainbows and not sorrow and gloom.
“Wait.”
Before
“Wait.”
“I’ve been waiting for ten minutes.”
“As if.” Yoongi shifted to his side fully, planting an arm under his face. “Three. Max.”
You held his stare stubbornly. His eyes didn’t intimidate you anymore; you could gaze into them all day and night, if you needed to. You’d refrain from blinking if that was what his challenge consisted of.
You raised a brow, inhaling a deep breath before you asked, “What are you even doing?”
He shrugged, humming for a moment as he grabbed your cheeks and pressed into them, watching your lips purse in consequence as he cooed, “Can a man not appreciate a pretty girl in his own bed?”
“The fuck,” you laughed, pushing his nearing body away from you and into the mattress playfully. In his eyes, you were probably being feisty – in yours, you were trying to hide the loud thumping of your heart. “Here I was thinking you were gonna profess your love for me.”
“As if.”
Ouch. He didn’t have to be that blatantly bold – not that you didn’t expect it. But still.
“Alright,” you chimed, swinging your legs to lift your body and leave the bed for the first time in hours. “Gonna give you a break and get something to drink.”
His hand reached out for you, but you’d long discarded your spot on the mattress, sliding into the slippers he’d provided you. He ruffled his dark locks, yawning for a moment before he said, “I’ll do it.”
“I’m a big girl, and I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t worry. And don’t miss me too much.”
“No promises, kitten.”
Giggling your way out of his room, you flattened your hand over the shirt’s wrinkles that Yoongi had fished out of his closet, the other hand brushing through your knotted hair. Your laughter died when you nearly bumped into another body, flinching and gasping sharply as you heard him exclaim, “Woah, woah.”
As you met his eyes, you greeted him fleetingly, not bothered in the slightest when his gaze wandered from your bare legs to your face. Your body wasn’t covered in much; panties barely hidden, Yoongi’s shirt way too oversized for the both of you, and yet not covering your ass enough.
That’s fine, you thought. Nothing was worse than the one time Hoseok had walked into you when you were actually fucking like rabbits.
His hair was dishevelled, one of his tired eyes squinting shut as if he’d just woken up. Which he probably had – time was a social construct to him, and he enjoyed getting up around noon. He smiled at you, blinding teeth flashing as his freshly-woken-up voice mumbled, “Morn’.”
“How’s it going?”
He looked past you and laughed a little, ignoring your question before he asked back, “Y’all still fucking?”
Hoseok didn’t mean “You’re still going at it after this loud ass night?” – but, “All those months, and you’re still here? With Yoongi no less?”
Because Yoongi wasn’t one to settle on one partner for too long, always searching for new opportunities to get his dick wet. You were sure there had been flings now and then after he’d messed around with you for the first time, too.
That was how he waded through life; that was what he seemed to revel in. That is, until Hoseok had confirmed just a second ago that you were the first and last in ages to stay for longer than a one, meaningless night.
How flattering.
“Why?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows with a tilted head. “Wanna join?”
“And if I said yes?”
With his fingers entangled behind his back, he closed the distance, teasing your shrinking self. You grimaced as your hands settled on his chest, shoving him back before you muttered, “Gross. Shut up.”
“You suggested it!”
You walked away with another delighted laugh, parting ways with him as you overheard him throwing sudden, vivacious greetings at his best friend.
You washed your face first. Then downed some of the leftover snacks that you’d abandoned on the kitchen counter last night. Gulped them down with a big refreshing glass of water before you strolled the short distance back to Yoongi’s bedroom.
And there, you halted, pressing your shoulder into the wall next to the ajar door as you heard Hoseok’s question sound from inside the room.
“Just curious why I don’t see your other chicks walking around anymore.”
“What other chicks?” Yoongi wondered, his voice dipped in playful mock and slight mirth. You could imagine the face he was probably making.
“C’mon. What’s with you two? I’ve not seen you hang out with other girls in, like, a really long time.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Nah, but… just curious. Feels new to me.”
You registered some shifting from inside, his bed creaking; and you nearly ran away, ready to act all innocent and oblivious to their conversation. But there were no steps approaching the door just yet; so, you relaxed, staying like that for just a little longer.
“So? She’s chill. And fun,” Yoongi argued, and you nodded, patting your shoulder mentally. “I don’t necessarily need my… other chicks.”
His voice was injected with a ridiculing lilt so clearly that you nearly laughed out loud. Smiled a little.
“But you’re still not official, though?”
Nope. Informal hook-ups, the bane of your existence.
Silence followed Hoseok’s question, and you faltered a bit, waiting as you pressed your back against the cold wall further .
And then, Yoongi eventually answered, “We’re not.”
Seemingly, it was Hoseok’s turn to shut down, nothing coming back as a response, and you thought the conversation was over. You tapped the glass in your hand quietly, taking a breath, ready to push the door open and step in as though you’d heard nothing, knew nothing.
But then, Yoongi spoke again.
“I don’t think I want a relationship just yet.”
“Why?”
“You know why. Long distance relationships never work.”
“Ever tried?”
“I don’t wanna try and be disappointed!”
Yoongi’s arguments were sharp and pointed, as if he firmly believed in what he was saying. He thought you weren’t worth a shot… was that it? And what long distance relationship was he talking about anyway? You weren’t going anywhere.
“I won’t be gone for just two days,” he then added, his voice quieter this time.
Ah. He was going away.
As the shuffling of your feet became too loud, you broke out of your stupor, finally knocking before you entered with a smile plastered on your seemingly clueless face. You placed the glass on his nightstand, plummeting onto the bed at the same moment as Hoseok rose with a sigh.
“‘Kay, that’s it. Gotta go.” Opting for the door you just came through, he waved you goodbye, a short explanation mumbled your way, “Lunch date with Joon.”
“Wait,” you called, eyes blowing wide as you leaned forward, “the guy you hooked up with?”
“My boyfriend.”
“Oh shit, it happened?” Your eyes darted to and fro, staring at the boys as you mouthed a wow, and then added, “Congrats!”
With a delighted thankful nod, Hoseok left the room and you alone with your thoughts. Your smile fell just a little, your mind soon blanking as you took in the quietude of noon. And you didn’t speak up again until Yoongi pulled you back into him by your waist.
Your heart raced at his touch, and he buried his face in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, asking, “Wanna get some lunch, too?”
You moved your head yes, but you were still too distracted to look straight into his face – something in you was certain he’d see the change in your expression. But he didn’t notice just yet after all; because his eyes were closed, and the sun shining through the window made him lazier, sleepier.
His hair tickled your neck, lips pressed against your skin and the hot breath escaping his nose warming your shoulder. In the serene moment, you cleared your throat, courageous hormones flooding your body as you threw caution out the window and questioned, “Where’re you going?”
He froze.
“What?”
“You said you’d be gone.”
It took him a moment to make sense of your words, staring at one particle of dust in the air until he hummed and slurred, “You heard that?”
“Just this. When I came back,” you lied, hoping he didn’t catch the ingenuity in your words.
“Ah.” He lifted his head, his lips forming a thin line as though he was contemplating what the hell to tell you. Which explanation was short, informative enough? “Well… I’ll be gone for an internship. The place I applied for is pretty far, but I want to give it a try and then see what happens. Might not work there forever, though.”
An internship. A life changing decision full of opportunities. There was no way you weren’t going to cheer him on – if anyone deserved to explore his skills, it was him.
“Okay.”
“Should’ve told you.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you agreed with a laugh, attempting to lift his worries – if there were any – and be happy for him.
“You’re not mad?”
“Nah. This is a great thing, and you don’t need to tell me everything.”
Admittedly, you were one of the few reasons that kept him shackled to home, dampening his mood whenever he thought of a two year long chance to leave. Not because you were being a hurdle of any kind or pulling him back on purpose. But because he’d grown used to you.
Unconsciously, unfortunately.
“True,” he then confirms, his grip around you tightening when you huffed in light, faux annoyance.
“Ass.”
“You like me like that.”
Despite your cute, little pout, you pressed your body further into his, your words contradicting your touches when you said, “I hate you all the time, really.”
“Sure, sure.”
He laughed with you, thinking for a moment. He didn’t dare to meet your eyes, staring out the window instead as he took a route he wasn’t familiar with: keeping someone close to his heart; no one but them. “But. When I come back… you’ll be one of the first to know, yeah?”
“Oh… I’m honoured.”
“Please. You know I can’t go without this ass for too long,” he told you, his hand ghosting way too close to your butt as you wiggled out of his embrace with a snicker.
Pressing your lips against his briefly, you let your hand sneak to his arm, wrapping your palm around his as you said, “Lunch sounds nice.”
Now
“What do you want?”
Your voice sounds louder in the staircase, and you lower it once you realise how shrill your words must echo in his mind. But he doesn’t comment on it, following you closely with his hands still in his pockets. Whatever his interpretation of your miserable mood might be, he doesn’t seem too phased by it.
His tone is calm and collected, because he knows you can’t escape him forever. Despite meeting mere minutes ago, exchanging words again after years, he seems comfortable around you, laughing as he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Upstairs.”
“What’s upstairs even?”
“Dunno. Let’s find out.”
He groans, but the glee in his words never dies; you imagine the little creases around his eyes the way they always used to appear, and you smile just a bit when he exclaims, “Ugh, woman.”
You flatten your blouse and your skirt, smacking your lips as you reach an unlit hallway, two doors on the right and one on the left side; you know that the closest to you leads to the bathroom.
You stop in your tracks, eyes scanning the walls for a light switch as you state, “Creepy.”
Yoongi comes to halt next to you, humming as he turns on the light with ease – he nudges your elbow, following your gaze. “Yeah, right?”
He begins moving when you do, and you raise an eyebrow, side-eyeing him before you ask, “Are you gonna follow me to the bathroom or what?”
“You want me to?”
“Gross, go away.”
His grin widens when you attempt to shoo him away, pushing the handle of the bathroom door down before he wraps his palm around yours. Wordlessly, he shuts the door in front of your nose again, and you turn around, fire burning behind your pupils as you spit, “What’s your problem?”
Yoongi doesn’t let it affect him – you wonder if you need to work on your intimidation skills some more. In his eyes, you seem like a lost puppy – but you want to appear like the hunting tiger instead. Why are you the prey, caged between him and the door?
Because. Because his gaze makes you weak. The cocky smirk makes you weak. His voice, his hand next to your head, the long hair at the nape of his neck, it all makes you weak.
A hint of confusion settles in his dark eyes as he asks, “Why are you mad at me?”
You scoff – but you don’t know the answer.
Your lips press into a line, and you blink at him, half pissed, half confused. And he seems to decode it perfectly.
“You’re just angry for the sake of it, kitten?”
Hell no. Not the old nickname resurfacing out of nowhere. It’s an attack you didn’t anticipate and it clouds your mind along with his body grazing yours. Yoongi is still so fucking bold – it’s unbelievable.
When you’ve collected your thoughts, you ponder for a second, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek as you seek an answer to his question. When did you start growing mad at him? When the both of you stopped being whatever you were back then? When you stopped holding onto some sliver of hope?
“You don’t know, huh?” he rustles, and your gaze wanders to a spot behind him, averting his eyes as much as you can.
Revealing to him what you feel appears easier when his stare isn’t piercing your heart, and you blend it out some more as you admit, “What if I said I missed you, too? We just. We never tried to like… do something about us properly. Even when you came back.”
“I called you. Not just once, by the way. And you shut me down with a new excuse every single ti–”
“Because,” you interrupt, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I didn’t know how long you’d stay this time.”
“What?”
Confusion spreads across his face, and he backs away just a little. It’s as though he’s loosened his fist around your heart, giving you access to oxygen again as you breathe, “I know you said you wouldn’t work there forever, but… Hoseok told me you loved it there. And that they wanted to expand your contract and whatnot.”
For a moment, Yoongi focuses on inhaling. Exhaling. Watches you in silence, his jaw clenching. He still remembers the contract, still remembers endless nights spent laughing and working through projects with co-workers he’d grown fond of.
But he also remembers the loneliness that came with residing in a country without a friend with a familiar bond.
Hoseok wasn’t there. His cosy, warm, soft bed wasn’t there. The coffee from home, unsweetened, with the same old attachment he felt to it. Not there.
And you – the sweetener accompanying the bitter taste of his coffee in the morning. Tender kisses, saccharine and lovely; you weren’t around – and he thought back to you more than just once.
“Well,” he then begins, “I stayed.”
“I didn’t know.”
And then, life moved on anyway.
You grew busy with graduation; he stopped chasing you. You’re not pissed, because he hurt you. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever done anything to you that you deem unforgivable. He didn’t curse you with a memory of an unpleasant goodbye, but with thoughts of gentle touches you were afraid to lose – until you actually did.
Yoongi wets his lower lip, letting his hand fall from the door as he explains, “I turned it down, because I didn’t like being away from home.”
“Hmm…”
“And I wanted to see you again.”
The knot in your throat returns with an intense strength, his words punching you in your guts as you blink at him in confusion. You part your lips, surprised and shocked as you wonder, “You didn’t turn it down ‘cause of me, did you?!”
“‘Course not. But I still thought about you more than I should’ve.”
You fall silent.
In the golden light of the hallway, your eyes trail from the strands of his hair to his button nose, his round face yet again way too close to yours. Your jaw hardens and you keep your gaze locked on his lips – and for a moment, you think you might falter after all.
“You know.” He waits again, moving into you bit by bit. “In a country full of strangers, it’s nice to remember at least one familiar face to want to go back to.”
Before
“Had a long night?”
Yoongi nodded at his best friend, his face illuminated by nothing but the light of his phone. His room lay in darkness, and he munched on some snacks as he answered, “We went to some bar that Jin and Tae suggested.”
Hoseok pouted, humming as he leaned his phone against a stack of heavy books. He cupped his face in his palms, mumbling, “Your new best friends?”
“Shut up.”
Hoseok laughed, but Yoongi’s expression stayed firm and serious. Tired eyes stared at his phone and at the lagging video of his friend. If Yoongi hadn’t promised him to call tonight, he’d be sound asleep now, approaching yet another busy day at work.
But Hoseok never missed out on a call or left Yoongi hanging – the older man reckoned that the least he could do was show some appreciation for his friend back at home just as much.
“Why do you look like shit, though?” Hoseok asked, wiping the hair from his eyes.
“You guessed it already… long night.”
“What you do?”
“Uhh…”
Yoongi hesitated. He could already predict Hoseok’s upcoming words as the younger man shifted in his seat, laughing and shaking his head as if to reprimand his former roommate. A finger playing with his earlobe, he wanted to know, “Shit. Again? Do you never get bored?”
“She paid for the taxi ride.”
“Is that how to swoon you?” Hoseok laughed, and Yoongi joined him for a moment, pulling his blanket up to his chest. “Was it good at least?”
“Was okay. Nothing special. Talked about her ex a lot.”
Hoseok frowned, his heart-shaped lips falling as an expression akin to disgust laced his features. “Outrageous.” He shook his head again, leaning back a little. “Why don’t you sleep some then? Or got work to do?”
“So much work, man.”
Yoongi wiped his face, overworked as usual, but never faltering, never giving up until he was done, satisfied and ready to wrap things up. He brushed his damp hair back, still sleepy from the much needed, steaming hot shower.
And then, a thought occurred to him – one that didn’t surprise him much, considering that an old face kept trying to sneak its way into his consciousness a lot these days. The thought seemed omnipresent today – and no amount of work or hook-ups helped him refocus.
“Can I ask you something?”
In the following pause, Hoseok nodded; and then, Yoongi formed your name after all those months of separation and withdrawal again. Hoseok wished he could’ve been surprised – but considering your relationship before Yoongi left, he rather wondered why it’d taken his friend so damn long to finally spit your name.
But Yoongi did again, clearing his throat before he asked, “What’s she been up to?”
“Strangers in your bed, but you still can’t stop thinking about her, huh?”
“We just… we haven’t talked in ages. I was thinking of her today.”
Hoseok knew it wasn’t a matter of today. Anytime he’d mention you to Yoongi, his friend’s eyes would light up, his concentration fully shifting from whatever he was doing to the conversation as Hoseok rambled on and on about how fun or informative or fleeting some encounter with you had been.
He didn’t want to urge Yoongi to open up – but he was trying to pull something out of him at least.
“I dunno. I think she’s okay,” Hoseok said, his voice dripping in nonchalance purposely; careful not to prod, “she’s been talking to Joon more than me recently, but… I think she’s fine. Bet she’ll be over the moon once you come back.”
“You think she’d wanna go back to old habits, though? It’s really been quite some time.”
“Old habits? That’s what you want?”
Hoseok waited for Yoongi to shake his head; but the silence revealed more than he needed to know. Yoongi wasn’t looking to go back to old habits, but to expand them into something more meaningful – he was sure.
“Why, Yoon? What happened with the not-ready-for-a-relationship guy?”
“Nothing.”
“I’ll tell you then,” Hoseok chimed, preparing for a groundbreaking speech as he neared the screen, “you’ve abandoned him in an unknown corner in your new country and replaced him with the awakened, much wiser version of Min Yoongi. Who, by the way, craves nothing but the same lady for the rest of his life… all of a sudden.”
With each word that he added, Yoongi’s smile grew wider, a fond, tired laugh escaping once Hoseok uttered the very last syllable of his sentence.
Slipping down the headboard of his bed, Yoongi sniffled, wiping a nonexistent tear before he questioned, “Where did you get that poetic bullshit from?”
“Am I not a bard?”
“Totally. She’s not just any lady, FYI.”
“I know,” Hoseok confirmed, shrugging his shoulders, “she really is the greatest.”
As Hoseok slowly digressed, distracting the intern far away with new stuff, Yoongi’s focus fluctuated. Your activity on social media had increased in the last few weeks – perhaps the reason for your presence in his head was just that. But after the events last night, he’d realised a thing or two.
Most importantly: wasting nights with people he didn’t care about didn’t do it for him anymore. Their warmth didn’t suffice – it wasn’t yours.
But maybe he’d be able to bask in the heat you emanated once he came back again – if you let him.
Now
I wanted to see you again.
You must have been staring at him for minutes now. Hours? Years.
Yes - you’re not mad at him because he did anything wrong. You’re mad, because every opportunity to stay with him slipped out of your fingers way too smoothly. Misunderstandings. The fear of being left alone again. The suffocating stress of life and graduation and job-hunting and paying rent.
If you couldn’t have him, you wanted to drown your feelings in anger instead. And you realise – you were stupid, so stupid.
Quietly rethinking his words, you contemplate what to say or do next.
In a country full of strangers, he’d waited to see a familiar face again; counted down the days to feel their warmth again. It’s insane to you that you were the tender existence he’d needed. Insane that you let all the chances die.
And when your mind keeps blanking, he whispers, “I… I’ll kiss you if you don’t say anything.”
Is that a threat?
Because you’re way ahead.
You grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him close to you; he crashes into your body, tripping a little, and his hands plant back against the wooden door behind you reflexively.
When your mouths collide, you feel a sense of home and remedy wash over you immediately. His lips fit between yours perfectly, locking in place as they should. Like two puzzle pieces. Like a key to its lock.
Like a Yoongi to you.
The kiss doesn’t remain chaste and harmless for long, all your longing and year-long pining clear and discernible in your touch as his tongue breaks through the seam of your lips. This time, it’s him opening the door of the bathroom, pushing you in and against the wall again, once you find yourself alone with him in the comfort of the room.
His mouth stays attached to yours, and his fingers trail up and down your body, never settling anywhere. Fervently, his plush lips roam your face before sliding down your neck – he sucks and nibbles; then soothes the slight pain with his tongue. Entangles the fingers of your hands as he inhales sharply, grunting.
Fingertips graze your sides, journeying their way down; and when he squeezes your ass once, you mewl his name in a quiet whisper. A deep groan vibrates against the throbbing veins of your neck, and your mind spins and backflips when he asks, “You still on the pill, kitten?”
Fuck.
Kitten.
You’re really going there. Or are you? Can you?
“No… I’m not.”
Your answer catches him off guard, because – dammit. Blue balling in someone else’s house isn’t necessarily his favourite pastime.
“So–” you begin, but he lifts his face, lust written in his pupils as he interjects.
“Should I go and ask Jungkook if he’s got condoms in his bedroom?”
“Are you insa–”
“Totally kidding, but…”
You fast-blink at him, your eyes darting through the bathroom before you give up, nervousness spreading in your chest as you suggest, “I, uh– I don’t mind swallowing, if that’s…”
Yoongi freezes for a second, watching you incredulously. But once he snaps out of his haze, he laughs a little, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers as he whispers, “No, baby. I won’t be the only one enjoying this.”
His words fill you with something that resembles a high school crush way too much. But you suppress your telling smile, waiting; thinking of possibilities as you trace the blood-vessels on the back of his hands with your thumb.
You think you could get lost in him, just by leaving an invisible trail of touches on his body. By looking at him, taking in his beauty.
But then, he interrupts your train of thoughts, asking with a mischievous smile, “Didn’t you agree that the party sucks ass?”
“I… yeah…”
“And uh… well, I have my own apartment now.”
You cock an eyebrow, trying your hardest to snap out of your daze and into your teasing, bratty self that he enjoyed so much, mumbling, “Oh, do we now?”
“So…”
He’s waiting for an answer.
You know he won’t touch you or risk shit without your consent – but once you do give in, he’ll tear you apart. You know – you remember. All the nights you spent awake, waiting for his touch, waiting for his words… his heart beating against yours, his mouth whispering sweet promises to you…
Min Yoongi.
You’ve been patient for too long. And even if he’s become a stranger now, it doesn’t mean you can’t rekindle whatever you used to feel.
You can’t let this go again.
“Yes,” you finally breathe, your teeth gliding along your swollen lower lip, “please.”
And Yoongi would be damned if he didn’t hold onto you this time.
There’s neither time nor motivation to glance around his quiet apartment when you arrive. From the lack of bumping into furniture, you reckon it is sparsely decorated yet cosy, much in Yoongi’s familiar style you still remember from the place he shared with Hoseok.
But he doesn’t give you a chance to take anything but his tongue in as he kisses and pushes your way to his bedroom. It’s dark inside, and he doesn’t bother switching on the light; merely the grey, dull shine of the evening shines through his blinds that he shut.
The summer day is coming to an end, and the heat and shiver mixing in the air becomes a sensation too ambiguous to define.
“Were you always this wild?” Yoongi asks as you fall onto his mattress with a faint thump.
You’re barely moving as you give your breaths a moment to steady; not that it’s possible with him floating above you, though – his hair falling like a waterfall, lips curled to a smirk. You put on your most innocent expression, questioning back, “What did I do?”
But you don’t think he buys your playful shyness all that much as he parts your legs, pushing his knee up enough to rile you up, but not enough to give you what you seek.
Min Yoongi knows how to tease; knows how to push your buttons.
Ass.
“Think I’ve scratch marks on my back already.”
“Yeah… sure.”
“You think my burning skin is joking?”
You bite your lower lip, eager to see the light red scars emerge on his flesh with your own eyes. At the same time, however, you dig your nails into your palms with guilt flooding your chest, “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s kinda…”
He shrugs his shoulders, taking a deep breath with an expression you can’t quite categorise. You pout, eyebrows furrowed – you’re so cute to him; so dual, so confusing.
“Painful?” you ask carefully, ready to apologise yet again before he shakes his head.
“No. It’s hot.” Nimble fingers push down the shirt from your shoulder before he leans down. His lips kiss a trail along your upper arm and clavicles softly, angelically. The featherlight touch contrasts the words accompanying his actions. “You’ll get it all back tenfold anyway.”
His confession reaches a core deep down your body, but you giggle anyway – you don’t think you’ve enjoyed dirty talk like this in months. As he smiles at your joy, you pull him closer, asking with hooded, lustful eyes, “You gonna let me walk out intact tonight?”
“We’ll see, babe,” he answers, his hands pushing into the mattress further, “really don’t wanna let you walk out at all tonight.”
Oh. Damn. Damn.
Then you guess you won’t have to pay for a cab in the middle of the night either.
Reaching out, you sweep the suit jacket off his shoulders and tug at his thin shirt. There’s no time to waste – no patience left in any fibre of your being. And so you pull up his shirt and over his head, messing up his hair in the process until he follows your steps.
Impatient hands open the button of your skirt, shifting it over your thighs and down your legs along with your panties. His lips always find a way to stay busy – kissing your sides, biting into your flesh, distracting you as you rid your torso of your shirt and intruding bra.
“Someone’s eager,” you joke once his slacks land on the ground.
“Me and the guy down there, baby.”
You stare at the bulge forming under his last remaining piece of clothing. You feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable while he still kneels in front of you with his most precious part still hidden.
That won’t do.
Electrified and dizzy, you flash your most seductive gaze, whispering to him, “Need you naked for me.”
“I’m all yours, love.”
How dare he?
He backs away on the soft mattress when you sit up, covering one of your tits with one palm for just a moment before you attach your mouth to his stomach. He has your body trapped between his legs, and you stare up at him, your tongue licking its way down his torso.
Your fingers tug at his underwear, your lips sliding further South until they start placing tender kisses against his erection. His length rests sideways under the fabric, and your mouth travels along each inch before it wraps around his balls.
One blissful groan later, you move on again and pull his underwear down. You gape at it for a moment, yelling at your lungs to provide you with the air you so desperately seek. The moles, smooth skin, protruding veins and leaking pre-cum pull your face closer as if they’re putting you under a spell.
And then, your mind fucks up your thoughts as it comes up with the most embarrassing line ever uttered in the history of foreplay, and he starts laughing before you even get to finish the last word.
“You have such a magical dick, you know?”
Heat creeps up your face as you realise what you just said, and you let your head sink with closed eyes; ready to hurry, ready to distract him with the suck of his life. But he chuckles over you, placing a finger under your chin to make you look at him and – much to your pleasure – segues, “You don’t have to. I wanna pleasure you instead.”
“I want to do the same for you, though,” you answer.
Your smile resembles heaven, but your ask is as sinful as the devil can get.
When he nods as permission, you finally give in, letting the tip of your tongue paint a wet stripe along his pulsating cock. Your hands toy with his balls, your lips wrapping around his girth. With a deep breath, you take him in as much as your throat allows; and soon, his fingers push your hair back, his focus fixated on the way you gag around him.
You slurp and choke, moaning around him; your eyes can’t decide whether they want to close or watch him throw his head back. Taking deep breaths through your nose, you hollow your cheeks, blending out any background noise except the voice that states, “No one sucks like you do, kitten.”
Proud and satisfied, you back away, spitting onto his dick; you twist your wrist around his cock, adoring his groans, lip bites and low, whispered curses. Then, you lean in again, rolling your tongue around the tip of his cock; kissing away his sanity – toying with his patience.
And suddenly, his demon rages, growling through him as he remarks, “My baby knows what she’s doing.”
“Like that?” you whisper breathlessly.
“Like that,” he says, a laugh and a sigh mixing to a new sound before he adds, “feels like you got even better at this and… your mouth always felt so… so perfect.”
The moment could remain hot and sweet; but your thoughts drift when the neighbour’s dog barks, your body flinching before you pull back and snicker. You wonder if his neighbours can hear you, too.
Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief but finds amusement in the situation, too – how does everything with you feel so real, comforting and homely when you were apart for so long? How do you manage to drown him in consoling domesticity instead of fabricated, pornographic meaninglessness?
Is he really not used to affection like this?
No time to think about it now, though.
Instead, he focuses on you diving in again, fogging his mind and bringing back the blazing, unfiltered lust as he asks, “Why are you being so quiet?”
A string of saliva breaks when you detach your mouth from his dick, drool running down your chin, the filth indescribable. An image of your face covered in his seed clouds his senses, but he catches himself fast when you answer, “Neighbours.”
“Who the hell cares? Won’t you be a good girl and let me hear you, babe?”
“But…”
He licks his dry lips, his piercing gaze intense and his voice fucked out beyond imagination as he tells you, “If it was up to me, I’d let the whole world know I’m fucking this pretty little mouth of yours.”
“I–”
You’re not sure what you want to argue back, but as the dog on the other side of the wall repeats his scolding, your bubble breaks anyway. Yoongi breathes out a huff of air, and you grin at him as he lets his body fall onto the bed. He clears his forehead off his hair, patting your ass before he orders, “Sit on my face.”
The sudden command comes unexpectedly, and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten as you ask, “Really?”
“Really.”
Your pussy cheers and buzzes, clenching around nothing when his hands attempt to pull you closer to his body. He wants it. When he said he wants to pleasure you, he really meant it. You’re lucky – way too lucky.
Moving carefully, you straddle him, feeling somewhat powerful in your new position as you look at him and ask again, “Seriously?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
You squint your eyes at him, taking in his earnest expression, pupils flooding with hunger and want. And then, you answer, “You look like you’re gonna eat me alive.”
“Intending to. Get on my face, baby.”
So you do.
You’d be a fool to decline anyway.
You place your nether lips over his mouth, sinking down carefully as you balance your weight with your palms against the wall. As his hot breath meets your aching core, your eyelids flutter shut, and you let him do his thing for a moment before you realise that he might want you to lead for once.
And so, you begin moving in oval forms, your hands curling into tight fists. It’s crazy how much you missed these acts – being with him feels so natural that you almost forget what being apart from him meant to you.
You were alone just yesterday. Just this morning – heck, even two hours ago. And now you’re here, bare, riding the man’s face who you’ve dreamed of so often? Really?
“Fuck, Yoongi, I–” you begin, your chest flaring up when he dips his tongue into your cunt. Lips french kiss your core, not too harsh; soft and slow, just the way you love.
You whimper and wince, hiss and moan, cry and yell out his name.
Too much. Too good.
Yoongi’s eager mouth licks you drier and wetter at the same time, his thirst never subsiding as he grips your thighs tighter. His nose tickles your clit, bringing you close to your release. When his eyes open, your fingers are digging into your mounds, nipples perked and inviting.
If he was able to speak, he’d tell you what his dark thoughts consist of.
Because he wants you pinned underneath him, a knotted cloth holding your wrists in place, panties stuffed into your mouth as he watches you squirm – hears you beg. Every inch of his body irks him to fuck you into the mattress, ruin your make-up, draw out one orgasm after the other.
If he told you, you might think he’s crazy.
So for now, he holds back. To a certain degree, that is.
Because he’ll fuck you anyway – and he doesn’t bother waiting any longer. His lips pull at your lower ones one more time, licking along the entire length of your pussy before he finally stops – when he pushes you off his face, he’s breathless.
And his eyes – remembering how to decipher his little, unconscious signals, you understand immediately what he wants. What he’s waiting for.
You don’t don’t waste the tiniest of seconds as you slide down his inviting, warm body. You’re sure he’s been working out; the bulge of his bicep does not look the way you remember it – not that you’d ever complain.
Placing yourself over his rock hard, begging length, you sigh as your nerves touch his smooth, damp skin. You don’t claim the throne that twitches underneath you; don’t let him split your walls and ruin you the way you both deserve.
Instead, you slide up and down the hardness of his cock, rubbing yourself as you throw your head back and mumble his name. From where he groans, palms pressing into your thighs and lips parted, he whispers, “God, really wanna just. Slide in and… fuck you raw.”
You flash him a cocky grin, proud that your teasing skills have still not faltered – apparently, you still understand his body as well as you did almost three years ago. Your tone is bratty and challenging, your toes curling at the tantalising touch as you suggest, “Wanna risk it?”
“As much as I’d love to, kitten… better not tempt me.”
The way he warns you makes you want to disobey out of spite – but you’re not stupid. You watch him push open a drawer, rummaging through its contents until he fishes out a fresh package from the very back.
It’s almost as though he stuffed it there and then abandoned it.
Hmm.
“Face down, sweetheart. Now,” he orders, not letting you overthink the scene too much as he nods to the spot next to him.
You’re impatient and dripping – fast to oblige.
Readying yourself, you bury your face in his pillow the moment he lifts his body. You shift to where you think the middle of the bed might be, your breathing growing erratic, accelerating. For a moment, you wait in anticipation – but then, his hands pull you up by your hips; onto your elbows and knees.
Still his favourite position apparently.
“What a damn pretty ass,” Yoongi presses, grabbing a handful before he lets go again, “wanna bite into it.”
“What a starved man you are…”
Your weak whisper escapes with a stutter, showcasing Yoongi’s effect on you so clearly that he lets out the smallest, softest of laughs. But then, he speaks on, fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach further.
“You don’t fucking know how much I’ve wanted to fuck you all day.” He waits; chuckles on as you feel his knees inch closer; his hips near yours. “Scratch that. All those years.”
“Do it now then,” you provoke, gathering all your concentration to form words and not drown in excitement and lust. “Fuck me like you mean it, Yoongi.”
Oh, if you knew.
There might be very few things he ever meant as much as he does this.
Not even the want to accept the internship might come close to just how much he means his affection and desire for you.
And then, it finally happens. After all this time, after all the yearning and waiting and wishful thinking, the glorious moment has arrived and returned – now more phenomenal than ever. Emotions rooted deep inside you, everlasting, manifesting in his touches.
“How’s that?” he asks as he pushes in, going at an agonising pace until he’s bottomed out.
“Good. Great. Want the best of you, though.”
You’re already clutching the sheets wrinkled around your body, your moans broken and light. He squeezes your bottom again, pulling your ass cheeks apart as he shifts into position and finally…
“Tell me to stop, if you need me to, yeah?” Yoongi voices from behind you. It takes all your strength to still your spinning thoughts, processing his assurances before he destroys your mind again and adds, “Because I think I… won’t be able to once I start.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart bursting when he pulls back and glides in slowly. Your soaked walls, overflowing with arousal, suck him in easily. There is no stark or painful burn; no need to adjust or wait.
You’re brimming with thirst for him, craving all of him; right the fuck now.
“No one,” you begin, quietly, wondering if he can hear you at all, “told you to stop.”
“If that’s the case…”
His hips snap against yours once, and your body jolts forward. A hand pressed against the headboard, you mewl, ready to ask him to do it again before he transforms your thoughts into actions and fucks into you again. Slow, but hard.
“You’re this easy to rile up?” he teases, building a steady rhythm as he begins moving into you earnestly. “Still such a slut for my cock?”
Fuck.
It’s not like you’re weak for general degradation from just any partner you choose to be intimate with.
It’s more that you’re weak for this one specific man, always on your knees for him; always ready to be his slut, ready to be fucked dumb.
“Shit,” he mumbles as his cock buries deep inside you, exploring spots not even you’re familiar with, “why so tight all of a sudden? Like to be treated like my personal cum dumpster, don’t you?”
And again, your cunt clenches around him, answering in a way your mouth isn’t able to; it appears that it’s enough to him to unleash his beast, though. You knew he wouldn’t leave your guts unscathed when he pushed you onto the bed minutes ago; of course he’s pounding sanity out of you.
Of course you’re letting him.
Yoongi pushes his cock in to its hilt and pulls back each time, not leaving a particle of his length and your walls untouched. He savours the way your body squirms, putty in his grip and close to buckling. It reminds him of feverish nights in the distant past, when he’d pin you against the mattress, watch you crumble, render you breathless and speechless.
No.
It’s not time to dwell on sentimentalities just yet.
With a firm slap against your ass cheek, he pounds into you once more before his hand travels along your body and buries in your dishevelled mop of hair. Ring clad fingers of his free hand settle on your neck as he leans forward and pushes you up.
“Yoongi–” you whimper, gasping when you find yourself kneeling, your back pressed against his sweat-soaked chest. “Yoon–”
He whispers your name back, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear before he presses a sweet, chaste kiss behind it. The angle exhausts him more than the former position did – but he missed your touch; missed your breathing right next to his.
“Sounds so pretty,” he whispers, damp silver hair tickling your neck, “love how you say,” a brief pause, a hard thrust making your tits bounce, “my name.”
He applies light pressure to where his palm rests on your neck, holding you in place until your telltale yelps become too obvious, too loud. Gripping your jaw, he moves your face to his, his lips barely touching yours as he suddenly warns, “Don’t come yet.”
“What?” you voice, suddenly wide awake, wincing when his cock presses into your core incessantly. “Why not? I’m close, Yoongi, fuck.”
“I know. Control yourself, kitten.”
“Control?!” You place your hand on his wrist, your body begging to fall, fall and fall some more. “Don’t fuck me this good then.”
A low, teasing chuckle vibrates against your back and boils your blood, his voice amused but demanding when he says, “On your back then, baby. Wanna see you fall apart.”
You sigh in relief, hissing when he pulls out before you let your body turn into liquid. You shift and turn, lying down on the bed; you’ve barely settled and wiped the hair out of your face when he moves closer and spreads your legs again.
The condom wrapped around his cock is drenched in your essence, his shaft standing proud inches from his stomach. Drooling, you watch him take in the sight, eyes darting up and down slowly before he pushes his hair back. You realise just now how much it’s grown. Sticking against the nape of his neck, coloured a dark grey.
Time has surely passed.
With a deep groan, his fingers grip your knees, calloused and a little raw. You wonder if he still plays his guitar on weekend nights to wind down from work.
As his cock hits home, you cry out his name in a voice you don’t recognise, and he pushes your thighs back as much as your flexibility allows.
He plunges in with a moan too alluring, licking his lips before he questions through gritted teeth, “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“What?”
You shoot him the most innocent stare you can muster, but he doesn’t let you deceive him – yet again. He clicks his tongue as if scolding you before he clarifies, “Clenching like that!”
“No, I told you I’m close!”
“Shit, I…” He pauses, not quite able to decide whether he finds you sugary sweet or unbearably sexy. You throw your head back, and he finally accepts that he must be dreaming. “I thought about this moment… a lot.”
He stares down at where you connect, exhaling a shaky, broken sigh as he watches his cock disappear. A roll of his hips elicits high-pitched keens out of you, and you feel your chest burn up; he pushes your legs together to create more friction, hammering into you with pointed, calculated thrusts.
Your unoccupied hands fumble with your perked nipples – it’s the only thing you can do with the distance lying between him and you. Screaming, you shut your eyelids painfully, your breathing heavy and unsteady when he pushes a hand between your thighs and begins drawing circles against your clit.
Fondly, he observes your movements and your wiggling body, and he gulps when you muffle your moans by pressing your lips into a thin line – before yelling out your craze into the open. Losing it once and for all.
Your words are incoherent, resembling cries as you spasm around him; and as he leans down to you, he mumbles, “What a… pretty sight you are.”
In your haze, you smile at him fondly, proud and brain-fogged. You lift your head to allow him access to your neck, and his lips attach to your skin immediately as they wander from your clavicles and along your goosebumps, settling on your jaw.
“You like it when I touch you like this?” Yoongi murmurs, his thumb still moving in an eight pattern on your bundle of nerves as his thrusts grow merciless. “Like to be fucked like this, yeah?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Yes what?”
Your brain struggles to function. You don’t know what to answer.
“What you just… just said.”
“Won’t you repeat it for me, darling?” he teases as he kisses his way down your shoulders, biting lightly.
Damn Min Yoongi. Damn his constant nicknames and self-control and skills and knowledge of your body.
“Love it when you touch me like that!”
“Oh, love.”
And then, your body revolts, your walls contracting around his cock. Your torso shudders and your arch your back, his mouth pressing wet, open mouthed kisses against your neck and cheek before your sweaty foreheads collide.
In the heat of the summer, he knocks the air out of your lungs when he opts for another sinful kiss, and you moan into his mouth loudly, your sounds high and bordering on insanity.
“You’ve always been the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, you know?” Yoongi states, cursing under his breath. “And fuck, this pussy… missed her so much, that little,” the fingers toying with your body smack your clit once, and you yelp as oversensitivity electrifies your body, “cunt. My cunt.”
A few more pumps follow before you pull him into you fully, tearing up at his actions as he whispers into your ear, “Don’t wanna come inside you.”
“Huh,” you voice, opening your eyes; you didn’t realise you’d squinted them shut so tightly until stars begin blurring your vision. “Why?”
“Wanna cover you… in my cum.”
He used to do this back then, too. Loved seeing you marked as his. You don’t hesitate to answer – and he doesn’t seem all too surprised at your eagerness.
“Okay,” you agree.
“Okay… okay. Where?”
“Face, stomach… tits. You choose…”
“Fuck.” And then, you’re suddenly empty, devoid of his touch as he pulls out and lifts his body. Hovering over you intimidatingly. “Fuck, okay.”
He rips the condom off, throwing it into the corner of his bed haphazardly before his hand wraps around his cock, jerking off, hooded eyes zeroing in on yours. The thin sheen of sweat glistening on his neck and chest draws an unwanted moan out of you; but he doesn’t hear it, too distracted by his nearing high.
The veins of his neck pop and his body shivers, his legs caging you in as he moves up the mattress and releases ropes and ropes of his orgasm on, under, over and between your tits. It feels warm and endless, messy on your sticky skin until he’s done and spent.
“An artwork,” is all he says before he takes a deep breath, his head spinning, shaking in disbelief. “So very gorgeous.”
You scoff with a roll of your eyes, and he laughs dryly, gulping before he spreads his cum on your tits and hears you ask, “The fuck are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer; too busy with painting onto your already dirty skin. He pinches your nipples for a moment before he collects some more cum on his forefinger – and when he’s finally done and ready, he winks, leaning down as he orders, “Open up, my little whore.”
With another tender laugh, you shake your head, scolding him mentally before you oblige and stretch your tongue. He places his finger into your mouth, and you relish the flavour you missed for so long, sucking his digit clean with quiet moans as he praises, “Good girl… you’d really do anything I ask you to, wouldn’t you?”
Puppy eyes stare back at him, devastating and inviting before he pulls his finger out with a pop and falls onto the mattress next to you. Your breaths mingle into a sound of exhaustion and relaxation, and your body shudders as the sweat begins to dry, exposed to the air of the room.
You pull your legs into an angle, letting your face drop to the side to peak at his striking features. But as your eyes meet, you realise that he’s staring at you already. Raising his eyebrows when you blink at him, a smile spreading across your countenance that he responds to with his own infamous smirk.
He winks once more, but both his eyes close at the gesture – he knows you’re weak for it, but you don’t think you’ve ever told him that it’s his slight inability to actually wink that you’re so fond of.
Soft fingertips tuck your hair behind your ear, and he admires your post-coital glow for a second longer before he inquires, “Can you still walk?”
“Um. I don’t know.”
“Okay, can you walk the distance to my bathroom at least?”
“The bathroom?”
“I uh. Thought I could clean you up some,” he explains, a soft rosy blush and colours of fatigue dusting his cheeks. Even in the unlit bedroom, you can see years old emotions swimming in his eyes. “I have these bath bombs my cousin gave me, ‘cause she can’t use them in her shower, but I haven’t tried either, and–”
“Sure. Yes.”
“Yeah?” he confirms with the gummy smile you used to point out on the regular back then.
Back when you’d spend your night in his old room. When you were surrounded by clouds of maybes; floating above when things felt promising, and watching them dissolve when you analysed your relationship a little longer.
This time, however, you don’t want to crash to the ground again. Want him to give you a piece of heaven. You’ve grown too much to hope for another romance disguised as a fuck-buddy-phenomenon. No more hiding your emotions.
You drown a little in his blinding, joyful beam, his eyes two crescent moons and the button nose screaming for your kisses. What a sight – you missed this. Missed him.
And then you finally rise, letting him guide you to the bathroom, settling in the hot water and in his arms. While his hands wipe you clean, massaging your shoulders, he asks, “Back then… you heard more of the convo between Hobi and me than you admitted, right?”
You giggle at the sudden change of topic, shrugging your shoulders as you confess, “A little. Heard you say you didn’t need your other chicks, if I was here.”
“And?”
“And… that’s it. You weren’t ready to make things official. And I guess even now, we need to get to know each other again. Things have changed.”
Yoongi hums, letting his palms glide along your arms and your stomach. He nods with his chin on your head, and you hear his heartbeat next to yours as he questions, “Nothing else?”
“What?”
“You didn’t hear more than that.”
“No.” You pause, staring at the water and your shrivelled fingers under the surface. “Was there more?”
“Uhhh,” he makes, the sound vibrating through his chest, all too telling, “no. Nah, that’s it.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I–”
“You so are.”
He shuts you with a slap against your thigh, and you gasp in shock before you laugh out loud, collecting water in your palm before splashing it into his face. Frustrated yet amused, you play-fight in the comfort of the tub, pleading as sweetly as you can, “You won’t tell me? Pretty please? What was it?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, kitten.”
You puff out a breath of desperation, accidentally bumping your head against his nose as he cries out and joins your endless chuckles. Things feel new – utterly different from when you used to arrive at his place after sunset and left before your classes started.
This time, you want to stay nestled in his embrace.
And as if to voice your silent request, he asks, “Can we do that again sometime?”
With a sigh, you sink into his hug some more. The movements of the water still a little, flowing peacefully when you hum and nod softly.
“As often as you’d like.”
my energy is gone after writing and editing this @.@ let’s rest some now. a very happy birthday to our kind, sweet, sexy, amazingly talented min yoongi again !! if u guys enjoyed this fic, i’d super much appreciate you liking/commenting under it, reblogging it and/or sending an ask !!
feedback means the world to me and talking to y’all is always fun !! love uuuu <3
Genre: established relationship, fluff and love, slice of life
WC: 1k
Warnings: one (1) curse, this is also not my wheelhouse to write so I’m nervous eager to see what you think :)
Note: thank you a billion times for all the sobbing emojis during your beta job, @/kookstempo!!! ilu pumpkin
You’re comfy – so comfy: blanket over your legs holding in your body heat, coffee cup between your hands still steaming as you wait for it to cool enough to drink, throw-pillows behind you in just the right spots.
Unfortunately, you have to get up. Why? Because you hear Yoongi’s electric toothbrush in the bathroom, and that means he’s getting ready to leave.
You must make your displeasure known.
You set your coffee cup on the table and reach for the remote, pausing the nonsense you were half-watching as you woke up. You pad through the living room sleepily, heading towards the bathroom light down the hallway.
He’s fresh out of the shower, standing before the bathroom sink in only a clean pair of boxer briefs. In the sink below him, cold water is running. You eye his bare back, still covered in water droplets. He never dries his shoulders properly. He turns to look at you as you come into view in the doorway, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.
“Uh-oh,” he says, around a mouthful of toothpaste. You can’t help it - you smile deviously.
You come to stand behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, holding on to your own forearms to lock him in place. You rest your cheek against the flat of his shoulder blade for a second – he’s still so warm from the shower – but then face front to look at him in the mirror. In your reflections, you can only see yourself from your eyes up, peering over his shoulder, the rest of you hidden behind the love of your life.
He meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a look that’s somehow both indulgent and warning. The duality with this guy, you swear.
He leans forward to spit and rinse, and you keep your arms locked tight around his middle, giggling a little when the action causes you to have to stretch onto your tippytoes. You keep your grip tight as he turns to reach for a face-towel, and swivel together with him when he turns back to turn the faucet off.
“Are we really doing this?” he asks you, the barest hint of a laugh in his voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say lightly, feigning innocence.
He rolls his eyes at you, but you can see the corners of his mouth fighting twitches. He doesn’t want to laugh; he knows laughing will only encourage your shenanigans.
He turns and heads back into your shared bedroom, and you keep your arms in place, hopping quickly from one foot to another in an effort to not step on him or accidentally let go. He huffs out a laugh as your front bumps into his back over and over in your efforts to keep up.
“Did you know,” he says, stopping in front of his closet, eyes searching for what he wants to wear, “that you only do this when I’m trying to get ready to go?”
“Do what?” you demand innocently.
He cocks an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. You squeeze him just a little tighter. “Get clingy,” he clarifies, even though you both knew what he meant.
“It’s not the only time I get clingy,” you muse, happy to keep the conversation going. As long as he’s still in your grasp, as long as he’s still talking to you, then you’re successfully delaying his departure. “I get clingy when I’m sleepy, too. Or when I’m sad. Or when I just want a hug.”
He’s digging through the closet now, hands going for the hangers he wants. “That’s a long list. How do I put up with you?”
“Good question,” you deadpan. “How do you put up with me?”
He’s been trying to get ready despite your iron grip around his middle – this is such a familiar song-and-dance he’s not sure he can get dressed without you attached to his back – but now he stops. His instinctual reaction, sassy shit that he is, is to quip, “It’s a challenge, for sure,” but something halts him today.
He turns within your little prison, and you allow it. He bends down and kisses your forehead, one lock of black hair falling over his forehead with the motion, and your eyes widen. You obstructing his getting-ready process is commonplace – him being sweet instead of playfully annoyed is not.
But there’s something Yoongi learned the hard way over a year ago when you two started getting serious: while his love language is acts of service, yours is words of affirmation. You both had to learn this about each other and adjust. For you that meant remembering to ask yourself what you could do for him when you weren’t used to having someone else to think about. For him it meant making an effort to put his feelings into words for you, even when it didn’t come easily or naturally.
“Putting up with you,” he says, voice low, “is one of my favorite things to do.”
You go absolutely silent, but you squeeze him a little tighter. You know it doesn’t come effortlessly for Yoongi to be verbally sentimental – he shows his love in a million little ways every day, but this kind of thing means he put in a concentrated effort, made a choice to try and give you what you need. You’re flooded with gratitude, overcome with appreciation for his willingness to try for you.
“Well, now I really don’t want you to leave,” you grumble into his chest. He laughs fully, shoulders shaking and smile showing his gums.
“The sooner you let me go,” he reasons, “the sooner I can come home again.”
“I’d rather you not go at all,” you say. He glances at the clock and gives your arms two quick pats, indicating that he really needs to make some moves now, and your allotted bothering time is up. Sighing, you release your hold on him, making to go back to your spot on the couch. Your coffee has probably cooled by now.
You’re about to step away when Yoongi reaches and pulls you back, wrapping you in one last hug before he has to start hustling to get out the door on time. You sink against him, eyes closing. You’re back to being comfy – so comfy.
♢ genre: (18+) friends to lovers, ex-fwb, mutual pining, massage au | fluff, sprinkle of angst, smut
♢ summary: surprise! you're gifted a free massage at the nearby massage parlor called "Blissful Hands." you've heard about the parlour about once or twice, never thought about stepping foot inside to take advantage of their services. thinking you could use the massage to relax, rid yourself of any stress and built up tension, you walk into the parlor excited for your first massage opportunity. however, when you realize your masseur is no other than Min Yoongi himself, all excitement flies out the window. never did you think you'd reunite with your biggest crush in college, the one that got away. they say sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you— but in this case, you find out that words have actually ruined a lot for you and Yoongi. and stones.. well, they'll do a lot to ease that instead.
♢ pairing: reader x masseur!myg
♢ words: 18.4k
♢ warnings: i did as much research as possible on hot stone massages pls forgive me, mature language/cussing, sexually implied content, sprinkle of angst??, miscommunication, rumors and assumptions, unspoken feelings, awkward reunion lol yoongi isnt really having it at first, oc shoulda tried harder tho oof, he does have a soft spot for oc, drinking/intoxication, flashback scenes, use of pet names like baby and princess, cuddles, after care, making out, unprotected sex, missionary, multiple orgasms, use of oil and hot stones in foreplay, fingering, clit play, slight marking, sprinkle of spit play, breast play, smut on the massage table ://, pulling out, grinding, edited but unedited lolol sorry if i missed anything!
♢ note: thank you so, so much to @ressjeon for thinking of me and for inviting me to be a part of this collab! i had tons of fun writing this <33 also, big shoutout again to @ilikemesometaetaes & @jimilter for this beautiful ass banner! please check out the other works part of this collab, they’re all amazing and won’t disappoint!
—i also wanted to let you all know i’ll be continuing my break and i won’t be as active on here for awhile. i need a moment to rest since i’ve been feeling pretty down and unmotivated lately. just gotta take a moment to shake off this funk. but, i’ll be writing behind the scenes from time to time in between pulling my personal stuff together. 💞
♢ support me!
It's that time of the year again.
It's that time of the year again where your loved ones sweetly greet you, your coworkers shove plans and alcohol in your face because you aren't getting any younger— Immediate family reminding you where you need to be at this point in your life.
Married, with kids, doing some other job that brings in more money.
You know what it is.
No harm, they say. Just a reminder. It's your birthday for fucks sake, and they wanna give you a reminder?
Anywho, you park your car after a long day of work, just now hanging up the phone after your mom and dad had called to greet you [aka bringing up said reminder mentioned above] in the most loving way they can. You know they come from a good place, and you know that they support you either way, so you can't help but give off a tiny sigh and respond with a cute little 'yes, I know but thank you, I love you' in the end. You grabbed your purse and headed up the steps to your apartment, grabbing the mail on the way up without giving it another look as you set it near your keys at the entrance way. You immediately slip out of your heels first, then make your way into the kitchen to wash your tupperware from lunch.
It'll be a quiet birthday, and that's okay with you.
That's how you've always preferred it, anyway. Quiet, lowkey, no surprises—
"Surprise, bitch!" You pick up the call from your bestfriend, slightly bringing the phone away from your ear when you hear her scream on the other end. "Happy birthday to the love of my life and the only person I can stand! Did you open your mail yet? What are you up to today? Who is getting some of that tonight—"
"Hold on just a minute, Rissa." You nervously chuckle. "Thank you, and I love you, but one question at a time, please?" You tuck the phone against your ear with your shoulder as you put your dishes away.
"I'm sorry." She giggles. "You know I love you. I'm just sad I can't be there with you since they have me on this work trip for the month."
"It's okay." You crack a tiny smile. "How is it?"
"It's fine, same old." She sighs. "But this isn't about me, birthday girl. What are your plans?"
"You already know me." You laugh. "Keep it lowkey. Order some good, comforting takeout and pair it with red wine." You plop on the couch and put her on speaker so you can start your next 15 or so minutes just looking for food that you'll end up doordashing over.
"Mkay, really?"
"I don't know why you're so surprised."
"Guess you didn't open your mail."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" You look towards your entrance way at the stack of envelopes.
"Can you just go and open your mail? I made sure that would get sent with priority." She laughs as you chuckle and shake your head, meandering over to the envelopes you wanted to ignore for the evening at the very least. Well, for the most part, the majority of the envelopes get flipped through and tossed to the back, especially if you already knew none of them necessarily had an urgent deadline.
Alas, you come to Rissa's envelope. Soft pink in color with 'Y/N Y/L/N' in big, bold, black Sharpie on the front— a little drawn heart attached to the end of it.
You take your finger and gently rip the envelope open, revealing a card with a piece of paper in it. You read the sweet message written by your bestfriend before pulling out the paper to read what it consists of:
One free 60 min. massage at Blissful Hands - Applies to all massage types. Redeem Now!
No expiration date.
"A free massage?" You think out loud and Rissa laughs.
"Girl, you need to relax, okay? You're always working so damn hard, you never give yourself a break. I know I had mentioned the parlor before, but I just haven't had the time to take you. I want you to go and treat yourself as my birthday present." She pauses briefly before going on again. "And don't give me that 'with what time' bullshit cause I'm gonna be on your ass until you step foot in that establishment. Trust me. I'll be annoying, you don't want that." You laugh.
"Thank you, Rissa. I love it, seriously. Maybe I could use a day to just do this and nothing else." You flip the coupon in your hand.
"Maybe, yeah." She says sarcastically. "If you aren't gonna use that unlimited PTO benefit, then let me at it."
"You're right." You shake your head. "Fine, I'll go."
"Like, tomorrow."
"No, not tomorrow."
"Before next week, though."
"Yes, damn." You laugh a little louder. "Jeez, you weren't kidding when you said you'd be on my ass."
"No, I wasn't. Besides, I spent the money so that you could have this day be all about self-care."
"Thank you." You repeat. "I love you. And I miss you dearly."
"I miss you, too. I'll be home soon and I'll make sure my first stop is your place."
"Sounds like a plan." You say softly, genuinely missing the company of your bestfriend. "I just hope you're enjoying yourself down there in between work."
"Oh girl, you know I am. Don't you even worry." She chuckles. "Seriously though, take that coupon into the parlor this week, you hear me?"
"I will."
"Mmkay. I'll let you get back to your lowkey birthday celebration. Love you to bits and pieces." She says in a sing-song tone. "By the way, there's more gifts coming your way, they're just delayed."
"What!?"
"Byeeeee!" She laughs and abruptly ends the call. You look at the phone in disbelief before slowly setting it down onto your coffee table. You pick up the coupon and look at it again, suddenly getting the urge to look through your work calendar to see which day you could call off.
No meetings, no agenda, nothing.
Just you, yourself and this massage parlor.
"Why not?" You mutter to yourself as you place the coupon back down and start looking through the rest of the week on your calendar.
You actually don't get the chance to go until closer to the end of the week— a Thursday that most people decide that they want to cancel group meetings or work remotely to focus on other urgent projects. You don't complain though, hell, you quickly put in your time off and don't look back.
That Thursday comes just as quickly as you submitted the time off request, the sun beaming straight into your room and warming your sheets through the sheer blinds. You stretch a bit, arms poking out from underneath the covers as you yawn and try to completely wake yourself up. You figured starting your day at the massage parlor could be good, maybe it'll just get you started on the right foot, maybe it'll get you to do other spontaneous, productive things that you should've done on your actual birthday. Who knows? You were just excited to have the day to yourself with no other obligations and people, emails, deadlines— whatever fucking else comes with corporate— to worry about. You get yourself washed up and ready for the day, throwing on a simple, all black biker shorts and sports bra set. You grab a hoodie in case the day is actually colder than expected, throw on some socks, tie up your sneakers and head out the door.
The establishment isn't too far, and it's nice that it's pretty convenient. You and Rissa both had incredibly busy schedules, it was almost impossible to think about a massage during a normal week at work. If it wasn't for your birthday and for her gift, you aren't entirely sure you'd ever step foot here to take advantage of their services [knowing damn well you could use it, too]. The added bonus now is the convenience and how close it is to other establishments you frequent.
Maybe you might be back after a taste.
When you walk in, it's peaceful, serene, as you expected; soft music played in the background. A lady stood near the front desk, walking the receptionist through something— you weren't entirely sure. They finally turned their attention towards you, the lady standing coming towards you with a smile on her face.
"Hey, welcome in to Blissful Hands!" She smiles. "I'm Yannie."
"Y/N." You give her a small, toothless smile as you tug on the strap of your bag. "I, um—" You flash her the coupon after pulling it out from your jacket pocket. "I have this coupon I wanted to redeem."
"Oh, fantastic! You came at a perfect time, we have lots of availability right now." She grabs some paperwork from behind the desk and walks back over to you as you sit on the clean sofa. "I'll go through these in a bit. But, I wanted to ask. Did you already have a particular type of massage in mind? If not, I can grab a pamphlet and we can go through any questions you might have in regards to our services."
"Hm. Do you guys offer hot stone massages?" Is the first that pops into your mind. It had always been something you wanted to try, especially seeing the ads and the promos at the hotels during work trips and conferences. Plus, you've heard about its benefits through word of mouth. If they were able to offer that here, why not get yourself a free hot stone massage? It might turn out to be exactly what you need.
"We sure do." She chuckles and sits next to you. "Why hot stone, if I may ask?"
"Well, besides the usual response of lowering stress, I just feel like my body is pretty.. tense? Lots of muscle tension, soreness, fatigue. I run a lot, try to get some boxing and pole dancing in. No matter how many times I go, I still feel like it's my first time." You chuckle nervously, afraid you've spilled way too much information than necessary. She didn't even ask. "Sorry, just felt like I needed to add that in there for some reason."
"No, that helps a lot. Thank you." She laughs. "I think that would be a great option for you. Our masseur is one of the most top-rated in the city." You nod, impressed. Were they now? "Here." She hands you a pen. "I just need you to fill out these medical intake forms—" She pushes the form closer to you. "And then sign these liability forms." She follows up with the last forms.
"Sounds good."
"Once you're done, I'll take you to a room to get situated before your masseur comes in." You nod once more, giving her eye contact before continuing your task of filling out the paperwork appropriately. Yannie heads back to support the front desk momentarily until she sees you walking towards her with the completed paperwork. She thanks you, takes the papers and hands it over to the front desk before nodding towards the back. "Follow me, I'll bring you to a room." You quietly follow behind, the back area of the establishment being much bigger than you expected. You pass two rather handsome and attractive males on the way to your room, both of them giving you a bright, white smile before continuing on their way. You make a mental note that maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.
A massage and eye candy? Shit, count me the fuck in.
You passed a line of rooms before Yannie turns towards an empty one near the end of the hallway. She lets out a breath for a moment before stepping aside to let you in, showing you to the side of the room where you could place your things.
"Hm, let me go grab your masseur so that you can be on your way, alright? You can place your things here if you'd like, but once he comes in, he'll have you undress down to your underwear and into a robe before getting you on the table." She gives you a smile before walking out and shutting your door. As you stand around awkwardly, you hear her outside asking for your particular masseur, which isn't the problem, but it's the name that catches you off guard—
"Where's Yoongi?" You hear her ask. Yoongi, as in Min Yoongi? You hoped that there was another Yoongi on this planet just to save you from making this session 10x more awkward and weird, but something inside you told you that no, he was the only Yoongi you knew of and that's exactly who this was.
Fuck.
"You have a client, she's in there already." You hear her down the hall, followed by a low 'alright.' Suddenly, the door swings open again and it's Yannie along with the Min Yoongi himself. You're caught off guard that you don't even speak. You simply look at him, eyes full of curiosity, full of question, as he with you. But, he's quick to furrow his brows before slowly walking inside, Yannie catching onto the sudden tension in the air.
"Um, this is Yoongi, your masseur." She clears her throat.
"Sure is." You say, still keeping your eyes on him.
"Have you two met before?"
"Yup." Yoongi says before turning to her with a small smile. "I got it from here boss, thanks." Yannie gives you one last smile before shutting the door and walking down the hallway to continue her previous tasks.
"Well, if you look who it is—" You say sarcastically, placing your things down onto the side. "I didn't know you worked here." You're saying things in a certain tone to make sure Yoongi doesn't see how much you're actually dreading this right now. Because you are, god, you fucking are, and you almost wish you didn't step foot into this establishment and ask for a hot stone massage.
Could've been anything else. You should have done your research before.
"Hm, there's alot of things you don't know about me anymore, Y/N." He says coldly. "Didn't think I'd ever see you here." He starts to look at the papers and gather his things together, his back turned against you.
"Yeah, well. Rissa gave me a birthday coupon." He nods silently. "H-how've you been?" You ask him, awkwardly rubbing at your arm.
"Good as can be." He says flatly before turning to look at you, no emotion to match his blank expression. You look at the way he's changed— his orange, long hair that suited him well, body built perfectly, jaw line shaped with perfection. You're pulled out of your thoughts when he turns once more, pointing towards the back of the room. "Gonna need you to undress and get into the robe. This time, might wanna keep your panties on." He gives you a look, and you aren't sure whether or not he's throwing shade at you for whatever problems you had caused him— you weren't sure. Maybe that's where you went wrong because at one point, you and Yoongi had been close. You and Yoongi had shared everything, you and Yoongi had been everything to each other. He was one of your closest friends, maybe at some points a little too close than friends normally would be, but that was your relationship with him and you both had been on the same page about it. He was always good to you, always taking care of you, always knowing what was best for you over him—
Then, it just.. stopped.
And you clearly never understood where you went wrong. At least, to your knowledge, it wasn't clear where you went wrong.
"Mmkay." Is all you say, heading behind the divider towards the back end of his room to change into the fresh, clean robe hanging on the other side of it. You slip out of your clothes, leaving your panties on as Yoongi ever so respectfully requested, and get the robe on. You tighten the strap, feeling shy around him even though Yoongi has definitely you full blown naked before.
He's touched you.
He's kissed you.
He's handled you.
It's been years, though.
"Get on the table face down, please. I'll start off with your back." He turns to you, meeting your eyes but nothing more. He's always been this way, he's always been hard to crack. You were just lucky you were able to at some point.
You do as you're told, slipping the robe off of you and tossing it aside when Yoongi turns around to give you some privacy. You lay face down onto the table, suddenly feeling Yoongi place a clean linen cloth to cover your sacrum and below. He looks at you for a minute because even though it's been awhile, he remembers everything about you, your body. He remembers the tiny mole right below your left shoulder blade, remembers the scar on your knee. He remembers where your spots used to be, where you liked to be touched, kissed.
He lets out a small huff before shaking his head at the thoughts that start to occupy his mind. There's soft music playing in the background to help ease the energy in the room, to help relax you and soothe you. And it does. Everything feels peaceful for a moment that you almost forget you're about to get a massage by Yoongi himself until—
"You ready? I'm gonna start with your back. Let me know if the stones get too hot for you." He says, dimming the lights just a bit, lighting some candles and incense.
"Mhm." You mumble. You hear Yoongi digging the stones out of the water bath, placing them gently on a towel in front of him before grabbing the oil and lathering his hands.
"I'm gonna start, alright? Gonna oil you up first." He says, his large, strong hands manually giving your back a good massage with the oil to introduce his touch, get your tissues warmed up. You immediately feel relaxed under his touch, all tension seemingly disappearing into thin air. He feels you ease up underneath him, hands with the magic touch you could almost call him Midas.
/ FLASHBACK
"Fuck." You giggle into Rissa's shoulder, red cup empty after the second, third, sixth [who fucking knows at this point] drink of the night.
"So drunk." She giggles along with you, sipping on water.
"God, I'm getting over this party though." You turn to look at your surroundings. "Look, literally no one is dancing anymore. Everyone is just standing around talking or—" You snort when you see one of your friends slumped on the couch. "Slumped."
"It's almost that time of the night, miss. We're crossing into 1AM."
"Ugh, I need to take my drunk ass home."
"No, you need Yoongi to take your drunk ass home." She lifts your chin to get you to look at her but you pout.
"You're not going home, huh?" You ask her, already knowing she was going to spend the night at her boyfriend's apartment.
"Mm, you know this." She laughs. "Your girl needs dick. Bad."
"Whatever."
"Saying it like you don't have the same fucking thought. Shame." She gives you a look.
"Where is heeeeee?" You elongate the 'he,' lip forming into another pout as you drunkily close your eyes.
"Your man's over there." She nods towards the living room, Yoongi standing along the wall with a few of his friends.
"He's not my man."
"Mm." She looks at you up and down. "Go over there before I have more shit to say." You laugh and start making your way over to Yoongi, immediately wrapping your hand around his wrist, chin resting against his bicep.
"You okay?" Yoongi chuckles at how adorable you look.
"Drunk. Just.. drunk."
"I see that." He moves his arm to drape it over your shoulders and pull you close. "Wanna get out of here?"
"Fuck, yeah. Please."
"Where to?"
"Home." You look at him and he nods. The both of you bid your farewell's to his friends before tossing your empty cups and heading out. Yoongi had one drink earlier in the night, but he had been sipping on soda onwards throughout the evening simply because he knew you needed him to take you home. In fact, he would rather let you have the time of your life and watch you have your fun instead of him. He loved seeing that side of you, loved seeing you full of life, full of fun.
It's what attracted him to you the most.
"You okay, princess?"
"Yeah, just wanna get the fuck out of these shoes." He laughs.
"Okay, almost there." He says, kissing your temple. When you finally head down the street to the car, Yoongi gets you situated in the seat before heading to the driver's side and getting himself situated. "You're not gonna yack, are you?" He laughs when he starts driving off towards your apartment.
"No, I'm fine. God." You roll your eyes and lean your head back against the head rest.
"I'm just playing, baby." He says, large hand roaming to your thigh and giving it a good squeeze. You let out a small whimper at his touch, Yoongi smirking to himself when he knows exactly what that means. "Gonna get you some water and make sure you sleep this shit off, I don't wanna hear you complain tomorrow."
"When do I ever complain?"
"All the fucking time, dude." He laughs. "Damn. You're lucky I like you." He quickly caresses your chin. The rest of the ride is quiet, nothing but the soft music playing in the background in his car, the sounds of cars passing by along with the train running through the tracks nearby your apartment building. He parks in a guest spot that's quite far, offering to carry you up to your apartment if you feel too tired. You let him know you're alright though, lacing your fingers with his as you make your way to your door. He grabs your keys, unlocks the door and watches as you stumble in and hurriedly get out of your shoes— tossing them off to the side messily.
"Thank God, ugh." You groan, falling face down onto your comfortable, comfortable bed. You hear Yoong in your kitchen, grabbing you a glass of water and going through your medicine cabinet before walking in to your room and shutting the door behind him.
"Here. Drink some water, please."
"And if I don't?" You tease, still face down against your pillow.
"I'll leave."
"That was unfair." You say, slowly sitting up to drink some of the water. His hand caresses your back as you drink, watching to make sure you get a good amount of water in you before you set the glass back down. Once you do, you immediately get to removing your clothes, tossing them aside and crawling under your sheets in just your bra and panties.
"You wanna sleep? You don't wanna stay up for a bit?" He says, grabbing the pair of basketball shorts he left behind in your closet so he can change into something comfier.
"And do what?"
"You're gonna have a headache in the morning, Y/N."
"It's fine, I'll deal with it when the morning comes." You whine. "Can you just come here and cuddle me like you typically do?" He chuckles.
"Yeah, yeah." He says, finally crawling in and throwing his arm around your waist even as you awkwardly lay on your stomach with a leg bent upwards. He begins to quietly massage your sides and down your back, fingers gently running a line down your spine. He listens to you let out a breath, body easing up under his touch like it always does. "Feels good?" He says nearing a whisper, close to your ear.
"Mhm." You let out breathily, eyes shut to feel more of his touch. You feel him unclasp your bra to work his hands deeper into your shoulders and either side of your spine. Yoongi always knew how to work his way with you, work his magic on you— so much that even this simple massage has you wanting more out of him. It's like that though. Your relationship with Yoongi was just like that. You turn to face him and his hand continues to linger on your side, giving it a squeeze when he looks down at your face, nose, down to your lips.
"Need a massage here, too?" He smirks, playing with the strap of your bra.
"You're an idiot." You giggle as he pulls you closer and completely gets rid of your bra while planting small, soft kisses along the surface of your neck. "Wasn't really planning on this, you know?"
"That's funny cause that's always the story, yet what do we always end up doing?" Your eyes flutter at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Your hands roam up to grip his hair just as he makes his way up to your jaw, cheek, kissing the tip of your nose before locking his lips with yours. You moan into the kiss as it deepens, your tongue instantly slipping into his. The only sounds that can be heard within your room are the cars passing by outside, mixed with the noises of wet kisses being exchanged.
You work your way to toss Yoongi's shirt aside, just as he works his way to hook his finger onto your panties and slip it off. You tease at his clothed, hardened cock by palming him through his shorts and he responds by feeling how wet your pussy is. You let out a small gasp when you feel his hand start rubbing at your pussy, spreading your wetness across your pussy lips.
"Just fuck me, Yoongi." You moan, already taking his cock from beneath his shorts before he can fully shred the piece of clothing.
"Yeah, I'm gonna take care of you, baby." He says, wasting no time to climb ontop of you, taking his cock and sliding it up and down your slit a few times to tease you.
"Please." You whine. "Need to feel you." He smirks and bites onto his bottom lip just as he takes his tip and breaches your entrance.
"God, you already feel so fucking good." He lets out. "So wet for me." He watches his cock sink into you, deeper and deeper, until he bottoms out completely.
"Ohhhhhmygod—" You arch your back slightly at the feeling of being full. Yoongi works at a slow pace at first, trying to get the right rhythm going as he cocks your legs wide open with his hands.
"Princess. Look at you. Creaming the fuck out of my cock." He says, looking down as he teasingly slips in and out of you. He begins to pick up his pace, rolling his hips into you as a hand grips onto your headboard to keep him steady, the other hand kept tightly on your hip. He starts to pound into you relentlessly, loving how delicious your walls feel wrapped around him tightly.
It always, always, always, keeps him wanting more of you.
"Yes, yes, yes— just like that—hmmmfuck!" You moan a bunch of jibberish together, nails digging crescents onto his arm. "Feels so fucking good." You continue to whine, whimper, begging him to keep going for you. He lowers his body so that he could run his hands up your hair, whispering praises in your ear as he strokes in and out at a steady speed.
Making you feel him, all of him, completely.
He always tells you how beautiful you are to him, how you're his baby, how there's no one who could make him feel the way you do.
How no one could ever come close to you.
And that's the one thing that always has you hurdling over the edge, reaching your orgasm much faster than expected. Because not only does he fuck you so, so good— but he praises you, knows just the right fucking words to say, knows just how to touch you in the right places.
You let out a loud moan, yelling his name as your eyes roll to the back of your head when your orgasm takes full control. His hand slides down to grip your neck, fucking you senselessly as he tries to reach his own high watching you cum all over his dick. And he does. It takes a few more thrusts, but before you know it, his lips are grazing yours, both of you letting out silent moans when he releases inside of you, painting your walls full of white ribbons.
He comes down from his high as he softens inside of you, lips pecking feathery kisses on yours before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. He grabs a napkin from your nightstand and gently wipes you clean before taking care of himself and throwing his arm back around you.
"You okay?" He brushes the hair out of your face before you roll onto your side.
"Definitely more sober now." You say, making him chuckle as he holds you close and kisses your shoulder.
"Good. At least I helped prevent the morning headache."
"Shut up." You chuckle.
"Anything for you." He continues to joke.
/ END FLASHBACK
After Yoongi gives your back a good introductory massage, he then turns to get the stones and holds them tightly in his palms. You feel the back of his hands work their way down on either side of your spine, all the way down to your sacrum, before coming back up. He repeats this process a few times before flipping his palms over and rolling the stones down the same path. He adds the right pressure against the surface of your skin, the heat just enough to penetrate and hit deeper into your tissue.
Yoongi doesn't even know how to feel right now with you being underneath him for a completely different reason today. And it's been years— years since you've last spoken, last talked.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't hurt all over again when he saw you.
You still looked beautiful as ever, still rocking that fine ass body with curves in all the right places. Yeah, he definitely wasn't hurt when you two ended up the way you did. He wish it never ended up that way. He wanted much, much more with you. You just never seemed to feel the same. But he couldn't dwell on it. Figured he'd just accept it and move on, even if that meant without you by his side. That was probably the hardest part all along. To be with you almost 24/7, to suddenly being without you at all. He had to do it though, for his own sake.
Yeah, he'd defnitely be lying if he said he wasn't hurt all over again when he saw you.
"Feels alright?" He dips lowly near your ear as he holds stones sideways and digs them deep into your shoulders, down your back, sacrum; always avoiding the spine directly.
"Mmm." Is all he hears. He continues to work all through your back and up to your neck before placing the stones down to rest along your spine. He places two tiny stones amongst your shoulders, guiding you to move your hand backwards one at a time, just so he can give you a good, deep, proper massage in between the scapula. Afterwards, he grabs new stones and moves down to your left leg. He uncovers it, gently massaging up and down your thigh, calf, in a circular motion with the stones, using them as an extension of his hands. He does this for awhile until he feels like he's done enough, the heat slowly moving away from the stones in his palms. So, he sticks a stone on the back of your knee where the bend is, and takes the other stone down to your foot for a soft massage— flipping the stone as needed to distribute the heat along your foot properly. Once he's finished with his final touches, he places the stone in the middle of your foot, covers the entire leg with the linen cloth and repeats the same process on your right leg.
You're sinking in and out of sleep while Yoongi massages you, all of a sudden forgetting the heated, awkward tension in the air as he continues to work his magic throughout your body. For a moment, you don't regret stepping foot into the establishment. For a moment, you don't ponder on your worries and why things feel so fucking tense between you and Yoongi. Then it hits you when he clears his throat in the background that yeah, your relationship, friendship— whatever the hell you wanted to call it— was cut off so abruptly. Seeing him made you really miss having him around. Because besides Rissa, he was someone you were able to lean on, have fun with, be yourself around.
There was no pressure with Yoongi before.
Now, there's a ton.
Pressure to, what? Fix things? Talk about things? Figure out where it went so, so wrong that he had upped and left, cutting off all ties with you without reason? You don't even know where or how to start.
"Y/N." He repeats.
"Hm?"
"I said I need you to flip over so I can work on the front of your body." You're nervous. God, you're nervous. It's like you were trying to impress him all over again, the same Min Yoongi that you had the fattest fucking crush on. The same Min Yoongi that you could do all that shit with, but could never admit that you had feelings for.
You hold onto the linen cloth as you carefully turn yourself over on the table, Yoongi once again giving you the privacy you need by turning his back. When he feels like he's given you enough time, he turns to see you pulling the linen cloth over your chest. He walks over, taking his biggest stone into another towel and wrapping it tightly before placing it down on your abdomen.
"That feel okay? Gonna leave this here while I work through your arms and legs."
"Yeah, that feels nice."
"Cool." He says, pressing it down ever so slightly just so you could feel the heat against your abdomen. He starts with your left leg, following the same rhythm he had when he massaged the back of your leg earlier. He takes the stones around your thigh, down to your calf, and works it in small circular motions before repeating the same up and down motion he had done before. He then takes the stone, places it underneath the bend of your knee and take the other to your foot. He gently grips your foot, working the stone in small motions against the surface before his touch disappears and he moves onto the next leg.
His touch.
You remember feeling cold without his touch.
After massaging your leg, he takes a moment to grab another warm towel and places it over your breasts before sliding the linen cloth down below your abdomen.
"Gonna give you a quick abdomen massage. The towel feel okay?" You let out a small 'mhm' before you hear him take a stone from behind you. He slowly introduces his touch against your abdomen, watching your body react to his touch.
His touch.
You remember how you used to react to his touch.
His touch is soft, gentle, when he presses into your abdomen, applying the right pressure as he goes on just as he realizes you're comfortable again. He takes a stone and proceeds with double-handed kneading that followed the pattern along your colon.
He makes his way up to work with your left arm, hooking the stone into the palm of his hand while he uses the other for support— gently running it up your arm and over your shoulder, back down towards your wrist. He switches to another stone and turns your hand over; starting from your palm and working his way up to your axillary node, then back down. Afterwards, he takes both stones in his hands, running it back all the way up before gently kneading as he comes back down. He leaves a stone under your hand before taking two long stones to do some manipulation around your shoulders. Once he feels like he has finished your left arm, he repeats the process on your right.
"That felt nice." Yoongi smirks at your sudden comment.
"That's the goal." He says, fixing the linen cloth over your body, tucking it in neatly so that your upper chest is properly exposed to him. "We're almost done here. I'll work on your upper chest and do a facial massage, okay? Then you'll be out of here."
"What if I don't wanna be out of here? It's too relaxing." You mumble.
"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way." He chuckles. "Relax." He closes off the quick conversation by soothing your upper chest, working his hands around, up the shoulders and neck just to warm up the tissue. He repeats the process but this time, takes his two long stones and works them in, running it across your chest and in circular motions around the shoulders. He places them right beneath your collarbones so you can continue feeling the heat penetrate your tissues before taking two smaller stones to your face. He works the stones in an outward motion on your cheek, your forehead, in between your eyes— before working in an upward motion along the same path. Then, he grabs two stones a size up, working it behind the neck, ear and into the hairline in smaller motions. He sets the stones aside, now finishing off the massage by working his fingers deep into your scalp, down to your temples, keeping his hands over your ears for a brief moment to let the heat and energy transfer over. "How do you feel?" He says lowly near your ear, the vibrations in his tone somehow still able to send a tingle down your spine after all these years.
"Really good."
"Yeah? That's good." He says, hands gently gliding down your neck, back to the surface of your chest before he removes the stones. "Hope that was a nice session for you."
"Way more than that. Thank you." He smiles to himself before turning towards the counter, placing the rest of his supplies back on the surface to remind himself to do some good cleaning and disinfecting before his next client.
"Take your time when you get up and get ready, alright? Don't get up too fast." You open your eyes, still feeling calm, relaxed, as your body feels every inch of the table.
"Can't I just stay?" You joke.
"No can do." Yoongi chuckles a bit.
"Hey." You call for him. "This might sound a little crazy to ask but, do you think we can catch up? It's been a long time, and quite frankly, I wasn't really expecting to run into you here." He turns over his shoulder before shaking his head.
"I don't know. I don't really think there's much for us to catch up on."
"You said it yourself, there's alot of things I don't know about you anymore. We used to be close—"
"Used to be." He says quite harshly when he cuts you off. "And yeah, just cause I said that, doesn't mean it's shit you need to know." He sighs, pushing his things aside before looking at you. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way, but you're right. It's been years, and to be honest, part of me just wants to leave it in the past like it should be kept in the past. I don't really know if there's much for us to talk about."
"Please don't be like that. I'm trying to figure out where things went wrong. It's always bothered me that we ended up this way." He shrugs.
"You ever think that maybe this is just how things were meant to be?" He says, giving you one last look, his tongue licking his bottom lip. "It was really nice to see you though, Y/N. Hope you had a good time." He says before grabbing the door knob and twisting it, not really expecting you to be back for another session after all of this. "Again, no rush. My next client isn't until an hour from now." With that, he walks out and shuts the door, leaving you to your own peace.
You were relaxed. Felt blissful, felt at ease.
But now, you aren't so sure. You aren't sure if you wanna break down and cry, if you wanna run after him and beg for him to just talk to you.
You just aren't sure.
So you get up and walk over to the back, throwing on your clothes before lazily tossing the robe into the hamper placed near the divider. You let out a breath before grabbing the knob and twisting it, revealing an empty hallway with a few closed doors in front of you. No Yoongi in sight though, and you can't help but feel a bit heavy walking out of the session as if you didn't just receive a hot stone massage from him.
"Hey! How was it?" Yannie asks, reading your expression as you walk out and tug on your unzipped hoodie. You give her a small, toothless smile and nod, hoping to be on your way quickly.
"It was great!" You simply say with a nod. "Definitely will be back." You lie, mainly because you aren't really sure where this leaves you with Yoongi even if you wanted to be back for one. Shit, that massage was everything you needed and more.
"Good to hear, we'll see you again soon then." She smiles before waving you off.
Fuck.
As for the rest of the day, you do take the time to walk around town, run into a few stores to window shop and eat at the nearby mom and pop Vietnamese restaurant for a good ol' bowl of pho. Mainly out of enjoyment for your day off, moreso because your thoughts were starting to plague your mind and you needed a distraction.
If anything, today taught you that you really needed to take more time out of your busy schedule to slip in some self-care. So, that's what you do to end your night just as well as you started it [you like to think]. You run some hot water and bubbles, pour a glass of red, red wine and light up some incense, candles.
"Wait—" Rissa says while you have her on speaker, phone sitting on the toilet cover. "Yoongi was your masseur?!”
"Yuuuup." You say, sipping on your red wine.
"Oh, this is some shit." She laughs. "Wish I could get my ass on that first flight home so I could see how you look right now."
"Don't even try it."
"Well, tell me the massage was at least worth it."
"It was, very much so." She chuckles.
"But?"
"But, what?"
"There's a 'but' in that sentence. Now, spill."
"It's just weird. We fell off so abruptly, there was no closure. I just wish we could talk about things, I'm not entirely sure where things went wrong between us and it kinda sucks now that I've seen him again."
"I know Yoongi has always meant a lot to you, Y/N. But you could never admit it to him, yourself, even. Don't you think that has a lot to do with this?"
"W-what? That's not true."
"See, there you go again." You sigh.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Think about it. Not saying that's it, there could be other reasons and the only person who would really know is Yoongi since we know what your side is like, but we don't know his."
"I don't know what to do. Should I go back?"
"What, for a massage or for Yoongi?" She laughs. "Or both, I guess."
"Both." You slip a bit further down into the water. "He was pretty direct today. I don't think he wants to talk about it, but part of me can't really let that go."
"You've always been stubborn like that. But, it's good, you know? You always go for what you want without giving up. I say go for it. If he really, really doesn't wanna see you and talk about things after this, then don't force it. Maybe he's right. It sucks to say, but maybe that's really how you two were supposed to end up." You sigh.
"Yeah, yeah." You respond simply, shutting your eyes as you let the hot water seep in and continue to relax your muscles. It was hard to say. Yoongi did mean a lot to you. He was someone you always had fun with, someone you could trust, someone who took care of you even when you didn't ask.
Of course, he meant a lot to you.
Of course, you wouldn't let that go after seeing him again.
But of course, Yoongi's detached and you're having to break through his walls yet again— most likely due to something you did that you weren't even aware of.
"You're back!" Yannie exclaims when she sees you walk through the door shyly.
"I am. I probably should have called beforehand, but I wasn't sure if I was going to make it in time before the last slot." You rub your hands together. "Is Yoongi here?"
"He sure is, and you just got lucky. His last spot cancelled not too long ago." Yannie shrugs.
"Sweet."
"He's with someone right now, but the session will be over—" She glances at the time. "Pretty soon, actually. Take a seat and get comfortable for now, alright?" She smiles, handing you one form to sign. You silently take the form with you, reading through the liability language again as you take your pen and get ready to sign at the line on the bottom half of the page. Sooner or later, you hear some giggling and a female voice echoing in the back hallway, a pretty, young lady coming through with Yoongi following behind her.
His smile drops almost instantly when he sees you sitting there. But it's not cause he's mad or anything, no. He could never be that mad at you after everything, could never hold a big grudge against you. He's just surprised that you're back, and he's also [surprisingly] relieved to see you're back.
Your eyes, and that smile.
The way you always used to hold onto him and hold his hand, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes.
Your laugh.
He could never be that mad at you.
"Hey, I know your last client cancelled, but Y/N is here hoping to grab that slot." Yoongi nods.
"Yeah, it's no problem." He looks at the young lady in front of him as she bats her lashes and sways her hips while walking towards the door.
"See you next session, Yoonks?" She calls him a weird nickname that falls off her tongue so poorly. God.
"Of course." He smiles shyly, hand coming to the nape of his neck as he watches her walk out. He finally turns his attention towards you and clears his throat when he realizes you had been watching the interaction the entire time. "I um, just need to clean up in there a bit then I'll be ready for you. Give me a couple of minutes."
"Okay." Is all you say before finally scribbling your fucking signature on that line. Oh, Yoonks. Hope she isn't the one you're slipping in bed with. Your heart would be crushed to know he already had someone, even though you knew it was a high possibility after all this time. You couldn't be selfish with him forever.
Sooner or later, you're pulled out of your thoughts when Yoongi peeks his head out into the waiting area and taps the door frame. He purses his lips together when he looks at you and nods.
"Ready?"
"Mmyeah." You get up to follow him.
"Enjoy!" Yannie exclaims when she sees you follow him to the back. You quietly continue on, setting your things aside like you had done before when you step into the room and Yoongi shuts the door behind him.
"Was that your girlfriend, or something?" You tease.
"No. Repeat client." He looks at you before turning. "Somehow, I know you aren't really here for the massage." He fiddles with his things on the counter.
"I mean, I am. I could really use one."
"But you wanna try and talk, don't you?" You silently excuse yourself behind the divider to change and slip the robe on.
"Maybe. I won't push it." You say, tying the robe close before taking a seat on the edge of the table.
"Mm, but you always push it." He softly chuckles. "There's no stopping Y/N when she's determined to get what she wants." He turns to look at you, white tee hugging his body so nicely— you can't help but ogle a bit when he steps in front of you.
"No, not anymore necessarily." You try and cover your shit up even though both him and Rissa are right. You know this.
"Right." He lets out a little laugh. "You wanna lie down so we can get this started?" He walks over to the cabinets, grabbing a fresh, clean pair of linens in his hands. When he turns, he catches you removing your robe and covering your breasts when you're about to lie down. He quickly turns because quite frankly, he shouldn't even be in here for this— but, it's you.
You know this, too.
"I'm ready." You tell him, placing your face into the cushion comfortably.
"Cool." He says, draping your lower body with the linen in his hand, tucking it gently into your sides to make you feel even more comfortable. He makes his way to the front, preparing to manually massage you before adding the stones just so he can introduce his touch again. "Gonna start, alright? Relax, breathe in and out. I'll massage you without the stones first to get your tissues warmed up."
"Okay." You pause before calling for him again. "Yoongi?" You let out a little weirdly with the pressure he's adding onto your back.
"Hm?"
"What really happened between us?" He chuckles.
"And here you were, trying to tell me you weren't gonna push the agenda. Do you have to do this now? Mid-hot stone massage?" You head the clacking of the stones against each other before he starts working it into your back. He's right, it honestly feels too good for you to speak properly, but you felt like this was the only way— the only option, so to speak. His number had changed, he wasn't necessarily on social media. Didn't live at home with his parents anymore.
How else could you contact him besides seeing him for a massage?
"What other choice do I have?"
"I already told you there isn't much to talk about."
"Yeah, so why are we so awkward with each other?"
"It's been years."
"Why has it been years, Yoongi?" He sighs, head falling before he continues to work your back.
"It's your massage, don't blame me if you don't feel completely rested afterwards." He caves, gives in, knowing he can't ever say no to you. He can't ever be that mad, no.
You know that.
"I'm not gonna lie to you, Y/N. I was pretty upset with you when we spoke last. Do you even remember when that was?" He speaks up again.
"In college, yeah." You let out a small sigh when he deeply massages near the shoulder blades.
"So, you don't exactly remember?"
"Yoongi, I don't. Okay? I'm sorry." He should've expected it. He remembers that scene so clearly in his head, it almost aches him. He really did like you, Y/N. Min Yoongi was so much in like with you that he wanted to stop being friends with benefits, and he wanted more out of it. He was sure you two could take it there, no doubt. You fit each other well. So, so well—
Until you didn't.
/ FLASHBACK
"Sorry, I need to go find Y/N soon. She said she wanted to kick it." Yoongi tells his friend, Akio.
"What, for a quick fuck?" He laughs, making Yoongi shake his head.
"Shut the fuck up. She's not just a quick fuck. That girl means a lot to me, alright?" Yoongi catches the way Akio's face falls, moreso into confusion.
"Wait, you're not serious, right?"
"I'm pretty sure I am." Yoongi responds sarcastically, a little thrown off at the way he's taking the news right now. Was there something he wasn't aware about? Last time he checked, even if you two weren't serious, you both were exclusively just fucking around with each other and each other only.
Yoongi could be completely wrong at this point, though. But he hoped he wasn't. He really respected you and cared about you more than anyone he has ever crossed paths with, and the foundation of your friendship, that closeness you two had before anything, meant everything to him. He would never fuck that up. That's why he always checked in with you, always made sure that what you two were doing was still okay. He would never wanna disrespect you or make you feel uncomfortable. He never wanted to step out of line, or even hurt you in the slightest bit.
"Look, I just thought you two settled on the fact that you were friends with benefits, that's all."
"What do you know that I don't?"
"Nothing, man. That's it."
"Don't lie to my face, dude." Yoongi gives off a nervous chuckle. "What did she say to you?"
"She's been telling people that you two weren't serious and that she couldn't really see you two together like that.. or— that she couldn't see you like that." Ouch. Yoongi's fucking hurt, alright. And if that wasn't enough, Yoongi catches the way Akio looks past his shoulder, so he follows his gaze. He turns to see you flirting with the hot soccer boy on campus, Kane, who was also notorious for sleeping around and messing with other females at the same time.
Great.
Fucking great.
Because he knows you wouldn't turn that down— no, the fuck you wouldn't.
And he wishes he was wrong because the moment he sees you hold onto his arm and let him walk you up into the dormitory, his heart sinks. Shatters to pieces. Everything feels numb.
He thought you two were on the same page. Clearly, you weren't. He could never be that mad at you, though. Because he's always gonna have it for you, always gonna have that soft spot for you and hold you close, even if you were meant to stray away, even if you were meant to be kept at a distance.
He could never be that mad at you, no.
"I'm sorry my guy, I really thought you two had been on the same page. I didn't wanna be the first to break it to you like that. Maybe you should talk to her."
"No, it's good. You're right, it's really not that serious." He lies.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, it's whatever." Akio shrugs.
"Alright then, I'm just saying. It could be good for you two to talk. It seems like there's still a disconnect somewhere." Yoongi ignores his added statement and pats him on the back.
"Gotta go, catch you later." He thought you two were close enough, thought he could read every inch of you, be that person who knew you like the back of his hand. He thought he had the privilege of having that much access to you because god, never in a million years would he have guessed. It started off so innocently, started off as two friends going through college together, before it grew into something more.
He wished it could blossom into more.
But now, maybe he truly does have to keep you at a distance. Keep you away, treat you like your mind and heart had been somewhere else this entire time.
Fuck.
Later that evening, Yoongi runs into you after you finish up a review session in the library. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight, but there was no turning back. You weren't even aware that he knew about the things you said, seeing you with Kane earlier today. You knew nothing.
"Hey." You giggle, swinging your arms around him, but he gently pries it off and continues to walk towards his dorm. "Wait, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just having an off day." He says, keeping his head hung low.
"What happened?"
"Classes, homework. Lots of stuff to do."
"Oh, okay. That's it?" You nervously chuckle. "You got it, champ. I know you'll get through it." You playfully punch at his bicep, but he doesn't respond. "Okay, well, I'm sorry it's been a bad day." You awkwardly rub at your arms, stopping in your tracks. "I'm gonna go hang out with Kane and his friends, alright? Let me know if you need me."
"Mhm." He says, brushing you off completely and walking into this dormitory building.
/ END FLASHBACK
"I was waiting for you to try and figure out what was wrong. I wanted you to come to me and fix things, like I always do when something is off between us—" He works his way to your left arm. "With you. But the one night I needed you to do the same, you couldn't. Then you proceeded to tell me you were gonna go off and hang out with Kane and his friends." He says, working the stones down your arm.
"I wish you could have just told me."
"Y/N. You knew something was wrong, but you just didn't try to fix it. You didn't really care in the moment. The only thing you cared about was yourself and benefitting for yourself." You aren't really sure how to respond because now that you think about the moment, he was right. You knew something was off, but you didn't care enough to try and fix it. Yoongi had always been there for you, had always put you before anyone and anything.
And the one time he expected you to pull your own weight, even as a good friend [all benefits and fuckbuddy shit aside], you couldn't do that for him.
"I'm sorry."
"I mean." He chuckles, covering your arm with the linen before moving down to your leg. "Doesn't really matter anymore, right?"
"Of course it does. I'm sorry it had to take this for me to realize but it really fucked me up that we just stopped talking. I was dumb." You mumble.
"You're not dumb, don't say things like that." He adds.
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't apologize anymore. It's fine. I shouldn't have made it such a big deal."
"It is a big deal." He sighs a bit. "Can I ask you something?"
"Mhm."
"Were you really hurt about the whole Kane thing?"
"Are you really asking me this?"
"Right." You subtly shake your head. "I take it back—"
"Of course I was hurt." He continues to reply anyway. "I thought we were on the same page. We were for awhile. My feelings for you grew, and I thought we'd eventually make our way into something bigger than just being friends with benefits. I cared a lot about you, I tried to do a lot of things to show you that you were something special to me. You always came first because I had never had someone make me feel comfortable in my own skin the way that you did. Then—" He gently massages your foot with the stone before moving onto your other leg, introducing is touch just like he did before. "When I found out you were messing with other people and telling other people you didn't really see me that way, it fucked me up."
"Yoongi." You turn your head to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of him somehow.
"Nah, it's okay. You wanted an explanation so I'm giving it to you. Really, there's no need to try and apologize for it now. It's all in the past and I kinda just wanna leave it that way." You're a tad bit hurt at the way he won't accept the apology, but part of you understood that it took way too long for you to realize that something you had done affected him in ways you could only imagine.
"I should've done better." Is all you can say. He doesn't respond to it, though. Just continues to massage you, make you feel good like he always has done. You feel a little awkward now, lowkey regretting the fact that you came here with the sole intention to get Yoongi to talk about what happened between you two. Although, it was definitely something you needed to hear. Where to go from here though? You had no idea how to navigate this. What if this was it? After seeing him, you didn't want it to be. You wanted to try and fix this, even with knowing that it was close to impossible to bring back what you two had before.
That's the only thought that continued to plague your mind at this moment; the only thought that repeated itself over and over again that you didn't even realize you were now having to face him as you switch onto your back to let Yoongi massage the front of your body.
"You can relax, you know?" He looks you in the eye, a little confused as to why you're just plainly staring at him as he starts the front body massage.
"I'm sorry." You repeat, close to a whisper. "I just wanna fix things between us. I know it's a little late, but better late than never right?"
"Mm, I'm always going to have a soft spot for you Y/N.. but in a way where I can just support you and care about you from a distance. I think we work better that way."
"Do we, though?"
"These past years kinda say so, don't you think?"
"But that's because I didn't know any better." He shrugs.
"It seemed to be fine." He simply states.
"Were you, though? I missed you, a lot. I just didn't know how else to reach out to you before, or where to even find you."
"Don't say things you don't mean." He lets out a tiny breath, pursing his lips together.
"I do mean that. I thought about us, you, a lot. I missed the way you cared for me and how you were always there for me. I missed how you always made me feel so special." You stop there, even though you can go on and on about how Yoongi made you feel back in the days. That lingering feeling of attachment, of needing his touch, his cuddles, the way he never let you down. Fuck, he was so good to you. You let him get away.
"Sounds like this is purely for your benefit."
"You can't say we didn't make each other happy."
"You did make me happy, I just wasn't the case for you."
"Of course you made me happy."
"Kinda hard to believe." He says flatly. "Look, I said what I needed to say. I think that's what you wanted, right? I've just come to the conclusion that we're better off the way that we ended up. You'll always mean something to me, no matter what. Don't get me wrong. But, I think we both just need to continue moving on and leaving that where it belongs." Suddenly the room feels hot and tense, especially when he's incredibly close to your ear, close to your face, your lips. His hands continue to travel down your body, working his touch like he's always been so good at doing.
You leave it at that, though. Respecting his wishes, not wanting to push any further to avoid more issues. Although it fucking kills you, and you wish you could just snap your fingers and you and Yoongi could return to your old ways like shit never happened.
You should've known better, you could have done better. You were too selfish to try at the moment, and now you're laying here wondering how things could have been if you just tried a little harder for him.
He's the one that got away.
Maybe he was right, maybe there really was no coming back from this. Maybe it was just better this way.
When the massage comes to a close, Yoongi softly lets you know that the session has concluded, but doesn't say much. He doesn't offer for you to come back like the first time you came here, doesn't really offer much in general. You quietly get up to change behind the divider, tossing the robe into the hamper while Yoongi tidies up his room for closure tonight. When he hears you come out from behind the divider, he simply gives you a look over his shoulder before returning his attention to his supplies beneath his hands.
"You feel alright?" He decides to ask anyway.
"I guess so." You dig your hands into your pockets. "Thank you."
"Of course." He finally turns to fully look at you, eyes locking onto yours as his tongue comes out to meet the corner of his mouth. You don't pull your gaze away for a bit, his look still giving you those same old butterflies you used to feel when he used to give you the same look back in the day. His eyes used to say a lot about how he felt about you without the need to actually say it out loud. He watches as you grab one of his business cards and scribble something on the back before handing it to him.
"Just know that I'm really sorry, and I really wish we could fix things. Or, I could fix things. I should have done better for you, especially when I knew I felt more for you than what I showed at the time." He sees that you had written your number on the back of one of his business cards, eyes locked on it as it sits in his hand. "In case you ever needed it." You give him one last look before giving him a tiny, toothless smile and excusing yourself out of his room.
Don't get it twisted, though. You do feel relieved he at least told you what was going through his head at the time, and what had happened between the two of you. But, the majority of you felt guilty, and you weren't sure how you'd fix this without forcing the connection, without forcing what wasn't meant to be.
Damn.
"Sorry, I just came out of my massage and got home." You place the phone against your ear as you step into your apartment.
"How was it?" Rissa asks with a small giggle.
"I don't even know, Rissa. I think I may have just fucked this up for good. I shouldn't have gone back."
"Don't say that. Tell me what happened." She says, hearing another sigh leave your lips as you place your bag and keys down.
"I'm so stupid, Rissa. I should have known he was hurt by the whole Kane thing. I should have told him the truth."
"Girl, not to be the 'I told you so' bitch, but I am gonna be that bitch and say I told you so." She says directly. "I knew you were caught up at the time cause Kane was giving you the attention, who wouldn't? But you going around saying the things you said about Yoongi and denying that entire thing was definitely going to backfire."
"God, I was so fucking selfish and dumb." You lay back against your couch and let your head rest back, now remembering the times you brushed Yoongi off without even realizing.
"We live and we learn, at least now you know." Rissa says.
"I apologized, though. I really did try to talk to him about it."
"I'm sure he appreciates it, love. What else did he say?"
"Nothing. He just thinks that maybe we really were meant to fall off and be this way. He was saying that after all these years, it just seems better. He just wants to keep it that way and keep it in the past."
"Maybe he just needs time to think. I'm sure it was hard on his part, especially having to unexpectedly face it again. You know Yoongi doesn't trust a lot of people, and you probably were the one person he could fully trust. I'm sure it hurt him a lot." She says softly.
"I don't know what to do now. I left him my number but fuck, I don't even think he'll use it. He probably trashed it the moment I left the room."
"Just give it time. Again, if it really is meant to be, then it'll happen in time. If not, then I hate to say it, but maybe he's right, hun."
"I hate to think of it that way. God. Why didn't I just realize it at the time?"
"We were young and dumb. It was college. We weren't worried about all this because we wanted to have fun."
"Doesn't make it an excuse." You sighed heavily. "I don't know. I really can't do anything to force it, so I'll just let it be like you like said." There's a small pause before Rissa speaks again.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I will be." You shake your head, not wanting to think more about the situation for the rest of the night. "So, tell me all about what you did today, please? What fun did you get into?" She hears it in your voice, and as your bestfriend, she knows very well that you don't like to stress too much about things. So, she gives you what you want. Gives you the full details of her day so that the both of you can pick at the little things and go off on tangents.
Just so you no longer have to think about Yoongi for tonight.
But that's the opposite case for Yoongi, even if he didn't want it to be the case. Because the moment he gets home from work, all he can think about is you.
He hates that this is always the case with you, hates that he always has that soft spot for you no matter how direct or blunt he can get. Hates how you always have him in some kind of hold, hates how after all these years, you can still make him weak in one way or another.
But he'll never be that mad at you, no. He can never be that mad at you.
/ FLASHBACK
"Hey." Yoongi whispers, slipping into your dorm bed around 2AM. You were fast asleep, cuddled up in your blankets. But, you always left your door open especially for Yoongi to slip himself in.
"You're so cold." You mumble against the sheets, scooting to make room for Yoongi to situated himself in your bed next to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, instantly wanting some of the heat you radiated under the covers. "Yoooongi." You whine, trying to pry his arms off of you.
"Baby, you're so warm though." He snuggles against your neck. "Missed you." You continue to whine a bit until you feel him warming up behind you.
"How was Akio's birthday outing?"
"Fun. Kinda drunk, not gonna lie."
"I see." You chuckle a bit, eyes still closed as you turn to face him and snuggle against his chest.
"Been too long without you."
"Shut up." You giggle, eyes slowly flickering as you look at him in the dark.
"Did you miss me?"
"No."
"Fucking liar." He laughs, pulling you closer. He places a peck on your forehead before moving down to the tip of your nose and your lips. You giggle when he continues to give you small, feathery kisses against your lips, playfully pushing him away to get some air.
"You're so fucking affectionate right now. Gross."
"Just missed you." He squeezes your thigh and pulls you near, your waist tucked as close as possible to his crotch. You liked it when he did this shit though, always telling you how much he missed you, how much he wanted you. Always made you feel good, feel special. "Can I kiss you, please?" He looks at you, brushing the hair away from your face and off your shoulder.
"You still have to ask?" You turn a bit, laying on your back with your head turned towards his direction.
"I always have to ask. I never like to assume." He says, large hand coming to cup your cheek. "C'mere." His thumb caresses the surface as he slowly brings your face closer to his, eyes drawn to yours, then down to your lips. When you feel his soft lips press a light kiss against your own, you can't help but release all the butterflies in your tummy. You feel tingles run down your spine, your arms, entire body, even as he continues to deepen his kisses.
It's a quiet night. The only sounds that fill the room are the sweet, soft, slow kisses being exchanged between the two of you. And it was perfectly fine. There were no expectations to fulfill any other need besides being in each other's company and enjoying each other's kisses.
His hand slips down to your sides, giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulls you closer, peppering your jaw and the surface of your neck with feathery kisses. He hungrily moves back to your lips, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling it back with a soft pop. You moan against the next kiss, tugging on his shirt as his hand roams inside of yours.
"Can we fuck already?"
"Not what I came here for." He chuckles when he pulls back from the kiss. "Just wanted to kiss you and cuddle you to sleep."
"Wow, are you being foreel?" You kinda laugh in his face, unsure if he was serious or not.
"Seriously." He edges his face to kiss you some more on the neck, letting him do whatever he wanted to do to you.
Which was that; it was just that. And sometimes, you really did enjoy this part of having Yoongi around— where there was nothing but safety, comfort. No strings attached.
/ END FLASHBACK
The flashback comes into Yoongi's mind after he steps out of the shower, your constant 'I'm sorry's' repeating in his head while he looked at his own business card sitting next to his phone on the bathroom sink counter.
More like your voice repeating in his head, the look on your face repeating in his head. Your eyes, lips.
He can never forget those.
The towel hangs loosely on his waist, water drips down his orange hair, down his chest. He lets out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone, clicking his teeth when he grabs the card.
"Fuck." He mumbles to himself when he types in your number and decides to send a text. A lousy, little text—
[unknown number] 8:53am: coming by again any time soon?
[unknown number] 8:54am: it's yoongi btw
He's definitely lost his touch. He does a slight head tilt when he tosses his phone aside, waiting for your response. Albeit, he hasn't really had a relationship since he was messing with you. Had a few fuckbuddies on the side to try and get rid of the shit you put him through. Nonetheless though, it was never going to compare.
You look at your phone, startled at the sudden notification [especially since it wasn't your family or Rissa]. You look at Yoongi's text for a little bit, unsure if you're relieved he actually put your number to use or if you're nervous about interacting with him some more.
[y/n] 8:58am: why do you ask?
[yoongi] 9:01am: promos happening, just thought you should know
You smirk. That was a terrible lie, and he should've known better than to pull that one.
[y/n] 9:05am: riiiight.. lol. thought about coming later today. could use another massage after this proposal takes everything out of me. wasn't sure if i'd try another kind of massage tho.
[yoongi] 9:07am: you don't want the other dudes here, trust me
[y/n] 9:08am: and why not??
[yoongi] 9:11am: just cause. let me know if you're stopping by, ok? i'm free at 4.
[y/n] 9:12am: yoongi, i know you aren't really just texting me about some promos..
[yoongi] 9:14am: i mean i am
[yoongi] 9:15am: listen, i just want you to know that i didn't mean to come off rude or anything last session. i'm sorry, alright? you know i never mean to hurt you, but i also had to be real with you
[y/n] 9:17am: heard you loud & clear.
[yoongi] 9:18am: so coming by later today?
[y/n] 9:20am: sure, i guess so. why not.
[yoongi] 9:21am: kk
[y/n] 9:22am: why do you want me to come by so badly?
[yoongi] 9:23am: just think we need to re-do last session, felt kinda bad
[yoongi] 9:25am: i gotta run, i'm about to be fucking late and i haven't even left the house yet. i'll see u later
You look at your phone in slight disbelief. This was starting to sound a bit like the Yoongi you knew, however, you were still confused as to why he wanted you to come by so badly.
Plus, he didn't even want you to try the other services they had to offer because he felt like he needed to re-do the last session?
He was up to something. Even if he wouldn't say it directly.
But really, you knew it was easy for Yoongi to feel bad. He never liked making you upset in any way possible, never liked making you feel like you weren't worth his time or effort. Because you always were worth it, you were always going to be worth it to him.
When you left the other day, he couldn't help but feel a tad bit guilty about his tone and how he came off. He never intended for it to be that way. Sure, he was hurt. But he wasn't going to fight fire with fire. Seeing you made him miss you, too. He was afraid to admit it, but he'll say it now. He does miss you. He misses how things used to be. And maybe it won't ever go back to that 100%, but he'd enjoy having you back in his life one way or another.
That's why he doesn't want you to try the other services and see his colleagues. They had their own shit going on too, anyway. He tends to be pretty selfish with you, whether he realizes it or not.
Your day goes by stressfully, with this month-long proposal finally being submitted as a final draft to your boss. You had put in so much time and effort into this, fixing every single detail down to the T to make sure it was to his liking. He has you walk through the proposal from beginning to end, suggesting teeny tiny last n
minute edits before he tells you that the proposal is beautiful and that it should be good to go after the last corrections have been made.
A relief.
You definitely deserved this massage, especially since you worked so hard, so long, on this shit [that wasn't necessarily even your responsibility] and took the project under your wing with grace.
Waltzing into Blissful Hands a bit before 4PM, the waiting room is a bit more packed than you the past two times you've been here. Yannie gives you a wave, signaling for you to do the same routine before seeing Yoongi. You sit there awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers until you see Yoongi poke his head out from the hallway to give you an 'i'm ready for you' nod. You purse your lips together and follow him to his room— this time, candles lit, incense burning.
"Uh, wow." You set your things aside. "Those smell really nice."
"Figured I'd help you relax a bit more this time." He looks at you. "How are you feeling today?"
"Good I guess, finally fucking finished that proposal I've been working on for months."
"Yeah?" He licks his bottom lip before turning. "That's good. Assuming you're in marketing like you've always dreamed of getting into?" You shrug before walking towards the back divider.
"Mhm." It's quiet for a moment as you switch out of your clothes and get into the robe, gently sitting on the edge of the table while your feet dangle as Yoongi prepares the rest of his supplies. He finally turns and comes towards you, hand brushing the hair away from your shoulder.
"Is it okay if I start with the front today?" He asks you.
"Do you always do that?"
"Sometimes, If I wanna switch it up."
"You know best." He chuckles a bit.
"Lie down, please." He hands you a smaller linen to cover your breasts when you slip out of the robe and lie down in the position he needs you to be in.
"Did you really feel bad for last time?"
"Kinda, yeah. Not gonna lie. Didn't want you to think I was coming off like a dick."
"Maybe just a tad. Understandable though. It's my fault."
"Sorry." He says. "I am happy to see you again, you know?" He says softly. "You always win."
"Win?" You watch as he drips some oil down your arm, eyes locking onto yours as he places the tiny bottle down. He starts to work his hands down your arm and up to your shoulder, to the base of your neck, his touch sending tingles down your spine this time.
"I can never stay mad at you." He says huskily. "After all this time, I didn't think it'd be the same way, but it is."
"Elaborate."
"I—" He sighs a bit, positioning himself right above your head as he drops more oil down your left arm and abdomen. "I was just remembering the times we spent together, that's all."
"I miss it." You simply tell him. You know your eyes should be shut right now, but for some reason, you can't. He doesn't even tell you to, and you know it's his intention when he locks eyes with you during the duration of his warm up. Even as Yoongi turns to grab some of his stones, he still looks at you.
He keeps looking at you.
You swallow the lump in your throat when he takes a stone down your arm, slowly. His body drops a little closer to yours, his chin almost matching your level when he brings it back up and down with the right pressure.
"Does it feel okay?" He asks, close to a whisper, lips only inches away from yours.
"Mhm." You look at him.
"Harder? Softer? Let me know."
"It's perfect, Yoongi."
"Okay." He works your arms before moving the smaller stones to your abdomen. His finger gently brushes over the linen cloth covering your clothed pussy, his eyes flickering back up to you when he catches you slightly flinch. "You okay?"
"Sorry, was just not ready for that."
"I'll take it slow." He says, his hands using the stones as an extension as he kneads and kneads gently into your stomach and abdomen. You weren't sure why, but you were nervous around him. But in a way where you had hoped you were still enough for him. In a way where he'd look at you and still remember how he felt about you back in the day, even if you couldn't get that back. At least he'd remember.
His touch makes your palms sweaty and he feels that when he takes his tiny stones against your palm and places them in between your fingers.
"Nervous?"
"Not really." He smirks.
"You don't have to lie, I can tell Y/N." He gives you a hand massage. "Don't be nervous, okay? I told you I wanted you to relax this time around."
"Okay."
"Gonna move to your legs now." He uncovers your right leg, locking eyes with you once again when he lets the oil drip from your thigh to your inner thigh, even as he continues to move down your leg. His large hands start from your feet, up to your calf and knee before he's kneading your thigh and inner thigh. Your breathing hitches when you feel him getting closer and closer to your heat, only for him to pull away and grab his stones.
"Yoongi?" You panic and call for him even though you don't necessarily know what you're trying to say right now.
"Mhm?"
"T-that felt nice." You recover quickly.
"Yeah?" He focuses the stone in his palm against your inner thigh, watching as you close your eyes momentarily, body feeling heavy but relaxed in his grip. "Good."
And it's like that, it just continues to be a teasing game for the majority of the session. You weren't sure what Yoongi was hinting at during this moment, but god, did he make you feel good. He always knew how to make you feel good, one way or another. The session goes on for the full hour, Yoongi standing near the side of the table as you try to sit up and stable yourself post-mini nap while he worked on your back. He places his hand on your thigh as your cover your body with the linen cloth, brushing your hair back as you sit and get yourself together.
"Yo, are you okay? Was it that bad?" You chuckle.
"Shut up. It felt so nice. I wish I could just lay here forever, seriously." He smiles. "You're really good at what you do."
"Thanks." You look at him and he doesn't say much, but he also doesn't move away. "Guess I'll be seeing you again then?"
"Maybe." You stand, bodies almost pressed together with the way he doesn't move in his position. "I just hope I'm not a bother."
"You've never been a bother. Just wanted you to actually enjoy yourself." He says. The pause lingers for longer than you imagined, and you're not entirely sure what takes over you in that brief moment [although you kinda do], but you move yourself closer to him, lips crashing into his.
He doesn't move away.
He takes the kiss and runs with it, hands coming up to the small of your back to press you flush against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants against your covered core, and suddenly, you want more out of Yoongi. You're just not sure if you could have it the same way you did before—
"Do you know what you're doing right now?" He pulls back slightly, whispering against your lips.
"Think so."
"I don't know if we should be doing this again."
"Then why didn't you stop me earlier?"
"Shit is just going to get complicated."
"It doesn't have to be. What was all that during the session?"
"I was just doing my job, Y/N" He steps back a bit, teeth nibbling onto his bottom lip. "I—yeah." He sets his things aside. "We probably shouldn't." He scratches at his temple, flustered from the kiss because yeah, does he want you. He really does miss you, does miss having that relationship he had with you— keeping you close, having you to himself at one point.
He's not sure why or how these feelings came rushing back, but they did, especially after you laid that kiss on him moments ago. It's like the complete closure you two were looking for never came because it brought you two to this very moment where maybe, you didn't need to close that part off. Maybe, you both didn't need to shut each other out completely for the rest of your lives.
Maybe, it would be better this time around.
But no, Yoongi still gets a little afraid, still is doubtful. He doesn't know anything about your life right now besides you working your dream job. Hell, you could have a man for all he knows and that could all be fucked up and complicated now.
What was he doing?
What were you two doing?
That was always the question, and that's probably the biggest reason why he just had to step away in the first place.
"Um, I'll give you some space to get dressed." He says, clearing his throat. "You can make your next appointment at the front after, okay?"
"Wait, Yoongi—" You watch as he scurries on out, shutting the door behind him and leaving you to your own peace. "Fuck." You run your hand through your hair, dragging the stupid linen cloth along with you to the back divider to get changed. You still hoped you could catch him, so you hurriedly throw on your clothes and grab your bag, not realizing that your wallet had been poking out and fell onto the floor in the midst of your swift motions.
No Yoongi in sight.
You let out a deep sigh, tugging on your bag strap as you walk out and greet Yannie with that same old 'it felt amazing' smile you always give her before walking out of the establishment.
Fresh air. Fresh, fresh air. No tension, no suffocation.
"Rissa, fuck." You call her as soon as you step into your door, tossing off your shoes and throwing your keys aside. "I'm sorry, I know it's probably still stupid early there but I need you."
"What happened?" She sleepily asks, still trying to get some shut eye in before she has to fully wake up for her day.
"I kissed him."
"Oh fuck." She lets out with a laugh. "Ohhh fuck. Wow, yeah, I like waking up to this kinda news."
"No, bad!" You tell her in a whiny tone. "I shouldn't have, and now it's probably gonna be so awkward. I couldn't help it though, I felt like he was teasing me all session and being gentle with me for certain reasons."
"He's a fucking masseuse, Y/N." She laughs.
"He was teasing me!"
"Listen, he probably liked the kiss so much he had to run off and hide his boner." She shuffles in the back. "That boy has always had it for you. I ship."
"Rissa."
"What, you can't tell me that this is out of the ordinary. You two are always so fucking weird about your relationship, especially you. Just get together already!" She yells into her pillow. "You two obviously have always really liked each other and those feelings never went away. Why don't you finally do something about it? I mean, don't you think there's a reason why you two crossed paths again?"
"Ugh."
"Yeah, ugh. You're telling me." She chuckles. "Go for it this time. Please don't hold back and just go for it." You pause, digging through your bag to try and find your wallet. "Hello? All of a sudden you don't wanna say shit." She jokes.
"Wait, oh my god." You start to panic a bit when you realize your wallet is nowhere to be found. "What the fuck!"
"What's wrong?"
"My wallet? It's gone? I don't know if I dropped it or—"
"Did you have it on you when you got to the massage parlor?"
"Yeah, I did." You sigh and run your hand through your hair. "Shit."
"Welp, guess you're going back to see Yoongi." She giggles. "I better hear about him clapping your cheeks when you get back."
"You're too much." You roll your eyes and shake your head. "I gotta go before I lose my shit even more."
"Update me, text me, whatever. I hope you find it, boo. I'm sure it's just there."
"Thanks. I'll keep you posted." You grab your keys, sighing deeply as you slip back into your shoes and head out back to the parlor. It's not as busy as it was earlier, with only two people waiting in the waiting room for their sessions. Yannie is surprised to see you back, questioning whether or not something had gone wrong during your last session. You simply tell her no, and that you were just over to check if your wallet had fallen out in Yoongi's room. Luckily, he doesn't have anyone back there just yet, so she lets you head on back and straight to his room.
No Yoongi again, though.
You peek your head in at first, scanning the room to see if Yoongi may have just been hiding in the corners, but he wasn't there. You welcome yourself into the room anyway, figuring you were harmlessly looking for your wallet. You scan the side of the room thoroughly, checking the sides, crevices, making sure you weren't missing the item as you passed along. When you finally hit the back area, you catch a glimpse of your wallet right underneath the divider, giving you some relief.
"Oh, thank god." You mutter to yourself.
"What're you doing?" You jump, startled at Yoongi's voice as he stands at the doorway with a tangerine in his hand.
"I—uh, dropped my wallet. Didn't realize it until I got home." You raise your wallet and shyly show him.
"Oh." Is all he says.
"Sorry, I'll get out of your way now." You try to rush out but he blocks your path, holding his hand out.
"Wait, you don't have to rush out."
"Kinda want to after earlier." You directly tell him.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do in the moment." He looks at you, genuinely trying to apologize. "I mean— it happened so fast. I didn't know what to say or do." He stumbles over his own words.
"You shouldn't be the one apologizing."
"Look Y/N, I didn't mean all of that. I didn't mean to lead you on, or anything. It was kinda just.. a defense mechanism for me. It's been so long since we both had been close in that way and I'm afraid you'd pull the same shit."
"Things change, you know? Even though I didn't try before, doesn't mean I wouldn't try this time around." You try to brush past him, but you still aren't successful. "Yoongi, please just let me get home."
"I know things change." He says. "Can we— can we just do that whole thing over?"
"You'd want to?" You cock your head to the side, trying your best to read him.
"I know we both had our own faults in the past and I want to leave that there as much as possible. At the same time, I really missed you and it's been hitting me ever since the first time you walked into this establishment. I don't know what it is about you, Y/N. I don't know if I'll ever figure it out. But I want us to move past that and start fresh, whatever that means. I'd hate to let you slip away again." He looks at you, stares into your soul almost. You don't really know what to say except, you know this feeling all too well. You've felt this for Yoongi for so long, you've thought about him and your relationship with him for so long. He was the one you couldn't stop thinking about, the one who you always managed to ponder 'what if's' and 'maybe's' about.
You're also terrible with words, but you nod anyways. And you finally find the courage to tell him—
"I feel the same way." He gives you a tiny smile before placing his tiny tangerine down on the counter. He gently cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that manages to deepen quickly— so quickly that you find yourself being carried onto the table. Yoongi sits you on the end, hands roaming up your sides before giving it a good squeeze.
"I wasn't sure how to take it earlier, please don't take it personally." He whispers near your jaw as he begins to pepper it with light kisses. You tilt your head back slightly to give him more area to work with, eyes shut and rolling to the back of your head when you feel his tongue glide over your neck and below your ear.
"I'm sorry. I—" You whisper back, trying to explain why you had the sudden urge to kiss him at that moment, but he cuts you off.
"It's fine, you don't need to explain. We're here now, right? Can't necessarily turn back." His lips graze yours as his hand travels down your shirt, tugging on the bottom half to signal that he wants you out of it. "Don't necessarily want to, either."
"Fuck— don't you have someone coming in soon?"
"In about 30 minutes, yeah."
"Yoongi."
"Can make you cum before then, right?" He smirks, finally getting you out of your top.
"Is that on your secret menu?"
"No." He chuckles. "Promise." His hands start to roam over your breasts, giving them a good squeeze while he continues to kiss you passionately— working his tongue in your mouth, sucking on your tongue in between. He tugs on your bottoms, getting you to slip out of them with ease. He feels the wet spot pooling on those thin, black panties you have on and it instantly sends blood rushing to his dick—
The fact that you two still had this affect on each other, he couldn't help himself.
You continue to kiss him roughly, passionately, as you get him out of his own clothes, tossing all the pieces of fabric to various points in the room. He slips you out of your panties, instantly rubbing his thumb against your clit. You let out a quick, muffled moan against his lips, only for Yoongi to pull back and smirk at you.
"Like that?" You nod.
"Why'd you stop?"
"Thought I could make it a little more fun." You watch as he grabs his oil and his smaller stones. "If.. that's okay with you. These were the ones I used on you earlier."
"Okay." You say, close to a whisper, gently bringing your lips back onto his. Your hands snake up his neck to get a good grip on his orange strands, tugging on them lightly as he works his way down to your neck again. He pulls away slightly, locking eyes with you before he spreads your legs wider and lets some drops of oil fall down your abdomen and onto your pussy.
He sees your breathing hitch again, but this time, he takes the stone and presses it against your clit to start massaging the oil around.
"Yoongi, fuck." You breathe out as you sit back a bit further, head tilting in pleasure.
"Can already tell how wet you are for me." He bites onto his bottom lip as he continues to work the stone and oil against your clit, free hand slipping in two fingers to pump in and out of you. If it weren't for the soft music Yoongi had playing in the background, you were sure people passing by could hear how wet you were. Because to Yoongi, all he hears is you. The way your pussy sounds when he works his digits inside, the way you let out soft moans as you sit back and let him do his work.
"Need you inside." You let out breathily as you open your eyes again and watch Yoongi damn near pierce his bottom lip with how quick he's trying to work his magic and make you cum on his fingers.
"Wanna cum for me first?" He says near the surface of your neck, lips grazing below your ear before he takes your earlobe into his mouth and gently tugs back. He works the stone faster against your clit, the pressure enough to have you reaching the edge quicker than expected even if the stone was losing its heat.
"Fuck, yeah— like that—" You whine, working your hips against his motions. "Shit, I'm gonna cum—" In a matter of seconds, you feel your high, body twitching as you finally tip over the edge and call Yoongi's name. He slowly pumps his digits in and out, helping you work through your high until he slowly removes it from inside of you. He smirks, setting the stone and oil aside before grabbing at your jaw.
"Open." You do as told, allowing Yoongi to slip in his fingers just so you could have a taste of yourself. "That's my girl." He says.
"Wanna feel you, please." You beg, watching as Yoongi strokes his rock hard cock before bringing you back closer to the edge of the table and spreading your legs wide open for him.
"I got you, baby. You know I always do. Lay back for me and relax." He says, dropping some oil down the valley of your breasts, your stomach. He takes two stones into his palms, gliding it over your chest and stomach, multitasking to add the right pressure through his hands while he takes a hardened bud into his mouth and tongues it in circular motions.
"Oh my god—" You whine, feeling him move onto the next nipple to repeat the process, his tongue gliding effortlessly over your bud. When he finally feels like he's had enough teasing you and making you beg for more, he leans back, setting his shit aside before giving your clit a good rub. He spits on to your pussy, watching it drip down to meet his cock as he slowly penetrates your entrance. Your mouth falls open, a silent moan releasing. It's been years, but you could never forget how Yoongi always made you feel so good, so fucking full and complete.
"Fuck, missed this." He huffs as he bottoms out. He stays in his position for awhile, afraid to move and release too fast, even though he knows he's on a bit of a time crunch right now. He slowly begins to thrust in and out of you, finding his rhythm after a few strokes. He's careful to make sure he doesn't make too much noise with the table, careful to place his hand over your mouth when he starts to hear you moan loudly again as he picks up his pace.
But all in all, his end goal was to make you beg for more and fuck you into oblivion.
Which, he always manages to do. He manages to do it tonight. He's fucking you so good and so deep that you're screaming his name into his palm, tears spilling over and staining your cheeks. His hand has a tight grip onto your thigh, keeping you stationary as he rocks into you— in and out, in and out.
"Baby shit, you feel so good." He moans deeply, head tilting back in pleasure for a quick moment before he's focused on you and only you. "Gonna make me cum all over you. You want that?" You nod, whimpering a quick 'mhm' into his palm once again while he continues with the momentum he has going. You tap his wrist a few times, signaling that you're about to reach your high again tonight, and he picks up on a quick.
"Cumming—" You manage to mumble.
He sees the way you grip onto his wrist.
Feels the way you're clenching around his cock.
Watches the quick way your chest rises with every breath.
It's not long before he feels you tightening around him, eyes shut as you dig your nails onto his wrist and moan loudly into his hand.
"Fuck, gonna cum with you." He groans. The sight, the feeling, is enough for Yoongi reach his high, quickly pulling out to release his seed all over the surface of your pussy.
"Holy shit." You pant, laying there as you and Yoongi try to regulate your breathing. His hands run up your sides to help soothe you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips before coming back up to grab a towel near the table.
"You okay?"
"More than okay." He chuckles.
"Let me clean you up." He says, wetting the towel and cleaning you up before helping you up from the table.
"You have like 7 minutes before your next client." He shrugs.
"It's fine, I'll clean up quick." You slip back into your own clothes.
"The stones?" You look at him and point at the table.
"Ah, yeah. I'll sanitize those but I'll probably stash them away for you." You laugh.
"Wow, I get my own set of dedicated stones, huh?"
"Probably better that way, anyway. I have extra, and Yannie can always order more for me." You shake your head.
"Thanks, by the way." You raise your wallet. "Needed this."
"Figured." He fixes his shirt and tucks it into his pants before letting out a breath and walking back towards you. "So, am I gonna see you again?" He pulls you tightly by the waist, keeping you flush against him as you look him in the eyes and smile.
"Just might." He chuckles and nods before caressing your chin and placing a warm, soft peck against your lips.
"Let me know when you get home, alright?"
"Okay. Have a good rest of your shift." You giggle before walking out and leaving him to his peace. Getting home, all you could think about was the sudden turn of events and how you were going to tell Rissa about the shit that just happened.
She'd be fucking ecstatic.
She was.
Not even gonna lie.
You had to pull the phone from your ear a couple of times even though that girl claimed she was going to keep it a minimum since she was supposedly on a team call. And to be quite honest, you liked every bit of it even though it made you flustered at times. You liked it because you finally felt like you could do this right, could do him right. You liked it because it finally felt like things had fallen into place and that the closure you thought you needed didn't have to actually come—
Because now, you and Yoongi could finally move on and move past that grey area, together.
>> 1.5 MONTHS LATER
For days, you and Yoongi had continued to see each other at the parlor, both for hot stone reasons and other reasons, before he was finally seeing you at your place and vice versa. Following those weeks and the next month or so, you had started to see each other outside of work, spending a lot of time together and spending the night at each other's homes. Everything had grown quickly, but at the same time, it only felt natural being that you and Yoongi had known each other and had been in this space before. It almost feels like you two picked up right where you left off, even though the both of you considered this to be a fresh start.
It felt amazing, real, genuine.
Like everything had fallen right into your lap just how it should have. And hell yeah, you learned your lesson from the beginning. You weren't gonna mess this up again.
"Scoot." He smiles when he sees you laying down in his bed with nothing on. You set your phone on his nightstand, gripping the sheets closer to your body when you turn and face him. He slips himself in, immediately pulling you flush against his body before brushing the hair out of your face. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing." He lets out a small laugh, giving your side a light squeeze.
"Say it, baby."
"It's just kinda crazy, isn't it?"
"What?"
"This. Us?"
"It's crazy only if you make it crazy." You playfully punch him on the chest.
"Seriously." You pout and he gives in, he always gives in.
"A bit, but I wouldn't think too much of it. Guess this is how it was meant to happen."
"Never got that closure because we never needed the closure." You added.
"Are you happy, though?"
"Of course I am." He looks at you and presses a kiss against your forehead.
"I want you to let me know when you aren't, okay? The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. Doesn't matter if that means with me or not. I just want you to be honest."
"I know. But, I am." He nods.
"Okay." You lean in and kiss him on the lips just as he turns from shutting off his nightstand light.
"Sleeping already?" You mumble against his lips and he smirks.
"I mean, fuck. Yeah? Was hoping to at least get some sleep tonight." You giggle, gently grabbing at his jaw and pulling him in for another kiss.
"No fuuuun." You whine.
"What'd you have in mind then?"
"Oh, I don't know? Thought we could just stay up and talk." His breathing hitches when he feels your soft hand stroking his cock, hardening by the minute.
"S-stay up and talk, huh?" He lets out a breathy moan when he feels you pump him slowly, grabbing his tip and smearing his pre-cum all over your clit. "Aren't you tired, baby?"
"Nope. We don't have to go all the way, though." You say, slipping his cock in between your legs, enough for it to glide smoothly back and forth between your pussy lips. A low groan emits from his lips, hand gripping onto your ass to keep you close. He sucks onto your bottom lip before biting down and pulling back.
"Always make me feel so good." He whispers, feeling your wetness spread across his length. It's almost embarrassing how quick you can make him cum just by doing this but god, it felt heaven sent. Just being with you, by you, all around you, felt heaven sent.
"I could at least do my part somehow, right?" You giggle, nipping at his chiseled jawline while rocking along his length, picking up your pace at the same time. He feels your tongue swipe against the surface across his throat, making Yoongi let out a moan that has him stressing—
"B-baby, gonna make me cum—fuck—" His pants getting heavier, cock twitching underneath you. You glide slowly, feeling his tip brush up against your clit before sliding back down before picking up your pace again.
"Gonna cum with you." You whisper, feeling yourself tipping over the edge with every move you make at this point. When Yoongi finally lets himself go, it's mid-kiss and he's having to grip your waist tightly as he releases white ribbons messily all over your legs and in between. You tremble in his grip, allowing yourself to fully let go as well while he holds you close.
"That felt so good, princess." He presses a kiss against your temple, holding you close to him as you come down from your own high. He grabs a few napkins from the nightstand to clean you both up nicely before he's tossing it into the trash can and shutting his eyes when his body crashes back onto the mattress.
"Yeah it did." You throw your leg over him as you lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat slowing down. "Are you really gonna sleep?"
"Baby." He laughs. "Yes?! As much as I love you, you fucking wear me out. Sheesh." You chuckle.
"Fine."
"Goodnight. Expect me to wake you up bright and early though."
"Mhm." You tease as he kisses the top of your head. As promised, Yoongi does wake you up very bright and early for another round. And you loved these moments with him, you loved it even more now because he was yours and you were his. No more of that bullshit, that fuckbuddy-no-strings-attached-but-kinda-strings-attached grey area you both had going on for years.
It just felt right.
When the both of you split ways in the morning for work, you figured you'd visit him during his lunch just to spend more time with him [as if you didn't already]. Rissa calls you while you drive over to the parlor just as she makes her way to the airport as her work trip finally comes to an end.
Not only was Yoongi yours, but your bestfriend was finally coming home.
Yeah, shit felt right.
"You better tell him I'm coming over as soon as I reach the airport so I can tease the hell out of both of you."
"Yeah, yeah."
"I'm so happy. Fucking finally. I get to come home. I get to spend time with my bestfriend. I get to see her happy. Maybe I'll finally find somebody to mess with at Blissful Hands, too."
"Please." You laugh. "Don't even start."
"Can't promise." She squeals. "I'm excited. I'll text you as soon as I'm on my way over, alright?"
"Oh, you were serious?"
"Yeah I fucking was, you better make room for me. Yoongi can wait." You nod.
"Alright, alright. Speaking of him, I just got here. Have a safe flight, okay? I love you."
"I love you too!" You end the call and tuck your phone into your purse before heading into the establishment.
"Goodmorning Miss Y/N." Yannie smiles at you.
"Hey!"
"He's on his lunch in the back."
"Cool, thanks." You say, heading back towards Yoongi's room. On the way over, you see his colleagues getting ready for their own clients. One smiles at you [Taehyung or was it Namjoon?] while the other mumbles to him—
"Great, gonna have to hear him fuck her brains out again." Which you catch on the way to Yoongi's, making you giggle to yourself before you greet your man and shut the door behind you.
