flutter | yg
↳ NOTES flutter /ˈflʌtə/ noun, a state or sensation of tremulous excitement, informal•british a small bet.
↳ GENRE fluff, domestic af
↳ WORDS 5.1k
↳ SUMMARY –Future is scary. The possibilities and vast chances to take. A recent letter pivots your family to an emotional frenzy and with the impending stress coming up, your husband does all he can to be supportive and push you through. And it wasn’t the only thing he pushed in you. But this time, he’s up for the transition as well, kind of?
↳ WARNING horrible fluffy shit I hadn’t been able to write for awhile, yoongi plays piano (yes, that’s a warning), skinship (pfft, wtf is wrong with me), lots of touching domestic thingy, excessive consumption of coffee, tub scenes (smacks lips), sweaty yoongi (are you kidding me, it deserves its own warning fk you)
↳ NAMJOONCHRONICLES’ HONORARY TAG LIST @kai-tashi @joon94net @yourlocalalien @snugglemejeon @septemberalien @yoongiseesaw
↳ SPECIAL THANKS TO @fangirlaholicxx my sunshine~ and a gift to @majestikblue
↳ SONG joe hisaishi’s ‘merry go round of life’
As the rain begins to drizzle, you heard a piano being played so beautifully, it stirred you awake with a smile on your face. Sweeping your legs off the mattress, no bed frames, you pushed the door open and tattled down the hallway. Slowly, it reveals your husband's gorgeous shoulder frame and his fingers dancing on the keys, his head swaying to the sound. You smiled wider now that you recognize the tune from long time ago. And how it fits the feeling of being and falling in love with him. The fact that he wanted to play this particular song gave your heart the familiar flutter of meeting him for the first time, underneath that bridge by the blossoming tree. How angelic he looked, how his every move made you shudder, just by standing there. And not even a word was exchanged yet.
In small, calculated steps you peeped by the corner of his eyes as he plays, not wanting to startle him. A small smile is formed on the prettiest lips you've ever seen. Your eyes were cast on the view of his wedding band, there gliding on the keys. He scooted over for you to take the seat and you leaned your head on his shoulder. The notes are coming to an end. Around you are opened large boxes, stacks of old newspapers, tapes and ropes. The walls are empty and the carpets are gone. All the things that used to be there, no longer. He links his head atop of yours. Long after the last note is played, and sustained, only the loudest silence remains. But a breathtaking silence. The kind that leaves you enveloped in a dreamy state, and in a trance as the notes linger in the back of your mind. He lifts his fingers off the keys and slid them around your shoulders.
"Thought that it would be nice to play the song that made you recognize me on our last day here," he whispered against your hair and pressing his lips right after.
"It's not our last day, it's the piano's last day here...we need to head back to return the house keys later," you thwarted, lifting your chin up to kiss him properly on the lips. Yoongi's lips twitch into a smile, and his hand rode down your spine, caressing you warmly.
Staring at the empty walls, nails and photo frames brought down to lean against the wall suddenly make you feel burdened with emotions you had been suppressing all this while. But still, it is not enough to let you shed tears.
A plate of biscuits and black coffee, set on the floor, for a simple breakfast to start the day. In the chaotic week, the twins are sent to Yoongi's village where his mom could take care of them. So they would video-call in the morning to see how things are. The younger of the two was really excited to seeing and living in a new space. Although the same could not be said for the first born who is, as Yoongi would say, rather rigid like you are. This change was long over-due and it takes time for you to actually take the fact in. You had grown fond of the place and removing everything that you had taken time to select and put up was a sore spot. Thankfully, Yoongi's high adaptability helped you get settled in real quick.
"The boys wanted to talk to you," you passed the phone to him as he hurried to shove the whole biscuit into his mouth and chewed. He gulps, sitting on the floor with one knee propped up. He clawed the air, waiting for the coffee you were drinking from. The boys are already asking the questions, such as, 'When are you coming', 'What is taking so long' and several other unrelated things. All the mugs are boxed away and already in the new apartment so you had to share. When he finally gets his fix, Yoongi frowned at the screen where the boys were cackling to see their father in such incomprehensible state.
"Alright, Min Gyeonghan and Min Gyeongnam. What's good guys?" Yoongi scrunched his face but kept his eyes glued on the screen, swallowing the dry cookies. The sight made you smile in content.
The boys said that they found a wild squirrel a few days ago, and helped grandmother tie up haystacks, which was a nice transition considering the two had been raised largely in cities. You welcomed the transformation but Yoongi was like, "What about piano? Have you been practicing? Go fishing next time...when I'm around."
At seven years old, Han in particular, showed incredible piano skill with accurate emotional compensation and was fond of playing by ear. However, Nam was excellent in sight reading musical scores while quite not able to implore the same gift into his playing. So as a result, Nam usually gets more practicing hours than Han does. This trip back to the village was something Nam really enjoys. Something he can put his hands on and do well. He recently helped build a bird house for a sparrow. It seems that the two boys are taking all of the talented Min genes.
"So, mom and I are going to finish packing up today, and we're going to visit the new house later, would you like us to call you then? So you could see?" Yoongi asked and the boys nodded enthusiastically.
The call ended in gummy smiles from both sides.
You pour another mug of black coffee before Yoongi stops you midway. "That's enough coffee for you, today, if you drink too much, you won't be able to sleep," Yoongi takes the mug away and chugs it down without pausing in between. You eyed at the good coffee you just made sadly, settling in Yoongi's stomach instead of yours. With the breakfast finished and the children updated, Yoongi continued packing, placing the vase, buffered with crumpled newspapers and when it's full, you placed a fragile tape on them. You threw the marker pen at Yoongi, he caught it in one hand and scribbled, 'Vases & Decor'. The task didn't end there, Yoongi needed to disassemble the book rack in the study room. So he is now seated on the floor, unscrewing the bolts and you collect all the screws, placing it in a transparent small zipper bag labeled as 'book rack #1'. The curtains were the last thing you took off because you didn't want your windows to be spied on while you were still there. Yoongi is on top of the ladder, taking the curtain holder off while you wait underneath to fetch the fabric.
"There's so much dust on it," you commented.
"That's why I told you to get the vacuum with a longer nozzle but you insisted to have the cordless one, not realizing your hand is too short for it to reach up here," Yoongi complained. "I didn't think it through," you scratched your head as he climbed down. "We need a shower," he smirked and clicked his tongue.
"W-we? What do you mean we..."
He meant we.
Folded card boards. Stacked pile of books and bags of trash. Half-wrapped vase and nail holes in the wall where picture frames used to hang. Left abandoned.
Opened bathroom door. Two soaked bodies in the tub. You leaned your head back on Yoongi's chest, skin to skin, basking in the filled tub, enjoying the silence. Yoongi had his eyes shut, arms resting along the brims.
"It's been awhile since we done this, isn't it?" "Quite awhile. I think ever since the boys came."
You let out a relieved sigh. What a relief to have his mother taking care of them until you and Yoongi successfully packed your belongings to move to the new neighborhood. What a relief it is to have a hand to hold when things as scary as this happens. What a relief it is to have Yoongi.
The world doesn't seem so lonely anymore. But as the time dragged on, you begin to wonder if it was a good decision knowing how many changes will take place. Sure Yoongi had been on board with anything you'd propose after a careful thought, and you know he's not the kind to agree on things that are bleak, knowing that the twins will be brought along on the ride, but standing at a cross road between two important paths that doesn't allow you to remain as you were, is unspeakably horrifying. With that thought, your fragile strength wavered like a weathered flag by the sea.
"What if I wasn't as good as I thought I was," you blinked to the view of Yoongi's knee next to yours. Waters lapping as you dunk your hand into the water, linking together. He removes his arm from the brims and hugged your waist, pressing his lips on your shoulder. Your hands flew to the back of his hair, caressing them, before sliding them down the side of his cheek, guiding his lips on yours for a kiss. His wandering eyes flutters close against your cheek, the sound of his breathing in your ear. And what his lips was doing sending you to a complete trance. Just like he did with the piano. Like what he did with the piano.
"What if things turn out to become worser than it is, what will I do then?" you chuckled with watery eyes. Yoongi shook his head and buried his face into your nape instead of responding. "What kind of mother enrolls herself for a degree at this age," you continued. Yoongi didn't join you. He just held you closer and told you the most reassuring words ever, "We'll be okay. You, and the boys, we can do literally anything and everything."
"Are you going to be okay?" "I will be, if you are."
When the offer letter arrived in the mail, you were a concoction of feelings. Delighted, fearful, unsure and uncertain. A combination that was self-destructive on its own. Although it had always been your dream to further your studies, you're not 20 and single anymore. You were older, with financial commitments, an intuitive husband and two gorgeous sons. Pinned with self-induced guilt, you threw the letter, along with its envelope into the bin of your study room. That Yoongi found. A huge argument followed. Cold war was initiated, and sturdiness stringed along sending the boys in distress because they could sense what was happening but could not do anything. Yoongi wanted you to further your studies, because it was your dream. But you wanted to continue this life you've been living, as a mother, as a wife, as someone who has a regular job. To help with the financial demands and expenses. To aid Yoongi.
And to study meant, you'll be adding new debt. You'll be leaving Yoongi with the boys. You'll have to move closer to the university and that means Yoongi had to leave his music academy he pioneered. It meant he has to give up teaching a large class with older kids who were serious about music and trade that with a personal one-to-one class sessions at home with students he could find from the nearby neighborhood. That itself will cause a strain in the financial stance. Not to mention, a pinch in the money bag, as the new neighborhood are full of the musically talented, upper middle class families. The change in the community will expose the boys with unfamiliar upbringings and you hoped that you had given them enough strength, should that day happen. Yoongi wasn't afraid of all these minor things. He was not afraid of changes. As long as we live the way we have lived so far, there will be no bumps in the road we cannot conquer. His core strength was something you admired for so long.
After the shower, he asked if you would be up for making one last memory in this place, on this thin mattress, barely dressed. You scoffed in reply while he glued his lips on your neck, pulling you down with him.
The piano is transported into the moving truck, and the last box was in Yoongi's arm. You did the honor of locking up the apartment carefully. Two boxes were in the backseat of your car since it was fragile. With a mechanical click of the door, you cast a prayer on its view, "May everything goes well from this moment onward." To our new beginnings.
Yoongi is now seated in the driver's seat. But as he waits for you, he reaches for his Canon camera, looked through the view, and snapped a picture of you as you stood there, holding the knob, and looking up at the door you've opened and closed a thousand times, feeling a little nostalgic. He took the shot without telling you and a faint smile appeared on his lips. His sweater paws covering his knuckles makes him look softer than usual. You caught him already looking at you, leaning his chin on his hand that rests on top of the car roof.
"What..." you shyly stepped down the stairs and to the red car. "Nothing, you're just glowing," he blinked, starry-eyed.
You pressed your lips together and rolled your eyes at him, "Alright Romeo, drive, please."
He chuckles lightly and climbed into the car, grabbing the wheels and slammed the car door shut. The engine whirls alive and tires begin rotating, embarking a new journey, a new clean slate, blank canvas that's waiting ahead.
Upon arriving to the new location, located five hours away from your old apartment, Yoongi stops at the safeguard house to present the key card that allowed him to enter. After some simple instructions, he was taught to simply tap the key and the laser gates dissolve. He was already so astonished. You told him that they have two parking spots for each residence, so that was pretty neat. Easier to have the guests around. The apartment has spacious elevator and the flooring was marble.
"It definitely looks painful to keep," he mumbled. "Yeah," you sighed, staring at right while he stares at the left.
"Sir, where can we put the piano?" the man asked from behind you. "Right by the window there, please, thank you," he answered quickly, then he whispered in your ear, "We might need a bigger piano to make the space look fuller. White baby grand?"
White baby grand sounds perfect to be honest. At the mention of refurnishing, your heart swells at the thought of new, more up-to-date furniture and the wider choices you have but dissipates at the possible expenses that will send you to your early grave earlier. As if he heard your thoughts, Yoongi shot, "I've got savings, so don't you worry about that." One by one, boxes were being brought in, kitchen appliances one of the first to be unpacked because you two needed to eat. The coffee machines, the mugs and plates, the dish racks, the wine glasses, oven mittens and rugs. And then the mattresses. While you hammer the nails in to the wall, Yoongi used his screw fasteners to assemble the bed frames. Sweats beaded on his forehead, his drenched white shirt stuck on his skin as he moves from one post to another. He wipes the trickles down his chin with the back of his hand, drilling his eyes to one of the post and then the other.
"Sweetie?" He called for you. "Yeah?" "Can you come here for a bit?"
You didn't question more and leave your hammer behind to attend to your husband, now sweatier than you remembered. You placed yourself next to him and looked at the bed post like he did. Instantly, you picked up on what he thought.
"You're right, it should be on the other side, or we won't have space to walk," you commented. With that simple intervention, Yoongi had you lifting the bed post along with him. He kept asking if it was too heavy and you can stop if you want to, but you'll have to wait until his friend comes over. You said there's no reason to do that, you were impatient as is, and you can't wait to have the whole house come to full view. With the bed frames positioned in a new angle, Yoongi can continue his work easier. All that's left is to put the wooden slats on top and then mattress comes above it, then he can move to the twins room next. He'll leave you to choose what bed sheets you want. He checks how strong the frames are holding up and when he is satisfied, he placed the wooden slats and put the mattress over it. He went out the hallway to check up on you. And while you were nailing, he asked, "What should we have for lun--" he pauses and scowls at the wall clock, "I mean dinner."
But his sudden question caught you off guard and the nail slip from your index finger and thumb, just as the hammer comes. The nail graze you and a steady spot of blood consistently form on its opening. Yoongi took your thumb into his mouth while you hiss in pain. You hit his butt as he suckles on, his hip flinches comically. Eyes never leaving you. He grabbed the tissue from the side and have you pressing on the small wound. You can't even stay mad at him. A moment later, he was on his phone calling a diner for four rice servings, three side dishes and one main dish. You were busy checking if the nails he nailed in for you were strong enough to hold a picture frame. With your wounded hand, messily self-made bandage, you begin vacuuming the dust on the crevices , being a neat freak that you are. Yoongi's conversation was interrupted by the water boiler bubbling done and then the doorbell. Both of you looked at the door and then at each other. You were already marching forward to the doorway but Yoongi grabbed your wrist in a lazy hold as he ends the phone call with the diner.
When the door is opened, it reveals a slightly short stature man with huge grins. He introduces himself with a blinding smile, and two containers wrapped in a cloth.
"My wife and I heard that you guys just moved in so, here's a little welcoming gift from the both of us. My name is Park Jimin," he bit his smile, and gave a polite bow, "I live down the hall there," he pointed with his finger and leaning forward like an oversize child. It's hard to even picture him as someone's husband. But the wedding band is clearly worn, in addition with some other chrome rings, suggesting to Yoongi that Jimin, might be a quite fashionable man.
"Min Yoongi," he smiled back and placed his hand on the small of your back, "My wife."
"It's just the two of you?" Jimin asked out of curiosity, and being quite secretive with your personal details, you were taken aback by Yoongi's unprecedented honesty when he mentions that you have two twin boys. But appreciated when he didn't mention their names. Jimin's lips shaped in an 'O' and he nods at the understanding that the rumors he heard was wrong.
"What about you, Park Jimin? Do you have children?" You diverted the attention to him. And he gladly complied. The ones that asks questions are the ones in power. "I have a baby daughter, she's four months old," he beamed, "But she's not here right now, she has chicken pox so my mother is taking care of her at the village since we both work."
Jimin peeks over Yoongi's shoulder and saw a piano standing by the window.
"You guys play piano?"
Okay, he's getting nosy. Yoongi blinks rapidly, "Yes we do. We'd really like you to come in but the house hasn't been properly set up yet so it's unfortunate..."
"Oh no, it's okay. I've always wanted to resume my piano lessons but having children doesn't make that possible..." Jimin steps back, understanding that he had crossed some lines. Yoongi reciprocate with a peace offering, "I'm not properly settled yet, but maybe I could mention that I own a music academy back in Daegu, so I can offer you a lesson. You live down the hall right?" Yoongi reconfirms.
"Yes, yes! That would be great, you're a piano teacher! That's awesome..." "He is a composer too," you added. "Ah, she's exaggerating," Yoongi chuckles and send Jimin off to his way.
The food arrives just in time. With Jimin's generous wife providing kimchi and beansprout stew with tofu, your dinner was rather lavish.
The first scoop exudes a loud contented sigh. Yoongi lands his hand on your thigh, munching soundlessly. Scanning the room with your eyes, you made a mental note to mop the floors later to finish things up. The twins room need proper tending to, since the boys are pretty individualistic in their own taste so before Yoongi assembles the beds, you made a mental note to ask the boys what color they wanted on their walls and which sides they want.
The two, although physically alike, Han being the first born is very meek and shy, studious and textbook smart. So his colors are yellow pastels with pastel blue drawn moon and stars, you predicted. He has his own book rack that he aspires to fill up soon. He is not much of an outside person, so that's why you were surprised that he enjoyed being out and about in the village Yoongi's mom lived in.
Nam on the other hand, is quite a handful. The little rascal is the one adopting squirrels and taking in stray cats. The only time he is calm is when he is playing the piano. Nam is a violent sleeper and frequently wet his bed when he was younger. He doesn't do it anymore, but the memory stays vivid in your mind because Yoongi was sniffing around like a dog, because he swore he smelled something odd. And when it struck him, he clenched his eyes shut in silent pain, pinching the bridge of his nose. Nam probably preferred something in darker brown tone or dark blue so he could draw stars and planet on them. Very contrasting, isn't it? But they both liked skies.
There's another demanding decision to be made. Yoongi took a seat on the piano seat, revealed the keys and glide his fingers airily over the pretty black and white notes before turning to you in big wondering eyes. You stood there, mug between your palms, leaning your head against the wall.
"What should I play?" "I don't know, how are you feeling?"
For then, he drops his eyes to the keys, muttering if he could remember the notes correctly. And then. And then he begins A Thousand Years. Sending you fleeting away in the dreamy composition, knees buckling, as your eyes begins to water to the song you got married with. It was like your wedding once again. Your heart clenches and blooms at the same time. The emotions flooding with every notes played so expertly, dancing on his nimble fingers. His head lulls along with the music, clenching shut were his eyes. You could picture the montages of the yesteryear that passed, the hardships, the uncertainty, the leap of faith you took and opening your heart to him, and how it was the bravest and the scariest thing you've ever done. However, every big decision felt like a mistake in the beginning.
With two kids, and a happy home; there's nothing more you could ask for. Everything you needed, needing and will need, is right here.
Devotion that he portrays so effortlessly, made you want to match to his standards. It was something you had never seen before. Yoongi is more action than a word man. He doesn't say 'I love you' as frequently as you'd like him to, but it shows in everything he does. From how he wakes the boys up with a kiss good morning, passing you your morning coffee and getting the meals ready when it's his turn to cook, to the way he invites you to a sudden dance by the parking lot on your bad days, grabbing the boys by the waist when they misbehave, or how he cries at each of their piano recitals knowing he's their teacher, and how he takes every meltdown so swiftly in the way only Yoongi does well. You are always at awe of his dedication, and how he seems to know everything he needs to know. He doesn't run away from commitment although it took awhile for him to convince himself to marry. Yoongi is always so put-together, always understanding the situation beyond the surfaces and the outward view.
The tears welling up the brims, impending to fall. Until it finally surrenders from its own weight, trailing down steadily on one side as the song comes to an end. Yoongi looks up with his own eyes glittering. He reached out for your hand and brought you to the wide glass doors, overlooking the view the balcony had. He positioned you in front of him, and you pressed your back to his chest. And he sways his body side to side with you, enjoying the sapphire blue star studded transitioning sky, and one by one, the neighboring residences flickering their lights on. He nuzzled his face in your hair, hugging your waist so tight as if you could disappear into thin air if he held any loose.
"Would you look at that view," he whispers softly in your ear. The images shifts to the reflection of you and him on that glass door, faintly there, and, "There's stars inside of us."
He then brought his arm up around your shoulders, and hums a melody. He shut his eyes, feeling contented with just your presence. And then your index finger, floats over his forearm in a trance.
"The house feels empty without them," you confessed. "I know right," he shot, "Let's hurry up, and finish setting everything so we can have the boys here." "I can't believe I'm saying this but I miss having a fight with them."
With another shared shower, in a somewhat larger tub, the sheets are clean and ready for use, waiting just outside. Yoongi and you climbed on the bed at the same time.
"I can't wait for all of us to live here, I think the boys will really like it... it has playground and the tub is huge, their room is bigger than the last one, they will be so excited and I can't wait for those little faces lit up..." you cheerfully did the shoulder dance until Yoongi begins to snore. And not even the usual kind of snore. More like the surprise attack snore that doesn't give you any warning. Sudden silence and then a hitched breathing in. Your smile dissipates immediately and you frowned at your husband, jaws hanging open, with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners which he sloppily licked over and you scooted closer to his face, eyes falling to the view of his nose and lashes, where you whispered, "You look ugly when you sleep..."
Pause, and pressing your lips on his cheek bones, "But I still love you."
He turns to the side away from you and hogs the blanket, mumbling, "You look ugly too."
Huh. Is that so.
Yoongi's first morning in the new neighborhood includes brewing coffee for the missus and then a stroll down the park to the nearest convenient store to buy some bread and jams for breakfast. Maybe fine sliced beef and eating more of that expensive beef since the boys aren't here. And as he made his way to the cashier, a small ruckus was heard from the entrance where a men was holding two toddlers in each hand while having another one in the baby sling back. He is very attractive for a father of three, to which Yoongi flinches at the thought of possibly falling for a guy.
"Alright, Tata," he spoke and the gorgeous baritone sends Yoongi's arm to sudden chill, "Where did you find that key?" The smart little one points at the apple in the freezer. "We're not having apples until you tell me, where you got that key... Come on sweetie, daddy's gotta go pee, we don't have time for this," he sobs cutely, stomping his feet. Yoongi thanks the cashier and took his bagged groceries, passing the handsome father, idly.
"Taehyung, you dummy, that's Namjoon's key. Give me back my daughter, Lily get back here," this one is also a good looking father, barging through the door, almost hitting Yoongi in the process. "I know I told you I'm going to lend you my game console, that doesn't mean you can kidnap my Lily..." this taller one pestered.
"No! I like Uncle Taetae!" the one who is about seven, throttled back to his dad, Yoongi assumed. "Why?!" "The key is Namjoon's? But Seokjin-hyung, why is it here?" "Because Koya dropped it, you coconut head! You need to give it back to him..." "But he changed his door lock about two weeks ago..." "It doesn't matter?" Seokjin felt how ridiculous the conversation is, "I have to be home, my in-laws are coming..."
What an interesting neighborhood. Good thing is Yoongi don't have toddlers anymore to be hanging out with those losers. Until he receives a phone call from you, asking for a morning sickness pill safe for pregnant women on his way up.
"I think we'll have another one, Yoongs."
That's the thing about families you know. One thing leads to another, and then it piles on. Unexpected, uncertainties, the so-called picturesque view of a blank canvas can sometime be really scary even for Yoongi. So if you're pregnant, and lecture begins in a month, the boys will be back home, Yoongi will be torn limb-by-limb until the baby is delivered. And probably not even then. His fingers run chill, the hair behind his neck stood up. All those sleepless nights, the murky stained shirt, vomits and poops are coming back to haunt him.
His view flew to the bickering fathers now calming their two toddlers, crying for god knows what reason. Are you ready for the chaos that's about to unfold? Will Yoongi be ready to be a house husband and join those very idiots he called losers?
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COPYRIGHT © 2019 NAMJOONCHRONICLES do not repost, who do you think is going to be revealed as the house husband for the next fic of this lovely neighborhood? share what you love, tell me what you liked in this one