#yoonseokfic

[1rmono]

yoonseok #10 "come over here and make me"

“Please?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Yoongi, for goodness sake, you look adorable no matter what you wear, can you please just put on the wig and come out?”

Hoseok knows this isn’t enough to convince a pouting Yoongi who is sitting cross legged on the bedroom floor, full length pink dress haphazardly draped over his delicate frame, bright red wig cast aside so that it looked like a sad cat that refused to move.

“Nope,” Yoongi says adamantly, eyes fixed on Hoseok standing at the entrance of the bedroom door in stubborn resilience. Hoseok sighs, leaning against the door frame.

“Baby, it’s Halloween,” Hoseok says soothingly, “we’re supposed to dress up.”

“We’re not obligated to conform to societies expectations of our outfit choices for one randomly assigned night of the year,” Yoongi says and Hoseok crosses his arms and grins. Yoongi loves using big words to get his way out of doing things he didn’t like. Not that it ever worked on Hoseok, though.

“Cmon babe, how are we supposed to give the neighborhood kids candy if we don’t dress up as the wholesome gay couple next door?”

Yoongi considers this for a moment before jutting his lip out at Hoseok and Hoseok thinks it’s cute, how Yoongi acts like he’s the toughest five feet nothing to walk the block to the whole world, but with Hoseok, Yoongi is suddenly a six year old, needy, whining and always wanting more attention.

“Let’s trade costumes then,” Yoongi suggests for the millionth time and Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yoongi, we’ve been over this. We decided I’d be Spiderman and you’d be Mary-Jane four weeks ago. My costume isn’t even going to fit you, babe.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Yoongi grumbles and Hoseok laughs.

“Dude, you wanted to be Mary-Jane last month. You asked for the red wig and everything.”

“What kind of person calls his husband ‘dude’?”

“What kind of husband goes back on his word?”

“The kind that was very tipsy and would have agreed to shoving a whole pineapple up my ass to get you to fuck me that night,” Yoongi snaps back without a trace of embarrassment.

“God, Yoongi, it’s just a costume. I’m literally wearing a latex skintight thing that makes me look like I crawled out of Satan’s asshole. It’s itchy and it’s embarrassing but I’m doing it.”

“There’s a difference,” Yoongi yells and Hoseok cocks an eyebrow. “You look sexy enough to be edible in that costume and I look like I just ran out of a rancid jungle.”

“Yoongi, I told you, you look perf-“

`”Nope.”

“Please?” Hoseok asks, running his hands through his hair in near-defeat, “please be my fictional girlfriend? For one night?”

“Come over here and make me.”

Hoseok can tell Yoongi knows what he’s just asked for one second after it hits Hoseok and there’s a quick grin on Yoongi lips he isn’t quick enough to press down as Hoseok advances towards him in quick, long steps so that he’s suddenly two centimeters away from Yoongi expectant face.

“If you put on the costume, I’ll make sure the neighbors know how grateful you’re gonna be you did tonight,” Hoseok says in a low voice and there’s a satisfying visible shiver down Yoongi’s spine.

“See me changed in five,” Yoongi says after clearing his throat in a monotone voice. Hoseok smirks and pecks Yoongi’s lips.

“Make it three.”

Yoongi doesn’t argue.

otp drabble challenge

[1rmono]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, 27 yoonseok pls

“We’re going downtown.”

“There’s a strip club downtown.”

“Min Yoongi, I am going to kill you.”

There are only a few things that can take away Yoongi’s attention from his Saturday afternoon ritual of playing Call of Duty: Black Ops III. Being in college meant Yoongi barely saw the inside of his room most days hurrying to classes and grinding at the library which left him with wistful stares in the direction of his console in between Calculus study sessions. And with Taehyung out probably fucking Jungkook, this was as good a time as any other to catch up on some video games.

Well, except when Hoseok says that.

Yoongi hits pause an turns around.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t you dare pull that innocent shit on me, hyung, I fucking swear-” and now Hoseok is so close that their faces are three inches away and Yoongi has no option but to look directly into Hoseok’s eyes.

The fact that he likes Hoseok a whole damn lot does not help fight down the intense blush that creeps up on his cheeks at his proximity. Luckily, Hoseok doesn’t notice.

“What the fuck is this?” Hoseok demands, thrusting his phone at Yoongi. Yoongi blinks, squinting at Hoseok’s cracked screen (there wasn’t a single time in the history of Jung Hoseok owning a new cellphone that he hadn’t managed to tragically damage it this way within the first week of having one so that Hoseok’s standards have lowered considerably and “as long as it works, hyung” is a sufficient philosophy for now).

“It’s my Twitter,” Yoongi says, shrugging and Hoseok splutters, half in exasperation and half in disbelief.

“‘Min Yoongi retweeted Namjoon’s tweet “i feel like yoongi hyung’s ideal type is choi sooyoung” and said “listen brat, i only fuck guys”’?”

“And?” Yoongi shrugs. It’s hard for Yoongi to concentrate on anything because Hoseok is wearing a tank top and god, it’s taking every ounce of Yoongi’s concentration to look nonchalant and not blatantly stare at Hoseok’s pretty arms.

Hoseok on the other hand, looks like he might explode in frustration.

“And,” he says, nearly screaming, “you’re gay?”

“So what?”

“You’re telling me that we’ve known each other for two years and you’ve been gay this whole time.”

“Yup.”

“God,” Hoseok says, slapping his forehead, “do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to stop myself from hitting on you?”

If Yoongi thinks he was blushing before, it’s nothing compared to what he’s doing now and he’s red that he has to look away and turn back to his game.

“That’s what you’ve been bringing the ceiling down for this whole time?” Yoongi mumbles, unpausing the game.

“Don’t you fucking dare make me look like the one that’s crazy, hyung I-”

“You free at 8?” Yoongi interrupts. There is a short silence and then a huff of affirmation.

“Great, we’re going downtown.”

“There’s a strip club downtown.”

“And also an Italian place, asshole,” Yoongi smirks before looking back at Hoseok.

“I’ll pick you up 7:30. Sound good?”

This time it’s Hoseok’s turn to blush and there’s a small smile he’s fighting down at the edge of his lips before nodding ever so slightly and storming out and slamming the door shut.

Yoongi thinks it’s cute how Hoseok forgets that the walls are thin because he can hear Hoseok squealing down the entire hall.

[1rmono]

We Miss Playing Pretend (YoonSeok)

☛ Hoseok knows exactly what kind of motivation Yoongi needs at 4 AM.

✘  1k words, yoonseok idolverse!AU

“It’s raining again.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything but Hoseok knows Yoongi hears him from the way his lips curl into a thin line and his feet twitch ever so slightly under the shabby covers on the studio’s couch.

“C’mon, lets get back to work,” Hoseok nudges Yoongi up. The elder doesn’t protest; god knows they’re used to this. They’re used to the digital clock on the studio wall reminding them that it’s 3:19 AM, used to giving themselves small twenty minute naps between drained black coffees and hopeless clawing at any semblance of an REM cycle.

“Chocolate?” Hoseok offers and Yoongi shakes his head ever so slightly, already immersed in the track they’ve been working on for the past thirteen hours.

“When will Namjoon get his ass down here and help out,” Yoongi growls, glaring at the laptop screen, headphones hanging off his neck.

“You know he’s working on a separate track right now, hyung,” Hoseok sighs. It’s the kind of hour when even Hoseok can’t pretend to put on a fake show of weak smiles and transient happiness exuding like sunshine from every inch of him because god, he is so tired.

(It’s not like Yoongi can’t tell when Hoseok fakes it anyway.)

“How about we leave this part out for now?” Hoseok taps at the screen, leaning over Yoongi’s shoulder and resting his head at the crook of Yoongi’s neck. He feels Yoongi heat up ever so slightly but his eyes don’t waver from the screen.

“I don’t know, won’t that ruin the bridge? It doesn’t flow well from Jungkook’s verse as it is,” Yoongi says, biting down on his lip in frustration.

“We can always make multiple versions and see what works out best,” Hoseok suggests but his brain is fuzzy and he’s trying to get Yoongi flustered for no good reason other than the fact that hoseok is aching to be loved.

“Hmm,” Yoongi hums and Hoseok wants Yoongi to look at him just this once, knows Yoongi wants to, even.

(Admittedly, Yoongi’s always had more self control than Hoseok ever will.)

“Stop,” Yoongi says gently, a slight undertone of warning in his voice but Hoseok can tell when to push his luck. This was one of those times.

“Stop what?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth followed by a soft sigh.

“You’re just being cranky,” Hoseok chuckles and feels Yoongi tense under Hoseok’s warm breath hitting his neck. He stops though, because work is work and Hoseok knows his priorities.

Their priorities. As ‘J-Hope’ and ‘Suga’. As a unit of a band that depended on them.

They lapse back into a comfortable silence after that, punctuated by the occasional suggestions and sips of coffee along with the scratching of Hoseok’s pencil and the clicking of Yoongi’s mouse. Outside, the rain comes down harder and Hoseok wonders vaguely if Namjoon has finished with his own track by now.

“God,” Yoongi says, pushing back from the desk and lolling his head back, “I fucking hate this.”

Yoongi doesn’t. Hoseok knows that, they both do. What Yoongi hates is the blank they pull sometimes when Yoongi just wants to be alone with Hoseok without having to worry about the members’ eyes on them or worse, lenses of the cameras in front of which stretched smiles and choreographed waves have become second nature.

Hoseok knows when Yoongi needs to be touched, too. They’ve been at this long enough, after all.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, voice a little hoarse from lack of use and Yoongi’s neck snaps towards him immediately, eyes locking at Hoseok’s in a way that is pleading enough to make Hoseok’s heart clench. It’s the kind of pleading that Hoseok recognizes so well from his own eyes; the kind that is begging hopelessly into an empty void for some other life, in some other universe where they could have met differently, maybe somewhere far away from here, somewhere without the flashing lights and news tabloids.

Somewhere they could learn to fall in love together.

“Hobi,” Yoongi croaks and Hoseok’s heart skips a beat because Yoongi almost never calls him that, obvious from the way the word sounds broken on Yoongi’s tongue.

Hoseok knows what to do.

There’s a pause in which Hoseok gets so close to Yoongi, their faces are millimeters apart and Yoongi’s breath is hoseok’s lips, hitching in anticipation. Hoseok runs his fingers gently through Yoongi’s bed hair, smoothing out the knots before his hands settle on cupping Yoongi’s jaw and Yoongi’s eyes are closed to hold onto one moment of pretending that they will be okay.

It breaks Hoseok’s heart.

He leans in then and Yoongi gasps softly when their lips touch and Hoseok explodes into a puddly mess of nerves and electricity and butterflies between soft lips and the softest of touches and he wants, wants so much, so very much to stay like this always, next to Yoongi, loving Yoongi, kissing him, kissing him the way he deserved to be kissed, without bruises and heartbreak. The kind of way Hoseok cannot give Yoongi.

For now though, it’s okay.

Hoseok pulls away reluctantly at last, painfully aware of the time ticking by but Yoongi is frozen for a minute, unable to open his eyes afterwards, lips pinker than usual, face flamed up.

“Work,” Hoseok giggles and Yoongi’s eyes fly open, dancing with playfulness as he hits Hoseok’s arm and Hoseok giggles again.

It’s amazing how much they get done after that.