it was always you → myg
♢ Pairing: Yoongi x non-famous!reader → idol au
♢ Word count: 11k
♢ Genre: romance, chilhood-best-friends-to-lovers, denial, slight angst, real adulthood shit
⌲ Description: Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea. Falling in love with your best friend, who happened to be a world-famous idol, was an even worse one. Too bad your heart had never listened to reason, especially when it came to him.
m a s t e r l i s t
“A moment, Y/N?”
You were not often irritated. It was actually quite hard to get you to a point where it showed on the surface. You know, customer service and all that.
But there was something about finishing your seven hour shift – that in actuality turned to nine hours – only to have your name called with your jacket halfway over your shoulders.
Your mouth probably quivered in the effort, but you managed to force on a half-smile anyways. “Yeah?”
“Listen, I hate to ask you this, but can you take a shift tomorrow?”
If your manager hated it as much as she claimed, she would have asked anyone but you. Especially knowing how many extra shifts you had picked up lately due to sickness from other employees. More often than not, you cursed your strong immune system.
Where was a cold when you truly needed it?
“I’m sorry, I’m actually busy tomorrow.” The lie was effortless on your part.
Your manager’s brows furrowed. “No way you can postpone?”
“No sorry. It’s a family birthday, can’t really postpone that, you know.”
You were honestly bone-tired after working the entire week, with all your six hour shifts becoming overtime by several hours and you just needed one damn day of rest. To just bed rot to your heart’s content without worrying.
Your pride was usually too stubborn, and a few extra bucks in your account each month definitely never hurt, but you were certainly feeling your age right now.
“Oh okay.”
That was it, you supposed, mentally rolling your eyes as your manager turned back around without a goodbye as you watched her walk away with the tight smile still present.
God, you were not paid enough to deal with her attitude.
“Bitch.” you couldn’t help but mutter to yourself.
The cold was unforgiving in the beginning of this year, and you had never been much of an ice, snow or even cold weather person to begin with, which added to your already foul mood.
You had to switch metro lines once, and then take a bus to get to your destination. And the idiot should appreciate your effort after a long shift. Not to mention all the security measures needed for you to get past just to get to his building.
The front door had never looked more inviting as you entered the doorcode and let it close shut behind you with a rhythmic beep. You could hear the sound of talking coming from the living room or kitchen, as well as the sound of the TV somewhere in the background.
“If anybody’s looking for me, it’s your birthday tomorrow!” You called out just before rounding the corner to the kitchen.
Yoongi blinked at you, while Jimin and Taehyung were mid-giggle about something.
“Oh, hey boys,” you added quickly, trying to hide the fatigue in your voice.
A black little fluff ball weaved out from beneath the dinner table and trotted over to you eagerly as you cooed and bent down to greet him. “Look who it is, hi Tangie.”
The black cat was vocal, meowing at you in greeting and rubbing against your legs until you gently pushed him away to go sit down.
“Hiyaa noona,” Tae grinned at you, picking up a piece of meat from the grill on the table.
“Noona, come eat with us!” Jimin stood up to grab an extra set of chopsticks and a bowl of rice as you plopped down on the chair next to Yoongi.
“What are you talking about?” He drawled to your sudden shoutout while wrapping up his ssam.
“If my manager is asking, I'm busy with a family birthday tomorrow.”
“And how would your manager know me?”
“It’s a what-if situation, Yoongs. Just go with it.”
He huffed and wordlessly plated your bowl with rice and several pieces of perfectly grilled meat, as Jimin poured you a glass of soju. Always the gentlemen.
You caught yourself smiling, small and soft, and felt the weariness in your chest ease just a little from their presence.
“Was work tough today, noona?”
“Less tough and more annoying, to be honest.”
“Let’s drink to that!” Tae held out his glass as you two clinked and downed it one shot.
“What’s with the impromptu dinner?” You asked after a few bites.
“We were bored,” Jimin shrugged.
“They didn’t exactly ask to come,” Yoongi clarified in return. “Barged in like an hour ago demanding me to cook.”
“We asked you,” Taehyung corrected. “And came bearing gifts.”
“You mean soju which I already had in my fridge?”
“And now you got double, you’re welcome.”
You only chuckled to yourself at the usual bickering between the boys as they continued to talk about the past, and down alcohol like it was water.
Maybe it was the weather, or even the significance of a new year beginning. But your mind somehow felt reminiscent. Sitting here in Yoongi’s large home, silently watching as he acted annoyed by his two younger members with that smile on his face.
And somewhere in the back of your mind, the memories started to drift.
Your parents had been close – were close to this day. Though Yoongi’s family had moved to a newer house in the years that followed whilst your family still remained in the same neighborhood.
They had dragged you to dinner at the petulant age of ten, promising there was going to be another kid there your age, and someone for you to play with. They just never mentioned it was a boy. And at that age, boys were very much gross to you. And yet, you grew inseparable.
Yearly summer vacations spent together, sitting on the curb eating ice creams, biking through the streets and waiting for each other after school to walk home together. During your middle school years the two of you would often hang out on the school’s rooftop during breaks, being split into different classes. He was always scribbling away, and you beside him lounging tilting your head curiously now and then.
“I’m gonna move to Seoul one day,” he often declared.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“You love music, of course you’ll move.”
He frowned. “Do you think I’ll make it?”
“Yes,” you answered immediately. “Because you’re stubborn.”
By the time the two of you turned seventeen he was already active in the underground hip hop scene in Daegu. And you were often used as a scapegoat to distract his parents from his absence rather than being by his side.
“I’m supposed to be cool, Y/N. I can’t have you by my side like a clingy sister every performance,” he had whined while you gave him an unimpressed look.
“Cool, my butt.”
You had been the one to help him pack the day before his move to Seoul, choosing which clothes were best fit for the fancy big city neither of you had experience living in.
“Take the black one,” you had ordered.
“But I like the yellow one.”
“It makes you look like a middle schooler, don’t you want to be taken seriously?”
He switched it out without another word.
His first year in Seoul went by with constant phone calls and texts. You even got scolded by your mother for spending your entire monthly phone credit in just two weeks for constantly calling him.
And then one day it just stopped.
At first you hadn’t thought much of it. Yoongi was busy, and he often left you on read due to time restraints. But then it got suspicious. To the point even his own mother had received the same treatment.
‘Are you dead?’
‘Yoongs?’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Did I do something?’
‘Hello?’
There were days between each one. And then weeks later, you got a reply;
‘I’m fine.’
You called right away, but it went unanswered.
You couldn’t even remember your feelings back then, it felt too long ago. An emotional turmoil of a teenager that made no sense. And you had no choice but to grow up and continue your own life despite the heartbreak of a friendship lost.
That’s why it felt strange at first when you stumbled across it; Bangtan Sonyeondan’s debut.
It was a strange name, with an even stranger concept. But you had recognized him.
Of course you had.
And ever since that moment, he had never left your orbit even from a distance. Even when you didn’t want to, you saw it all. From their failed attempts to remain popular, to songs that didn’t make it big yet were still added to your playlist for genuinely being good music.
It came to a point where you no longer viewed him as your Yoongi. But rather BTS’ Suga, and a part of you was convinced it helped you move on quicker.
Then COVID hit, and you were forced to move back home to your parents.
You chalked it up to coincidence at first; running into his mother at the grocery store after how many years? She had grown excited, even teary-eyed and hugged the life out of you as she cooed over how grown you were. A beautiful young woman.
“You know, I think he’d love to hear from you.”
Your breath had hitched, until you forced out a small, polite laugh. “It’s been years. I doubt he even remembers.”
She had given you a knowing glance, rummaged in her bag and ripped out a small piece of paper and written a number on it. “He’s having a bit of a rough time right now, with everything being cancelled. I think a text from you would cheer him up.”
You felt your chest tighten, memories flooding back. The late-night calls, the unanswered messages, even the reluctant acceptance of distance.
“I’ll think about it, thank you.”
And you thought about it. For days. Staring at that single slip of paper like it was your largest obstacle.
‘Hey. It’s Y/N. From Daegu.’
It had only been an hour when the reply came.
‘I know.’
“Another shot?” Jimin’s voice snapped you from your thoughts, chopsticks hovering dramatically over the grill.
“Yeah,” you said with a small laugh, reaching for your glass. Tae clinked his against yours, smirking.
Yoongi glanced at you, brow slightly raised, as if he could tell your mind was elsewhere. ‘You okay?’ His silent question was obvious and you just assured him with a smile.
Yoongi always kept the grill going and filled your bowl to the point you were ready to roll home. So when it hit 10PM, you stood up with a stretch. “Right, time for me to head off.”
Yoongi’s brows furrowed as he glanced at the time. “It’s late already, just stay over.”
“Nuh uh. I stay at your place almost more than my own, and I still pay my bills.”
“Just stay and let me drive you home tomorrow morning.”
“The bus straight to my house is literally down the road,” You gave him a pointed look. “Besides, It’s my first day off in a week, so I will be rotting in my own bed and eating unhealthy food the entire day.”
With that declaration you grabbed your bag and gave them all a wave over your shoulder. “Don’t text me tomorrow unless someone’s dying.”
“At least let me call you a taxi!” He called at your retreating back.
“Buh bye!” Was all you said, and the sound of the door being unlocked and closing again. You left behind a waft of your favorite perfume; a deep warm combination of something spicy and floral.
Silence swiftly took over in your departure besides the TV. Well, for five seconds at least, until Jimin broke it.
“So when’s the wedding, hyung?”
“What are you on about?”
“Oh come on!” He giggled. “You’re telling me she isn’t the perfect woman for you?”
“She’s Y/N,” Yoongi rolled his eyes.
Taehyung smirked knowingly “Yeah, Y/N who’s been by your side since you were both ten.”
“Yah, not you too, Taehyung.”
“I’m just saying, hyung. Jimin has a point.”
“What point? She’s my best friend.”
“The point, that she's the only female who’s been by your side longer than your mom. And you’re saying you don’t have feelings for her?”
“Stop being a nuisance and finish the food.”
“Hyungnim!” Jimin suddenly spat out firmly, his face exaggeratingly strict which did not go in hand with his flushed cheeks and messy hair, as Taehyung snorted.
Yoongi only raised a brow silently, waiting.
“As your family, we think you need to pull your denial out of your ass and start looking.”
He ran a hand through his longer hair now, sighing heavily, knowing the two younger men wouldn’t let this go until he heard them out.
“Meaning?”
“Be honest, hyung,” Taehyung had dropped his chopsticks, leaning forward conspicuously over the table like they were discussing some kind of secret. “Are you telling us you haven’t once looked at Y/N noona and thought she was attractive?”
Whether he was actually thinking about it or just teasing them by taking an extra long time to pour his shot and then sip it, they didn’t know. But Yoongi finally answered with a light shrug. “I have.”
“Because I can definitely tell you that Jeonggukie–wait what?” Taehyung actually looked genuinely surprised whilst Jimin let out a triumphant laugh while clapping.
“You have?”
Another shrug. “I’m well aware that Y/N is a pretty woman.”
“Then why haven’t you told her?”
“I tell her all the time.”
Jimin cut in with his continuous giggles. “Hyung, telling her she looks good, is not the same as telling your potential girlfriend you look beautiful.”
“Stop getting ahead of yourself. Who said anything about a girlfriend?”
“Oh my God.”
Leaning back in his chair, Yoongi zeroed back on Tae. “What were you saying about Jeongguk?”
It was Taehyung’s turn to shrug. “We’re pretty sure he has a crush on Y/N.”
“What makes you say that?”
Jimin exhaled, holding up his hand ready to count. “She’s pretty, smart, independent, physically fit, has tattoos and bonus points for being older. That’s pretty much his type.”
Yoongi didn’t react immediately. Because when Min Yoongi didn’t react, he was thinking. Deeply at that.
Their hyung usually had a quick brain, and never failed to make them speechless with how smart he actually was.
So this…this was a good sign. Right?
"He told you that?”
Jimin blinked. “Huh?”
“Didn’t think he had a type,,” Yoongi repeated flatly, eyes still on the table, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. “Did he tell you that, or are you just assuming?”
Taehyung and Jimin shared a look.
“We have eyes, hyung,” Taehyung said carefully. “He’s not exactly subtle.”
Jimin nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he gets all–” he gestured vaguely, shoulders hunching as he put on a poor imitation, “–Noona~ did you eat?’ ‘Noona~ you look tired’–”
“It’s actually quite pitiful to witness,” Taehyung added.
Yoongi clicked his tongue, looking away. “You’re both reading too much into it.”
“Are we?” Taehyung asked, brows raising slightly.
“Most likely, like always..”
“Then why do you look like that?”
Yoongi frowned. “Like what?”
“Like you want to punch something.”
Jimin snorted. “Or someone.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t,” he repeated, firmer this time.
Then Jimin leaned forward slightly, resting his chin in his hand, eyes narrowing just a little. “Hyung.”
“What.”
“You know we’re not saying this to mess with you, right?”
He rolled his eyes, mouth tugging. “I know.”
“Then why are you acting like this?”
Yoongi exhaled sharply, standing up before either of them could say anything else to grab a bottle of soju and shutting the fridge door a little harder than needed. “Because the two of you are trying to fish for something that isn’t there..”
“You’re certain about that?” Taehyung asked unflinchingly. He had grown more outspoken with his thoughts around his oldest members after the military, and Yoongi was getting the whole spectacle right now. “You’ve been weird about her for a while now.”
Yoongi turned slightly, leaning back against the counter, arms crossing. “Okay, weird how?”
Jimin exchanged another look with Taehyung before answering. “You watch her.”
Yoongi’s jaw clenched, expression still trying to feign disinterest.
“Like, all the time,” Jimin added. “You think no one notices, but–”
“That’s–”
“You do,” Taehyung smirked. “And you get annoyed when someone else is paying attention to her.”
“I don’t–”
“And you always make sure she eats,” Jimin continued, back to counting on his fingers now. “And you let her do whatever she wants here, but if anyone else does the same thing, you complain.”
Yoongi opened his mouth to protest, but his members were doing their darn best to not let him get a single word in.
“You remember things she says that she doesn’t even remember saying.”
He looked away, down at the floor, really. At the slippers covering his feet “…so what?” he muttered. “She’s my friend.”
Jimin tilted his head. “Is that all she is?”
“Yes.” The answer came out automatically.
But it must have worked, because the persistence of Jimin and Taehyung seemed to calm down as they shrugged and finally left the topic alone, as if agreeing to let him off the hook for tonight.
So to distract himself from their annoying gazes and muttered laughter, he did the dishes. Slowly and meticulously, because his brain was whirring too much to actually focus.
And without his knowledge, Jimin smiled lightly behind his tense back exchanging a silent fist bump with Tae, as if the both of them didn’t just drop something in their second-oldest hyung’s lap and just disappear.
“…Tch.”
+
The tip of your pointed heels were pinching your toes for each step as you got off the bus in a slight hurry, trying to smooth down your freshly curled hair and flyaways all in one movement as the venue got closer. There were already dozens of guests mingling inside, holding champagne flutes and exchanging polite conversation as you brushed past them.
You spotted the main couple near one of the double entrances greeting guests, and as you got closer your friend’s face brightened in recognition.
“Y/N, you came!” She squealed happily, hugging you as her white poofy dress swallowed your legs as you stepped into the hug.
You grinned at her excitement, impressed that she still had that much energy and returned the hug gently to not ruin anything. “Of course I came, you invited me.”
“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” Her husband smiled beside her, shaking your hand.
“Of course, of course,” you waved off their gratitude before pulling out the white envelope from your purse. “Where’s the box?”
“Oooh, I’ll show you!” Soojin, your childhood friend, looped her arm through yours. “Honey, will you take over a bit? I need some girl talk.”
Her husband only smiled. “You two go ahead, I can handle the crowd.”
Before you had a chance to protest, Soojin was already pulling you into the venue hall where dozens of round tables were set up filled with people, but she pulled you further to the back where a large box for money envelopes stood and grabbed a flute of champagne for you on the way.
“So,” you finally managed to pull her to a stop as the two of you stood in the corner, private but not hidden from sight. “How does it feel to be married?”
“Ugh, tiring,” Soojin let her head drop back, long veil brushing the floor. “But at least it’s almost over and done with.”
You glanced out of the room. “Who are even all these people?”
She waved her hand. “No idea. Most of them are his colleagues or friends of his parents’. My family and I just invited close friends and relatives.”
Sipping from the glass, you chuckled but stopped when noticing her looking. “What?”
“How’s everything on your end? Any handsome gentleman that is making those wedding bells ring?”
“God no!” You scoffed. “I’m a single, thirty-three year old woman who works at two different cafés. Not exactly dating material.”
“Girl,” Soojin pushed your shoulder in disagreement. “Who gives a shit what your job is, at least you have one!”
Fair point.
You huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you took another sip of champagne. “Yeah, well, try telling that to literally any man over thirty.”
“They’re idiots,” she dismissed immediately. “And probably intimidated.”
“By what? My ability to steam milk and survive on three hours of sleep?”
“By this,” she gestured vaguely at you, up and down, as if that explained everything. “You’ve always had this thing, you know. Like you don’t need anyone. Independent woman and all that shit.”
A part of you was strangely touched by that.
“I don’t,” you replied lightly, though it came out quieter than intended.
Soojin’s expression softened just a fraction, like she caught the shift but chose not to dig. “Still,” she nudged you again, grin returning. “if anyone tries anything tonight, I expect a full report.”
You rolled your eyes. “At your own wedding?”
“Especially at my own wedding. It’s prime matchmaking territory.”
“I’m not getting set up with someone’s cousin.”
“Too late,” she sang, already reaching for your hand again. “Come on, I need to introduce you to–”
“Soojin!” Her name was called from across the room, sharp enough to cut through the chatter.
She groaned dramatically. “Saved by the bell.”
“Go,” you laughed, gently pushing her away. “Bride duties.”
She squeezed your hand once more before letting go. “Don’t disappear, okay?”
“No promises.”
And just like that, she was gone, swallowed back into the crowd, her white dress a moving beacon among dark suits and muted colors of people dressed in mostly sleek business attires rather than fancy dresses.
You ended up seated somewhere in the middle of the hall, wedged between a couple who introduced themselves as Soojin’s university friends and another woman who barely looked up from her phone.They were nice enough, with polite smiles, brief introductions and small talk that never quite went anywhere if you were being honest.
You nodded when appropriate, laughed when expected, sipped your drink awkwardly when silence stretched just a second too long.
“…and then we all went to Busan for spring break, it was insane–”
The plates came and went, courses replaced one after another as speeches started, applause echoing across the room in bursts. You clapped along, half-genuine half out of your depth watching Soojin from afar; her bright smile, the way she leaned into her husband without thinking, the ease of it.
Something in your chest pinched at the sight. Jealousy perhaps, or even longing. You wondered just briefly, how it would feel. To have something like this, a day of celebration with a person constant at your side.
You prided yourself in being an independent woman in a big city like Seoul. Surviving by yourself, not needing anyone to help with most things, but then he happened. Yoongi swooped back into your life like some damn hurricane, flipping your days upside down.
No longer did you wake up to a silent phone, but a text message telling you to come over to dinner. Sometimes you found his car parked outside after a late shift and he would drive you home, or if you stayed over he would drive you to work with a full stomach.
It was nauseating how caring he was without realizing it, and it didn’t help that your heart and stomach fluttered at everything he did.
By the time dessert rolled around, you were halfway through mentally planning what greasy takeout you’d order tomorrow when her familiar voice came again.
“Y/N!” You looked up to see Soojin slipping into the empty chair beside you, slightly breathless, cheeks flushed from moving around all evening.
“Finally found you,” she said, grabbing your arm like she was afraid you’d disappear.
You smiled, setting your fork down. “I’ve been here the whole time.”
“I know, but everyone keeps pulling me everywhere,” she huffed, before her eyes scanned your table briefly. “Are you okay? You look a bit bored.”
“I’m not bored,” you lied easily. “Just tired, double shifts.”
“Mm,” she hummed, clearly not buying it. Then, like a switch flipped, her expression brightened. “Okay, but listen. I know someone.”
You blinked. “Please no.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“He’s single, works in finance, makes good money–”
“I don’t care if he owns the bank, Soojin.”
“He’s tall!”
You gave her a flat look. “That’s your selling point?”
“It’s an important one.”
You let out a quiet laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “I’m not interested. But appreciate the effort.”
“Why not?” she pressed. “You can’t just be single forever.”
“Do you want to bet on that?”
“I’m serious!”
“So am I,” you said with a giggle, lifting your glass.
“Girl, stop,” she nudged you hard enough to make you lean slightly. “You’re hot, you’re funny, and you’ve always had your life together way more than the rest of us.”
“That’s debatable.”
“It’s not,” she insisted. “And you should be dating. You deserve that.”
You softened a little at that, but still shook your head. “It’s just not… something I’m thinking about right now.”
“That’s exactly why I need to interfere.”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m just saying–” she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “what about someone you already know?”
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “I don’t like where this is going.”
She grinned. “What about Min Yoongi?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden name drop as your heart hammered. “Why him?”
Soojin tilted her head, studying you. “Didn’t you guys date?”
“What?” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head immediately. “No. Since when?”
“That’s what everyone thought,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You were literally attached at the hip.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, glancing down at your plate, “we also didn’t speak for like ten years after.”
There was a small pause, enough for you to look up only to regret. Because her eyes were fucking sparkling like the diamonds from her engagement ring she had sent a picture of.
“No,” you warned immediately.
“You like him.”
“Soojin–”
“You do!”
You dragged a hand over your face, groaning under your breath. “Can you not start something at your own wedding?”
“This isn’t something, this is a revelation.”
“It’s not.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
“I just did.”
“No, you deflected.”
“Okay, fine!” You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice despite the noise around you. “But you do realize we’re talking about one of the world’s most famous idols right now?”
“And?” she shot back instantly.
“And that should end the conversation and the possibility of anything.”
Soojin didn’t answer immediately, which was worse. She always had something to say. “No,” she shook her head lightly. “That’s your excuse.”
You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Excuse? For what?”
“For not even trying.”
Your jaw tightened just slightly. “That’s not–” you started, then stopped, fingers tightening around your glass. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple for me,” she said, softer now, but just as persistent. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re shutting something down before it even exists.”
You glanced away, eyes drifting back toward the head table where she had been sitting earlier, where everything looked natural.
Because the fear of your feelings ruining this friendship again was something you didn’t want to see happen. Just the thought of it was more painful than actually being rejected. You had gone a decade without him, and now that you finally had him back in your life, you didn’t want to lose him again.
“He’s my best friend,” you said instead, the words coming out more firmly than you felt. “I’m not risking that.”
“And?” she asked after a moment.
“And,” you continued, voice lower now, “he has his life. I have mine.”
“That doesn’t mean–”
“It kind of does,” you cut in gently. “Be realistic for a second.”
Her brows furrowed. “I am being realistic.”
“No,” you shook your head, finally looking back at her. “You’re being romantic.”
“And you’re being pessimistic.”
“How?.”
“By being scared.”
You went quiet, because there wasn’t an immediate comeback for that. Soojin’s gaze softened just a little when you didn’t respond. “You still talk to him, don’t you?” she asked.
“...yeah.”
“How is it? When you do?”
You let out a small breath, looking down at your hands. “It’s normal,” you said after a second. “Like nothing changed.”
“And you don’t think that means anything?”
You gave a faint, almost tired smile. “It means we were friends for a long time.”
“Maybe that’s not all?” Soojin let out a breath, turning to fully face you sitting sideways on the chair. “You’re saying it’s not realistic because he’s an idol, and that might be true for fans, but you’re not a fan, Y/N. You’re already neck deep in his world.”
“If I cross that line,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully, “there’s no going back.”
Soojin stayed quiet.
“So I’d rather just…” you trailed off, shrugging lightly. “Keep it like this.”
Her lips pressed together, like she didn’t quite agree but understood anyway. “And you’re okay with that?”
Your eyes flickered, almost unconsciously, back toward the front of the room. Toward her, her husband, the soft glow of something settled and certain before looking away again with a shrug.
“I have to be.”
+
You woke up late.
Deliciously late.
It was definitely later than intended, but not enough to make you feel guilty about it. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in dull winter light that made everything feel slower than usual.
You stared at the ceiling for a moment, duvet pulled to your chin and trapping the comfortable warmth underneath, mind blank.
Until it wasn’t.
Your brain, traitor that it was, immediately started replaying yesterday.
Yoongi’s hand brushing against yours when he passed you the glass.
The way he had said, just stay over.
The way he always–
You groaned, dragging the blanket over your face. “Stop it,” you muttered.
It didn’t mean anything, because it never did. Especially when it came from him. It’s just who he was and you’ve known that since you were ten. But still, it was your own fault not listening to the oldest rule in the friendship book, aka. falling for your own best friend.
You dropped the blanket and stared at the ceiling again. “…annoying,” you sighed.
You stretched lazily, letting your arm fall back onto the bed as you debated getting up when your phone buzzed from the bedside table.
Your brows furrowed slightly as you turned your head, reaching for your phone.
Jeonggukkie: are you alive?
You huffed a small laugh, already typing back.
You: barely
Three dots appeared immediately.
Jeonggukkie: dramatic did you eat
You stared at the message just as your stomach rumbled and the time finally made you realize it was actually 1PM already.
You: Not yet
A small pause went by.
Jeonggukkie: ok, i’m coming over
Your eyes widened slightly, fingers tapping furiously
You: why
Jeonggukkie: don’t argue 20 mins actually give me 30
You blinked at the screen. “…This kid,” you muttered, but there was no real annoyance behind it.
You pushed yourself up with a sigh, stretching as your feet hit the floor. “Guess I have to be a functioning adult now,” you mumbled, dragging yourself toward the bathroom.
Twenty five minutes later there was a knock at your door. Jeongguk stood there, hood up, cap and mask on with two bags of food in his hands as well as takeaway coffee. You stepped aside quickly, pulling him in and shutting the door behind him like you were hiding a fugitive. “Did anyone see you?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Did you check?”
He blinked. “Check what?”
“The street? The cameras? The neighbors?”
He just stared at you as you locked the door. “You’re stressed.”
“I am stressed,” you snapped, turning to face him. “I’m stressed for you. Why are you not stressed?”
“I’m stressed in appropriate situations” he said easily, slipping off his shoes. “Just not about this.”
“That’s worse.”
He laughed under his breath, holding up the bags. “I brought food. Rosé tteokbokki, mild flavored, and pork belly.”
You still refused to give in, even though you were practically drooling at the smell wafting towards you now, until he held up the last bag of two coffees.
“I also bought your favorite; vietnamese iced coffee.”
“Fine,” you gave in, pulling out a chair and dropping down opposite of him as he was already unpacking everything and grabbed two pairs of chopsticks from your drawer.
Jeongguk shrugged off his jacket and mask, as he grinned knowingly at your weakness.
“You always bring food when you’re committing crimes.”
“I’m not committing a crime.”
“You’re an internationally known idol sneaking into a civilian’s apartment unannounced,” you said, grabbing the first piece of meat and then tteok, humming content. “That feels illegal.”
He never stopped that grin, following you in grabbing some food and handing you the coffee after stirring it, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“You worry too much, noona.”
“I worry the exact right amount,” you shot back. “One blurry photo and your entire company will be breathing down your neck.”
“As if they dare.”
You turned to glare at him. “Confidence much?.”
“And you are way too paranoid.”
You opened your mouth – then paused. “Okay, maybe a little.”
He snorted. “A little?”
“Shut up, kid.”
Both of you ate mostly in silence, although you noticed him only taking a small bite here and then, letting you enjoy yourself while sipping on his own coffee. You were the one who had introduced the boys to the deliciousness that was Vietnamese iced coffee with condensed milk, and you would catch most of them drinking it now and then after practice, or whenever you met up with them for quick coffee catch-ups.
Jeongguk leaned back slightly, watching you with quiet satisfaction. “You look less dead from the last time I saw you.”
“Wow. Thank you. What a way to make a woman feel better.”
“You’re welcome.”
You rolled your eyes, but your shoulders had already dropped. As you leaned back in your rickety little plastic chair you got on a sale on Coupang, you watched Jeongguk carefully.
He did look wholly out of place in your little studio loft apartment that probably fit in his living room alone. But he still found it comfortable here in your space. Like an annoying little brother who had nowhere else to go, as if his six older members didn’t have large fancy homes of their own.
He was just persistent when it came to you, and worried as if his schedule wasn’t a hundred times harder than your own minimum wage, mundane café jobs.
Jeongguk noticed you stopped eating and stood up wordlessly to pack the remaining leftovers in a box for later, and started cleaning up everything as well as recycling, leaving you to relax and enjoy your coffee.
“I heard you went to hyung’s yesterday.”
What a smooth talker. “Hm, did Jimin snitch?”
He chuckled. “It was Taehyung hyung, actually.”
“And what did he say?”
“Nothing much. Just that you came by while they were eating.”
“Right…you’re being nosy.”
Jeongguk shrugged, drying his hands on the towel before sitting back down. “I have eyes. And nosy hyungs who update me on everything even when I’m not interested.”
“You and everyone else, I suppose.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, before turning serious again. “Why haven’t you told him yet?”
You flickered up a brow, pausing your sipping on the straw. “I told you that in confidence,” you said flatly. “Not to use as ammunition.”
Jeongguk ignored your dig. “You should tell him.”
You snorted immediately. “Yeah, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I enjoy my stressfree life?”
“That’s a lie.”
You leaned back. “Oh?”
“You’re miserable when you overthink, noona” he stated simply. “And you’ve been doing that a lot, so not as ‘stressfree’ as you think.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re very observant for someone who used to have a crush on me.”
“Used to,” he emphasized, as if the memory itself brought forward shudders. “And very briefly at that.”
It was fucking ironic, actually. You, sitting here discussing your current long-time crush on your best friend with one of his best friends that used to have his own crush on you.
Jeongguk, despite his younger age, had been upfront about his feelings for you right before his military enlistment. Thankfully he hadn’t been too deep in to actually get heartbroken when you both gave it two dates before realizing friends fit you better.
Not that anyone was aware of this. God, the chaos it would bring if they knew.
“Mm.” The silence settled for a bit, as you forced yourself to relax before admitting. “It’s complicated.”
Jeongguk pursed his lips in thought. “Does it have to be?”
“It does with him.”
Jeongguk didn’t respond right away. “What if he likes you too?”
You let out a small laugh. “Not possible. He’s Min Yoongi. His love is his work.”
“Maybe a couple of years ago, but we’ve all matured since then.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want to worry about it right now, Guk. Let’s not, okay.”
He wanted to protest, you saw it. But he respected you enough to not push so he nodded.
“Okay, noona. Let’s just relax, how about a movie?”
You smiled thankfully. “Sounds good. You choose.”
And just as you were settled in the couch and the intro started playing, your phone buzzed with a text.
Yoongs: What are you doing?
You typed a reply without much thought.
You: watching a movie with guk
You waited for a reply, but it never arrived. Not even after the movie had ended and Jeongguk had left.
+
A couple of days go by before you find yourself looking for him again. But this time it’s at HYBE.
You always feel like a nervous wreck stepping inside the intimidating glass building, your stomach fluttering with worries that probably won’t happen.
Like the security dragging you out on suspicions for being a stalker fan, for example.
God, your brain went haywire sometimes.
You follow the protocols carefully; stepping up to the reception desk as they register your already known name, printing the guest tag and band for you to wear around your neck with a polite smile.
There were so many people walking in and out of this building on a daily, that most employees didn’t blink when you arrived. For them you could be anyone. From a visiting stylist to a dancer, or even business partner. As long as your name was in the system, it meant you had already passed all security checks and approved for visits whenever.
This time you felt slightly more confident, tapping yourself through the gate and waiting for the lift surrounded by strangers and not fidgeting too much. Your destination was one of the higher floors; dedicated to the Big Hit creative team, and where Yoongi’s studio was located.
You were the only one still in the lift by the time it was your turn to get off, and when you arrived at the closed door of his studio you stared at the keypad for a second longer than necessary. The code still worked a moment later, of course it did, before you pushed the door open and the familiar quiet of Yoongi’s place greeted you immediately.
It was darker than usual, but he was there. On the large, comfortable office chair in front of his desk with four screens, a microphone and more speakers than you could identify.
Despite being half-inside the room already, you knocked lightly anyway.
“Yoongs?”
The studio smelled faintly like decaf and something warmer, perhaps tea. He had reached a stage of only decaf these last few years, which honestly hurt your coffee-loving soul more than anything. The glow of his monitors lit up his face in soft blues and purples, shadows resting under his eyes but nothing you hadn’t seen before.
His black hair was also long again, with bangs framing his now slimmer face from when he first got out of the military.
Yoongi didn’t turn right away, just lifted a hand briefly in acknowledgment.
You hovered for a second before lifting the bag slightly. “I brought food.”
That got his attention. He turned his chair halfway, eyes flickering down to the bag before settling on you. “What is it?”
You held it up like an offering. “Don’t act like you’re not going to eat it.”
A faint huff left him, something just short of a laugh. “Did I say that?”
“You were about to.” You walked over to the low table by the L-shaped couch against the wall, taking out the containers and drinks, already moving like you’ve done it a hundred times. Because, honestly, you had. “Or something along the lines of not being hungry.”
Standing back up with your hands on your hips, you turned to face him again with a pointed look. “You haven’t eaten yet, right?”
“Not yet,” Yoongi confirmed, never seeing the point of lying to you when you already knew him so well.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Shocking.”
You handed him a pair of chopsticks before taking the seat on the small couch tucked against the wall. He swiveled his chair slightly, accepting them without a word.
You had cooked an average pesto pasta with marinated chicken strips. Nothing fancy, and definitely easier to buy as delivery. But a part of you still remembered when Yoongi complimented your cooking during one of the rare times you had made it for him, and he said it tasted better than the ones at restaurants.
You were annoyed how vivid that simple comment still stayed with you.
You watched him, but not obviously. And never long enough to get caught.
Just…small enough glances to feel satisfied.
The way his hair fell slightly into his eyes when he leaned forward. The way his fingers moved without thinking, precise and practiced, even when he was just picking at food with the chopsticks. How fine and elegant his hands looked.
He looked a little tired, you noted. Not surprising, with how much they were all still fine-tuning the new album.
Something in your chest tugged at the sight.
“Did you sleep at all?” You asked after a couple of bites.
He hummed. “A little.”
You narrowed your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
He just shrugged and instead took a bite, knowing you weren’t one to stop him from eating.
You leaned back into the couch, exhaling softly. “You’re going to burn out again.”
It slipped out before you could stop it. His hand paused mid-air for a fraction of a second, then continued.
“I won’t,” He assured you, sounding calm and confident and you did believe him. But a part of you was always worried.
“You always say that.”
“And I’m still here.”
You tilted your head slightly, watching him. “I guess.”
Suddenly there was a knock against the door, and you remained seated watching as he stood up and opened the door to grab whatever the person on the other side handed to him before it closed again.
Yoongi handed it to you, as you pulled out a large sized cup of Vietnamese iced coffee from your favorite coffee shop chain, and felt your heart swell.
“I ordered when you said you were on the way up.”
You smiled faintly into your drink, savoring the taste. “Thanks.”
Your gaze drifted back to him. To the way he had already turned back toward his screen, attention slipped back into his work like nothing else existed.
You knew that look. You've seen it since you were kids.
Back when it was notebooks and scribbles instead of full studios and polished tracks. When you sat next to him on a rooftop, pretending you weren’t watching him as closely as you were.
And somehow nearly fifteen years later, you found yourself still watching.
“Play it.” The words left your mouth before you could overthink them.
He didn’t turn. “Play what.”
“Whatever you’re working on.”
“It’s not finished.”
“When have I ever cared?”
You could almost hear the hesitation as he scrolled through a couple of files, almost thinking which one to choose before a sound filled the studio.
♫Twenty-four hours in the tubTwenty-four hours of your thoughtZ-z-z, don't wake me up꿈이면 깨기 싫어, 내.”
FantasyIt's a fantasy (Ayy, you next to me)It's a fantasy (Oh)You're my fantasy (Take that) ♫
The damn irony of those lyrics, you wanted to scoff to yourself.
“It’s good.” Your voice came out softer than intended, perhaps softer than needed for the poppiness of the song that had filled the studio.
His eyes flickered toward you, just enough that you noticed. And for a second it felt like he was waiting for something else. Instead he huffed lightly. “That’s it?”
You smiled a little. “Do you want me to lie and say it’s bad?”
“No.”
“Then it’s good.” You pulled your legs up on the couch, tucking them underneath you.
He didn’t respond, but you saw it. The smallest shift in his shoulders and the way his posture relaxed just slightly, as if you had confirmed something for him. You couldn’t fathom why he cared that much for your opinion. Your musical understanding was minimal at best.
“You always say that,” he muttered.
“Because it’s always true.”
You looked away first, distracting yourself on your phone. Because if you didn’t, you might keep staring.
And if you kept staring…You honestly didn’t want to think about that.
Your fingers tightened slightly around your cup instead, wanting to say more. You always did, but the words stayed where they were. Always caught somewhere frustratingly uncomfortable between your chest and your throat.
+
Fuck. He genuinely forgot how tiring concert and comeback prep used to be.
Spending months in LA creating songs was a different mental tiredness he could handle better. But the physicality of things? At damn age when it feels like his knees would crack by the slightest bend? Someone give him a break, please.
Luckily he wasn’t the only one who thought so. All of them were struggling more than normal, besides Seokjin and Hoseok, who had been doing their own things for a while now and gotten used to the rush again.
Him and the others though? What a mess.
Jimin and Taehyung would giggle every five minutes at their attempts of coordinating, while Jeongguk would be the one to try and pick a fight just for the fun of it. Namjoon tried his best, laughing along and whining whenever a member teased his dancing, which had actually improved rather than gotten worse.
The guys had even been impressed with the muscle mass he had put on in the last couple of months since returning to Korea. With nothing to do with his time besides finishing up the album, he had decided that starting to hit the gym more seriously was a good idea.
Still, he had managed to switch out one mental stress for another. From album concerns to his own personal life now beating the fuck out of him whenever he thought of a person.
Yoongi was already exhausted by the time he stepped out of the practice studio for a quick pick-me-up. All he wanted was ten minutes of silence and maybe another decaf coffee he absolutely did not need, but could pretend would help him with his exhaustion.
The placebo effect was real, he was convinced.
But instead, he heard your very familiar laugh echoing down the hallway. A voice that shouldn’t be in this building at the moment, to his knowledge.
His steps slowed automatically when he rounded the corner. Jeongguk was leaning against the wall beside you, phone in hand while showing you something on the screen. You stood close enough that your shoulder kept bumping his arm every time you laughed.
“No, wait—play that again,” you said through laughter.
“I’m telling you, hyung looked ridiculous.”
“Jeongguk!!”
“What?” He grinned unapologetically before replaying the video anyway.
Yoongi recognized it immediately, to his chagrin. A behind-the-scenes clip from years ago where he had nearly fallen asleep during an interview, of his eyes dropping in real-time and becoming a meme in the fandom and their groupchat.
Traitor.
You dissolved into laughter again, instinctively grabbing Jungkook’s sleeve for balance. And something inside Yoongi twisted unpleasantly. Which was somehow worse when Jeongguk was the first one to notice him there, of course the damn kid did.
His grin shifted instantly into something more suspicious, which Yoongi did not like.
“Yoongi-hyung.” He straightened casually. “You done already?”
Your head turned immediately, your face lighting up the second you saw him. “There you are.”
Again, that dangerous little sense of relief settled in his chest at your expression. Yoongi shoved his hands into his pockets. “What are you two doing?”
“Bullying you, apparently,” you answered easily.
Jungkook snorted. “She started it.”
“You literally showed me the video!”
“And you enjoyed it.”
“I did.”
Yoongi couldn’t help watching the way Jungkook looked at you when you spoke. The stupid word of Jimin and Taehyung replaying around in his mind of his apparent crush on you.
It was clearly comfortable and playful, perhaps even too comfortable if he could add.
Then Jungkook casually threw an arm over your shoulders, clearly a thoughtless action that he had done several times before. But Yoongi’s jaw tightened instantly.
You, completely oblivious, kept talking like nothing happened. “…and then he got mad at me for laughing,” you continued.
“I did not get mad.”
“You glared at me for like three hours.”
“Because you wouldn’t stop laughing.”
Jungkook looked between the two of you briefly before a slow grin appeared on his face. “Wow.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Nothing.” His grin widened. “You guys are seriously weird.”
If Yoongi hadn’t paid as much attention as he did, he wouldn’t have noticed the slightly sharp nudge you gave into Jeongguk's side as he flinched slightly away.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes slightly. Jungkook only looked more entertained. “I thought you were at work?”
“In an hour, it’s just around the corner so I’d thought to stop by and cheer you all on,” you shrugged.
“You should come eat with us first,” the brat offered.
Before you could answer, Yoongi spoke. “She’s busy.”
Both of you looked at him. Including Yoongi himself, internally, while Jeongguk’s eyebrows lifted slowly.
You frowned. “Am I?”
“You promised to help me with something before, remember?” The lie came easily.
“Oh yeah! I remember now.”
For a second nobody spoke. Then Jeongguk looked like he was physically restraining himself from laughing. “Right,” he said carefully. “Of course she did.”
Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but knowingly while Yoongi avoided looking directly at either of you. You had known each other long enough for you to pick up on his excuse and play along.
And suddenly Jungkook looked way too entertained for Yoongi’s liking.
+
The last employee finally waved goodbye before disappearing down the street, leaving you alone with the familiar task of locking up. You exhaled tiredly, turning the key as you rolled your tight shoulders before tugging lightly on the café door to make sure it was secure.
Your shoulders ached from the long shift, feet even worse, and all you could think about was getting home and collapsing face-first into bed, ignoring the uncomfortable tightness of your stomach.
The low rumble of an engine made you glance up, and a familiar black, gleaming car sat by the curb. You slowed down immediately with a sigh, but the affectionate smile was hard to hide.
And then the driver’s window rolled down. Yoongi looked at you from behind the wheel, one arm resting lazily near the window. “You done?”
“What are you doing?”
“Picking you up, obviously.”
You gave him a pointed look. “And I told you to stop doing that.”
“You said your shift ended late.” That explained absolutely nothing. Still, warmth spread embarrassingly fast through your chest as you crossed the little space toward him.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
Which somehow made this entire situation worse for your stupid heart.
You slid into the passenger seat, immediately greeted by warmth and the faint scent of clean laundry mixed with his cologne. Familiar enough now that your body relaxed before your brain caught up.
“You look tired,” he said once you buckled in.
“Yeah, feel like shit.” You had never been dishonest to him about your work.
The car pulled smoothly back onto the mostly empty road at this time, only a handful of cars whizzing past. For a while, silence filled the space between you comfortably. The radio played quietly in the background while Seoul’s lights blurred outside the windows.
Then Yoongi glanced at you briefly. “Did you eat?”
You looked out the window immediately. “Maybe.”
“That means no.”
“I was busy.”
“You’re always busy.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, and you yell at me for it.”
“Well obviously.” You frowned slightly. “Somebody has to.”
Yoongi hummed quietly, like he found that amusing. A few minutes later, however, you realized the roads looked wrong.
You frowned. “Yoongs.”
“Hm?”
“This isn’t the way to my apartment.”
“I know.”
You turned toward him slowly. “Min Yoongi.”
“You’re eating first.”
“I can eat at home.”
“You won’t.” Annoyingly enough, he sounded completely certain.
“You’re very bossy today.”
“And you’re very stubborn.”
“You say that like it’s new.”
A small smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth before disappearing again.
God. That stupid smile really needed to stop affecting you. And he needed to stop being so easy to love.
“You can sit down,” he called. “I’ll make you something to eat, it won’t take long.”
“I know where your couch is, Yoongi.”
“Just making sure you don’t collapse halfway there.”
“You’re hilarious.”
He smirked. “Go take a shower, you know where the clothes are.”
You sank into the couch with a quiet groan, letting your head fall back briefly before muttering. “I need to wait for a bit. Can’t be bothered to move right now.”
You heard cupboards opening before Yoongi reappeared carrying two bowls, setting one in front of you on the coffee table. Ramyeon with extra green onions and two eggs, exactly how you liked it.
Your chest squeezed slightly, and he must have noticed your expression.
Yoongi looked at you like the answer should’ve been obvious. “You complain when people make it wrong.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
“Fine.”
A quiet huff of amusement left him as he sat beside you, knees touching yours as you both ate. For a while, the only sounds were the television playing softly in the background and the clinking of chopsticks against bowls before you sighed dramatically.
“What.”
“You know, I never told you Soojin’s wedding exhausted me emotionally.”
Yoongi glanced over. “How so?”
You slumped further into the couch. “Do you know how terrifying married people are?”
“That sounds judgmental.”
“They become obsessed with everyone else dating.”
His mouth twitched slightly. “Ah.”
“She tried setting me up with like three different men.”
Yoongi’s chopsticks paused briefly before continuing. “And?”
“And what?”
“Did you want her to?”
You blinked at him. “Not particularly.”
“Why not, I thought you said having someone would be nice.”
You shrugged lightly, staring down into your empty bowl. “I don’t know. I’m busy with life. I’m still paying down on my student debt, my monthly rent is going up in a bit and job applications are going nowhere.”
“You could if you wanted to.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Whose side are you on?”
“I’m just asking.” Something about his tone felt strange to you, almost like an interrogation rather than his usual amused interest.
“Yeah apparently so. She kept insisting I’m ‘too pretty to be single,’” you muttered with a grimace.
Yoongi looked at you then, and your stomach tightened slightly under the weight of it. “Well, she’s right.”
You were fucking certain you were blushing like a damn tomato, but the dim lighting in the room hid most of it. You hoped so at least.
Were your hands clammy? They certainly felt like it.
You stared at him for half a second too long before forcing out an awkward laugh. “Wow. Look at you being nice.”
“I’m serious, though.”
His voice stayed frustratingly steady, and suddenly the air between you felt different again. He was still looking at you, dark eyes looking more intense than you had seen him besides when working on music or on the stage in front of fans.
Your heartbeat started climbing for absolutely no reason. So naturally, your brain panicked. “You know, one of them owned like…three cats.”
Tangie meowed just then from the top of one his cat towers in the room, as if knowing. Yoongi blinked once, clearly caught off guard by the abrupt subject change. “What?”
“At least that’s what Soojin said. Honestly that should’ve been her opening line.”
A quiet laugh escaped him then. And God, you loved that sound more than you should.
“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured almost knowingly.
Your eyes lifted toward his automatically, and this time neither of you looked away. The moment should’ve lasted a second like it always did. The two of you making eyecontact was nothing strange. But it didn’t.
he television kept talking softly in the background. Somewhere in the apartment, a pipe clicked faintly with the heat, Tangie’s claw were gently scraping against his post.
And Yoongi’s gaze dropped, just slightly. But enough to send your heart stuttering.
It was small. Barely there. So quick you almost convinced yourself you imagined it
Your throat went dry. “What?” you asked, quieter than before.
Yoongi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back into the couch, dragging a hand through his hair like he was physically resetting himself. “Nothing.”
What a fucking lie, you both knew it.
Still, you nodded slowly, because that was easier than acknowledging what your body was suddenly doing. How aware you were of his knee still touching yours, of how close he actually was, of the fact that you could smell him even over the food.
Besides the entirely strange moment that just happened between you, you knew something was bothering him otherwise. And if you didn’t ask him, you doubted any of the others would.
Your fingers tightened slightly in your lap. “Yoongs, what’s been bothering you?” you said carefully, like saying his name wrong might break something.
He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh—but there was no humor in it. “Please don’t.”
You blinked. “Don’t what?”
He shook his head once, like he was annoyed at himself more than you. “Forget it.”
He started to stand, hands ready to take the bowls towards the kitchen. And that should’ve been the end of it, but your hand moved before your brain caught up as you caught his sleeve.
Yoongi froze. His gaze flicked down briefly to where your hand still held his sleeve and you let go immediately. However, that didn’t stop you from following him stiff form into the kitchen.
“Why won’t you answer?” Your voice followed him before your feet fully caught up.
Yoongi stopped near the sink and didn't turn around immediately. The bowls were still in his hands, but he didn’t set them down either.
For a second, all you could hear was the faint running of the refrigerator and the distant hum of the city outside the window. “Because you’re not going to like it.”
That made you pause as you scoffed, leaning back against the counter behind you and crossing your arms. “Try me, Min Yoongi.”
Yoongi finally set the bowls down with more care than necessary and when he turned, it was slower than before. His eyes found yours instantly and stayed there as you swallowed.
“You always do this,” he said quietly.
“Do what?”
“Push.”
Your brows knitted slightly, annoyance crawling underneath your skin. “I’m asking a question, Yoongi.”
“I know.” His voice softened, but carefully. Like he was holding something at the edge of slipping.
“Then answer it.”
Silence stretched again; long enough that your chest started tightening in a way you didn’t like. What was he keeping from you? Had something happened? About the album or upcoming tour? Something more internal, perhaps.
A…girlfriend?
Fuck, just the thought of it made something in you want to break but you kept it all together.
Then Yoongi exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, and when he looked at you again, something had changed. Resignation, you realized. He was done holding back whatever had been bothering him.
“You don’t notice it,” he said, and you held back from replying. His gaze flickered briefly down, then back up. “Never mind.”
Your frustration sharpened. “Don’t do that. Start saying things and then stop halfway.”
That made something in his expression shift. “You really want me to finish it?” he asked.
Your heart stuttered, but you nodded anyway. “Of course I fucking do, Yoongi. When have I never listened to you?”
A long silence, then Yoongi finally stepped closer. Just enough that now there was no pretending this was casual anymore.
“I don’t like watching you with other people.”
Your breath caught—but you didn’t interrupt. Because something in you already knew that wasn’t the full sentence.
His voice dropped lower. “And I don’t like how easily you laugh with them, and how I notice it.”
The room went still as your stomach twisted. Your voice came out smaller than you meant. “…Yoongi.”
He didn’t look away and barely moved. Just stayed there, like he’d already crossed a line he couldn’t step back from.
“I don’t know how to stop noticing you, Y/N.”
It was like your brain went dry, and very, very quiet. Your heartbeat hammering in your ears, the only thing you saw was him. Your hands were trembling too, gripping your clothes as you simply tried to take it all in.
Every time he picked you up when you didn’t ask. Every time he asked if you ate like it mattered more than it should. Every time his eyes lingered just a second too long when you laughed at someone else. Every time he went quiet after Jungkook put an arm around you like it physically cost him something not to say anything.
It all snapped into place at once, the dumb realization of it. And how your own worries had been nothing at this point. You had worried for nothing.
And you felt so incredibly dumb.
Your chest tightened, like something inside you had been holding its breath for too long and finally let go.
In the turmoil of it all, Yoongi was still watching you carefully. As if he was waiting for rejection. “…say something,” he said quietly.
That almost made you smile as you stepped closer. His eyes flickered down to you the moment the space between you changed, but he didn’t move and chose to let you control the pacing.
Your hand came up first, gripping the front of his shirt as Yoongi’s breath caught slightly at the contact. That was a new reaction you only just noticed.
You’d never seen him react like that before; like he was the one who might lose control. You loved it.
Your voice came out softer, but surprisingly steady for everything happening inside. “Unbelieveable.”
That was the moment everything inside you shifted from shock into certainty.Because Min Yoongi, calm, composed, unreadable Yoongi, was standing in front of you right now like you were the only thing he couldn’t control.
And you had never wanted anything more.
His brows pulled faintly together. “What is?”
You didn’t even bother to answer, just pulled him down to your height.
Yoongi froze for half a heartbeat before he gave in.
The kiss wasn’t near anything soft and careful. His hand found your waist immediately, steadying you like instinct finally caught up with intention. The tension he’d been holding all night snapped, something long overdue.
Your fingers slid up into his shirt as if you needed something real to hold onto while your brain caught up with the fact that this was happening—this was him—this was the thing you’d been orbiting without naming for years.
His mouth was relentless on yours, moving gently but urgently at the same time as you hummed into the kiss, his tongue caressing yours as you stumbled back into the counter behind you.
Yoongi groaned softly against your mouth, hands coming up to cup your face, fingers curling into your hair deliciously as you sighed.
When you finally broke it, it was only because you had to breathe. Yoongi stayed close, refusing to move as his forehead rested against yours, breathing heavier than before, like he didn’t trust air to behave normally anymore.
The second kiss lingered longer than the first. Your heart was still catching up, beating unevenly in a way you were very aware of.
“So,” you said eventually, voice softer than you meant it to be, “this is happening.”
A faint breath left him, almost a laugh again, but warmer now. “Yeah,” he said simply.
You tilted your head slightly, just enough to look at him properly, unguarded and sparkling. “And what now?” you asked.
His thumb moved once against your back—slow, grounding, like he was thinking with his body more than his words. “I certainly hope this meant you’re willing to become my girlfriend.”
You bit down on your lip, containing the grin wanting to stretch and he noticed it with a shy smile, ducking down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Stop it.”
“I thought you’d never ask, Min Yoongi.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Yes,” you giggled before tightening your hold around his waist, chin resting against his collarbones as your face tilted up. “But you love it.”
His gaze softened visibly, tucking a loose strand behind your ear as his thumb brushed against your cheek. “I do.”
+
The End!
