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Its just a quarter past 7 pm, and they’re already shuffling to the van, bodies weary and tired from a whole day of dance practice, reeking of sweat and fatigue, heavy limbs and heavy eyes as they all take a seat. Namjoon is seated beside their manager who’s behind the wheel. He’s the leader after all, they established that agreement long, long ago. Jimin, Taehyung and Seokjin slots their selves in the middle seats, too bothered to walk even further and sit by the back. Taehyung has his head leaning on Jimin’s shoulder, who’s sitting by the window, staring at the night sky and at the horizon. Seokjin got his neck pillow out, hugging his RJ plushie as he ventures to dream land.
Jungkook, Hoseok, and Yoongi are all seated in the back, Jungkook leaning against the window, light snores already filling the air. And Yoongi, well, Yoongi has Hoseok by his side, closely, the younger man’s head carefully slotted in the junction between his shoulder and neck, eyes shut and has fallen asleep as soon as he leans to Yoongi when they all settled down.
It was a long day for them, waking up at 5 am only to practice and practice and practice endlessly, mastering choreographies that they have memorized some time ago, but still need to polish, still need to be perfect. Hoseok took the lead, as the dance leader, of course. Watching over everyone analytically, eyes scanning for flaws in body movements, for failure to keep up with the timing, for something wrong.
It was a long day indeed.
They had been lucky enough, Yoongi thought to himself. At least they were permitted to go home at such an early hour, not when the sun is just about to rise tomorrow morning. It’s Yoongi’s birthday tomorrow after all, you guys should rest for now, Yoongi remembers one of their managers say. He doesn’t make a big deal for his birthday, no, not any more. Not when he’s already turning 27, with a job that requires more of his time than he would like. But that’s okay, he thinks, being a member of this group, being with people he loves, doing what he loves, is enough, always be.
Its almost 10 pm already by the time that he gets to plop down his bed. They had all dragged their selves out of the van, feet heavy as they trudge to enter their apartment. Each member going to their own rooms, and Yoongi does, too. He considered ordering takeout, maybe some seasoned chicken to appease his hunger, and a bottle of soju (to appease nothing, he just likes the burn of alcohol as it goes down his throat). He blatantly remembers that they’re supposed to be on a diet, with a comeback coming soon, figures and bodies strictly maintained and observed. He sighs, and headed to the kitchen to eat an apple instead.
Seeing Hoseok on his bed, already showered, wearing a thin orange sweater and boxers, as he lazily scrolls through his phone that he got in his hands, is no surprise for Yoongi. Why would he be surprised? They have been used to each other’s presence so long ago, all of them, if those 8 years of living together is something to go by. Without a word he shuffles through his closet, taking a simple white shirt and black underwear, and took a shower. The warm water lifts off the fatigue in his muscles, and replace it with something heavier, in his eyelids, the need to just close his eyes and sleep so, so hard to fight off. He quickly finishes, wearing his clothes for bed, and briefly looks at the mirror. Blond hair again, he quickly sent a prayer to the hair gods for his scalp to stay strong.
Hoseok is still in his bed when he emerges from the shower, but now laying comfortably on the right side, with a pillow tucked under his head and a blanket over his torso, Yoongi’s precious blanket, one with cute duck designs on it, a light blue color in contrast to the minimalistic palette of his room. “Hey hyung”, Hoseok shuffles on the bed, leaving more space for Yoongi, who slips under his covers, of his own bed.
He looks at Hoseok, who seems concentrated now that he sees his face, brows knitted together as he scrolls oh so carefully on his phone, almost facing Yoongi, like he’s trying to not let him see what he’s doing. But Yoongi is tired, so tired, so he talks.
“Whatcha doin here Seok”, his Daegu accent slipped, but that’s okay, that’s normal for them, especially him, when he’s tired and sleepy and feels like a zombie. What’s not okay though, is the warm blush that rushed to his cheeks, not because of the accent, no, but because of the nickname that he addressed Hoseok. God, that’s embarrasing. Good thing Hoseok is still concentrating on whatever he’s doing on his phone, because Yoongi would have to explain the sudden color of his cheeks, and he’s not ready for that; physically, emotionally, and mentally.
Hoseok just hummed a mmm wait, as he continues what he’s doing. He looks so focused, eyes trained on his phone screen, biting down on his bottom lips as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. As much as Yoongi is curious as to what the younger is doing, he still would love to sleep at this instant thank you very much, so he shuffles and laid on his side, ready to slip into a deep sleep, and he can feel it, can feel the pull of it, his brain shutting everything in his system. He waits for it, for the darkness and the slowing down. For sleep to just swallow him.
Until he’s being shaken. By Hoseok. Harshly.
“Hyung no, no, no, no, please don’t sleep yet, hyung”, Hoseok hurriedly rambles, still shaking Yoongi by the shoulders, and Yoongi clicks his tongue in annoyance. He was just about to sleep, to enter temporary unconsciousness, damn it. He was about to snap, heavy insults resting on the tip of his tongue as he turns on his other side to face Hoseok, but then. But then. Hoseok is close, like close close, and he momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to be angry. Instead he breathes in, registers on his sleepy brain this sight in front of him, Hoseok, with his heavy eyelids and pretty eyelashes, nose so sharp and strong, cheeks prominent and glowing in the dimly lit room, lips pursued in a pout that is so, so unfair.
Fucking fuck. He breathes out, and wills himself to fight off the blush threatening to take over his cheeks.
“What the hell do you want Hoseok?” Yoongi manages to croak out despite the thundering of his heart, he can feel blood, rushing and pulsing through his veins, and it wakes him up, his brain up, and he grudgingly thinks that it’s unfair, it really is, how easy it is for Hoseok to unknowingly control him like this.
Hoseok pouts even more, “Hyuuuuuuung”. The little brat.
“Just say it”.
Hoseok sighs. His pout slips away, and Yoongi quickly panics inwardly because no, no, no, he didn’t mean to sound rude and scare him and he-
Hoseok. Hoseok is suddenly smiling, has that little smile on his lips and it looks so fond. Its not the smile that he gives to the fans when they’re on stage, not the smile that he wears when he’s bickering and joking with the members, definitely not the smile that he lets out just carelessly.
Yoongi has seen this smile only on special times, can remember the exact times, like that day when they won the Rookie of the Year award, that night, later in their compressed dorm, Yoongi had seen the younger stare at the trophy that he carefully cages with his hands, that little, fond smile on his face. When Hoseok had seen Mickey after such a long time, nose rubbing against the dog’s fur, little fond smile also there. That one time when they all went to a vacation, just recently, around six months ago, when all is asleep, even the skies and the trees and the river near to their lodging, the cold breeze of the winter air at 5 am in the morning. Hoseok had slipped out of their rented house to watch the sunrise, yanks Yoongi with him, who was the only one awake back then, and he sees it. Sees Hoseok, calm, and that little fond smile again. Fuck.
Yoongi snaps out of his thoughts, because Hoseok is here, face barely a few inches from his, wearing that smile. And it looks so soft, so soft that Yoongi thinks that if Hoseok continues he might just actually melt into a puddle or something. Or something. Like maybe punch him square in the face or kiss that smile away. It varies.
And for a moment, it’s quiet.
Then,
“Hyung, its 11:47 pm” Hoseok said, and he’s grinning now, so many teeth on display, cheeks even puffier, cuter, and Yoongi’s heart stammers in his chest. Although he doesn’t know why Hoseok is so happy about telling him the time.
“Why are you so happy about telling me the time?”, Yoongi puzzles, and Hoseok sighs, he sees the way his shoulders slouch, his pout back, even more prominent now, even in his voice. Fuck.
“Because, my dumb and forgetful Yoongi hyung, its currently March 8 and at exactly midnight it will be March 9” Hoseok explained teasingly. Yoongi lets him pass with the insult and instead just asks, “So?”.
“So? So? Hyung it’s your birthday”, and the younger is full-blown pouting now, bottom lip jutted out in a way that reminds Yoongi of puppies and kittens and Kumamon; cute stuffs.
Oh, Yoongi thinks, oh.
You see, Yoongi first met Hoseok back in 2010, a young boy looking up at him in such a positive and hopeful manner, as he welcomes the new trainee in the dorms. From then on, for 8 years, Hoseok had always been with him to celebrate his birthday with him. The other members are there too, of course, Yoongi loves them to bits, but Hoseok. Hoseok is special, in way that he makes sure to always greet Yoongi at exactly 12 midnight of March 9, be it in person or through text, every year, from 2011 and until now 2019.
They came from a long way, Hoseok and him. Hoseok and Yoongi. Them.
He’s being sentimental. And dumb. He sighs.
“Yeah I know it’s my birthday. So?”, Yoongi tries to sounds as unaffected as he is, voice coming out shakily, trying to appear nonchalant. The brown haired man just rolled his eyes at him, scooting closer to Yoongi, both of them on their backs now.
Hoseok holds out his phone, and Yoongi has to squint through his damaged vision to see what it is. Oh. It’s a tweet draft on twitter, a tweet that Hoseok typed, with three photos. Hoseok beats him to it before he can even analyze the photos and ask.
“This one, is a photo of me, taking a photo of you. Remember that time, hyung? In Paris, that photo that you, rudely, asked me to take, and also rudely, asked me to send to you”, Yoongi snorts at that. Hoseok continues, “After I took that, Sejin hyung sent me this, I didn’t even know he took a pciture of us” -Hoseok giggles shortly- “so, I saved that. This one, this one hyung, is when we were sober enough to do a hwagae market live where I blew a fucking flute, with my fucking nose, because of course, that’s the fucking penalty that you thought of”.
They both giggle at that, and Yoongi lets it wash over him. He remembers the exact day of those photos, special memories, even when it’s not that significant. He stacks those in a special folder in his brain, for keeps. Right now, he feels light, and good and high. Hoseok is so warm beside him, their sides almost molding together at how close they are. The older tries to focus on the last photo on Hoseok’s phone as he talks, it’s a photo Yoongi doesn’t recognize, his first time seeing it. He turns to the younger with a question mark in his eyes. Hoseok laughs, low and breathy, and Yoongi’s heart sings.
“I took this one during the second day of the shooting for our IDOL music video, you know, that part where we’re like oh oh uh-oh” Hoseok sings and dances a little to accompany the explanation, and Yoongi tries hard not to look as smitten as he feels, “I was testing out how the set would look like on my phone, but then you’re in the way, and Tae as well, but I kept the photo anyways”. Hoseok looked rather proud of this, and Yoongi can’t help but return the bright smile Hoseok is wearing, all sunshine and warm rays. Yoongi hopes that the smile he made is enough, it can’t beat Hoseok’s, nothing can, but he hopes at least that it’s enough to convey that he’s happy. Because, Hoseok is happy too, right now, smile blinding and warm.
“What makes that special though? Why did you choose that and not like, a meme photo of me, you have lots of that, I know”, and Yoongi, he’s not complaining, just plainly curious.
The younger just snorts at that and turns to his side so he’s facing Yoongi once again. Yoongi does the same, because this is Hoseok, and he will always be magnetized by him. Always be pulled in by his glow, his warmth, him. He hates and loves it at the same time.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to be special hyung. It’s a candid photo of you taken by me, and you said that I’m your personal photographer, right? I’m just doing my job, and like that, that makes it special right? Seems special enough for me” Hoseok finishes with a proud air in his voice and Yoongi wants to laugh at that. And also maybe kiss Hoseok’s nose that is this close to his.
He vaguely remembers that time where they were answering what seems like a series of questions that are weird enough for the fans. Their fans are always inclined to take a liking to weird, funny stuffs. Like BTS. Them. There was a question, asking who’s their photographer among the members. He had quickly written “J-hope” back then, because it’s true. Hoseok has always been the one who took his photos, be it candidly or when asked. Yoongi’s got self-confidence issues, with his body and physique and face, and just him overall. But asking Hoseok to take a photo of him when he deems a good background erases that. Hoseok just simply takes the phone, directs the camera at Yoongi, tells him to face this way and that way, to move his hands out of the way, or to fix the collar of his top. He knows Yoongi’s good angles by now. Yoongi can’t ask for more from him.
“Yeah, that makes it special I guess” and he smiles, all gummy, because it’s special, it really is. He saw Hoseok breathe a big intake of air before smiling all the same, too big and too warm, yet still soft. And fond. Soft and fond. For Yoongi, he’s smiling like that for Yoongi.
So they lay like that, Yoongi and Hoseok, Hoseok and Yoongi, staring into the constellation embedded in each other’s eyes, smiles a little too soft, a little private, a little bit like something just meant for each other. Yoongi hazily thinks that he can fall asleep right now, basking in Hoseok’s warmth, by his side, that image of him smiling at him something that he would carry and treasure up to his dream. He’s done that before, both sleeping with Hoseok by his side, and sleeping with Hoseok in his mind. He’s done that before, a lot of times. Most of the time.
And then suddenly the spell that seemed to wrap them breaks, the little zone where they fell in just a while ago now gone, as Hoseok’s alarm went off. Hoseok quickly grabs his phone and stop the alarm with panicking fingers.
“Why did you set an alarm for ass o’ clock in th-“
Whatever Yoongi’s about to say, it gets cut off as Hoseok pulls him into a tight hug, his arms on both sides of Yoongi’s torso, locking in his back, as the younger lays almost completely on top of him. Hoseok got his head in Yoongi’s chest, and Yoongi wills his heart to calm down, calm down, fuck, because Hoseok is hugging him, and it’s too warm, too good, too intimate. “Happy birthday Yoongi hyung”, he hears Hoseok whisper, and it’s too small, his voice is, as if he’ll break if he had said it any louder. Yoongi slowly lifts his arms and encages Hoseok, one going to the smooth plane of Hoseok’s back and the other heading straight to his hair, carding and playing with the short brown strands. They both let out a contented sigh.
This, this. With Yoongi comfortable in his bed, Hoseok in his arms, them saying nothing, just basking in each other’s presence, reeling from the radiating warmth between them. It feels right for Yoongi, feels so right, like this is his fate. To be with Hoseok like this, for their hearts to be synchronized like this. Yoongi is so, so content in this very moment, and he can’t help it when his body moves on its own and placed a small, soft peck on Hoseok’s crown. Hoseok looks up at that, stares at Yoongi’s eyes, and he giggles, fucking giggles, enough to make Yoongi’s breath to get caught in his lungs.
Hoseok, from his position, removes one hand under Yoongi, phone in his hand that apparently got trapped on Yoongi’s back. Using one hand, Hoseok types something on his phone. Yoongi is curious as to what that is, but then Hoseok is already finished before Yoongi can ask. He discards his phone in his side on the bed, a little far, and then he’s back looking up at Yoongi, chin digging in his chest but Yoongi doesn’t complain, can never, not when Hoseok is looking at him like this, with shining eyes and a bright smile like Yoongi is the answer for all the wonders of the world.
“Hyung look at your phone, like, right now”. Hoseok demands.
Yoongi quickly, yet begrudgingly, stops carding through Hoseok’s hair to get his phone placed on top of the bedside drawer. He opened it, and found multiple notifications, all birthday greetings. As much as he doesn’t care for his birthday now at this stage of life, he’s still grateful to people who celebrates his special day, be it with him or for him. He scans them and found Hoseok’s kakaotalk message just around the top, the newest ones, and he slides it to the right to open it.
From: Hoseokie
Hbd hyung !!!!!!
A birthday wish. With six fucking exclamation marks. Accompanied by a cute sticker. Even when they’re already here, together physically, Hoseok laying on top of him, expectant smile on his face.
Yoongi is in love. He knows that by now. Knows it deeply, in his mind, his heart, his soul. Yoongi is in love with Hoseok. His heart swells, as he stares at Hoseok’s message for a tad of time. Pulling it together, his hand scramble to type a response, it’s just one word, but it took so much time for him to send it, a simple thanks! back to Hoseok four minutes later, sent with shaking hands and evenly shaking heart.
Hoseok grabs his phone and reads his response, laughs at that, voice breathy and light. He rolls off Yoongi and returned to his previous position; his side glued to Yoongi’s and the blond haired man tried hard to contain the pout threatening to break out because of that. He was so comfortable, so warm, with Hoseok laying in his chest. He misses him already, even when he’s still by his side. He has a pathetic case of dumbly-whipped-for-hoseok sickness and it’s dumb. He’s dumb. Hoseok’s beautiful face is dumb. Sigh.
Now laying side by side on their back, Yoongi sees Hoseok take a sceenshot of their conversation in kakaotalk. Crops it. Saves it on his gallery. Opens twitter. Open his drafts, taps on the most recently made one, his birthday greeting for Yoongi. He adds the screenshot. But he didn’t post the tweet just yet. Instead he looks at Yoongi, eyes widening and lips open to exclaim a small ah shit.
“Hyung hyung hyung hyung. Hyung! I forgot!” the younger is now discarding his phone somewhere on the bed again, before sitting upright, the sheets shifting under him, legs crossed and hands clasped together by his chest.
What Hoseok could have forgotten is lost in Yoongi’s mind, because this is Hoseok, so unpredictable and unreadable most of the time, so Yoongi just humors him, follows him and sits upright too. Hoseok didn’t order him to but he’s already crossing his legs, making himself comfortable, because he’s like that. To Hoseok. Ready to give him whatever he wants, whenever, even without Hoseok asking, he’s always ready to give, give, give. Hoseok can ask for a star in the sky and you better believe Yoongi will do everything he can, even sell his soul to a demon, just to make sure Hoseok gets what he wants. His heart works that way. For Hoseok and for him only.
Hoseok shuffles a little bit closer to him, until both their knees are almost touching. Almost. Yoongi craves the contact.
The younger clears his throat, and Yoongi is puzzled, because really, what on Earth could have Hoseok forgotten, don’t tell him it’s a fucking cake ‘cause he will not let Hoseok go outside at this hour but then he’s singing, Hoseok is singing and- oh.
Oh.
Hoseok is singing to him, for him, in that low, soothing voice of his.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
To my beloved dear Yoongi hyung,
Happy birthday to you.
A birthday song, a fucking birthday song, because it’s March 9, his birthday, and Hoseok is here, to celebrate that with him, even though he has been the one who should be the most tired today. Hoseok, with warm eyes, and warm laugh, and warm heart. Hoseok, who’s singing the birthday song for him now, swaying as he goes, stars twinkling in his eyes as he does so.
Yoongi’s eyes are glassy and Hoseok became a disoriented blur, like he’s underwater. He doesn’t even feel the tears dropping until Hoseok had worryingly wiped them for him. And he’s such a great person, a great kid back then, and an even greater man now, with worry painted all over his face, his features, asking Yoongi what’s wrong hyung, are you okay? He’s so, so in love with Hoseok, his sun, his battery, his Seokseok, and it’s not overwhelming. No, it will never be. It’s just that he’s so happy, and content, so he tries to muster his best smile, one that is gummy, and it’s genuine, truly genuine, because he’s happy and Hoseok is here and he loves him and Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok.
Through his tears and raging heart he sees Hoseok open his arms, wide and inviting, so he jumps into it, lets himself be caged by Hoseok’s arms, feels Hoseok’s pounding heart in his chest, weird, because Yoongi’s heart is thundering like that too. Yoongi is still crying, but it’s more contained now, sniffling a little, cheeks stained. He barely heard Hoseok, almost missed it, whisper a small happy birthday hyung, before scooping his head up, and placing a careful, soft kiss on his forehead. Yoongi almost broke down right then and there, so instead of allowing himself to cry more, he just buries his head in Hoseok’s neck, nuzzles into it.
He hears Hoseok hum, and then he’s maneuvering both of them into the bed, laying Yoongi first and situating a pillow properly below his head.
Hoseok quickly taps on his phone, screen still idle, posting the tweet draft that he had made before. It’s 12:21 now, way past the 12:00 mark, but it’s okay. He’s with Yoongi. Always will be.
He turns to Yoongi, now, with his cheeks still tear-stained, and eyes a little puffy and red, nervously biting on his lips. He doesn’t know what is there to be nervous of, so he places his phone under the other pillow, and positions his self by Yoongi’s side.
Yoongi turns to his side facing Hoseok, and he. He smiled. Brightly. Hoseok returned the smile, and it’s warm, always will be warm, because that’s Hoseok, his sunshine. Like that, they slot their selves into each other’s arms, arms that holds each other protectively, ankles intertwined, Hoseok’s head pressed against Yoongi’s collarbones.
Hoseok had fallen asleep quickly, with Yoongi carding his fingers through his hair, whispering a good night Seok through the brown locks in his hand. Like that, with Hoseok against him, they fit. They fit so perfectly that it scares Yoongi, and also lights a spark of hope within him that maybe, maybe, they’re both a puzzle. A puzzle made of each other, pieces that complete each other. Two puzzle pieces that fit. Two puzzle pieces that when combined, will produce a beautiful warmth and glow and love.
Sleep tugs heavily on Yoongi’s eyelids, but as much as he would love to succumb to its calls, he first closes his eyes, and made his birthday wish.
His wish is nothing special, nothing extraordinary, just for him and the ones he loves to stay healthy, for their careers to stay strong, for a good year. And lastly, he wishes for a sun, his sun, his certain sun, to stay warm and stay bright. To stay with him.
That night, Yoongi dreams of the said sun, with a warm smile and bright eyes, and wakes up to the same sun by his side, still with a warm smile and bright eyes. And he’s beautiful.