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yoongi rings the doorbell, hand pressed to his cheek. hoseok rips the door open, one eye almost shut with his hair a drowsy mess.
“what do you want?”
yoongi removes the hand from his cheek. hoseok squints both eyes for a moment before they widen dramatically.
“hyung, what the fuck happened to your cheek?”
hoseok drags him inside with a hand around his wrist, “holy shit is that a handprint?”
“no.” yoongi grumbles, lightly prodding the red handprint embedded on his cheek.
hoseok peers closely, “that is a handprint! who slapped you, what the fuck hyung it’s like,” hoseok pauses to pull his phone out of his sweatpants’ pockets, “8 am.”
yoongi purses his lips and wonders whether the ridicule is worth it. he needs the advice though.
“jeongguk slapped me.”
hoseok splutters, fumbling with his phone because he almost drops it out of shock. yoongi ignores the red creeping up his neck.
“i’m sorry. i think i heard you wrong.” hoseok grabs him by the shoulder and spins them face to face, “did you say jeongguk? like jeon jeongguk, your boyfriend jeongguk, jeongguk who cries watching bambi and maleficent, almost had a break down when he accidentally stepped on holly’s foot even though it was your fault? that jeongguk?”
“do we know any other jeongguk.” yoongi says dryly.
hoseok stares at him for a long pregnant pause, absolutely bewildered. then he shifts to resignation and annoyance, removing his hands from yoongi’s shoulder to grip him by the collar of his black t-shirt.
“what did you fuck up now.”
yoongi glares at him in incredulity, “why are you assuming it’s me.”
hoseok gives him a pointed look, “jeongguk slapped you . of course it’s you, he’s a sweetheart.”
“he’s a fucking devil, you guys are just blind.” yoongi gripes, shaking off hoseok’s hands on his shirt.
“that means you’re dating a devil, dude.”
yoongi smirks crookedly at him, “who said that was a bad thing. means he’s really sadistic in bed. you know, he does this thing where he rides my dick for like an ho—mmph, mmph.”
hoseok screeches, hand clapped over his mouth, “not in my christian household!”
yoongi licks his palm, snickering softly. his cheek smarts and the humor drains a little.
“what do i do, hobi?”
hoseok pinches his red cheek and drags him down to the couch, ignoring his whines about the pain, “well, what did you do? why’d your boyfriend slap you?”
“i don’t know.” yoongi pouts, sprawling on the couch.
“okay, seems like you don’t need my help then, i’ll be going back to my room now to sleep, you’re free to crash here if yo—”
yoongi yanks him back down, “okay, fine, i’ll spill.”
hoseok drops onto the cushion, pulling yoongi into him. he pats yoongi’s head like he’s a cat, ruffling his rarely seen black hair. yoongi bats at his hand.
“so,” hoseok ventures.
“so,” yoongi echoes, looking off to the side.
“i kind of fucked up.” yoongi admits bluntly. hoseok doesn’t move just blinks at him in a ‘no shit’ kind of way,
“i, um, i kept ditching our dates recently, making up excuses and what not—”
“by recently you mean—?” hoseok interrupts. yoongi winces.
“like? three, four months? maybe?” hoseok glares at him, flicking his forehead, “you better have a good reason, hyung, or i will slap you.”
“my parents called me, and then a week later that ex called me.” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at hoseok.
“oh,” hoseok softens, rubbing the spot he flicked, “hyung, you should’ve told one of us.”
“yeah, well, hindsight is twenty twenty. anyway, that happened and my head got too loud. you know how i’ve told you before that all these negative thoughts kind of just spiral so loud in my head until even being in the same room as another person feels painful.”
hoseok nods understandingly. yoongi has talked about this endlessly with him and namjoon over the twelve years of knowing each other. it’s a part of him that he loathes but unfortunately a part he must deal with responsibly. unlike what he just did for these last four months.
“so i, and believe me when i say i regret this with my whole fucking heart, i, uh, kept making excuses to jeongguk and then like hiding away in my apartment or your apartment or the studio, just kind of kept avoiding him. and the worst part was—,”
yoongi grimaces. self-reproach fills his lungs, a tidal wave of it crashing over him. hoseok squeezes his arm reassuringly, a steady anchor point of comfort at his side.
“the worst part was that i was literally lying to him. about why i couldn’t make our dates, or why i couldn’t see him. like i was just straight up lying through my teeth. then yesterday, he messages me if we could get dinner together and do something and i turned him down again because my mother was texting me and crashed at namjoon’s place. and it’s not like i told anybody this, right? i didn’t tell any of the guys, hey i’m avoiding jeongguk, and jeongguk i guess never mentioned me ditching him for like three months straight.”
hoseok makes a noise because yoongi’s been crashing at his house for the past three months in increasing frequency, but now he’s figured out the reason. if hoseok had known any sooner he would’ve kicked yoongi’s ass which is exactly why yoongi didn’t tell anyone.
“but the thing is, my excuse was that i’d be about two hours out at a meeting with a client and that i wouldn’t be back until mid-afternoon today. instead, i slept at joon’s place and told him not to tell anyone i was there. which he didn’t. but, um, he was over at jin’s place cause they went out drinking last night and he texted me last night that there might be a delivery in the morning. so when the doorbell rang this morning i opened the door without looking. assuming it was the delivery guy. turns out, jeongguk was sad that i wasn’t spending any time with him and he came over, unannounced, to joon’s place to see if they could go running together.”
hoseok winces, covering his face as if he is witnessing the catastrophe that was this morning’s incident first hand. yoongi nods, picking at the bottom of his shirt in a display of nerves.
“yup. jeongguk took one look at me and slapped me hard across the face. i mean, i deserve it—”
“yeah, you fucking do.” hoseok snorts with an edge of anger, but he squeezes yoongi’s bicep to show him that he’s still there.
“i hurt him.” yoongi sighs.
“you think so?” hoseok drawls sarcastically. he brings his right leg up to rest it on the couch, “hyung. i’m going to be absolutely honest. i’m mad at you.”
yoongi knew that. he would be surprised if hoseok wasn’t.
he say as much, “yeah, i figured.”
“but also,” hoseok groans and rubs his face, “you’re my dumbass friend so i feel obligated to help you.”
belatedly he tacks on, “i’m still mad at you.”
yoongi huffs out a laugh, “yes, we covered that not even a second ago.”
hoseok glares, tweaking his nose, “don’t get mouthy with me. i just want you to be aware that i am helping you only because you’re a useless bag of bones and if i made you do this by yourself jeongguk might dump your ass before you get around to fixing this fuck up properly.”
“the confidence,” yoongi says dryly, “is inspiring.”
“there is literally no confidence to speak of here. be glad i’m not calling seokjin hyung or jimin-ah or else your ass would be toast and then you won’t be able to make it up to jeongguk cause i’ll be too busy tossing your dead body in bits and pieces into the ocean to cover up the murder.”
yoongi swallows roughly, “why is that so detailed. it’s 8 am.”
“i’ve had a plan for covering up your murder in case jimin snaps for a long time now, that’s just the overview.” hoseok waves his hand as if to dismiss his confusion, wandering off to the kitchen for probably some coffee.
yoongi blinks and parts his mouth but he’s inexplicably unable to form a coherent sentence. he settles for a simple, “what.”
“don’t worry about it,” hoseok calls over his shoulder, “you want some coffee?”
“i— sure?” yoongi frowns, following after hoseok and jamming his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. after this whole situation is figured out yoongi is going to have a talk with hoseok about aiding with murder. that is if he isn’t murdered before then. seokjin hyung might. and if jimin catches wind of what he did— well, yoongi’s prospects don’t look too good.
hoseok passes him a steaming cup. yoongi settles on the bar stool and thanks him quietly, reflecting quietly on what he should’ve done instead of the nonsense he put jeongguk through. a little late, since jeongguk’s hurt, but in his mind at least he’s making it a point to learn from his bullshit in case this happens again.
he takes a sip of the coffee after blowing on it. promptly spits it back the fuck out.
“ hoseok! ” yoongi growls, wiping at his mouth.
hoseok is snickering, taking a sip of his own drink.
“fuck you.” yoongi sneers a little petulantly, eyeing his cup with distaste. the bastard put salt instead of sugar.
“you just wasted perfectly good coffee.”
“worth it.” hoseok snickers into his cup, “i’m mad at you.”
“oh for fuck’s sake— be mad at me later, after i apologize to jeongguk.”
“alright, fine. but you deserved that.”
yeah, he kind of does. but yoongi can’t find it in himself to be gracious about it. there’s this thought he’s been desperately tamping down that has managed to free itself and take over his mind.
what if jeongguk breaks up with him?
hoseok must notice that he’s not holding himself together as well as he’s projecting because he sobers up.
“alright, time to be serious then.”
the first step according to hoseok should be to, “admit you fucked up.” yoongi can do that. he has no problem admitting he was in the wrong. the actual problem was that jeongguk had slammed the door on his face when he’d shown up at his apartment to apologize.
yoongi had sent him a text message after. his number hadn’t been blocked, somewhat surprising, but jeongguk hadn’t read it either. he’d left a call, sent an email, even rounded up hoseok to go as a human messenger. every one of them was rejected.
yoongi sighs, ruffling his hair and kneels down in the back of his closet to pull out the red box he keeps full of trinkets and photos and small things that he considers his jeongguk collection. things that yoongi loves about jeongguk, things that remind him how much he loves jeongguk, things that are jeongguk’s.
there’s so many polaroids and printed photos in it, that yoongi has to dump them out to find what he’s looking for. a single cd case with the sharpie written words ‘for jeongguk’ printed neatly on it. the one he’d made when he’d found out jeongguk still owned and adored his cd player. he’d burned songs on there for their one year and six months anniversary, a declaration of love in the best way he knew how; music.
flipping it in his hands contemplatively, yoongi eyes the external cd drive sitting in a clear container full of electronic equipment he doesn’t use regularly.
music.
he should’ve realized it sooner.
with a small struggle, yoongi roots through the container to fish out the drive. he pauses in placing the photos back inside his jeongguk box, hesitating for a moment before he snatches up the little stationery kit nestled at the bottom with a couple of letters on top. with a grunt he lifts up the box and tucks it away in the corner. yeah, so it’s a little big. sue him.
yoongi drops his findings on his desk with a thud, pulling out his smaller laptop that he uses for more casual things; youtube, movies, emails, porn. well not as much porn anymore. not for these last three years.
hooking up the cd drive takes little time and in minutes he has the playlist of songs he burned pulled up in the media player, humming along to them under his breath.
quietly, speaking to his phone almost privately as if someone will hear, yoongi records an audio file in his phone. not an apology. jeongguk deserves that in person. but a— precursor. so to say. an offering. an explanation as to why jeongguk should give him the time of day to apologize. it’s easy work to export it to his computer. he adds a couple more songs, apology songs, mournful songs to the beginning of the list, right after his audio bite.
bites down on his lip, conflicted and adds sorry by justin bieber to the list because he knows jeongguk will smile at it since it’s an absolute blow to yoongi’s pride. if there is ever a doubt that yoongi loves jeongguk, him voluntarily adding justin beaver to one of his carefully cultivated, exquisitely perfect music lists would rid it immediately.
yoongi taps his fingers against the trackpad of the laptop and ponders his choices. it hits him suddenly. afterglow. by taylor swift. he adds it quickly, very first to play on the cd. jeongguk adores taylor swift. yoongi can’t fault him, the woman is an amazing artist. but yoongi always makes fun of his taste for being mainstream (mainstream isn’t necessarily bad but jeongguk lives by the top 50 and it makes yoongi shrivel a little on the inside) so acknowledging his boyfriend’s tastes in a playlist of artists jeongguk’s only been introduced to through yoongi— well that can only get him a little farther in his mission.
he finishes with the cd, slipping it back in it’s case and pulling out a new one. burns the songs on quickly and plucks it out of the drive carefully. finds a new cd case to fit it into, shutting it with a snap of plastic.
and then he turns to the stationary set. there’s envelopes and fine paper, calligraphy pens, a stamp kit. everything he’ll need then. jeongguk has an affinity for being an old soul. loves vinyl and cd players, cassette tapes and vcrs, film cameras and polaroids. his yellow polaroid sx-70 is settled like a prized award in his living room display, his simple silver and brown one worn and well-used.
it’s funny that his music taste is so in tune with the new and upcoming.
taehyung and jeongguk exchange letters quite a lot. something about being in that habit that they both love. yoongi sits down to write. he pulls out his notebook, a beautiful custom-made leather bound thing that jeongguk had introduced to him. one side lined for writing the other side fitted with manuscript paper for musical notation. the cover is an intricate red and black cherry blossom painting jeongguk had done on the white leather.
he flips to a section with a small sticky note poking out the top simply labelled with euphoria. it’s lyrics yoongi has been working on for months now, even during this whole clusterfuck of a situation he put both of them through.
he copies them down onto the letter paper, a gorgeous sunflower drawing marking the corners of the top left and bottom right. jeongguk will know what they are. jeongguk understands him well enough to realize the importance of these lyrics. despite how anxious he is, to the point his hands are sweaty and shaky, yoongi smiles down at the paper fondly.
when yoongi had finally finished writing serendipity about a year and two months into their relationship and indulged jeongguk’s whining to see the lyrics, jeongguk had read it over once before simply turning to him and saying, “i love you too.”
that’s when yoongi knew. jeongguk was it for him. because jeongguk is someone who understands his music in ways he sometimes struggles to decipher himself. can take one look at his lyrics or melodies and know in a heartbeat what yoongi wants to say.
he folds the paper neatly and slips it inside the envelope, nearly putting it to his tongue to lick it shut before realizing there’s no wax strip. fuck.
he looks down at the wax stamp kit.
fuck.
he’s seen jeongguk do it before.
but he definitely does not know how to do it himself. obviously he could just use some of the pretty tape from the dispenser jeongguk planted on his desk one day and threatened him not to remove on pain of death. his boyfriend is totally a walking pinterest board.
but if he’s doing this, yoongi might as well go the full mile. so he sighs internally and opens his computer again to bring up a quick tutorial.
skipping the intro, full of sponsored shit and “if you like the content i create please follow me to see more”, yoongi watches warily as a glue gun is introduced. he looks down at his wax package to check the instructions. yeah, he needs a glue gun.
he has one somewhere, courtesy of his pinterest boyfriend. yoongi finds it in the bathroom after nearly turning the house upside down. he doesn’t want to know. he’s never even used the damn thing.
the woman says, “prepare our workspace” and starts pouring ice into a bowl and that’s when yoongi knows he’s too deep into this shit. the things he does for jeongguk.
he gathers his materials; a glue gun, the stamp, the wax, a bowl of ice, a towel, and a piece of parchment paper. he notes with some sort of bittersweetness that every single material except for the towel and bowl is in his house because of jeongguk.
it’s quite easy to do actually. yoongi kind of finds that he almost wants to write letters just to make the stamp. there’s something satisfying about watching the cold stamp press into the pool of wax and form a cute bunny rabbit surrounded by flowers. the soft petal color stamp is easy to affix to the envelope with the double sided sticky tape circles that came with the set, and yoongi holds it out in front of him to admire his work. it’s quite extravagant if he does say so himself. jeongguk worthy.
become a pinterest boyfriend, check.
sadly, however, this was the easy part.
the hard part is convincing taehyung not to kill him when yoongi tells him what he did and instead make him pay jeongguk a visit with the letter and cd in tow. jeongguk will listen to taehyung. yoongi knows this. he would’ve went with taehyung as his first attempt at a human messenger but there’s a 50% chance he might die before he can turn taehyung towards his mission.
“did jeongguk already slap you?”
“yes.”
“fine, then i won’t. for now.”
yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat. the chair is a comfortable one, plushy and pillowed.
“give me the things.”
“just like that?”
taehyung arches an eyebrow. it rises into his fringe of blue hair, “are you complaining?”
“no, just— um, just, just surprised. that’s all.”
“it’s—oooh pretty—not that surprising.”
“mm.”
“hyung?”
“huh? yeah?”
“are you really surprised?”
“ah no.”
taehyung frowns. his shoulders and face fall. he looks sad.
“you don’t believe me.”
“let’s not pretend like that was believable, hyung. tell me, why is it so surprising?”
“don’t know.”
he does. tae knows he does. he shrugs anyways.
“you messed up, hyung. and you hurt jeongguk-ah. but you’re still a good person.”
taehyung ducks to catch his eyes. yoongi struggles to pretend that those words didn’t sweep the rug from under his feet. he feels caught off guard. how does taehyung know so easily what he’s thinking?
“you’ll fix it right?”
“yeah.”
“and you love him?”
“of course.”
“okay.”
a nod.
“then that’s all that matters.”
two hours later, taehyung comes back, parting his messy fringe carefully over his eyebrows.
“ggukie said he wants you to come over,” taehyung tells him imperiously, hands on his hips.
yoongi rises to leave but pauses in front of taehyung. he looks down at his shoes and sucks in a deep breath, bracing himself. feels his lungs burn with the oxygen he hasn’t been giving it enough of.
“what else did he say?”
taehyung gives him a look, slightly impressed, slightly cautious. yoongi doesn’t think he deserves such emotions.
“i’m not sure i should say,” taehyung is honest at least. he looks worried. yoongi doesn’t think he deserves that either.
“taehyung.”
taehyung narrows his eyes but jerks his head to the side in reluctant acceptance.
“he said ‘tell him to come over. that is, if he’s not lying about it again. who knows, maybe there’s a dinner party across town he can’t miss.’”
this, yoongi deserves. taehyung watches him go with large, doleful eyes.
yoongi watches jeongguk warily as he leans against the doorway to his apartment.
“what, no dinner party?”
yoongi twists his mouth. he feels a sudden urge to cry. that’s humiliating. his heart feels like it’s going to give out in his chest from pure anxiety. he hasn’t seen his therapist in two weeks. he cancelled the appointment despite her concerns. yoongi is regretting that majorly now.
“no.” he answers softly. he doesn’t think he can speak any louder. his lungs seem so heavy.
something flickers there and gone in jeongguk’s eyes. he straightens a little, arms loosening against his chest. yoongi would say it looks like worry but his boyfriend is pissed at him. why would he be worried?
“when you filled out that boyfriend application form i sent you jokingly three years ago, you forgot to mention ‘liar’ on there.”
ouch. that one hurts a little more. yoongi bites his lips and continues staring at jeongguk’s elbow, the black ink of his tattoos stark against his pale skin, milky white now that it’s winter. yoongi jokingly calls him a changeling because of the way he seems to adapt to every season like a fairy. air feels like it’s barely making it to his lungs. yoongi furrows his eyebrows and tries to focus on his breathing.
“can you look at me?” jeongguk asks angrily, “you’re ashamed now ? after making me look like a fool for how many months?”
“but you came running the moment i caught you out. what? scared?”
yoongi snaps his eyes up. jeongguk had said it sarcastically but—
“afraid you’re going to lose me now that i’ve found you’ve been treating me like an idiot for four months. afraid i’m going to break up with you for treating me like i’m expendable?”
yoongi can’t help it. he crumbles. he marvels at jeongguk’s ability to aim exactly for where it hurts without even knowing. he is scared. he’s been dying on the inside for two weeks. to his horror, tears abruptly spring to his eyes and spill over with no warning and he makes a pathetic noise, twisting to the side and burrowing into the hood of his shirt to hide his face.
“hyung?” jeongguk’s voice is alarmed but yoongi waves him off.
“oh, hyung, no .”
jeongguk’s voice goes soft, with sadness and disbelief. he’s tugging yoongi towards him with a hand on his bicep.
“no, hyung , how—?” he doesn’t finish his sentence, ushering yoongi inside and seating him on his couch. jeongguk kneels in front of yoongi, fighting his shaking hands away from his face to cup them with his own tatted ones, peering up at him with regret and concern.
“i’m sorry,” yoongi croaks, wiping at his tears. jeongguk nods before his own face creases and tears drip down his cheeks.
yoongi lurches in alarm. “don’t cry, i’m sorry , please please please , i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”
yoongi hovers his hands frantically over jeongguk’s face, thumbing away tears and stroking his hair away from his face, fingers scratching over his scalp in the way jeongguk adores.
jeongguk shakes his head and sniffles, “i’m not crying ‘cause of what you did, i’m crying because you’re crying.”
yoongi’s hands freeze.
“seeing you sad, hyung,” jeongguk presses his face to yoongi’s thigh, sucking in a watery breath, “seeing you in pain hurts me, hyung. more than anything. even more than you hurting me. because i love you.”
yoongi has to tug the neck of his hoodie up to cover his entire face while he chokes down the miserable noise that accompanies a fresh wave of tears. he feels so undeserving of such a kind-hearted person.
“you hurt me so badly,” jeongguk sobs into his thigh, wetting his sweatpants. he rubs his face against it, taking one hand from yoongi’s knees to scrub his eyes, “but seeing you hurt pains me more . how could you seriously consider that i would ever break up with you? i can’t live without you, hyung, it feels like i can’t even breathe without you. don’t you get how much i love you?”
“ jeongguk-ah .” yoongi utters, winded.
“i love you!” jeongguk nearly screams at him, “so why do you keep pushing me away?”
his round nose is red and he’s pink all over. he’s so pretty when he cries. yoongi shakes his head. he can’t even form the words to explain it.
“why do you keep pushing me away,” jeongguk repeats weakly, his shoulders trembling, his whole body trembling.
jeongguk deserves an answer to that at least. yoongi opens his mouth to answer, “because—”
“don’t.”
his boyfriend claps a hand over his mouth, shutting him up. yoongi watches him with narrowed red eyes, sniffing every other second. jeongguk watches him back, lips pressed together in a thin wavering line. he swallows roughly, adams' apple bobbing faintly along the white lines of his throat, dragging the back of his hand over the sticky tracks on his face.
“you’re infuriating you know that, hyung?”
yoongi blinks, let’s his eyelids rest shut longer and a cold tear trails down the side of his face.
“stupid hyung,” jeongguk mutters. pushes up to his knees with a sudden urgency, ripping his hand away from yoongi’s mouth to cup his face instead. yoongi starts, inhaling quick and sharp.
jeongguk gives him no time to brace, instead molding their lips together with a broken whimper. yoongi falters from shock momentarily, before kissing back eagerly. his hands hover around jeongguk’s face unsure of whether or not he’s allowed to touch.
it’s controlling. the younger doesn’t give him a moment to breathe, parting his lips forcefully, licking up into his mouth. their lips taste like tears and jeongguk’s organic vanilla lip balm that he smears on in ridiculous amounts. yoongi swears his lips have been more moisturized since he started dating jeongguk.
“mine.” jeongguk growls into his mouth, biting hard on his bottom lip. yoongi winces at the pain, bearing it gracefully. he deserves it. he deserves a lot of things lately, none of them good. but apparently jeongguk is one of those things and— and jeongguk is good. jeongguk is beyond good. jeongguk is everything yoongi has ever wanted. can he truly have that? does he deserve that?
“don’t deserve you.” yoongi whispers into jeongguk’s mouth, syllables muffled around jeongguk’s tongue. his boyfriend presses him into the couch, yoongi curving over the cushioned back of it because jeongguk rises up to his feet and crowds over him.
jeongguk holds him there with a hand lightly pressed to his throat. yoongi swallows roughly and feels the warm hand like a brand.
“no.” jeongguk says. “you don’t.”
well. okay.
“because that’s not how it works.” jeongguk adds on much belatedly. yoongi breathes again, lungs easing as the hurt fades.
“no one— people don’t deserve each other, hyung,” jeongguk says in agitation, fingers clamping a little tight against yoongi’s throat, “that’s not how it, fucking works. that’s not how it works. that’s actually probably unhealthy or something, acting like you do or don’t deserve someone because people deserve things and people aren’t things. you aren’t a thing, i’m not a thing. we can make that decision for ourselves, whether or not we want to be with someone.”
“okay.” yoongi says easily. “i’m sorry.”
“i listened to the cd.” jeongguk says instead of acknowledging his apology verbally.
“afterglow, you’ve always wanted to know this but that’s the song i was listening to when you first kissed me.”
“coincidence.” yoongi whispers and jeongguk watches his throat, eyes unfocused and probably feeling the way yoongi’s neck trembles and vibrates under his palm.
“no.” jeongguk says quietly after poignant silence, after his pointer finger slips up behind yoongi’s ear to thumb the small tiger lily hidden there that yoongi had gotten as a surprise for jeongguk’s birthday two years ago even though he hates needles.
(i dare you to love me. )
“fate.”