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It’s past morning when Hoseok wakes, rumpled and dishevelled, half-hanging off his bunk bed and clutching his blanket for dear life. Next to him Taehyung snuffles into his neck and clings tighter, a veritable octopus when he’s asleep, and Hoseok wonders when exactly Taehyung had climbed into his bunk to cuddle.
It’s okay though. Hoseok is familiar with Taehyung just wanting hugs.
He wraps his arms around the younger boy and cuddles back, blowing a strand of caramel brown hair out of Taehyung’s face. Taehyung shifts irritably at the warm air ghosting over his cheek, eyes fluttering open. He peers at Hoseok with only half a head’s worth of comprehension, groggily getting his senses back together. “Hyung?”
“Taetae,” Hoseok coos, and okay, even if Taehyung is the renowned cuddler in their band, Hoseok definitely adores his fair share of hugs. “Good morning.”
Taehyung sighs softly and snuggles closer, tucking his head under Hoseok’s chin. “Mornin’,” he mutters, but it’s muffled into the skin of Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok sneezes as a lock of Taehyung’s fluffy hair tickles his nose.
The door to the sleeping compartment of their bus bangs open, and Hosoek hears a sardonic voice float over, “If you two love-birds are done, breakfast’s been ready over three hours ago.”
Yoongi, probably grumpy that he hadn’t taken the chance to hibernate. Hoseok laughs and presses the sound into Taehyung’s hair, kissing the top of his head. Taehyung shifts and mumbles something sleepily, content.
They aren’t love-birds, and they definitely aren’t in love—Taehyung likes hugs and Hoseok likes giving them. It’s a good relationship. Yoongi will never understand.
(Yoongi does understand passion in a biting kiss, leaving marks all over Hoseok’s collarbones, sharp brands in their own way; he understands fingers pressing bruises over Hoseok’s hips, the short gasps and breaths that Hoseok pours into his mouth, desperate nails raking over his back as he thrusts harder and goes deeper and Hoseok crumbles beneath him, shaking apart with a single kiss.)
“Hyung,” Taehyung murmurs, and Hoseok returns his attention to the younger boy in his arms, untangling a hand to sift his fingers through Taehyung’s soft hair gently. “Hyung, let’s stay.”
Hoseok laughs again. Taehyung turns into a complete child when he gets cuddles, and it’s beyond Hoseok’s ability to resist him. “Okay,” he whispers back, grinning as Taehyung lifts his head and his eyes sparkle. “Okay, we’ll stay.”
They stay.
--
Hoseok and Taehyung end up one hour late to soundcheck, and Namjoon berates them for well over five minutes. Hoseok just loops an easy arm around Taehyung’s waist, dragging him in, leaning on him for support as he counts the seconds that Namjoon goes without breathing. They get shuffled to hair and make-up after that, and from then on Hoseok can’t breathe without inhaling the foggy, cloying scent of hair-spray. He probably can’t touch his hair without being cut by the sharp edges.
Jimin stumbles over to him halfway through make-up, when Hoseok can barely see past foundation being dabbed onto his cheeks. “Hyung,” he calls, and Hoseok breaks into a smile when he feels Jimin’s arms looped around his neck affectionately, the younger boy nestling his chin onto Hoseok’s shoulder. “You were so late today,” Jimin says, a touch reproachful. “Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung were getting so mad.”
Hoseok smiles at him, because it’s impossible to be annoyed at Jimin, not when he’s an actual orange-haired, bright, bubbly angel. “Sometimes it’s a lie-down day,” he says. “Sometimes you just want to lie down, and cuddle, and sleep. Taehyung understands.”
“Sleep,” Jimin ponders, and his embrace tightens. He drops his voice into a secretive whisper. “Did you and Taehyung—”
Hoseok blinks, partly out of surprise and mostly out of instinct now that eyeliner is being applied to his eyes. “Jiminnie?”
“I’m sorry,” Jimin murmurs furtively, and his touch seems apologetic, somehow. “It’s just- Yoongi-hyung looked sad, and I thought- we thought—”
Hoseok has to laugh. The make-up artist glares at him for moving, but somehow holds no grudge against Jimin for remaining attached to Hoseok like a limpet. Figures, really. “No,” he says. “It- it’s something different with Yoongi. Taehyungie knows that too. It’s fine.”
Jimin huffs against the back of his neck. “Does hyung know that?”
This Hoseok has no answer to. He never knows what Yoongi is thinking—they’ve been touring for a year already, and fucking for a good portion of that, and Yoongi still leaves his bunk in the early morning like he’s too embarrassed to stay. Hoseok knows that they’re just friends with benefits—they owe each other nothing—but the lines are getting blurred when Yoongi spends far too long on prep and kisses him like he means it.
“Hyung knows that,” Hoseok says, and he’s not called Yoongi hyung in over a year. It feels stale on his tongue, somehow. “Probably.”
Jimin sighs. It sounds disappointed. Hoseok’s stomach turns at the mere possibility of disappointing someone, but Jimin’s bright smile and cute scrunched-up eyes are back a moment later. “Okay,” he says. “Hey, do you think Jungkook would cuddle with me if I asked him?”
“Not in a million years,” Hoseok laughs, and he pinches Jimin’s cheeks when the younger boy pouts, uncaring of his stylist’s disapproving scowl. “But you’re cute. I’ll cuddle with you anytime.”
--
The show leaves Hoseok dripping with sweat like it always does. He unslings his bass guitar from his neck, handing it off to a tech carefully—it’s been his baby for years, and he’s even rather fond of the old stickers peeling off the surface, like stamps of his past. Jungkook bounds past him and backtracks just enough to pull him into a half-hug. “Great show, hyung!” he laughs, all shining eyes and blinding smile, and there’s glitter caught in his soot-dark hair, the edge of his glossy lips.
Jungkook is stunning without even trying. No wonder Jimin is half in love with him. “You too, maknae,” Hoseok replies, reaching out to ruffle Jungkook’s hair, and Jungkook ducks away with a squawked protest.
Backstage is even more of a chaotic mess, the backstage crew and techs busy with tearing down equipment. Hoseok ducks around their work, trying his best not to get in the way. The make-up is sticky and hot over his face, and all he wants to do is to find a bathroom to wash it all off. He sees Namjoon talking with Seokjin off to the side, probably discussing the show, Namjoon’s hair bleeding pink hair-spray into the collar of his white shirt. Taehyung and Jimin are tangled together on a dusty couch someone had forgotten off to the corner, clinging to each other and letting their adrenaline die down. Jungkook crosses in front of him to reach them, and Hoseok doesn’t have a single doubt that he’ll find their three youngest there later, sprawled over each other in a puppy pile and half a hour from dozing off to sleep.
Yoongi is—
pulling him into an empty corner, away from the hustle and bustle. There are streaks of green over his sweaty forehead, and Hoseok lifts a thumb to wipe away the colour. Yoongi closes his eyes and presses into the touch.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, and his voice is rough like asphalt.
“Hey,” Hoseok whispers back. He can’t find his words.
Yoongi kisses like a storm, and Hoseok can’t think about anything else. He kisses like thunder and lightning and static going under Hoseok’s skin, lighting his nerves on fire, and he tastes like sweat and cherry lip-gloss. It’s like being on stage in front of ten thousand people, the lights too bright and the noise too loud, their music sewing a connection from them and their haphazard instruments and the songs they had penned on a dark night in a worn-out garage, to the crowd of thousands that jump and scream and set the night on fire.
Kissing Yoongi is a mistake, and it’s the only one that Hoseok keeps making, again and again.
They pull away after a long moment, and all Hoseok can hear are the harsh breaths escaping from Yoongi’s pale pink lips. His eyes are dark and unreadable, but his touch, thumb rubbing circles into the skin over his hip, just under the waistband of his jeans, is all intent.
“Let’s go back to the bus,” Yoongi suggests.
Another mistake. Hoseok falls into it.