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THE BEGINNING
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yoongi usually wasn't one to go out on his own, especially to a club. but he feels restless, like he's going to vibrate right out of his skin, and there's only so many times he can sit in bed flicking his lighter, trying to calm the fuck down, before it just isn't enough anymore. he needs... something.
this is usually about the time that he'd try to hook up with one of the others, but yesterday had been a busy day for all of them and yoongi could imagine they were still trying to recoup; at around two in the morning the night before, yoongi had gotten the call from namjoon telling him to come down to the hospital. hoseok had overdosed again.
it'd already been long past visiting hours, but thankfully one of the nurses working the floor that night had worked with hoseok before and recognized the five of them from the last time they had stormed the nurses station petitioning to be allowed in to see their friend. they couldn't stay for long, she'd warned them, but they had at least been able to crowd around his hospital bed to see that he was alive and breathing with their own eyes.
and he had been fine, the fucking bastard, pasting a tired smile on his face when he saw them filing into his room. he'd had his stomach pumped by then, a routine procedure for him at this point, so he had obviously looked sickly and frail as fuck. but still he had kept smiling up at them, despite how he was probably feeling like shit.
but that was yesterday, and just like every other time this shit happened, hoseok would be transferred up to the psych ward the following day. one week minimum stay. and up there, visiting hours or no, only one non-family member at a time was allowed to visit. jimin had demanded to get the first shift, so that's probably where he was now, unable to answer his phone.
and because these things always cost money, yoongi knew that namjoon would have been at work all goddamn day today, making up for the hours he'd missed last night by covering for a few of his coworkers at the gas station. so that was three of them out of the question.
yoongi briefly considers calling tae, but thinks better of it in the end. he wasn't sure if taehyung's phone was even working this week, anyway, and it was always best not to try the family landline. in a similar sense, taehyung was most likely making up for lost time just like namjoon - it was a saturday night, and taehyung's father didn't work at the weekends. he'd taken a risk in leaving the house last night, and had come home to his mother blessedly in one piece. but that wasn't always a certainty, so. that was taehyung out as well, four down.
and jungkook... yoongi had been trying to get in touch with that damn kid all fucking day, from the moment he woke up and turned around in bed to find jungkook gone. no note, nothing to say when he'd be back. so yoongi had called him. and called, and called. but after a few hours of that, his calls had started going straight to voicemail and he gave the fuck up.
and even then, yoongi wonders if he should go out looking for him. it's not a thought that lingers, however, as he remembers the last time he'd spent an entire day stalking down alleys and back roads looking for the little prick, only to come back to their motel room that night and find him passed out on the bathroom floor. beaten to hell and back.
yoongi doesn't like not knowing where jungkook is, isn't ashamed to admit that it scares him, not being able to contact him. but yoongi had barely been able to restrain himself, that last time, when he'd had to slap jungkook awake and the only thing the kid could say to him was, "oh hey, hyung. fell on my face again, a bit, so don't be so harsh with me, okay?"
he had grinned up at yoongi then in almost the same, pathetic way that hoseok had done the night before. except jungkook's teeth had been stained red and yoongi'd had to clench his fists at his sides to keep from punching the kid himself.
so yeah, jungkook was a lost cause. at least for tonight, five down. and with everyone else having their own thing going on, yoongi was left alone. just needing... something.
what that something is, he doesn't know or even really care all that much. so long as he can get himself right as soon as possible.
the only way he knew how to do this on his own, in a motherfuckng pinch, was to go out and find himself the biggest fucking cock to choke on. someone big, willing to be a bit rough, who'd be down to toss him around and fuck this restlessness right out of him.
and if a shameless one night stand was what he was looking for, then there was only one place for it. yoongi would just have to go down to omelas and hope for the best.
-
again, yoongi wasn't much one for going out to clubs. but then again, omelas wasn't much of a club to begin with; once an abandoned row of dilapidated motel rooms on the edge of town, omelas had just last year been converted into what it is today. not only a bar, not quite a proper club, but every inch a fantastic goddamn mess. it was where their group ended up most weekends, and sometimes weekdays, when things were good.
things were not good, lately and for a while now, so yoongi is here alone. a first.
still, he's here with a purpose, and he pushes through the crowds as such. his eyes stay peeled as he passes through from one room to the next, letting the shifting music carry him along. he stops to grind up on a body or two whenever he's asked to dance, accepts a few drinks along the way as well. but no one really strikes his very specific fancy, so he keeps moving.
yoongi has a final destination in mind, one of the rooms at the farthest end of the old motel, that always plays the best music. the atmosphere is a lot more chill back here, the energy much less frenetic and more... heavy. yoongi can feel the bass from the speakers down to his motherfucking bones and he loves it.
he's let three different dudes dance up on him over the course of three different songs so far, and as the dj slides into the next track, yoongi lets lucky number four slide his arms around his neck. or maybe the poor guy would be better called unlucky, because not even a full minute later, yoongi sees him.
across the room, at the center of a small group lingering near the bar, stands the most beautiful man yoongi has ever seen. tall and broad and smiling brightly, the neon lights dance over his skin enticingly. his friends are a lively bunch in general, it seems, but this guy in particular, is just -- yoongi can pick out his laughter even from so far away, can hear it clearly even over the steady thump thump thump of the music. when he brings his arms up to clap his hands together in amusement, the action makes his silky top pull taut across his shoulders.
yoongi can feel that shit in his goddamn dick, good lord.
thankfully (for the state of yoongi's pants), Beautiful Loud Laugh and his group of less beautiful and less loud friends start to make their way onto the dancefloor sooner rather than later. seeing his chance, yoongi doesn't even glance back at Unlucky Number Four as he pulls away, slinking through the crowd like a fucking predator cat, doesn't stop until he gets close - but not too close - to his prey. and then he starts to move.
now, yoongi will fully admit to not being the best dancer. but if there was one thing he had learned over the past few years of trawling clubs for dick, it was that as long as you made a show of feeling yourself unashamedly, someone else was bound to start feeling the same. that said, yoongi still nearly chokes on his own fucking saliva when he chances a glance over his shoulder and notices that exactly the right someone has been doing just that. caught up so easily in his trap.
all it takes after that is the sluttiest fucking smirk yoongi can manage, and then Large Pretty Shoulders is breaking apart from his friends without a word.
he's even broader from close up, incredibly enough, and yoongi takes notice of their height difference with a giddy little thrill. when he slides up behind yoongi, hands on his waist as they both moved to the music, yoongi has to bite his lip on a whimper. he's gagging for it so heavily, that by the time a pair of lips come down to mouth gently at his ear, yoongi can already feel himself calming, a bit, sinking into this.
"my name is seokjin," the lips say, a fruity dampness at the side of yoongi's neck. "would you care to dance with me..?"
any other night, and yoongi would laugh at the phrasing, as if they were at a fucking ball or something. instead, he turns around in seokjin's arms and smirks up at him, hoping the low lighting is enough to disguise just how dilated his pupils probably already are. "yoongi," he actually literally purrs, like the goddamn cat in heat that he is. "and i thought we already were. dancing, that is."
seokjin doesn't reply except to laugh, not as loud as he'd been before, but just as captivating. up close, yoongi can see how it scrunches up his face, hear the squeaky little edge to it. and when seokjin falls even deeper into step with him, their legs slotting together and hips lining up as they swayed, seokjin's hands smoothing down past his waist and knobby fingers sneaking underneath the bottom of his shirt to sear their heat onto his skin, yoongi nearly goes weak at the goddamn knees. he manages to keep himself upright, though, thanks in no small part to the sturdy thigh seokjin has got him straddling.
fucking -- hell fucking yes, yoongi shouts internally. this was that good shit, this was exactly what he's been needing. so with that thought already calming the anxious vibration that's been rattling his bones all night, yoongi lets himself sink as well.
they dance like that for most of the rest of the night. and yoongi is so much enjoying just this, just being pressed up against seokjin, that he almost completely forgets his main reason for even coming out to begin with. that is, until seokjin is stepping back slightly to wave goodbyes to his retreating friends, and then stepping back into yoongi's space to get his lips back on yoongi's neck.
"do you want to get out of here?" seokjin asks him, voice low. and yoongi feels like he has never heard a better phrase in his life.
seokjin makes them stop at the bar on their way out, steers them through the small crowd ordering and waiting on their drinks so he can whistle through his teeth at a pretty bartender with dyed red hair and soft eyes similar to seokjin's.
"my younger sister," seokjin tells him, once the girl has nodded back at them and then dropped out of sight. when she returns a moment later with a large duffle bag, which she passes to seokjin over the bar in exchange for a kiss on the cheek, he leans down even closer and explains: "i'm in between couches right now, so... hope that won't be a problem?"
thankfully, the motel yoongi (and sometimes, jungkook) was living in this week wasn't as much of a shithole as usual. so he doesn't think twice before inviting seokjin back to his for the night, letting seokjin place a large palm at the small of his back to move them towards the exit.
and the whole time, yoongi has to hide the obscenely delighted smirk that would have otherwise been curling his lips.
-
turns out, even if yoongi had been staying in a literal ditch on the side of the road, seokjin probably would not have cared; his eyes and hands and lips stay on yoongi the entire bus ride back into the city, and it takes them far longer than it really should to walk down towards the motel, because seokjin keeps pulling them off the sidewalk so he can press yoongi up against closed shop-fronts. not to say that yoongi's all that mad about it, of course. only that, by the time they've finally tripped over the threshold into yoongi's room, seokjin has got him so worked up that it feels as if his penis may actually expire. just give up completely and move onto the next life without him.
so you can imagine his relief when the first thing seokjin does once the door has slammed shut at their backs, is immediately go for yoongi's fly. that sweet, sweet (fucking glorious) relief.
quickly followed by a wave of unfiltered want, that hits him like a smack across the face when seokjin promptly falls to his knees. his face is next, diving into the split of yoongi's zip and nosing along the length of his truly absurd erection. when seokjin opens his mouth to wrap his obscenely plump lips around the head, over the cotton of yoongi's motherfucking boxer briefs, yoongi has to physically bite his tongue on a shout.
"shit, no, what are you -- stop that!" the words come rushing out of his mouth, anxious to regain control, and seokjin just looks up at him, eyes heavy and drooping. yoongi attempts to steady his breathing. "listen - if you put my dick in your mouth right now, i will not last. and since that is not how i need for this to go down, imma need you to fuckin' -- get those lips away from my junk and get up off the damn floor."
"what," seokjin smirks, his breath a damp heat even through yoongi's underwear. "you telling me you wouldn't be able to go again? 'cause you look like the type that could go again."
yoongi is indignant. "don't act like you know me, you don't know anything about --!"
"you could though, right? you could get it back up for me?"
yoongi is... weak.
"fuckin' -- fine, okay? you can suck my goddamn dick. but seriously, get up, who knows what kind of nastiness these carpets have seen." seokjin stands without a word, though his face is obviously pleased. yoongi rolls his eyes, turns to walk toward the bed so the smug bastard can't see his own small grin. "and take off your goddamn clothes, already. i need to see what those ridiculous shoulders are all about."
he hears the sound of a choked laugh behind him, followed by the rustling of hastily discarded clothes, and is satisfied into action himself. yoongi finishes yanking down his jeans just as he gets to the edge of the mattress, rips his jacket off his arms and t-shirt over his head as he climbs into bed. he's naked by the time he reaches the center of the mattress, and seokjin is very much the same once yoongi turns around to reach for him, already crawling into the space between yoongi's spread legs.
"get over here, you fucking delicious giant," yoongi growls, and seokjin complies.
for two entire, absolutely delirious hours, seokjin not only gets over yoongi, but also under him and all around, presses yoongi down into the mattress and touches him every which where, top to bottom - at one point, he even sucks a biting kiss to the tender meat of yoongi's thigh, just above the crease of his bent knee, and then follows it up not even five minutes later with the most painfully tender press of his lips to the thin skin at the inside of his elbow. yoongi shouts, and then, somewhat embarrassingly, whimpers.
seokjin is careful, but firm, and so incredibly thorough that yoongi can't help but feel -- consumed.
it's the most sated and content yoongi has felt after sex in, well. probably ever. and he's so boneless, practically melting into the threadbare sheets after having come - twice! - that it takes him a minute to realize what the fuck seokjin is getting up to, hanging over his edge of the bed. but then yoongi sees him pull a goddamn tape recorder out of his duffle bag, face (endearingly) triumphant, and it all comes rushing back in an instant.
"wait..." yoongi croaks, voice still fairly wrecked. "wait, wait, hold the fuck up - are you telling me you were serious about recording me? and you want to do this now, when i literally still have your ejaculate in my ass?"
"you do still have my come in your ass, and i still can't believe you convinced me to put it there," seokjin says disapprovingly, making a face. yoongi can only shrug. "also, yes? why wouldn't i be serious?"
"i don't know! because it's fucking weird, maybe?" yoongi doesn't understand why he even needs to explain himself.
seokjin pouts at him. "it's not weird, it's a memory. for like, when i'm old and gray and can't remember why i bothered to live for so long."
"wow, that got dark fast," yoongi observes, eyebrows raised.
it's seokjin's turn to shrug, this time. "anyway, none of that matters because you already promised, so --"
"i'm gonna need to stop you right there," yoongi says, palm held up in front of seokjin's face. "promises made while drunk and horny and trying not to come in your pants while riding the goddamn night bus do not count for shit, sorry to say."
"they do so count!" seokjin cries, shoving yoongi's hand out of his face. yoongi just uses it to shrug once more.
"nope, sorry, i don't make the rules."
"you're terrible" seokjin whines, falling forward to bury his face in yoongi's chest with a huff.
he's pouting again, yoongi can feel it against his skin, and for some reason, it makes him waver. that, plus -- the solid weight of seokjin's body all along his side, the sickly sweet combination of smells between seokjin's shampoo and his sweat matted hair, the way seokjin has begun to trail slightly crooked fingers up and down yoongi's bare side. he was fucked before he even got this guy in bed, honestly. and now?
yoongi sighs. "fine, i'll do the thing. but i'm gonna need to roll a fat fucking joint first."
seokjin's head comes up off his chest so fast, yoongi doesn't know how he doesn't give himself whiplash.
"really?" he asks, eyes practically sparkling despite there only being one shitty lamp on in the entire room. "you'll really do it?"
"i said fine, didn't i? so it's fine, i'll do it," yoongi groans exaggeratedly, pushing lightly at seokjin's shoulder. "now move, so i can get my goddamn drugs."
seokjin is quick to obey, rolls over onto his back, smiling up at the ceiling like a weirdo. yoongi hides his own weird smile and turns to the edge of the bed, reaching around so he can dig an arm into the space between the mattress and boxspring. once his fingers have located and curled around the thin lock box, yoongi pulls it out and settles it down into his lap.
"hand me those keys on the nightstand," yoongi asks seokjin, who does so without even needing to move from his spot, just reaches over with one arm and then passes them over with the other.
once he's got the box open, yoongi gets out some papers and his personal supply of weed, and then sets to work. seokjin watches him at it, this sort of hungry look in his eye whenever yoongi has to flick out his tongue. and the whole thing is just so goddamn sexy, yoongi has to force himself to hurry the hell up before his dick got hard again like a fucking teenager. he's lighting up soon after - inhale, hold, exhale - turns to seokjin and asks if he wanted to partake as well. only if you shotgun it for me, he says, low in his throat, voice gone all gritty.
and it's a bad, no good, terrible idea... but those are yoongi's favorite kind, so.
a whole ass half hour later, kiss drunk and high as fuck, yoongi pulls back from biting at the curve of seokjin's shoulder. he nods down at his handiwork, pleased, and then nods again over at the discarded tape recorder on seokjin's side of the bed.
"let's fuckin' do this thing, then," yoongi tells him, and seokjin smiles.
-
the tape is recording. yoongi doesn't know what the fuck to say.
"i don't know what the fuck to say, seokjin."
"seokjin-hyung, remember? and you can say anything, say -- tell me about tonight."
"what about tonight?"
"like, what were your expectations when you went out? did i meet them? what did you think of me when you first saw me at the club? what did you think of me when you got me in bed? how was the sex - too hard, too slow, not enough? did you wish my dick was bigger --?"
"your dick is plenty big, don't fucking front."
"i'm not! and thank you."
"i think i should be the one thanking you, honestly."
"should you? why's that?"
"shit, um. i don't know, just -- okay, so. why did i come out tonight?"
"mhmm."
"because one of my best friends is in the fucking hospital again for the third time in as many months and all my other friends are busy with their own fucking lives, so when i started feeling like i was gonna vibrate out of my fucking skin, i decided to go out and find myself a nice, good cock to pound me into this nasty fucking mattress."
"enter kim seokjin."
"pretty much. and you definitely exceeded expectations, by the way. you and your beautiful goddamn dick."
"flatterer."
"nah, i only speak the truth. and the truth is that your beautiful goddamn dick really helped me out tonight, so thanks."
"oh. well you're very welcome, then."
"fuck, that was too serious. was that too serious? i still don't know what the fuck to say."
"no no, not too serious. and i don't mind serious, anyhow. i like this, i like you. you've got a cute little nose and a cute little butt and i would bite them both if i didn't think you'd hit me."
"i wouldn't hit you, probably -- also, um... thanks, i guess. i like you too, hyung. you're kind of, almost just like, this big ridiculous human, right? but it works, and it's strangely calming, and i like it."
"............ you called me hyung."
"oh. did i really?"
"mhmm. it was nice. say it again, would you?"
"hyung."
"oh no, oh no."
"what's wrong, seokjin-hyung?"
"oh my god, stop being a brat, just -- if i put this on hold for now, would you let me suck your cute little dick and then we'll pick up again later?"
"you think i've got a cute dick?"
"the cutest."
"...... fine. pause that shit and come suck my cute little dick, i guess."
"yah! what happened to your polite speech, huh?"
yoongi laughs, still not quite knowing what to say. so he plucks the recorder out of seokjin's hand, ignores seokjin's indignant squawk, and presses down on the stop button himself. then he throws a leg up and over seokjin's hips, crawls up his chest, and smirks down into seokjin's pleasantly surprised face.
"so," he says, off the record. "get to it then, hyung."
-
namjoon calls obscenely fucking early the following morning, the prick. surprisingly, it isn't the twin annoyance of his phone vibrating under his pillow and screeching into his ear that wakes him, but seokjin, gently shaking him awake with a sleep-soft smile.
"your phone's been going off for the past ten minutes, thought you should know."
and when yoongi groans, seokjin just chuckles, this gorgeous raspy thing, and hands him his phone just as it starts to go off again.
"you answer that, and i'll head out to get something to nibble... unless you'd like me to leave, in which case i'll just nip into the bathroom and then be out of your hair."
when yoongi's only response is to groan again, this time sounding suspiciously like the word fooooooood, seokjin just chuckles low in his throat once more, already out of bed and picking up his discarded clothes from across the floor. yoongi watches him for a couple of minutes, letting his eyes roam over seokjin's naked skin for as long as possible before piece by piece, he's (regrettably) fully dressed. he turns around from digging in his bag, wallet in hand, and yoongi isn't quick enough to look away so as not to get caught staring. seokjin doesn't comment on it except to smirk, however, pointing at yoongi's hand and saying, "you should return that call, i'll be back in fifteen."
honestly, yoongi had forgotten all about the phone in his hand, hadn't even noticed when it stopped vibrating in his palm. but as the door to his room closes behind seokjin's back, yoongi looks down at it, sees namjoon's name next to half a dozen missed call notifications; with one last groan, yoongi rolls himself out of bed and heads for the bathroom. he checks his texts as he pisses, and sure enough, namjoon has left him a string of messages, just in case yoongi wasn't in a talking mood. and he really wasn't, so he opens their text convo and scrolls to the earliest one - not from that morning at all, but in fact late last night.
according to namjoon, jungkook had shown up at the gas station not long after midnight. not too badly roughed up this time, don't worry. i was easily able to patch him up with the shitty first aid kit that management keeps under the register, namjoon makes sure to assure him, and yoongi can just about hear his friend's rueful laughter in the calming words. after that, jungkook had apparently decided to hang around until namjoon clocked out two hours later, followed him home and then forced namjoon to spoon up behind him after crawling into namjoon's bed.
the first message from today, timestamped at the unholy hour of six in the morning, tells him that, as penance for being a self-destructive dipshit, namjoon was making jungkook take the second hobi watch shift. yoongi winces, knowing how much jungkook hates hospitals, but ultimately doesn't feel too much sympathy. it's what he deserved, after all.
after sending namjoon a quick gotcha, thanks joonie of acknowledgement, yoongi finally moves to start finishing up in the bathroom. he washes his hands and teeth and face, rakes his fingers through his bedhead a few times, and is stepping back into the main room just as seokjin is walking in through the front door.
the smell hits him first, and yoongi lets it guide him over to seokjin's side. he's got a cardboard cup holder with their drinks in one hand, his other arm wrapped around a large brown paper bag, and when he sees yoongi coming, he smiles.
"you bought coffee," yoongi sighs happily.
"i bought coffee," seokjin reaffirms, still smiling. he's got a look in his eyes like he wants to reach out and touch, which yoongi would not be opposed to, but his hands are full. yoongi can fix that, he thinks. but when he reaches out himself to help lighten the load, seokjin pulls back a step, his grin turning playful. "nuh uh-uh, hands to yourself until we're settled. otherwise we'll just make a mess."
they both pause to take a look around the small room. nice(r than usual) as it was, there still weren't many options as far as seating went. yoongi only has to glance at the floor to rule out the questionably stained carpet straight away. he shrugs, looks back at seokjin, and nods towards the mattress.
"back to bed, then?" he asks, to which seokjin agrees. once yoongi has crawled back across the mattress and sat up against the wall at the head of the bed, he extends his arms out in front of him, making grabby hands at the coffee once more. "now gimmie."
"aigoo, how impatient," seokjin teases, but doesn't make him wait any longer, lifting one of the tall paper cups out of its holder and handing it over. "anyhow, i didn't know how you liked your drink, so i just ordered it black - but i made sure to grab a bunch of cream and sugar packets just in case, so --"
"no no, this is perfect," yoongi waves him off. "thank you."
seokjin's grin is incredibly bright; no matter where yoongi stayed, he always kept the blinds shut tight over the windows, so as not to be woken up by the sun before he was good and ready. but it seemed that seokjin must have opened them at some point before he left to scavenge for food, because a great swath of sunlight floods into the room right at that moment, as if peeking out from behind a cloud just so it could warm seokjin's smiling face.
yeah, even in the harsh sobering light of the following morning, seokjin was still the most beautiful person yoongi had ever seen.
"you're very welcome," Gorgeous Bright Smile says, shooting him a gorgeous, bright smile before suddenly thrusting the remaining cup of coffee towards yoongi. "now here, hold this while i get settled."
yoongi does as he's bid and then sits back to watch as seokjin bustles, setting the brown paper bag on the mattress before crouching down at the side of the bed. he unzips his duffle bag, trading the wallet from his jeans pocket for a light pink polaroid camera, which he also tosses onto the mattress before climbing up onto it himself. when yoongi raises a curious eyebrow at the camera, seokjin chuckles softly.
"to document our meal, of course!" he informs yoongi, immediately setting about unloading their spoils from the paper bag the second he's sat himself cross-legged across from yoongi's own.
"of course," yoongi can't help but smile back. "just like how you had to document the fucked out voice of the guy you had just stuck your dick into last night."
if possible, seokjin's grin grows even wider, obviously pleased. "yes, exactly just like that! which reminds me..."
he trails off vaguely, reaching over for the pink polaroid. seokjin fiddles with the thing for a second before promptly bringing the viewfinder up to his eye and snapping a photo of yoongi's shocked face. it all happens so fast, that yoongi can't even open his mouth to complain until the deed is done and seokjin is carefully pulling the photo out the top of the camera.
"what the fuck was that for?" yoongi asks, not nearly as biting as he'd planned. oh well.
seokjin just grins over at him, cheekily. "oh nothing, just forgot to take a pic of yesterday's midnight snack."
then he has the audacity to fucking wink and yoongi groans, pained. this fucking guy.
"did you really just --? what the hell, hyung?"
"i really did just," seokjin laughs again, finally having set up their breakfast between them in just the way he wanted. he picks up his camera once more, this time pointing it down at the arrangement, and continues speaking as he sets up the shot. "so... are we still ignoring phone calls this morning, or what?"
yoongi has no idea what he's talking about, so he waits until seokjin has taken his photo and set his camera aside before handing him his cooled coffee with another curiously furrowed brow. seokjin accepts it gratefully with one hand, the other pointing a long finger down at yoongi's side.
when yoongi looks, he sees his phone lying there, still lit up briefly with a voicemail notification. honestly, he couldn't even remember setting it down, much less feeling it go off. he really needed to turn the ringer back on. in the meantime, yoongi picks up his phone with a quick do you mind? for seokjin, and then calls his voicemail once he gets the go ahead.
the recording starts off fairly loud, a huff of breath and the sound of boots kicking up gravel. namjoon must have been walking to work, then.
"hey, hyung," he starts, his breath a steady crackle against the receiver. "tae's dad is back to work first thing monday, so he says he should be good to go see hoseok tomorrow. jiminie's insisting on a second visit on tuesday, though, and i've got off the day after that, which just leaves you for thursday," he pauses, hums thoughtfully. "if you can make it, of course... and then, like. we'll all go down on friday when he gets discharged, as per the usual." there's a sharp inhale, followed by a winced shit, fuck, ow and the harsh crunch of gravel. yoongi can't even bring himself to laugh at what was obviously the sounds of his clumsy fucking dongsaeng tripping over his own goddamn feet. namjoon continues after a moment to catch his breath, voice coming out a bit ragged and just a touch embarrassed. "anyway, just let me know. talk to you later, hyung."
yoongi deletes the voicemail before the automated voice can even prompt him to do so, lowers his phone away from his ear. then he takes a deep breath and lets the exhale deflate him into a slouch. his head falls back against the wall and he stays like that for a minute, staring up at a water stain on the ceiling and trying not to think about what the fuck he's gonna do with the rest of his week.
he apparently tries a little bit too hard, because he doesn't even notice that seokjin's been calling his name until a cream puff bounces off his nose and falls into his lap. yoongi picks up the pastry and immediately pops it into his mouth. fuck, that's delicious, he thinks, looking up into seokjin's worried expression.
"you've got the saddest fucking look on your face right now," seokjin informs him, his voice soft and somewhat at odds with his words. "what's going on, yoongi-yah?"
he doesn't wait for yoongi to answer before stuffing another cream puff in his mouth and then carefully sliding the rest of the bag across the mattress toward yoongi, depositing them safely right in front of his crossed legs. yoongi looks down at the bag and then back up at seokjin, making a decision right then and there.
it might be a bit impulsive and probably more than a bit ridiculous, but it isn't even close to the worst idea he's ever had, so yoongi doesn't stop himself from asking, "you said you were in between couches right now, yeah? does that mean you don't have anywhere to go tonight either?"
seokjin sits up slightly straighter, obviously not expecting the question. but he's back to smiling sweetly a beat later, taking a sip of his coffee and nodding back at yoongi.
"yes and yes, actually. i have a bit of money saved up, so i usually just end up fucking around the city all day, meeting up with friends if i can. then when it gets late, i start calling around to see who'll let me crash at their place --"
"or you pick someone up at a club and go home with them," yoongi can't help but interrupt.
seokjin doesn't seem to mind, though, throwing back his head and letting out a sharp bark of laughter. "exactly!" he exclaims, shamelessly reaching over to grab another cream puff from the bag still sitting in front of yoongi. once he's swallowed it down and licked the crumbs off his fingers, seokjin smirks slyly back over at him. "why do you ask? you offering me your bed, yoongi-yah?"
"yeah," yoongi answers, without skipping a beat. he shrugs. "if you want to and don't mind chipping in for food or whatever, then yeah, just stay here with me. at least for the week."
he doesn't mean for that last bit to sound so desperate, but it's already out of his mouth and he can't take any of it back now, so he takes a deep sip from his coffee and waits for seokjin's response.
seokjin, thankfully, is kind. doesn't make yoongi wait very long at all before saying i would love that, thank you around a wide grin. yoongi can only sigh, relieved.
-
THE MIDDLE
-
much like how seokjin had earlier described his daily habits, they end up spending most of the following week in the streets; yoongi's got to go back to work anyway, selling overpriced weed to gangnam kids who don't know any better. so all the walking around town is good for business, if nothing else, gets them across the city multiple times over in just a few days. between seokjin's stash of cash - a fucking thick roll of bills that yoongi had finally caught a glimpse of one night when seokjin couldn't find his actual wallet - and yoongi's steady earnings, they do alright.
parks and cafes and once, even a museum, during the day. bars and clubs and that time they'd gone to a small festival the next town over, after the sun went down.
along the way, seokjin gets introduced to yoongi's idiot friends pretty much one by one. starting with jungkook, who had come back that first night after yoongi had asked seokjin to stay, tumbled in through the door at three in the morning, took one look at seokjin eating yoongi's ass in bed, and promptly stumbled his way into the bathroom to vomit.
"it wasn't the, like - gay shit, or whatever, you know? like, even i've, um -- sometimes with jiminie and tae, we like, you know -- yeah, so. it wasn't that," he'd stuttered, once seokjin had rushed to the bathroom to see if he was okay. the tenderhearted bastard had rubbed soothing circles into jungkook's back as he dry heaved over the toilet, and then helped the pathetic little punk clean himself up as he looked back and forth between seokjin and yoongi with a brilliant flush staining his cheeks. "i've just had, like. a really rough fucking night, you know? went to go see hoseokie-hyung this afternoon, so. that's all. i can leave, like, if you guys want to get back to... yeah."
but of course, because seokjin was apparently a saint or some shit, he had insisted that they were quite alright cutting things short for the night - yoongi had been shushed when he'd tried to remark that he very much was not alright with that, actually - as long as it meant that jungkook could get a good night's rest in a proper bed. and so that's how seokjin had met jungkook, and then proceeded to spend the rest of his night spooned up behind him in sleep, while yoongi looked on in (reluctantly fond) disgust.
the following day, seokjin met namjoon. bright and early, yoongi had marched them all down to the gas station to drop off their problem child, grumbling about the trials of co-parenting and trying not to let on how pleased he felt every time he got seokjin to laugh. business had been slow that day and namjoon didn't immediately kick them out, so they'd ended up staying through the morning, fucking around in the small convenience store until yoongi got a call for a delivery in hongdae.
and then, just two days later, they quite literally ran into jimin and taehyung. back at omelas of fucking course, one pair of them bumping into the other, both doing more dry humping than actual dancing. they'd spent the rest of the night in a tight little unit and then gone back to yoongi's room, where they'd done a lot of drunken fumbling amongst the four of them and then passed out in a heap, slotted together like puzzle pieces on the narrow mattress.
seokjin documents every single day.
he takes the pink polaroid camera everywhere, takes pictures of absolutely everything. and as far as yoongi knew, those photo refills were expensive as fuck, but seokjin seemed to have a never ending supply in that damn duffle bag of his. by the end of the week, he has a thick stack of developed polaroids, people and buildings and flowers. and lots of yoongi, yoongi, yoongi.
he gets some nice shots of yoongi's friends as well, naturally, and even pulls out the small tape recorder a couple of times; he documents jungkook's incoherent, sleepy mumblings in the early hours of dawn, gets an official record of namjoon's complaining about how trading out cigarettes for lollipops had not been one of his best ideas, lets jimin and taehyung pass the device back and forth as they gushed over all their soulmate bullshit, while seokjin looked on fondly. and always, more of yoongi, yoongi, yoongi.
by the time seokjin brings out the small handheld camcorder, yoongi is no longer surprised. just smiles into the lens and lets seokjin have his memories.
-
on thursday, yoongi asks seokjin to go with him to the hospital. seokjin isn't allowed to go up with him to actually see hoseok, but insists that it's fine and stays down by the nurses station instead. by the time yoongi returns, he's managed to flirt himself into all sorts of stickers and treats. and then, because yoongi had apparently spoken so unbearably sweetly about him - hoseok's words, not his - he's asked to bring seokjin along again on friday, where he meets everyone all at once for the first time.
they love him, of course, and even though it's their first time being properly introduced, it's hoseok himself who extends the invitation for seokjin to join the rest of them at his i lived, bitch party.
"well, actually," hoseok begins to amend himself with a self-deprecating chuckle. "it's less of a party and more like, just the bunch of us assholes dicking around and getting shitfaced, but. you're more than welcome to stick around for what i'm sure will be loads of fun."
yoongi can't tell if hoseok is being sarcastic, and he isn't sure that seokjin can either, but he accepts the invitation anyway. seokjin is smiling, a pleased little thing, and yoongi finds himself mirroring it.
it happens again later that night, after they've partied and eaten and run through the streets like goddamn hooligans, all of them now heavy with drink and laying all over one another around a makeshift bonfire; hoseok is whining, saying he needs to get out of this shitty fucking city, and seokjin is sat next to him, smiling across the flames at yoongi. the fingers yoongi has been running through jungkook's hair still for only a moment, before yoongi is smiling back at him.
as if that were all the answer seokjin had been waiting for, he immediately bends forward to grab his duffle bag off the ground, pulls it into his lap and starts to dig through it with purpose. no one else seems to notice besides yoongi, though, until seokjin is interrupting hoseok's diatribe, knocking their shoulders together lightly. it gets hoseok to shut up, at least, and he leans into seokjin's side with a questioning hum.
seokjin doesn't say anything at first, just pulls what looks to be a polaroid photo out of his bag and holds it up in front of hoseok's face. how about here? yoongi can just about hear seokjin whisper.
hoseok answers right away, nodding enthusiastically and plucking the polaroid right out of seokjin's fingers. he's out of his seat in the next second, bouncing around the fire and falling across namjoon and taehyung's laps with a cackling laugh.
"clear the rest of your weekend, asswipes, cause seokjinie-hyung is taking us to the seeeeea!" hoseok cries, passing the photo around.
it reaches yoongi soon enough, jungkook sighing wistfully before handing it over, and when he takes a look, yoongi can definitely understand the sentiment; the picture isn't much, truthfully, the focus a bit hazy and only just a bit of sand at the bottom of the frame before the shore blurs into the ocean. but it's still incredibly effective, makes yoongi yearn deep in his chest.
he looks up and through the flames to meet seokjin's gaze once more, doesn't realize he's smiling until seokjin returns the gesture. his impossibly beautiful mirror image.
-
THE END
-
they leave the very next day. piled into a massive four door pickup that they borrow from seokjin's younger sister - who is positively dwarfed while standing next to the hulking thing - they head north first, and then east, towards the coast.
"i know a place," seokjin tells them, bangs ruffled by the wind coming in through the open windows.
the place turns out to be the exact beach from the photo, it looks like, kilometers upon kilometers of untouched sand, not a single soul in sight. seokjin drives his sister's giant ass truck over the embankment and directly onto the sand, right up near the shoreline, but not so close that they'll sink when the tide comes in.
it's beautiful.
they all tumble out of the truck the second seokjin cuts the engine, somehow end up in a staggered line along the shore, staring out into the water. holy shit someone says, somewhere to yoongi's left. they sound awed and almost choked up, and he can't tell who it is because he refuses to look away from the sight before him, but he definitely seconds the sentiment.
yoongi feels a hand slide against his, then, fingers folding together. his breath catches in his chest and he can't look up at seokjin, afraid that the tightness behind his eyes will turn into full on tears if he catches even a glimpse of seokjin's beautiful fucking face in that moment. instead, yoongi just holds on tight to his hand and hopes seokjin understands.
-
they have two almost idyllic days by the sea, full of laughter and general foolishness all around. it's fun. and whenever yoongi looks over at seokjin, that same ache in his chest and tightness behind his eyes returns, just like staring into the ocean and feeling too much all at once.
yoongi loves his friends, loves that they've been able to become a family for one another. and he thinks, maybe, he could love seokjin as well.
the thought frightens him, but not as much as he expected it to. he was afraid of loving seokjin in the same way that he was afraid of the sea; it was so vast, so open and honest and deep deep deep, and it wouldn't take much for a wave to come along and swallow him whole. but the scariest part was looking out into the water, looking over at seokjin, and realizing that he wasn't scared of drowning at all, actually. that he would gladly embrace the waves and let them embrace him back, allow them to pull him deep deep deep beneath their surface, without even a second thought.
it was a dangerous sort of thrill, and yoongi has always had the worst impulse control.
-
but like all things, it doesn't last. and all it takes are two small words falling from seokjin's painfully beautiful lips, for yoongi to remember;
i'm leaving
nothing is forever and no one stays.
-