Yoongi has never prided himself on his friendliness—not that he’s unfriendly, but he keeps to himself. He likes keeping his circles small; staying quiet and fading into the background is a great way of making sure no one tries to worm their way into his life.
His mom would yank his ear if she found out he was being rude to strangers, though, so he isn’t impolite. Just… unapproachable.
He doesn’t understand why this happy-go-lucky new kid decided to slide into the seat next to him and strike up a conversation when there are countless classmates who look much more his speed. He’s attractive enough that Yoongi is sure even the snobbiest of them would jump at the chance to talk to him, help him, give him whatever he wants with a well-timed bat of his lashes.
Yoongi would jump at the chance if he wasn’t already very happily taken for the foreseeable future.
“Can I help you?” Yoongi says when the boy utters a single “hi,” and absolutely nothing else.
The boy suddenly drops his lost expression, instead breaking out into a smile reminiscent of a bunny. “I’m sorry, my name is Jungkook. I’m new.”
Yoongi hums. “Obviously.”
He is not being rude. Just not as well-mannered as he could be.
This kid—Jungkook—doesn’t seem to be bothered by Yoongi’s uninterested tone. “Right. Well, I was actually hoping to find someone to show me around? I noticed the textbooks in your bag—looks like I’m taking a lot of the same classes, so I figured you would know where everything is.”
Yoongi raises a brow. Jungkook remains absolutely unfazed by all of the unwelcoming signals he’s sending. Clearly this kid isn’t going away any time soon—and, the hopeful part of his brain chimes in, if he isn’t turned off by your deadpan personality, maybe he’s not so bad.
“I can show you after class,” Yoongi utters, thinking of how proud his mother would be of his good deed. But then a thought hits him—“Right after I make a quick stop for my boyfriend.”
He watches Jungkook closely as soon as the words leave his mouth; maybe Jungkook wasn’t the type to be perturbed by displeasing personalities, but if he had a problem with Yoongi’s sexuality, Yoongi would quickly and rightfully retract his previous kindness with his mother’s blessing. Thankfully, the boy doesn’t flinch, just nods his head hard enough that his hair flops around. “Of course. Make whatever stops you need to first, I’m free until two.”
Yoongi nods his agreement, short and sweet, just as their professor walks through the door and immediately begins rambling.
Jungkook is both quiet and a massive talker.
Whereas Yoongi would be one-hundred percent comfortable walking in silence, only speaking when necessary, Jungkook appears to feel the need to make small talk.
“So what’s good here?” he asks once they’re inside the campus café, wide eyes scanning the menu signs.
“The coffee is good,” he says, because that’s pretty much the only thing he—or anyone else—ever orders from the place. Taehyung isn’t a coffee person, often preferring something fruity. “And the muffins,” he adds, remembering how Taehyung had raved about the blueberry ones a few weeks back. Maybe Taehyung wants a muffin?
Yoongi orders a strawberry smoothie and one blueberry muffin, just in case. Jungkook gets a large coffee, black. Yoongi appreciates his taste.
Their orders are completed quickly enough that Jungkook doesn’t attempt anymore conversation while they wait. Yoongi stuffs the bag containing his muffin on top of his books, careful to keep it from getting squished, then takes a sip of the smoothie before they leave.
Jungkook creases his brows. “Thought that was for your boyfriend?”
“I just wanted a sip. No point in ordering two just for one sip,” he replies, because he doesn’t know how to explain to Jungkook that he had once delivered Taehyung a smoothie, only for him to make an offhanded comment on how thick it was. The next time Yoongi went into the shop, he was so clear about his preference for the smoothie to be thoroughly mixed that it verged on insulting. That was months ago, and Yoongi always took a cautionary drink before leaving the shop to avoid Taehyung getting a thick smoothie again.
Jungkook simply hums his acknowledgement, finally putting his own coffee to his lips. “Mm,” he says, looking at the cup thoughtfully. He adjusts the strap of his bag, hitching it up higher on his shoulder. “So you’re gay?” he asks conversationally.
“I’m open to pretty much anything,” Yoongi responds noncommittally, the phrase one he’s repeated too many times to count over the years, “Including boys, yes.”
Jungkook nods. “So you can give me a heads-up on the available men?”
Yoongi glances at him from the corner of his eye. “I guess?”
“Sick,” Jungkook responds.
They head toward the library where Yoongi knows Taehyung will be. Jungkook never lets a beat of silence pass the entire way, but as time goes on, Yoongi grows to almost like it.
Until they get to the library.
Yoongi spots Taehyung at a table with Jimin and Hoseok, their books open in front of them as if they were studying but their animated faces clearly giving away that they were doing everything but. A smile involuntarily finds its way onto his face at the sight, his feet speeding up.
“Oh my God,” Jungkook lets out from beside him, shocking Yoongi who had momentarily forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Who is that? Please tell me he’s into men.”
When Yoongi looks up to find out who Jungkook is looking at, to give this kid a shot at whatever oblivious boy has caught his eye, he finds Jungkook staring a hole into Taehyung.
“That would be my boyfriend,” Yoongi interjects none-too-kindly.
He hears Jungkook let out a snort of a laugh. “I’m serious.”
Yoongi huffs, picking up his pace and leaving Jungkook behind him. “Me too.”
Immediately, Jungkook latches onto his forearm; Yoongi turns around, keeping his expression neutral. “Shit. I didn’t mean—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Obviously,” Yoongi says.
“I just—God, I just tried to get you to tip me off on your boyfriend, then took it as a joke when you said he was your boyfriend. I swear, I didn’t—if I had known—”
Yoongi lets out a long sigh. He forces down the part of his brain that suddenly sees Jungkook as competition, that wants to intimidate Jungkook enough that he never even so much as breathes near Taehyung again. “Relax,” he says, both to Jungkook and himself, the words hard to pry out, “If I hated everyone who thinks Taehyung is hot, I would have a vendetta against half the school.”
He can hear Jungkook stumbling over more apologies, but he makes eye contact with Taehyung whose face lights up, his hands urging his boyfriend to hurry over so Yoongi goes without a second thought.
As soon as the smoothie hits the table, Taehyung is out of his seat and throwing his arms dramatically around Yoongi. “You’re a life saver,” he mumbles into his hair, drawing a chuckle from Yoongi.
He returns the hug before letting his boyfriend go; Taehyung plops back into his seat with a contented purr. Yoongi pulls the bag containing his muffin from his side, setting it down next to a pile of books. “I got that, too. Just because. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want it.”
Taehyung unfolds the top of the bag and peeks inside, his eyes growing as wide as saucers once he realizes what treat he’s been given. He looks up at Yoongi like he’s given him the greatest gift he’s ever received. “You’re the actual best boyfriend.”
To his left, Jimin lets out a groan. “Stop.”
“Who’s your friend?” Hoseok interjects loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to Jungkook, who appears to have stopped behind Yoongi with a sheepish look. Jungkook turns even more awkward upon being noticed, his eyes flitting around the table—from Hoseok to Jimin and finally to Taehyung, where they linger a moment longer until Jungkook begins staring at the dead center of the table instead.
Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t kind of enjoy watching him suffer, but the kid is suddenly looking so terrified that he takes pity. “This is Jungkook. He’s new. He asked me to show him around.”
Jimin laughs at that, eyes crinkling up. “He must be new, then. Anyone who’s been here for a week knows Yoongi is the last person to ask for anything.”
He watches Jungkook’s eyes widen at Jimin’s words, as if he’s rethinking every decision he’s made that’s landed him where he is now; Yoongi chuckles.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Yoongi is the greatest tour guide this place has ever seen.”
“You’re biased,” Jimin throws in, while Hoseok adds a, “Jimin, quit trying to scare the poor guy.”
“Maybe I should go,” Jungkook chimes in, very much looking like he wants to do just that.
“No way!” Taehyung shouts abruptly. He reaches for Yoongi’s hands that have been hanging uselessly at his side and holds them in his own. Yoongi melts at the way Taehyung looks up at him. “Babe, go on. You never make new friends. Help Jungkook out, be a good mentor, then come home and tell me all about it.”
Yoongi has never been good at saying no to him. “Fine. But make sure you guys get some actual studying done, okay? I don’t want you cramming the night before again.”
A pout. An actual pout. “Kiss me and I’ll think about it?”
Never would he have ever been okay with such gross amount of PDA before Taehyung, but his boyfriend is clingy and likes receiving any form of affection at any given time. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to lean down and peck his boyfriend on the cheek, then the lips; it’s more than worth it for the way Taehyung grins afterward. “Persuasive,” he mumbles, pulling his book closer, “I’ll study.”
“Good boy,” Yoongi praises him, running a happy hand through Taehyung’s hair even as Jimin gags. “See you tonight. Love you.”
“Love you,” Taehyung echoes.
The half-mortified, half-apologetic look Jungkook gives him as they walk away makes Yoongi smug.
“What did you say to that kid today?” Taehyung asks as soon as Yoongi comes through the door to their apartment. “Jungkook. What did you say to Jungkook to make him look like he was going to shit his pants the entire time he was there?”
Yoongi had given Jungkook his tour of the school as Taehyung had wanted him to, but not before Jungkook oozed out his apologies at least a hundred more times. That had been hours ago, though, and Yoongi wants to say he had almost forgotten completely about the situation.
Except he hadn’t, had spent the rest of his day replaying Jungkook’s laugh as he told him Taehyung was his boyfriend.
“He asked if you were into men,” Yoongi explains.
“What?” Taehyung says, frowning. “What kind of asshole asks a guy if his boyfriend is into men? What a dick move. I never would’ve told you to make friends if I had known—”
A sigh. “He didn’t know you were my boyfriend.”
“Oh. Oh,” Taehyung utters, all remnants of irritation vanishing from his face in seconds. Yoongi’s thankful for that; anger doesn’t suit him. “It was a misunderstanding then?”
Yoongi huffs, finally dropping his bags to the floor and joining Taehyung on their couch. “I told him you were my boyfriend. Then he laughed.”
“Oh,” Taehyung repeats.
“And he kept apologizing to me, right? Saying he didn’t know, that he wouldn’t have asked about you if he had. Said his laugh wasn’t directed at the idea of me and you together, just that he thought I was making a joke to scare him.”
“Yoongi,” he hears.
“And scare him it did. But that’s not—I don’t know.” Yoongi groans, dropping his head to his hands and taking a steadying breath before he continues. “It bothered me that he thought me and you were something to laugh at.”
Taehyung lifts Yoongi’s arm up and slots himself into his side, draping his boyfriend’s arm around his shoulders. “It doesn’t sound like that’s what he meant.”
“I know!” Yoongi bursts. “I know that, but it’s just—old insecurities rearing their ugly heads.”
Back in Taehyung’s freshman year, when they had officially began dating, they were subject to many rumors that it wouldn’t last. That they were way too different to even fall in the category of opposites attracting. Taehyung always laughed off the people who would say as much, but Yoongi had more difficulty getting past the whispers. He was used to being near invisible, and dating Taehyung drew more attention to him than he had ever experienced.
He hated it, but he liked Taehyung’s company more than he wanted to get rid of the neigh-sayers. The talking pretty much disappeared once they hit one year, everyone shocked into silence that they had already lasted so long. Now, two years and eight months later, everyone had accepted that they were a package deal.
Everyone except Jungkook, who thought Yoongi dating Taehyung was a joke.
“He’ll learn just like everyone else did,” Taehyung says, voice mumbled against the side of Yoongi’s chest. “Give him a week, he’ll be over it. You should make friends.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Friends that think my boyfriend is pretty?”
“Lots of my friends think you’re attractive,” comes Taehyung’s reply. He busies himself by playing with Yoongi’s fingers. “I was helping out with the freshman art class about a month ago, remember? You came and sat in on one cause you were free, and the next day, this girl comes up me and just says, ‘your boyfriend is hot,’ right to my face. Like, she knew you were my boyfriend and still said that to me. Even stressed the word just to make sure she got her point across.”
Yoongi remembers that day; he’s never been a big fan of art, but Taehyung is and therefore Yoongi tries to show some interest. He had spent the class trying to listen to what the professor was saying but mostly focused on how warm Taehyung’s hand felt in his the whole time.
“That’s when I told her how talented your mouth is,” Taehyung adds.
“You didn’t,” Yoongi interrupts impassively.
“I didn’t,” Taehyung admits, “but fuck if I wasn’t thinking it. Kept thinking it the entire time. Almost got hard during class just imagining you.”
A light goes off in Yoongi’s head, a switch threatening to flip. “That’s a bit slutty, don’t you think?” he asks, testing the waters.
“Very slutty,” Taehyung agrees; Yoongi watches the way his legs tense up then fall open in anticipation. “Could definitely get hard now just thinking about it.”
That’s all it takes for the switch to flip for Yoongi. “Get on the bed and do it, then. Now.”
Taehyung scurries to their bedroom door, throwing a beckoning look over his shoulder before stepping inside.
Yoongi would be a fool not to follow.
He brings Taehyung to orgasm twice before finally deciding to give in and fuck him.
Coming has relaxed his boyfriend; he’s met with little resistance when he spreads more lube over his hole.
“So sloppy,” Yoongi remarks, two fingers sliding inside of Taehyung. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, Taehyungie. So loose. You think you’ll even feel me?”
“Please,” Taehyung says in lieu of an actual answer, his voice hoarse. He’s panting even as he pushes himself back onto Yoongi’s fingers, pleading. “I—”
Yoongi chuckles. “You what? You need me?” He starts fucking Taehyung with his fingers like the boy so desperately wants, not at all gentle in his movements. Taehyung falls face first into a pillow, ass still up for Yoongi’s taking, and lets his mouth hang open. Yoongi strokes over the skin of his back, smiling to himself. “Feels like you’ve already had more than enough.”
He watches Taehyung splutter, trying to form words but unable to make anything coherent come out. He notices how wet his baby’s eyes are, threatening to spill over at any given second. Ruthlessly, Yoongi takes the hand on his back and pushes, forces Taehyung to curve up even further into his fingers. “What is it? Gonna cry if I don’t fuck you?”
As if on cue, tears spring from Taehyung’s beautiful eyes. They track down his cheeks and straight to the pillow, leaving a few miniscule stains.
Yoongi is so fucking hard.
He slips his fingers out and replaces them with his cock in record time, drinking in Taehyung’s moans with a smirk. He fucking thrives on this, on fucking Taehyung to the point of breaking before he even gets his own dick out. And Taehyung—well, he wouldn’t have been so bratty with Yoongi before if he didn’t want it, too.
He pistons his hips in, out, in, out, picking up his pace until Taehyung whimpers. Yoongi strokes up the length of Taehyung’s spine, slowly, agonizingly slow, until his fingers reach the nape of his neck. He plays with a few strands of the silky hair absentmindedly while he fucks the breath out of Taehyung just to work him up, keep him guessing. Then, with no warning, he drags his palm up to the back of his boyfriend’s head and tangles his fingers in his hair.
Taehyung whines helplessly when Yoongi gives an experimental tug. Yoongi grunts. “You’re so pliant, baby. You’d let me do anything I wanted to you, huh?” He slams his hips in once, hard. “Just to please me?”
Somewhere between taking in stuttering breaths and moaning Yoongi’s name, Taehyung finds it in himself to nod.
Yoongi’s used to doing all the talking when Taehyung ends up like this (not that it’s a problem—his mouth gets dirty quick when he’s hard, and Taehyung has told him more than a few times how much he loves it). “Hmm. How sweet,” he mumbles, delivering another quick yank to Taehyung’s hair, “But what I like most is getting you all quiet like this. Docile.” He pounds his hips hard enough that Taehyung slips up the mattress. He snakes his free hand underneath Taehyung’s body, wrapping it around his pretty cock and tugging fast, hard. “Making you come.”
Taehyung spills into his hand embarrassingly fast as soon as he hears the words. His hole starts seizing up around Yoongi which brings forth his own orgasm; Yoongi drives his cock as deep as he can, dropping Taehyung’s hair and dick so he can hold him by the hips, keep him as close as possible.
Neither of them move or speak for a while, only the sound of their panting filling the room. Taehyung whines when Yoongi pulls out, always upset about being empty again after they’ve fucked like this.
Sometimes Yoongi indulges him and doesn’t move for a good while after, but tonight he wants to clean up then cuddle and it’s a lot easier to do so without his dick holding him in place.
Taehyung lets Yoongi flip him over so they’re facing each other; his face is adorned with a pout that causes Yoongi to grin.
“Come on,” he urges, “Let me clean you up, can’t have you latching onto me with come on your stomach.”
Taehyung groans. “I hate this part.”
“You don’t even do anything,” Yoongi scoffs, wiping at Taehyung’s stomach with a tissue. “You sit back and let me do all the work.”
“That’s what you like,” Taehyung responds matter-of-factly. “You’re the one who fucks me into this state. What was it you said a second ago? I like getting you like this, quiet and docile—”
“The quiet part is already over,” Yoongi cuts him off. He’s gentle when he runs the tissue over the semen running down Taehyung’s thighs, but that doesn’t stop him from getting whined at. “It’s gone as soon as you remember how to speak.”
Taehyung lets out a soft chuckle, making hands at Yoongi when he tosses the soiled tissues away. Yoongi flops onto the bed, burying his head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck and tossing an arm lazily over his middle.
It’s after he’s already half-asleep that he hears a shutter sound.
“Don’t send Jimin anymore post-coital snapchats,” he mumbles against Taehyung’s collarbone.
“This one’s for me and me only,” Taehyung counters, his voice quickly followed by a couple more clicking noises. “Unless you want to show it to Jungkook. Stake your claim.”
Yoongi hums, eyes still closed. “I already staked my claim a long time ago.” He presses a kiss into Taehyung’s skin. “Just get a little sulky sometimes.”
Taehyung giggles at that, shifting until he’s wrapped himself comfortably around Yoongi’s body. Yoongi feels a finger poking and prodding at his cheeks until he cracks open an eye; Taehyung’s face is mere inches away from his own.
“You know I love you, right? No matter how sulky you might get or what any strangers may think.” He grins, placing his palm flat against the side of Yoongi’s face. “We’re soulmates. We’re going to get married, buy a house, adopt a dog, start a family, grow old together.”
The corners of Yoongi’s lips twitch up. “In that order?”
Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t care, just as long as it all gets done.”
Eyes scanning over Taehyung’s beautiful, honest face, there’s no way Yoongi can deny he feels the same. Instead of verbalizing an answer, he offers Taehyung a soft smile and pulls their bodies closer together until there’s not an inch of space left between them.
Curled up together in a tiny ball of bliss, Yoongi can’t remember why he’s ever let anyone’s words get to him when he’s the only one who gets Taehyung like this, always.
Jungkook will still receive an invite to the wedding. Just because.