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if you can believe, you're such a dream to me

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Choosing the apartment had been easy the moment Yoongi had seen the balcony.

There had been a few options for them to consider. The first was nearly an hour away from the city, but it was dirt cheap. Then again, Yoongi’s company was offering a minimum expense reimbursement for relocating, which opened the possibility for the second option, a seven-minute walk away from downtown and right near the heart of Daegu. This one was in a high rise, sleek and modern, and with the reimbursement and the pay raise that came with his promotion, they’d be able to afford it.

Then, there was the third option. It was slightly bigger than the high rise, and just as expensive, in a neighbourhood about thirty minutes away from his new office. Yoongi had liked it, but was still leaning towards the second option, until-

Until he’d seen the balcony.

Seen the balcony, and remembered the first time he’d ever seen Jimin, leaning so far out of the window of his shitty freshman dorm that Yoongi, glancing up from his sketches, had done a double-take, stared until Jimin noticed him.

“Like what you see?” he’d called down with a beaming grin, and when Yoongi asked what he was doing, Jimin replied, “enjoying my balcony.”

“You don’t have a balcony.”

Jimin had winked at him, and Yoongi-

Yoongi had made it a point to walk by Jimin’s dormitory nearly every day after, and without fail, Jimin would be there. Sometimes, he’d be draped over the windowsill and staring out at the campus with a dreamy look in his eyes. Other times, he’d be sat completely on the ledge, one leg curled up to his chest as he watched students pass by on the street below.

And each time Yoongi walked and glanced his way, Jimin would grin and call out, teasingly, “like what you see?”

And Yoongi would stop, and they would talk, Jimin two stories up with his chin pillowed in one hand, Yoongi with a notebook clutched in his, head tilted back and lips quirked as Jimin asked-

What’s your name? (Yoongi. Min Yoongi), what are you drawing in your notebook, Min Yoongi? (plans, building plans), what are you studying, Min Yoongi? (architecture- you can call me hyung, you know), I thought architecture was about collecting fossils and finding old treasure, hyung? (oh my god, that’s archeology, Park Jimin- )

Until one day, Yoongi asked, “why are you always sitting in your window?”

Jimin had smiled at him and said, “because you’re always walking by.”

Now, when Yoongi saw how Jimin’s eyes lit up as he caught sight of the balcony in their new home, how he rushed past all the unopened boxes to slide open the glass door, lean over the rail and stare at the distant city skylights of downtown, all the stresses of moving, the headaches and the heartaches - it was all worth it.

Jimin was all worth it.

“Hyung,” Jimin breathed, exhales rising from his mouth like white wisps in the approaching winter air. He turned to look at Yoongi, but Yoongi was already there, fingers cupping the warmth of Jimin’s neck.

“Like what you see?” Yoongi asked with crooked smile.

Jimin’s next breath ghosted over Yoongi’s face as he laughed, and when he tilted his head back and pressed their mouths together in a kiss, his touch was soft and slow.





It took them a while to fully set up their home. With Yoongi settling into work, getting to know his co-workers and meeting with new clients, and Jimin hurrying to register for his final classes so he could finish the semester after transferring, it was hard to find time to completely unpack.

They started with the main bedroom, filling up the space with their clothes and photos until it felt right, until Yoongi could move around blindly in the mornings as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, until he could follow the sound of Jimin’s laughter and fall beside him, content.

There’d been the kitchen, and the bathrooms, and the guest bedroom – slowly but surely, they worked their way through the apartment until one day, late in September, Yoongi walked in and saw Jimin making something in the kitchen, and thought home.

They ate ramen on the living room floor despite the lovely round dining table Jimin had recently bought, a habit they’d developed over the past several weeks as they unpacked. Yoongi finished his food first and sat back against the couch, gently rubbing his thumb over the shell of Jimin’s ear, fingers dancing against the nape of his neck until Jimin stopped eating and turned around, eyebrow raised.

He was smiling, though, sweet and lovely, and Yoongi curled his fingers a little more firmly around Jimin’s neck to keep him in place as Yoongi leaned forward and kissed him. Once, twice, until Jimin grinned against his mouth and caught Yoongi’s lip between his teeth, biting down lightly before he soothed the skin with his tongue, breath warm against Yoongi’s cheek.

Yoongi, at nineteen and starting his degree, would never have believed that Yoongi, nearing twenty-seven, would be working his dream job, living in an apartment in his hometown with the love of his life.

Yoongi, nearing twenty-seven, sometimes couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Jimin manoeuvred himself to sit across Yoongi’s lap, looking out of the balcony doors with Yoongi’s forehead pressed against his cheek.

“They’ve started putting some decorations up,” Jimin began lightly, “for Christmas?”

Yoongi hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to Jimin’s skin. “Already? It’s still October.”

“Ah, hyung.” Laughter was caught in Jimin’s throat, a grin curling at his lips as he turned his head to nudge Yoongi’s nose with his own. “They always start this early. They’re even advertising the Christmas market in town.” Jimin pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s upper lip. “How haven’t you seen that?”

“Jimin,” Yoongi said seriously, tightening his arms around Jimin’s waist. “I don’t wake up till I’m in my office.”

Jimin snorted, relaxing further into Yoongi’s hold. “Still,” he said, “it’s Christmas.”

It was quiet for several long moments, and then Jimin shuffled, and when Yoongi didn’t say anything, he made a small, impatient noise.

“What is it, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi asked, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile at bay.

“Nothing,” Jimin said, but his voice was stubborn, steady as he waited for Yoongi to figure it out on his own.

Yoongi pulled back just enough to look at him, taking in the gentle slope of Jimin’s nose and his mouth, pink and slightly pouted, lower lip shining. Unable to help himself, Yoongi lifted a finger to tap against Jimin’s mouth.

“Jimin,” he said, “tell hyung what’s wrong.”

Jimin rolled his eyes away and shrugged. “Nothing.”

Yoongi pursed his lips, knowing better than to push for an answer. They were only halfway through October, but he was sure that the decorations would be coming out in full force soon enough, Christmas culture having grown increasingly over the past couple of years.

Usually, by this time, Jimin would’ve already started making plans with their family and friends about how he was going to spend the holidays, begin shopping and-

Oh, Yoongi thought, of course.

“Do we have anything planned,” he asked, wanting to tease Jimin just a little bit, “for Christmas?”

Jimin shrugged, Yoongi’s fingers dropping from his mouth to curl against his stomach instead. “I don’t know.”

“Any decorations?” he continued. “Do we have a tree?”

Jimin shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Jimin cared more about Christmas traditions than Yoongi did, having more memories associated with the holidays, and though Yoongi didn’t mind if they celebrated the season, he knew that it meant a lot to Jimin.

Yoongi hummed lightly. “You know,” he said quietly, “if you want a tree, all you have to do is ask.”

Jimin kept his gaze fixed outside. “Oh?”

Yoongi sighed audibly, almost a groan, and pressed his forehead to Jimin’s shoulder. “As if you don’t know.”

Hardly a second passed before Jimin laughed, unable to help himself as he doubled over in Yoongi’s lap. “I know,” he said, “I just like hearing you admit it.”

“Brat,” Yoongi said, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, and kissed Jimin’s shoulder before he pulled back, feeling the soft cotton of Jimin’s t-shirt against his mouth.

For a moment, he let himself focus on subtle the rise and fall of Jimin’s chest as he breathed, matched his own breathing until the sound of their exhales mixed together. It was still light outside, and against him, Jimin was beautiful and lovely and warm. 

Jimin was still smiling when he turned to straddle Yoongi’s thighs, cupping Yoongi’s face between his hands as he leaned forward. “Hyung,” he said, voice lilting as he brushed his thumbs over Yoongi’s cheeks. “Hyung.”

Yoongi sighed even as he tilted his head to press a kiss to Jimin’s chin, hands squeezing the sides of Jimin’s thighs. “Yes, baby?”

“Buy me a tree,” he said, “please?”

Yoongi opened his mouth, but Jimin was the one to put a finger to his lips now, scrunching his nose.

“And,” he continued, “some lights. The yellow-looking ones, because they feel like home.” Jimin pulled down on Yoongi’s bottom lip, just slightly. “And tinsel,” he whispered, leaning closer, “some ornaments, too.”

“Is that all?” Yoongi breathed, his hold around Jimin’s waist tightening when Jimin kissed him, slowly, sweetly. For a moment, Yoongi allowed himself to get lost in Jimin’s touch, the way his lips curved upwards even as their mouths worked against each other. Kissing Jimin was familiar, as comfortable as it was exhilarating, even after so many years.

When Jimin pulled back, his voice was soft but no longer teasing.

“It’ll be nice,” he promised. “It’ll be our first Christmas together, just us. We’ll have a tree and lights, and maybe even some mistletoe.”

Yoongi grinned, feeling his cheeks lift. “You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, babe.”

“I want to anyway,” Jimin said, even as he pressed a chaste kiss to Yoongi’s mouth.

Yoongi hummed again, and then nodded, pulled Jimin close enough to kiss the softened curve of his collarbone, tightening his arms around Jimin’s waist. “The tree,” he said, “real or fake?”

Real, hyung,” Jimin huffed, as if exasperated, though his fingers were light as they carded through Yoongi’s hair.

“Of course,” Yoongi said immediately, agreeing. “Real, obviously.”

Jimin snorted, shaking his head so that his hair could tickle Yoongi’s cheek. “I heard there’s a farm nearby,” he began, “like, a tree farm? Someone in class was talking about flyers.”


“Yeah,” Jimin sighed, pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s temple. “I’ll get one for you, hyung.”

Yoongi stayed quiet, didn’t need to say anything more. Instead, he pressed his nose into the dip of skin behind Jimin's ear and breathed him in, feeling the weight of the world ease of his shoulders the moment he inhaled the smell of something sweet, something fresh and familiar.

As Jimin began to hum something thoughtlessly beneath his breath, Yoongi thought he’d go anywhere, and do anything, to keep Jimin this happy.





It took Yoongi a few more days before he could get the chance to visit the farm. Jimin had brought the flyer home at the end of last week, but Yoongi, in the midst of finalising a project, had been unable to cast it a second glance.

The farm was nearly an hour’s drive from the city, just over a half hour from their apartment. He’d just finished a conference call earlier than anticipated, clambering into his car and planning to surprise Jimin with a freshly cooked dinner after a long day of class, when he caught sight of the leaflet beneath a stack of files in the passenger seat.

The information was written in simple black writing printed on green paper, and detailed the location and opening hours of the farm. It was an area he recognised, and Yoongi easily navigated out of the city, tall buildings giving way to smaller shops until the landscape eventually flattened out.

Soon enough, Yoongi was driving on narrow roads surrounded by open, green fields, dark trees standing tall in the distance. Despite the cold weather, the light blue sky that told of the underlying chill in the air, the countryside that spread about him was beautiful. Though he was a city-boy at heart, Yoongi had always loved the freedom that came with being beneath an open sky, the way his breath caught in his throat at the sight of stars flickering in the distance, brighter than any city lights he’d fallen asleep to outside his bedroom window.

That, mixed with thought of Jimin’s face when Yoongi surprised him with all the decorations, was enough to cause warmth to pool in Yoongi’s chest.

Gravel crunched beneath his tyres as Yoongi drove past a small wooden sign, directing him to Kim’s Family Farm. It felt like ages before the weathered wooden exterior of a two-storey barn finally came into view; there were lights strung around the sharp edges of the roof, not yet switched on, and the dark glass of the windows reflected the sun, orange-golden as it touched the line of the far horizon.

There was one other car, parked along the side of the barn, where the road Yoongi was on came to an end. He rolled to a stop beside it, slamming the car door shut behind him as he pulled on his jacket, stuffing the flyer into his pocket.

The air was nippy, but a different sort of cold from the wind tunnels of the city, less sharp but fresh, carrying the smell of pine and wildflowers.

Yoongi walked through the open doors, thankful for the sudden burst of warmth from the heater radiating overhead, hunching his shoulders as if shrugging off the cold trying to seep into his skin. The interior had been clearly recently refurbished, and towering shelves created wide aisles, through which Yoongi could see another set of doors leading out the back of the farm.

“Hello?” he called, walking towards the backdoors and glancing around. When there was no reply, he bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying again, his voice a little louder. “Hello?

Silence, still, and Yoongi sighed. He was regretting the wasted journey, thinking he could’ve been home already with something cooking for Jimin on the stove, when there was a sudden thud behind the counter against the far-left wall. Yoongi startled, unable to help himself, straining a muscle in his neck when he turned towards the noise.

There was a door behind the counter, and it swung open as someone stumbled out in a mess of limbs and brightly coloured tinsel. Yoongi stepped back instinctively, palms raised, half in defence and half to offer some help, when the person straightened.

Yoongi's mouth snapped shut as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

The man stood in front of him was beautiful. Tall, with wide, surprised eyes and a dark cherry mouth, parted in shock. His features were soft, yet he appeared somehow striking, waves in his hair that fell gently around his face, framing his cheekbones. There was something delicate about him, something lovely.

“Um,” Yoongi said, only he had no follow up, a little speechless and a little stunned. He blinked slowly, and then shook his head. His voice, when he spoke, was higher than intended. “Trees?”

The flutter of eyelashes, the pink dusting across golden cheeks. Yoongi felt his mouth dry.

“Sorry,” the man said suddenly, shaking out of his reverie, glancing away as he dumped the tinsel on the counter. “Sorry, I, uh- I didn’t hear anyone come in.”

Yoongi glanced around. “You’re open, right?” He shoved his hand into his pocket to pull out the crumpled flyer.

The man’s eyes flickered down to the paper, lighting up in recognition, then back up to Yoongi’s face. “Yeah, yeah,” he grinned, and the smile softened his face, made him appear younger as his cheeks rounded. “If the doors are open, so are we.”

It was a practiced line, one that made the man cover his face as he apologised through a groan, and made Yoongi purse his lips in an effort to hold back his laughter.

“You know,” Yoongi pointed out, “that someone could’ve come in here, taken something, and left.”

“Without saying hello?” the man said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Not during Christmastime.”

“It’s October.”

“And yet, here you are.”

Yoongi grinned despite himself, disguising his laugh in a snort as he looked down at his shoes.

“Sorry,” the man said, and then he laughed, too. “You said you were looking for trees?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, glancing around the store. “I didn’t realise you had a whole- a whole shop.”

“Gotta have tinsel to go with the trees.” The man leaned forward against the counter, pointedly glancing at the pile he’d dumped, then rested his chin in the cup of his palm, and looked Yoongi up and down, gaze lingering.

Yoongi, feeling slightly flushed, raised an eyebrow. “Ah-”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” the man said suddenly, a slight pinch in his brow.

“And you know everyone, then?”

“Everyone who visits the farm, yeah.” The man nodded. “We’re the biggest tree farm out of the city, everyone who ever comes is usually a regular. We have a summer market, too.”

Yoongi considered him for a moment, the glitter of some tinsel sticking to his hair and how his jumper hung loosely around his frame, a vintage style sweater that reminded Yoongi of his father. He seemed earnest, genuine in a way that Yoongi found himself easily falling into, trusting.

“I haven’t been in Daegu in a while,” Yoongi said finally. “Moved back a few weeks ago for a new job.”

“Oh,” he said, smiling a little more widely. “Welcome home, then.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said, returning the smile with a small grin of his own. His eyes flickered down do the white name-tag attached to the man’s jumper. “Taehyung,” he breathed, eyes flickering over his face, feeling something settle as he let his tongue curl around the letters. “Thank you, Taehyung.”

“If you know my name,” Taehyung said, biting down on his lip as he glanced away, before meeting Yoongi’s gaze again, “I think it’s fair that I know yours.”

It was forward, and Yoongi didn’t owe it to him, but Taehyung was sweet and pretty and for the first time since Yoongi came back to Daegu, hearing Taehyung call it "home" in a low and soft drawl, Yoongi finally felt like it really was.

“Yoongi,” he said quietly. “I’m Yoongi. Hyung, to you, probably.”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung repeated, and then ducked his head. He was silent for a moment, but when he looked up, his cheeks were tinged pink and his smile was surer. “It’s a little early to get a tree, actually,” he began, “you could, I guess, but you’d have to be really attentive. There’s a big risk it could die.”

Yoongi glanced around the store again, catching sight of the field spread out behind the doors. “You have to…water them, right?”

Taehyung nodded, raising his fingers to his mouth in a poor attempt to hide his grin. “Yeah, they need water.”

Yoongi shook his head, shoving the flyer back into his pocket. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep it alive for two months.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung said earnestly. “We hand out flyers early, but people know not to come till December- maybe late November. To get trees, at least.” Taehyung pushed himself up a bit, bracing his hands against the edge of the desk. “We’ve got lots of other stuff here, though. Nothing you need to water.”

“Cute,” Yoongi said, voice dry, but the corner of his lips twitched when Taehyung grinned at him. “You always make fun of new customers, or?”

“Oh,” Taehyung said as he brushed past Yoongi, his voice a humming vibrato that Yoongi felt more than he heard, and picked up a small-sized wicker basket. “Only the pretty ones.”

“Well." Yoongi felt his cheeks warm, and coughed. "Lucky me, then.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Taehyung said, tossing a bright grin over his shoulder. “Do you have any decorations at all?”

Yoongi hummed, then shook his head as he followed Taehyung down the nearest aisle, eyes flickering to the ornaments on either side of him, seemingly sorted by colour and then by style. Taehyung’s fingers were slender and long as he grazed over a couple of baubles fondly, dancing figurines made of glass and hanging from coloured ribbons.

“No,” Yoongi admitted, stopping to reach for a particularly dainty ornament, feeling the light weight of it in his palm. It was a ballet dancer, white glitter dusted over the clothes, and reminded him of Jimin, the strong line of the leg and gentle curve of the waist. Taehyung’s gaze felt heavy on the side of his face. “Haven’t really had time to go out shopping, so this is my first trip out."

Taehyung clicked his tongue, understanding, and then gently took the ornament from Yoongi’s hands to place it in the basket.

Yoongi’s brow furrowed. “Oh, I—”

“You were holding it so nicely,” Taehyung said, still somewhat teasing, though his expression was kind. “You’ll give it a safe home.”

“I don’t know if I was planning on buying anything today,” Yoongi said after a moment, feeling heat creep up his neck and bloom beneath the skin of his cheeks when Taehyung continued to look at him. “I just came to glance around, really,” he said, “maybe get a tree, but- well.”

Taehyung tilted his head to the side and shrugged. “It’s just bad for business if I let you walk out the store empty handed.”

Yoongi grinned. “Right,” he said, “because leaving the storefront unattended was such a great move.”

There was a beat of silence as a myriad of expressions flashed across Taehyung’s face, momentary embarrassment fading behind a sheepish grin, and then Taehyung forced a frown as he turned on his heel and began to walk down another aisle.

“I’m going to put only the most expensive things in your basket now,” Taehyung said, stopping before an array of Christmas lights and tapping a finger against his mouth as he looked over them. Yoongi stopped beside him, biting the inside of his cheek when he realised that everything was already quite fairly priced.

“I like the warm light,” Yoongi commented, nodding his head to some dainty lights glowing as an example on the display above them, small glass stars covering the tiny yellow bulbs. He thought of Jimin, and the words he’d said when they first started spending Christmas together, and every Christmas since. “It feels more homely.”

Taehyung turned to him with wide smile. “I do, too,” he said as he reached for a pack of two hundred, then a smaller string of fifty. “I think it makes everything a little more magical. The blue ones always feel cold, or, I think so, anyway.”

Yoongi thought of Jimin, and thought he and Taehyung would get along very well.

“So!” Taehyung clapped his hands together, and Yoongi followed his gaze down to the basket, which now held a couple of ornaments he didn’t remember picking himself, but didn’t have the heart to take out, either, alongside the lights. “Is that all?”

Yoongi huffed out a laugh. “You tell me.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed as he seriously considered Yoongi’s answer, and then he shrugged. “Can’t get you decorations for a tree you don’t have, I guess.” Then, with the tips of his ears red, he said, “gives you another reason to come back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, ignoring the flutter in his chest for the sudden widening of Taehyung’s eyes as he registered what he’d said. “You always flirt with your customers?” he asked, an echo of his earlier question.

Taehyung stumbled over his words before taking several long strides back to the counter. Yoongi would worry he’d overstepped if he hadn’t seen the smile flit over Taehyung’s face as he turned, or the small glare he shot Yoongi over his shoulder. It was clear he'd been flirting, and wasn't trying too hard to be subtle about it.

Yoongi couldn’t say he minded.

He didn’t think Jimin would, either.

It was silent as Taehyung scanned the handful of items he’d picked for Yoongi, delicately placing everything in a brown paper bag. When he finally answered, his voice was so quiet beneath the rustle of paper that Yoongi almost missed it.

“Only the pretty ones.”

Yeah, Yoongi thought to himself, Jimin would like him a lot.





The next time Yoongi visited the farm was only a handful of days later, no longer than a week, and he made his way straight to the counter, tapping loudly until Taehyung stumbled out, a smile widening on his face the moment he caught sight of Yoongi waiting.

“We still don’t have trees,” Taehyung said lightly, teasing, but there was a light blush to his cheeks.

Yoongi pursed his lips, jerking his head as he gestured with his thumb to the door. “Guess I’ll go,” he said, though he made no move to leave.

Blushing, Taehyung ducked his head and scratched behind his neck, glancing at Yoongi through the fringe of his hair before he stepped around the counter. “Can’t let you leave empty-handed,” Taehyung said quietly, and neither of them made to call out the excuse for what it really was.

Yoongi had been worried, that the slight spark he’d felt in the air, the wonderful buzz of static that had built beneath his skin the first time they met, was one-sided. Or perhaps, that it’d been temporary, and that it would fade upon seeing each other again. He was more relieved than he knew how to express when the same feeling crept upon him as Taehyung smiled.

Just like last time, Taehyung picked up a small basket and began leading Yoongi down the aisles. Just like last time, Yoongi followed him.

Taehyung put a handful of ornaments in Yoongi’s basket, red baubles with gloss and matte and glitter finishes. He teased and he blushed and he laughed, and Yoongi felt warmth pool in his veins, heart stuttering just slightly. Just enough to matter.

This time, when Taehyung began to scan Yoongi’s items, Yoongi decided it was his turn to be bold.

“Do you have a number I could call?” he asked.

The bauble Taehyung was holding nearly slipped from his hands. “A number?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, pretending not to notice, “for the trees.”

When Taehyung looked up at Yoongi, he was biting the inside of his cheek. It was clear he didn’t believe Yoongi’s reason at all. “Just for the trees?”

Yoongi shrugged, voice light when he asked, “Can you think of anything else?”

Instead of replying, Taehyung focused on wrapping the baubles in bubblewrap before he placed them in the bag. His cheeks were pink, and he was biting down so hard on his lower lip the skin was almost white, and Yoongi curled his hands in his pockets and waited patiently.

“I can give you mine, maybe,” Taehyung said, voice almost trembling. Yoongi forced himself not to reach out and soothe the skin of Taehyung’s cheek.

Instead, Yoongi nodded. “Yeah,” he said gently, “your number would be good.”

There was a grin that was threatening to break out on Taehyung’s face that he was making no effort to conceal, and he scribbled a mobile number on the back of Yoongi’s receipt the moment it rolled out of the printer. Yoongi took the bag, and the paper, from him, and lingered just a moment when their fingers brushed.

“I’ll text you,” Yoongi said, promised, and watched hesitation flicker over Taehyung’s expression before he jerked his head, once, in a quick nod. “I’ll—"

“It doesn’t—” Taehyung interrupted suddenly, “it doesn’t just have to be for the trees. You can, um, you can text me for whatever else, too.”

Smiling, wide enough that Yoongi could feel his eyes crinkle, he agreed. “Yeah,” he said softly, “okay. I’ll do that.”





As the days passed, the inside of Yoongi’s car was beginning to look like a shop of its own.

He wanted to make sure Jimin would be surprised, to come home one day and see everything already set up, glowing and perfect. Unfortunately, Jimin was usually home by the time Yoongi returned from work, and if Yoongi did manage to sneak in his growing collection of decorations, there was a high chance Jimin would stumble upon them during his weekly clean. So, Yoongi continued to keep everything in his car.

And, he continued to go back to the tree farm.

The third time he’d visited was after a string of texts that varied from questions about their favourite holiday memories, to sweeter, childhood ones.

do you go visit your parents? (not often, we’re a working family), do you have any siblings? (a brother, older. i look up to him a lot), i think we could be good friends, hyung (i think we could, too).

He’d walked through the open barn doors only to hear Taehyung’s voice, deep and startlingly familiar, showing a set of life-size light-up reindeer to a little girl clutching her mother’s hand.

“-move slowly, okay? Reindeer are really shy, so if you move too quick before getting to know them, you might scare them off.”

“These reindeer can’t move!” the girl said, sounding indignant, but she was looking at the twinkling lights twisted around the wire frame of the animal with wide eyes, like she didn’t want to believe her own words.

“Oh!” Taehyung grinned, lowering himself into a crouch and putting his hand to the back of the reindeer’s neck. A moment later, the head dipped down, towards the girl, who slapped her hands over her mouth to quiet a loud gasp. She looked from the animal to her mother, and then back to Taehyung, eyes sparkling.

“Dasher here and I are friends,” Taehyung said in a stage whisper, moving his hand over the back ridges of the deer fixture, as though he were petting it, as though it were real. “You want to pet him?”

The girl looked up at her mother again, who smiled as she nodded, nudging her daughter forward. She reached up with a tentative hand, fingers grazing over the reindeer’s snout, and giggled when it dipped its head down again.

“He likes you,” Taehyung said, laughing, and that was when he looked around and saw Yoongi watching from just inside the entrance.

His mouth popped open as he scrambled to his feet.

“Move slow!” the girl reprimanded. “You’ll scare him off!”

Taehyung blushed. "Right, of course, you’re right.” He offered the deer an apology pat, and Yoongi couldn’t stop the grin from breaking out across his face. “Just let me know if you need any help.”

He bowed as he walked past the mother and daughter, now mumbling to the animal as she pet it, and then came to a stop in front of Yoongi, smiling. “Welcome back,” Taehyung said, gesturing to the store behind him. “See? Attended to.”

“I do see that,” Yoongi said, “finally.” He nodded towards the girl. “Very cute.”

“It’s still too early to get a tree,” Taehyung sighed, putting his hands on his hips, a variation of the same thing he’d told Yoongi the last two times he’d visited. “You know that, right?”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “I need tinsel.”

“For what tree, hyung?”

“Quit teasing your customers out of business,” Yoongi said as he followed Taehyung deeper into the barn. Now that familiarity had been established over text, boundaries between them broken quicker than they would have been if they'd relied on these meetings alone, Yoongi found himself relaxed as he joked with Taehyung, settled and comfortable in a way he often was only with his dearest friends.

“You keep coming back, though,” Taehyung said with a grin. “You’re telling me it’s only for the décor?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Yoongi huffed, brushing past Taehyung to pick up the basket himself.

It was a lie, and they both knew it.

So, it hadn’t been much of a surprise when Yoongi’s visits became more regular, and their texts grew more frequent. It hadn’t been much of a surprise when friendship turned into fondness, turned into something close to smitten.

The thing was, Taehyung made it easy.

With the vintage knit of his sweaters, always different and usually Christmas themed, and the sweet curve of his lips when they thinned out with his grin. With the deep timbre of his voice and the soft rolling sound of his laughter, the pine needles stuck in his hair and the golden glow of his skin, as he stood in the corner wrapped in a hundred-foot string of rainbow fairy lights.

“I was fixing a bulb!” he’d exclaimed as Yoongi doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach and feeling his heart swell with something wonderful.

Taehyung made it easy, and made the world around him enchanting.

As October bled into November, and the air grew colder and the seasons changed, Taehyung became someone Yoongi found himself seeking out more often. Whether it was wandering aimlessly around the store whilst other staff attended to customers, walking together with the excuse of buying more decorations, or sending each other silly Christmas memes over Yoongi’s lunch breaks, Taehyung was becoming someone important.

That, above all else, was what pushed Yoongi to promise himself to finally speak to Jimin. Not immediately, otherwise Yoongi would have to reveal how they met, about the barn and the decorations and the tree, but soon.

He really liked Taehyung, in a way he hadn’t liked someone in a long time, and he hoped that Jimin would, too.





Yoongi was plating the stir-fry when Jimin stepped out of the shower, skin flushed and hair still damp, a towel draped behind his neck and the sleeves of his t-shirt pushed up to his elbows. He made a soft sound, smiling, when Jimin wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist and tucked his face between Yoongi’s shoulder blades.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, dropping one hand to Jimin’s wrist, rubbing his thumb lightly over the veins of Jimin’s skin.

Jimin nodded, breathing slow, and Yoongi could feel the warmth of his breath even through the fabric of his shirt. “Just tired.”

Yoongi hummed, and pulled away just enough to turn around and cradle Jimin’s face in his hands, kissing his forehead, the corner of his eyebrow, the small curve of his smiling mouth.

They ate slowly, more concerned about being close, enjoying time together, than they were about the food, and eventually Yoongi gave up trying to eat just so he could hold Jimin close, breathe in the slightly heavy scent of berries that clung to Jimin’s skin, sweet and sharp from the shower gel he used.

“How’s uni?” he asked eventually, sighing into the kiss Jimin pressed to the corner of his lips. “How’s class?”

Jimin nodded. “It’s good,” he said lightly, taking Yoongi’s hand in his own to tangle their fingers, turning and twisting their hands because he always liked how they looked together. “I think I’ll be able to catch up on all my credits.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, happy and content, and raised their hands to kiss the back of Jimin’s palm. He didn’t ask anything else, could already see the words building on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, and stayed quiet, let the rise and falls of their chests sync.

“I met someone pretty amazing, though,” Jimin began quietly, “he's called V, I think?”

Yoongi pulled his head back, brow furrowing. “V?” he said, and then, “you think?”

Jimin laughed as he exhaled, shaking his head as he scrunched his nose. “We meet every morning for coffee,” he said, “it’s the name on his cup. We don’t share any classes, but he’s really great.”

Yoongi smiled, expression softening. “I’m glad.”

“He’s really nice, actually,” Jimin continued thoughtfully, “and funny. He studies art and he’s always covered in paint, or something just as messy.” Yoongi felt himself still at the tone of Jimin’s voice, recognised it, and realised that Jimin may have been mentioning V for more reasons than just simple friendship.

For one sudden, desperate moment, Yoongi thought of telling Jimin about Taehyung – but it was still too soon, would ruin the surprise Yoongi had worked hard to keep secret. Yoongi hummed, but stayed quiet, chastising himself for jumping to conclusions. They’d been together long enough, been through enough together, that Yoongi knew if Jimin wanted to say something more, suggest anything else, then he’d do so directly.

“I think you’d like him,” Jimin said quietly, as if thoughtless, and then shrugged as he relaxed completely in Yoongi’s hold.

Yoongi swallowed around a lump in his throat. “I’ll have to meet him someday, then.”

Jimin nodded, but didn’t say anything, turning the volume on the laptop louder so that he could finally refocus on the film they’d been watching as they ate, and then tilted his face to kiss Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi smiled before he could help himself, and turned to kiss Jimin properly, slowly, and the thoughts that had been building in his mind slipped, easily, the moment he heard Jimin gasp.

He could worry later. For now, he had Jimin.




A few years ago, after they’d been dating long enough to feel secure in their relationship, they tried to involve a third person.

It hadn’t worked out.

People often said they were okay with how things were, until they were made to adapt. Jihoon had liked Yoongi, but he’d loved Jimin, and there was an imbalance that became apparent, slowly and then all at once.

It had been in subtle things at first, in the way Jihoon would insist on Jimin sleeping in the middle so that he’d never have to wake up next to Yoongi himself, or how he’d remember Jimin’s complex coffee order compared to Yoongi’s simple one. Then, there had been the more obvious things, like the time Jihoon had planned a birthday dinner for Jimin and ‘forgotten’ to make a third reservation for Yoongi. Like the day he’d suggested they visit his family for the holidays, but insisted that Yoongi didn’t need to come, too.

The moment Jihoon had asked Jimin to be exclusive, it had been over.

Yoongi had loved Jihoon, but Jimin, who initially had broached the topic, quietly asking Yoongi in the darkness of their room if he “could ever love more than one person at the same time?”, had been distraught after the breakup. He’d taken on Yoongi’s pain more than Yoongi had himself, and with it, he’d also taken the blame.

It was a dumb idea, Jimin had said, curled and sniffling against Yoongi’s chest. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

Then, later, when the heartbreak was a fading, but still tender bruise, “I thought he loved us both."

And Yoongi had been hurt, yes, but not hopeless. The words he’d whispered back to Jimin had been nothing short of sure and true.

“It’s okay,” he’d said, “he wasn’t the right person.”

There had been the suggestion that someday, somewhere, someone would be.

As Yoongi got to know Taehyung better, he became more convinced that he’d finally found them. He knew Jimin would adore him, that Jimin, so full of love and affection, deserved someone who would so readily give it as Taehyung did. He also knew that Jimin was wary to let someone close again, despite his clearly growing care for V, and that it came from a place of not only wanting to protect himself, but to protect Yoongi, too.

Yoongi himself didn’t want to bring someone into their life who would leave again, who’d make them fall in love only to let them go because they, or one of them, wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t right.

He didn’t want to hurt Jimin.

He didn’t want to hurt Taehyung, either.

With Jimin, Yoongi knew he had to wait to bring Taehyung up, but with Taehyung, Yoongi didn’t mention Jimin because usually, when someone mentioned they had a boyfriend, it meant not interested and door closed. Yoongi didn’t want that door leading him—leading him and Jimin, possibly, hopefully—to Taehyung, to shut.





December arrived, and with it, two text messages halfway through the workday. Both were simple, yet the names both spread warmth through his body, through his blood.


                Jimin [1 new message]

                Taehyung [1 new message]


Yoongi tugged the phone closer to him and opened up Jimin’s, felt his lips curl automatically at the thought of his love and his home.



                i’m going out tonight!! :D



                come get your tree, hyung!


He texted Jimin back first, saying okay and have fun and I love you. Then, still smiling, he texted Taehyung, I’ll see you soon.




“So,” Taehyung said, breath ghosting in a white cloud as they walked towards the grove of trees about two hundred yards in the distance. He was pulling a sled, adamantly refusing to let Yoongi help, the equipment he needed to saw and tie the tree down resting on the wooden panels. Yoongi almost missed Taehyung’s question by how effortlessly Taehyung was moving, as if he could hardly feel the additional weight behind him. “How long have you been with them?”

Yoongi nearly stopped short, tripping but managing to play it off like he was taking a couple of short steps. “With- what?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder. He didn’t look bothered, if not a touch withdrawn. “The person you moved here with. I figure, this tree and stuff isn’t just for you, you know? And it’s just collecting in your car, so I just—” He blinked. “Am I wrong?”

“Ah, no, it’s- almost five years.” Yoongi said, after a beat. “We met at uni.”

Taehyung nodded, more to himself than anything else, and continued walking. “That’s sweet,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it, like he wasn’t surprised that Yoongi was dating someone, just cared that Yoongi was happy.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmured, and then, “he is.”

You’d think so, too.

He hadn’t liked the look in Taehyung’s eye, though. Yoongi didn’t want the confirmation of his relationship to mean that whatever he and Taehyung had – the lightness, the laughter and the teasing – needed to stop. He picked up his pace, just enough to knock his shoulder against Taehyung’s, and let a small sigh of relief when Taehyung, after a moment of hesitation, smiled.

A couple of minutes later, Taehyung curled his fingers lightly around Yoongi’s wrist to veer them sharply to the left, headed straight for a specific row of fluffy, green firs labeled Canaan. He didn’t let go until they stopped in front of a relatively mid-sized tree, a little bit taller than Taehyung himself, with lush green needles for leaves and a sturdy looking trunk.

“I’m guessing your apartment isn’t very tall,” Taehyung said, and it took Yoongi a moment to realize Taehyung was taking a dig at his height, smacking him four seconds too late. Taehyung was doubled over in laughter, batting Yoongi’s hand away from his head as he shouted, “I’m teasing. I’m teasing!”

It was nice, and the air between them hadn’t changed now that Taehyung knew Yoongi had a boyfriend. Taehyung was still acting like himself, smiling the same with his soft doe-eyes, filling Yoongi with a warmth that reminded him of pockets of sudden sunshine on cold days.

Jimin was the only other person that had ever made Yoongi feel that way.

It was amazing, that despite how similar Yoongi’s affection for them was, the reasons he cared about them were so distinct. Yoongi had fallen for Jimin’s laughter and loudness, laced with an undeniable loveliness that managed to leave Yoongi feeling breathless even years later, and he continued to love Jimin as Jimin grew quieter and more gentle, in ways that inevitably came with maturity and contentment and age. With Taehyung, Yoongi found himself endeared by Taehyung’s sweet smile and shy boldness, how he’d bloomed into someone kind and teasing and gorgeous in the past two months they’d known each other.

They were both like pieces of Yoongi he hadn’t realised he’d been missing, hadn’t realised he yearned for until he found them.

Jimin was the love of his life. Slowly, over time, Yoongi had begun to think Taehyung could be another.

“Now, stand back and watch, pretty,” Taehyung said, and Yoongi blushed so hot he knew Taehyung could see it, could tell by the grin he aimed Yoongi’s way before he got a solid grip on the saw and crouched down by the trunk to begin felling the tree.

The air was cold where it breezed over Yoongi’s skin, and he tucked his nose behind his scarf as he tried to will away the pink of his cheeks.

“You’ll have to find things to need me for that aren’t Christmas related,” Taehyung said over the noise of metal cutting through wood. “I’ll be sad if I don’t see you until next year.”

Yoongi watched him for a minute, the broad line of his shoulders moving under knitted navy as he worked the saw back and forth. His voice was soft when he responded, “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Taehyung shot him a smile through the needles. “I’m glad. Can you stand back a couple more feet? Even a tree this small might crush you if it lands wrong.”

Yoongi eyed the tree, modestly sized, and highly doubted the truth behind that statement. “You’re a brat.”

Taehyung laughed from under the branches. “You like it.”

And Yoongi did.

So, biting down on his cheeks to keep himself from smiling, Yoongi rolled his eyes and suggested that Taehyung come help to set the tree up.

It shouldn’t have surprised him, how easily Taehyung agreed.





They hooked the tree on top of Yoongi’s car, and Taehyung told Yoongi to go ahead, that he’d not be too far behind, he just needed to close up the shop first.

The apartment was dark and quiet when Yoongi came home, and it took him a good thirty minutes to carry up everything he’d gotten from the barn, from the first ornament Taehyung had dropped into his basket to the tied up evergreen now lying on its side in the far corner, near the balcony. He was trying to figure out if he should put out food or not when there was a tentative knock on the front door.

Yoongi shut the fridge and made his way down the hall, taking a quick breath before he pulled the door open.

Taehyung was hugging the neck of the light-up lawn reindeer Dasher to his body, and when his eyes landed on Yoongi, he grinned through the wire antlers.

“I brought a friend,” Taehyung said, wiggling the deer and glancing behind Yoongi with genuine curiosity. “This is a nice apartment, hyung. Is that a balcony?”

Yoongi grinned, widely enough that Taehyung looked a little perplexed, and nodded. “Come on,” he said, stepping aside so Taehyung could slip past him, locking the door before he followed Taehyung into the main living area.

As Taehyung glanced over the room, Yoongi glanced over him. He’d changed sweaters, wearing something deep green with gold stitching sparkling through some of the threads, on the sleeve and the collar.

“So, we’re on a time crunch, aren’t we?” Taehyung said, looking around appraisingly, as though he were already planning where to put what. “You want it all up and done before midnight?”

“We can stretch a little later,” Yoongi said, knowing Jimin sometimes didn’t get home until two or three on a good night. “Not that- I mean god, you don’t have to stay that late-”

“Hyung,” Taehyung said, back tracking a little and setting down Dasher on the other side of the kitchen counter, “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to.” He waved the reindeer plug at Yoongi. “Now. Where are your extension cords?”

After a brief tour, it didn’t take long for Taehyung to get comfortable moving around the apartment, gold tinsel already wrapped around his neck and a garland weighted with lights and baubles draped over his shoulders. It took even less time for Yoongi to get used to the sight of Taehyung weaving between packages as he navigated around the coffee-table, shifting things for the sake of decorating, like it was his home, too.

“Look mister architect,” Taehyung said, waving a stick of holly at Yoongi when Yoongi said he, “didn’t have a preference ” on traditional rainbow twinkle lights versus LEDs. “I get this isn’t finding the tibia of a brontosaurus, but-”

“I don't—oh my god, you brat,” Yoongi said, grabbing the nearest soft object, which happened to be a penguin plush, and chucking it at Taehyung, who caught it and cradled it to his chest protectively. Taehyung bit back a grin when Yoongi rolled his eyes and lifted the tree stand to inspect it.

“I got you one without screws,” Taehyung said with a muffled laugh, and Yoongi realized he was making a face at the contraption.

“But not one with a needs water indicator.”

“Guess you’ll just have to pay attention,” Taehyung said. “Or just send me a picture of the tree every day so I can tell you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling. “You almost done with those lights? Let’s get this thing standing.”

“Just a second,” Taehyung said, and Yoongi hummed in reply as he glanced from the tree stand to the balcony door, immediately to his left.

Yoongi thought that it would be a good spot to have the tree right beside the window, the edges of it visible from the outside if they kept the blinds open, so the lights and the baubles would twinkle and glitter in the evening as people passed by on the street below.

“Okay,” Taehyung said, interrupting Yoongi’s musings, “what do you think?”

Yoongi rested the tree stand back on the floor, nodding to himself, and then turned.

Taehyung had focused his initial efforts on the kitchen, and in the span of ten minutes, he’d managed to transform it completely. Lights were taped to the top and the underside of the cabinets lining the walls, casting a yellow glow on the countertops and spreading against the ceiling. Besides the sink, he’d placed a small, pre-lit Christmas tree and hung a few bright green wreaths over the front two cabinets on either side of the dishwasher, embedded with dainty lights that seemed to shimmer in the dark.

Taehyung stood in the middle of it all, hugging a wire angel figurine to his chest, looking around at his handiwork with a small purse to his lips. He’d shut the kitchen lights off, to show the full effect of the lights, which ended up casting him in a pretty gold glow that reflected off his cheekbones and brightened his eyes.

Yoongi curled his fingers beneath the cuffs of his sleeves.

“It’s beautiful,” Yoongi said, and with the way Taehyung cut his eyes to his, Yoongi thought something in his voice had given him away, just a little.

Taehyung put the angel down on the counter opposite the sink, swinging out of the kitchen and making his way over to Yoongi. He looked flustered, but pleased, and crouched on the other side of the tree, placing his hands over the netting holding the branches as he looked up at Yoongi. “Still got a way to go,” he said thoughtfully, but he was smiling.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not too worried,” he admitted, more boldly than he felt, “with you here.”

Taehyung secured his hands on the branches, pink dusting his cheeks, and glanced back down. “Let’s get her up again, hyung.”

It was less complicated than Yoongi thought it would be to get the tree upright, but that was mostly because Taehyung had years of practice behind him, expertly arranging the branches so that all the leaves spread out evenly, and no gaps could be seen to expose the trunk.

Then, Taehyung made Yoongi adhere to a strict system he had for decorating the tree, watching Yoongi with a critical eye. First, the lights were draped around, then the tinsel, and then decorative garlands of golden balls the size of garden peas drooping between the branches. He left Yoongi in charge of arranging the baubles on the lower half of the tree while he perfected the upper half, though not before making several jokes about how he was doing it for Yoongi’s sake, what with it possibly being too difficult for him to reach.

Yoongi could probably have done an alright job at decorating alone – he did have an eye for things, with his job requiring him to think about both practicality and comfort. He could’ve gotten the lights strung artistically enough, made the tree up in gold and red, wreaths and garlands hanging along the walls, and it would’ve looked nice enough.

But Taehyung made it seem like an art, one that he’d perfected.

The kitchen already looked wonderful, but now with the main room decorated, Yoongi felt like he’d been transported into a wonderland of light and colour. The best thing was, nothing felt like too much, nothing felt too perfect. The lights were soft in their radiance, the greenery and foliage tastefully placed, and despite how much effort they’d put into it, Taehyung had co-ordinated everything in such a manner that the decorations looked simple and sweet.

Yoongi’s heart stuttered at the thought of Jimin’s smile when he arrived home to see everything, at the sight of Taehyung stood on the balcony as he perfected the string of lights woven around the metal railing.

“Okay,” Taehyung said, clapping his hands together as he stepped back inside the warmth of the apartment, closing the balcony door behind him and startling Yoongi out of his reverie. “Now we just need to—”

He was cut off from saying anything more when the front door swung open, Jimin sweeping inside with a loud exhale. Taehyung’s hands were still clasped together, eyes wide, and Yoongi’s mouth had fallen open in surprise.

The Christmas songs playing from the wireless speakers Yoongi kept on the television cabinet were the only source of noise between them, as Jimin’s eyes darted between Taehyung and Yoongi, and then at the decorations surrounding them. He looked beautiful, as always, bundled up in a duffel coat, nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold, obvious even in the dim light.

Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered as he adjusted to the dark, and his mouth opened and closed soundlessly, a tell of how overwhelmed he was. The words, when he found them, spilled from his mouth in a sudden stream.

What,” he said, glancing between them, taking an aborted step forward. “It looks- it’s so beautifulYoongi, I didn’t even-” Jimin’s voice cut off as he laughed, shrugging his coat off onto the couch before he threw himself into Yoongi, arms wrapping around Yoongi’s shoulders, smile pressed against Yoongi’s neck. “I can’t believe you.”

Yoongi’s arms had wrapped around Jimin’s waist, reactionary, and he barely had time to squeeze Jimin back before Jimin pulled away, only to pull Taehyung into an embrace of their own. There was a familiarity between them, so easy to tell in the subtle relaxing of Taehyung’s shoulders, the way Jimin’s smile didn’t falter for even a moment when Taehyung hesitated to hug Jimin back.

“Baby,” Yoongi said, just as Taehyung breathed, sounding shocked, “Jimin?”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped to Taehyung’s, who looked equally as surprised as him, as Jimin stepped back from the hug to come back to Yoongi’s side, intertwining their fingers easily.

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed, lower lip pinched between his teeth as he finally said, “Yoongi-hyung’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah!” Jimin said, nodding, reaching up to press a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek before he reached out for Taehyung’s arm with his other hand. “I can’t believe you’ve met. How did you-?”

“Taehyung owns the tree farm,” Yoongi said, finding his voice even though his mouth felt dry. “I’ve been—”

“Yoongi-hyung’s been coming to visit for the past—god,” Taehyung sighed, scratching the back of his neck, “two months, maybe?”

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “remember that—”

Jimin, who’d been glancing between them, suddenly pursed his mouth. “Wait,” he said, “Taehyung?”

There was a sudden lull in conversation, and Yoongi, heart racing, a spark ignited beneath his skin, sighed and closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s hair. Something in his chest trembled, and his breath was shaking, and he realised that the feeling thrumming in his blood was something close to hope.

“Let’s sit down,” he murmured, loud enough for Taehyung to hear, “I’ll get us some drinks.”





Jimin and Taehyung were curled together on the couch, postures relaxed and comfortable, laughing quietly. The sight of them together was everything Yoongi had imagined, and more.

He handed them their mugs of tea before sitting beside Jimin, steadying his own drink on his thigh with one hand as his arm draped over the back of the couch. Jimin shifted to press himself more firmly into Yoongi’s side, toes curling beneath Taehyung’s thigh. If Yoongi wanted to, he could reach out with his fingers to play with the wavy strands of Taehyung’s hair.

There were several questions trapped beneath his tongue, could imagine there were even more caught in the roof of Taehyung’s mouth, but they weren’t in any rush. It was nice, to feel so content and settled, to slip into silence so easily, without any worries or concerns. Jimin hummed as he took a mouthful of his drink, and Yoongi pressed an absent kiss to his hair.

Surprisingly, Taehyung was the first to distill the quiet.

“Um,” he began, shy like he’d been when Yoongi had visited him again, eyes flickering between them. “You’re both, um—”

“Yoongi-hyung is my boyfriend,” Jimin said easily, and Yoongi didn’t have to look away from Taehyung to hear the smile in Jimin’s voice. “For five years, actually. We met—”

“At uni,” Taehyung said wondrously, smile soft, tapping his nails against the side of his mug. It wasn’t quite clear whether he knew because Yoongi had told him, or because Jimin had. “Yeah.” His eyes stayed on Yoongi, held his gaze, even as he reached out to brush over the back of Jimin’s foot when he tucked it further beneath Taehyung’s leg.

“Taehyung and I met at the tree farm,” Yoongi said, looking away from Taehyung when Jimin tilted his head towards Yoongi questioningly. “I’ve been storing Christmas shit in my car for, um, two months, probably.”

Jimin smiled a little wider, leaned further into Yoongi so he could kiss the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, lingering just a little, and Yoongi didn’t miss how Taehyung’s gaze darkened, even as his ears turned pink.

“You’re sweet, hyung,” Jimin whispered softly, like a secret, but loud enough for Taehyung to hear. Yoongi could feel Jimin’s lips curve against his cheek when Taehyung sniffed quietly and looked away, giving them a semblance of privacy.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Yoongi admitted, thumb stroking against Jimin’s hip over the fabric of his sweater. “Taehyung helped. He even saved us the best tree.”

“Oh?” Jimin asked, teasing, and Taehyung blushed, eyes wide as he looked back up at them.

“That’s not true—”

“So I wasn’t your favourite customer?” Yoongi asked, grinning, wanting to pull Taehyung back into his teasing, wanting to let Taehyung know he didn’t have to hold himself back or act any differently.

There was a pause, a silence that lasted the length of a heartbeat as Taehyung seemed to deliberate over his answer, before he huffed and rolled his eyes, looking back at Jimin with a forcibly tired expression.

“He was,” Taehyung breathed, the corner of his mouth twitching, “the worst customer. Ever.”

Jimin snorted, sitting up as not to spill his drink, curling one knee beneath him as he did.

Um, actually—” Yoongi began, only for Taehyung to ignore him.

“He was so demanding,” Taehyung continued, nodding seriously as he grew more confident, leaning forward like he was sharing a secret. “He wasn’t happy with anything.”

Yoongi spluttered, “Taehyung—”

And,” Taehyung said, and Yoongi narrowed his eyes in faux frustration when Jimin glanced over his shoulder, grin wide and dimple deep in his cheek, “for someone whose job it is to find cool, old stuff, he always picked the ugliest, most antique looking ornaments?” Taehyung sighed then, looking solemnly down at his drink as he shook his head. “They must have reminded him of the fossils, and, like, the bones and stuff, you know?”

Jimin laughed so hard he fell forward, and Yoongi, on principle, said, “I’m not a fucking archaeologist.”

“Okay,” Jimin said breathlessly, cheeks pink, Taehyung grinning at Yoongi over his head, “just- just keep telling yourself that, babe—” His hand rested on Taehyung’s thigh as he tried to steady himself, and his breath hitched when Yoongi’s fingers, still curled around his waist, pressed a little harder, teasingly, into his skin.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the fondness from his expression, and continued to finish his tea as Jimin’s laughter eased, shifting so that his thigh was pressed a little more firmly against Taehyung’s, settling back into the cushions so he could easily look at Taehyung and Yoongi both.

Jimin’s eyes were bright, smile wide, when he reached out to take Taehyung’s hand.

“Hyung,” Jimin said, nodding at Yoongi, “this is V.”

Yoongi had guessed as much, but still let a small oh passed from his mouth, and bit the inside of his cheek when Taehyung perked up, voice wavering uncertainly even as he smiled. “You told Yoongi-hyung about me?”

Jimin nodded, beginning to tell Taehyung just how often he’d spoken to Yoongi, and slowly, slowly, the pieces fell into place. It made sense, in some strange and miraculous way, that the person Yoongi found himself falling for was the same one that Jimin, on the other side of the city, had been falling for, too.

Taehyung, V, was someone Jimin met with every morning before his classes at uni. He’d never given his name, using V for ease to collect his coffee orders when his drinks had been mistakenly given to someone else one too many times, and Jimin had never thought to ask.

Taehyung, V, was pretty and funny, smart and quiet, and he made Jimin laugh. Apparently, Yoongi would adore him.

Yoongi couldn’t say Jimin was wrong.

They still had to talk about it, of course they did, because Jimin hadn’t even known Yoongi was interested in someone else, had spoken often about V, and with increasing frequency as the weeks had passed, but Yoongi was filled with an incomprehensible amount of relief, that maybe, just maybe, this would work out.

“I can’t believe I’ve been calling you the wrong name all this time,” Jimin said, lips pursed and brow furrowed.

Taehyung laughed. “It didn’t really come up,” he said, and his eyes tracked the movement of Yoongi’s fingers as they tucked a strand of Jimin’s hair back behind his ear. “I can’t believe that you two- that I—”

Taehyung cut himself off, cheeks suddenly blooming pink as he looked around the twinkling lights of the apartment, scratching lightly behind his ear.

Jimin glanced at Yoongi, who was already looking at Taehyung, and then smiled when, without looking away, Yoongi nodded, slight and short.

“Taehyung,” Jimin said gently, as though he was tasting the name on his tongue. Yoongi swallowed dryly as he heard Taehyung’s name pass from Jimin’s mouth, and then felt something hot and sweet trickle down his spine when Jimin leaned into Taehyung’s side, forcing Taehyung’s arm to curve around Jimin’s shoulders.

Taehyung, eyes glittering and smile small, didn’t hold Jimin in place, but simply held him.

“You’re warm,” Jimin sighed, knocking his knee with Yoongi’s in a silent request for Yoongi to curl his hand over the curve of Jimin’s thigh. “You smell like Christmas.”

Taehyung’s laugh seemed to slip out, unbidden, and Yoongi wasn’t sure when they’d become closer, only that when he met Taehyung’s gaze again, Taehyung’s eyes dropped down to his lips. It would be easy, Yoongi realised, so unfairly easy, to lean forward and kiss Taehyung until the pink in his cheeks gave way to red, until Jimin uncurled between them to press his mouth under Taehyung’s jaw, then Yoongi’s, then back to the colour in Taehyung’s cheeks.

Taehyung’s fingers tightened where they were curled around Jimin’s arm, and he looked away, shy. Jimin was watching them both, quietly, and Yoongi could tell he’d been holding his breath.

Yoongi exhaled, slow, and then balanced his mug between his thighs so he could reach out and, allowing his fingers to scrape lightly over the skin of Taehyung’s temple, tuck a strand of hair back behind Taehyung’s ear, too.

Taehyung flinched at the touch, but his shoulders relaxed almost immediately, and his thumb stroked a firm line down Jimin’s arm as he looked back to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

The living room suddenly flooded with an echo of light as the apartment opposite turned their lights on, the curtains still tied back from the balcony doors. The yellow radiance of the lights around them became slightly muted beneath the sudden silver-blue haze. Taehyung’s jaw became sharp in the shadows created against his skin.

Jimin sighed, pushing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, and smiled when both Yoongi and Taehyung turned to look at him.

“It’s late,” he said, voice gentle, expression even more so. His fingertips tapped gently at the juncture of Taehyung’s neck, and they were so close that Yoongi imagined Jimin could feel Taehyung’s short exhale ghost over his lips. “Is it a long drive back for you?”

Yoongi felt a sudden pang of guilt for having kept Taehyung so long for decorations, but then looked at how Taehyung and Jimin curved towards each other and felt the feeling fade as quickly as it’d come.

Taehyung nodded, then shook his head. “It’s okay, it’s not- um, it’s not a bad drive.” He made no move to get up, though, none of them did. “But, yeah, I, uh, guess I should go.”

Yoongi smiled, eventually nudging Jimin so that he could pull away and let Taehyung stand.

It was quiet, in a pleasant way, as they followed Taehyung to the door, lingering as he put on his shoes, buttoned up his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck. He made a small sound of surprise when Jimin suddenly stepped forward to envelop Taehyung in a hug, pressing his lips firmly to Taehyung’s cheek.

There was a blush beneath Jimin’s skin when he pulled back.

“Thank you,” Jimin murmured, “for saving us the best tree.”

Taehyung laughed, even as he looked at Yoongi, eyes a little wide, hand half raised to his cheek. Without thinking, Yoongi reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles over the skin where Jimin’s mouth had been.

“Text us,” Yoongi said quietly, “when you get back home. So we know you’re safe?”

If Taehyung was surprised by the request, it didn’t show. Instead, he ducked his head, nodding, and then backed towards the front door with his ears tinged red. “I, um- yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“You have my number, right?” Yoongi confirmed, but Jimin gasped before Taehyung could reply.

Taehyung,” he said, “give me your phone.”

Taehyung smiled even as his eyebrows furrowed, pulling his mobile out and handing it to Jimin wordlessly. They both watched Jimin frown down at the screen, tapping rapidly until he held Taehyung’s phone back out with a wide smile.


“Babe,” Yoongi said fondly, bemused, “you could’ve gotten his number from me, you know that right?”

Jimin sniffed, expression forcibly stern as he brushed past Yoongi to slip Taehyung’s phone into his jacket pocket. “Then I wouldn’t be able to add the cute emoji’s, would I?” When Yoongi snorted, Jimin rolled his eyes upwards before reaching up to pinch the skin beneath Taehyung’s chin, voice gentle when he said, “promise you’ll text?”

Taehyung nodded, eyes glancing between Yoongi and Jimin as if dazed, and then something soft flickered over his expression, something sweet and touched and unfamiliar. It made Jimin’s shoulders stiffen slightly, surprised, and Yoongi’s veins fill with something warm and electric.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said quietly, agreeing, “I promise.” 





Yoongi and Jimin sprawled together on the sofa, an hour after Taehyung left, both fresh from the shower, skin a little flushed from the heat of the water. Jimin’s head was on Yoongi’s lap, and Yoongi’s fingers carded gently through the drying strands of his hair.

The world around them was quiet, the decorations still glowing, and Jimin lips were shining as he ran his tongue over the slightly dry skin. Yoongi bent down, ignoring the tight pull of muscles in his shoulders, to kiss him.

Their mouths moved softly, both taking their time, and Jimin tasted of coffee and mint and something slightly sweet. He sighed when Yoongi tugged lightly at his hair, eyelashes fluttering when Yoongi tilted his face to catch his breath, mouth hovering over Jimin’s own.

Yoongi nudged Jimin’s nose with his, a promise that he wasn’t going far.

“So,” he breathed against Jimin’s mouth. “V.”

“So,” Jimin said quietly, smiling, “Taehyung.”

“I can’t believe that…” Yoongi began, only to trail off, and Jimin reached out to rub his thumb over Yoongi’s bottom lip as he nodded.

“I know.” They let the silence sit heavy, let it linger, both lost in their own thoughts, the same thoughts, until Jimin said, “I didn’t know what to think, when I walked in and saw the decorations. When I saw both of you.”

Yoongi let out a breath of laughter. “Some kind of dream, probably.”

“I imagined it in so many different ways,” Jimin confessed, “but I never thought being together, the three of us, would feel so- so—”


“Yeah,” Yoongi said softly. “I really like him, Jimin. It’s been so easy to like him.”

“Hyung,” Jimin said, smiling even as his voice trembled, “it really has.”

It was terrifying to feel so strongly about someone else, to consider involving a third person in their relationship again, but with Taehyung, it felt safe, too.

“I’m glad,” Yoongi continued, eyelashes fluttering, “that it was the same person. That we both- that it was him.”

“I didn’t want to say until I was sure,” Jimin said, “of him, and of us, but— but I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t like him.” Jimin took a deep breath, and Yoongi pressed a kiss to his quivering lips, unable to help himself. He let Yoongi lick into his mouth, let Yoongi kiss him deep, before he pulled away. “Seeing you two together—it made me so happy. Yoongi, I can’t even, god, you don’t even know.”

“I do,” Yoongi said, biting down on his cheek, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “I know.” Then, inhaling, he said, “I wanted to tell you about him, for so long— from the moment we met. But I wanted to keep this—” he paused to gesture around them, “I wanted to see your smile, when you saw.”

Jimin made a pleased sound.

The last time they’d been so sure, so ready to move forward, was when they’d made the decision to move to Daegu almost a year ago.

“He likes me,” Jimin said, “I could tell, all this time, that he does. So, before I told him that I had someone, that I had you—” Jimin cupped Yoongi’s face with his hand just to kiss him again, before he continued. “I spoke to him about polyamory.”

Yoongi felt his breath catch. “What—” he cleared his throat, tried again. “What did he say?”

Jimin’s voice was soft, but so full of hope that Yoongi felt his heart ache. “That it was beautiful. That the, um, opportunity to be able to love and to, uh, be loved, was wonderful, and to have more than one person to share that with would be- that it’s—”

Jimin’s voice cut off, choked up and slightly heavy, and heat gathered against Yoongi’s lashes as he nodded.

“Sounds like something he’d say.”

“He likes me,” Jimin said, and then, quietly, “and he likes you, too.”

Light, like the golden glow around them, filled Yoongi’s chest and sent warmth singing through his blood.

He’s beautiful,” Jimin said quietly, “don’t you- don’t you think?”

“He is,” Yoongi agreed, without any doubt or hesitation, cupping Jimin’s cheek to kiss his forehead. “God, yeah. He’s beautiful.”

Yoongi had let himself flirt with Taehyung, had let Taehyung flirt with him, because it was fun. He’d let it become friendship because it was easy. And throughout it all, he knew that the moment Jimin said no, Yoongi would step back and stop everything without a second thought. Above all, they were a team, they were in love, and that was the most important thing. Yoongi also knew, without a doubt, that if Jimin had introduced Yoongi to someone he was interested in, and Yoongi hadn’t clicked or felt the same, that Jimin would walk away from them like they’d never meant anything at all.

They were so lucky, to have found the same love in the same person.

“Do you think,” Jimin finally said, “that we could maybe try? If he’s open to us, and he’s open to being with us?”

“I’d like to,” Yoongi said, nodding. “I want to see the ways you like him.”

Jimin smiled, gorgeous and so stunning that Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back, cupping the back of Jimin’s neck to tilt his head and kiss him again. “I want to see the ways you like him, too,” Jimin murmured, mouth brushing against Yoongi’s.

Yoongi hummed. “Let’s be friends, first. The three of us, together, I mean. Let’s be friends.”

“I’d like that,” Jimin said. “Yeah, I- I’d like that, hyung.”

Quietly, grinning, Yoongi thought that Taehyung would, too.





Being friends with Taehyung went something like this: hearing him and Jimin singing along to Christmas carols when Yoongi arrived home from work, the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon heavy in the air. Watching as he and Jimin huddled out on the balcony beneath a large pile of blankets, as Taehyung told them about his childhood, growing up on a farm and enrolling into art school. It was the warmth of Taehyung’s embraces as he became more free with his affection, the echo of his breath ghosting their skin when Taehyung stood a little too close, and not close enough.

Being friends with Taehyung meant falling in love with him, easily and slowly and all at once. It was Jimin kissing Yoongi’s neck and mouth and cheeks and saying, “I like him, I really like him, hyung.” It was Yoongi kissing Jimin back, thinking of Taehyung’s skin beneath the palm of his hands, and whispering, “me too, Jimin-ah.”

As Christmas drew closer, Taehyung began to spend more time with them, and Yoongi and Jimin were more than happy to pull him into their daily routines. Jimin began coaxing Taehyung to walk him home, to stay and help with dinner so that they could eat with Yoongi when he came late from work, and more than once, Yoongi had walked into the kitchen to see them standing close, Jimin’s eyes flickering down to Taehyung’s mouth.

The wanting from Jimin and Yoongi was obvious, they were sure of it, and slowly, Taehyung began to show just how much he wanted them back. Light touches became lingering, whether it was Taehyung’s hand on Yoongi’s waist or his fingers tickling across the back of Jimin’s neck.

Before, when Yoongi would come home and Jimin would stand to greet him with a kiss as he murmured, “you look so handsome”, Taehyung would blush and look away. Now, he watched with a small smile, often beating Jimin to the punch and saying in his humming, low voice, “looking pretty as ever, Yoongi-hyung ” as Jimin leaned in for his kiss.

When they sat together, to talk or watch a film or do nothing, they sat close. Breaths grazing each other’s skin, but lips not yet touching, heavy hands where Yoongi curled his fingers against Taehyung’s waist, Jimin’s carding through his hair, or Taehyung spreading his palm over Yoongi’s thigh, wide enough to curl almost completely over the soft swell as he tugged Yoongi closer.

The friendship and the wanting and the love came naturally. Yoongi would thoughtlessly rest his head on Taehyung’s lap, letting the sound of his voice alongside Jimin’s lull him to sleep, and Jimin, when he laughed, would fall easily into Taehyung’s embrace, like he’d made a home in the cavern of Taehyung’s arms, like he’d made himself a place to stay.

It became natural for Taehyung to hug them long enough that hugging became holding, that holding became swaying together as they smiled. Natural for him to flush prettily when Jimin threw himself onto Taehyung’s lap and asked politely, teasingly, for warmth. Natural for Taehyung to smile instead of blush when Yoongi, wandering out of bed one lazy Saturday afternoon to the sight of him and Jimin laughing over a bowl of brownie batter licked clean, reached out to swipe his thumb over the smear of chocolate against Taehyung’s pouted upper lip and taste it on his tongue.

What felt unnatural was, in the moments after, not following these actions with a kiss, with a whispered confession of something sincere.

Later, when Yoongi kissed Jimin, tasting cocoa heavy in his mouth as he cradled Jimin’s cheeks and soothed his thumbs over Jimin’s skin, it was hard to ignore how Taehyung’s eyes had lingered on their lips, red and shining, when they’d pulled back.

Though they spent a lot of time at the apartment, their apartment, they’d also ventured out onto the farm. It had become something undeniably beautiful as the evergreens stood like giants in the horizon of a cold winter sky, and Taehyung had showed Jimin around proudly. During one visit, when Taehyung had been carefully guiding Jimin through the different types of trees they grew, he’d used one hand to point out the specific ways the branches spread, or the subtle patterns of the leaves.

He’d used the other hand to hold Jimin’s.

Yoongi, outside in a grove of frosted trees, skin red from the biting cold air, had looked at them and felt warm.

And while Yoongi preferred to be bundled up in blankets with Jimin and Taehyung on either side, it was inevitable that they’d end up at the only outdoor rink in Daegu a few days before Christmas.

“I hope you know,” Yoongi said, grunting as he laced up his boots, under the amused gaze of both Taehyung and Jimin, who had done up their boots so fast Yoongi wondered why they didn’t just offer to do his. Most likely, he thought, to watch him suffer. “That I’m terrible at this.”

“He really is,” Jimin said to Taehyung.

Yoongi shot the plastic sled a toddler was sat on a baleful look as it slid by, being cheerfully tugged along by the boy’s mother. “I still think you should just get me one of those things. Taehyung could do it, baby. You saw him get the family that twenty-foot tree last week.”

Taehyung grinned, blushing down at his feet when Jimin hummed, “I did.” Then, more seriously, crouching down effortlessly in his skates and taking the laces from Yoongi’s hands, he said, “but hyung, we can’t let Tae do all the work, all the time.” He crossed the laces back and forth, bouncing up to kiss Yoongi quick on the mouth before returning to the ice skate. “Just for a little. Then we can get you a sled. Baby.”

Yoongi sighed, looking up over Jimin’s head at Taehyung, who was smiling down at them. “The things I do.”

Taehyung reached down and, sweetly, stroked his fingers under Yoongi’s chin. “We’re very appreciative, hyung.”

Jimin grinned up at Yoongi before bouncing up to his feet and grabbing Taehyung’s hand and tugging Yoongi to his feet with the other. “Come on.”

As it was, Yoongi practically shoved Jimin and Taehyung into the center of the rink so he could be left to cling to the wall in peace while they flitted around the ice. Jimin moved effortlessly, and Taehyung with a confidence that had people doing double takes as he passed. Although that might have had more to do with the way the lights surrounding the rink glinted off the sharp line of his cheekbones, the pretty glow in his eyes.

It made it hard to resist when, on his tenth or eleventh lap around the rink, Taehyung slowed next to Yoongi, who had maybe gotten ten feet from where they’d left him, and held out his hand. “C’mon, hyung.”

“No,” Yoongi said, his feet sliding a little under him. He took a sharp breath and glared a little. “I’ll fall.”

“I’ll catch you.”

Yoongi huffed, straightening as he considered Taehyung, and then blinked when Jimin swung in front of Yoongi, twisting until he was skating slowly backwards to keep pace with them.

“You coming?” Jimin exclaimed.

Yoongi looked between Jimin and Taehyung, at the pink flush high on Jimin’s cheeks, the windswept strands of Taehyung’s hair, at how Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a quick, happy look as they waited for Yoongi to come off the edge, because they knew he would.

Without another word, Yoongi took Taehyung’s outstretched hand, and Taehyung grinned, tugging him away from the wall. He didn’t have a chance to miss the sturdiness of it because Jimin was there in a second, looping his arm beneath Yoongi’s.

“It’s not bad, right?” Taehyung said, chuckling when Yoongi stumbled, keeping him upright with ease.

Yoongi squeezed Taehyung’s hand tightly, eyelids fluttering shut when he felt the press of Jimin’s mouth gentle on his cheek.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said, and when he opened his eyes, he had one hand in Taehyung’s, and the other in Jimin’s, and bad was the farthest thought from his mind.

Especially when, on the walk home, snow began to fall lightly around them. The flakes were small, barely visible, but the sight of Taehyung and Jimin’s smiles was so radiant, so young and carefree, that Yoongi desperately wished he’d bought his camera with him, just to catch the awe on their faces.

The three of them crammed together on the sidewalk, bodies tucked close and arms linked, talking quietly between themselves, and every so often, Yoongi turned to press a kiss to Jimin’s hair, his cheek, the wool of Jimin’s beret tickling his mouth.

“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin said sweetly, scrunching his nose when Yoongi kissed the corner of his eye, “what did you say you were doing for Christmas, again?”

Yoongi hummed, curious to the answer himself, and pulled Jimin further into him, Taehyung stumbling closer as a result. They were far from the crowds downtown, in the quieter residential areas, walking between the shifting shadows of streetlamps and Christmas lights people had strung on the balconies outside their apartments. It was quiet, the roads empty, and they were calm.

“Oh,” Taehyung began, voice quiet and thoughtful, “I don’t- um, I’m not sure.”

Yoongi frowned, kept his gaze fixed forward, but Jimin came to a sudden stop, dragging both Yoongi and Taehyung back into him.


Taehyung’s eyes widened, and Yoongi loosened his hold on Jimin’s waist so he could face Taehyung properly, taking in his small smile and flushed cheeks, the large scarf wrapped twice around his neck, covering his mouth.

“Oh,” Taehyung fumbled, flustered beneath the sudden attention focused on him, tucking his scarf beneath his chin. “Um…”

Jimin‘s eyes were wide, voice a little too loud when he asked, “you don’t have plans for Christmas?”

Taehyung grimaced. “Sorry?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, knocking his hand against Jimin’s before intertwining their fingers. “We’re just surprised, Taehyung-ah,” he said, “we know how much you love the holidays.”

“Yeah!” Jimin said, nodding, “and your grandparents-”

“Oh,” Taehyung interrupted them with a smile, shaking his head, a little less startled by Jimin’s reaction. “I actually, um- my grandparents are spending Christmas with my parents in America, but we, uh, couldn’t all afford to go.”

Yoongi felt surprise flit across his face, shoulders dropping slightly, and didn’t have to look away from Taehyung to see how Jimin’s expression had fallen.

“What?” Jimin asked. “You’ll be spending Christmas alone?” 

Taehyung’s eyes darted between them and Yoongi wasn’t quite sure what Taehyung saw, but he suddenly clapped his hands together and stepped forward to pull them into a quick hug. “It’s okay,” Taehyung reassured them, false cheer in his voice as he moved back, “I wanted them to go! It’s been ages since they saw my eomma and my brother, and they’ve never been to America before. And I saved up so they could go visit- oh, and someone has to take care of the farm anyway.” He waved a hand in the air. “It all works out!”

He was speaking quickly, and Yoongi wasn’t quite sure if it was for their benefit or his own, but he felt his chest ache a little at Taehyung’s desperate attempt to lighten the mood, to take away the crestfallen look on Jimin’s face - Jimin, who didn’t mind being alone but hated when other people were, who loved Taehyung so deeply sometimes it was hard for him to tell Yoongi just how much

Taehyung grinned, though it looked slightly forced, and moved to hug Jimin again.

“It’s okay,” he said, “being with both of you hasn’t given me a chance to feel sad even a little bit. I promise.”

Jimin looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what, and Yoongi looked between them, looked between the two people he loved, and didn’t think twice when he said,

“Spend Christmas with us.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, smile relieved and wide, even when Taehyung stiffened and turned to face him.

“What?” Taehyung whispered, eyes flickering between Jimin and Yoongi. “You…”

“Spend Christmas with us,” Yoongi said again, reaching out to curl his fingers high on Taehyung’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “We want you to.”

“Ah,” Taehyung began, voice wavering, “I don’t-“

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, picking up on Taehyung’s hesitation as he reached out for Taehyung’s hand, “yeah I was thinking the same thing.”

Taehyung shook his head, slightly frantic. “You don’t have to- no, it’s really- Christmas is about spending time with your loved ones, right? And, and-“

“Taehyung,” Yoongi said again, moving forward to cup Taehyung’s face in his hands, to still and to ease him, making sure Taehyung’s eyes were fixed on his. “Come stay with us for Christmas.”

The meaning behind his words, after what Taehyung had said, didn’t pass Jimin by. From the look on Taehyung’s face, worry giving way to slight clarity, it hadn’t passed Taehyung by, either.

“The barn, um, the farm—" Taehyung breathed, blushing when Jimin pressed closer, still holding Taehyung’s hand between his own.

“You’re closed for Christmas, aren’t you?” Yoongi said gently. “And the trees will be all right for a day, won’t they?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Will you?” Jimin said. “Taehyung-ah, will you? Hyung and I-” Jimin looked at Yoongi, eyes glimmering, “we want you to.”

Taehyung made a small sound, and then he was pulling them both into a hug again, except he didn’t move back immediately afterwards, pressing his mouth against the top of Jimin’s head, then Yoongi’s, before finally stepping away.

“If you really don’t mind,” Taehyung said, “then I- I’d love to.”

His smile didn’t quite fade, even hours later, when he left their apartment after dinner, to drive back home.





When Yoongi stumbled home mid-afternoon, the day before Christmas Eve, and the sight of Taehyung and Jimin waiting for him was so familiar that it was easy, so easy, to fall into the curl of their bodies as they cuddled on the couch. He tucked his face into Taehyung’s neck without a second thought, smiling tiredly when Jimin kissed his hand and asked him about work.

“Over, now,” Yoongi mumbled, the words muffled by Taehyung’s skin. He smelled familiar, and there was a sharpness between the heavy sweetness that sat thick beneath the curve of his jaw, a something crisp and fresh that reminded Yoongi a bright November sky, and the sea of trees spread over the world below. “You get the farm sorted out, Taehyung-ah?”

“Don’t need to go back until after Christmas,” Taehyung confirmed into the top of his head, sounding happy. “It’s still- still okay, right?”

Yoongi pushed himself up, felt Jimin straighten beside Taehyung as they both focused their attention on him. Taehyung’s arm draped around Yoongi’s waist tightened.

“It’s still okay,” Jimin said earnestly. “Taehyung- of course it is.”

Taehyung glanced over at the tree by the balcony, sparkling in green and gold and red. “Sometimes it’s all too good to be true, so I- I just- had to check.”

“What is?” Yoongi said quietly.

Taehyung’s breath seemed to tremble as he exhaled. “You are.” He looked at Jimin, then at Yoongi. “You both are too good to be true.”

Jimin surged forward, cupping Taehyung’s face between his palms. Yoongi was on one side, Jimin on the other, and Taehyung fit between them so perfectly, like he belonged, like he always had.

“That’s you,” Jimin said. His voice shook a little, and for a second, as he leaned down, Yoongi thought that Jimin was going to kiss Taehyung, going to press their lips together with Yoongi not inches away, and his blood sang, his body flushed, and he subconsciously leaned forward too.

Jimin pressed his lips, not to Taehyung’s mouth, but softly against his forehead, whispering against the skin, “you’re too good to be true.”

Yoongi exhaled.

“Oh,” Taehyung whispered, closing his eyes as Jimin pressed another kiss to his temple.

Yoongi, before he could help himself, reached out to stroke his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. “Taehyung,” he breathed, “how don’t you know that?”

Jimin’s eyes were intent on Taehyung’s face, Yoongi knew, but Taehyung kept his gaze fixed on Yoongi’s, flickering down to his mouth.

“I’ve never had anyone tell me, before,” Taehyung admitted so quietly, so easily that Yoongi knew he hadn’t meant to say it, especially when Taehyung suddenly ducked his head.

Yoongi caught Jimin’s eye and smiled, and it filled Yoongi with something lovely and warm that Taehyung hadn’t pulled away, that for the past month Taehyung had allowed himself to get lost in whatever Yoongi and Jimin were pulling him into. It showed his trust, showed his care for them, the shared desire for something more.

“Well,” Jimin said, simple and matter of fact, “we’ll just have to fix that.”

Even with his head bowed, they could both see Taehyung’s cheeks lift as he grinned.

They spent the evening talking, huddled close together, and when it was finally time to sleep, with plans to spend Christmas Eve preparing food and desserts to enjoy the next day, watching films and spending time together without any stress or worries about uni or work, Jimin hesitated almost a second too long outside their bedroom door when Taehyung hugged him goodnight.

“Hyung,” Jimin whispered in the confines of their bedroom, the line of his body curled up against Yoongi’s under the covers.


Jimin leaned back a little, the streetlamps outside their bedroom window lightly illuminating his face.

“I want him here,” Jimin said in a rush, sighing and curling up into Yoongi a little more. He sighed, shaking his head against Yoongi’s collarbone.

“I know,” Yoongi said. He kept his voice low, acutely aware of the fact that Taehyung was sleeping in the guest bedroom not two doors down, even more aware of how restless that made him feel, wanting nothing more than to have Taehyung on Jimin’s other side, or pressed close against Yoongi’s back. He took a small breath. “He is here, baby.”

Jimin and Yoongi both knew that hadn’t been what Jimin had meant, but Jimin swallowed and nodded, toes tickling Yoongi’s legs before wedging in between his calves. He was quiet for so long that Yoongi thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke again.

“I think this could work.”

It was a whisper, voice gentle but full of hope, and Yoongi found himself nodding against the top of Jimin’s head.

“He looks at me, and I think he—" Jimin broke off, smiling up at Yoongi. “And then he looks at you, and I—” he cut himself off again, covering his mouth to muffle a happy laugh. “And hyung, I know when I look at him, and you look at him, that we-"

“I know,” Yoongi said, tipping Jimin’s chin up to kiss him properly on the mouth. Against his lips, he whispered, “I know.”

“I think this could work,” Jimin said again, sighing when Yoongi kissed him once more. 

Yoongi thought of Taehyung, all his warm, open love, and thought, it would.





For the past five years, Jimin and Yoongi had a tradition of making breakfast together on Christmas Eve. Every year, they’d share slices of French toast drizzled with syrup and laden with berries, eating together by the window-made-balcony as they watched the world glitter and glow. This year, when Yoongi woke up, the world was bright with snowfall and the sweet smell of warmed sugar was filtering through the bedroom door. Jimin was still curled beside him.

“Jimin,” Yoongi whispered, pressing a damp kiss to the sleep-heated skin of Jimin’s shoulder, “baby, wake up.”

Jimin grumbled and shuffled back into Yoongi, shaking his head. Yoongi muffled his laughter in Jimin’s hair, closing his eyes to breath Jimin in, before he regretfully pulled himself way. He could hear the kitchen tap running, and it was only the thought of seeing Taehyung moving around their home that prompted Yoongi to get out of bed.

He let Jimin rest a little longer as he freshened up in the bathroom, and when he stepped back into the bedroom, Jimin was on his back with his limbs splayed out as he blinked sleep from his eyes, giving in to wakefulness. Yoongi smiled as he ran his tongue over the backs of his teeth, tasting sharp mint, and pressed soft and slow kisses to Jimin’s skin, grinning when their teeth bumped together as Jimin smiled back.

“Come on,” Yoongi whispered, brushing Jimin’s hair back off his forehead and leaning back with one hand braced by Jimin’s face, thumb grazing over the delicate skin beneath Jimin’s eye. “I think Taehyung’s making breakfast for us. Come on, baby.”

As it’d been for Yoongi, the image was enough for Jimin to rush to the bathroom. Yoongi laughed, pulling on a t-shirt as he stepped out of the bedroom.

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said when he rounded the corner, then paused in the kitchen doorway to take everything in: the red poinsettia print scattered all over Taehyung’s white cotton pyjamas, the way his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, the low humming that cut off abruptly when he caught Yoongi watching.

“Hyung!” he exclaimed, and then Jimin was barrelling past Yoongi to smother Taehyung in an embrace so tight his feet momentarily left the ground.

“Jimin,” Taehyung laughed, swinging Jimin back onto his feet and darting towards the stove. “You guys woke up earlier than I thought. I wanted it to be ready.”

“Well,” Jimin said, “now we can help.” He reached out to swat Yoongi’s hand when he went to grab a raspberry from the plate. “Hyung.”

Yoongi lifted his hand to his chest, wounded, keeping his expression straight when Taehyung hid his smile behind the cup of his palm. “I’m taste testing.”

“You’re being,” Jimin huffed, “a menace.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but wordlessly turned to get the cutlery and set the table, a strange, buzzing sort of happiness rolling in his chest at the sound of Taehyung and Jimin working around him. He caught Jimin’s eye several times when Taehyung’s back was turned, the soft wonder and the gentle delight, that Taehyung was here, with them.

They ate breakfast huddled around the small kitchen table, and then migrated to the sofa where their legs tangled beneath a multitude of blankets they’d thrown over their laps. Jimin had hours’ worth of Christmas films queued for them to watch, a jug of mimosa’s he’d prepared when Taehyung had been helping Yoongi clean the dishes.

“First,” he said, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” He shuffled until he was tucked completely between them, head resting on Yoongi’s shoulder as his body tilted towards Taehyung. “Did you know this was based off Yoongi before he started dating me?”

Yoongi choked on his drink while Taehyung laughed, reaching over Jimin’s shoulder to pat Yoongi’s back. “I don’t believe you,” he teased, though his voice softened when he said, “hyung’s always had a heart too big for his body.”

Jimin grinned, rolling his eyes fondly, and pressed play.

A little while into the movie, when Taehyung began to hum along to the music, Jimin joined in. Yoongi grinned, looking at their faces, bright and lovely, and thought he must have been some sort of angel in a past life, to have two more sitting before him now.

The next film included a lot more singing, and Jimin had about two extra glasses in him than Taehyung and Yoongi, and was standing between them on the couch as he gestured along with the songs, urging Taehyung to stand with him and stepping over Yoongi in the process.

“Let it go, Tae- ah —” Jimin tripped over Yoongi’s leg, landing hard in his lap. “Thank fuck I finished this—” He waved the empty flute, placing it on the table with a clink before he surged back up on his knees.

Taehyung was beaming, singing through Jimin’s clumsiness and his own laughter, before he suddenly stood and helped Jimin to his feet. In the small space between the coffee-table and the couch, they acted out the character’s lines, moving in perfect sync with each other, eyes shining in the moments they caught Yoongi’s gaze.

Yoongi adored them.

Jimin fell asleep twenty minutes into the third film, head on Yoongi’s shoulder and knees resting against Yoongi’s thigh as he curled his legs towards his stomach, and Yoongi curled his arm around Jimin’s waist, fingers resting on the dip of his hip.

Yoongi exhaled sharply when Taehyung, sudden and slow, reached out to tangle their fingers, the back of his hand resting against Jimin’s jumper. His eyes darted towards Taehyung, but Taehyung kept his eyes focused on the television even as he smiled, even as the tips of his ears turned red and his chest sank with a shaky breath.

They were still holding hands when Jimin woke up a half hour later.





The day was growing darker, the evening settling into the sky, when they finally stood to stretch their legs.

“Hot chocolate?” Jimin asked lightly, brushing his finger over Yoongi’s mouth as Taehyung made his way towards the kitchen.

Yoongi smiled, nodding, and watched Jimin join Taehyung in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist from behind. The sound of boiling water was loud, the clinking of mugs as Taehyung reached out for them shrill, but the beat of Yoongi’s heart, steady and settled, seemed like the loudest noise of all.

He walked towards them, leaning against the doorway as Jimin pressed his mouth to Taehyung’s shoulder in a barely-there kiss. Taehyung’s body seemed to relax, and he tipped his head back to press his nose against Jimin’s cheek, before he pulled himself out of Jimin’s hold, coming to stand beside Yoongi instead. He tapped Yoongi’s nose with his finger, lightly, teasingly, and grinned when Jimin snorted.

Yoongi rolled his eyes upwards even as he pushed Taehyung’s hair back from his forehead. “Both of you,” he began, “are such a pair of—” He suddenly stopped, blinking back up as he registered the bundle of green, rounded leaves hanging above his head, the thin stems tied together by a silken red ribbon.

It hadn’t been there in the morning.

Taehyung blinked, too, brow furrowing as he followed Yoongi’s gaze. His fist tightened around the packets of hot chocolate powder he had in his hand. “I didn’t—” he said, blushing pink, “I didn’t- um, put that there? I, uh—”

“I didn’t buy that—” Yoongi said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, and then glanced back towards Jimin, who was looking at them with a soft but calculating expression on his face, biting down on the inside of his cheek.

“I did,” Jimin said, walking slowly until he was stood in front of Yoongi, Taehyung standing between them, “you know how mistletoe works, right?”

Yoongi felt his mouth go dry. It was a bold move to make, and one that Jimin acted out with an easy confidence that Yoongi could tell he didn’t really feel, but Taehyung hadn’t moved away, hadn’t done much of anything, and maybe that meant—


Before Yoongi could answer, Taehyung cleared his throat, voice quiet when he spoke. “I do.”

That was all the encouragement they needed.

Jimin shuffled forward, until his socked toes bumped the sole of Taehyung’s foot, and took a deep breath. He met Yoongi’s eyes before he pushing up on the balls of his feet to press his mouth to the corner of Taehyung’s lips.

Yoongi didn’t know where to look; whether to focus on the flutter of Jimin’s dark eyelashes as he lingered a second too long to be casual, or whether to keep gazing at Taehyung’s face, mouth slightly parted and eyes closed. The sound of Taehyung’s sharp inhale was audible in the ringing silence as the kettle finished boiling the water, and his breath trembled when Jimin lowered himself, a light pink dusting on his cheeks that gave way to how affected he was, too.

Yoongi didn’t give himself a moment to doubt. His fingers hovered over Taehyung’s jaw, feeling Jimin’s breath ghost his knuckles, and mirrored the kiss, pressing his lips to the other corner of Taehyung’s mouth.

It was light, and quick, and far too short. Yet, in the quicksilver of a second, Yoongi was able to get an aching semblance of what Taehyung tasted like, felt like.

“I- you—” Taehyung’s eyes opened as he exhaled, and Jimin watched Taehyung with his knuckles pressed against his mouth, hopeful and anxious, and vulnerable, above all else. Yoongi itched to reach out and hold Jimin’s hand between his own, brush his thumb over the indents Jimin was undoubtedly pressing into his skin, but he was desperate to hear what Taehyung would say, what he’d do. In a quiet whisper, a rushed confession, Taehyung said, “I want to kiss you both.”

Jimin stepped forward as if he couldn’t help himself, and Yoongi’s eyes flickered to him only for a moment before he turned back to Taehyung, whose head was bowed as he curled his toes against the tiled floor of the kitchen.

“Properly,” Taehyung said, voice high and shaking when he added, “I want to kiss you both, so much.”

Jimin reached out to grip Taehyung’s shoulder, his other hand darting out to grip Yoongi’s wrist painfully, nails digging into his skin. “You can,” Jimin said, almost pleadingly, “god, Taehyung- please.”

Yoongi looked at them looking at each other, felt the want that sat heavy in their veins trickle through his own blood, and felt his heartbeat stutter. “Taehyung,” he whispered, knowing Taehyung wouldn’t do anything unless Yoongi said something, too. “Taehyung-ah, we want you to-”

Though he’d thought about it often lately, never, in Yoongi’s wildest dreams, could the thought of Taehyung kissing Jimin compare to seeing it happen. Jimin’s hand was still curled around Yoongi’s wrist, his other still on Taehyung’s shoulder, packets of hot chocolate on the floor by their feet, and Taehyung’s fingers ghosted of Jimin’s jaw, cradling his face gently, like Jimin was something precious, to be treasured and adored.

Yoongi was transfixed, seeing their mouths work together, seeing Taehyung’s golden skin against Jimin’s honeyed body. His eyes lingered on the flush of Jimin’s cheeks, the red of Taehyung’s ears, the slight furrow of his brow as he licked into Jimin’s mouth with concentrated ease. He heard the soft gasps Jimin made as if they were echoes in his own chest, and swayed forward, unable to himself.

The movement tore Jimin away from Taehyung.

There was a soft sheen clinging to Jimin’s lower lashes, and he was breathless, lips reddened, and Yoongi didn’t get a chance to read the expression on Jimin’s face before Taehyung turned to kiss him. Yoongi felt Jimin’s nails break his skin.

Taehyung kissed Yoongi’s upper lip, then his lower one, letting his teeth drag just lightly. Yoongi parted his mouth almost immediately, let Taehyung lick between his teeth and tasted something sharp, something sweet, swore that he could sense Jimin still trapped beneath Taehyung’s tongue. It was silly, it was impossible, they hadn’t kissed long enough for Taehyung to carry Jimin’s taste in his own mouth, but at the same time-

At the same time, kissing Taehyung brought an impossible feeling of home.

Though Yoongi’s heart was rattling in his chest, Jimin soothing the skin of Yoongi’s wrist with his thumb and his eyes burning heavy into the side of Yoongi’s face, Taehyung kissed Yoongi like they’d been kissing for years. Like he knew just how deep Yoongi liked it, just how slow, kept it as gentle as he kept it long, and only pulled away when Yoongi had to tilt his face to catch his breath, Taehyung’s nose pressed against his temple as their chests heaved.

Yoongi’s eyes were still shut when Jimin stepped close enough to press his mouth to Yoongi’s own. Kissing Jimin was always familiar, always euphoric, filled with an ever-incomprehensible amount of love. He tasted sweet and warm and lovely, the way he arched into Yoongi’s hold so easily sent Yoongi’s blood hot and pulsing beneath his skin, but there was something different this time, too, with Taehyung still pressed so close to them, his breath falling gently on their skin.

“Was that—" Taehyung swallowed, shifted, his lips skimming Yoongi’s temple. “Okay? Was that okay?”

Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered open as Jimin turned away from him, half murmuring, half laughing, as he cupped Taehyung’s face between his hands and said, “it was perfect. You’re perfect.” He stroked his thumbs over Taehyung’s cheeks, breath ghosting over Taehyung’s mouth as he asked, “again? Taehyung,” his voice was quiet and lilting, nervous and yet sure. “Will you kiss us again?”

Jimin,” Taehyung whispered, eyes flitting towards Yoongi. He seemed to be rendered speechless, expression only growing more awestruck when Yoongi’s fingers tangled loosely in his hair, his other hand pressing into the small of Jimin’s back.

Yoongi nodded. “You’re perfect.”

Taehyung made a low, almost pained sound, before he surged forward to kiss Jimin again. His hands splayed over Jimin’s back, trapping Yoongi’s fingers beneath his palm, pushing them into Jimin’s skin, and Jimin made small, desperate sounds against his mouth, sounds that Yoongi knew well. When Jimin’s head fell back, a sigh leaving his lips, Taehyung dragged his mouth down the column of Jimin’s throat, teeth lightly scraping over the skin.

Yoongi shifted, and Jimin’s lashes fluttered, and the curl of his mouth, the glimmer of his eyes, were so open and inviting, that Yoongi pressed forward to kiss him again. He swallowed the same pretty noises that had been muffled against Taehyung’s lips, something hot coiling in his abdomen when he felt Taehyung’s breath ghost over his own skin.

He barely had a moment to pull away from Jimin, to meet Taehyung’s eye and hear Jimin’s quiet plea of Taehyung’s name, before Taehyung kissed him.

Taehyung’s hands were still pressed to Jimin’s back, Yoongi’s hand still trapped beneath his, but their bodies arched as if they were pulling each other close anyway. Their mouths worked slowly, lip sliding and tongues tentative, tasting. Taehyung kissed with the same, gentle confidence that he had with most things, licked behind Yoongi’s teeth and over the ridges in the roof of his mouth.

Yoongi kissed Taehyung like he was trying to make up for all the weeks they hadn’t, for every second that he’d wished that he could.

Taehyung moaned, sudden and low and deep, and Jimin made a small noise beside them before he started to press his mouth gently to their jaws, lips damp, touches lingering.

It took a while for them to stop kissing. It took a while for them to catch their breath.

For several, long moments, the three of them stood together, huddled close as they held each other.

Jimin had their hands in each of his own, Taehyung’s arm now curled lightly around Yoongi’s waist, Yoongi’s fingers resting gently against the curve of Taehyung’s neck. He lifted their joint hands and pressed a kiss to each of Yoongi’s knuckles, and then did the same to Taehyung’s, and then moved forward to kiss Taehyung’s mouth chastely. The minute he pulled away, Yoongi did the same to him, and then to Taehyung, tilted his face to brush his mouth over Taehyung’s cheek, not kissing him, but resting his lips there, letting his breath ghost over Taehyung’s skin.

Though their touches remained gentle as they calmed, and Jimin cradled his head against Taehyung’s chest, looking up at Yoongi with his eyes shining.

“You’re beautiful,” Yoongi breathed, stroking the tips of his fingers over Jimin’s cheeks, then did the same to Taehyung, letting his nails drag lightly over the slope of Taehyung’s jaw. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

Jimin’s smile widened before he turned his face more fully into Taehyung’s chest, making a happy, humming noise.

Yoongi found it hard to look away. Realised he didn’t really want to.

“Go sit down,” Yoongi suggested, voice gentle, dropping a kiss to the top of Jimin’s head. “Sit,” he said in a murmur. “I’ll make us the hot chocolate.”

They stayed close as they walked out of the kitchen, and Yoongi picked up the fallen hot chocolate packets, emptying them before pouring the still-warm water into their mugs. He walked back towards them slowly, placed the one he’d topped with marshmallows in front of Jimin, then rested his and Taehyung’s on either side.

Jimin crossed his legs and Yoongi turned towards him and Taehyung, one leg hanging off the side of the couch. The silence was weighted with a gentle thoughtfulness, broken only when Jimin hummed.

“I’m sorry for being sneaky,” he said quietly, though he didn’t sound it, “with the mistletoe.”

Taehyung seemed to speak before he could think. “I’m not,” he said, and then flushed when Jimin beamed up at him, eyes widening before his gaze lowered when he saw that Yoongi was smiling at him, too.

“Oh,” Jimin murmured, “Taehyung.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said softly, and then met Yoongi’s eye.

It meant more than Yoongi could put into words that, when Taehyung leaned forward, Yoongi could close the distance between them and kiss him. He took his time, discovering that beneath the sweetness of the candy canes Taehyung had been nibbling on throughout the day, he tasted heady and sharp and warm.

Jimin was watching them, smiling softly, when they pulled back.

“Are you, um…” Yoongi trailed off, kissing the side of Taehyung’s face as he ran his hand over the top of Jimin’s thigh. “Okay? Is this okay?”

Taehyung seemed to tremble even as he sat still, wide doe-eyes flickering between them. “I’m okay. It’s just- this is—”

Jimin leaned into Taehyung and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The touch seemed to ground him, shoulders relaxing as Jimin murmured, quiet, against his skin, “okay?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nodded, swallowed as he grasped Jimin’s hand, tangling the fingers of his other with Yoongi’s. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

Jimin smiled, eyes earnest and expression soft. “That’s okay.”

“We’re in no rush,” Yoongi said quietly, “we can take it slow. It’s just- we need to- we—”

“Need to talk,” Jimin finished for him, mouth pinching slightly. “We don’t have to, um.” He glanced at Yoongi, something nervous flitting across his face. “We don’t have to figure everything out right now, but…”

Taehyung squeezed their hands, eyes kind. Focused. “Are you okay?” he asked, “hyung, Jimin-ah, are you okay?”

Jimin blinked, then he laughed, a bit wetly. Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he tried to rid himself of the sudden tightness in his throat.

Yeah,” Jimin breathed, “I’m okay. I’m okay, Taehyung, I just—” He bit down on his cheek, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth before he said, “I like you, and I like Yoongi. We like you. And whatever this is, is so- so scary, but it’s wonderful, more than anything else.” Jimin paused, looking down at their joint hands. “Just- just promise you’ll be honest. Even if it could- even if it hurts.”

Taehyung shifted closer. “I care so much for you,” he said, dipping down to press a lingering kiss to Jimin’s lower lip, and then turned to Yoongi, voice quieter when he repeated, “I care, so much for you.”

Yoongi met him halfway, kissing Taehyung slow, feeling the quiver of Jimin’s body between them.

Taehyung pulled back, and his smile was soft, understanding in a way Yoongi had hoped but hadn’t expected it to be. “That’s an okay place to start,” Taehyung continued gently, “isn’t it?”

The silence that followed his words came with a blanket of sudden ease, a sweet openness for more that Yoongi felt slightly overwhelmed beneath the weight of it. He reached forward, for lack of knowing what to say, for not knowing how to react at how lovely Taehyung was, and passed them their drinks before leaning back with his own.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said lightly, though his heart pounded in his chest, “it is.”

The time passed with Christmas films playing in the background, half-watched in between lingering touches and sweet peppermint kisses. Jimin settled in Taehyung’s lap, one hand linked with Yoongi’s, and when he’d begin to roll his hips, movements becoming heavy and slow, or when Taehyung would gasp, Yoongi feeling heat course through his blood, they’d take a breath, pull away. Yoongi was reluctant to get up again, felt like he was still waking from a deep sleep and the remnants of a dream were still clinging to his body. 

But Jimin and Taehyung, too good to be true, were still there, and when Yoongi finally stood to get dinner ready, they stayed there, wordlessly following him into the kitchen.

Neither of them were much help, with Jimin sitting up on the counter, sipping from a wine glass and taking far too much joy in bossing Yoongi around, grabbing whoever walked in front of him around the waist with his legs, not letting go until he’d been thoroughly kissed.

Dinner ended up being a little late, and a little burnt. No one could say they minded, not when they considered the reasons why.

“Go put on The Polar Express,” Jimin said when Yoongi finished his wine, Taehyung licking sauce from the side of his thumb, their feet tangled together beneath the table. “I’ll get dessert.”

“Dinner wasn’t that burnt,” Yoongi said.

“And dessert won’t be either if you’re not here to distract me.”

“You were distracting us,” Taehyung said, laughing as Yoongi tugged him out of reach when Jimin went to swat him. He was still smiling when the two of them settled next to each other on the couch, pulling one leg up to his chest, tilting his head towards Yoongi as he smiled. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hey, Taehyung-ah,” he said, and then reached for Taehyung’s hand. He curled his fingers around Yoongi’s, exhaling slowly when Yoongi kissed each of his knuckles, veins raised between them. “Still okay?”

Taehyung nodded, and then glanced down. “I, um.” His voice suddenly cracked, and Yoongi squeezed his hand lightly and waited for Taehyung to try again. “I feel like I’m dreaming. I just- I can’t understand how—” He laughed, shaking his head, unable to form a sentence, Yoongi unable to form a thought. “Jimin’s so beautiful, and you’re so—” Taehyung looked up to meet Yoongi’s eye, firm even as his voice wavered. “You’re so beautiful, and I mean for more than just your looks, I—”

Yoongi smiled, kept himself silent and still even though he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss Taehyung breathless all over again. Jimin was suspiciously quiet in the kitchen, though Yoongi didn’t think Taehyung noticed.

“I l—” Taehyung blinked rapidly, a myriad of expressions flickering across his face, and let his eyes wander back down to his lap. “I liked Jimin so much, when we met. And god, when I met you, I- I didn’t know you both were with someone, not at first, but then even after, Jimin mentioned—” Taehyung cut off again, suddenly shy. “He mentioned polyamory. And then you were still so open and—”

Yoongi leaned forward, unable to hold back, and pressed a clumsy kiss to the corner of Taehyung’s eye. Taehyung’s breath rasped, his fingers around Yoongi’s tightening.

“I thought it was incredible,” he whispered, “to be meeting such beautiful people, regardless of everything else, and- and when I found out you were each other’s person, I—” At the sound of the fridge door closing, Taehyung pursed his lips. “I should- Jimin should hear this, too. He needs to- I want him to know.”

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said gently, “you will. He will.”

Taehyung’s voice became breathless. “I was so happy, to even be around you both, hyung.” He smiled, wide and bright even though his eyes were shining. “I’m so happy, it’s like—” his smile gave way to laughter, and he ducked his head. “It’s like stars aligning. You can laugh, it’s silly, I know.”

“No,” Yoongi shook his head, smiling softly, “it’s not. I’m not.”

Taehyung’s cheeks lifted, pleased, and then he looked over Yoongi’s shoulder to where Jimin was standing, head tilted slightly to one side and cheeks flushed. “You are.”

Jimin hummed, and Yoongi could tell he was happy even as he teased. “I’m just glad,” he said, “I’m glad you’re glad.” He pulled Taehyung in for a hug, then, scrunching his nose at Yoongi. “I just came to ask if you wanted caramel or chocolate.”

Taehyung kissed him before replying, hard and quick, cheeks pink when he pulled back. “Can I have both?”

Jimin grinned against Taehyung’s mouth. “Both is good,” he said, “we can make it work.”





Christmas arrived quietly in the moments between their kisses, hushed and unhurried, with the flickering glimmer stars as they sat outside on the balcony. The plate of freshly made brownies Jimin had pulled from the oven had grown cold in the night air, but the three of them were warm, blankets draped over their shoulders and bodies pressed close.

Cocoa sat heavy on Jimin’s tongue, and Yoongi chased the sweet aftertaste of caramel behind Taehyung’s teeth. If they weren’t kissing each other, learning each other, then they were watching. Yoongi found it easy to love the feel of Jimin’s eyes on his skin as he tugged and soothed at Taehyung’s lips, until they were shining even long after he’d pulled away, Jimin’s fingers running over the ridges of his knuckles. He found it easy to love the shadows created in the hollow of Taehyung’s cheeks, the dark line of his jaw, the gentle care he took to kiss Jimin, soft and deep and slow, even when the tremble of his fingers and the way he arched further into Jimin’s body was anything but.

“Merry christmas,” Jimin murmured against the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, into the swell of Taehyung’s cheek. “Hey,” he said again, looking between them both, “merry christmas.”

Taehyung was quick to say it back, happily, sweetly, as he cupped Jimin’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss between his brows, as he curled his fingers in Yoongi’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to feel worried at how easy it felt, how light and right, seeing Taehyung with them. The day itself could’ve passed in a blur, a rush of emotion, but he knew that this - whatever this was - had been developing for a long while. There wasn’t anywhere else he could’ve imagined being.

“Come with us,” Jimin said lightly, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair when he smiled at Yoongi’s yawn, “to bed. We don’t have to- we won’t do anything, but I... we don’t want to not be with you tonight, Tae.”

If it wasn’t for the tender way in which Taehyung kissed them, the soft words he’d said, then it was in how easily he agreed to slip into their room, that made Yoongi realise that this was just as important, just as serious, for Taehyung as it was for them.

After they’d gotten ready for bed, Taehyung lay between them, a threadbare t-shirt stretched over his frame and plaid flannel pyjamas hanging loosely from his hips. In the darkness of their bedroom, they traded kisses until their tongues grew heavy in their mouths, eyes dropping with sleep, and their skin was almost unbearably warm where they touched.

Taehyung and Yoongi curved towards each other, breaths mingling between them as their noses brushed, and Jimin attached himself close to Taehyung’s back, linking his fingers with Yoongi’s hand.

Yoongi fell asleep to the sound of their steadying breaths, to the smell of sweet warmth, and woke to the flutter of Taehyung’s eyelashes against his skin where he’d shuffled down on the bed in his sleep, curled further into a ball, and Jimin’s hand was more firmly resting on Yoongi’s waist.

Perhaps it was the was because Yoongi worked so hard so often, or perhaps it was just the sight of Taehyung and Jimin together, kissing him enough that kissing them both became to feel familiar, that when Christmas Day passed much in the same way as the previous day had, with films and drinks and home-cooked food thrown together, between touches and kisses and laughter that rang loudly in the glowing apartment space, Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to feel bored for even the slightest moment.

Everything was new, there were several things still unspoken, but as they exchanged gifts (a polaroid camera for Taehyung, a trilogy of paperback books with the original cover art they’d been published with that Yoongi and Taehyung had spent weeks bargaining over on eBay for Jimin, a new leather journal for Yoongi with gold lined pages and a beautiful pen that looked as expensive as it was), Yoongi looked at how easily Taehyung fit, and felt like he’d been here, doing this, with them, for forever. 

Yoongi took many pictures, of them laughing and smiling and eating, dancing as they sang to Christmas songs and red-cheeked as they kissed each other breathless, and found himself wanting to show Taehyung off to everyone and anyone that mattered.

That night, and the following nights after, even when Taehyung and Yoongi returned to work for a few days before the New Year, it seemed like an unspoken question, an unspoken answer, when Taehyung would slip into their bedroom with them.





The morning before New Year’s, Yoongi woke to Jimin and Taehyung talking quietly over him as he slept, cocooned between the warmth of their bodies. He let sleep leave him slowly, drifting with their hands skimming over his chest, his mouth, carding through his hair, touching him absently as their laughter filled the room.

When he was feeling awake enough, when they’d peppered his face in adoring kisses and their smiles were like indents in his cheeks, they huddled close and called Jimin’s parents, wishing them all the best, and to have a safe flight home, and then called Yoongi’s. His brother was the first to answer the video call, and his eyes had widened with momentary surprise at the sight of Taehyung with his head on Yoongi’s shoulder before he’d rolled his eyes, and turned his focus to Jimin, and asked what took them so long.

Taehyung’s conversation with his grandparents had been simple, and sweet, full of ‘love you’ and ‘I miss you’ more than it was any conversation itself, but they’d sweetly asked to meet Taehyung’s new partners when they returned to the country. It had been a nice way to spend the morning, and as they ate leftover pizza and watched the snow begin to melt from the sidewalks and the roads, the horizon fading from white to grey, Yoongi had quietly asked if Jimin and Taehyung wanted to join him at a work party his company was hosting.

He hadn’t planned on going, preferring to stay at home or, when he lived in Seoul, break the New Year in with friends, Jimin’s lips pressed to his neck and alcohol heavy and thrumming in his blood. But the sight of Jimin’s smile, how Taehyung’s eyes had lit up and his laugh had echoed when Jimin pulled Taehyung to his bedroom to get out some sheet masks for them to prep their skin, Yoongi couldn’t say he regretted bringing it up.

They left in the mid-evening, neither too early nor too late, and walking through the elevator doors into the open top floor of the building, Yoongi noted it was by far the nicest work party he’d ever been to. Maybe it was a result of being in a higher position, a nicer office and a better-paid job, or maybe it was the weightlessness of meeting his year-end deadlines for some projects he’d wanted to close, that made the event seem better than it actually was.

Maybe it was just Jimin and Taehyung, dressed to the nines a few feet away, laughing into their champagne glasses, younger than half the people in the room.

Their coats were stored in the makeshift cloakroom, a spare stationary cupboard that hadn’t been put to use, and it allowed them to show off the beautifully fitted clothes they were wearing, standing so easily amongst everyone that it seemed like they belonged. Jimin’s vest cinched at his waist, the metallic silver sheen glinting in the lights around them, and Yoongi had been struggling to keep his hands from reaching out, just resting against the dip above his hip.

Taehyung, fingers twitching at his side, seemed to be having the same problem too.

He was dressed similarly to Jimin, black pants instead of blue, golden vest instead of silver, and where Jimin’s shirt was a clean, crisp white, Taehyung was wearing black. It accentuated the smooth, broad slope of his shoulders, made the rich honey of his skin glow like the shimmer that sat high on Jimin’s cheekbones. Yoongi had a very strong urge to press him up against the wall and just...breathe him in.

But he still had people to socialise with, to make enough of an appearance at the party before he could duck away without being missed.

Jimin and Taehyung stood by Yoongi’s side for a good forty minutes before one of the directors had called him aside to pick his brain for a developing project, and twenty minutes later, Yoongi was just trying to make his way back to the two of them.

“- to think we can build something that big, in such a short amount of time?” his boss’ boss was saying as he waved his hand around, slightly belligerent.

“It’s about being able to push things through effectively,” Yoongi said, eyes catching on how Taehyung was suddenly alone, the space beside him empty where Jimin had just been. Frowning, Yoongi met his gaze, and Taehyung winked right before Yoongi felt familiar hands curling around his arm.

“Jaehyun,” Jimin said, voice high and light. “Are you two still talking about work?”

“It’s a work party, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi mumbled in greeting against Jimin’s cheek, trying to appease them both.

Jimin waved his hand dismissively before tugging Yoongi a bit closer, angling his body. “It’s New Year’s, Jaehyun. You wouldn’t mind terribly if I stole Yoongi back, would you?”

Jaehyun looked slightly dumbstruck, an expression Yoongi couldn’t really fault him for with the way Jimin was smiling, blinking slow and speaking in dulcet tones.

 “I—” Jaehyun cleared his throat. “No, of course not. No, of course you’re right, ah, Yoongi—” Jaehyun clapped Yoongi briefly on the shoulder, flushing when he nodded at Jimin, smiling sweet with his head against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Good work, Yoongi, happy new year.”

He walked away first, and Yoongi tried to look stern when he turned to Jimin, hiding his amusement. “That guy—”

“Was boring.”


“Missed you,” Jimin said innocently, dancing out of Yoongi’s reach. “Taehyung also dared me,” he added with a grin, and when Yoongi glanced Taehyung’s way again, he had an expression on his face innocent enough to rival Jimin’s.

“You call me a menace,” Yoongi said, walking quickly to keep pace with Jimin, steadily inching backwards until he bumped Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Baby,” Jimin whined. “We dressed up so nicely for you and you’re not even paying attention.” 

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”

Jimin’s eyes glinted, and Taehyung took a big gulp of his champagne to hide his smile.

“I don’t know,” Jimin sighed, tugging on the end of his silver vest and twisting his hips in a faux attempt of straightening what was already immaculate. “You’ve hardly looked at us.”

“You,” Yoongi said, finally catching Jimin around the waist and tugging him close, “reapplied your lip gloss thirty seconds before coming over to torment Jaehyun. And you,” Yoongi said, pecking a stumped Jimin on the mouth before catching his fingers in Taehyung’s vest and urging him closer, too. “Turned away four of my co-workers in the last two hours because you look so goddamn good.”

Who?” Jimin bristled, distracted while Taehyung blushed. “Where was I?

“Champagne,” Yoongi and Taehyung said at the same time, both grinning when Jimin huffed.

“Vultures,” he muttered, turning to Taehyung and loosening his gold tie a smidge.

“You’re the one that put him in that black button down,” Yoongi said to Jimin, flushing when Taehyung grinned at him.

“Jimin-hyung said you would like it.”

“He does,” Jimin said, his voice going a bit husky as he tugged on the tie, forcing Taehyung to stumble closer, nearly closing the space between them all. Jimin didn’t look at Yoongi, but he didn’t need to. “But he won’t do anything about it. Hyung likes to act professional at work parties. Doesn’t even kiss me properly.”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung said with wide eyes, “no!”

The grin Jimin tossed Yoongi was absolutely wicked. “He holds out on me, honestly.”

“Behave,” Yoongi hummed. He rubbed his thumb against Jimin’s waist firmly through his shirt. “You want a proper kiss, is that it?”

Jimin’s expression was challenging, and Yoongi didn’t miss the way his eyes flitted to Taehyung. Didn’t miss the way Taehyung wet his lips with his tongue.

After a beat, Taehyung spoke. “Dare you.”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate for even a moment as he crowded into what little space was left between them, and licked at the damp seam of Taehyung’s mouth. Jimin hummed, hand still curled around Taehyung’s tie, and gave it one, gentle tug, urging Taehyung a bit lower, his mouth parting just slightly, just enough for Yoongi to slip his tongue between Taehyung’s lips.

Yoongi eased away for a second, eyes fluttering open to gauge Taehyung’s reaction, give him a chance to pull back, but Taehyung closed the distance right back up again, kissing Yoongi hard.

It was almost impossible to comprehend how, in the span of a week alone, they’d grown so familiar to each other’s bodies, attuned to the sounds of their gasps and their moans. Yoongi’s breath hitched when Taehyung scraped his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin of his upper lip, and then he smiled when Jimin seemed to tremble beside them as a moan, a little too loud for the world around them, slipped deep from Taehyung’s throat.

“Oh,” Jimin breathed when Taehyung cupped the back of Yoongi’s neck to keep him in place, whispered, “hey, baby-”

Yoongi and Taehyung broke apart with a tiny wet sound, turning to look at Jimin, who seemed to be unable to decide how to look at them.

The world seemed to fade. The music became a static buzz, the clink of glasses and the murmuring of conversation, the loud laughs and booming greetings muted against the sound of their suddenly heavy breaths.

Taehyung’s lips were shining, pink from their kiss, and Jimin had curled Taehyung’s tie so tightly between his fingers the fabric was creased from his hold. Yoongi ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting Taehyung in his mouth, and wanted to see Jimin feel it, wanted to feel Jimin, too. 

“Home?” Yoongi murmured, adjusting his hand on Jimin so he could glance down at the sleek blue face of his watch. It was half-past ten, midnight still a little way away, and they’d spent effort getting dressed up for the evening, but when Jimin looked at Yoongi, then Taehyung, the answer was obvious in his face.





The commute was relatively painless, with the majority of crowds heading into downtown instead of out of it. Taehyung stood with Jimin facing his front, nose pressed against his collarbone, and the hand that wasn’t grasping the handrail for balance was pressed against Jimin’s waist. Yoongi stood behind Jimin, close enough to breathe him in, close enough to feel Taehyung’s breath break over his skin.

“You both look beautiful,” Yoongi’s said against Jimin’s cheek, looking up at Taehyung as he spoke.

Jimin tilted his head further into Yoongi, seeking a firmer touch. “Sweet talker.”

“Hardly,” Yoongi said lowly, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder and offering Taehyung a slow smile. “I’m not the only one who noticed.”

Hyung, ” Taehyung said, embarrassed, “you’re exaggerating.”

Jimin turned his head further into Taehyung’s chest when Yoongi chuckled. “I’m not. Couple people asked me about you.”

Taehyung’s hand moved slowly, up and down Jimin’s back, his knuckles tickling Yoongi’s stomach. His voice was carefully light when he said, “oh?”

“Mhm,” Yoongi said, putting both hands on Taehyung’s waist, wrapping Jimin between them. “Said you were handsome. Few asked for your number.”

Jimin fidgeted. Taehyung continued to move his hand up and down his back. “And what’d you say?” he asked quietly.

Yoongi lifted one shoulder. “Not my number to give. And yes, you are very handsome.”

Taehyung let out a small breath, almost a laugh, humming out a soft “what?” when Jimin looked up at him.

“Nothing,” Jimin replied, voice gentle, almost delicate.

Taehyung met Yoongi’s eyes for a brief second before settling back on Jimin. They were quiet for a moment, the lights from the city passing in yellow streaks through the window behind Taehyung, blurred and distorted against the dark silhouettes of buildings stood beneath an even darker sky. 

“I don’t want to give it to anyone, you know,” Taehyung said after a few moments, half into Jimin’s hair. His grip on the handrail overhead tightened. “Not like that? I don’t want that. Not when— or if—”

Jimin’s fingers, curled into the lapels of Taehyung’s jacket, twisted.

“If it’s not you or hyung,” Taehyung said slowly, eyes meeting Yoongi’s again. “If it’s not you and Yoongi-hyung,” he said, “I don’t really want it. Not— not at all.”

The train slowed to a stop, their stop, and the doors opened right as Jimin was tilting his head back up, lips parted.

Taehyung’s face was pink, and his fingers fidgety at Jimin’s waist, but his eyes, more than anything, were determined, focused and sure. Yoongi’s throat felt tight.

“Come on,” Yoongi murmured against Jimin’s head, body flushing hot when Taehyung turned that determined gaze on him. “Come on, let’s get home.”

They disembarked quickly, the doors snapping shut not a second after Yoongi’s foot stepped off the train. Yoongi looked at Jimin, and then, almost simultaneously, they each took Taehyung’s hands in one of theirs.

It was about a fifteen-minute walk to the apartment from the station, and although their steps were quick, Jimin didn’t seem keen on waiting. He kept glancing over at the two of them, and when they had just rounded the last corner and were about two blocks from their neighborhood, Jimin swung in front of Taehyung, breath coming hard.

“You mean that,” Jimin said, and it was in reference to what Taehyung had said over ten minutes prior, and it wasn’t a question, but Taehyung nodded anyway, serious.

Jimin cupped Taehyung’s face between his hands. “Taehyung. I want that.” Jimin's exhale was unsteady. “Want you, and Yoongi, both of you, and no one else, but I don’t want to—” His lips trembled. “I don’t ever want you to have to choose.”

Taehyung cut off a noise from somewhere deep in his chest, following the gentle trace of Yoongi’s fingers stroking over Jimin’s jaw for a second before leaning forward to kiss Yoongi’s knuckles, then Jimin’s mouth.

Yoongi’s next heartbeat was sharp, strong, stinging through his veins like a lightning strike.

“Why would I want that?” Taehyung asked, “how could someone how could anyone not love you both?“

Jimin’s gasp was soft, and Taehyung’s eyes widened, like he’d just realized what he’d said.

Yoongi took his hand off of Jimin’s face, solely to wrap his arms fully around Taehyung from the side, his smile buried in the dark cloth of Taehyung’s suit jacket. Yoongi didn’t try to stop Jimin from surging forward, lifting his eyes to see Jimin’s mouth move against Taehyung’s.

“Baby,” Jimin whispered desperately against Taehyung’s mouth, “let’s go home.”

For the first time, Yoongi wasn’t sure who Jimin wasn’t speaking to. It didn’t quite matter.

Home, over time, wasn’t the safety of four walls, the reassurance of a roof over their heads, but had become the faint trace of honey and berries lingering in the air after Jimin’s baths, heavy and light all at once. It was Yoongi’s building blueprints scattered sporadically around the flat surfaces of the apartment, coffee stains on papers and pencils tucked into strange places. It was the care in which Taehyung had hung the Christmas decorations, the care in which he’d started, slowly, to take them back down, and how gradually things had shifted - the place they kept the remotes, the amount of chocolates hidden in the drawer, the smell of burning candles and pine - to accommodate him, too.

That was home. The three of them.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi said, breathed, into Taehyung’s hair, right behind his ear, near the nape of his neck. He could hear Jimin kissing Taehyung, could hear the moan Taehyung strangled in his throat when Yoongi said his name again.

Jimin lead, stumbling a little in his haste to tug them the rest of the way back. When they neared the building, Yoongi could spot their balcony easily a few stories up, distinguishable among the others by the amount of fairy lights Taehyung had left wrapped around the wire railing. They glowed warmly in the cool night air.

They took the stairs, Jimin and Taehyung two at a time. Yoongi was less rushed, walking behind them at a slower pace, but still felt breathless when the front door finally came in sight.

Jimin had Taehyung pressed up against the door, kissing him even as he scrambled to unlock it. They half tumbled in, and there was a loud clattering sound immediately after they disappeared through the doorway. Yoongi was quick to come in after them, the door clicking shut behind him as he took in Taehyung and Jimin frozen in place looking down guiltily at Dasher the lawn deer, knocked flat on his side and a good six feet from where he had been positioned by the door.

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said with a small smile, shrugging off his jacket. “You have to move slowly. You probably scared him.”

A beat of quiet, where Jimin smiled at them with a fondness that was palpable, and Taehyung looked momentarily astonished.

Yoongi,” he finally whispered, voice rough with emotion, and then he was yanking Yoongi close, kissing him hard and fast, fingers catching in his hair. Taehyung dragged his palms down Yoongi’s back until his hands were grasping Yoongi’s ass for one blinding, hot second before going lower, gripping the backs of his thighs and then lifting Yoongi like he weighed nothing, lifting until his legs were around Taehyung’s waist.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi hissed against his mouth, groaning when Taehyung hiked him up a little higher. He was walking them backwards through the apartment towards the master bedroom, bumping corners when Yoongi bit and sucked on his neck, whispering husky praises in between Yoongi’s name until they were crossing the threshold and Yoongi was being pushed down on the bed. Familiar fingers pressed on his shoulders, working at his tie and shirt, the smell of honey and mint heavy in Yoongi’s nose.

“Baby,” Yoongi said, and Jimin, who’d been waiting at the end of the bed for them, perched at the edge as he watched Taehyung lower himself onto the mattress at Yoongi’s other side, made a small acknowledging sound.

Yoongi pushed himself to sit properly, his thigh shifting against Taehyung’s, and tilted his head just in time for Jimin to crawl into his lap and press their lips together. He sighed into Jimin’s mouth as he felt Jimin’s fingers push at his shirt, felt the tremble of Jimin’s breath in the moments they separated, only to come back together quicker, messier, needier than before.

It took some time for them to stop kissing, unable to let each other go too far, and all the while, Yoongi was aware of Taehyung beside them, of one of Jimin’s hands curling against the side of Taehyung’s neck to keep him close.

“Baby,” Yoongi murmured, cupping the side of Jimin’s face as he ran his thumb over Jimin’s lower lip, looking tender enough to bruise. “Hey, baby,” he said, “is this okay?”

Jimin’s mouth opened under Yoongi’s thumb as he nodded, a slow tilt of his head, eyes glittering. The moment this got too much, for him or for Taehyung or for Yoongi himself, then they’d stop, and the only way they could know is if they asked.

Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, lips still pressed beneath Yoongi’s thumb, before he turned to look at Taehyung sitting beside them.

Taehyung’s tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck, and he was watching them with dark, dark eyes.

“Taehyung,” Jimin breathed, shifted his hips as he adjusted himself on Yoongi’s thighs, movements slow as though he were treading through water. His own silver vest had come undone, and the flush over his bare skin peeked out through his unbuttoned shirt.

“You really want me here,” Taehyung said wondrously, quiet, “don’t you?”

“So much, ” Jimin breathed, “we want you here so much, Tae.” He paused, voice catching, and his fingers moved to Taehyung’s jaw even as he asked, “can we touch you, Taehyung-ah? Will you let us?”

Taehyung’s inhale was sharp, eyes even moreso, flicking between Yoongi and Jimin. “I’m asking myself the same thing.” 

Yoongi, still trapped beneath Jimin’s weight, turned his face and reached out with his other hand to tangle his fingers in the shorter hairs at the nape of Taehyung’s neck. He was close enough to see the small, dark moles on Taehyung’s skin: the one on his cheek, his forehead, on the tip of his nose. The one on his lip, caught at the edge of it, that Yoongi had kissed so many times since Christmas Eve he’d lost count.

Still, Yoongi asked. “Taehyung-ah. Can I?”

Oh,” Taehyung whispered, lifting his hand to curl around Jimin’s wrist by his neck, reaching out with his other to brush his thumb over Yoongi’s cheek, “please—

Yoongi leaned forward to kiss him without a second thought. He could feel Taehyung tilt towards him, towards them, as Jimin tugged at the buttons of his shirt, ducking his head to press his lips to the newly exposed skin, almost reverently, still sat on Yoongi’s thighs. One hand steadying Jimin’s waist, Yoongi tugged lightly at Taehyung’s hair, heard him gasp and moan and stutter out senseless words as Jimin’s tongue and teeth dragged over his shoulders, the dip of his collarbones and the skin of his chest.

Yoongi gasped into Taehyung’s mouth when Jimin rocked his hips.

Taehyung groaned, the sound guttural, and without thinking, Yoongi tugged at his hair hard enough that Taehyung’s head tilted back, throat exposed for Yoongi to kiss and lick and mark.

God,” Taehyung sighed, “I want you both-” his breath hitched, body arching, when Jimin's fingers dragged over his hardening cock, undoing the belt and the zipper swiftly, pressing down with his palm, hips still rocking into Yoongi’s own. “I want-”

“What do you want?” Yoongi murmured against Taehyung’s jaw. “Whatever you want, baby. Just tell us.”

Taehyung moaned, turning his head so he could kiss Yoongi again. His fingers was pulling at the collar of Yoongi’s shirt, and Yoongi heard Jimin make a soft, desperate sound, Taehyung’s other hand digging hard into Jimin’s hip, so that both Yoongi and Taehyung were holding him from either side. 

Even with his eyes closed, the thought of them, tangled so intimately, was enough to have something hot curl in Yoongi’s gut.

“Let me-” Jimin’s voice was a whisper as Yoongi licked behind Taehyung’s teeth, swallowed his low moans. “Clothes - your- your clothes, I want to- I need to-”

Yoongi’s felt Taehyung’s mouth, hot and wet against his cheek, before he suddenly turned his head to kiss Jimin, taking away whatever breath he still had caught in his chest.

Both of you,” Taehyung panted, warm against Yoongi’s skin. “I want to see both of you.”

Jimin gasped, Yoongi smiled against his teeth. They swayed into each other before pulling back, Yoongi’s eyes on the side of Jimin’s face, thumb stroking lightly over his hip.

“Lay down,” Jimin said gently, pressing a kiss to the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and Yoongi shifted so he could guide Taehyung up the bed and onto his back, centering the pillow under Taehyung’s head and running his fingers gently through his hair.

Jimin paused, with his hands hovering over the waistline of Taehyung’s slacks, and Yoongi rubbed his finger lightly, back and forth over the sensitive skin just behind Taehyung’s ear. His eyes dipped down to the shine on Taehyung’s mouth, the way his hair fanned against the pillow.

“What?” Taehyung said, allowing a slight whine to leak into his voice, pitching it higher. He shifted on covers, grasping lightly at Jimin’s hands stilled on his waist, urging him to tug his pants down.

“You’re so lovely,” Jimin whispered, digging his fingers into the waistline. Yoongi watched Jimin shiver before he turned to Yoongi, and his expression was amazed, and Yoongi could almost hear him asking, do you see him? How beautiful he is? How wonderful? Do you see how he’s here?

With one hand still sifting through the hair by Taehyung’s temple, Yoongi cupped Jimin’s face with the other, drawing him in until they were kissing. Jimin made a noise against Yoongi, mouth opening pliantly, tongue pressing against Yoongi’s, coaxing him deeper.

“You too, baby,” Yoongi said quietly, “you are, too.”

Jimin pushed against Yoongi harder, then, teeth scraping against his lips, and, in a low, wrecked voice from the head of the bed, Taehyung said, “you’re both a goddamn work of art.”

Jimin and Yoongi broke apart and looked around at that, Jimin grinning when Taehyung’s cheeks visibly darkened.

“I-I just mean—”

“I know,” Jimin hummed. He tightened his grip on Taehyung’s slacks before dropping one more lingering kiss to Yoongi’s mouth. Then he was moving back towards Taehyung, pressing their mouths together, whispering against Taehyung’s jaw, “I know what you mean. Lift your hips.”

Taehyung’s head pressed back into the pillow as he arched up just enough for Jimin to pull down his pants, and although Jimin moved quickly, he was careful, stretching the elastic gently over the curve of Taehyung’s cock, the tip flushed and already wet against his stomach.

Taehyung,” Jimin husked against Taehyung’s thigh, where his lips were pressed.

“You too,” Taehyung said, immediately tangling his fingers with Yoongi’s when he touched his hand to Taehyung’s. “Please, hyung- I —”

Jimin and Yoongi didn’t waste much more time on clothes after that, the rest falling off the bed in rustle of fabric, and then Yoongi was watching Jimin swing and slide his bare thigh over Taehyung’s, hips rolling down slightly, just enough for Taehyung to feel skin against skin, just enough for him to dig his fingernails hard into Yoongi’s palm as he rolled back up against Jimin, eyes heavy-lidded and shining.

“You feel good?” Yoongi whispered against Taehyung’s jaw, into Jimin’s hair, “do you feel good, baby?”

Hyung,” Jimin whined as Taehyung nodded wordlessly against Jimin’s neck, fingertips digging into the pretty dips of his back as they slowly ground against each other, felt each other.

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said, letting his hand drag down over Jimin’s back along with Taehyung’s, swallowing thickly as he allowed himself to be distracted, for just a second, at the sight of their bodies moving against each other. “Taehyung. What do you want?”

“You,” Taehyung said, breath hitching as the gentle roll of Jimin’s hips stuttered, Yoongi’s nails dragging down the line of his spine. “Just- ah, just- just you.”

He didn't specify who he was talking to, but he didn't need to. They both knew.

Yoongi made a sound, low in his throat, and Jimin’s head tilted to the side to watch Yoongi watch Taehyung through half-lidded eyes.

They were a vision together, something beautiful and unreal, both desperate but waiting. It took a moment, just a moment, for Yoongi to realise they were waiting for him.

Yoongi surged to his knees, digging into the mattress by Taehyung’s waist, thigh brushing against the side of Jimin’s and, pausing for a moment as he took in the rise of Jimin’s chest, caught in an inhale, and Taehyung’s stomach slightly hollowed, breath not quite caught. Then, he moved forward and pressed his mouth to the juncture of Jimin’s jaw.

Jimin moaned, quiet and pained and high, and Taehyung let out a rush of air that seemed to fill the air electric between their bare bodies.

Yoongi let his tongue drag, let his teeth bite down lightly until a pink, florid bruise began to bloom, stark and beautiful against the slight blue-green veins that ran like blurred rivers beneath his skin.

“Stay,” Yoongi said into Jimin’s cheek, a gentle demand, and then to Taehyung, making sure Taehyung was watching, “we’re gonna prep him, okay?” Even though he kept his eyes fixed on Taehyung, he spoke softly to Jimin, about Jimin, and Taehyung seemed to know it. “We gotta be slow, though, baby. S’how he likes it.”

Taehyung took a shaky inhale, nodding, and Jimin was silent, fingers trembling and breaths shallow, hips almost rigid as he held himself against Taehyung, trying desperately not to move.

Yoongi pressed a warm kiss to the mark on Jimin’s skin, then a hard one, before he finally pulled away to get the lube. As he did, Taehyung cupped Jimin’s face and kissed him slowly, wetly, so that Yoongi could hear the slide of their mouths and the slip of their tongues, thumbs stroking the high of Jimin’s cheeks. Despite their closeness, Jimin kept still, and Taehyung didn’t encourage him to move, fingers pressing lightly into the nape of Jimin’s neck.

Yoongi felt his heartbeat stutter as he took in the shadowed arch of Jimin’s spine, the smooth and unblemished skin, the swell of his ass and the stretch of muscles in his thighs, on either side of Taehyung’s hips. As he took in Taehyung, dark and tall and lean, holding him.

Yoongi swallowed hard when he realised that it wouldn’t be difficult for Taehyung to stretch Jimin open, for his fingers to reach and press and crook perfectly, even as he kept Jimin on his lap.

“Fuck,” he whispered, but with the way Taehyung and Jimin broke apart, Jimin turning his face just enough for Yoongi to gaze over the side profile of his face, he wondered if he hadn’t been as quiet as he thought. Yoongi got back onto the bed, splaying a hand over Jimin’s ass and biting down a smile when Jimin let a quiet sound stutter from between his lips.

Jimin, after taking a steadying breath, shuffled forward, hissing slightly, already so sensitive, and then, wordlessly, tipped forward to press his hands into the pillow on either side of Taehyung’s face. It left him exposed, arched his back prettily, and any other night-

Any other night, Yoongi would’ve followed him, spread Jimin’s ass with his hands, fingers digging into his skin, and licked a hot stripe over Jimin’s hole, tongue slipping past his rim and curling, until Jimin was sobbing into his pillow and his hands scrambled against the sheets as he begged for Yoongi to let him come.

Tonight, though, this was as much for them as it was for Taehyung. So, Yoongi tipped forward just enough to press a wet kiss to the dip of Jimin’s spine, before he pulled away.

“Taehyung,” he rasped, eyelashes fluttering as he imagined Taehyung’s face, awestruck and mouth parted, as Jimin’s lips hovered over his. “Baby—”

Taehyung hummed, and one of the hands he still had cupped behind Jimin’s neck smoothed down Jimin’s back until his fingers skimmed Yoongi’s. There was a choked off sound, a broken moan, and Taehyung’s fingers dug into the plush skin of Jimin’s ass.

Quietly, Yoongi dipped down to kiss the back of Taehyung’s hand. His lips followed the delicate line of Taehyung’s fingers, breath ghosting over Jimin’s skin just enough for Jimin to twitch. Then, Taehyung’s grip on Jimin tightened, flesh pillowing around his fingers as he spread Jimin a little wider.

“That’s good,” Yoongi said, voice throaty. He could feel a tremble in his lungs when he inhaled, popping open the bottle and letting lube drip down over Jimin, catching some on his thumb and spreading it across his rim. Jimin’s responding whine was high-pitched, and Yoongi’s next breath came out in a hiss when he heard Taehyung gently hush, then kiss him.

Yoongi pressed the tip of his thumb inside. Jimin’s next reaction was much more pronounced, thighs flexing and back arching as he pushed back into the touch. Taehyung’s hold on his ass shifted, then tightened all the more when Jimin stilled himself again, swallowing a gasp.

“You ready, baby?” Yoongi said, dipping the tip of his thumb back in.

Yoongi-” Jimin whispered, arching into Taehyung’s hand, clenching around Yoongi. “Ah- yes-”

“Hyung,” Taehyung whispered, and with a jolt, Yoongi realized Taehyung was speaking to Jimin, panting and breathless and spread open so beautifully on top of him.

Yoongi pulled his hand back, squeezed more lube directly onto his fingers, then, after giving it a moment to warm, he ran the flat of his finger once over Jimin’s hole, pressed, then pushed inside in one slow, firm motion.

Jimin’s cry was low, drawn out, hips jumping up reflexively. Yoongi smoothed one hand over the side of his thigh and looked up.

“Hold him just like that, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said, low voice carrying over Jimin’s soft noises. Taehyung fingers massaged into the skin of Jimin’s ass as Yoongi continued to push inside, and Jimin let out another long moan. “Just like that,” Yoongi whispered, dipping down to kiss the backs of Taehyung’s hand again just as he sank his finger down to the knuckle.

Oh,” Jimin whispered, trying to roll his hips, stopping immediately when Taehyung squeezed. His toes curled near Taehyung’s thighs on the mattress as Yoongi twisted his finger, crooking it just enough to have Jimin twitching in Taehyung’s hold again before he slowly pulled back out. “Hyung, Yoongi -” Jimin threw his head back, when, not even a second later, Yoongi pushed into him again. Jimin keened, and his body shifted as he dipped down to kiss Taehyung, clumsy and wet, if the noises and the sounds were anything to go by.

Taehyung’s grip on Jimin’s ass slipped, dragging up to hold him tightly at the waist as Taehyung kissed him back, and Yoongi simply put his free hand where Taehyung’s had just been, keeping Jimin spread.

“Tae- Taehyung,” Jimin was mumbling, hips starting to grind back with more force against Yoongi’s hand, and Yoongi didn’t have to stop to think about it before he brushed his fingers over Taehyung’s wrist, a gentle suggestion.

Taehyung seemed to move before Yoongi was even done pulling away, skimming his fingertips over the slick skin and moaning roughly when he knocked against Yoongi’s finger, still half buried inside Jimin as he used his other hand to hold Jimin open as best he could for Taehyung

“Oh my god, ” Jimin choked, muscles in his back quivering when Taehyung pressed down on his rim. “Oh god, I-”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung whispered, even as Yoongi opened his mouth to say the same thing. “We’ll go slow as you want, Jimin. I’m not going anywhere, sweet.”

“Tae-” Jimin whispered, shuddering when Yoongi pressed deep into him again. “Taehyung, please.”

Yoongi leaned down, scraping his teeth over Taehyung’s hand next to his and dropped a kiss to the back of his thumb. Another gentle encouragement.

Taehyung’s exhale carried all the way down to Yoongi, deep and steady, and when Jimin echoed it as Taehyung pressed the tip of one finger in alongside Yoongi’s, Yoongi could feel his lungs expand with the same breath.

They found a rhythm, one that had Jimin muffling his moans into Taehyung’s neck as they fucked into him at once. Then, Yoongi spoke lowly, asking Jimin to lift his head so that they could hear him, so that his sounds could fill the air alongside Yoongi’s quiet sighs and Taehyung’s trembling moans, mingling with the distant and muted fireworks beginning to explode in the night sky outside.

“I can’t- ” Jimin choked, “fuck, I-”

Taehyung let his hand trail back up Jimin’s back, slowly slowly slowly, to tangle in his hair, even as his other hand stayed firm in place, pressed against Jimin’s ass, keeping rhythm with Yoongi.

Like that, held tilted back in Taehyung’s grip, Jimin’s stuttered sounds were able to spill from his mouth clearly.

“It’s okay, baby,” Yoongi said, and was slightly taken aback by the gruffness of his own voice, how so audibly affected he was. “Jimin -”

Yoongi exhaled sharply, looking down at the way Taehyung was fucking slowly in and out of Jimin, long, pretty fingers stretching him open each time Taehyung pushed back in alongside Yoongi’s, Jimin’s moans falling from his lips in short, breathless whines, one for each time Taehyung pushed back inside him.

Yoongi suddenly sat back on his heels, Taehyung’s legs warm beneath him, and the moment Jimin let out a small, desperate noise, Taehyung slipped a second finger inside him wordlessly. It struck Yoongi breathless, how easily Taehyung wanted to soothe him, how naturally he’d become attune to Jimin’s body despite this being their first night together, at least like this.

He wondered if Taehyung had thought of them often, if he’d thought about what he’d like them to do to him, if he thought about what he’d like to do to them.

“Baby,” Yoongi whispered, and then, a little louder, voice a little raspier, “baby-

Taehyung stilled and Jimin, rocking back on his fingers, let out a pained moan, but stilled with him.

“Hyung?” Jimin said, voice quiet and watery, “hyung - are you-?”

With a steady hand, Yoongi reached out to curl his fingers around Jimin’s hip and tug him backwards, back towards him, and he didn’t have to see to know that Jimin was biting his lip so hard it could bleed, trying to muffle sounds he didn’t want to make as Taehyung’s fingers, still inside him, shifted deeper as Jimin moved. But Yoongi kept pulling, and after a moment, Taehyung had to pull his fingers out. 

Taehyung’s knuckles were shining, and Jimin was making small noises, high from his throat, an endless stream spilling from the roof of his mouth, but Yoongi, needing to calm the erratic beat of his heart, pressed his lips to the side of Jimin’s neck and breathed him in. Jimin’s shoulders rose and fell in time with his heaving chest, and Taehyung, below them, was staring, mouth parted and eyelashes fluttering.

Once again, they were desperate, but waiting. His beautiful boys, hard and sensitive and so close to the edge already that Yoongi thought all he’d have to do would be to curl his hand around Jimin, or let his lips nudge the tip of Taehyung’s dick, and they’d come. But he’d leave that, let it happen next time - because there would be a next time, and instead soothing his thumb over Jimin’s skin as he reached out with his other hand for Taehyung’s fingers, curling in a fist on Jimin’s thigh.

“Taehyung-” Yoongi began, voice too low, and then tried again, “Taehyung-ah.”

Taehyung, eyebrows furrowed, skin flushed, hummed questioningly.

“Tell us what you want,” Yoongi asked, letting his mouth drag over Jimin’s skin, teeth scraping over the tendons that seemed to shiver in Jimin’s neck, and Jimin slowly straightened, waking from whatever daze Taehyung and Yoongi had lulled him into to turn his head so lips could press against the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi pressed his fingers into the dips between Taehyung’s knuckles. “Baby,” he said again, breath trembling when Jimin shivered against him, “tell us what you want.”

For the first time, it seemed like Taehyung wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, wasn’t quite sure where to look. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, and something frantic crossed his expression, and he was so full of want that it felt visible, surging through his blood and settling into Yoongi’s skin, into Jimin’s heart.

Taehyung hummed, but it was short, closer to a whine. “I- I want you both,” he said, “I wanna- feel you, just- I want-” His words cut off when Jimin curled a hand around him, fingers skimming over the skin before his grip settled tightly, tugging just enough to make Taehyung’s eyes screw shut as his head tilted back, groaning deep and guttural. Jimin sighed, high and light and full of need, and Yoongi felt desire pool in his gut, so heavy it felt like liquid gold.

“Taehyung,” Jimin murmured, sweet, like his breath hadn’t been stolen from his chest, like he hadn’t felt their fingers working him open slowly, just how he loved, “tell us.” 

“Wanna feel you,” Taehyung said again, words tumbling from his mouth, as if he’d been keeping them trapped beneath his tongue and was unable to hold them back any more, not when they’d asked him. “Be- inside you, like this, but- but more-” He shifted, groaned again, Jimin’s thumb hovering over the tip of his dick. “Want to feel you, Jimin, want to feel Yoongi-hyung too-” Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, arching his hips into Jimin’s fist when he squeezed, and Yoongi clicked his tongue softly, mouth pressed against Jimin’s jaw.

His words slurred, the drawl of his accent heavy on his tongue as Yoongi watched Jimin work his hand over Taehyung again, voice catching deep in this throat when he said, “Tell us how.”

“Yoongi-” Taehyung said, whimpered, hips bucking up again. “Yoongi-hyung, want you-" his eyelashes fluttered open, meeting Yoongi’s gaze, and Yoongi’s mouth was still pressed to Jimin’s jaw, Jimin’s hand still teasing around his cock. Taehyung arched up into his grip again. “I want you to fuck me,” Taehyung breathed, voice hitching when Jimin twisted his wrist. “Want - want to feel Jimin- while you do-”

“Baby,” Jimin breathed, thighs tightening around Taehyung’s legs right before he turned to Yoongi with flushed cheeks, bright eyes. “Can we-?” 

Yoongi turned, cupping Jimin’s face between his palms before he leaned down to kiss him, deeply, sinking his teeth gently into the fullness of Jimin’s lower lip as he pulled back and whispered, of course.

They had to manoeuvre themselves again, as Jimin shifted to properly position himself, grinning through a moan when Taehyung’s hands rested back on his waist, and Yoongi stood and watched them, smiling soft and wide at each other, before they glanced at him. Jimin’s eyes were hooded, patient and sure, at ease, and Taehyung was looking at Yoongi like-


Like Yoongi was something to be treasured and adored, like having Jimin with him didn’t mean as much if he couldn’t have Yoongi, too. There was the same smile on his face, the same light in his lovely eyes, and the same longing in his touch, as he held Yoongi’s gaze and ran his tongue over his teeth.

Yoongi, caught between desperate wanting and something a lot like love, moved forward before he could help himself. He steadied himself by resting one hand on Jimin’s shoulder, Jimin turning to press a dry kiss to his fingers, and then used the other to curl his fingers beneath Taehyung’s jaw in a soft request. Taehyung tilted his head, lifted his chin, and kissed Yoongi like he’d been waiting to do it since they last stopped.

He wanted more, they all did, but this, too, was somehow enough. The way Taehyung, despite how his voice had broken as he spoke, how his hips had been unable to rock up into Jimin’s touch and how his fingers had squeezed and pulled and pushed, steadying Jimin, readying him, licked into Yoongi’s mouth with slow ease stole whatever coherent thought Yoongi had left. Taehyung curled his tongue against Yoongi’s, confident and careful, let Yoongi hear the hitched sounds he made when Yoongi’s teeth caught against his lip.

Jimin’s hands were patient, wandering, and Yoongi’s thighs were trembling and his body began to shake, but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. Eventually, inevitably, Yoongi had to catch his breath, and when he moved back, eyes still shut as he licked his lips, tasting Taehyung on his tongue, Jimin cupped the back of his neck and kissed him again, just as soft, just as slow.

They kissed until they were smiling, until the euphoria caught in Jimin’s chest seemed to flood Yoongi’s own, their teeth teasing and tongues sweet, until Taehyung shifted and they both hummed against each other’s mouths.

“Okay?” Yoongi asked against Jimin’s upper lip, catching Jimin’s lower one between his teeth and soothing the small red bruises that had formed against the pink skin. “Baby,” he whispered, pulled back a little, ran a finger down Taehyung’s arm as he held Jimin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, “are we still okay?”

Yes,” Taehyung whispered, and Jimin nodded, kissing Yoongi one more time before Yoongi moved to get the condoms.

“This is okay, too?” Yoongi heard Jimin whisper, and when he turned back to the bed, he saw Jimin had settled between Taehyung legs, one pushed up towards his chest while Jimin, fingers shiny with lube, teased over his entrance.

“Jimin, yeah-” Taehyung whispered, voice trembling.

When Jimin pressed a finger inside him, Taehyung arched off the mattress for the briefest of seconds, gasp low and ragged, leg jerking closer to his chest in a desperate move to spread himself wider, and couldn’t quite seem to find the air in his lungs. Jimin’s eyes were shining, intent, and when Taehyung moaned, roughly, “more, hyung,” Yoongi forgot to breathe.

“Baby,” Jimin cooed against Taehyung’s bare leg, pushing in to the knuckle and gasping against Taehyung’s skin when Taehyung whined. “Tae, baby - like that?”

“Please,” Taehyung whispered, and Yoongi stood beside the bed next to Jimin, slid his hand over Taehyung’s trembling thigh, and looked. Looked at how Jimin was already tickling a second finger around Taehyung’s rim, at how Taehyung was tossing his head and moaning, desperately, for more- please, hyung, more.

There was an awed, shimmering glint in Jimin’s eye as he continued to tease a second finger while steadily fucking Taehyung with the first, and Taehyung was starting to buck his hips up, his moaning giving way to full on mewls, cock still hard, still leaking against his stomach.

“Baby,” Yoongi whispered against Jimin’s jaw.

“He’s so beautiful,” Jimin mumbled back into Yoongi’s skin, then, more clearly, as he pushed in the second finger, “baby, Taehyung, you’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung pressed the side of his face into the pillow in a weak attempt to muffle his moan, hips rolling down against Jimin’s hands. Jimin didn’t fuck him especially fast, but did fuck into him hard, skin smacking lightly against Taehyung’s as Jimin moved his fingers in and out, until Taehyung was slurring nonsense into the pillow, until Yoongi thought Taehyung was going to come from that alone.

But then Taehyung opened his eyes, glittering and lovely, and he was looking right at Yoongi when he said, “please.”

Jimin immediately slowed his pace, pulling out with a wet noise and dipping down to nose up the hard line of Taehyung’s cock. His tongue flicked over the tip, the ghost of a smile on his lips, before he pulled back to open the foil packet and slide the condom on Taehyung.

Yoongi stood, quiet, watching them almost reverently, as they adjusted on the bed. Jimin murmured sweet nothings against Taehyung’s jaw as he turned, calves hung over the mattress and feet firm on the ground, legs pushed apart for Yoongi to stand between.

Jimin breathed quietly, moved carefully as he positioned himself over Taehyung, knees settling near Taehyung’s sides, back arched so his ass hovered just over Taehyung’s cock.

“Go slow,” Yoongi murmured when they both looked at him, both so beautiful, both his. Yoongi soothed one hand up Jimin’s waist, the other up Taehyung’s leg. “Take it slow, baby.”

Jimin hummed low in his throat, and Yoongi stood close enough to press his mouth to Jimin’s shoulder as Jimin’s fingers scratched over Taehyung’s chest, clenching them into fists before he braced himself. Yoongi’s mouth slipped a little lower on Jimin’s skin when he shifted, Taehyung’s cock catching between his cheeks, and then Jimin rolled his hips, back arching when Taehyung reached down to steady himself with one hand, Jimin’s hip with the other.

Yoongi let his hand drag down Jimin’s back, fingers pressing against Taehyung, guiding him, pushing until the tip caught inside and Jimin sighed loudly as he took the first couple inches, head falling back as he panted into the air. Yoongi crowded closer, as close as he could, fingers wet with more lube, and pressed them between Taehyung’s legs as Jimin shifted down, taking more.

He could hear the shake in Jimin’s breath, feel the tremble in Taehyung’s legs, as the three of them slowly eased into each other. When Yoongi pushed in two fingers, he was careful, and Taehyung, in turn, kept himself still as Jimin took him deeper. 

“Taehyung,” Jimin gasped, moaning when Yoongi mouthed at the knobs in his spine, nose brushing the hairs at his neck. “Hyung, he— he’s—”

“Fills you up good?” Yoongi husked into Jimin’s back, scissoring his fingers inside Taehyung. Taehyung cut off his gasp, hips twitching, and Jimin made a gruff, wild noise, thighs relaxing as he finally bottomed out.

“Love,” Yoongi murmured, twisting his fingers inside Taehyung, feeling them brush over his prostate for the briefest of moments. Taehyung let out a choked cry, hands squeezing into Jimin’s waist as his hips rolled, reactively. The sound Jimin made in response was almost a sob, his weight falling back against Yoongi’s torso. “Love,” Yoongi said again, easing his fingers out, rubbing his thumb up and down Taehyung’s skin delicately. Jimin half turned to him, and Yoongi could see his eyelashes were glimmering, lips bitten pink.

“Hyung, I love it,” Jimin whispered, before Yoongi could ask. “Hyung, I love—"

Yoongi had an idea of what Jimin was going to say, had an idea of what he was feeling, wrapped up between himself and Taehyung like he was. Then, Taehyung snapped his hips up, and Jimin broke off, bowing over and gasping Taehyung’s name, and Yoongi felt the same feeling rush through him, a fierce, undeniable love for the two people in front of him, with him.

Yoongi,” Taehyung suddenly said, and although Jimin couldn’t move, he shifted just enough so Yoongi could see Taehyung’s gorgeous, desperate face, brow furrowing as Jimin began to settle in his position and gain back control. Taehyung’s feet kicked and nudged at Yoongi, and he said, “now, hyung—want you now.”

The whine from before was back in his voice, and Yoongi was weak to that, weak to the way Jimin’s body moved on top of Taehyung’s, the way Taehyung sounded underneath him.

“What a beautiful, needy boy,” Jimin whispered, dragging his hands down Taehyung’s chest and lifting his hips only to drop them down again.

Hyung-” Taehyung said, voice cracking, “hyung, ah—

Yoongi nearly ripped the condom wrapper in half, hand shaking as he rolled the latex on and then his mind stilled, breathed, with a small, light touch to his shoulder.

Jimin had twisted just enough to look at Yoongi, reaching what he could of Yoongi, wanting him close again, as he took in the expression of Yoongi’s face, the tremble of his limbs. His mouth parted, waiting, and Yoongi nodded, reassuring, and moved close again. Their kiss was strained, the angle slightly awkward, and careless, but it was filled with impossible emotion, with overwhelming want.

Yoongi hadn’t known it was possible to hold this much love at once. Didn’t know if it would be possible, without Jimin and Taehyung.

When Jimin’s mouth slipped from his with a gasp, Yoongi tilted his head to look at Taehyung, who was watching them with wide, dark eyes and a deep flush in his cheeks. He looked unreal, ethereal beneath the low light of the bedroom, and Yoongi pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of Jimin’s mouth before he positioned himself, fingers curling beneath Taehyung’s knee to keep him steady.

It was like the world suddenly stilled with the inhale still caught in Taehyung’s chest. Jimin had his head tipped forward, the muscles in his arms and legs quivering beneath his skin, veins rippling like streams of water. They were both quiet, both waiting.

Yoongi pushed into Taehyung slowly, mouth open soundlessly as he tilted his head back, eyes closed as he focused on how Taehyung felt around him, wet and hot and tight. He focused on how Jimin sounded, soft whimpers escaping him when Taehyung couldn’t help the slight and sudden jerks of his hips, fucking up into Jimin when he arched off the mattress as Yoongi pushed deeper. Yoongi’s chest was pressed close to Jimin’s back, and when he turned his face he could feel the faint salt of Jimin’s skin against his tongue, teeth digging into Jimin’s skin when Taehyung shifted.

When Yoongi was pressed flush into Taehyung, the heat of Jimin’s back radiating against his chest, Taehyung let out a sound like the breath had been knocked out of him, and one of his hands came to rest on Jimin’s waist, fingers slotting between Yoongi’s, and his other hand splayed over Jimin’s ass, nails almost white with how hard he dug into Jimin’s skin.

Jimin gasped, back arching. “Taehyung—” he breathed, a half-sob as Taehyung’s fingers pressed hard enough to bruise. “Ah— Tae— fuckfuck, please—

Yoongi bit down on the skin at the juncture of Jimin’s neck, as Taehyung’s nails cut through the delicate skin between Yoongi’s knuckles.

He felt Taehyung’s legs tremble on his either side, felt Jimin tremble before him, and made sure he had his feet planted firmly as he pulled out slowly, just enough that he could slam back into Taehyung with sudden force. Taehyung clenched around Yoongi as he fucked up into Jimin, and the way they moved into and around each other, seamless and easy, how Jimin was holding himself up with his hands on Taehyung’s chest, made it feel like Yoongi was fucking into him.

“Fuck, baby,” Yoongi breathed as he watched the muscles in Jimin’s back shift, as beautiful, choked-off moans spilled from his mouth and rose high in the air above their heads, loud and shameless. “Fuck - you’re so- so tight, so good for me-” He rocked forward again, setting a rhythm, drinking in the sight of Jimin bouncing on Taehyung’s lap, clumsy and uncoordinated as he tried to lean down and kiss Taehyung, though Yoongi was sure the meeting of their mouths was more teeth than tongue, wet and messy as they breathed against each other's lips, mouths parted and open, breathing each other in.

Yoongi couldn’t see them kiss - and god, he fucking wanted to, but this, too, was enough: the soft arch of Jimin’s back and the flush of his skin, the spread of his ass and his breathy high sounds, the moans that pulled themselves from Taehyung’s chest, as he fucked into Jimin and let Yoongi fuck into him.

The love that had intertwined itself with Yoongi’s soul shone golden, felt radiant, warm. He knew of love, he loved Jimin, but he hadn’t known love like this, hadn’t known that love could fill him with something endless and impossible and so strong it was as difficult to breathe as it was easy. Taehyung was a gift, something beautiful and precious, and Yoongi wanted to adore and be adored by him, wanted to belong to Taehyung as much as Taehyung belonged to them, as much as he wanted to keep belonging to Jimin.

Taehyung was tight around Yoongi, legs starting to twitch and spasm, and each time Yoongi fucked into him, Taehyung’s hips rolled up, right as Jimin sank down. The sounds coming out of Jimin were wordless, high pitched, and when Taehyung shifted a certain way, or Jimin managed to gasp out something close to their names, Yoongi struggled to keep his own noises down. He didn’t want to miss a second of Taehyung and Jimin.

Hyung,” Taehyung said, sudden and desperate, and it wasn’t quite clear who he was speaking to—didn’t matter—  “M’gonna- fuck, hyung, I- I’m—”

Jimin’s voice was a stuttered whisper as he nodded, almost frantic, “okay baby, that’s— ah, you can- you—”

“I’m- I’m so close—” Taehyung said, and even though his voice was hushed, it was clear, so Jimin rolled his hips harder, Yoongi fucked harder, and Taehyung slammed his hands down onto the sheets on either side of him and didn’t hold back his choked whimpers, low, soft noises somehow ringing loud in the room, with the sound of their bodies moving together and hard, heavy breathing.

When Taehyung came, his moan was deep, and Yoongi, with a hot rush of surprise that ripped the breath from his lungs, realized he wasn’t far from coming himself. The way Taehyung was tightening around him had him thrusting his hips faster, hands scrambling for a grip on Taehyung’s leg, Jimin’s waist, whatever part of them that he could reach.

Baby—”  Yoongi whispered, nearly drowned out by Taehyung as he came. Jimin moved faster, scrambled for Yoongi’s hand on his waist and urging him to grip tighter as he slammed his hips down on Taehyung’s and rolled them.

“That’s it,” Jimin said, words slurring, soft at the edges. “Oh, that’s it, that’s it, baby—” His shoulders curved forward as he fucked Taehyung through it, grinding down even as Taehyung’s moans gave way to broken gasps, each one coming from deep in his throat as Yoongi fucked him, too.

“Sound so,” Jimin mumbled down at Taehyung, “so beautiful Tae, so beautiful letting your hyungs make you feel good—”

Yoongi thought he saw white at the edges of his vision, beautiful white stars as he slammed his hips forward one more time and then stayed, muffling his groan into Jimin’s skin, hips rutting as he finished.

Jimin’s warning came somewhere in the midst of Yoongi biting down on his shoulder and Taehyung gasping their names, a quiet, nearly inaudible, “fuck," before he was arching on top of Taehyung, into Yoongi, coming all over his front as his body tightened.

“Jimin—” Taehyung gasped. “Yoongi, Jimin—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin moaned, twisting to kiss Yoongi without finesse before falling forward to kiss Taehyung in a similar fashion. “Yeah,” Jimin whispered again.

For several moments it was quiet, save for the sound of their breathing. Only when Taehyung made a small sound when Jimin shifted his leg did they finally move, Jimin shakily lifting until Taehyung slipped out, and Yoongi easing out of Taehyung at the same time. The warmth and hot air gave way to a sudden cold as they briefly adjusted to the sudden distances between them. 

Taehyung lay breathless, beautiful, and his smile was relaxed and his eyes were closed, and Jimin pressed lingering kisses to his cheek, smoothing back his hair and murmuring quiet praises beneath his breath, reverent and gentle. Their hair was damp against their foreheads, the flush still fading from their skin, and the bruise that Yoongi had made by Jimin’s jaw was dark and wonderful even in the shadows cast beneath the lights.

Yoongi came back towards the bed, having tied and thrown the condoms in the bin, and watched them, heart light, until they turned to him, pulled him close. He hadn’t felt alone for even a moment, even though he hadn’t been able to kiss or hold them properly, but they kissed him like they’d been missing him, mouths swollen and sore and shining, the edges of their lips blurred and bruised with cherry-red marks where teeth had caught and skin had become tender, lay on either side of Yoongi and kissed him like they wouldn’t mind kissing him forever, like they could stay there and think, and do, and want for nothing else. 

Taehyung’s fingers were gentle against Yoongi’s jaw, and Jimin’s palm was warm as it pressed heavy over Yoongi’s heart, and he loved them. He loved them so much he couldn’t breathe.

And, somehow, it was impossible to ignore that they loved him.

Overwhelmed, Yoongi suddenly pressed his nose against Jimin’s cheek, breathing him in, and let Taehyung run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, nails dragging lightly over his scalp. Yoongi reached out to tangle his fingers with Taehyung’s as he murmured into Jimin’s ear, words soft enough that Taehyung wouldn’t hear, “I love you.”

And Jimin, smiling, kissed Yoongi slowly and then whispered, just as quiet, “I love him.”

Taehyung remained unaware as he pressed a chaste kiss to Yoongi’s head. “Can we watch the fireworks?” His voice was a little rough, but it was just as sweet and low as always.

Yoongi grinned so wide his cheeks hurt and turned away from Jimin to cradle Taehyung’s face, kissing him properly, long and deep. When Yoongi pulled back, it took a moment for Taehyung’s eyes to open again, for the slight haze that had fallen over him to clear.

“Yeah, baby,” Yoongi whispered, “we can watch the fireworks.”

They still had just over a half hour to midnight, so they rushed to wash in the shower, Jimin slipping into the guest bedroom with a sweet grin as Taehyung and Yoongi freshened up together. A towel was still wrapped around Jimin’s waist, as he rifled through the drawer in search for some underwear, when Taehyung pulled him into a hug and Yoongi peppered his face with kisses, until Jimin’s eyes were shining, bright and damp with how happy he was.

Yoongi wanted to keep them like this, always.

They pulled out a bottle of wine and some mugs, and, dressed in fuzzy jumpers and old sweatpants, sat out on the balcony. Yoongi curled on Taehyung’s lap, head tilted up towards the skyline where fireworks burst like shattered flowers scattered over the skyline, loud and bright and sparkling, casting them in flashes of gold and green and red, and Jimin sat beside them. Taehyung’s arms were warm and tight around his waist, chin digging into his shoulder, and Jimin’s temple rested against Taehyung’s arm, fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s on top of his thigh.

It was cold, almost unbearably so, but Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than warm. Not with Taehyung’s breath grazing his skin, the heat of Jimin’s palm against his own.

They didn’t have their watches or their phones, left vibrating with notifications welcoming the New Year, so they weren’t quite sure how long of the year was left, but it didn’t matter. Jimin was the first to break the silence between them, voice gentle and lilting over the fading sparks and distant cheers of small crowds caught in celebration. It was nothing like Seoul, where the city was so bright it felt like midday, but Daegu had its own kind of magic, a different kind of wonder.

“Taehyung-ah,” he said, “you okay?”

Taehyung hummed, happy, tilting to press a kiss to Jimin’s hair as Yoongi leaned back against his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I’m okay.”

Yoongi squeezed Jimin’s fingers, brushing a thumb over his knuckles, and exhaled slowly. “What do you do for New Year’s, Taehyung-ah? Usually?”

It was quiet as Taehyung took a moment to think. Eventually, he said, “nothing particular. It’s just another day, really.” He reached out for the wine in Yoongi’s hand, taking a sip himself, before he shrugged, smiling. “But, um, I’ll spend the day with my halmeoni, we bake and watch old films, and then in the evenings, my harabeoji takes me out for barbecue, and we take the long drive home. It’s nice.”

Yoongi tilted his face up to press his nose against the sharp angle of Taehyung’s jaw, could feel Taehyung’s cheeks lift as he smiled around his words, speaking so fondly of his family that Yoongi could feel the love and respect he had for his grandparents radiate from him as a real, tangible thing. The emotion carried through when Taehyung continued.

“But this is- this is nice, too.” He exhaled shakily, pressed a hard kiss to Yoongi’s hair. “Being with you is nice, too.”

Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered against Taehyung’s skin. Jimin breathed a deep sigh beside them. The world seemed to fade away.

“Hyung and I,” Jimin began quietly, fingers pressing into the valleys of Yoongi’s knuckles, “we’ve never done anything special, even back in Seoul. We didn’t make any resolutions, either.” He hesitated only for a moment, wetting his lips. “But we do make promises. To each other.”

Taehyung shifted. “Yeah?”


There was a soft waver in Jimin’s voice, but a gentle determination, too, that kept Yoongi from saying anything to interrupt. It made Yoongi’s throat tight when Taehyung stayed silent, too, knowing.

Jimin sat up, turning to face them properly as he crossed his legs, knees knocking into the side of Taehyung’s thighs. In turn, Yoongi turned on Taehyung’s lap so he could tuck his feet beneath the small gap created beneath Jimin’s calves, exhaled a content sigh when Jimin curled a hand around his knee, fingers reaching out for Yoongi’s once more.

Then, Jimin met Yoongi’s gaze. “I promise to love you as much tomorrow,” he said, quiet and sure, “as I do today.” Between them, Taehyung’s breath hitched. “I promise that I’ll only love you more by this time next year. I promise to never let you feel alone,” he continued, and here, his voice trembled, fingers shaking between Yoongi’s own, eyes finally flickering to Taehyung, who was already staring at Jimin with something impossible laced into the soft lines of his face, “or left out, or that you only have a part of me that loves you. I promise, I promise, to love you with all of me. All that there is of me to give, is what you have.”

Yoongi’s throat felt tight, felt warmth pool by his lower lashline, and closed his eyes as he pressed a hard kiss to Taehyung’s neck. Beneath his lips, he could feel Taehyung’s throat shift, swallowing a gasp, as Jimin placed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Eyes still closed, mouth dragging over Taehyung’s skin, and grip in Jimin’s hand so tight it was painful, Yoongi said, “I promise to give you the same love you give me. I promise that I won’t ever let a day go by where you- where you don’t know just how much I adore you.” Yoongi shook his head slightly, pulling back, gaze flickering to Jimin, and then up towards Taehyung, who was looking at Yoongi like he couldn’t bear to look anywhere else. “Tae,” Yoongi said, voice breaking slightly, “I promise that I’ll love you so much- baby,” he said, “we’ll love you wholly, if you’ll let us.”

Jimin’s fingers came up to his mouth, shaking, and his eyes were red with unshed tears. Yoongi reached out for him with both hands, leaning forward uncomfortably to cup Jimin’s face in his palms and brush his thumbs beneath the delicate skin of his eyes, the tips of his nails catching on Jimin’s eyelashes as they kissed. They only broke apart when they heard Taehyung breathe out slow. 

“I-” Taehyung said, and then his mouth snapped shut, and unlike Jimin or Yoongi, the tears had spilled in liquid silver lines down his cheeks, that Jimin thoughtlessly reached out to brush away. “I, um-” 

“It’s okay,” Yoongi said, reassuring, when Taehyung seemed unable to find the words. “You don’t have to- it’s a lot- we’re a lot, it’s okay if you don’t-”

No,” Taehyung said suddenly, loud, almost furious. “No, god, how could you- how could you- hyungs,” he said, “don’t you know I love you? Do you really not know?”

It was one thing to feel Taehyung’s love, another thing entirely to hear him confess it. The two were just as important as each other.

Overcome, Yoongi could only stare at him wide-eyed, while Jimin tucked his face into the juncture of Taehyung’s shoulder.

“I know you love me,” Taehyung said quietly, a little calmer, fuelled by his desire to reassure them, speaking over any hesitations he might have had, “and I need you to know that I love you back. I- I promise that I’m going to make sure you know that I love you back. I’m not saying this because I think I need to. I’m not saying this because I should.” Taehyung let out a wet breath of laughter, tangling one hand in Jimin’s hair, cupping Yoongi’s cheek with his other. “I’m saying this because I love you. I want to promise to love you, and I know it’s a promise I can keep.”

“You can’t say that,” Yoongi breathed, but it didn’t sound convincing, not even to his own ears. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung said, softly, sweetly, “I promise.” Then, even softer, “Yoongi-hyung?”

Yoongi’s vision was blurring, mouth trembling even as he tried to purse his lips. “Yeah, baby?”

Taehyung held his gaze for a moment, let them sink into the silence of the world, and then smiled so brightly his eyes became crescents on his face, colour blooming visibly beneath his cheeks even in the darkness of night. “I love you.”

And Yoongi-

Yoongi believed him.





When Yoongi walked through the hallway, into the open space of the living room, there was steam rising from the pot on the kitchen stove and the balcony doors were open. The evening was still light, summer heat sinking heavy into the horizon, and the lights of downtown shimmered in the distance.

Jimin was stood out on the balcony, hands curled around the rails as he looked up at the lilac sky, soft pink clouds passing overhead. He was beautiful, faint strands of his hair caught in the gentle wind, and his cheeks were flushed, lips shining. Beside him, Taehyung stood in the threshold of the balcony doors, arms crossed over his chest, and when Jimin turned, Taehyung stepped forward, fingers cupping the warmth of Jimin’s neck.

Yoongi inhaled when he saw Taehyung’s shoulders relax, Jimin’s hands curling at Taehyung’s waist.

Yoongi dropped his keys into the dish reserved for loose change, and put his bag down by the doorway. He shrugged off his coat and left it on the arm of the couch, and walked towards them until he was barely a foot away, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. When they pulled back, Yoongi smiled slow.

Jimin was the first to spot him, glancing over Taehyung’s shoulder as his eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes widened, the smile on his lips curving around a quiet “oh.” Taehyung turned his head, followed Jimin’s gaze, and his grin was bright and warm.

Yoongi scrunched his nose at them, biting down on his bottom lip to hold back a smile when Jimin tilted his head.

“Like what you see?” Jimin asked, with a beaming grin.

Before Yoongi could say a word, Taehyung’s pressed forward to kiss him hello, and then seconds later, when Yoongi pulled back, Jimin caught Yoongi’s chin with his fingers to tilt Yoongi’s face and press their lips together, too.

Yoongi breathed in the sharp smell of sweet mint, the heaviness of honey, thought of happiness and love and home.

Just like it had been the first time Yoongi had seen Jimin, sitting on the windowsill of his apartment, and the first time Yoongi had seen Taehyung, covered in strands of tinsel and bright eyes blown wide, something in Yoongi’s heart jumped, then settled.

Yes, he thought, his love like a wave flooding his chest, drowning him in something sweet and lovely, I really do.