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“Hope you enjoy the show!”
Yoongi stares at the guy handing out programmes, mouth slightly agape. On paper, he’s Yoongi’s type; tall, muscular, could probably bench-press Yoongi with a little work. But that’s not what’s caught Yoongi’s attention. It’s the bright purple glitter corset and sticky red lipstick that has made him stop in the middle of the college-owned theatre. He blinks, taking in the guy’s strong, sharp features harshened by the brutal contour job he has going on.
It’s not like Yoongi has anything against guys wearing make-up. He wears it himself, a little bb cream to cover his eye-bags, coloured lip-balm to make his lips look prettier, a little eyeliner when he really wants to push the boat out. But this guy is wearing make-up like a statement - not to improve complexion, to mask minor insecurities or imperfections - to stand out. He looks fucking good, there’s no denying, but that’s hardly the point.
“Thanks,” Namjoon says quickly to the guy when it becomes apparent Yoongi is incapable of speaking. He smiles politely at the guy, takes Yoongi’s programme for him and starts to steer him towards the doors and into the main theatre hall. Just before they’re through, Yoongi turns his head to confirm the guy is also wearing chunky, bejewelled platform heels, and finds he’s also smiling widely, knowingly, at him as Namjoon’s hands on his shoulders direct him away.
Once he turns again, it becomes apparent that corsets and make-up are the dress-code for the evening; almost everyone in the room is dressed up. Some, Yoongi notices, appear to have styled themselves based on a particular character, sporting a similar maid’s costume, or the same bald-patch wig. One guy he sees is standing boldly in an underwear, corset, and garters ensemble, complete with a large pearl necklace hung around his neck and a black cape draped around his neck.
“I really don’t think this is my thing,” Yoongi mutters to Namjoon, who is looking just as out of place as Yoongi feels, wearing a sweater tucked into plain black slacks.
“It’s not mine either,” he says, smiling politely as a woman devoured by glitter squeezes past them, “but we said we’d support Jungkookie.”
Yoongi groans. He’s known Jungkook since he was four years old, giving him just enough time to know that Jungkook just happens to be one of those people who are annoyingly talented in most respects, with a penchant for finding new hobbies and interests to throw himself into and become the best at in a matter of months. Last year, he’d found their university’s theatre society, and this year he’s been ‘learning the ropes of show-business.’
For Jungkook, this has entailed the following;
- Falling in love with the leader of their university’s Theatre Society.
- Falling equally as in love with the leader of the university Theatre Society’s boyfriend.
- Pining over both of them before, during and after rehearsals.
- Doing their make-up.*
*Turns out, to exactly no one's surprise, that Jungkook is pretty good at show-theatre make-up, as well as the everyday-styles he’d gotten into playing around with last year. Another notch on the bedpost of Jeon Jungkook's talents.
From what Jungkook has told Yoongi, and by his own loose understanding of social rank systems, Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung seem to be something of an ‘it’ couple at the university, at least among the Arts students. Taehyung, Yoongi has heard of a little, mostly among his Architectural student peers; the boy apparently spends a lot of his free-time painting. He’s heard less about Seokjin, though has pieced together that apart from his talent on stage, Seokjin is best-known around campus for good-looks, good humour, good vibes.
Yoongi finds the concept all a little too high school, had previously believed popularity hierarchies were something that disintegrated once you graduated and moved onto college. For the most part, he’s found that mostly true here, but then that might be because Yoongi has never really engaged himself in social systems much at all. He’d spent the majority of his high-school life as a class president, which hadn’t afforded him a lot in the way of popularity but had at least aided his application to a decent University. His weekends he’d spent mostly with Jungkook, watching movies in either one of their rooms, playing basketball, or doing homework. Nowadays he does much of the same, although now their time together involves Namjoon too, a guy Yoongi met through a sociology class they took together, who they’d both quickly taken to when he’d offered the pair of them a room in his off-campus flat.
More than anything else, what united Yoongi and Jungkook was nostalgic loyalty, and for Yoongi and Namjoon, an appreciation of the comfortable and familiar.
“He’s not even in the show,” Yoongi protests, squeezing past a pair of women in matching sequined corsets and shorts.
“He’s doing all the make-up," Namjoon chides, "which apparently in this show means a hell of a lot.”
Yoongi groans as Namjoon drags him to their seats. He wants to be here, he assures himself as he settles beside a woman wearing a glittering gold top hat, it’s just not his thing. He’d naver-searched the Rocky Horror Show when Jungkook had come home from college one day and told him all about it with his big eyes full of stars and excitement. A science fiction, horror, comedy musical is how the results had described it, which to Yoongi had seemed a little much by way of themes and genres, but then he supposes his knowledge of musical theatre is limited. Jungkook had told him he could at least appreciate the music, if nothing else.
“Good turn out,” Namjoon mutters appreciatively, glancing around the room. Ever the optimist.
“Jungkook said the company got all the theatre and Arts people to turn out. Said nothing about a dress-code, though.”
“Well, he said it was out-there. And that there are a lot of diehard fans of the musical.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to make a snarky comment about remembering what a die-hard fan of the musical Cats Namjoon was when they’d first met, but is interrupted when the lights in the theatre start to dim. Yoongi has just enough experience of the theatre to expect the booming voice that asks the audience to turn off their phones, which both he and Namjoon scramble to do, before settling back into their seats. The rest of the audience, however, do not settle as quickly; people continue chatting excitedly, comparing costumes, taking pictures, right up until-
The sound of thunder rips through the theatre.
Both Yoongi and Namjoon flinch, but the rest of the room seems to revel in the shock of it as they break into applause, finally taking their seats. The chatter that fills the room starts to quieten as the rest of the audience finds their places, and Yoongi can practically feel the buzz of anticipation that takes over. It’s then that the music starts up; a dramatic, upbeat piano and guitar tune accompanied by a voice coming from behind them. Yoongi, like the rest of the room, turns to find the owner of the voice. The room is still dark, save the green Emergency Exit lights, but by the door in which the audience had filed into, stands a girl illuminated by a bright spotlight. She’s wearing frilly pink shorts and pressed pink shirt with a large white collar, like an old-timey uniform. With a tray reading ‘strawberry ice-cream’ in hand, the woman descends down the aisle and up onto the stage as she sings.
If Yoongi is being truthful, the song kind of loses him a little. It’s hard to follow the subject matter, though he thinks he picks up on a couple of references to old Sci-Fi movies. When the song ends, Yoongi joins in with the applause that erupts from the room, just to be polite, though privately thinks it's a lot of fuss for a not overly overwhelming start.
The next song makes a little more sense, though still doesn’t manage to capture Yoongi completely. In truth, he’s growing bored and a little confused at the state of the musical so far; it’s tamer and more innocent than what Jungkook had hinted at. Of course, prior to coming here, Yoongi had only a loose handful of expectations and even less knowledge of what the show would entail, but when cast beside the abundance of red lipstick and corsets that are in the room right now, the character’s he sees on stage before him seem relatively normal; a sweet girl dressed in a modest pink dress and cardigan, a sturdy but not overly exciting man in thick-rimmed glasses, singing about their engagement.
Yoongi leans back in his chair and watches politely. He wonders if he’d be able to sneak out at some point, just for a few moments, just to check his phone or do literally anything else. He’s growing bored, can’t help but fidget with his sleeves just for something to do as the couple sing their sweet, boring duet.
The next song, however, begins to take a turn. Whilst the music is still sweet and melodic, the lighting gets progressively dimmer, signalling a change in the setting. Midway through the song, an eerie voice takes over, echoing in the theatre, and Yoongi feels a little more confident that maybe it won’t be a totally boring experience after all.
He’s proven right when the next scene begins; the couple enters some kind of castle, shaking and terrified. Yoongi is sure he sees other characters lurking in the background, squints to make them out, when three jump out all at once. One; a man hunched over with a bald cap and a black suit, hobbling over to the couple with an eyebrow raised; another, a pretty guy with sharp red hair, dolled up in thick make-up and a sequined jacket; the last, a-
Oh.
Oh.
Yoongi’s eyes widen to take in the sight of the last guy. He’s pretty dolled up too; Yoongi notes the rouge on his lips, the dark, bold kohl and large, exaggerated black eye-lashes that frame both the top and bottom of his eyes. His bright orange hair is curled tightly, falling haphazardly atop his head and bouncing when he moves. The dress he wears, (something that resembles a maid’s outfit, though one more suited to the type aimed at women for Halloween), pulls in at the waist and stops barely mid-way down his thigh, forcing Yoongi to notice how slender he is, how his form is both delicate and sharp. His eyes catch on the guy’s legs; tanned and toned to the nines, as he moves about the stage. At one point, the guy hitches up the dress just enough for the audience to see that his black stockings are pulled high up his thigh, kept up with garters clipped onto his black underwear.
Yoongi watches him, transfixed, throughout the entire number that follows. It’s a lot more upbeat, a little rougher than what has preceded; something more rock and roll than musical theatre that Yoongi doesn’t expect but can’t say he dislikes. When the man playing the maid begins his part, Yoongi sits up a little in his seat, taking in every lyric.
It’s hypnotic, the way the man sings to the audience as he glides across the stage, stepping briefly into the audience to sing directly to the people in the front row. There’s something seductive about him, though at the same time something distinctly dark and sinister about the character. As he sings his part, more characters are flood onto the stage; sporting an array of glittery corsets and stockings, just like the audience. Around Yoongi, people are getting up out of their seats to dance along to the song as the chorus begins once more. Though it’s a relatively simple dance, Yoongi remains in his seat. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Namjoon fiddling awkwardly with the programme in his hands.
As the song ends, Yoongi expects the audience to settle somewhat, but even as the song dies out, they continue to murmur excitedly, nudging each other as the cast, minus the couple from earlier, fall to the ground. The air is still for a moment, before the music starts to build up again, and a large metal cage starts to descend onto the stage.
“Jesus, what was the budget for this?” Yoongi hears Namjoon hiss beside him.
On stage, the cast is starting to get up, staring at the cage as a man steps out of it.
“Holy fuck-”
He’s dressed perhaps the most scandalously of all the characters so far; large white pearls around his neck, a corset that hides little of the tan skin of his stomach and chest, small, black briefs with a lacy hem that leave little the imagination, fish-net stockings and large, platform heels. As he nears the front of the stage, Yoongi takes in his face; large, rouged lips and blue eyeshadow that is blended to his eyebrows. When he turns, Yoongi spots a large heart-shaped tattoo with a dagger through it, with words he can’t make out printed above it.
“We’re at the right show, right?”
Before Yoongi can reply, the music starts once more, and that’s when everything goes completely insane.
*✧ ✰ 。*
Jungkook is practically bouncing when he meets them in the aisle once the show is over, a large, expecting smile on his face as he waves them over. Around them, the audience are filing out, singing lines from the show’s songs and commenting on costumes and performances. Yoongi moves out the way from a girl he now recognises as the character of Riff-Raff; an alien butler whose motivations are still lost on Yoongi.
“I rushed from backstage after I did the last bit of make-up, and I managed to catch the last song!” Jungkook says as Yoongi and Namjoon join him, “what did you think?”
Yoongi and Namjoon both look at each other, faces mirroring their confusion, then look at Jungkook who is still smiling like he has no idea what show they’d just watched. After a moment, Namjoon clears his throat.
“You didn’t warn us it’d be so…”
“Gay?” Jungkook suggests.
“Not just gay, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi says. “I’m gay. But the show was…”
Jungkook smile widens, his buck teeth making him look all the more mischievous, like getting his hyungs to witness perhaps the wildest, most immoral show ever written was some kind of trick. Maybe it was, now that Yoongi thinks about it. He does seem pretty delighted in the face of their confusion. “Amazing?”
Yoongi looks at Namjoon again to confirm their feelings, then back at Jungkook with a firm look. “Fucking crazy.”
“It was good, of course,” Namjoon adds, quickly, obviously not wanting to discourage Jungkook’s first pursuit into show business. “Everyone was super talented, but man, what the hell even happened towards the end? Were they really aliens?”
“And why were they all wearing corsets at the end?”
“Seriously, what was the corset budget for this?”
“Why did the doctor have sex with everyone?”
“Did they all really eat that dude on the motorbike?”
Jungkook laughs at the questions as he begins to lead them up and onto the stage. The majority of the room has filed out now, and no one pays them any mind as Jungkook directs them to slip past the curtains to the backstage space. There are a couple of technicians tinkering around, they nod as Jungkook passes.
“I didn’t think I would feel bad for the doctor,” Namjoon says, talking with his hands as Jungkook directs them around a series of wires. “But when he sang that song- that I’m going home song- I swear, I choked up a little.”
“That’s one of my favourites,” Jungkook says, sounding awe-inspired. “Isn’t Taehyung amazing? He loves Tim Curry; he was so nervous about reprising his role. But he really pulled it off, right? All that confidence and flamboyance and-” He pauses suddenly, like he’s only just realised he’s gushing.
“So, that was the elicit Taehyung that you’ve been talking about non-stop,” Yoongi says slyly, poking Jungkook’s side as he recalls the character in the pearls that had struck him, the doctor Frank-n-Furter. “You’re right, he is hot. And his boyfriend-”
“Seokjin,” Jungkook reminds him, blushing a little. “He played Rocky. The one in the golden shorts.”
Yoongi thinks back to the character; a tall, broad man squeezed into a pair of shiny, golden boxer shorts that had almost made his tongue loll out of his head. His expectations of him had been confirmed; he is ridiculously handsome.
“Jesus. How did you even survive rehearsals with those two?”
Jungkook sighs wistfully as he leads them into a small corridor. “It was tough, but I’m a professional.”
They’re quiet for a moment, before Yoongi speaks again. “You got a boner, right?”
“At least ten since we started practising.”
Yoongi snorts at that but decides to leave the teasing for later when Jungkook stops in front of one of the back-stage doors. Taped to the door is a piece of paper with a hasty ‘rocky horror cast’ scribbled on it, and a couple of crude little drawings of the characters from the show.
“Nice,” Yoongi says, smiling at the doodle of Brad being bent over by one of the female characters Yoongi can’t remember the name of.
“Taehyung is also an artist,” Jungkook says, a little proudly.
“Who’s the one who played the maid?” Yoongi remembers to ask suddenly, tries to keep his voice casual. The man had continued to captivate him throughout the show; his character had grown more sinister as it had progressed, though it’s his costume change in the second act that is stuck in Yoongi’s brain now. He tries not to think about it, doesn’t want to sound too eager just now, but still feels a little tingly at the prospect of actually meeting the guy.
“Magenta?” Jungkook answers, pushing the door open with his shoulder. “That’s Hobi-hyung. Hoseok. Why?”
Yoongi shrugs. Jungkook raises an eyebrow like he wants to question his intrigue further, but the minute he steps into the room he’s grabbed by at least six pairs of hands.
“Jungkookie!” someone shouts. “Did you see the last number? Was it good? Did it sound okay?”
Yoongi and Namjoon slip into the room behind Jungkook, a little unsure of what to do with themselves now they’re surrounded by feather boas, sequins and excited voices. Many people seem to be talking about the show; some worrying about lines they missed up, laughing about the adlibs from the crowd. A couple of people are wiping the make-up from their faces; Yoongi spots Taehyung wiping the red, shiny lipstick from his mouth before kissing Jungkook’s cheek. Up close, Yoongi can see the obviously fake tattoo more clearly, finds that the words printed above him read out ‘BOSS’.
“You did amazing, Kookie!” he says warmly. “We looked amazing.”
In what Yoongi assumes is an attempt to distract from the blush that is rapidly rising on his cheeks, Jungkook gropes behind him and grabs onto the first thing he feels, which happens to be Namjoon’s sweater. He pulls him forward, introducing him to the crowd quickly.
Yoongi goes to stalk away to avoid being poked and prodded by the room as Namjoon is being now, when a voice stops him.
“Hey, it’s you!”
He turns towards the sound, stunned to see the man he’d been quietly mooning over just a moment before, smiling at him in the mirror. He’s mostly out of costume now, wearing a large white t-shirt that swallows his frame rather than the tight, shiny dress he’d worn for his last scene. He’s still wearing the thick, black false lashes on his eyes and appears to be half-way through removing the white foundation from his face, the skin slightly red from where he’s been rubbing at it with a make-up wipe. His hair, slightly damp with sweat, is pulled back with a head-band.
“Me?” Yoongi says, trying not to gawp.
“Yeah, I noticed you once or twice in the crowd. You were sat near the front, right? The guy who looked like he was on the verge of having the time of his life but was too freaked to actually enjoy himself.”
Yoongi laughs, a little embarrassed but at the same time feeling a rush down his spine at the knowledge that Hoseok had noticed him. “I’m Yoongi, my friend Jungkook is the make-up guy, he got us tickets.”
“Ah, yeah, he’s mentioned you a few times. I’m Hoseok. Or, Magenta.”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“Sure. He thinks a lot of you. He mentioned really wanting you to come to the show, to see all his handy-work.”
“He did a really good job,” Yoongi says, staring intently as Hoseok wipes the rest of his red lipstick from his lips.
“You think so?” Hoseok says. If Yoongi let himself think about it, he might have agonised over the slightly sultrily tone of Hoseok’s voice. “So, you’re a virgin, then, I assume?”
Yoongi’s eyes go wide. “E-excuse me?”
The laugh that Hoseok gives in response isn’t a cruel one, though does imply an inside joke that Yoongi is certainly not privy to.
“I’ll take that question, and your apparent shyness, as a yes. Virgins are just what we call newbies to the Rocky Horror experience.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says, laughing nervously and hoping his cheeks aren’t too red. “Yeah I am, then, I guess. I had fun, though. Really,” he adds, when Hoseok gives him a dubious look. “I guess I was just a little shocked. It’s kinda…”
“A lot?” Hoseok offers. Yoongi nods.
“Yeah. It’s not the most conservative. We had a job convincing the University to let us do it, but Seokjin-hyung’s dad is a major supporter of us, finically and just in general, helped us out. He loves the show. You’d actually be surprised how many of the stuffy-seeming professors like it too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! A couple of them dressed up tonight, even. Though I think they stuck in the back.”
“I see,” Yoongi says, as Hoseok begins to rub some kind of cream into his skin before wiping it with a towel, getting rid of the last bits of make-up residue on his face.
As he does so, Yoongi takes a second to glance back at where Jungkook is listening to something Seokjin is saying. The older man is talking animatedly; speaking quickly from the looks of it and flailing his arms around. Taehyung is latched to his side, watching him adoringly as he leads the conversation, then giggling when he does some kind of awkward dance move, illustrating whatever story he’s telling. Yoongi wonders if it hurts Jungkook to see them like that, wonders if it’s maybe something he ought to talk to him about once they leave.
“So, you’ll come again?”
Yoongi turns back to Hoseok, who is twisted in his seat and staring at him properly now, face bare. “Again?”
“Every night is a little different, new adlibs and different audience participations.”
“Oh.” Yoongi nods. Throughout the show, the audience had shouted out crude responses to the cast as they’d said their lines. Even with his limited knowledge of musical theatre, Yoongi had expected the cast to seem offended with what he believed had been heckling, but the cast had lapped it up. Sometimes agreeing with the responses, or else giggling slightly when their character was called something rude.
“Plus,” Hoseok continues, “you can’t come to Rocky in your civis. You need a costume. I can see you making a fine Transylvanian. Or maybe a Rocky, if you’re up to that.”
“Are you kidding?” Yoongi says, cheeks definitely heating up from the prospect of Hoseok seeing him in nothing but tight, gold pants. “I’m not sexy enough to play Rocky,” he admits, then immediately regrets how self-deprecating it sounds.
“Please, Rocky’s whole thing is sitting there and looking pretty; you’d be fine.”
Yoongi feels a rush of something trickle down his back at the compliment, hopes this, at least, doesn’t show in his face. Hoseok merely smirks.
“I don’t have the confidence,” Yoongi replies once he’s gotten over the shock of being complimented, more for the sake of saying something than anything else.
“No one is asking you to stand up on stage and sing. But being a part of something like this, being one of the misfit degenerates, even in a small way,” Hoseok turns back to the mirror, but continues looking at Yoongi through it, “I think you might surprise yourself with how much you enjoy it.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to reply but is cut off when one of the cast members stumbles over to them and throws his arms around Hoseok from behind, smiling at him in the mirror. Though he’s no longer in his make-up, Yoongi recognises the red hair and the soft, pillowy lips and places his character.
“Hobi-hyung! Come drink with us!”
“Jiminie, I was talking to someone!” Hoseok snaps, though it’s with affection.
The guy turns, smiling widely at Yoongi and stumbling a little, like he’s already started drinking. Yoongi glances downwards, sees that the guy is still wearing his heeled tap-shoes. “You’re another one of Kookie’s friends, right? Namjoon is so cute!”
Yoongi nods. “Yoongi.”
“Jimin. Though in my heart, Columbia,” he adds, hands over his chest.
“You were amazing.”
Jimin beams at that. “Come drink with us!”
“Ah, I don’t think I-”
“You should!” Hoseok interjects before Yoongi can fully form his answer. He turns in his chair so he’s facing him again, shifting a little so Jimin can perch himself on the make-up table, legs swinging. “There’s this little student bar a couple of streets away we love, Kookie will be coming. And your other friend too, probably, if Jimin has taken a liking to him.”
Jimin continues to beam, nodding to confirm he will be attempting to drag Namjoon along. Hoseok looks up at him hopefully, and if Yoongi allowed himself to believe it, his eyes might have been pleading. It almost makes him want to say yes.
“I’m sorry. I really can’t.”
Jimin pouts, then, but doesn’t attempt to convince Yoongi, which he appreciates. His whole first year had been a series of people asking him to come out with them, and him either politely declining, or awkwardly agreeing and having miserable nights and regrettable mornings-after. He likes that his friendships with Jungkook and Namjoon are never strained with the pressures of going out all the time; all of them more introverted and partial to quiet, relaxing evenings.
His attraction to Hoseok, though, is of course enough to tempt him in this instance. There’s something about him that makes Yoongi want to talk to him more, but he knows all too well he’s never been good in a bar setting. If he actually wants to get to know him, or rather, if he wants Hoseok to get to know him, standing awkwardly in a bar seems like a poor way to proceed. Still, he feels bad for saying no, wants to give Hoseok some heads up that he’s enjoyed talking to him, wouldn’t mind doing so again.
“Maybe next time,” he says when he can’t think of anything else to say.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Hoseok says, with a wink that Yoongi is sure only he catches.
Yoongi had hovered over the idea of going to see the show again the day after the first time. There’d been some debate in his head about appearing eager, about perhaps holding back and seeing the show at a later showing. If he’d talked to another, rational person about it, they might have told him that Hoseok probably wouldn’t assume anything about Yoongi’s interest in him, that Rocky Horror is a show that can never be seen just once, anyway. Still, his head had tangled with the need to hold back a little.
By now, though, he’s seen the show three times, and his worries have mostly dispersed and been replaced by complete admiration for the way Hoseok throws himself into the role every night. He’s a little more acquainted with the show now, too, has a better idea of what’s actually going on in the story, and knows the songs well enough to join in during the choruses. He’d looked up Hoseok’s character in between shows too. She’d been played by a white woman in the film and stage productions, which hadn’t appealed much to Yoongi, but he could appreciate her presence and the way she’d defined the role. Like Hoseok, she’d played the part almost twisted, with something menacing and bewitching about her, particularly in the outfit from the second act.
Yoongi likes the outfit that Hoseok wears in the second act.
On the first night, he’d felt a little weird admiring Hoseok in it, like he was some weirdo gawking at an attractive guy in a set of black, lacy lingerie, stockings and a sheer, barely-there dress that scooped well below his bra. His look is a little more dishevelled by this point in the show; hair wilder, something in his eyes a little darker. Something that, at first, Yoongi had shied away from. He’d shied away from the whole thing, really; the show is beyond anything else he’s ever seen, makes him uncomfortable, the sheer immorality of it all.
And yet, it’s the way it gets under his skin that Yoongi thinks he likes best about it, apart from Hoseok, of course. He likes watching something he knows his mother would flinch away from, likes seeing all the men dolled up, wearing lingerie and corsets and thigh-highs. It’s the sort of stuff that’s always been stuck somewhere in the back of his mind, something he’s always wondered about. He could never do what these guys do, parading everything in front of everyone, but something about the show makes him feel like maybe it’s not so beyond him to do something like this. To express a part of himself that’s, so far, gone untouched and unexplored.
Like a virgin, he thinks with a smile. Plays the song from the show in his head. Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me.
As the lights dim, Yoongi sits up in his seat, clutching his programme that Jungkook had got signed for him (Hoseok had signed his name with a little heart), ready for the first song to begin. Yoongi opens his mouth, ready to sing along with the first lyric.
Yoongi is a little ashamed to admit just how much he thinks about Rocky Horror these days. If it’s not catching himself humming one of the songs, or sketching one the characters in his notebooks (one character in particular a firm favourite of his to draw), then he’s talking with Jungkook about attending the next show. As far as Jungkook, or anyone really, knows, Yoongi is simply an avid fan. And since his confidence hasn’t yet served him well enough for him to ask Hoseok out, he’d rather keep his little crush a secret for a while longer.
It’s after a long, gruelling lecture and tutorial that Yoongi is returning home, Rose Tint My World swirling around in his head as he stands in a coffee shop intending to treat himself to the biggest cup-size they offer, when he’s being tapped on the shoulder from behind. He turns, finding the gracing presence of Jung Hoseok standing behind him in line, a large beam filling his face.
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi!”
Yoongi almost chokes on his own tongue. By now, Yoongi has grown accustomed to seeing Hoseok’s face plastered with stage make-up, wearing a dress or a bra or something to that effect. It’s bewildering to see him looking so plain; a clean, bare face, a simple university sweat-shirt and jeans. He’s still striking, of course, his face not something so easily subdued.
“You remember me?” Yoongi asks, stupidly. “I mean, sorry, hi. Hey.”
Hoseok laughs. He has dimples when he smiles. Because of fucking course he does. “Sure I remember you, we only met two weeks ago,” Hoseok says cheerily. Been seeing you at a few of the shows, too.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says, like it’s no big deal that Hoseok has been noticing him in the crowd, just like the first time, like that information is certainly not something he’s going to obsess over the next time he goes to see the show. “Yeah, I’ve really been enjoying seeing it when I can.”
“Really?” Hoseok’s eyes light up.
“Yeah, I love it now.”
“That's amazing!” Something in Yoongi tells him that Hoseok is being completely genuine when he says it, and it makes him smile. “Seriously, means a lot to me that we’ve converted you. It’s a tough show, because it has so many fans but also because it’s so wacky and not all the people who haven’t seen it get it right away, you know?”
Yoongi nods, liking the way Hoseok’s voice picks up when he gets excited.
“So, every show you’re trying to convince people to love it as much as you do. And when they do, it’s like you’re inviting someone else into the weirdo little Rocky Horror family. What I'm trying to say is, thanks for liking it, for seeing it so many times.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” Yoongi says, sad to end the conversation, but not wanting to keep Hoseok any longer.
“So, you wanna sit down?”
“Huh?”
“Sit down?” Hoseok repeats with a smile. “Drink your coffee with me? It’s fine if you’re like, with someone or-”
“I’m not! Definitely not,” Yoongi sputters out before he can compose himself. He coughs, calms his voice. “I can sit with you.”
“Great. What’re you drinking?”
“I’m just getting an iced americano.”
“Yeah? Go find a seat, I’ll bring it over.”
“Hoseok-”
“My treat, Yoongi-ssi. For saying thanks for seeing the show so many times.”
“Hyung is fine.”
“Okay, hyung. Go sit down.”
Yoongi finds them a table, picks one by the window with big, squishy armchairs, and clears it from discarded cups and empty sugar packets. He sits for a moment, but feels too nervous waiting for Hoseok, so grabs a napkin from the little condiment station and gives the table a wipe down too. He’s seconds away from tidying the table beside them while he’s at it, when Hoseok makes his way over, carrying their drinks.
“One large iced-americano,” Hoseok says, setting Yoongi’s drink in front of him and quickly taking a sip of his own ice-tea. “You look like you needed the bigger size, no offence, hyung.” Yoongi swears he falls a little bit in love with him.
The talk comes easily after that, more easily than Yoongi had expected it would. Of course, he’s met Hoseok before, got on reasonably well with him, but still he’d almost anticipated some kind of barrier to present itself between them if they ever got put in a setting like this. Something about Hoseok’s brightness, the easy confidence, the boldness of his presence, had made it seem like perhaps they wouldn’t gel together, at least not as smoothly as Yoongi might like to.
Yoongi has always considered himself as being reasonably self-assured, though a little shy at times. In terms of his talent and his principles, at least, he’s confident enough, but there’s something different in the way he holds himself. He’s quiet and subdued, not quite as obviously there as Hoseok, and yet somehow, they hold up conversation together easily, talking laps around each other with ease.
“So Jungkookie told me you’re studying social sciences?”
Yoongi nods. “Masters.”
Hoseok is sitting with his face framed by his hands, held up with his elbows on the table. It’s endearing, if a little nerve-wracking, the way he’s giving Yoongi his full, undivided attention. Of course, it means Yoongi has a chance to gaze at him too, the first time he’s seen Hoseok so natural and so close-up. In the last ten minutes or so he’s picked out the mole carefully dotted on Hoseok’s upper lip, the subtle pouch of his under-eyes. Dimples, too, he’s definitely made note of the dimples. Several times, in fact.
“That’s amazing,” Hoseok says, again sounding so genuine it makes Yoongi’s heart ache.
“What about you? I don’t even know what you do when you’re not Magenta.”
Hoseok laughs at that. His laugh is more of a giggle than anything, Yoongi has noticed. It’s cute, makes him seem innocent. It’s weird, the contrast he’s drawn from Hoseok on stage, and Hoseok as he sits before him now. Both light and dark, somehow Hoseok has perfected them both.
“I’m studying literature.”
“Really?”
Hoseok nods, tilting his head to the side.
“I thought you’d be a Musical Arts student.”
“I get that a lot,” Hoseok says, still smiling. “I do love theatre and performing, of course, it’s why I joined the society. Just wanted to keep it as more of a hobby, you know? I dance professionally during high-school, though.”
Yoongi nods, understanding. “I play the piano, it’s nice to keep that separate.”
“You do? I didn’t know you were into music too! Can you sing?”
Yoongi laughs nervously, sitting back in his chair. “No, no. Definitely not.”
“Are you being modest with me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’ll bet you’re amazing at the piano. You should come to one of our rehearsals sometime, we like to sing with live music all we can.”
“I’d love to play for you,” Yoongi says, before he can think. For a moment, he thinks he’s played it a little too eager, before he sees the grin on Hoseok’s face that follows.
*✧ ✰ 。*
When it’s time to leave, Yoongi feels far more invigorated after their conversation than coffee alone could have ever achieved. Where he’d expected a kind of theatrical distance from Hoseok, he’d found him to be quite a genuine, albeit a little reserved in regard to himself, guy. He’d asked Yoongi about his degree, about the piano, about his friendship with Jungkook, all the while never feeling invasive or pushy. The conversation had flowed as if they’d known each other a long, long time. It’s something he hasn’t experienced since he met Namjoon, something he never dreamed would happen with someone he was so infatuated with.
As they leave the coffee shop, around an hour after they’d bumped into each other, Yoongi lets himself watch as Hoseok takes his headphones from his bag and sets them around his neck.
“So, you gonna come tomorrow?” Hoseok asks him, already lining up a song to play on his phone.
“I’m not sure.” There’s another show tomorrow. Yoongi hadn’t been planning on attending, really needs to get a head start on his project.
“Well, I’d like to see you.”
“You would?”
“Yeah. With a show like this, a large audience is everything.”
“Ah, right.”
It shouldn’t surprise Yoongi, really, that Hoseok is just hoping for a full house. He tries not to feel too disheartened, tries instead to hold on to the fact that Hoseok had just voluntarily spent a whole hour with him, had bought him two drinks and had asked him about his life. He wonders if maybe Hoseok has realised in that time just how plain he is, how much his whole demeanour contrasts with the wildness of the show; the energy, the loudness, the sexuality. Not for the first time, Yoongi wonders if maybe he’s too boring for a thing like Rocky Horror. Too boring for a guy like Hoseok.
“I won’t keep you anymore,” Yoongi says, trying to sound cheerier. “I ought to-”
“Oh, of course,” Hoseok says, still smiling. “I ought to be heading to the drama club meeting, do you know if Jungkookie will be coming tonight?”
“I think he mentioned something about a study group tonight.”
“Ah, that’s a shame.” There’s a pause. Yoongi scuffs his shoe against the pavement. “Hey, you don’t wanna come with, do you?”
“Me?”
“Sure! Come hang out with us. It’s just a couple of hours, we mostly just talk and sing a little. It’s fun.”
“Oh, urm-”
“Don’t feel compelled,” Hoseok says, quickly. “I expect an hour of me was quite heavy going, you probably wanna-”
“Not at all,” Yoongi says just as quick, something warm spilling in his chest. “I’d loved to come.”
Somehow, Hoseok’s face manages to get brighter at that.
*✧ ✰ 。*
The meeting is held in one of the big, open studios in the University’s arts building. Yoongi is mostly quiet as Hoseok introduces him to everyone, nods politely and greets them as they pull chairs from the stack in the corner of the room and arrange them haphazardly into something that resembles a circle around a large, sleek black piano. The kind that Yoongi always itches to play whenever he finds one. There’s a large folder sitting on top of it that Yoongi can only assume is filled to the brim with sheet music.
“We don’t really tend to sit for very long,” Hoseok says, leading Yoongi to the back of the room so they can grab their own chairs, “we like to get up and dance most of the time. People play music and stuff. If there’s any issues happening in the show, we iron them out, but there’s nothing on the agenda today, I don’t think.”
True to Hoseok’s word, the meeting turns out to be a pretty relaxed time. Seokjin leads the start of the conversation, sat confidently on top of the piano as he reads out notes from the last performance, mentioning people who won’t be present for a particular performance, points out who will take their place. It’s a big group, and Hoseok explains to Yoongi quietly that it’s important every gets their turn to perform at least once, if they want to.
Once the admin is over, Seokjin slips from the piano and motions towards the instrument, asks for anyone willing to lead them in their first song to stand up.
“Yoongi-hyung will play us something!” Hoseok proclaims before anyone else can volunteer, like he’s just been waiting for Seokjin’s speech to be over. Seokjin nods and takes his seat beside Taehyung, and Hoseok leaps up and tugs at Yoongi’s sleeve until he rises with him. He lets Hoseok pull him to the piano stool, then grabs the large folder and flicks through it.
“Any preferences, hyung?”
“Are they all show tunes?”
Hoseok looks up, smiling mischievously.
“Just hit me with whatever.”
Still grinning, Hoseok slips some sheets from their pocket and lays them out on the stand for Yoongi to read. Memories by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Yoongi instantly recognises it, had gone through a whole term of hearing it from Namjoon’s bedroom, with Namjoon singing along to it, mostly off-key but never devoid of passion.
“It’s a slow one,” he comments, arranging the pages and looking up at Hoseok.
“Easy to keep up,” Hoseok says, with a wink. Yoongi flushes, turns back to the piano and starts to play before, and Hoseok starts to sing.
People groan when they realise what it is, and for a moment Yoongi worries it’s because of his playing. Before long, though, Jimin is rising from his chair and starting to harmonise alongside Hoseok, and Hoseok goes to him like this is a performance they have done before. Their familiarity with it implies they perform this a lot here, and Yoongi feels a little more confident that it’s just the fact they’re hearing it again that people are moaning. Neither Hoseok nor Jimin pays them any mind, of course, take it in turns lying across the piano and singing with agonising tones and dramatic gestures. This, at least, gets some laughs.
The boys bow once they’re finished, then gesture towards Yoongi to prompt applause. Yoongi blushes as everyone claps, ducking his head and returning to his seat, letting someone else take their turn at the piano. Hoseok stays and dances in the middle of the room as more songs are played, but after a while comes to sit beside him again, fanning his face.
“Not a dancer, then?” he asks Yoongi.
Yoongi shakes his head. “Fun to watch, though.” Yoongi stops, hopes Hoseok doesn’t take it the wrong way. “You’re good, is what I mean. Good at dancing. Good singer, too.” Yoongi wills himself to stop talking.
“Thank you,” Hoseok says, smiling softly at him and giggling. “You’re good on piano, we ought to do it more.”
“Something a bit bouncier than Memories?”
“Ah, we always start with a big, dramatic one! Me and Minie love duets.”
Yoongi goes to say something else, something about a song he might like to see Hoseok perform, but is overtaken by Time Warp being blasted on the stereo at the side of the room.
“Oh!” Hoseok explains excitedly, springing from his seat, scurrying to where he’d left his bag, pulling from it a small tube of lipstick. As the one of Hoseok’s friends starts to sing the opening lines, Hoseok catches Yoongi’s eye, smirking a little to see Yoongi staring at him as he applies the rouge to his lips. Once he’s finished, he strides back over with the lipstick still in hand, and without a word, plonks himself down in Yoongi’s lap.
“H-hi-” Yoongi says, spluttering a little.
“Hey,” Hoseok says, smiling. A little of his bright, shiny lipstick has gathered in the corner of his mouth, and before he can overthink it, Yoongi is lifting a hand to wipe it away his thumb. “Thanks.” He leans in a little closer to Yoongi’s face. “Can’t do Time Warp without lipstick.”
Yoongi grins nervously, eyes widening when he realises Hoseok’s next move. Before he can protest, Hoseok is sweeping the lipstick across Yoongi’s lips with a practiced hand, his free hand cupping his cheek to keep his face steady. Yoongi remains still, only moving when Hoseok blots his lips together to signal Yoongi should do the same. Yoongi copies him, finds his lips are tacky and wet but not all together hating the experience. Especially not with Hoseok on his lap. Especially not with Hoseok looping his arms around his neck as he begins to sing his lines in the song.
“It's so dreamy,” Hoseok sings, putting on his sultry Magenta voice, “oh, fantasy free me.” He leans back from Yoongi at this line, and Yoongi quickly grabs his waist to catch him, pulling him back up again.
“So you can't see me,” he continues, covering Yoongi’s eyes with his hand, “no, not at all.” He pulls it away again, quirking his eyebrows upwards once Yoongi can see him.
He continues like this, singing his lines directly to Yoongi, occasionally leaning back and letting Yoongi hold his weight, sometimes pressing closer to Yoongi as the lines grow more suggestive. Yoongi doesn’t want to look away, but Hoseok’s gaze is often so intense he finds himself looking to the room instead. Most of the group are dancing, but some, Yoongi notices, are watching the scene. Seokjin is included in this crowd, is smiling knowingly at them, like Hoseok is known for this. He winks when Yoongi catches his eye.
It’s then that he feels Hoseok’s fingers under his chin, turning his head back to look at him again. He sings his next line for Yoongi only, the line that Yoongi had admitted to being his favourite when they’d discussed it over coffee, the one about sensation, and then plants a kiss straight on Yoongi’s cheek.
The chorus that follows seems to go in slow motion after that. Hoseok springs up from Yoongi’s lap to dance with the rest, leaving Yoongi to sit with the kiss burning on his cheek. He watches as Hoseok is pulled in by his cast members, laughing as he begins to throw his hands up in accordance to the music, wiggling his hips when the lyrics tell him to. Yoongi remains sitting back in his seat, can’t quite bring himself to move and dance with the rest.
As Jimin begins his part, tap-dancing along to his lyrics, Yoongi catches Hoseok’s eye again. Hoseok winks at him again, and Yoongi wills himself not to blush. He averts his gaze, instead zoning in on Seokjin once more, sat in his seat observing the scene alone. Yoongi cocks his head, wonders why he’s being so subdued suddenly, and wanders over to him.
“You’re not dancing, Seokjin-ssi?” Yoongi asks, sitting beside him.
“I’ll go for the next one, had a long day,” Seokjin says with a smile. He’s watching as Taehyung spins the girl who plays Janet around in circles, his boxy smile bright as he does it. When he notices Seokjin watching he blows him a kiss, which Seokjin accepts then sends back. Yoongi’s heart suddenly aches for Jungkook again.
“How long have you been together?”
Seokjin turns to him, eyebrow raised.
“Sorry,” he says, quickly, realising how forward the question is, since he doesn’t even really know the guy. “Jungkookie talks about you a lot. I mean, not you particularly. Just. You guys. In general. The group.”
“It’s fine,” Seokjin says, his voice a little quieter than Yoongi has grown used to. “Two years, coming up to it.”
“You guys are really cute together.”
Seokjin smiles shyly at that. “Thank you. How long have you and Jungkook been friends?”
“Since we were younger. Parents were friends, practically brothers, that kind of deal.”
Seokjin nods. “He thinks a lot of you.”
“He thinks a lot of you, too.”
Seokjin smiles at that. “I know.”
Yoongi tilts his head, wants to inquire further, but the pair are interrupted when Taehyung appears from nowhere, pulling Seokjin’s hands from his lap and plonking himself there instead. “Hi,” he says with a smile, then leans in to peck Seokjin’s lips. “Sorry.”
“I was having a nice conversation,” Seokjin moans, but seems perfectly happy with the new arrangement as he winds his arms around Taehyung’s waist, pulling him closer and perching his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder.
“What’re you guys talking about?”
“Jungkookie.”
“Ah, he’s cute.”
“Cuter than me?”
“Yes. You’re more handsome.”
Yoongi turns his head away as the two flirt with one another, chooses to watch Hoseok instead as he leads a couple of his friends through a small dance number. Yoongi doesn’t recognise it, doesn’t think it’s from the show, but watches with interest anyway. Hoseok really is a good dancer, moves with ease across the floor and shows expertise as he slows down the moves to show everyone. They watch him closely, with obvious respect for his talent, before they follow along with him. He counts out the moves and watches them all in the mirror as they go, smiling when they get it right.
Suddenly, Yoongi feels a little wistful that there aren’t more dancing parts in Rocky Horror, thinks that if the costume and the make-up wasn’t enough to highlight Hoseok, his dancing would certainly make him shine that bit brighter on stage.
“-Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi turns at the mention of his name, finds both Taehyung and Seokjin regarding him closely, each with a little smirk on their face.
“Huh?” Yoongi stutters, a blush surely rising on his cheek.
“I said, you still have red on you,” Taehyung repeats, reaching out to tap Yoongi’s cheek where Hoseok had kissed him. Yoongi pulls out his phone, checks the large, red lip-stick stain that Hoseok had left on him. He can see now how close to his lips Hoseok had caught him, almost flirting on the corners of his mouth. He goes to wipe it off, but Taehyung stops him.
“Don’t, or you’ll make a bigger mess. I’ll go ask Hoseokie for a make-up wipe.” He lands another kiss on Seokjin’s lips, then scurries away quickly.
Yoongi feels Seokjin watching him as he continues to check his reflection. The red lipstick looks good on him. His lips, that is, Hoseok had applied it reasonably neatly. It makes him look paler, of course, and he might be biased in thinking that Hoseok definitely pulls it off better than he does, but overall, he doesn’t hate the colour against his skin, wonders if maybe Jungkook could help him find a more flattering hue.
“So, is this about the time I warn you to treat Hoseok nicely?”
Lowering his phone, Yoongi looks at Seokjin hesitantly. He opens his mouth, for a moment wondering if he should just deny it. He’s had no one question it so far, hasn’t told even Jungkook about his little crush. Up until now, it didn’t even seem worth mentioning; he could at least put it down to being enticed by the thrill of Rocky Horror and nothing else. But after their coffee, after seeing Hoseok in his element, having fun with his friends, it’s obvious to Yoongi now that there’s more to how he feels than lust, and whether Hoseok feels the same or not, people are bound to pick up on Yoongi’s side of the deal at least. He figures, then, there’s nothing to be lost by telling a stranger. Especially a stranger like Seokjin, who doesn’t seem the type to be too concerned with spreading gossip.
“Do you think you need to?” The words don’t come out as confident as Yoongi means them to, but if Seokjin picks up on the slight nervousness in his voice he doesn’t mention it, simply considers him for a moment before getting out of his seat. The music is changing now; someone new has taken over the piano.
“Not sure yet. Just know everyone in this room cares a lot for him. Keep it in mind, okay?”
“Got it.”
The older man nods, then moves to go and join Taehyung, who pulls him into a ridiculous dance. Immediately, Seokjin lights up and begins to play the fool, dancing around wildly until Taehyung is doubled-over in laughter. It’s completely uncoordinated, but Seokjin doesn’t seem to be too concerned with it, only that it’s making Taehyung cling to him tighter as he attempts to copy him. Yoongi smiles at the switch in character.
“Hey,” comes Hoseok’s voice from beside him as he takes up Seokjin’s empty seat. “You having fun?”
“It’s like a party,” Yoongi says with a nod. “Only no one is drunk, crying or high.”
“Your parties sound fun.”
Yoongi smiles.
“Jimin was asking about your friend Namjoon.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Wanted to know if he’s single.”
“He is very single. Desperately, actually. Tell Jimin he’s free anytime.”
Hoseok chuckles at that. “I’ll let him know.”
The air is a little stiff, awkward, makes Yoongi feel like maybe Hoseok is feeling weird about what he did. He tries to remember how he’d reacted, attempts to pull out any action he might have needed to apologise for. Putting his hands on Hoseok’s waist? He hadn’t asked, it’d just sort of happened. But then, Hoseok hadn’t asked to sit on his lap or kiss him, either. That had just happened too.
Just as Yoongi turns to speak, Hoseok leans in, pressing their shoulders together. “I’m sorry about before,” he says, voice low and sincere.
“What for?” Already knowing what for.
“You know, sitting on you and-” He looks at the smears of red on Yoongi’s lips and cheek. “Well, you know, all that. I just thought it’d be fun, but I shouldn’t have imposed on you like that. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry about it,” Yoongi says, meaning it. “Seriously, I didn’t mind.”
“Consent is still important. I’ll be sure to ask next time.”
Yoongi raises an eyebrow, can’t help smirking a little. “Next time?”
Hoseok smiles bashfully, a look only intensified when Yoongi bumps his shoulder. With the knowledge that Hoseok is not freaked out by his own actions, is at least thinking about maybe possibly doing it again, Yoongi feels a lot more cheerful. The air between them still feels a little strange, a little unsure, but in a better way now. A little more hopeful.
“It’s okay, seriously.” Hoseok looks up at him, doe eyes shiny. “It was nice seeing you like that. In your element, you know? You’re such an amazing performer. I was glad to be able to experience it so close.”
There’s a pause, and then Hoseok is reaching out with his hand, slow enough that Yoongi could catch it in his if he wanted to. He doesn’t, though, lets Hoseok cup his face with his fingers framing his face, his thumb rubbing over the smear of red on his cheek.
“You look nice in red,” he says, softly, “you should wear it more often.”
Yoongi swallows hard, doesn’t dare move much more than that lest Hoseok take his hand away. He’ll have to eventually, of course, but for a moment it’s nice to just enjoy it.
Yoongi sees more of Hoseok over the coming weeks. Not always on purpose, sometimes just happening to run into him around campus. The majority of the times he notices him, Hoseok has already seen him, already flagging him down to talk to him.
Sometimes, Hoseok is on his way to a theatre society meeting and asks Yoongi if he’s free. Others, Jungkook will be heading out to go to one, and Yoongi will just tag along. He likes the atmosphere at the meetings, hadn’t expected them to be so fun and casual. With the show such a success, everyone knowing their parts so well, they usually spend a good fraction of their time playing games. The last time he’d gone, a blind-folded Hoseok had pulled Yoongi in to lead him in a dance, and together they’d crafted a piece that had held a very poor resemblance to a tango. At least, that’s what Jimin had called it.
“Hoseok asked after you today, you know,” Jungkook comments airily one evening. There’s no show tonight, so Jungkook had roped Namjoon into getting his make-up done, and Yoongi had joined them while he studied.
Yoongi looks up from the book in his lap, to where Jungkook and Namjoon are sat cross-legged on the floor, facing one another as Jungkook carefully applies make-up to Namjoon’s face. He’s going for something fairly natural; he’d informed the room when Namjoon had hesitantly mentioned he maybe kind of wanted to just try it out.
“What?” Yoongi says when he realises Jungkook had been talking to him, tries to make his voice sound normal as he answers.
“Hobi hyung,” Jungkook confirms, picking up his eyeshadow palette and considering the colours against Namjoon’s skin, “he was asking how you are.”
“I…” Yoongi marks his place in his book and sets it beside him. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess- hyung, close your eyes- I guess because you guys are friends now? He wanted to know why- no, hyung, keep them closed ‘til I say- he wondered why you haven’t been to a show in the last week, he’s gotten used to seeing you there. And you’ve been coming to the group meetings a lot too, we all missed you there.”
Yoongi leans back in his seat, takes in the news that Hoseok had noticed his lack of presence. In truth, it’s hard to pin-point the exact reason he hasn’t been going to the shows this week. The first, and what he considers the official excuse is keeping up with his school-work; the thick volume beside him is evidence of his attempt to pass this semester. The second reason, though still valid in his head, is one he wouldn’t admit so readily. It’s more to do with the thought of appearing too eager, invading Hoseok with his presence all the time.
He’s missed him, of course, and he misses the show, the theatrical people he meets sometimes in the audience. He misses tagging along to rehearsals, has become quite well acquainted with Seokjin and Taehyung, and Jimin, of course, is always so friendly. He hasn’t given up the prospect of going to see the show again, just figured it’d be better to let it sit for a while, to appear more blasé. But if Hoseok has noticed his absence, does that say something for how often he was hanging around in the first place?
“What did you say?” Yoongi asks, picking up his book again to try and appear nonchalant. “When Hoseok asked you about me, I mean.”
“I told him to ask you himself and gave him your number.”
Yoongi slams his book shut again, not even bothering to mark his place this time. “You what?”
“Relax,” Jungkook says quickly, and though Yoongi can’t see his face he can practically hear his smirk. “I wouldn’t just do that without asking you, hyung. I told him you were really busy with school work. Although I really don’t think he would have minded getting it, if I’d offered,” he adds slyly.
Yoongi throws a cushion at him. He’s glad that Namjoon’s eyes are still closed, that Jungkook has his back to him, else they might have caught the small smile that plays on his lips before he smothers it down.
“Is something going on there, hyung?” Jungkook asks when Yoongi remains silent.
“What’d you mean?”
“Between you and Hoseokie-hyung. You guys got super close after you went for coffee that one time. He always flirts with you at rehearsals, too.”
Yoongi stops a little still. To the best of his memory, he hadn’t mentioned getting coffee with Hoseok, which means almost certainly that Hoseok had mentioned it to him. And the flirting… Well, he’d be lying if he said the word doesn’t spark warm in his chest.
“Not that close, he doesn’t even have my number. And he does not flirt.”
“Well, did you give him your number?” Yoongi notices the way he doesn’t mention the apparent flirting this time.
“No.”
“Then that’s probably why, hm? Is this even, do you think?” he asks, moving out of the way to show Yoongi the near identical smudges of eyeliner across Namjoon’s eyes.
Namjoon is blushing a little from having the attention focused on him, has been mostly quiet all evening from what Yoongi suspects is self-consciousness, or else just a relaxed state of bliss from having his make-up done. For all his force of character, Jungkook is exceedingly gentle with these sorts of things; Yoongi has had his make-up done a couple of times (mostly standing in as a practice model for Jungkook, but not the kind that model for his Instagram).
“I think so,” Yoongi says, appreciating then how soft Jungkook has made Namjoon look; how natural yet enhanced. “You look pretty Namjoon-ah.”
“Is pretty good?”
“Pretty is very good,” Jungkook answers, rubbing under Namjoon’s eye to catch an eyelash. “Jimin-hyung likes pretty.”
Namjoon splutters, opening his eyes suddenly.
“Why do you say that?”
“No reason,” Jungkook answers simply, now testing highlighters on the back of his hand. “Hoseok-hyung likes them pretty too.”
“Yah,” Yoongi says sharply, face heating up. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just that you’re in for a shot, hyung” Jungkook shrugs, getting to his feet suddenly. “You both are. I need another colour, stay there, Namjoonie-hyung.”
He’s gone for less than a minute, and in that time neither Yoongi nor Namjoon can quite meet the other’s eyes.
By the clocks count, Yoongi has been sat deliberating over this for the past hour and a half. He sighs, scrolling through the text messages he’d received two hours earlier.
Jungkookie [21:22]
Hyung show is done we’re going for drinks
Jungkookie [21:22]
Come
Jungkookie [21:23]
Namjoon is coming too
Jungkookie [21:26]
Read receipts are on, hyung
Yoongi [21:28]
Not tonight, kook
Yoongi [21:28]
Tired
Jungkookie [21:29]
( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )
Jungkookie [21:29]
Everyone is asking after you
Jungkookie [21:29]
Hobi wants you to come
Yoongi [21:30]
Tell him i’m sorry
Jungkookie [21:31]
Hyung :((
Yoongi [21:31]
How was the show?
Jungkookie [21:31]
Good
Jungkookie [21:31]
Come to the next one?
Yoongi [21:32]
I will
Jungkookie [21:33]
Promise?
Yoongi [21:35]
Sure
Jungkookie [21:35]
Good
Jungkookie [21:35]
;)
Yoongi [21:36]
What
Jungkook [21:37]
Just looking forward to seeing you
Jungkookie [21:37]
Would be nice to see you tonight too
Jungkookie [21:39]
Yoongi [21:40]
???
Yoongi [21:40]
Hoseok?
Jungkookie [21:41]
hehe yes >:3
Jungkookie [21:41]
I stole jungkookie’s phone
Jungkookie [21:41]
Well
Jungkookie [21:42]
He handed it to me
Jungkookie [21:42]
So i took pictures. Then I wanted to text u. I look cute, right? Haven’t taken my make-up off yet
Yoongi [21:44]
Yeah
Yoongi [21:44]
Yeah you do
Yoongi [21:44]
You’re really cute
Jungkookie [21:45]
Thanks, hyung ;3
Jungkookie [21:48]
Ok kookie is looking for his phone now
Jungkookie [21:49]
Please come out tonight hyung
Jungkookie [21:49]
Miss u ;-;
With a heavy sigh, Yoongi locks his phone and checks himself in the mirror once more. He’s stuck with the plain, simple black jeans he’d worn to his lecture this morning, and after much deliberation had changed into a black t-shirt that had a tendency to fall off his shoulder. He shakes his fingers through his hair, regarding it critically. He’d bleached it last week, or rather Jungkook had bleached it for him, and then dyed it silver. He’s still unsure if it's the right look for him. Well, he supposes, even if it’s not, there’s no changing it this evening.
Yoongi reaches into his pocket again, checks the last couple of messages, sent only ten minutes ago, before he heads out of the door.
Yoongi [23:15]
Are you still there
Jungkookie [23:23]
Where
Jungkookie [23:24]
Hyung im
Yoongi [23:24]
Kook?
Yoongi [23:24]
You okay??
Yoongi [23:25]
Are you at the bar?
Jungkookie [23:26]
At the bar
Jungkook [23:27]
[location sent]
*✧ ✰ 。*
. As Yoongi pushes his way into the place, he thinks to himself that it could almost be considered quaint, had it not been for the drunk people that surround him. It’s not nearly as dingy as he’d expected, however, though a little small and packed wall to wall with students. Jungkook has talked about this place a lot, told Yoongi that it’s mostly theatre and music students that hang out here.
It’s the students more than anything that stick out. From the abundance of glitter and sequins, Yoongi deduces that the majority of the people here tonight came straight from the show and stuck around. On the small stage that breaks up the dance floor in the centre of the room, there’s a large karaoke system where a group of girls in matching corsets are giggling their way through an Abba song.
Keen to get away from the crowd, Yoongi stands up on tip-toes, attempting to catch sight of at least one of his friends. He curses his height as he’s jostled and almost pushed over, makes his way to the bar where there is at least something to hold onto. As quaint as it may almost be, Yoongi hates places like this. Hates his space being invaded, hates the feeling of constantly touching at least one other person. It’s easier when there’s something to focus on, like a lecture or a performance, but here everything feels without direction or anchor. Makes his chest get tighter, body more acutely aware of everything until he can barely breathe with it all.
He’s about to pull out his phone when someone is tapping him on the shoulder. He turns, finds Seokjin looking at him with a large glass of water in his hand.
“Hey,” the older man says, with a tone of surprise that tells him he hadn’t been expecting to see Yoongi here tonight.
“Hoseok kind of asked me to come,” Yoongi says, even though Seokjin hadn’t asked. “Have you seen him?”
“Jimin was on his watch, I’ve been keeping an eye on Tae and Jungkookie.”
“On his watch?”
Someone pushes into Yoongi, crushing him against the bar. Seokjin moves the glass he’s holding from one hand to the other, then positions himself until he’s sort of boxing Yoongi in, protecting him from the people pushing and shoving. Yoongi is grateful for the protection, doesn’t mind the feeling of Seokjin so close to him since it’s mostly benefitting him right now. “Thanks.”
Seokjin nods. “Hoseokie had a few too many,” he says, answering Yoongi’s question. “We started right after the show, had some pre-drinks at the theatre.”
“Oh.”
That would explain the texts, then. Yoongi’s heart sinks a little.
“Are you okay? You seem a little shaky.”
“I don’t like crowds,” Yoongi says, shrinking a little at the confession.
“Me neither,” Seokjin admits. “You wanna go find Hobi? I think it’s time we all went home anyway.”
“Sure,” Yoongi says, not quite mustering the words to thank Seokjin for this proposal. “Just gotta pee.”
Seokjin directs him towards the toilets, leaves him with a rough idea of where the group will be waiting for him when he gets out. Yoongi pushes his way into a stall, breathes hard as he tries to calm himself. This happens sometimes, he reminds himself, everything is okay. His friends are out there, all he needs is a moment to catch his breath, then he’ll be okay. He curses, hates the tight feeling in his chest. Hates that all it took was being jostled in a bar to get him to this state.
As someone else stumbles into the bathroom, Yoongi pinches his wrist hard and focuses on the pain of it. He’s not crying, not quite yet, which is good. He just needs to compose himself enough to walk back out again.
He’s got his hand on the door when he hears the person on the other side curse, their voice high and obviously intoxicated. He pushes out of his stall to find Hoseok, washing his hands in the basin.
Before Hoseok has a chance to notice him, Yoongi takes in the sight of him from behind; his black, sheer shirt hangs loose on his upper half, but the material still barely disguises his small waist. The shirt is tucked into tiny, tattered shorts and his legs are wrapped tight in black fishnets that go all the way up for what seems like miles.
“Hyung?” Hoseok says when he spots Yoongi in the mirror, whipping around quickly and spraying Yoongi with water. He beams when he’s confirmed that Yoongi really is standing there, quickly wipes his wet hands on his shorts. “You’re here! You came! Your hair!”
All at once, Yoongi’s mind goes blank. He simply nods, trying to match Hoseok’s smile. From the front, he notices the shirt is more low-cut, revealing Hoseok’s golden skin and the glitter that he’s sprinkled across it. It’s in his hair, too, and a little on his face. He’s wearing make-up, though not nearly as much as he wears on stage. It’s a little more subdued, a little more natural, though still striking. Yoongi rather thinks Hoseok was born to wear lipstick.
“Hey,” he manages to get out once he’s taken Hoseok in.
Still beaming, Hoseok sways a little before tripping on his own feet and crashing into Yoongi. Yoongi is a little slow to respond, caught off guard by the suddenness of having Hoseok so close to him, but eventually manages to steady the pair of them with an arm around the drunk boy’s waist.
“You alright?”
Hoseok nods, giggling at nothing in particular. “You aren’t gonna take advantage of me, are you, hyung?”
“Of course not. Come on, let’s find Jiminie so he can take you home.”
Hoseok whines at that, winding his arms tightly around Yoongi’s neck and clinging to him. With this new leverage, he pulls himself up so he can support himself properly on his feet, leans in close. “Won’t you even kiss me, hyung?” he slurs, right into Yoongi’s ear. He smells sweet. Like he’s been drinking cocktails. “Come on, now that you’re here?”
Under different circumstances, the words might make Yoongi shiver. Now, though, he’s intent on getting Hoseok home before he can embarrass himself more. Not that his actions are shameful, at least not to Yoongi, but something tells him he won’t want to be reminded of this tomorrow, and so with great difficulty, Yoongi hauls him out of the bathroom and back into the bar, where Seokjin is waiting for them.
“Hobi! Are you okay?” Seokjin asks, frowning a little when he sees Yoongi’s arms around him.
“I didn’t do anything,” Yoongi says quickly, “I’m trying to help him, he’s-“
“Pissed, yeah,” Seokjin says, taking place at Hoseok’s other side and wrapping one of Hoseok’s arms around his shoulders. “He doesn’t take drink well, unfortunately.”
“That’s a lie,” Hoseok says, pouting. He turns his head to Yoongi. “Don’t you listen to him, hyung.”
Seokjin snorts. “You don’t want me to tell him all about the time you stripped in-“
“La, la, la,” Hoseok sings loudly, drowning out Seokjin’s story. Yoongi makes a mental note to ask him about it later.
Together, Seokjin and Yoongi haul Hoseok to wear Jimin is sat happily in a blushing Namjoon’s lap. He waves when they approach, jumping up to help a staggering Hoseok sit down beside Namjoon, enticing him with a large glass of water.
“Jimin, have you seen Taehyungie?” Seokjin asks, scanning the room.
“And Jungkook,” Yoongi adds, directing the question at Namjoon, though the man is currently transfixed, watching Jimin carefully take care of Hoseok, who appears to be falling asleep now he’s sat down.
“They’re on the dancefloor,” Jimin answers, grinning as Hoseok babbles something incoherent.
Yoongi is reluctant to leave Hoseok in this state, but follows Seokjin when he taps him on the arm and ushers him to help him find the boys. Yoongi sticks close to Seokjin’s back as they slip through the crowd, still hating the atmosphere but thankful for that fact that not everyone seems to be quite as drunk as Hoseok.
“We ought to get them and go home, don’t you think?” Seokjin asks when Yoongi finally manages to squeeze in to stand beside him.
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, scanning the dance floor where the crowd is more scarce. “They should be-“
He stops when he sees them; both Taehyung and Jungkook hanging off each other, dancing wildly and laughing. From the way he’s swaying, to the near empty drink he’s just about managing to hold on to as he repositions his arm around Taehyung’s waist, Yoongi can deduce his best friend is drunk. He watches nervously as Jungkook leans in, bumping his forehead against Taehyung’s and smiling widely, his lips shiny with balm.
Yoongi glances at Seokjin, ready to hold the other man back from yanking Jungkook from his boyfriend. To his surprise, though, Seokjin looks quite calm, is actually looking at the scene with something close to amusement.
“Urm, should we-“ Yoongi begins, but is cut short when Seokjin strides forwards.
Yoongi notices a little alarm in Jungkook’s face as Seokjin approaches them, but Taehyung, on the other hand, remains quite calm, even smiling as he sees his boyfriend. Yoongi watches, transfixed, as Taehyung parts from Jungkook, still holding his hand, and sets his free arm around Seokjin’s neck. The two exchange a few words before Taehyung nods, accepts the kiss that Seokjin offers him and pulls Jungkook back to his side. Jungkook looks at Seokjin guiltily, though still a little hazy in his state of drunkenness. Seokjin, however, merely guides the pair of them back towards Yoongi.
“Hyung?” Jungkook slurs when he realises Yoongi is in front of him. Though Seokjin has his arm around him, he manages to throw himself forward, barely giving Yoongi the chance to hold out his arms to catch him. “You came!”
“You’re drunk!”
Jungkook gives him a cheesy smile.
“We’re going home now, okay? Too drunk.”
“Is everyone coming?”
Yoongi looks over the Jungkook’s shoulder, to where Taehyung is lolling against Seokjin’s chest, eyes closed. “You wanna come back to our place?”
“Hyung, I don’t feel so good,” Taehyung whines into Seokjin’s chest. Seokjin looks at Yoongi firmly.
“It’s really close.”
They’re ushering the boys out the second Seokjin nods.
*✧ ✰ 。*
Not twenty minutes later, everyone is piling into Yoongi’s flat. Hoseok is mostly being held up by Namjoon, though he’s refusing to let go of Jimin’s arm as he goes. Seokjin has been wrestling Jungkook and Taehyung to walk in a straight line since they left the bar, and Yoongi is just mostly glad he’s home.
There’s a certain strangeness in the air that comes only after a night out like this; when everyone is buzzing around each other, looking for food or somewhere to plug their phone in. Yoongi half-expects everyone to collapse wherever they can find a surface and fall asleep; he knows that’s what he has planned for the rest of his night. He checks his watch, feels a little embarrassed that he feels so wiped out, but the toll that taking care of drunk people takes on you is one he’s never underestimated.
“I wanna dance more,” Jimin whines, as Hoseok finally lets go of him in favour of dumping himself on the sofa.
“Me too!” Taehyung says, bouncing in Seokjin’s hold.
“Probably not a good idea,” Namjoon says, “our neighbours are assholes.”
“We could tread lightly?”
“Yeah, like this!”
As Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook begin their ridiculous three-way rendition of what might be considered a waltz, Yoongi makes his way over to Hoseok on the sofa, squatting beside him and pushing the hair from his eyes. His hair is still curly from the show, but is a little damp now, the curls less tight. It’s falling in waves on top of his head, is giving him a look of adorable bedhead.
“You alright, Hoseok?”
Hoseok opens his eyes, smiling softly when he sees Yoongi’s face looking down at him. Yoongi’s heart does a little jump in his chest.
“Hyung,” he says, softly, reaching out to pull Yoongi down on top of him. Yoongi manages to catch himself on the back of the sofa before Hoseok can pull him down, though it takes all his strength and willpower not to just let Hoseok cuddle him close like he apparently wants to.
“You should sleep, Seok. You can have my bed tonight; I’ll take the sofa.”
Hoseok pouts, but lets Yoongi pull him up and guide him to the hallway. “Why take the sofa?” He mumbles, sounding more tired than drunk, now.
“Yoongi-yah!” Seokjin calls, sounding urgent.
Yoongi whips around, sees Seokjin looking at him sceptically, then realises how suggestive it looks that he’s taking a very drunk Hoseok back to his room.
“Relax, hyung,” Hoseok says, obviously trying not to completely butcher his words, “he’s gonna sleep on the sofa. For some reason.”
There’s a warning look exchanged between Yoongi and Seokjin, before the elder nods slightly and turns back to his boyfriend. Yoongi breathes out, continues to lead Hoseok to his room.
It’s not difficult to get Hoseok to bed; the younger practically collapses onto it the moment they’re through the door. He sighs happily as he snuggles into Yoongi’s sheets, not even bothering to take off his jacket. Yoongi is grateful he’d kicked his shoes off at the front door, at least.
“Hey, Hoseok, you should take your shorts off, okay? Maybe your tights too.”
Hoseok raises his head without getting up, his eyes narrow. “Are you trying to undress me, hyung?”
“No,” Yoongi says quickly. “I just want you to be comfortable.”
Hoseok makes a like humph sound, sits up to take off his shirt, throwing it to the side of the bed. The glitter that covers his bare chest and face glistens in the light from Yoongi’s lamp, adds to the sense of elegant grace he’s somehow keeping up even drunk. Yoongi watches him with fondness as he flops down again and lifts his legs to pull his shorts and tights off. The mess of clothes get caught half-way up, since Hoseok seems reluctant to actually get up to complete the task properly.
It’s not that Yoongi is actively looking in that direction, but he can’t help what he sees as Hoseok lifts his hips, gives him the full shot of the red, lacy material before he quickly turns away, coughing nervously and trying to focus somewhere else. He meanders over to his dresser, locates a pack of cleansing-wipes, takes a couple. He can’t quite believe he’s just seen Jung Hoseok in his bed. Wearing panties.
He’s seen him wear them before, of course, seen him on stage parading them in front of any one who comes to see the show. But there’s something about knowing, about seeing, that Hoseok doesn’t just wear them on stage, that it’s something he might like to wear just for him. There’s something in that that makes Yoongi’s head spin. Maybe it shouldn’t, with Hoseok in this state. Yoongi can’t do anything about this, doesn’t even want to do anything about it right now.
Doesn’t stop him thinking about the image, though.
“You’re nice, Yoongi,” Hoseok says after a moment, so dreamily that Yoongi doesn’t have him in it to scold him for the lack of honorifics.
“You’re nice too,” he replies instead. He hears the rustle of sheets, figures it’s safe to turn back. He finds Hoseok is snuggled beneath his duvet, looking at him with a soft, lazy smile; his bed is going to be covered in glitter. He hands Hoseok the wipe.
“Not as nice as you,” Hoseok sings as he cleans himself. “Hey, that was good. I like singing, should I sing my part for you, hyung?”
“Maybe another time,” Yoongi says, trying not to laugh. Hoseok keeps watching him in silence, like he’s considering something. “What’s wrong?”
Hoseok lets another moment pass in silence, dumps the wipe beside him, then speaks again. “Lay with me, hyung.”
“I don’t-”
“Hyung,” Hoseok whines, holding out his hands.
Yoongi sighs, going to Hoseok and perching himself on the edge of the bed by his side. He won’t stay in here tonight; he’ll take a blanket and a pillow with him and sleep on the sofa, or the floor if everyone decides to stay over tonight. He picks up on the sounds of everyone out in the living room, still shuffling around. He’ll have to help get Jungkook to bed too, no doubt, but for now, he sets his focus on Hoseok.
He accepts the hands Hoseok offers him, holding them both in his and smiling at the drooping eyes of the boy before him. He can’t quite believe this is the same boy who looks so fierce and powerful in all his make-up and stockings two nights a week; looks softer than anything now, with his eyes unfocused and his cheeks puffy and rosy from the alcohol. Yoongi looks at his hands, realising suddenly he’s never really given them much notice before. They’re deceptively slender and thin, like the rest of Hoseok, something more delicate than Yoongi had expected. There’s a lot of things Hoseok has surprised him with.
One thing Yoongi has noticed since meeting Hoseok is the stark difference between him and the character he plays. Magenta is bold and seductive, wicked and bewitching, Hoseok, still attractive and certainly alluring, is more gentle in his seduction. There’s an innocence captured in his eyes that he somehow manages to erase whilst he’s on stage. That, more than anything, transfixes Yoongi now.
“You do like the show, right?” Hoseok murmurs after a while.
Yoongi snaps his head up, sure he’d been asleep.
“Of course I do.”
“Will you come again soon?”
“I’ll be there for the next show.”
Hoseok hums, closing his eyes. Yoongi runs his thumb along Hoseok’s hands, allowing himself to drink in the sight for a few moments more, before starting to get up to leave.
“Good-night, Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters.
“Would you kiss me?” Hoseok asks, suddenly. Yoongi drops beside him again, something tight in his chest.
“No, Hoseok, not now.”
“Please. I won’t tell.”
Yoongi stares at Hoseok’s face, likes the way he looks when he’s bathed in the orange glow of the streetlight outside. It hits the remaining glitter on his face just right, makes him look other-worldly and… pretty. Yeah, pretty is the word, Yoongi decides then.
“You’re drunk, Hoseok.”
“Hyung.”
Yoongi sighs, leaning a little closer to Hoseok’s body. He hovers for a moment, waiting for Hoseok to watch him, then presses two fingers against his own lips before placing them delicately onto Hoseok’s mouth. He feels Hoseok pucker his lips ever so slightly, savouring the kiss, not for a moment dropping his gaze away from Yoongi’s eyes.
After a still, quiet moment, broken only by the hitch in Yoongi’s breath and the sounds outside of the room, Yoongi goes to move away. He’s stopped, though, when Hoseok reaches to hold his hand in place, holding his hand by the wrist and pressing it more firmly against him. Yoongi goes to scold him, to remind him nothing can happen while he’s in this state, but Hoseok remains still and peaceful, apparently lulled by Yoongi’s skin on his own, so he leaves it. He waits for a while until Hoseok eases his hold on his wrist as he falls asleep, and then waits a little more to confirm Hoseok is completely settled, then quietly slips away.
He’s met with Seokjin in the hallway just as the older is stepping out of the bathroom, wearing only a thin, white t-shirt and carrying his once crisp dress shirt balled up in his hand, dripping wet.
“Kookie puked on me,” he explains when Yoongi shoots him a look in question. “Didn’t want it to ruin the shirt, although I’m afraid it might have.”
Yoongi grimaces. “Where are they?”
“Namjoon helped me dump them in Jungkook’s room, they’re passed out together on his bed. Come see.”
Yoongi follows Seokjin to Jungkook’s room, the room nearest to the living room. As he passes, he hears Namjoon and Jimin speaking lowly together inside Namjoon’s room, can’t help the smirk that rises on his lips.
Inside his bedroom, Yoongi finds Jungkook is indeed curled around Taehyung, their heads pressed together and their limbs tangled in knots. Jungkook is cuddly by nature, which Yoongi hopes Seokjin knows as he casts a nervous eye over at the older man, who is also looking at them with a look Yoongi can’t read.
“I’m going to sleep on the sofa tonight,” Yoongi says, quickly, “I’ll take Kookie with me.”
“No, don’t,” Seokjin answers, his voice low as he leans down to brush the hair out of Taehyung’s face, “leave him here. I don’t think you’d be able to prise them apart, anyway.”
Yoongi regards him for a moment, takes in the soft way that he’s regarding the scene. Not just Taehyung, but Jungkook too. He thinks back then to his reaction at the club, the words exchanged between him and his boyfriend before Taehyung had pulled Jungkook back again, wonders if maybe there’s more to the situation than he knows.
“You don’t seem mad,” he says, as though it’s a casual observation.
“Hm?” Seokjin answers, softly stroking Taehyung’s cheek with the back of his hand.
“About them. Kookie was all over Taehyung at the club. You didn’t seem mad about it?”
Seokjin chuckles, finally looking at Yoongi again and standing up straight. “Should I be mad?”
“I mean, I’d rather you weren’t annoyed at Kook. But if he crossed the line, I’d sorta expect…”
“Taehyungie and I know about Jungkook’s crush, Yoongi,” Seokjin says, seriously.
“He told you?”
“He didn’t need to. I noticed his interest in Tae, Tae noticed his interest in me, and after a bit of bickering about which one of us it was, we concluded that he liked us both. Am I wrong?”
“Urm-“
“You don’t need to tell me. I shouldn’t put you in that position.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi says, still confused.
“Taehyungie and I talked about it before. He asked me while we were at the club if it was okay that he danced and flirted with Kook. I told him I was okay with it, but that I didn’t want him to kiss him. Not yet. We wanted to talk to Kookie about it, after the show is over. Neither of us have done anything like this before, we’re a little unsure how to handle it.”
“You like him too, then?”
Seokjin’s sheepish smile at the question tells him everything, so he nods to show Seokjin doesn’t have to answer, which Seokjin seems to appreciate.
They stand awkwardly for a moment, as Yoongi processes what Seokjin has just told him. He knows Jungkook will be ecstatic at the news that both Seokjin and Taehyung are interested in him, but also knows it may a little overwhelming for him to hear. He wants to warn Seokjin to be careful with him, to explain how sensitive he is under all the goofiness, but holds back. He doesn’t want to overstep, or put his foot in it.
“So, I can borrow a shirt?”
“Sure. I’m sure Kook won’t mind,” Yoongi says as he riffles through one of Jungkook’s drawers, pulling out a white t-shirt. When he turns around, Seokjin is standing bolding without his shirt, looking down at the two boys fondly once more.
Yoongi takes the opportunity to look at Seokjin like this in the more natural, albeit dimmer, light and less singing and dancing, and properly takes in the sight of him. He’d known, of course, about the broadness of his shoulders, the strong yet soft quality of the muscles in his arms; he’s stripped almost bare almost every single show. Seokjin, Jungkook had remarked once before after a particularly vigorous dress rehearsal, was one of those people who were well-built yet inexplicably soft and doughy at the same time. Indeed, Yoongi reflects, there does seem to be something almost round about him, something that makes him look unthreatening and gentle despite the obvious strength he holds.
Then, of course, is the way he carries himself. With a body like that, Yoongi has always supposed, it’s just easier to walk around like nothing in the world can terrify you. He’s learnt with Jungkook, of course, that a strong body does not always equate to total confidence, but Seokjin’s strong body comes with straight posture, a handsome face, an ease of presence. It’s the sort of combination that Yoongi has ruled vital for the stage in his own mind. At least, certainly for a Rocky Horror stage.
“I could never do what you all do,” he blurts out.
Seokjin throws a blanket over both the boys, then turns to him, frowning. “What’d you mean?”
“You guys, in the show. You’re all so… confident and out-going, so sure of yourselves. To walk up on that stage in golden underwear, god-“
Seokjin stops him talking with a hand. “Yoongi, look. I know it appears like I’m this supremely confident guy who thinks he’s the shit, and honestly, I am the shit. But I’m insecure too, you know?”
“You are?”
Seokjin huffs a breath, rubs his face in his hands. Yoongi suspects he’s a little tipsy, because such a confession is not something he’d expected from him. Seokjin, he’s found, is something of a closed book. Though always polite, he can be guarded, and sometimes a little blunt, which Yoongi actually appreciates. He really doesn’t expect for Seokjin to keep going, but when he does, he doesn’t stop him.
“You say I’m outgoing, but honestly, apart from the theatre company guys, and my boyfriend, I don’t really have an awful lot of friends. I don’t go out much besides Uni and the club, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung, I probably wouldn’t even have the latter.”
Yoongi stares at him, trying to look at Seokjin in this new way.
“As for confidence, it’s taken me a long time to somewhat like my body. I work out a lot, and I still have issues with it. With everything. Before university, I was super down on myself, you know? But then one day, after I got here, I figured if I kept being down on myself, I was never gonna get more confident. So, I joined the drama club, and I started telling myself, plus anyone else who would listen, how handsome I am.”
“And that helped?”
Seokjin shrugs. “I guess so? I see a lot more beauty in myself now. There are days I don’t even want to leave the house, but most days, I feel pretty good about myself.”
“You don’t think that’s-“
“Big-headed?”
Yoongi averts his gaze, hadn’t meant to offend.
“It’s okay,” Seokjin laughs, “you can speak openly. Maybe it is a little, but I think my self-confidence is more important than people thinking I’m arrogant. I’m proud of my face, my body, the way I’ve nurtured my view about myself. I think it’s okay to big-headed sometimes.”
“I guess to me, it’s easier to be arrogant about my achievements, my ambition. That’s the stuff I’m proud of.”
Seokjin nods, like he understands. “You should be arrogant about those things. Jungkookie talks about you a lot, you’re super talented from what he tells us. But don’t sell your appearance short, either. Maybe all that other stuff is more important than how you look, but having confidence in both never hurt anyone.”
“You’re right, I guess. I’ve just never seen myself as someone people wanted. Someone…”
“Attractive?”
Yoongi shrugs.
“Well,” Seokjin begins, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his jeans before crawling into the bed beside Taehyung, “maybe stop thinking about confidence in relation to how other’s see you, and start trying to be confident for you.” He stifles a yawn behind his hands, but continues to look at Yoongi as though he’d be happy to talk for hours.
“Sorry,” Yoongi says quickly, realising now how long they’d been talking. He makes his way to the door, careful of the mess on the floor. “I’ll let you sleep now. Thanks for talking to me.”
“Pleasure. I just told you all that because I want you to do something with the lesson, okay? Oh, and Yoongi?”
Yoongi stops short of stepping into the hallway, eyebrow raised.
“There’s definitely someone who wants you. Like that, I mean. There’s definitely someone.”
Neither of them say it, but Yoongi is almost certain Seokjin is talking about the same someone he’s thinking of. The sentiment makes him a little bashful, a little pleased, all at the same time. With a shy smile, he nods to Seokjin again before he leaves.
Yoongi wakes to the sound of the front door closing. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, tries to piece together the night before. He hadn’t gotten drunk, but there had been a tipsy sort of haze he’d gone to bed with that had nothing to do with alcohol. He bites his lip, remembering.
It’s not until he hears Jungkook sigh, followed by the feeling of a body collapsing on top of him, that he remembers he’d slept on the sofa last night. He groans, tries to adjust himself beneath Jungkook’s body, and finds that his back will definitely be punishing him for the sleeping arrangement. He tries to pull himself up, but Jungkook, now snuggling into his neck, weighs him down.
“Kook-ah, get off.”
“No,” Jungkook groans, the sound muffled by Yoongi’s shirt.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Hungover. Embarrassed.”
“Why embarrassed?”
Jungkook pulls himself up a little at that, looking down at Yoongi and frowning. “You know what happened last night, don’t you, hyung?”
“You got drunk?”
“I got drunk and made a fool of myself in front of Tae-Tae hyung and Seokjinnie hyung. I was all over them.”
“Ah. In your defence, it was just Taehyung.”
“That’s even worse!” Jungkook exclaims, throwing himself into Yoongi again, moulding their bodies together. “I can’t believe Jin-hyung didn’t beat me up just now.”
“Just now?”
“They just left. We woke up in my bed together.”
“Yeah, Seokjin put the pair of you to bed last night. Couldn’t separate you.”
“Oh god,” Jungkook moans again. “I feel terrible. I’m the worst person in the world, flirting with Tae right in front of Seokjin. What am I gonna do, hyung? They’re never gonna talk to me again.”
The sadness in Jungkook’s voice makes Yoongi want to tell him exactly what Seokjin had said to him last night. It’s Yoongi’s opinion that stuff like this should never just be left sitting; it’s always better that people know all the facts before misunderstandings or doubt make the whole thing messy. But, he resolves, that’s just his view, and this isn’t his relationship to snoop in. From the sounds of it, Seokjin is intending on talking to Jungkook at some point, and as long as he and Taehyung don’t drag it out too much, Yoongi intends to stay out of it.
Still, Jungkook’s groans of upset demand him to say something, at least.
“Look, Kookie, it’s gonna be okay, alright?” he says, reaching his hand up to scrub Jungkook’s scalp with his fingers. “You were drunk, right? And it’s not like you kissed him or anything. Did you?”
“Of course not. He was drunk too, but he was holding back when we got close to kissing, so I held back too.”
“Okay, then good. Whatever you did, it was consensual. And when I spoke to Jin-hyung last night, he didn’t seem mad.”
“Maybe not mad,” Jungkook says through a pout, “maybe he felt too sorry for me to be mad."
“You don’t know that. Don’t speculate. They didn’t leave it weird, right?”
Jungkook gives it some thought, then shakes his head. “They rushed off because Jinnie-hyung is TA-ing for a class this morning. Tae-Tae kissed my cheek, but he does that a lot…”
“Then isn’t it better he did it? Means everything is normal and okay?”
“I guess,” Jungkook murmurs, stubborn as ever. “I just-“
He’s interrupted by his phone buzzing in his hand. He shifts himself on top of Yoongi so he can look at the screen, squinting a little to read. Yoongi watches as his eyes widen.
“Oh fuck.”
“What? What is it?”
“Taehyung.”
Yoongi sits up as best he can, forcing Jungkook to fall back to the other side of the sofa as he focuses on the screen.
“What did he say?”
“He said sorry for rushing off,” he says, reading from the screen. “He and Seokjin wanna- they wanna meet me for lunch when Seokjin gets out of his lecture.” He looks up, his face evident of his panic. “Hyung, fuck.”
“That sounds positive, Kookie,” Yoongi says truthfully.
“What if they wanna meet with me to ask me to stop making them uncomfortable? What if they know about how I feel?”
Jungkook throws his head back against the arm of the sofa dramatically, closing his eyes tightly. Yoongi bites his lip.
“I’m screwed, hyung. Totally screwed.”
“Kook-ah, listen, I need to t-“
“Sorry to interrupt.”
Jungkook springs up again, turning with Yoongi to see Hoseok standing in the doorway with his soft, fluffy hair sticking up adorably. He looks sheepish, with his hands clasped behind him and his head bowed, like he’s ready to be scolded. There’s still a little bit of make-up on his face; smudges of glitter and kohl here and there.
“I would have worn my shirt, but I, um, couldn’t find it.”
Yoongi tries very hard not to look down, still feels iffy about having seen so much of Hoseok last night. He’s glad to see Hoseok had found his shorts and thrown them on, at least. Jungkook giggles beside him.
“Yoongi-hyung doesn’t mind-“
Yoongi kicks him sharply in the stomach. “Go get ready for your date.”
“Not a date,” Jungkook hisses, but does as he’s told and stalks towards his room. He smiles at Hoseok as he passes him, which Hoseok returns a little shyly.
“Hi,” Hoseok says once Jungkook is gone.
“Hey.”
There’s a pregnant pause before Hoseok speaks again.
“I feel a little embarrassed.”
Yoongi hums. “A lot of that going around this morning.” There’s another pause. “How about you shower first? I’ll go get you something to wear, make breakfast, then we can talk.”
Yoongi finds a spare tooth-brush under the sink for Hoseok to use, pulls out one of the softer towels he owns from the linen closest the flat shares. As Hoseok showers, Yoongi lays out a soft, black jumper of his own on the bed, then rummages in Jungkook’s wardrobe for sweats he thinks Hoseok will fit into. He then moves to fix up some pancakes from the instant pancake mix Jungkook keeps in the fridge, sets coffee on to brew. There’s just about enough for them to have one pancake each, though Yoongi is careful to make Hoseok’s slightly bigger. He wishes he had more to offer, something to help Hoseok offset any trace of hangover, but he makes do with what he’s got, sets out the food on the coffee room table and checks his phone as he waits for Hoseok to return.
“You didn’t have to go all out,” Yoongi hears after a while. He turns, sees Hoseok looking fresh-faced and slightly more alive, almost cosy in the sweater and turned-up trousers. He’s looking at the pancakes like he kind of wants to throw up, which Yoongi chooses not to take personally.
“Sorry it’s not hang-over soup. You wanna come sit down?”
Hoseok nods, coming to sit beside Yoongi on the sofa. Yoongi gathers his blanket and offers it to Hoseok, who looks at him gratefully as he throws it over his legs. Once he’s settled the blanket, they grow quiet again, and Yoongi wonders exactly how awkward this conversation is going to be. He doesn’t exactly need an explanation from Hoseok, hadn’t really been that bothered by his drunkenness, or his passing out in his bed. But there’s stuff he’d like to talk about. If Hoseok is willing to register they happened.
“I wanna say sorry-“
“You really don’t need to, Hoseok-
“No, I do, it was unacceptable, I-“
“People get drunk sometimes, it’s o-“
“But I threw myself at you and-“
“Hoseok, listen,” Yoongi says, growing tired of them interrupting each other quickly. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, or upset, or angry, or anything else you might think you did. It’s fine, really.”
Hoseok looks at his hands, suddenly quiet.
“Was there something else?”
“I just- I needed to ask something.”
“What?”
“Did we- Only, I can’t remember, and I just…” Hoseok looks at him, cheeks heating up.
“What is it?”
“Did we kiss, hyung?”
“Oh.” Yoongi slumps against the back of the sofa. “Urm, not exactly, no.”
“Not exactly?”
“You wanted to kiss me, or, I don’t know. You wanted a kiss. You asked me, but you were so drunk, I didn’t want to take advantage. So, I didn’t.”
“Oh.” Hoseok pauses. “Ok. That’s a relief.”
Yoongi’s heart drops in his chest, something cold filling the cavity.
“Yeah, I guess,” he says, stiffly, leaning forward to pull his pancake apart with his fork. Suddenly, he has no real intention of eating it. He feels embarrassed, though there’s probably little chance Hoseok knows how he feels. That bit of dignity he’s saved, at least.
“I don’t mean-“ Hoseok says quickly. “Hyung, I meant it like… Hyung, I like you.”
Yoongi looks at him, eyebrow raised.
“You what?”
“I like you,” he says, voice quieter than Yoongi has ever heard it.
“You do?” Yoongi wonders if he’s ever going to stop saying stupid stuff in Hoseok’s presence. He lets himself off for it, this one time.
“I didn’t make it obvious last night?”
“You were very drunk last night.”
“That’s true. But I’ve been flirting with you for over a month now, too. You didn’t figure?”
“I thought you were just…” Yoongi’s voice trails off. In truth, he hasn’t been sure what he’s thought of Hoseok’s behaviour. There have been points he’s thought one way, points he’s thought another. Mostly, he hadn’t let himself hope. That’s been his main goal. No hoping. “I don’t know.”
The air goes quiet for another moment. Hoseok pulls his feet up onto the sofa, hugging his legs close to his chest. Yoongi waits for him to say something else, watches as he fidgets with his sleeve. It’s not like he wants Hoseok to go, just feels odd in the space now. He keeps playing over last night, the feeling of holding Hoseok in his arms in the club, the sight of him curled up in his bed. His voice keeps replaying in his head; would you kiss me? If one person doesn’t remember, does it even count as happening, he wonders.
“I should get going,” Hoseok says after a while. He stands up to leave, but Yoongi is reaching for him before he can.
“Stay.”
“Stay?”
“I mean, if you want to. Stay. Hang out today. You look exhausted.”
Hoseok’s smile is a little shy. It’s strange seeing him like this, so hesitant and quiet. Yoongi wonders if this is just what Hoseok looks like when he’s hungover, or whether there’s something else.
“I don’t wanna impose.”
“Not imposing. We can watch movies, order in for lunch. Just, stick around, okay?”
“Hyung, I-” Hoseok sighs. “If you don’t feel the same about me, you don’t need to ask me to stick around just for the sake of saving my feelings. I’m a big boy, alright?” He says it with a smile, which might just be what makes Yoongi’s heart ache most of all.
“Hoseok-” Yoongi starts, tugging on his arm until he’s sitting down again, closer this time. Close enough for Yoongi to cup his face in his palms. His cheeks feel warm against Yoongi’s hands. “I like you too, okay? I guess I just… I didn’t wanna take advantage of you. And I wasn’t sure if maybe it was just because I was there that you-”
“I wanted you there, hyung,” Hoseok admits quietly, “I wanted you to be there with me.”
Yoongi feels his face break into a smile, tries to subdue it enough to be able to talk. “Well, I’m glad I was there, then.”
They pause again, Hoseok looking at Yoongi imploringly, their faces having drifted closer and closer as they’ve been talking. Yoongi leans in, wants so desperately to capture Hoseok’s lips in a kiss. They look a little chapped from close up, Yoongi wants to swipe his tongue across them, maybe tug on one with his teeth, maybe-
“Hyung, did you make pancakes?”
Yoongi groans. Pulling away from Hoseok quickly, Yoongi bites his own lip as Jungkook comes wandering into the room, stretching his arm across his chest.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, trying not to growl. “I’ll get you more mixture this weekend.”
“‘Sall good. I’m gonna go for a run.”
“Kook, aren’t you hungover?”
“A little,” Jungkook shrugs, beginning to lightly jog on the spot, “but I can’t just sit around and wait for lunch. I’ll go crazy. Need to go. See you, hyungs.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Yoongi falls back against the sofa. Hoseok quickly follows, pressing into his side and propping his chin up on Yoongi’s shoulder. It feels natural, then, to pull his arm from where Hoseok’s is trapping it against his body and throwing it around Hoseok’s shoulders. After a split seconds thought, Yoongi pulls him in closer, before running his fingers through his hair. He likes the sound Hoseok makes as he does it; a sweet little sigh in the back of his throat.
“You wanna watch a movie?”
And that’s how they end up watching movies all day, snuggled close as they make their way through Netflix’s library. For the first hour or so of one of the x-men films, Hoseok stays latched to Yoongi’s side. Before long, though, Yoongi makes the informed decision to press himself into the corner of the sofa, pulling Hoseok to very naturally slot himself in between his open legs. It’s in this position they stay in for most of the morning, leaking into the afternoon, with Yoongi trailing his hand up and down Hoseok’s side and trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss him.
It’s just about getting to two in the afternoon when Yoongi happens to mention that he’s never watched the film version of Rocky Horror, much to Hoseok’s dismay.
“You have to watch it, hyung,” Hoseok exclaims, jumping up to where Yoongi is pointing out Jungkook’s film collection. “You just have to. It’s a travesty you haven’t!”
Sitting up, Yoongi whines at the loss of Hoseok against him. “Aren’t movie remakes supposed to be like… Really super bad?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Not always. Les Mis was pretty good. I liked Mamma Mia, too.”
Yoongi looks at him blankly.
“You haven’t seen Mamma Mia?”
“Guilty.”
“Hyung!” Hoseok says, putting Rocky Horror into the DVD player and rushing back to the sofa to settle in Yoongi’s arms again. “Awful. We’ll watch that one next. Anyway, this adaptation worked because the writer of the show directed it. And he played Riff Raff. Also, Tim Curry.” Hoseok does an imitation of a chef kissing his hands, signing off on a good dish.
“You like Tim Curry?”
“I appreciate him as a performer, as an actor. He made the role his own, injected the kind of reckless sensuality that’s just like, the essence of Rocky Horror. Taking shy little virgins and turning them to sinners, taking sinners and turning them into-“
“Horny alien monsters?” Yoongi suggests, pinching Hoseok’s side.
Hoseok giggles. “I can’t disagree with you there.”
“You don’t think it’s too much? All the sex and the- All the other stuff.”
“Oh, it’s definitely too much. I think that’s why I love it. Because it’s so wild, because anything goes. Rocky means I can be anything; can sing, can dance, can flirt, can wear all the tacky, sexy clothes I want.” Hoseok laughs, Yoongi feels it against his chest.
“I just love being able to be completely, unabashedly myself, you know?” Hoseok continues, sounding happy and excited to be talking about it. “I know the story is centred around it being a foreign, strange people, feeling scared and unsafe, but to me, it’s familiar. It’s the safest place to love whoever you love, to embrace sexuality, to dress how you want, to- Sorry, I’m rambling now, we should watch the movie.”
But now Yoongi doesn’t want to watch the movie. He’s got something else on his mind as he reaches for the tv remote, caught between the sofa cushions, and pauses the tv on the shot of red, shiny lips set against a black backdrop, singing the lines to the opening song.
“Hyung?” Hoseok asks, turning in Yoongi’s grasp until he’s looking straight up at Yoongi with his sweet, doe eyes shiny and questioning.
“I think you’re amazing, Hoseok,” Yoongi says, plainly. Simple as it is, he can think of no better word to describe Hoseok. Something that shines so bright, something so kind, so dazzling. Something that amazes. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. But you are.”
“Yoongi,” Hoseok whispers, sounding so touched and surprised it stings a little, in the best way.
The sound of Hoseok’s sweet, melodic voice gives Yoongi all the more incentive to reach his hand up, cupping one of Hoseok’s cheeks, then grasping the other with his other hand for good measure.
“Before, I meant…” Hoseok begins nervously, eyes flittering between Yoongi’s eyes and his mouth. “I meant it was a relief because… because if I kissed you, if we’d kissed, I mean, and I didn’t remember it… I’d be really upset.”
There’s a little line in the centre of Hoseok’s face, like thinking about the words and getting them out is a strain for him. Yoongi smooths it out with his thumb.
“I get it, Hoseok, it’s fine.”
“No, hyung, I mean… I mean that if we kissed, I’d want to remember it.”
Yoongi is quiet, senses Hoseok isn’t done.
“When I said I wanted you to kiss me, I meant it. And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I asked, I don’t wanna ask again, not if you don’t want to kiss me right now, or ever, but I seriously…“
Hoseok pauses, and Yoongi sees the moment he registers the way he’s stuck staring at him as he babbles. He’s trying to keep from kissing him right now, though he’s sure it must be showing in his face how much he wants to. God, does he want to.
“You can,” Yoongi croaks, when the silent tension gets too much, “if you want to. Ask again.”
“Ask?”
Yoongi nods.
“Would- Would you kiss me, hyung?”
Another quiet, short nod. The angle is awkward as he leans down, strains his neck a little trying to reach Hoseok’s lips. He feels Hoseok pushing up on his arms, hands planted firmly either side of Yoongi’s waist, trying to meet him as best he can as his eyes close expectantly. Yoongi takes a little longer to close his eyes, wants to watch Hoseok for a moment, the softest of his face he’s usually not privy to because of all the make-up and the lights and the rushing around. Now, the moment is still and clean and open and if Yoongi wants to look at Hoseok for a while, he can.
Before long, Hoseok is letting out a shaky, nervous exhale, waiting for the kiss he’s asked for, and Yoongi realises he’ll have more opportunities to look at Hoseok this way, that he doesn’t have to drink the moment in its entirety right now. Hoseok won’t float away if he closes his eyes, he won’t wake up from a dream the moment they kiss. It’s with those thoughts that Yoongi, his hands still cradling the baby-soft skin of Hoseok’s cheeks, runs his nose against the slope of Hoseok’s, lets his eyelids flutter closed, and smiles against his lips before he presses against them with his own.
It’s an innocent kiss, starts as a soft peck as Yoongi tests the pressure, tries to commit the feeling of Hoseok’s lips to memory. Even as Yoongi’s tongue swipes its way into Hoseok’s mouth, the kiss stays mostly soft, gentle, like they’re feeling each other out, treading carefully. Where Yoongi had expected heat with the kiss, the kind of reckless sensuality that Hoseok had mentioned before, he doesn’t find himself disappointed with the sweet tenderness of this one.
Before long, Hoseok is attempting to rearrange himself, pushing himself up and closer to Yoongi, Yoongi trying to hold him steady as their tongues, warm and wet, move together without direction or care. Hoseok kisses like he talks. With a kind of sweet, harmless buzz makes everything feel nice. Yeah, Yoongi thinks, nice is the word. Pleasant, maybe. Something good.
When they finally break apart, Yoongi finds that Hoseok is still smiling sweetly, so sweet it makes Yoongi want to dive back in once more. He doesn’t though, wants to play it cool, play it as though his heart isn’t threatening to break out of his chest and land one on Hoseok itself. Instead, he pinches Hoseok’s cheeks in his hands, gives him a peck on the nose.
“Think you’ll remember that one?”
Hoseok doesn’t ask for the next kiss, just leans back in and takes it.
*✧ ✰ 。*
Hoseok leaves somewhere around nine. they’ve mostly talked the whole afternoon, whenever they could bear to pull away from kissing. Yoongi wants him to stay, Hoseok tells him he’d stay forever, if he could.
An hour or so passes once he’s gone, Yoongi passing the time by lying in bed, listening to the Rocky Horror soundtrack and smiling as he presses his fingers to his mouth in a bid to remember the feeling of Hoseok’s. Lips a little chapped, warm. The taste of toothpaste and pancakes. He’d smelt like clean cotton up close, because of the clothes he’d borrowed, but there’s something clean about his natural scent too. Clean and fresh. Yoongi has a candle of a similar scent sat on his bedside. He’ll think of Hoseok when he lights it, now, he’s sure.
He’s just beginning to drift off when Jungkook knocks on his door. He calls him in, doesn’t even bother to get out of bed as Jungkook shuffles inside. He stands by the door for a moment, then snuggles himself beside Yoongi on top of the covers. He’s less close than he was this morning, less full-on. He’s quiet, too. Quiet and subdued in a way that troubles Yoongi.
“You okay?” Yoongi says, poking Jungkook’s cheek. “I haven’t seen you since you got back from lunch.”
“Went to the gym. Had to think.”
“Yeah? What about?”
“Tae-Tae and Jin hyung want to date me.”
Yoongi pauses. It’s not a shock, of course, but Jungkook’s tone difficult to decipher.
“That’s…” He looks at Jungkook, tries to pull out some trace of emotion on either end of the scale between delighted and horrified. When he can’t find one, he gives up on a reaction. “Are you gonna?”
“I don’t know.” Jungkook’s voice is wistful, restless. He doesn’t get like this a lot, though Yoongi has seen it more often than most. “It’s a lot.”
Yoongi ruffles his hair, then smooths it down with his palm. “Yeah,” he agrees.
“Did you and Hobi-hyung kiss?”
Yoongi smiles. He loves the word kiss. “Yeah.”
A pause.
“Good.” Jungkook doesn’t sound surprised. Yoongi wonders then if Seokjin and Taehyung have any idea, though he supposes Hoseok will tell them soon enough. Namjoon and Jimin certainly know already, because they’ve been in all day, doing god-knows-what in Namjoon’s room, and they’d caught Yoongi and Hoseok on the sofa together when they’d ventured out for food. Jimin had Namjoon’s shirt on. Namjoon had hickies lining his neck.
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. He can’t help smiling a little with just how much he agrees.
“You deserve it, hyung. You both do.”
“You deserve this too, Kook. You deserve to get what you want.”
“I dunno, hyung.”
Yoongi wonders what’s going on in his head, but knows better than to try and pull it out of him. Jungkook doesn’t section himself off usually, rarely gets mad enough to resort to the silent treatment. A lot of the time when he’s sad, he’ll prefer to be with either Yoongi or Namjoon, watch them while they’re working or cuddling close to them. Still, even with the closeness, it’s better to wait for Jungkook to volunteer his feelings first, work with what he gives you.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
Jungkook sighs, playing with Yoongi’s t-shirt. “That’s what Jin-hyung said.”
“You really like them, don’t you?”
“So much.” Jungkook whines, shifting around. “I’m just scared.”
Ah, there’s something; a tangible emotion Yoongi has some experience with, something he can work with.
“What are you scared of?”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend before, let alone two at once.” There’s something quiet in the way he says it, something childlike and embarrassed, that reminds Yoongi of when they were younger, when he’d been a little bigger than Jungkook, had always been ready to defend his best-friend. He can’t remember quite when Jungkook had gotten so big, or when it had started working the other way around, too. “How does it even work?”
“I guess it’s something you just figure out along the way, like with any relationship.”
Jungkook looks at him, his eyes twinkling a little. “Do you think it could work, hyung? Me and them?”
“I think,” Yoongi says, pushing Jungkook’s bangs from his eyes, “that if you try hard enough, you can make anything work.”
They don’t say anything else after that, but there’s a warm smile on Jungkook’s face as he falls asleep beside Yoongi on the bed, curled up beside him and clinging comfortably. Yoongi smiles, waits for him to drop off completely before he settles down himself. He spares another ten minutes remembering the soft, curly wisp of hair that had stuck up at the back of Hoseok’s hair, then falls asleep himself to the sound of Jungkook snoring beside him.
Yoongi finds it strange how the weeks float by so casually, as if Hoseok entering his life hasn’t completely turned it on its head.
Okay, so maybe not everything changes. Yoongi is still swamped with schoolwork, still feels exhausted at the mere prospect of finally graduating next year and attempting to make a living with his two degrees. He’s still working towards feeling comfortable with himself, and his caffeine addiction is teetering along the edge of intervention-needed territory.
It’s all the same as before, only now with the added presence of a one Jung Hoseok.
Now, Yoongi wakes up in the morning knowing it’s likely one of them will manage to worm their way into the other’s day somehow. Sometimes it’s meeting for a morning coffee, or a quick lunch later in the day. A couple of times they meet to study in the library, their pinkies touching on the desk as they get on with their work in silence. He goes to a few more of the theatre society meetings, and when he has the nights free to go and see Rocky Horror again, he’ll meet Hoseok either before or after the show, and that’s just how it works.
It’s during one of those not-so-rare-these-days moments, with Hoseok spread on top of him, Yoongi’s flat empty but for the two of them, that Yoongi relishes the fact he can just reach down and grab a handful of Hoseok’s ass now. There’d been talks of taking it slow at first, an idea that maybe this relationship didn’t need sex right at the start.
So far, they’ve mostly been keeping to it. More than anything, Yoongi has just enjoying getting to know Hoseok. It’s been nice to know Hoseok doesn’t want to rush it either; there’s some knowledge shared between the two of them, an idea of building something to last. Of course, that doesn’t mean Yoongi hasn’t thought about it; there’s been no shortage of blue balls or awkward boners handled solo in both of their bathrooms, and right now, with Hoseok moaning shamelessly as Yoongi’s tongue presses insistently into his mouth, it’s hard to think of much else.
“I like it when you do that,” Hoseok murmurs in between kisses, pulling away a little so they both have chance to catch their breaths. He braces himself above Yoongi’s body, his forearms framing Yoongi’s face on either side of the pillow. With a loose hand, he brushes some hair from Yoongi’s forehead, runs the back of his fingers down Yoongi’s cheek.
Breath be damned, Yoongi reaches up to sneak a few more kisses onto Hoseok’s bottom lip. “Do what?”
Hoseok wiggles his bottom half, pushing his ass up to fit more snugly into Yoongi’s hands, his answer clear. Yoongi hums in thought, rubs his hands against the denim of Hoseok’s jeans. He kneads the firm backside as best he can through the material, then squeezes again, a little firmer this time, a little testing.
“That,” Hoseok clarifies with a squeak. “I like where your hands are.”
“Is that right?”
Hoseok nods, his smile something wicked.
“I like where my hands are too,” Yoongi says, grinning as Hoseok dives back in, connecting their lips together once more. Yoongi spares a hand to cup Hoseok’s cheek with, tilting his head as he licks into Hoseok’s slack, pliant mouth. Hoseok lips are always soft, always kind of shiny from the lip-balm he wears. On more than one occasion, Yoongi has thought about kissing Hoseok while he’s wearing that sticky red lipstick and gloss he wears for shows. The thought often leads his mind to other places; places where Hoseok is in his whole outfit, sometimes below Yoongi, sometimes on top of him. Sometimes he’s hiked up against the wall with Yoongi’s thigh in between his and Yoongi snapping his garter against his skin.
Yoongi curses himself for thinking about it now, in such a compromising position. If he starts to get wound up, Hoseok will no doubt feel it; their hips are aligned and there’s little room to hide such things between them. Still, having Hoseok so close like this makes it all the harder to stop himself from driving them further. He’s never thought of himself as particularly weak-willed, at least not in regards to sex, but lately he’s been wondering if maybe it’s just another thing that Hoseok has brought out in him.
“Hyung,” Hoseok gasps suddenly, his hips still moving in little circles, snapping Yoongi back to the present again.
Yoongi stills, takes his hands off of Hoseok as he pants, willing himself to calm down. He’s still capable of that, he’s sure. “Sorry. Should I stop-”
With eyelashes fluttering against the top of his cheeks, rosy from the heat or the position or both, Hoseok reaches behind himself, grasping for Yoongi’s hand and slamming it back onto his ass with a slap. He starts to move with more insistence, a whine caught deep in his throat. “Please don’t.”
Yoongi doesn’t spare another moment thinking about it, simply presses his hand against Hoseok again, encouraging his movements. Hoseok manages to keep up the open mouthed kisses they’re barely exchanging for a while, lips too loose to press together with much force, but soon he gives up in favour of trailing his lips down to Yoongi’s neck, lapping at the skin and rubbing his nose against it like he’s trying to leave a mark but is feeling too lazy to do so.
“Do you think about me, hyung?” Hoseok murmurs after a while, the words sticking to Yoongi’s damp skin like a bee caught in honey, tingling against him with a pleasant chill.
“Hm?”
“Do you think about me, when I’m not here?”
Any sense of pride or shame temporarily tossed out of the window, Yoongi nods, his chin knocking against Hoseok’s head. “Of course I do.”
“What do you think about?”
“I think about…” Yoongi hums, tries to place his favourite part of Hoseok, the thing he thinks about most. “Your smile, the way your cheeks get puffy and your dimples pop out. Your good humour and your laugh. And your mouth. Your lips are so soft. I think about your eyes, your cheeks.” Yoongi stops, realises how soft he’s being. “I think about your cute butt,” he adds, patting Hoseok’s bottom.
Hoseok keens again as Yoongi gives his butt another firm squeeze, gives Yoongi the confidence to continue, own up to what it is he’s been thinking about when he’s alone in his room. Hoseok is still gyrating his hips, and it’s clouding his words as he speaks.
“I think about you… in your costume a lot.”
Hoseok pauses his movements for a painfully still, quiet moment, then pulls back from Yoongi’s neck to peer at his face with interest. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one?”
“All of them.” He pauses, thinking about it. “All of them, but maybe the first one most, the maid one, most of all.”
Hoseok hums, considering. “You like me in a dress?”
“I like it a lot.” Yoongi kind of stumbles on the words, and it makes Hoseok grin.
“Do you ever think about me doing this,” Hoseok grinds again, “in my dress?”
“You mean like-?”
Hoseok repeats his action, something so steady and deliberate in the way their crotches are rubbing together now. “Yeah.”
“God. Fuck. Yeah, I think about that.”
“Good,” Hoseok says definitively, before quickly sitting up, leaving Yoongi’s hands to smack down against the bed and watch as Hoseok starts to unbutton his jeans.
“Hoseok-”
“Just wanna give you more access,” Hoseok says, unzipping his fly but leaving his jeans on. He carefully braces himself over Yoongi again, stopping short before he’s lying on top of him again. “This okay?”
“More than,” Yoongi says, reaching up to pull Hoseok back against him with a firm hand on his lower back. Their lips connect once more, less lazy than before, a lot more intent between them both now. Their teeth knock together slightly as they find the rhythm, and Yoongi takes the initiative to run his hands back down Hoseok’s spine and under his jeans. He plays along the waistband of Hoseok’s boxers, not quite breaching them entirely but skirting closer to the area than he ever has before. Once Hoseok begins rocking against him again he gets the hint, grabs Hoseok’s ass through his boxers and holds tight, before tilting his hips up to meet Hoseok’s gyrations.
Suddenly, an image pops into his mind; Hoseok set against low, orange light, lace stretched tight against tan skin. Before he can stop himself, he starts to babble.
“I like you in- in that other costume too. In your- your panties and bra and stuff. I like your garters.”
“Yeah?” this seems to spark Hoseok in a different way, there’s something like excitement in his eyes, something a little soft too, perhaps thankful. “God,” he sighs against Yoongi’s lips, can’t seem to stop kissing the between words, “I’m- I’m getting so hard for you.”
“Me too,” Yoongi stutters back. “Fuck, Hoseok, so hard for you.”
“I can feel it.” Yoongi can feel him smirking.
“Shit.”
“I know we said-” Hoseok gasps, arching his back suddenly when Yoongi runs a finger along his crack through the material of his boxers, pressing a little. “God, that’s good. Hyung, I know we’ve been taking it slow, but, god, I really wanna-”
“Hyung?”
They both still at the sound of Jungkook’s voice ringing through the flat. Yoongi unclenches his hands but keeps them firmly on Hoseok’s backside as he turns his head to the clock on the bedside table. By the clock’s count, it’s just gone five in the afternoon. Someone, they’ve managed to kiss away two whole hours.
“Hyung?” Jungkook repeats, voice sounding increasingly close to Yoongi’s door. “You home yet? I had a shitty day; can we hang out?”
Yoongi sighs, retracting his hands from Hoseok’s jeans and looking up at the ceiling, can’t believe they’re being interrupted again. Hoseok rolls himself off of Yoongi’s body, though stays close to his side, watching. He feels the way Hoseok stares at him, waiting for him to react. Yoongi thinks. It’s not like he wants to blow Jungkook off tonight, especially if he’s had a bad day, but he’d been enjoying himself. He runs a hand over his sweatpants where his arousal had been beginning to form. He’d really been enjoying himself.
“I should go,” Hoseok says, voice a little low, sounding as bummed as Yoongi feels. He begins to pull away, but Yoongi rolls onto his side and stops him with an arm around his waist before he can get far.
“You don’t have to,” Yoongi says quickly, pulling Hoseok back into him. He knocks their foreheads together, not ready to have him go yet. “You could stay, hang out with us.”
Hoseok adjusts himself, bringing a hand up between them to stroke along Yoongi’s cheek. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course I wouldn’t, I’ll ask Kookie if it’s alright. We can watch a movie, get take-out. I’ll speak to Jungkookie privately, if he needs that.” Yoongi pecks his lips. “Okay? I’d like you to stay, Hoseok.”
It takes a moment, but soon Hoseok’s grin overcomes him. “I’d like me to stay, too.”
A triple date was Taehyung’s idea, though nothing was very finely planned. It just so happened that after rehearsal one day, everyone kind of migrated to Yoongi’s place, all complaining about being too hungry to function but too tired to go out or cook.
Yoongi and Hoseok had been tasked with ordering food for everyone. They’d ended up with an assortment of fried stuff, rice, noodles and steamed vegetables, all cramped onto the coffee room table, with everyone squeezed around it. Yoongi has got Hoseok tucked up against him, Namjoon and Jimin on his other side, as they watch Taehyung and Seokjin flirt shamelessly. Through a mouthful of spring roll, Taehyung is watching Seokjin as he grabs the last marinated egg with his chopsticks and opens his mouth to receive it, before he stops suddenly.
“I thought you liked fried rolls?” he asks, looking at Taehyung. “You want the egg?”
“No, hyung, you eat it,” Taehyung says quickly around another bite.
“You were looking at it like you wanted it.”
“No, I’m happy with this. You don’t like fried rolls.”
Seokjin shrugs, brings the egg to his open mouth, then diverts at the last minute, pushes it back towards Taehyung. “You eat it.”
“No,” Taehyung says, giggling as he nudges Seokjin’s arm away, “I was just looking!”
Seokjin raises it to his lips once more, as Taehyung opens his eyes comically wide, bottom lip dropping as if fascinated, gaze set on the egg. The scene continues for a few more rounds before the egg finally gets eaten, but even then Seokjin is leaning in with his mouth open, offering the chewed-up food to Taehyung, who can’t stop giggling as he pushes Seokjin away, his eyes screwed up and boxy smile on full display.
“Can’t we just eat our food?” Yoongi says, keen to just get through his chicken without throwing up. Seokjin blushes slightly, and Taehyung leans over to kiss his cheek.
“Stop being cranky,” Hoseok says, laughing as he grabs a fried roll from his plate and lifts it to Yoongi’s lips. Yoongi accepts it, pretending to be annoyed, but enjoying the attention as Hoseok squeezes his cheeks as he eats. “Better?”
“Shut up,” Yoongi says through his mouthful, but gives him a small smile before he leans his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, content.
He stares around the room casually, eyes landing on Jungkook who is sitting rather quietly next to Taehyung, mostly buried in his food. It’s unlike him to be this quiet; he’s barely said a word since they sat down.
Yoongi knows he and the disgusting twosome have been taking it rather slowly, perhaps even slower than he and Hoseok, on account of none of them really knowing just how to proceed in their new relationship. This, of course, has all come from Hoseok and what he gets from Taehyung, who apparently is a lot more open than Seokjin and Jungkook. Hoseok hasn’t expressed worry over the issue, exactly, but he’s noticed, same as Yoongi, how quiet Jungkook is in situations like this. He nudges Yoongi in the rib with his elbow, forces Yoongi to sit up and look at him, the pair exchanging a significant look.
“I’m gonna go grab another beer,” Yoongi announces, getting to his feet and staring at Jungkook plainly so he knows he means for him to follow. He looks a little reluctant to get up, but he does, follows Yoongi into the kitchen and stands opposite where Yoongi leans against the countertop, arms crossed.
“What’s up with you?” Yoongi says, plainly. He tries to say it kindly, really doesn’t want to make Jungkook feel shitty for not talking about his feelings, but he’s told him before that being direct with his feelings are the best way to deal with anything, and he’s quite frankly sick of not being able to talk about whatever it is that is clearly bothering Jungkook so much.
“Nothing,” Jungkook says, tracing his socked foot across the floor.
“Kook. Has something happened with them?” he asks, can’t be bothered to flirt around something he’s been suspecting for the last week or so. “Did they say they don’t wanna date you, or something?”
“No, no. Things are good with them.”
“Are they?”
“Well, I guess. It’s not bad.”
Yoongi sighs, goes to grab the beer he’d mentioned from the fridge, fishes out another one for Jungkook and opens them both before handing it to him. “Jungkookie, what’s going on?”
“Promise you won’t like, I don’t know, tell me I’m being stupid or sensitive or whatever?”
“When have I ever said anything like that? Tell me, Kook. I’m worried about you. So is Hoseokie.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath, then a large gulp of his beer, before he begins. “Things are going well with us. We’ve kissed, we hang out a lot. Last Friday Seokjin cooked for us both and then we played video games and it was nice, right? It’s all just been really nice.”
Yoongi stays quiet, waiting.
“But like… you saw how they are, right? You see how easy they are together, how much fun they have.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I just never wanna push in on that. I’m not part of their cute bickering, I’m not someone who knows that Seokjin doesn’t like friend rolls. It’s nice to be kissed and flirted with, but I just… I want all the other stuff too.”
“I get it, Kook. I do.”
“I feel like an ass. I have this great thing; two really hot guys like me and it works. But I just keep asking for more.”
“Hey, no, that’s not what this is. You want intimacy, Kookie, that’s not a bad thing.”
“I don’t even know how to get it, hyung,” Jungkook says, sadly. “I don’t even know if they’d get it if I told them how I feel.”
Yoongi huffs, stuck himself for how to handle this. He tries to think about how his relationship has developed with Hoseok, how in just a month they’ve already eased to a comfortable, easy partnership. There’s still stuff left to feel out, things to figure out and learn about one another. Yoongi is learning quickly the complexity of Hoseok’s character; his sensitivity to stress, his harshness on himself, the pressure he feels as a performer and as a bright, sunny friend. It’s come from time, from close, intimate moments, and from observing the larger moments in turn, letting himself become part of them. He wonders how much Jungkook tries to be part of Taehyung and Seokjin’s relationship, how much he holds back for the worry of intruding on something he’s already been invited to.
“I think you should talk to them, Kookie,” Yoongi says, honestly. “I think you should talk to them, and I think you should have time with them on their own.”
“I can’t ask them to-“
“Kook, listen. I know it feels like you’re pushing in, but they wouldn’t have told you they felt the same if they didn’t want you around. And I’m sure it’s not just them as a couple, I bet they each want some time with you, to get to know you, to build up all those little jokes and to learn about your likes and your dislikes. Have you ever spent time one-on-one with either of them?”
Jungkook shakes his head.
“And they’ve had years of just being with one another. I don’t think it’s so unreasonable to ask whether you could maybe have some separate Taehyung time, then some separate Seokjin time. Does that make sense? I don’t know if I’m saying the right thing.”
“No, I think you are. You’re being smart, hyung.” He sets his beer on the counter beside him, scrubs a hand through his hair.
“You just have to be open, okay? You read up on it, didn’t you? Didn’t the websites tell you polyamory is all about communication?”
Jungkook nods, still looking a little sheepish.
“I don’t wanna mess this up, hyung.”
“And you’re not going to,” Yoongi says, pulling Jungkook back towards the living room, patting his shoulder. “Come on.”
“Jungkookie,” Taehyung whines immediately as they re-enter the room, reaching out as Jungkook approaches. “Come here, Jinnie is annoying me.”
Jungkook glances at Yoongi, who smiles, before he makes his way to Taehyung’s waiting arms, cheeks flushing when Taehyung pulls him into his lap and holds him tightly, turning his body away from Seokjin, who is complaining rapidly through a pout about Taehyung being insolent. Namjoon and Jimin are laughing, cuddling now most of the food is finished.
Yoongi sets his beer on the coffee table and just manages to sit back down next to Hoseok, kissing him hello, before Seokjin has both the boys pulled into his arms in a messy cuddle pile, both squirming but making no real attempts to break free. Yoongi watches the smile bloom across Jungkook’s face, a little shy at first as he eases into Taehyung’s arms, lets one of Seokjin’s hands hold one of his as he rocks them from left to right, still telling Taehyung off for whatever it is he did.
“He okay?” Hoseok whispers into Yoongi’s ear.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, turning so they’re looking at each other. Hoseok smiles.
“You okay?”
Yoongi nods, pecking Hoseok’s lips chastely in answer.
Yoongi stands at the door to the dressing room with a bouquet of yellow roses wrapped in crisp brown-paper nestled into the crook of his arm. He hadn’t been able to make it to the show tonight, but Hoseok had asked if he could make it afterwards, and so he’d wanted to do something special. He goes to knock on the door, but before he can it’s being thrown open. Jimin stands there in nothing but his briefs, glitter smeared across his cheek.
“Hey, hyung!” he says cheerily, clearly not fazed by being caught in his underwear. “Hey, Hobi-hyung, it’s your loverboy. And he brought flowers!”
“Coming, one sec!” Yoongi hears Hoseok call.
“You know yellow roses mean friendship, right, hyung?” Jimin says, leaning closer to Yoongi so it’s only him listening. “Are you trying to tell our Hobi something?”
“Shit,” Yoongi says, gazing down at the flowers. He’d had no idea what each colour meant when he went to the flower shop after his late lecture had ended, had only a brief knowledge that red meant love and- Well, he didn’t want to go too overboard. He’d thought about pink, but then had decided that yellow suited Hoseok best; bright, cheery, happy. He didn’t want to go about giving the wrong feeling with the bouquets, had only wanted-
“Hyung, relax,” Jimin says, giggling. “I was just teasing. They’re beautiful, Hobi-hyung will love them.”
“He won’t get the wrong idea; won’t think I just want to be friends?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you teasing my boyfriend, Jiminie?” Hoseok says as he appears in the doorway, already clean-faced, in his casual clothes and holding his gym bag, ready to go. “Hey, hyung.”
“Hi,” Yoongi says, swallowing. He really wants to kiss Hoseok right now; it’s been over twenty-four hours since he last did it. But Jimin is standing right there, still smiling at him, still practically naked, so he doesn’t. “Urm, these are for you,” he says instead, handing Hoseok the bouquet.
“Oh!” Hoseok squeals, dropping his bag to the ground to hold the flowers in his arms. “Hyung, they’re beautiful! You’re so thoughtful.”
Ducking his head at the compliment, Yoongi smiles and mutters a ‘you’re welcome.’
“Are you coming with us tonight, hyung?” Jimin asks after a moment, “We’re gonna meet at the bar later.”
Yoongi looks at Hoseok for the answer, is relieved when Hoseok shakes his head. “We have plans tonight,” he says, staring straight at Yoongi with a more intent look.
“Okay…” Jimin says slowly, “You guys are gonna be gross tonight, I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow then, hyung?” He turns to Yoongi before ducking back into the dressing room. “And I’ll see you soon too, I expect, hyung!”
“He hasn’t seduced you, right?” Hoseok says in a low voice once Jimin is gone. “Not that he’d try, just-“
“Of course not,” Yoongi says, tugging on Hoseok’s sleeve. Hoseok smiles.
“These really are beautiful, hyung, thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, feeling a little stupid, “I didn’t know about the colour thing; Jimin just told me they’re for friendship. I just thought they were pretty and I didn’t know if-“
Hoseok silences him with a kiss, stepping forward and pulling him close. The flowers get pressed between them, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care as he pushes into Yoongi’s mouth. His mouth is a little greasy from the coconut lip balm he likes to slather on when he’s done with a show, and their noses knock together from the force of it, the tips pressing against each other. It’s a messy kiss, a lot messier than it probably should be out in public, but as Hoseok tugs Yoongi’s top lip between his teeth, soothes it with a gentle peck, Yoongi can’t find it within himself to mind.
“They’re perfect,” Hoseok says, voice a little winded from his own advancement. “You’re perfect.”
“Stop being gross and go home!” someone shouts from the dressing room, the rest of the room snigger and wolf-whistle. Yoongi flushes. Maybe he minds a little now.
“My place?” Hoseok asks, a blush set on his cheeks too.
*✧ ✰ 。*
There’s a silent promise hanging between them on the bus ride back to Hoseok’s flat, a promise that tonight something is going to happen. It’s further solidified when Hoseok rests his hand high on Yoongi’s thigh, stroking the flesh he has access to through the rips in them, then set mostly in stone when Hoseok mentions that his flatmate is out for the night, won’t be returning until the morning. They have the place to themselves. It’s a marvel Yoongi makes it off the bus.
It’s dark when they get in, not that they heed it much mind. Hoseok is quick to throw his bag to the floor once more, sets the flowers carefully on top then presses Yoongi against the front door. He watches him for a moment, like he’s considering what he wants to do. Yoongi waits pliantly, wants whatever Hoseok is willing to give, is ready to give up whatever Hoseok wants. When Hoseok leans in to his neck, Yoongi raises his head instinctively, lets Hoseok suck the bruising kiss into the skin there.
“I want to…“ he mutters against Yoongi’s skin, straddling one of Yoongi’s thighs and pushing against it. “Tonight. Is that okay?”
Cupping Hoseok’s face in his hands to pull him into a proper kiss, Yoongi nods against him.
Somehow, they manage to make it to the bedroom in a mess of thrown off clothes and giggly kisses. Yoongi ends up without his shirt, Hoseok without his sweats. The room is dark as Hoseok pushes Yoongi onto the bed, watching him for a moment before clambering on and straddling Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi sits up, takes hold of Hoseok’s waist and looks up at him, nerves suddenly running through him. Hoseok holds a palm to his cheek, stroking it with his thumb.
“You okay?”
Yoongi nods, gives himself a moment before he leans up to press their lips together again. The kiss is just a graze this time; softer, slower, with more promise. He focuses on the feeling of Hoseok’s lips, a little chapped from the chill outside, as he grazes them gently. He puckers his own but doesn’t insist on a heavier kiss. He feels Hoseok smile against him and suddenly has the urge to let his eyelids flicker open just to see it.
“I really like you, Yoongi,” Hoseok whispers between them. Yoongi feels the words on his mouth.
“I really like you too.”
“I wanna-“ he pauses, so Yoongi kisses him again. “Would you excuse me for one second?”
“I- Sure. Of course.” Yoongi leans back quickly, a little confused, but Hoseok pulls him back for one more kiss.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” He gives a fast, teasing grind of his hips against Yoongi’s growing arousal. “Don’t touch yourself yet, not without me.”
He slips away the moment Yoongi nods, rushing from the room and leaving Yoongi to lie back against the bed, head on the pillow. He clasps his hands together over his chest, finds they’re a little clammy, and hastily wipes them against the bedspread, lets them sit there instead. For a few minutes, he sits quietly, tries to listen out for the sound of Hoseok doing whatever it is he’s doing. He hears the closing of a door, but nothing more, his nervousness mounting.
He fumbles around for the main light switch above Hoseok’s bed and turns it on, illuminating Hoseok’s neat, clean bedroom. When Yoongi had first come over he’d found it cute how tense Hoseok was to show him his toy collection, had sat back as Hoseok had explained the origin of each one. He collects them, though they're mostly presents from his parents due to their price. They look at Yoongi now, staring at him with blank faces that set him on edge, given what he’s about to, and opts to turn the main light off, settling instead for the small, more modest light on the bed-side.
Mood lighting set, he then moves around to get comfortable. He runs his fingers through his hair, finds some lip balm towards the back of one of Hoseok’s drawers and smears it on, hoping it won’t be too obvious that he’s been preening himself. He’s just wriggling out of his jeans by the time he hears Hoseok on the other side of the door.
“Are you ready, hyung?”
Yoongi quickly throws the jeans to the side of the bed, tries to compose himself to look natural yet sexy. Neither of which comes easy as he sits up in his boxers, hands between his legs.
“Um, yeah,” he says, stupidly. He can’t believe how not sexy he’s being right now, hopes Hoseok won’t mind.
As Hoseok pushes open the door, Yoongi can’t help the way his mouth falls open. At first, he’s not sure whether Hoseok is trying to make him laugh, though a laugh doesn’t rise in his throat. He’s simply struck, staring at the sight of Hoseok as he stands in the doorway, looking just about as nervous as he feels but thrice as hot as he probably does, wearing his maids dress, lifting the skirt just enough for Yoongi to see a flash of the black, lacy panties he’s wearing, and a single black garter pulled high up his thigh.
“Since you missed the show tonight,” Hoseok explains, hesitantly. Yoongi glances up and realises Hoseok is wearing his red lipstick. “I figured you deserved a private viewing.”
Yoongi goes to say something, offer some kind of a response, but all that comes out when he opens his mouth is a squeak. Hoseok smiles shyly, tugging nervously at the hem of his dress.
“Is this okay, hyung? This isn’t too much, right? We don’t have to-“
“Could you come here?” Yoongi says, suddenly unable to hold back. Hoseok tilts his head. “Please?”
Hoseok nods slowly, making his way to the bed. It’s strange; Yoongi has seen Hoseok saunter in this outfit, has watched him strutting about the stage and flirt with the room as he teased the garter, threw kisses to the crowd. Never before has Yoongi seen Hoseok looking so hesitant wearing it, like he’s no longer playing a character. Yoongi wonders if maybe it’s just the prospect of having sex in the outfit that’s making him nervous, or whether Yoongi himself is having something to do with it too.
Trying not to think too hard about either possibility, Yoongi reaches for Hoseok as he gets closer, lets Hoseok take his hand in his as he stumbles back onto Yoongi’s lap. He’s in a better position for it now, with his back up against the headboard. Once he settles, arms loosely draped around Yoongi’s neck, Hoseok is quiet, as though he’s waiting for Yoongi to comment. Yoongi takes his time feeling the material that bunches a little at Hoseok’s waist, finds it soft beneath his fingers. He checks Hoseok’s expression before he trails his hand lower, finds his face is serious though somehow reassuring. Slowly, he pulls up the fabric covering Hoseok’s thighs, the flesh there bulging from the position Hoseok is in, until he can see the underwear Hoseok has on. His cock is barely concealed by the fabric, pulled taught by the bulge of it.
“I wear them sometimes,” Hoseok says quietly, as Yoongi lets his fingers skirt along the material where Hoseok’s thigh meets his crotch. “I just like them. And I stopped wearing them when we started going out because I never knew what was gonna happen and I didn’t wanna freak you out when if something did happen and maybe if you weren’t into them I didn’t-“
This time, it’s Yoongi who stops Hoseok with a kiss. His lips are sticky from the lipstick, the substance no doubt getting smeared across Yoongi’s mouth. He likes that Hoseok is nervous, likes that he’s so different to the character he plays. Somehow, it makes all of this easier, like he doesn’t have to be the most self-assured guy in the world either.
“I am so into them, Seok-Seok-ah,” he says once they part. It’s a new nickname; just something he’s trying out. He likes it, he thinks. Likes the way it makes Hoseok blush even more than he already is.
“Good,” Hoseok says, a little breathless. He smiles as he brings his thumb to wipe at Yoongi’s mouth, then gasps when Yoongi kisses it instead, inspired from nowhere. “So, do I think I could- Do you want-“
“Hm?”
Hoseok swallows, prepares what he’s going to say. “I think I’d really like to suck you off, hyung. Can I?”
“Oh.” Yoongi looks down at Hoseok’s lips. “Oh. Urm- sure. Yeah. Please.”
Smiling, Hoseok wriggles off him and adjusts himself so he’s spread across the bed, face close enough to Yoongi’s crotch that it makes him nervous. He doesn’t move though, just lets Hoseok do as he pleases, watches as he lays a palm on his tummy and pulls it down. When his fingers catch on Yoongi’s waistband, he looks up, eyes questioning. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, Yoongi gives him a silent, begging nod.
It’s all that it takes for Hoseok to pull the fabric down, letting Yoongi’s cock jump free, and settling it just under the base. He’s only half-hard, though this doesn’t seem to deter Hoseok, who licks a strip across his palm before wrapping his long fingers around it, jerking him to full hardness. Yoongi feels himself jerk once Hoseok’s warm hand engulfs him, takes in the sight of pretty fingers grasping it with ease.
“How do you like it, hyung?” Hoseok says after a moment of this, when all that Yoongi has offered him are little gasps of pleasure.
“Huh?”
“How do I make you feel good? I wanna make you feel good.”
For a moment, Yoongi wants to tell him there’s no way he could possibly make him feel any less than amazing, but then considers his options. “I like it when…” he feels embarrassed saying it, so reaches down to direct Hoseok’s hand higher, until he’s closer to the head. He rubs his own thumb under it, attempting to demonstrate, then hisses when Hoseok takes over with his hand and licks a mean strip right across Yoongi’s slit.
“Shit,” he curses, legs tensing. He feels Hoseok’s free hand gripping his thigh tight, the pain of it almost relieving. Apparently encouraged, Hoseok’s tongue swipes again, this time suckling the head for a moment before he lets off. “Oh god, Hoseok.”
Hoseok smiles at that. “You’re sensitive here, huh?” he says playfully, finger dabbing the small amount of precum that is dribbling out of him, smearing it around with the red lipstick that has gathered there with it. Yoongi tenses again as he watches Hoseok play with it, knows he’s being slow and deliberate now he’s found his confidence again. It’s a reflex that has him trying to push his legs together, but Hoseok holds them down, leans down briefly to nip at the skin of his thigh.
“Can I suck you off properly, hyung?”
Yoongi nods, can’t resist the urge to card his fingers through Hoseok’s curly orange hair. He’s so cute, even like this, even with his mouth smeared with red and a cock so close to his face. He’s adorable, and it warms Yoongi’s heart even in a situation like this.
The thought fades a little to the back of his mind when Hoseok finally attaches his lips more firmly around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi isn’t massive, per se, though thick has been a common review in his limited experience. Hoseok gets about half-way down, swallowing around it and covering the rest with his hands, continuing to jerk him off as he hallows his cheeks.
The sounds he makes are obscene, and there’s something about the lipstick that just makes the whole thing feel more intense; the feeling of it smeared across his shaft, the sight of it covering the skin around Hoseok’s mouth. Yoongi moans as Hoseok pulls his head back to focus on the head again, eyes flicking upward to watch Yoongi as he does so. Yoongi blushes at the eye-contact, throws his head back instead and clenches his fists beside him.
“You can put them in my hair if you want, hyung,” Hoseok says, voice raspy as he releases his grip on Yoongi’s thigh to take one of his hands. Yoongi looks back as Hoseok directs the hand to his hair, grinning when Yoongi takes a handful and tugs gently.
And that’s where Yoongi’s hands stay as Hoseok fits his mouth around his cock once more, sucking with more purpose now, his intent clear as he works Yoongi towards his release. He’s already feeling it mounting; it’s been a while since he’s done this, after all, and he’s never liked the someone he’s done it with quite so much. He tries to hold it off, but once Hoseok starts moaning around it, opening his throat as he attempts to push it back, he can’t help himself.
“Hoseok, I- Fuck- I won’t last. Please.”
Hoseok pulls himself off, doesn’t stop pumping the shaft as he looks up at Yoongi with dark eyes. “Do you wanna fuck me?”
Yoongi swears he can see stars. “Yes.”
“Can you come again?”
Yoongi thinks about it. Thinks about the sight of Hoseok on his cock. “Yes.”
Hoseok grins, doesn’t let go of the eye contact as envelopes Yoongi’s length again, not even bothering to tease now as he holds it in his mouth and hallows his cheeks. Yoongi tightens his grip in Hoseok’s hair as he feels himself start to let go, something fuzzy building in his abdomen and just behind his eyes. He goes to apologise before Hoseok cuts across him with a loud, unabashed moan. It’s then that time seems to slow around them, and Yoongi finally comes with a splintering yell of Hoseok’s name.
There’s a hazy, slow feeling to the way that Hoseok swallows around him as he comes. The moment goes strangely quiet once he’s done, with Yoongi’s soft, hesitant whimpers as he watches Hoseok lick the reminder of his release from the head. He feels light-headed in the best way; a pleasant kind of drunkenness clouding his head as he takes in the sight of Hoseok, his sweet, lovely, beautiful Hoseok, laying his cheek against his thigh and looking up at him with a soft, lazy smile.
“Are you alright?” he manages to say after a moment, voice sounding strained.
Hoseok nods. “Sorry for getting lipstick all over your dick. It looks like a bloodbath down here.”
Yoongi snorts, pushing Hoseok’s fringe from his face before stroking his thumb against Hoseok’s lips, smearing the little remaining lipstick across them. Hoseok opens his mouth as he does it, takes Yoongi’s thumb between his lips and suckles gently.
“You’re too hot to be real,” Yoongi says, a little baffled by it all.
Hoseok chuckles at that, sitting up on his knees in front of Yoongi again. “You think so?” he says as he takes hold of the material of his dress, making to pull it off. Yoongi can only stare as he removes it in one swift move and throws it to the bottom of the bed. That done, he turns around on his knees and falls forward onto all fours, arching his back delicately until Yoongi has a face-full of his ass, barely concealed by the thin, black material.
“Take them off,” Hoseok whispers, wiggling his ass a little.
Yoongi does as he’s told, slides the panties off, careful to keep the garter in place, until they pool by Hoseok’s knees. He gasps then, when he notices Hoseok’s second surprise; a small black plug nestled between his cheeks.
“Oh- Oh my god,” he says with a genuine gasp. “Hoseok-“
“Is it too much?”
“Absolutely not, no. It’s- Jesus.” He reaches out to touch it, taps it lightly. Hoseok gives a slight hiss at the sensation. “Any more surprises?”
“Nope, I-“ His breath hitches as Yoongi begins to tentatively pull the plug from his body, watching the way he stretches over the bulk of it. “I figured all this would be enough. I wear it- Ah- I wear it on stage sometimes. Fuck, hyung, please.” He whines the last word. It goes straight to Yoongi’s cock. He’ll be hard again in no time.
Yoongi’s eyes, having been transfixed on watching the plug as he gently rocked in and out of Hoseok’s body, flit upwards, looking at where Hoseok has his head pushed against the bedspread, his little whimpers becoming muffled.
“You wear it on stage?”
Hoseok whimpers again as Yoongi pushes the plug once more, until it’s back firmly in place. “Only sometimes. Sometimes it’s too much, I take it out in-between numbers but- but sometimes I just- I really like it in.”
Yoongi hums, traces his fingers over the plug again, feels for the way Hoseok is clenching around it, the way he’s shivering the longer he prolongs this. Before long, Hoseok is rolling on his back, legs spread wide and held up a little so Yoongi still has access. His cock, standing proudly against his stomach, is a little thinner than Yoongi’s, but nice to look at. He keeps himself neat down there, Yoongi notices. He tries not to think of Hoseok trimming himself and fails.
“Are you alright, hyung?” Hoseok says after a moment, sounding a little worried as he begins to close his legs. “Is this too much for you? If we’re going too fast, just tell me, we can slow it down, or-“
“I just really want to fuck you,” Yoongi admits in a quiet voice. He’s surprised by the blush that rises in Hoseok’s cheeks, and the giggle that follows. He holds his hands over his face and laughs into them, legs kicking out a little.
“Don’t laugh,” Yoongi says with a pout. “Why are you laughing?”
“Sorry, I just-“ Hoseok pulls his hands down his face low enough that Yoongi can see his eyes, staring at him intently. “You’re so cute, hyung. I really like you.”
“You said that already,” Yoongi says, a little more encourage now as he smooths a hand over Hoseok’s thigh.
After a moment, Hoseok reaches for it, wraps his slender fingers around Yoongi’s wrist and pulls him lightly until he’s moving to hover over Hoseok’s lithe frame. He’s beautiful, really, every bit the perfect sculpture Yoongi imagined him to be; one of those sculptures that are so well done they appear soft despite being carved from stone. A perfect contradiction. Something impossible and all the more beautiful for it.
Once Yoongi is above him, holding himself up with hands either side of Hoseok’s head, Hoseok leans up just enough to kiss Yoongi again. His mouth is bitter from the lingering taste of Yoongi’s release, but it doesn’t stop him reciprocating when Hoseok’s tongue swirls against his, traces his teeth slowly with the tip of it. Hoseok pulls away slowly, only to grasp Yoongi lightly by the neck and whisper in his ear.
“I’d like it if you fucked me,” Hoseok admits in a slow, sultrily voice, “condoms in the middle drawer.”
And with that, Hoseok falls to the bed again, eyelids heavy with want. Yoongi scrambles to do as Hoseok wants, grabs a loose condom from the drawer and a bottle of lube he finds there too. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again once he begins jerking himself, with the sight of Hoseok reaching down to play with the plug inside him, staring at him boldly as he waits for him to tear open the wrapper and slip the condom on. He then moves to kneel before Hoseok again, grabs pillows from behind him and hands Hoseok one for his head, pushes one underneath him to hold him up.
Once done, he takes hold of the plug again, this time pulling it from Hoseok’s body with more intention. Shiny with lube, it slips from his body completely, and Yoongi watches it transfixed as Hoseok’s hole clenches down onto nothing.
“Yoongi-“ Hoseok whines, reaching out for him. “Please.”
Yoongi is quick, then, to throw the plug beside him on the bed, smear a little more lube around Hoseok’s hole and over his cock, and lean over Hoseok again. He brushes the hair from Hoseok’s eyes as he feels Hoseok’s strong, toned legs wrap around his waist, locking him in as he begins to push inside.
“Is this alright?” he asks, stopping short before he enters Hoseok.
Mirroring his legs, Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi’s leg, more firmly than before, and pulls him close, kissing him messily. “Yes,” he says, sounding sure. “Please, fuck me, hyung.”
The words, so simple and clear, are enough to calm any anxiety Yoongi has had about this moment. He’s worried about not being enough, about wanting too much at the wrong time. He’s agonised over it, has wondered if he could ever really deserve a man like Hoseok. Someone so sexy and alluring, but so sweet and kind and complex. Now, though, something about Hoseok’s surety in him is making him sure. The hitch in Hoseok’s breath as he begins to push inside, the small fist clasping the hair at his nape, the arching of Hoseok’s back as he finally bottoms out, is all Yoongi needs to know he’s enough.
“Move, please, Yoongi,” Hoseok moans, so beautifully that Yoongi doesn’t even care about the dropped honorific. Doesn’t care if he never hears the word again. “So full.”
“You’re beautiful,” he says as he begins to push in and out of Hoseok’s body. He grasps Hoseok’s legs, pushes them enough so he’s bent almost in two, trying to get the right angle until Hoseok has to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“Oh Jesus,” Hoseok squeaks as he’s rocked up and down against the bed, holding onto Yoongi desperately. “Right there.”
Yoongi nods, making sure his thrusts meet that spot inside of Hoseok that has him wailing along with the wet slapping sound of skin against skin. It’s then that he spares a hand to push between them, jerking Hoseok off quickly, wanting to savour it but also wanting to drink in Hoseok’s orgasm, wants to see his face, feel it around him as he comes.
“Yoongi- Gonna- I’m gonna-“
“Come,” Yoongi says, bottoming out again and rolling his hips against Hoseok’s, wanting him to feel every inch of it. “Please come, Seok-seok-ah.”
Yoongi wonders if it’s the nickname or the thumb his slips across Hoseok’s slit that finally pushes him over the edge. He’s not sure it matters, really, with Hoseok shooting ropes between them, splattering both their stomachs and thighs with it. He cries out, grips Yoongi’s hair tighter as he speeds up, eager to reach his second end now, for Hoseok’s sake.
It takes him only a few more pushes before he’s there, releasing into the condom, rolling his hips a few more times for good measure. He slumps on top of Hoseok, unable to hold himself up, and enjoys the feeling of Hoseok carding his fingers through his hair tenderly, as though to make up for pulling so fiercely at it only moments ago. The air goes quiet, still but for their heavy breathing.
“That was- God, that was good,” Hoseok says after a moment, still gasping for air. Yoongi smiles as he kisses his nose, his cheeks, everywhere he can reach. “You’re like- You’re definitely not a virgin then.”
It takes Yoongi a moment to get the joke, to remember back to their first meeting. He’d been so shy, so bashful. He’d never pictured himself here, cock softening inside of Hoseok, the man panting beneath him, kissing his cheeks and being told how good he is.
“I’m so glad I met you,” Yoongi breathes out. It’s the only thing he can think of saying in this moment. The only thing that fits.
Yoongi hadn’t prepared himself for just how sad he’d feel on the night of the last Rocky Horror performance. It marks more than just the end of this production; marks the end of another semester, highlights all that’s changed in just a few short months. The theatre club is already talking about what musical or play they might tackle next term (there’s been talk of putting Jungkook in the next one, much to his excitement), but tonight all that anyone can think of is Rocky.
There are thirty minutes to go before the start of the show when Yoongi makes it to the back room. Back at the flat, he’d told Jungkook and Namjoon to go ahead while he prepared his… surprise.
He feels a shiver of excitement rush through him as he pushes open the door, takes in the usual mad rush of a dressing room pre-show time. Jungkook and Seokjin are wrestling playfully towards the back of the room, Seokjin only in a white t-shirt tucked into his golden shorts. Taehyung, only half-way dressed but with make-up mostly done, is attempting to push himself between them and swatting them as his giggles fill the room. Beside them, Jimin is sitting up on the make-up table, Namjoon pressed into a chair in front of him, watching as Jimin applies the fake-eyelashes to his upper lid, body twisted a little so he can look into the mirror behind him. Yoongi watches as he turns, closing his eyes and leaning forward for Namjoon to blow gently on his eyes.
When Jimin opens his eyes, it’s Yoongi he spots first, stood in the doorway, smirking at all his friends shamelessly flirting. Jimin winks at him, then nods towards Hoseok, who is sitting in his usual spot, powdering his cheeks.
Considering there’s a mirror threatening to give him away, Yoongi reckons he does a good job of sneaking up on his boyfriend, rushing quickly to lean over the back of the chair and hug him from behind before Hoseok has even noticed him.
“Shit, hyung,” Hoseok curses, holding Yoongi’s arms where they’re strung around his neck. “Scared me,” he says with a pout, though holds Yoongi tighter when he begins to pull away, turns his head so Yoongi can kiss him. He hasn’t got his lipstick on yet, which means Yoongi can kiss him deeply without worrying about ruining his make-up (not that Hoseok has complained about that before.)
Yoongi doesn’t set out to make much of the kiss, had only meant it as a greeting, but before long he’s licking into Hoseok’s mouth, feeling heavy with the desire to just take Hoseok right here. It’s not the first-night Yoongi has wanted Hoseok before a show, though tonight is the only night he’s seriously considering asking him for a quickie in the bathroom before he goes on stage. He’s just about to ask him, when they’re serenaded with wolf whistles from the rest of the room.
“Some of us are single!”
“You guys are gross!”
“Can you two stop being so in love!”
They both flush at the last one, pulling away quickly. Yoongi rubs his lips with his fingers, likes that they’re a little wet from Hoseok’s tongue. He watches as Hoseok finishes patting his skin with the soft cushion before getting up and turning so his back is to the mirror. He leans against the make-up table and pulls Yoongi in by the waist until he’s as close as he wants him. “What’s got you all worked up then, hm?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
Hoseok’s eyebrow quirks up at that. “Oh?”
Careful that Hoseok’s eyes are the only ones on him, Yoongi nods, then reaches beneath the waist-band of his jeans, pulls out the lacy band of the panties he’s wearing just high enough that Hoseok can see them, eyes widening when he realises what Yoongi’s got on.
“Are those-“ Hoseok begins, hand reaching to trail fingers across the soft, blush-pink materiel edging across Yoongi’s skin.
“You left them at my place,” Yoongi explains, with a small smile he can’t help; he likes this feeling. Likes knowing what he’s got on, a secret he can share with Hoseok. He feels pretty in them too, had spent a good twenty minutes admiring the way they pulled over his butt, left his cheeks hanging out a little. “Figured I’d try them out. That okay?”
For a moment, Hoseok’s face is unreadable, and Yoongi wonders if maybe stealing his underwear and wearing them without permission was the wrong move. He’d just wanted to be impulsive, sexy, wild. He’d wanted Hoseok to see him in the same way he sees Hoseok; something crazy and unpredictable and amazing. He’d wanted-
“You are absolutely the sexiest thing on earth, Min Yoongi.”
Well, a response just like that, really.