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i'll blow all of my love to your lips

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yoongi wakes up to the sound of rain.


he hears it, first, against the window and when he finally opens his eyes he can see the drops hitting the half of the window that isn't covered by the curtains. he can't tell what time it is by the sun because today it seems to be hidden behind the dense grey clouds, it could be 8am or 2pm, but he feels the warmth of a body behind him in bed and an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, so; early, he guesses. still early. 


he closes his eyes again, being lulled by the rain and the warm, soft sheets and the faint smell of jungkook's skin and he turns around like that to hide his face in jungkook's chest, seeking warmth and a barrier from the clarity of the morning. yoongi presses a kiss on the bare skin there and jungkook moves a little, sighs but doesn't wake up, just pulls yoongi closer.

when he wakes up again it's thanks to the sound of the curtains being thrown open, sunlight flowing in that makes his eyes hurt even before opening them.


yoongi doesn't. he knows jungkook is next to him, so he turns with his eyes closed and groans.


" why, namjoon…"


beside him, jungkook groans as well, feeling around for the blanket but he finds yoongi's arm instead, throwing it around his neck. namjoon chuckles.


"rise and shine, my loves."


yoongi opens only one eye to see namjoon hovering over the bed with a little smile on his face. he looks big like this, too tall and gorgeous with two deep dimples, an angel's kiss on each cheek.


despite his fondness, he moves one of his legs under the blanket until his foot is free. he feels cold immediately, but he doesn't stop until his toes touch namjoon's thigh, pressing there. "time s'it?"


namjoon slaps yoongi's foot away softly, too weakly to be mean. "past eleven," he says, climbing on the bed and crawling past yoongi until he's kneeling next to jungkook. yoongi watches with eyes full of love and warmth, the type of love and warmth that is reserved and felt in cozy sunday mornings, as namjoon carefully moves jungkook's hair out of his face and traces his eyebrows and nose with his finger.


he presses a kiss to jungkook's forehead, very soft, then another to his nose, his cheek, his jaw. "baby," he whispers softly softly softly. "jungkook-ah."


jungkook hums, reaching out blindly, but definitely awake now, pulling namjoon close.


"up, baby. good morning."


yoongi huffs loudly, crossing his arms now that they areempty of jungkook, moving up on the bed. "how come he gets kisses but i get woken up violently?"


at this, jungkook laughs, hidden in namjoon's chest. the sun could have come out, right then.


namjoon rolls his eyes. "hyung, he's the baby."


"he's 23."


"exactly. a baby."


jungkook reaches out behind him and tries feeling around the bed. when his hand lands on yoongi's hip, he pulls him closer. yoongi goes easily until he's pressed against his back, letting jungkook take his hand and kiss his open palm. "morning, hyung," he says, then he looks up at namjoon. "morning."


yoongi kisses the back of his neck, the skin cotton-soft. "morning, pretty," he says, then reaches out to run the back of his finger down the line of namjoon's jaw. he gets a soft smile in response. "you, too. slept well?"


namjoon nods. "perfect. woke up around eight," he pauses, pressing a loud kiss to jungkook's forehead before kneeling up on the bed again. yoongi snuggles closer to jungkook. "got breakfast for you."


jungkook lights up at this. he lets out a little hell yeah that gets cut short when he stretches big on the bed. yoongi and namjoon share an endeared look. "can we have breakfast in bed?"


again, yoongi and namjoon look at each other. they have to take turns being the bad cop with jungkook, both of them far too fond, too soft. namjoon is the villain in the mornings, mostly, because he's the only one that respects a decent sleeping schedule. he has a morning routine and everything, and whenever yoongi is awake he loves to watch namjoon reading under the early sun by the window, with sleep still in his eyes, his jaw locked to one side like it does whenever he's focused.


but today the rain keeps falling against the window, and the love is warm all over the sheets, so namjoon smiles and yoongi winks at him, cuddling against jungkook's side and passing a leg over his hips. "'course we can."


namjoon gets on his feet again. "i'll bring everything."


jungkook sits up, too, and he shivers when the sheet falls from over his shoulders. still, he rubs his eyes and says, "i'll help."


"no, baby, it's cold," namjoon says from the door already. "i got it, you make sure the blankets are straight so we don't make a mess."


jungkook does as he’s told as yoongi sits up on the bed, making sure his legs stay under the blanket in order not to freeze. he watches jungkook as he gets up to fix the sheets were they got messed up at the edge, pajama pants hanging loosely from his hips and his torso naked, arm full of tattoos exposed, from his hand all the way to his shoulder and back. his hair is long, longer than he’s ever worn it, and bright purple. he looks too pretty, too pretty for yoongi's heart to take. 


jungkook grabs a hoodie from the chair next to the bed. it could belong to any of them, really, it's plain black and yoongi honestly can't tell who is the original owner. he puts it on as he gets back into bed and sheets, wriggling close to yoongi. yoongi reaches out and runs his fingers through jungkook's hair, from his nape and down. his fingers get stuck and jungkook hisses.


"sorry," yoongi laughs. "you have a bird nest here, bun."


jungkook turns to him with a pout, and yoongi looks at him for a few seconds, his brain a mess of words that he has tried to express in endless ways before, but they're too pure at the core of themselves to do so, things like pretty and beautiful and i love him i really do and i wanna kiss him forever.


so he leans forward, kisses the pout out of jungkook's lips, then kisses him again, once, twice, three times and a last one, lingering, that gains him a sweet smile from jungkook when he pulls back.


"pretty." yoongi tells him, even though he could recite, perhaps, entire love poems about jungkook and his smile and his lip mole and the way his eyes glow as if the entire world was shining.


the door of the bedroom opens abruptly, revealing namjoon on the other side. he must have kicked the door open because in his hands he carries a heavy looking tray with their breakfast. from his mouth hang two spoons like fangs.


yoongi laughs but slips out of the bed, careful of not messing too much with the blanket and ignoring the cold that hits his legs.


"mm," says namjoon, unintelligible, but he shakes his head so yoongi supposes it must be something like no, let me.


"ah, seriously," yoongi takes the spoons from namjoon's mouth. "for the love of all things good, be careful with that, our sheets are white."


once the tray is laying on the middle of the bed, safely and steady, yoongi sighs and wraps his arms around namjoon's waist, patting his back softly. "thank you, namjoon-ah." he places a kiss on his jaw.


yoongi climbs back onto bed, carefully, jungkook already biting into a cookie. they look freshly baked, and so does the bread. namjoon must have gone to the bakery earlier, when he woke up, with the rain and everything. yoongi feels a wave of warmth for his boyfriend.


"these are so good," jungkook says, mouth full, then takes a big sip of his hot chocolate to swallow the cookie down. "thank you for breakfast, hyung."


three mugs lay on the tray, two of them with terrible, old fashioned inspiring quotes and little 8-bit emoticon hearts that jungkook got as a joke for them. jungkook's mug is the only one that doesn't match. yoongi bought it during a trip he took for work, it says "i ♡ barcelona" in an ugly font and it was a joke gift, the real gift being a new lens for his camera, but jungkook had smiled so big that yoongi had almost cried.


yoongi picks up his mug and cradles it against his chest, letting the warmth seep into his hands and his clothes. he feels good, as he takes the first sip of coffee of the day, hearing the rain get louder once again outside and with his boys on the bed with him. he watches as jungkook grabs another cookie and parts it in half, holding one of the pieces out to namjoon who leans forward, smile on his face and his eyes, cheeks the slightest shade of pink as he takes the cookie from jungkook's fingers with his teeth.


my boys, yoongi thinks, and his heart may be swelling inside of his chest, bombing blood cherry red, and just as sweet.


moments like this, yoongi keeps. i will remember this moment, he tells himself. years from now i will remember this moment, an ordinary sunday morning with shitty weather that has nothing special, because they are.

he looks inside of the little box in his brain that belongs to him, jungkook and namjoon and no one else, and picks one memory, sees jungkook but with short black hair and a lot less tattoos. in the memory, his boyfriend plays with his hand, tracing each one of yoongi’s fingers, then his knuckles, then his wrist, pressing on the protruding bone there. they’re in bed, sitting against the headboard, but namjoon’s not there— he and namjoon had fought. now, it escapes yoongi why. it wasn’t important, probably, but namjoon had gone out to take a walk and clear his head.


the room is silent in the memory, illuminated by the colors of a sunset. jungkook’s skin looks golden.


“i love you.” he says in a very quiet voice. in memories, other people’s voices never sound quite right. but yoongi hears it just fine, sweet and clear like the water of a creek, and he shivers.


yoongi turns the hand on jungkook’s hold to wrap it around his softly. he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss there, on the black ink forming a heart. the light changes from golden to pink in the matter of a few seconds. “jungkook,” yoongi says. “jungkook, i love you, too.”


jungkook hums, slight smile dancing on his lips, pinker than the clouds. yoongi sighs, the ugly aftertaste of a fight still fresh on his tongue, and he has to wash it off. “you know, hm?” he whispers it, and only the sound of the city fills his silences. “even if hyung doesn’t say it as much. i love you. i— i try my best to show you. both of you.”


jungkook clicks his tongue, not unkindly, and squeezes yoongi's hand where yoongi's holding it, still pressed very gently to his mouth. "hyung," he says, searching for his eyes until yoongi looks at him. "we know. we do. if you're worried— me and namjoon-hyung both know. you show it so well, hyung, so well, so loud, your love. your heart is so big, i promise we know."


yoongi takes a deep breath, remembers thinking they love me, over and over. i am his as they are mine and i love them, i love them i love them and—


—they love me.


"tell him," jungkook murmurs, running his fingers through yoongi's hair softly. his eyes, fixed on yoongi's face, overflowing with tenderness. "tell him when he comes back." he says.


so a little later, when namjoon comes back and the clouds have almost stopped reflecting the last bits of sun, yoongi walks out of the bedroom and follows namjoon's humming to the balcony. quietly, he holds namjoon, pressing his cheek to his back and wrapping his arms around his torso, hands flat against namjoon's chest.


"yoon?" namjoon asks, and god, yoongi could fall apart each and every time namjoon pronounces his name. he could have come undone, then and there, if he wasn't holding onto his love like that.


" yeah," it was a breath. "yeah, joon-ah, my joon-ah. hi."


yoongi feels namjoon's chest inflating under his fingers, his heart beating in a language yoongi could never completely comprehend, but that he would spend a lifetime trying.


he feels two warm hands pressing against his own, clumsy fingers with measured carefulness, and then namjoon turns around slowly, making sure yoongi doesn't take his hands away. pressed against his front now, yoongi rests his forehead on his boyfriend's chest.


namjoon places both his hands on the sides of yoongi's head and presses a long, love-filled kiss on top of his hair.


it's an apology— a silent one. but yoongi remembers times when he and namjoon fought in the past, older than this one memory, and namjoon would tell him you don't need to apologize when yoongi said sorry. but no, yoongi would say, no, namjoon-ah, there's no such thing as an unnecessary apology.


so yoongi smiles, in this memory, when namjoon says, " i'm sorry, yoongi."


yoongi shakes his head, looks up to meet namjoon's serious eyes. " me, too. i'm sorry too ."


namjoon looks at him like he’s trying to find something in his face, his eyes, one hand on the railing of the balcony, the other pressing into the skin of yoongi's hip, under his shirt.


yoongi remembers feeling out of breath at namjoon's serious expression, a mixture of soft and hard factions, his eyebrows set in a line and coming together almost at the bridge of his nose. he's beautiful, he must have thought at that moment. nothing else would make sense. namjoon leans down, face softening, and presses a kiss in the center of yoongi's mouth, right there where his cupid's bow forms a heart. it's heavy in a way that makes yoongi feel light— heavy with pure emotions that namjoon took directly from his own heart.


" i love you, " yoongi says, and his heart beats a bit faster because, even though they've loved each other for a long time, it wasn't until jungkook that they started saying it, along with showing it. " so much, namjoon. "


namjoon smiles softly, softly but his dimples still appear, almost shyly, as namjoon moves his hand to brush yoongi's hair back, then run a thumb across his cheekbone, and finally pressing it down on the center of yoongi's lips again, where his lips had been. yoongi huffs out a laugh.


" i know," he says, and yoongi tightens his hold around namjoon in an attempt to not let all the love he feels make him float away. "i know, love, i love you, too. "


the balcony has gone dark and the city lights have come alive, and namjoon and yoongi are pressed so close together that they could be one with two heartbeats. they stay like that for a little while, in yoongi's memory it seems like a long time, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, until they hear the door opening.


yoongi, with his back to the door, doesn't move, but he feels namjoon raising his head, then steps and a warm body pressing behind him, arms wrapping around his shoulders and reaching out, closing behind namjoon's back.


" are you guys done crying?"


namjoon snorts and yoongi elbows jungkook softly on the stomach, making them all laugh.


jungkook apologizes in a whisper, pressing a kiss to yoongi's neck. " hi, silly hyungs."


" hi, baby," yoongi hears namjoon say, feels the vibrations of each word against his skin. " sorry about earlier."


jungkook makes a soft noise of disagreement. " no, no. no sorrys. no sorrys. "


they share sweet words in murmurs, then. yoongi can't remember what they were, for that's a little blissful joy of yoongi of the past, of that one spring evening that doesn't hurt, doesn't hurt at all.


he looks at them, now, a few years later, and is filled with warm pride thinking that they did a pretty great job, together. what they built for themselves, this place they all have to come back to, to come home to every night, knowing there will be hands to hold you, shoulders to cry on, knowing that your happiness will be shared and your grief will be silently held.


yoongi has doubted many times, in the past, if they could make it where they are today. and it was not so much about not having faith in their love, for if there is something yoongi believes in, it's in the way his boys hold their love in his hands, the way they hold yoongi's, too— but it was more about the fact that sometimes not even all the love in one's heart is enough. yoongi was aware of that, and of the lack of kindness that one can find in the world, and he hoped, silently but with all of himself, that their love would be enough.


and this is where they arrived; to this bed, today. and he doesn't know if this was ever part of their plans, he knows it wasn't a part of his, but there's nowhere else he'd rather be. no other bed, with no other boys.

"hyung," jungkook calls. he'd been telling namjoon about a portfolio he's been putting together for work with bright, enthusiastic eyes. yoongi looks up from his coffee, munching on a piece of bread still warm. "where did you go?"


yoongi smiles, guiltily at being caught lost in thought, and says, "'m right here." namjoon shakes his head, dimples in full glory.


"why are you blushing?" he asks, teasing, prodding on yoongi's leg with his foot.


"i don't blush." yoongi says, cheeks pink. both his boyfriends laugh at him, the sound making his heart jump in fondness.




yoongi rolls his eyes, two pair of eyes looking at him, full of soft amusement, expectant. he sighs theatrically. "i was thinking about you guys." he admits.


jungkook and namjoon both coo at him, making him hold back a laugh.


"softie," jungkook sing-songs. "softie hyung."


"isn't he?" namjoon moves the tray from the way and lays down his head on yoongi's folded legs. "isn't hyung cute, jungkook-ah?"


"you two are awful," says yoongi, even as he sinks his fingers in namjoons hair, making him sigh softly, looking up at him with teasing eyes. "hate you both."


jungkook hums, laying down on top of the blankets to rest his head on namjoon's stomach, reaching out to grab yoongi's free hand and intertwine their fingers together. "love mornings with you." he says around a yawn. he lifts his head to move namjoon's sweater up and press a kiss to his tummy, then one on yoongi's hand.


yoongi adores how their love transforms. he likes the form it takes in mornings like this one, when everything is slow and warm and lazy. he likes the form it takes in the kitchen, gentle and caring, hyung i'll cut these for you and here baby try this and tell me if it's missing something and i'm full already you guys eat more. he likes the form it takes in the balcony when it's warm, and when it's cold, too, and they make an effort to stay for just a few more minutes because namjoon is watering the plants and jungkook is singing to them so they can grow strong and pretty and yoongi sits there, absorbing all that water and all the pretty melodies as well so that he can grow stronger, too.


on sundays, time goes by differently; it's all slow and fast at the same time, lazy in a way that makes you wish the day was forty eight hours long just so that you can stay in bed longer and kiss your lovers gently on the mouth, feel their skin under your fingertips. it's pointless yet it stands for itself, the way they share touches just because, for the sake of touching, for the sake of loving.


jungkook presses more kisses on namjoon's stomach and they turn from little pecks to little bites, a trail of marks from his side to his ribs and yoongi watches, as he moves his fingers softly up and down namjoon's neck, in a feather light touch. they don't say much but they look at each other and their eyes speak— not words. eyes don't speak words. eyes speak whole entire galaxies, like the one he sees in jungkook's stare, there are stars burning bright somewhere inside of him. like he is the brightest one himself. they share looks and little smiles and speak in sighs and soft sounds, yoongi growing warmer with every little puffed breath that leaves namjoon's mouth.


they move with no destination around the bed, their limbs, long and out of control, writing invisible poems and painting invisible colors on the sheets. they're warm, warm, warm, and the rain outside plays a thousand different songs just for them. jungkook sits on top of namjoon gracelessly and laughs into his mouth, loud and sweet and yoongi feels, as he kisses the back of namjoon's neck, a shooting star burning inside of his chest. 


namjoon's skin smells like the warmest place on earth. yoongi slips his hands under his sweater and feels it, smooth and warm and his hands meet jungkook's at namjoon's stomach, making the three of them laugh.


"if you guys want me naked you just have to ask." namjoon says, and then gets rid of his sweater clumsily, almost hitting yoongi's ribs in the process and yoongi would tease, normally, he's about to, the joke on the tip of his tongue but he hears jungkook kissing namjoon again and he forgets, forgets it all to watch his boys, his pretty, pretty boys kissing soft and sweet. he kisses too, once again, this time a trail down the center of namjoon's back, following his spine and then back up. when yoongi reaches the neck again jungkook is looking at him so he leans forward, kissing him over namjoon's shoulder. namjoon kisses his jaw and down his neck slowly. they kiss and touch like they have all the time in the world in their hands.


they stay like that; yoongi pressed to namjoon's back and jungkook to his front, whispering little nothings that make them flushed, make them laugh. after a while, yoongi kisses namjoon's cheek with finality, then jungkook's forehead and pulls back.


"lunch isn't gonna make itself, sadly," he says, looks through the mountain of the clothes from the week, reminding himself to do laundry after they shower, and finds a pair of sweatpants. again, he doesn't know who they really belong to— surely not to him, telling by the way the legs cover his feet almost entirely. "what should i make?"


"noodles!" says jungkook.


namjoon and yoongi both look at him, raised eyebrows.


"you have a personal chef and you ask for noodles?" namjoon asks.


yoongi snorts. "excuse me? what personal chef, i'm your boyfriend."


"boyfriend who cooks," he says, jungkook giggling on his lap. "personal chef." yoongi shakes his head but he bites back a smile as he smacks the backs of both jungkook and namjoon's heads. "i'm kidding, what do we have?"


yoongi tries to think, pictures how the fridge looked last night the last time he opened it. "we have, uh, veggies. we have some tofu left. rice. noodles," he sends jungkook a look. "and i think there's chicken breasts in the freezer."


namjoon and jungkook look at each other, thinking, and they look so adorable yoongi huffs out a laugh.


"stir fry?"


yoongi nods, satisfied. "stir fry. got it."


jungkook gets up, standing up on the bed and namjoon clicks his tongue, slapping his thigh. "i'll help."


"no need, jungkook-ah," yoongi smiles at him, standing outside of the bedroom already. "i got it. why don't you guys take a shower so we can do laundry later?"


and so they go, jungkook and namjoon fake fighting their way to the bathroom and yoongi to the kitchen. even though the sun's not out, namjoon has opened every curtain in the house, letting the light in. yoongi connects his phone to their little cactus-shaped speaker and soft music starts pouring out.


he enjoys this, all of it, washing the veggies and cutting them as he hums to the song playing, slicing the chicken breasts in little cubes, even though it's half frozen and it makes his fingers hurt. he loves cooking, especially for his boys, likes to cut the carrots a little smaller because jungkook doesn't like it when they crunch and to make sure the tomatoes don't go in with any seeds because namjoon doesn't like the center part.


yoongi hears a loud thump from the bathroom and he pauses, cleaning his hands on the apron, ready to go check everything's okay but then comes a loud laugh, and a whiny protest of ah, jungkook! so he smiles, deciding on making a cup of instant ramen for jungkook, too.


when they walk into the kitchen, cheeks flushed warm, looking relaxed and content, the noodles are waiting for jungkook on the table and he smiles, big and bright, his nose scrunching with it.


"hyung!" he jumps, then skips to yoongi, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.


yoongi waves his hand. "it's just a snack." he says.


jungkook sits to eat and namjoon stands behind him, parting jungkook's wet hair carefully, focused expression and hairband on his wrist. yoongi watches them as he seasons the stir-fry, listens to jungkook complaining with his mouth full about it being the third time they postpone the filming, but i only have a week for editing and the deadline is in a month, and i can rush through it but it's not gonna look as good and then the blame is gonna be on me.


"well," says yoongi. "didn't your boss let you turn in that portfolio? if it goes well and they let you work with the cameras it's gonna be a lot better," jungkook hums a discouraged, unsure little thing, so yoongi adds, "and it's gonna go well," he turns, pointing at jungkook with the wooden spoon he was using to mix the food. "they're gonna love it, because you're talented as hell, and you're gonna be the best, most incredible, most sexy cinematographer in south korea."


jungkook snorts and namjoon complains, a few hairs escaping his grip. "sorry, hyung," he says to him and then, to yoongi. "i don't know what me being sexy has to do with my work, but thank you. i'm almost done with the portfolio."


yoongi hums. "everything has to do with being sexy," he says, then tries the stir-fry. "joon-ah, come try this?"


"wait," says namjoon, tongue out as he tries to tie the half of jungkook's hair in a bun, the other half down and two strands of hair falling on his forehead. jungkook makes a pained face when namjoon gives a particularly hard tug and yoongi holds back a laugh. "there." he stands in front of jungkook to look at him. "pretty." 


namjoon comes to a stop next to yoongi, placing a hand on his hip and leaning forward. "smells good," he says, then accepts the spoon yoongi offers him, taking it into his mouth. he closes his eyes, making a scene of trying the food. "i love you," he says, mouth full. "marry me."


yoongi snorts, sinking his knee on the side of namjoon's thigh. "shut up. set the table?"


namjoon nods. "couch? we can watch something. jungkook wanted to watch that new marvel show."


behind them, jungkook shoots up. "i'll set everything!"

they eat huddled up on the couch, directly from the pan to save themselves having to wash the dishes later, both things which would make yoongi have a heart attack, any other day, because namjoon and jungkook are not the most careful people when it comes to eating on the couch, with clean blankets and a perfectly kept teflon deep pan that cost more than yoongi likes to remember, all that while watching a show. but yoongi’s just a man. one with two puppies as boyfriends that he can not resist.


namjoon, of course, is the first to fall asleep, jungkook following close behind him, a mess of tangled limbs. yoongi closes half of the curtain of the balcony and turns the volume of the TV down, covering them both with the blanket.


after showering, the pile of laundry looks at yoongi get dressed but he ignores it for a bit longer, his full stomach and the warmth from the shower making him sleepy. he follows the sound of a keyboard to the living room and finds jungkook sitting on the floor, face illuminated by his laptop screen. on the couch, namjoon is still asleep, facing the back.


"kook? you slept less than half an hour, baby."


jungkook looks up at him, eyes big and awake. "hm, i'm not tired. i wanna finish this. you sleep for a while, hyung, i'll take care of the laundry, don't worry."


yoongi hums, falling softly next to namjoon and fiddling with the blanket for a few seconds until he's able to cover both his feet and namjoon's. "remember to wash the—"


"dark things first, then the colors, i know. i won't touch the white clothes, not after last time."


last time, he accidentally washed yoongi's work shirt and it somehow ended up being green. yoongi smiles. "thank you, bun."


jungkook hums, and it's to the sound of him typing that yoongi falls asleep, cuddled to namjoon's back.

he wakes up in a much less gentle manner. that is: a 6ft tall man jumps on top of him, making him wheeze.


"—fucker." he says in a thin breath. he doesn't open his eyes just yet, and listens instead. jungkook's laugh is the loudest, of course, then there's the rain, still falling steadily, and then, if yoongi pays enough attention, he can hear the washing machine working.


namjoon is a bear, big and soft on top of him, but still very heavy and yoongi opens his eyes. he holds back a laugh when he's met with his boyfriend's fond eyes looking down at him. "excuse me, sir." he says, clearing the sleep out of his throat.


"yes?" namjoon smiles.


"you are on top of me."


"oh?" he says, faking confusion, then he looks down at himself where his body presses against yoongi's. "oh, would you look at that?"


yoongi snorts, loud, and pushes namjoon off himself and off the couch. he falls on the rugged floor with a muted thump. jungkook, not looking away from his laptop, shakes his head with a little smile on his face.


"deserve." he says.


yoongi sits up, stretching his limbs, ruffling his hair until it falls the right way over his eyes. "still raining?"


namjoon hums, getting comfortable on the floor. "yeah, not gonna stop until tomorrow, probably. you're gonna have to drive me to work, hyung."


"of course," yoongi smiles, nudging him softly with his socked foot.


"water's boiling for tea. there's coffee, although you shouldn't drink more coffee today. but there's a cappuccino option."


yoongi smiles again, not even thinking about complaining. it became namjoon's rule to cut out coffee on sundays, for yoongi to rest well for mondays. "tea's fine. that fruity one you bought."


namjoon disappears into the kitchen and comes back a few minutes later, balancing three steaming mugs on two hands and a book under his arm and yoongi holds back the urge to tell him to be careful, the rug's a bitch to clean, but namjoon makes it safely to the coffee table. he sits on the puff with his back to the balcony, the lighting perfect, and yoongi watches him as he reads, eyes moving slightly from left to right. he's beautiful like this— he's beautiful always. but like this, peaceful, all things soft and gentle in his eyes, it feels like it's his natural state of being. yoongi adores it, adores him helplessly.


jungkook sighs softly and yoongi turns to look at him. his fingers are paused, resting on the keyboard as he watches something on the screen with a frown, pout on his lips. he sighs again, takes a sip of his tea.


"what is it, baby?"


jungkook looks up at him, surprised, like he didn't realize he was being watched. "huh?"


yoongi smiles, crawls over the coffee table carefully and sits in front of jungkook, the screen of the laptop facing away from him. "you're frowning," he says, using his thumb to soften the skin there. "you're gonna get tense, jungkook-ah, why don't you take a break?"


"ah," he pouts more intensely, and yoongi almost coos at him. "i really want to finish this, i'm so close."


yoongi hums, moving his thumb to caress jungkook's cheek instead. "you will. you still have time, right? if it's frustrating you now, leave it for a bit, not saying the entire day, just a little while, and i bet that when you come back to it with your head refreshed, whatever's got you frowning like this won't seem so bad."


jungkook puffs his cheeks and yoongi takes his face between his fingers, pressing until this time it's him who forces a pout out of jungkook. they laugh but jungkook closes the laptop and yoongi counts it as a win, giving his tea a little sip. when he looks at jungkook again, he finds him looking at namjoon with a smile on his face and his heart beats a little faster, like it's happy to keep pumping blood so that yoongi can have this for a long time.


he chats quietly with jungkook about nothing, keeping their voices low not to disturb namjoon's reading. he finishes his tea, fruity and sweet, not really yoongi's taste, but it does make him feel warm and it puts namjoon at ease so he drinks it, anyways. he hangs the laundry inside, then washes the white clothes, listening to namjoon and jungkook discuss about one of jungkook's videos, their voices, soft and gentle, mixing together, lower and higher pitches creating a harmony that yoongi follows, has been following, will continue to follow for as long as he can, for as long as their voices come together like that, yoongi will follow.


yoongi has never been much of a strong believer of things like fate and miracles, not really. he believes that you make your own path, with your own hard work. he believes that there's no such thing as a final destination; there are a hundred destinations that you reach and use to rest and then keep going to reach the next one, and the next, and many times along the way you will miss one, maybe, or change your trajectory and find yourself in a destination that you thought wasn't for you but you're there, anyways, and no matter what, each time you make it, you've grown.


he believes that miracles are not huge, god-sent things that happen in hospital rooms, but rather things like this day: waking up to the sound of rain and sharing a bed with two warm bodies and the touch of their hands on him, making him, the smell of wet grass through the window and the laugh of his lovers that can be heard through the apartment. he believes that namjoon and jungkook choosing him each day like it's the easiest thing in the world is a miracle, breathing in the scent of their skin, the particular smell of their home, scents that could not be found anywhere else; scents that remind yoongi that he's here and that he's loved and that he loves he loves he loves.


they're different people, at their core. namjoon, jungkook and yoongi are different people, with joys and griefs of their own, and yoongi once thought himself incapable of being vulnerable enough to share those things with anyone else. letting people see your happiness means to also letting them see your sorrows. and there was jungkook, the happiest with the smallest of things, dripping joy at the smallest of gestures, smile open and big and excited like it could never occur to him to hide that away, like sharing your happiness with other people is a little happiness in itself. and there was namjoon, who could rip yoongi's chest open with a touch, with a word, with a just cry if you need to cry .


who are you hiding from? he had asked once, jungkook still a new, scary thing for them, far too delicate for yoongi, he was sure. he was worried enough to let him think he had the right to make that choice, to tell him to be careful, as if jungkook's emotions weren't a beautiful hurricane, untameable. who are you hiding from? namjoon had asked, yoongi shaking with feelings swallowed down, emotions kept at bay, words silenced, stuck on his throat, at the end of a pen, tears forming and forming and forming but never falling, a dam ready to give out. it's just me, he had said. it's just us, and yoongi had come undone.


now, they are the first people he wants to share the good news with when he comes home. some joys start with sharing them with the people you love.

"we should have mcdonalds tonight," says jungkook. he finished his portfolio and now he sits in front of the tv, controller in hand, playing a game distractedly. yoongi and namjoon lay behind him on the couch, their legs tangled. "i'm craving greasy food."


"it's raining too much to ask for delivery." yoongi says around a yawn.


jungkook hums but doesn't say anything right away. on screen, his character gets killed. he tosses the controller on the coffee table. "the closest mcdonals is like five blocks away, we won't ask for delivery," he says, like it's obvious. "we can just walk there."


yoongi looks at him, expression blank. of course jungkook would suggest this. "it's raining." yoongi reiterates.


jungkook says, "yeah. so?"


namjoon snorts next to them, making jungkook break into a grin as well, and yoongi takes a deep breath, trying to tell himself that he can convince them not to do this but he knows, already. he knows.


and so they stand at the door, one umbrella for three people because namjoon seems to have lost his, and jungkook always borrows one of theirs. three, considerably tall, grown men, two of whom look like they work out for a living, trying to fit under an umbrella. they look ridiculous, no better word for it.


of course, there aren't many people outside, so there's only cars to see the way they snicker and stumble on their way to the closest mcdonalds, trying to steal the umbrella for themselves, or the way they try not to trip on their own feet when jungkook presses the three of them closer together, cold against cold creating an odd warmth. it's nice, yoongi thinks. the rain, his boys, a single umbrella. it's nice.


on their way back, still a whole block away from the apartment, jungkook takes off with the umbrella, his laugh loud even with the sound of the rain and the traffic, his hair dancing wildly, shining bright purple.. namjoon and yoongi complain loudly, yelling curses, but the smiles on their faces are big as they run after jungkook, knowing they have no chance to catch him but trying anyways.


they make it inside completely soaked. jungkook is laughing breathlessly.


yoongi says, "you're dead, jeon jungkook." but it lacks strength, way too fond.


"i'm breaking up with you," says namjoon. "this is over."


jungkook laughs harder, stepping out of his sneakers and socks to follow after him and hang himself from his back. namjoon swats him away weakly. "you can't break up with me, yoongi hyung won't let you."


yoongi wants to complain. he prepares them a bath instead, pretending to be annoyed by it, complaining that they already showered today, that they did the laundry, but, again, it lacks strength. there's a feeling that has settled in his chest, warm and happy, and it seeps into his voice when he speaks, into his eyes when he looks at them, into his hands when he washes jungkook's hair softly, sitting behind him in the hot water and when he lathers namjoon's back gently. it's another sight that could be ridiculous, yoongi thinks, to some people. but maybe they just don't know, haven't known a feeling like this, a tenderness that grows in between your ribs like a garden, flowers the color of spring.


their day ends like that, just like it begun; slow and kind. their voices turn gentle and quiet, like the night, like the rain, they lay in bed bundled up and jungkook shows them silly videos on his phone and they laugh in hushed tones.


yoongi sets his own alarm and namjoon's as well, in case he forgot, like he always does, and leaves his phone under the pillow. he turns and makes himself small against jungkook's side, passing a leg over his thigh and pressing his cheek against his shoulder. he looks over jungkook's chest and sees namjoon already asleep, face down to the bed but an arm across jungkook's middle.


he settles, warm and warm and presses a kiss on jungkook's shoulder, who hums softly. "goodnight, love." yoongi says and hears it back in a whisper. he looks for namjoon's hand on top of jungkook's stomach and places his own on top of it, caressing the skin softly.

yoongi falls asleep just like that, just like he woke up: to the sound of rain, the warmth of his boys on the bed, loved loved loved.