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The world is ending. There is no more to add, no poetry or pretty sound could change the inevitable. The world is dying and the human race with it—someone said it a few years ago and Yoongi still remembers where he was, what he was doing. Nothing at all, if that even matters. He was just sitting in his living room, listening to the radio and hoping to die soon after the umpteenth rejected track. Life had been hard then, because the knowledge of failing and keeping doing that without any expected end could only make him feel afraid all the time. The end of the world looked less terrible, his heart even started beating slower after hearing the announcement. The silence that followed that line was loud, Yoongi remembered hearing some cries but nothing brutal. People kept going on with their lives, acting like the news had lied and the world wasn’t going to die in 2024.
Not Yoongi, though. Yoongi left his apartment and walked and walked until his feet were able to bring him to the only person he has ever loved. Somehow, Taehyung was waiting for him. The latter didn’t even let him call out his name, Taehyung just opened the door while holding a glass full of red wine and asked Yoongi to come in with his cheeks wet. They didn’t cry though, Taehyung didn’t stain his face with more tears, he just painted his lips with more wine until they became scarlet and Yoongi had to kiss them. The world had to die to see them kiss, the end had to come for everyone to let both of them sigh in their mouths and taste what their future would be like.
“Promise me we will face all of this together, like we always did,” Taehyung whispered in the dark of his bedroom with his legs intertwined to Yoongi’s.
“I vow to always stay by your side, to always hold your hand until—” but Taehyung hushed Yoongi with a finger put on his pink mouth.
“Your last breath won’t be heard by me, I will not allow your last breath to be heard by me.”
Yoongi didn’t add anything, he just met Taehyung’s mouth once again and kept kissing him every day without even counting them. Time slowly passed, people almost forgot what was going to happen but Yoongi didn’t. He held Taehyung’s hand when he said his goodbyes to his parents and Taehyung held his hand when the same had to happen with his own. It wasn’t like every conversation revolved around that, it wasn’t like Yoongi eating for the last time his mother’s ramen had a deeper meaning. He ate, sipped the salty soup and drank the bitter liquor with his father without remembering he was doing so for the last time. They just wanted to make amends for their lost time with an easy solution—Taehyung and Yoongi were going to be on their own, they were going to fill what remained of their life only with their own company. It was a tragic decision but one they took with their souls intertwined.
Namjoon shared a similar concept, he put a ring around Jin’s finger and kissed him deeply in front of their broken contract. There was no Bangtan, there was no music, there was no reason to sing if the world was collapsing. Yoongi found a new rhythm in Taehyung’s heartbeat when he was sleeping, he found a new symphony in the way he breathed and giggled when the morning came and Yoongi started to kiss his collarbones, his throat, his jawline, his mouth.
They’re never been happier than this, with the sky falling down and the climate change so quickly. It felt like a paradox, it almost felt right, as if an occasion of living a longer life was given through a sad metaphor. The next summer after the announcement lasted three weeks, then winter came as harsh as never but it only lasted four days—summer returned with its shiny sun and so it went on and on. Taehyung and Yoongi shared thirteen years, thirteen summers and winters pretending to not love each other and in the next two years they had five more winters and ten more summers to remember. Each of them was passed outside the capitol, inside a house Yoongi and Taehyung bought to live together right next to a beach. No one came to interfere with their beatitude and the sand was always cleaned by the soft waves that accompanied their mornings, afternoons and nights.
Taehyung loved to hum to their sound, he loved to sit on the beach and watch the night fall and the moon kiss the water. He also loved to pretend he wanted to stay alone until his hand was found by Yoongi’s and then it was the two of them against the emptiness of the world, of the universe. Sometimes they pretended to be the last human beings, the last two men that with their love would be able to win the apocalypse. Truthfully, they never say it out loud because then their fairytale would be broken and none of them wanted to waste their time like that.
Sometimes Jimin called them, he chirped on the phone to tell them what he was doing. A month ago he was in Africa, his dream was to see every country with his own eyes before no one could anymore. Jungkook was with him, he was always going to be with Jimin and Yoongi knew how that knowledge made Taehyung feel better. Sadly, they didn’t know where Jin and Namjoon chose to go but Hoseok was still in Seoul, still entertaining his audience to make everything bearable.
Once upon a time they used to rule the world and now they were getting ruled by it. Yoongi had been greedy, his ego betrayed him and now he was paying the consequences. When that kind of thought crossed his mind, midnights became his afternoons but Taehyung was still warm by his side and his mouth was still sweet, tender, forgiving.
“I miss all the time we didn’t use for this.” Then Yoongi would say, letting his heart swell and know their end was coming too soon.
“But we used it, we filled our time with poetry, music and love,” Taehyung would trace Yoongi’s shoulders and linger on a mole before putting his mouth on it, “The cheers, the adrenaline, the affection we have gotten and given wasn’t for nothing.”
“I wanted to love you, to kiss you ten years ago.”
“I shared the same sentiment which means we used every single second loving each other. Maybe we didn’t act on it like we are today, but we did somehow anyway. You took care of me, you treated me like I was the most fragile doll you laid your eyes on but you also respected my strength—you made my life worth it.”
“I love you.” Yoongi muttered, feeling Taehyung’s strong arms around his trembling body and enjoying the life they were living in that single instant.
Roses didn’t blossom anymore but Taehyung knew how to draw them, how to use his fingers on the canvas to draw tiny petals full of memories. Yoongi’s body became his favorite paper and wine, his painting. Taehyung drowned his fingers inside the glass and wrote all over Yoongi’s bare back until he could reach his neck and then put the wine on his lips as if it was a creamy lipstick. There were times where he enjoyed just figuring out Yoongi’s weak points, his Achilles’ heel, before actually writing some words and muttering them with his low voice. Yoongi usually shivered at that point, sighing in relief as if not having Taehyung touching him was painful. During these dull moments Taehyung would also dare to confess his feelings, to engrave on Yoongi’s skin how much in love he was—he had always been.
“Do you think we will ever see flowers grow again?” Yoongi would wonder after staring at the flowers Taehyung painted everywhere, even on the surface of the mirror that is reflecting both.
“No, I don’t think we will,” Taehyung was hugging him from behind, softly breathing in Yoongi’s neck and letting the silence envelope them like a coffin, “But it doesn’t pain me because I can see your lips open like a peony, I can see your mouth give me all the colors I need. There is no spring for us anymore but spring is more than the pink colors all around us—spring is us, don’t you agree?”
Yoongi nodded, remembering a time where a song was used to have that word in its title. That song was theirs but it also belonged to everyone. Taehyung took his hand to wake him up from his dark thoughts and spring came back with its fierceness.
“Oh, Yoongi, look outside!” Taehyung suddenly said, breaking their sweet hug and pointing outside. Yoongi followed his love and his tongue became dry.
The sea was calm, its waves were caressing the sand and sharing their favorite sound but something else was happening—flecks of what could've been lights were slowly falling from the sky. Yoongi was starstruck by the vision even though he knew the meaning of that beautiful show. Taehyung shared the same knowledge but he smiled, he smiled sweetly and followed that image barefoot, walking away until he could finally open the main door and go outside. Their separation lasted a few seconds and then Yoongi was with his feet in the sand as well—watching the snow fall on that beach.
Snowflakes were coming down from the sky, turgid and a pale color similar to white. When it used to rain, Yoongi would try to occupy his time like that—watching the drops of water fall on the ground and following the way their color changed, reflecting the city and his own feelings. The snow, on the other hand, couldn’t reflect anything; it couldn’t reconstruct the blue of the sea or that of the sky disturbed by that unexpected atmospheric change. Even if it were possible, Yoongi was convinced that his eyes would focus elsewhere. No snowflakes, raindrops or sunshine could compare to Taehyung's bare body swaying under the firmament that was collapsing on them. Taehyung had managed to make even the end of the world breathtaking.
Yoongi didn't move, he stood still admiring the love of his life. Taehyung moved like a dancer in the snow, spinning around himself, raising his hands in the air in a silly but amusing attempt to touch the miracle with his fingers. It hadn't snowed since the first winter in which the catastrophe was announced but Yoongi ignored that thought, ignored all the implications that event could hold and concentrated on Taehyung's tender laughter, his eyes fixed on the clouds and his cheeks scarlet with excitement. They were maroon.
“Hyung,” Taehyung suddenly yelled, “Yoongi, come to me immediately or I'll have to drag you here.”
A goofy smile painted his lips but Yoongi didn't let him repeat it a second time, his feet moving rapidly among the lumps of sand not wanting to be separated from the only warm body he'd ever wanted. Meanwhile Taehyung had stopped, his shoulders heaving rapidly from the breath lost during his euphoric run but he didn't look tired. Nothing could tire him, nothing that mattered anymore.
“Hyung,” Taehyung sighed deeply. It must have been dawn but there wasn't a star that could contain the light that Taehyung's eyes were releasing as they landed on Yoongi. The latter swallowed as if it were the first time, as if he had returned to being eighteen and Taehyung was the new trainee who spoke little or too much, who had the most interesting questions in his mouth and the most tangible fear in his eyes. His Taehyung who 'his' had been from the beginning and who then grew up so fast, too fast until he was everything Yoongi had ever wanted to be—brave, strong, tenacious. “Hyung, take my hand.”
“Will you invite me to dance?” Yoongi asked, blushing like a teenager. Their features had changed over the years, there were no more soft angles surrounding their faces but Yoongi still managed to glimpse something in Taehyung that old age would never have taken away from him and he was sure that Taehyung was able to glimpse the same in him .
“I will always ask you to dance with me,” Taehyung waved his hand, asking him with his eyes to take it and start the dance.
“And I will always say yes, especially when there is no music to accompany us.” Yoongi finally stretched out his arm and picked up the proposal, intertwining his cold fingers with Taehyung's warm ones and then slowly pushing him towards himself in a pas de deux that no master had ever explained to them. There had been hundreds of choreographies they had to learn, but none of them had known those steps.
“But the music is right here,” Taehyung retorted with a slight pout as their chests brushed.
"You won’t tell me that our song is the sound of crashing waves—"
Taehyung shook his head, giggling like a child as his free hand brushed Yoongi's chest until it reached the place where his heart should reside. “Here, here is our song—here is my music.”
His heartbeat, Yoongi's heartbeat.
“You're impossible,” Yoongi stammered, squeezing Taehyung's hand even tighter and using his other arm to wrap around his waist until their bodies adhered, remembering right there how they were both naked.
Taehyung's tender gasp repressed the tears Yoongi would soon shed.
“You wanting me tonight feels impossible,” Taehyung muttered, mirroring himself in Yoongi's eyes, “Actually, I have to admit that it always seemed impossible to me. Sometimes I watch you sleep at night with the terror of waking up and finding it's all a dream."
“A nightmare,” Yoongi corrected him.
“A dream,” Taehyung said again, holding on to Yoongi's white shirt at the same moment the snowflakes decided to increase. “I spent years, an entire decade hiding the smile that only you could give me—I spent a lifetime looking for you and then pretending I didn't find you. And that's fine, that's fine in our field of pretending, of taking a part but here, now, with you I feel like I have it all. I don't miss anything anymore."
"Me too," Yoongi closed his eyes, bending slightly to hide his face in the hollow of Taehyung's neck and smell his perfume, taste it on his tongue until he could decipher the beat of his blood. “I lived composing and creating different melodies but none were perfect, only you were missing from the symphony of my heart.”
The edges of their skin were joined in a knot that was supposed to have the shape of an embrace but somehow it seemed more carnal, tighter. It was as if Taehyung's hands had gripped inside Yoongi's chest until they took his heart and it was as if Yoongi had leaned on Taehyung's soul. It wasn't cold, the snow wasn't cold, the sand under their feet wasn't cold and the wind coming off the sea felt like a summer caress.
“Dance with me,” Taehyung asked again and Yoongi sighed just before moving, before following footsteps they both knew and had walked a million times inside their apartment humming Debussy or a jazz artist Taehyung will never hear live again .
From the outside it must have been a poetic spectacle and if there was one thing Taehyung and Yoongi were sure to do it would be to romanticize the moment despite the grayness of its sadness. Yet neither of them felt in any way ready to regret anything, not when everything they'd ever wanted was right in their hands, around their arms. Taehyung continued humming to the rhythm of Yoongi's heartbeat and the latter just breathed slowly as if time could ease, as if he was one of those superheroes whose actions could really impact reality—but in the end it was just Yoongi and Taehyung, two men who had sought and found each other.
"It's not snow, is it?" Yoongi wondered as Taehyung's skin disguised voice against his dry mouth.
"No, it almost looks like ash to me," Taehyung confirmed, observing yet another flake resting on them without melting and without releasing the classic cold they both knew well.
The beach around them had turned pale, filled with this strange substance that looked like snow but must have been anything but. Yoongi and Taehyung felt that white layer weighing on their black hair, on their closed eyelashes and even inside their lungs.
“Yoongi?” Taehyung didn't seem affected by that knowledge, "Would you make love to me?"
Two years ago Taehyung had glanced at him sideways and then said the same simple but unforgettable words. During that time, their love had recently undressed and their wrists had tightened in each other's hands in the name of a loyalty and trust they had failed to show to anyone, but Taehyung was burning for the next step and Yoongi had no desire to deny him. Time was no longer on their side and what little remained had to be sacrificed on a worthy altar—Yoongi had chosen Taehyung's legs as the perfect place to kneel before and pray. Someone could have praised that gesture as blasphemous but there was no God who could save them.
“Will you let me take care of you?” Yoongi placed a kiss on Taehyung's throat and the latter couldn't help but swallow.
“Please, I’m begging you to.” Taehyung was shaking. Every time Yoongi touched his body he responded with a note of surprise and comfort that made no sense. Yoongi stunned him and made him feel safe, loved.
“I could never deny you anything,” Yoongi admitted with a smile, raising his head to meet Taehyung's gaze and admire his features that seemed to bloom under that unusual snow. “You take my breath away.”
Taehyung's finger landed delicately on Yoongi's mouth, "Never your breath, and now kiss me."
When Yoongi kissed Taehyung for the first time, his mouth tasted like wine and tears, a taste he would forever associate with his skin. Yoongi would always remember Taehyung's sigh against his lips and the way he clung to him, as if Yoongi himself was his only safe. Neither of them knew how to move, how to give themselves over to that desire they had stifled for a decade but somehow they had managed to find the meaning of all that passion. Things had not changed with time and every kiss, every caress, every shared breath was a gift that left both of them stunned—so when Yoongi kissed Taehyung as snow (or ash) fell on them, even that kiss made Taehyung's bones fragile to the point of forcing him to hold on to Yoongi to keep his balance.
At first it was their clenched mouths, the skins of Taehyung's lips adhering to Yoongi's—and then it was the heat of their tongues, Taehyung's eagerness to reciprocate what had become the most natural and surprising gesture the universe could witness. What was missing was the hesitation of their first kiss, the shyness and fear of making a mistake, but this absence didn't make that last kiss any less heartfelt. Yoongi didn't miss the fear of rejection and he didn't miss not knowing if Taehyung loved him back.
"Yoon—" Taehyung whined as soon as their mouths had to yield to breath, but by now his hands were gripping Yoongi's long hair tightly until it hurt, "I love you, do you know that I love you? Do you know how much I am in love with you?" His glistening eyes were not a sign of sadness but of love, pure and deep love.
“I know, I know,” Yoongi moaned, running behind Taehyung's mouth to kiss him again and again as long as that life would allow. “Now let me show you how much I love you.”
And maybe it wasn't the place or the time to be so happy. Many times over the years Yoongi had believed that this was not the right time or place for him and Taehyung, many times he had held himself back from taking his hand, from kissing away a disagreement, from putting a strand of hair behind Taehyung’s red ears. The world a few years ago didn't seem right for them, but now things were different. Now there was only that strange snow, the warm sand and the waves of the sea.
In another story they would have had their first kiss there, many years ago, when the beard hadn't yet grown on both of their chins and success seemed unattainable. In another story Yoongi would have decided to kiss him in a hidden corner of Itaewon— in another story they would have been two men from other times, two nobles who would have challenged the crown to stay together. In every universe they would find each other somehow.
In this present—it's just Yoongi and Taehyung, in this universe Yoongi is frantically kissing Taehyung.
“Yoongi—“ Taehyung pulled Yoongi towards him, anchoring himself by his neck and bending him in the direction of his mouth as his body followed. “Here, take me here.”
Yoongi smiled against Taehyung's moist lips and then granted him yet another wish, guiding Taehyung's warm hips with his hands towards the sand now covered with a pallor that didn't color Taehyung's breathless cheeks. Seeing him like that continued to amaze Yoongi.
“You're beautiful,” Yoongi whispered, nuzzling Taehyung's who was laughing playfully.
“It's all thanks to you,” but Yoongi denied, shaking his head and kissing Taehyung’s neck, biting into the soft, perfumed skin. Taehyung was naked under his calloused hands, naked and ready to be taken even though Yoongi only wished to give and give until nothing of himself would remain.
That’s the reason why his mouth kept brushing Taehyung’s sensitive skin, that’s the reason why his mouth closed around the brown nipple and sucked—sucked to gain a reaction, to hear Taehyung sing with his moans and prayers.
“Oh, Yoon—” and that whine is enough to make Yoongi hard, to make him notice how wet is Taehyung right where he should be. “I want to feel your touch, I want you everywhere.”
“You have me,” Yoongi said as his hand closed around Taehyung’s length, feeling him hot and heavy. They were both desperate to give each other pleasure but they were also slow, kissing with their mouths wide open while Yoongi was moving his hand all over Taehyung’s cock. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.
Taehyung didn’t even have the time to protest as Yoongi left his lips because right after he felt his man go down on him. Yoongi loved to put his lips around Taehyung, he loved to taste him where he was the most sensitive—he felt like a maid before his chosen god. The end of the world was going to see that, and was going to admire that as much as Yoongi was always going to worship Taehyung’ body and soul.
“You’re my favorite fruit,” Yoongi breathed on Taehyung’s tip, tearing away from his mouth another groan and a small “You’re lying!” but Yoongi wasn’t.
Taehyung was heady and thick, his precome was sweet and Yoongi couldn’t help himself from proving Taehyung wrong by inhaling deeply his essence, burying his nose into the patch of black hair at the base of Taehyung’s cock. “Oh, you must—you must stop, I don’t want to come without you!” Taehyung was inarching his back, fighting his own desires, undecided between pushing Yoongi away or fucking his mouth.
“Does it feel that good?” Yoongi licked his lips, meeting Taehyung’s glassy gaze and enjoying his view. How pretty, how indecent and pretty his boy looked. Yoongi was proud of that image, his chest was filled with warmth and arousal—and love.
“Come here, come here and love me slowly.” Taehyung had the strength to mutter, kissing Yoongi once again and tasting himself on the tongue that made him feel alive. He sobbed between the sweet kisses, feeling Yoongi’s cock on his groin, spreading his legs to give him enough space to let his cock rest between his asscheeks.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Yoongi hummed with his eyes closed, moving his length over his rim and hearing Taehyung gasp everytime the tip seemed to have found his entrance.
“You already stretched me so well this morning, just take me again and again and again,” Taehyung rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulders, raising once again his back to sit on Yoongi’s thin legs. “Can I, my love?”
Yoongi nodded—and Taehyung made himself comfortable on Yoongi’s cock.
Firstly, they both stopped breathing, looking each other in the eyes and then feeling the warmth, the tightness, the knot that would always link them together. It took them seconds before starting moving, it took them a while before remembering they were outside, alone on that beach filled with weird snow that kept falling down in a beautiful way.
“Hyung,” Taehyung moaned, moving his hips and brushing Yoongi’s nose with his own while his eyes were weirdly wandering around, “—oh my god!” Taehyung suddenly cried out as Yoongi started thrusting more deeply.
“What?” Yoongi asked, worried about having hurt Taehyung with his eagerness, “Taehyung?” but Taehyung was looking away, he was looking to their left. “What’s going on?”
And maybe the world was going to fall on their shoulders, and maybe in this universe things worked out in a different way and maybe no time would be enough for them but somewhere between the snow and the sand something else was happening.
“Hyung,” Taehyung whispered again and Yoongi could do nothing but follow his gaze, missing a heartbeat right when he understood why Taehyung had been so shocked. “Is it real?”
A flower was blooming—the first after the catastrophe.