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ugh-yoongi · 11 months

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the retreat | jhs

(or, the one where namjoon just wants hoseok to take care of himself, but then there's a fake relationship, only one bed, a guy who doesn't talk, and maybe a weird cult.)

✤ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ✤ genre: childhood bf2l, fake dating-ish au; crack, fluff, smut ✤ rating: explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ warnings: there is a lot of talk about food and eating in here, so i would not suggest reading this if you are sensitive to those kinds of triggers. tropes galore! side taegi. 5th muster jimin from that one vcr. hobi is pansexual and i do not wanna hear from the weirdos during pride month, or ever. he is a millionaire tho so he's not off the hook. a slight astrological dragging. a strained mother-daughter relationship. the smut is not super explicit or detailed but warnings are as follows: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), biting, hair pulling, hobi may or may not rip a pair of underwear, fingering, protected vaginal sex. a brief but canonical breaking-the-fourth-wall appearance by park bogum. beta'd by me, so any mistakes are my own. ✤ wordcount: 19.6k ✤ thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, as always, for the encouragement and reading every draft of this. @hot-soop for both the astrological advice and advice in general. @effortandmore for reading this over recently and telling me it was worth finishing. i would get absolutely nothing done without the three of you. ✤ author's note: i was supposed to have this posted for jess's birthday two years ago. we're not gonna talk about that, because this just means i'm a month early for this year. happy early birthday, jess! anyway~ this is basically a 20k love letter to jung hoseok bc i miss him. i hope you enjoy it.

Jung Hoseok is overworked.

(He’s also filthy rich, the proud owner of not one but two Lamborghinis [that he doesn’t even drive], and smiling on the cover of Forbes. He has a top floor penthouse in the most expensive high-rise in the city and a vacation home along the Italian coast. When he needs to go on a business trip, his driver takes him straight to the tarmac where he boards a private plane. His tailor just sends him clothes now, the cost of dressing Jung Hoseok far outweighed by the dozens of other filthy rich men who flock to his store to buy whatever he’s wearing.)

Jung Hoseok is also going to have a stroke and die before the age of 30, because what’s a little money at the expense of his mental well-being and cardiac health?

“All things considered, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go out,” he argues, clammy palms flat on his expensive desk. Rosewood, because not only is he a millionaire, he’s a millionaire with taste. None of that monochromatic minimalist bullshit for him, thank you.

In front of him, Kim Namjoon also looks to be on the verge of a stroke. Not of the same variety. Namjoon is paid well because he works for Hoseok and Hoseok insists on it. None of that heartless, dickhead-to-everyone, impossible-to-work-for CEO reputation for him, either, thank you.

Namjoon is also a militant vegan and has twenty-six plants and one bonsai on his desk named Bonnie. He insists on spending his lunch breaks in Hoseok’s office, lecturing him on the benefits of plant-based diets and exercise and meditation. Despite his perpetual smile and sunny demeanor, no one else speaks to Hoseok this way, but Namjoon does. Absolutely doesn’t give a shit.

“It absolutely would be the worst way to go out. Have you even been listening to me?”

Hoseok sighs and closes the symptoms of a stroke tab in his browser. “I always listen to you, Namjoon, I just don’t always listen.” A smart choice, too, judging by the swamp-colored sludge Namjoon has in a glass container, because he doesn’t use plastics.

Following his boss’s line of sight, Namjoon frowns. “It’s a pitaya bowl. Don’t look at it like that.”

“It looks radioactive,” Hoseok says, face contorted in a wince. “Like it’s going to become sentient and sprout six arms.”

Namjoon scoffs. “If it does, I hope it uses all six of them to slap the shit out of you.”

“I could pay it to spare me,” Hoseok insists, chin jutting out indignantly.

One of the reasons Hoseok had all but demanded HR hire Namjoon—despite there being a plethora of other candidates who were just as qualified and nowhere near as hell-bent on him taking care of himself—was his grit and determination. He’d showed up two hours early to his interview and steamed his suit jacket in the employee bathroom. It was completely insane and even more neurotic, but Hoseok had been taken with him immediately.

Now, it seems that determination and hard-headed nature is coming back to bite Hoseok in the ass.

“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna pay your blood to not get cut off from your brain and your heart, too? Well, good for you, Hobi. I heard blood has even started taking American Express. You’re in luck—”

Unable to take anymore, Hoseok groans and waves his arms to cut him off. “Okay, I get it! God, why did I hire you? Your desk alone has to be violating at least fourteen different health codes. Your office is humid. Do you know how impossible that is to achieve outside of a greenhouse?”

“You hired me because I’m good at my job and I’m not afraid of you, so I have no issue slapping your fourth double bacon cheeseburger of the day out of your greasy, on-the-brink-of-dying hands. Christ, you act like it’d actually kill you to eat a vegetable for once.”

Hoseok squawks. “Hey! That definitely didn’t come up in the interview, and I have never eaten four cheeseburgers in a day. Stop being hyperbolic.”

“Speaking of things that start with hyper- and have a Bin them, hyperbaric therapy is great for people with infections from oxygen-starved tissue—”

“Is this what you do all day? You just sit on the internet and search for diseases I could potentially die from and then you come in here and harass me about them?”

Namjoon’s face, which had previously been scrunched up in righteous indignation, smooths over into something far more serious. (He doesn’t even have wrinkles. Namjoon’s skincare routine must be immaculate.)“Someone has a stroke every forty seconds in this country, Hoseok. I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Well, okay. Every forty seconds is far more often than Hoseok had been expecting. Not that he thinks about stroke statistics often, and definitely not outside of Namjoon’s overbearing presence—but, in his defense, it’s not like he’s had much of a reason. He gets a physical and routine blood work done every year and his doctor has never rung any alarm bells, so why would he?

But the resolution with which Namjoon is hammering away at this is definitely giving him pause.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, either. “See, you are concerned! Look, you’re far more likely to stick with something if you don’t overwhelm yourself, so let’s start small, okay? One salad per day. And a real salad, Hoseok—not one of those ones loaded with cheese and bacon and drenched in ranch dressing.”

Hoseok’s jaw snaps closed. “Then what’s the point of eating a salad?”

“To prevent you from dying before your thirtieth birthday. We’ve already established this.”

“Okay,” Hoseok drawls, “but it’s not the salad’s fault if that happens. You shouldn’t take it out on him.”

Namjoon gags. “Leave it to me to work for a man who thinks salads are male.” He casts his gaze skyward. “Please, Lord, if you’re listening, please put me out—”

“Please put me out of my misery first,” Hoseok interjects, also staring at the ceiling. Then, with a leveled glare, he says to Namjoon, “Fine. State your terms.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, having the audacity to look shocked.

“Yeah, if it’ll get you off my back. I can’t spend one more lunch break in here with you.”

Namjoon smiles. Nothing friendly, either—it’s purely sinister and mocking. Then he says, “Great success!” in a horrible impersonation of Borat and the moment’s gone, lost to the stagnant air conditioning of Hoseok’s office.

Unsurprisingly, Namjoon’s terms include a lot of vegetables.

Hoseok has a private chef, of course, so it’s not like he has to really do much other than smile through the pain. But, really, would it actually kill him to be allowed a steak or some lamb skewers? What had started off as salads for lunch has turned into a full-blown war between the two of them. Hoseok had shown up with cheese and bacon on his salad one time and Namjoon nearly went off the rails, performing a very enthusiastic speech about how Hoseok cannot be trusted when left to his own devices, so here they are.

Namjoon’s trying his hardest to crack Hoseok, and Hoseok wouldn’t have become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company by the age of twenty-eight if he were so easily cracked.

So, yeah, here they are. Locked in a stalemate like two idiot deer with their antlers tangled together, except instead of feuding over territory or a mate, they’re ready to spear one another over vegetables.

Darwin would have a lot to say about this.

On Friday, at exactly one-o’clock on the dot, Namjoon barges into Hoseok’s office and slaps a stapled-together pile of papers onto his desk. “New terms.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Hoseok replies airily. “I’m not much of a Dua Lipa fan.”

“Wha—that’s ‘New Rules.’”

“Is it?” Hoseok’s smiling, eyebrows raised in that way that makes him look super charming and innocent.

Namjoon isn’t fooled, though. “Cut it out. I saw you eating ribs under your desk the other day. You owe me this.”

Not much shocks Hoseok, but being outed like this so brazenly sure does. “How did you know about that?”

“Uh, did you forget your office walls are made out of glass?” Namjoon twirls a finger in a circle, as if to say look at your four glass walls, you fucking idiot. Isn’t it great to be rich and have no privacy? “Not to mention you had a glob of barbeque sauce on your shirt that I could smell from a mile away.”

“I could’ve put it on my salad,” Hoseok reasons.

“Oh, please.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Six ribs and a side of potato salad does not a salad make.”

“What do you mean? It’s literally called potato salad, isn’t it? God, you’re uptight.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath, most likely reciting meditation mantras in his head while he thinks about his plants. “I didn’t come in here for this,” he eventually says, and Hoseok is honestly impressed at how collected he sounds. “The point is you can’t be trusted, so there’s new terms.”

Grabbing the stack of papers, Hoseok flips through them casually. “And if I don’t agree? Don’t forget I’m your boss.”

“If you don’t agree, I’m posting the security footage of you eating those ribs on Twitter.” Hoseok’s looking positively scandalized now. He wouldn’t. Namjoon wouldn’t do that to him. “Honestly, Hoseok. You should be ashamed of yourself. You looked like that video of that oversized baby covered in peanut butter.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Hoseok asks, eyes narrowed. “Seriously, who are you? Because the man standing across from me is not my sweet baby Namjoon. Sweet, sweet Namjoon, who always checks the toilet bowl before he uses it because he saw one of those videos from Australia of a snake being in there and he’d feel too guilty to even piss on a snake—”

Namjoon plants his palms on Hoseok’s desk and puffs out his chest a little. It’s a great chest, Hoseok must admit. Namjoon had mentioned in passing he’d started going to the gym, so he’s not—“I’m not afraid of you,” Namjoon reminds him. “Try me.”

“I have thirty-two lawyers.”

All Namjoon does is quirk an eyebrow. “I have thirty-thousand Twitter followers.”

“I can fire you.”

“Please do. Capitalism is a scourge on this earth and I no longer wish to participate in it.”

“I can fire you and make sure you never find employment in this city ever again.”

Namjoon shrugs. “Fine by me. I’ve been thinking about moving out of the city, anyway. Too much air pollution and I have no space to garden.”

Two things become clear very quickly: 1. Namjoon is far more cut-throat than Hoseok ever anticipated him being; and 2. Hoseok is woefully underprepared for this particular battle. No matter. He’s business-savvy. There’s no shame in conceding an unwinnable battle if he can still win the war, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Fine,” he relents after an awkward staring contest that lasts two minutes too long. “What are your new terms, then?”

“You have to go to a wellness retreat.”

Hoseok can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of his mouth. “Sorry, did you say a retreat? How is that a punishment?”

“It isn’t,” Namjoon says. “It’s meant to reset your body and mind. No phones allowed. Just you and your partner in the refreshing, reinvigorating air of the rainfor—”

“What was that?” Hoseok interjects.

“What, the rainforest part? Don’t worry, it’s safe. You’re not, like, sleeping outside with tarantulas and shi—”

“No, not that. Me and my who?”

“Oh!” Namjoon grins. “Your partner. See, I did a lot of research and found the absolute best and most effective wellness retreat for people of your… uh, standard. And the man who runs this retreat is incredible. Like, world-renowned. But the catch is it’s a couple’s retreat, so you’ll have to find someone to play pretend with you for a month.”

Hoseok is a great businessman. He’s good at negotiations and managing relationships and making smart, anticipatory decisions. He has the bank account and name plate with accompanying title on his desk to prove it. But, as he takes in Namjoon’s words, the only thing his brain can come up with is the Windows shutdown sound and a glaring blue screen alerting him to danger.

Nevertheless, one of Hoseok’s rules for business is to never let the opposition see him frazzled. “Why don’t you just come with me?” he offers casually, his tone completely at odds with the pained, panicked expression on his face.

“Two reasons,” Namjoon says quickly and without hesitation, as if he expected this and had all the time in the world to prepare a rebuttal. “First, you couldn’t pay me enough to act like we’re a couple. No offense, but you’re kind of insufferable and I would never date a carnivore—”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Wow. Some offense taken.”

“—Second, someone has to stay behind and hold down the fort if you’re going to be gone for a month.”

“Why can’t Brad do it?” Hoseok asks. This time his strained tone completely gives him away.

“You don’t trust Brad.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow. “I never said that.”

“You absolutely did say that,” Namjoon responds immediately, pulling out his phone. “On April nineteenth at approximately ten-twenty in the morning, you said, and I quote, ‘Namjoon, why do you think I hired you? If I had to suffer through having one more Ivy League white guy who played lacrosse and got grandfathered into a fraternity as my assistant, I was going to throw myself down this elevator shaft.’ To which I replied, ‘Oh, you don’t like Brad?’ And you said, ‘Brad’s fine, I guess. I just don’t trust him.’ So, I asked you why, and you said, ‘I wouldn’t trust Brad to order a box of staples, let alone to know the difference between tteokbokki and hotteok—’”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say at all,” Hoseok lies. It absolutely sounds like something he’d say at ten-twenty in the morning on the nineteenth of April. “Also, did you really make a note of that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Namjoon fires back. “I obviously took a voice recording of it first and transcribed it later. Sometimes I listen to it on repeat when I really want to strangle you and it calms me, because it serves as a reminder that if I go to prison for attempted murder, Brad will take my job. And we can’t have that, because you might simply distrust Brad, but I fucking hate him.”

Hoseok gapes a little. “We sure can’t,” he agrees. Tense air settles between the two of them as they both wait for the other to make the first move. Namjoon’s patient, having already played his hand knowing Hoseok has nothing to trump him, but Hoseok’s stubborn. He’ll drag this out as long as humanly possible. He’ll be ninety years old, on his fourth heart transplant, and still waiting to go on this trip. He’ll—

He’ll have to step down as CEO, because he has, once again, severely underestimated Kim Namjoon.

“Stop thinking so hard. It’s already booked and paid for.”

“With whose money?”

“Company card.”

“Which has my name on it. I’ll just cancel it.”

“It’s non-refundable, but go ahead. You’re still out all that money, though, so you might as well go.”

“I can’t just take a month off,” Hoseok says. He’s grasping at straws now. No one would dare tell him no, even if he wanted to take the next six years off. Human Resources would simply say of course, sir, have a great vacation, sir, see you in six years, sir, and off he’d go.

“Sure you can.” Namjoon stands, wipes his hands on the dress pants stretched to their limit across his thighs, and looks entirely too smug. “Better start looking for a date. Maybe you’ll have some luck on Tinder.”

Bile rises in Hoseok’s throat. “Tinder? Are you joking? I’m too rich to go on there. What if I find a nice date, take them home, and wake up in a bathtub full of ice because they found out who I was and decided to sell my organs?”

“No one would want them,” Namjoon deadpans. “I see the absolute filth you funnel into that body of yours and I can say, with one-hundred percent certainty, that your organs are worthless. Mine, on the other hand. Pristine—”

“Get the hell out of my office. I can’t even look at you right now.”

Good thing, too, because Namjoon’s still wearing that stupid little smirk. The really smug one that infuriates Hoseok to no end because it brings out his dimples, makes him look innocent and cute even though he’s not. The one that gloats Namjoon’s victory, like he’d known all along it was going to end this way. He’d hid those cards so far up his sleeve, Hoseok’s surprised they hadn’t started sprouting from his ears. God, he’s really insufferable. Makes Hoseok’s blood pressure spike something fierce.

“Did you ever stop to consider you’re the problem?” Hoseok calls to Namjoon’s retreating frame. When had he gotten so broad? “That maybe, if my heart does give out, it’ll be because I have to deal with you, the most stressful person on earth?”

“Nah, it’ll definitely be because two of your desk drawers are full of those disgusting oatmeal creme pies.” Somehow, Namjoon looks even more smug as Hoseok tries to discreetly glance at the aforementioned drawers. How does he find out all these things? “Anyway, you leave in two weeks! Good luck in your search. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, sir.”

Just as he’d assumed would be the case, Hoseok has no luck on Tinder.

See, he’d fucked up from the beginning, deciding to be honest and truthful and explain his plight to any sympathetic pair of eyes that may have gazed upon it. He’d also decided to use his real name, and anyone familiar with those List of Billionaires We Should Eat listicles had snuffed him out immediately. Long gone were the days of genuine conversation and playful flirting. Now, Hoseok’s inbox is full of more genitalia than he’s ever seen in his life. He’s literally drowning in it and can’t even take time to appreciate the situation in which he’s accidentally found himself.

He’s absolutely going to kill Kim Namjoon once this is all over.

After getting over the embarrassment of the next day’s MULTIMILLIONAIRE CEO JUNG HOSEOK SPOTTED ON TINDERheadline, because he hadn’t even had the good sense to use Raya, Hoseok resigns himself to scrolling through the contacts list in his phone. He’s not desperate or stupid enough to invite his ex, or any of the myriad of names he can’t put to faces because, despite what Namjoon says, he’s still concerned about his organs, so he also resigns himself to calling you.

His best friend.

Who’s going to spend the rest of her life roasting him over this.

“What a pleasant surprise,” you greet him. “Haven’t heard from you in weeks. Let me guess, you need me to make another burner account and explain to Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter why they shouldn’t eat you?”

“No—”

You tsk. “That’s a shame. I think I missed my calling in life.”

“Being a Twitter troll?”

“Yeah, obviously,” you agree. “Do you remember that time I set up the fake Gofundme to pay for my conservative cousin’s cephalanalectomy surgery because the liberal snowflake surgeon refused to perform it and he was going to die if they literally did not remove his head from his ass? That was fucking gold, Hobi. I’m a natural.”

“You’re definitely something,” he acquiesces. Then he has an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help me troll Namjoon?”

Your silence is deafening. “Uh, that depends.” Oh, Hoseok does not like your hesitation at all. “He has, like, a lot of Twitter followers, so I’m not trying to beef with him publicly, even if it is on a burner account.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afr—what the fuck kind of Twitter following does this guy have?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” you say, voice laced with faux-concern. “I like Namjoon and I’d like him to remain employed by you simply so he can annoy the absolute fuck out of you until the day you either retire or die. So, yeah, let’s keep that between him and I.”

Hoseok feels dizzy. Probably because he’s been eating all these goddamn salads and now he’s nutritionally deficient. “Whatever. I do actually need your help with something, though.”

“You know my rates.”

“Why do I have to pay to hang out with you?” Hoseok whines. “Isn’t my life-long friendship enough?”

You snort. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why is everyone bullying me lately? Can’t you spare a crumb of empathy for your best friend?”

“Empathy machine broke,” you deadpan. “Come on, ask me what my terms are. I already know what I want this time.”

Hoseok sighs. He wouldn’t relent this quickly for anyone else. He has a reputation to uphold, after all. “Fine. What are your—”

“I want a Birkin bag and dinner from that new Brazilian place by your office.”

“That’s a definite no on the bag,” Hoseok says. “I’m not spending that much money on anyone who isn’t my future spouse. We can have dinner, though.”

“I think you misheard me, sunshine. I said I want to go to dinner there. I’m going to gorge myself on expensive all-you-can-eat meats and I do not want to taint my experience watching you shovel a miserable, wilted salad into that pretty little heart-shaped mouth of yours. I’ll get agita.”

“Agi—I can’t believe this,” Hoseok whines, feeling the apples of his cheeks tinge red. “Have you and Namjoon been getting together to conspire against me? Is that why the two of you are bullying me?”

Hoseok expects you to say no. He expects you to say that you and Namjoon don’t even speak, you’d only met him once at that Christmas party a year ago, during which Namjoon spent the entire time waxing poetic about conifers and that time he dropped acid at Yosemite and cried for a week straight. But no. No, you don’t say anything at all, and if Hoseok was feeling bullied and just a little scandalized before, he’s absolutely feeling tortured now.

Namjoon, on his own, is bad.

You, on your own, are worse.

The two of you, together? No. Hoseok simply can’t—and won’t—allow it.

You suck in a breath. “In my defense—”

“You absolute traitor,” Hoseok seethes. “You, of all people, have betrayed me?”

There’s a tiny gasp on the other end of the line. “Oh, come off it, Hobi!” you snap. “Have you ever seen yourself eat? It’s foul. Like something straight out of Animal Planet.”

“It is not!”

“It is, and you know it,” you fire back. “I once watched you eat an entire personal-sized pizza in forty-two seconds. I don’t even think you chewed it. You just detached your jaw like some kind of creepy snake and inhaled. Something needed to be done.”

It’s Hoseok’s turn to gasp. “And that something was going full Judas Iscariot and selling me out to the Romans for thirty pieces of silver?”

There’s a pause on your end. “Is Namjoon the Romans in this scenario? Because, if so, I’ve got to say—”

“Who cares!” Hoseok snaps. “Who fucking cares who the Romans are—”

“The Romans, probably,” you chime in unhelpfully.

“—because the two of you have officially given me agita. How’s that? Huh? First I have to sit through all of Namjoon’s lunch lectures—”

“He should trademark that. Has a nice ring to it. Namjoon’s Lunch Lectures.”

“—then, I had to start eating salads. Salads. Then he signs me up for some stupid wellness retreat in the goddamn rainforest and tells me I have to find a fucking date, so off I go to Tinder, but everyone on there only wanted me for my harvestable organs, so I was like, ‘You know what, Hoseok? You know who you can always count on? Your best friend of twenty years. She’s never let you down. She’ll go with you, and the two of you will have a good time, because she’s your best friend and you enjoy her company.’ But no, come to find out—”

There’s a very loud shriek of laughter. “Oh my god. Holy shit, Hobi, is that really why you called? Namjoon actually signed you up for that couple’s retreat?”

Now, there’s a very loud shriek of disbelief. “You fucking knew about that?” You try to contain your snort. Really, you do, but it’s no match for Hoseok’s palpable ire. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, come on! It’ll be good for you, sunshine. You’re clearly overworked. You had visible stress lines in the last selfie you posted on Instagram.”

“I did not, I use hyaluronic acid!” he insists, but if Hoseok swipes out of your call to pull up his Instagram account, no one has to know.

You groan. “Why do you keep arguing with me? I’m never wrong.”

“Yes you are.” There’s a very pointed pause during which Hoseok can very clearly, in his head, hear you say see?

“Listen,” you say, voice strong with all the conviction of a person who hadn’t spent the last five minutes being a menace to society—and Hoseok. “I’ll go with you. I have some time off from my program and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend a whole month in the rainforest with you.”

“I feel like that was sarcastic.”

You tut. “Honestly, Hobi, it’s like you don’t even know me at all. You know number three on my bucket list is going to Costa Rica to hang out with sloths.”

His phone pings a second later with a text from you. An article about a sloth sanctuary greets him, and he swallows the immediate ew that’s on the tip of his tongue. Sloths are cute, sure, but they also have bugs. “Great,” he chokes out. “Are you gonna meet a sloth and turn into Kristen Bell? Because I’m not signing up for that. You look like Kim Kardashian when you cry.”

“Fuck you.” Hoseok is a millionaire, he doesn’t deserve this treatment. “Now, what are your plans for tomorrow night? Let’s do dinner. We need to take a bunch of selfies during sunsets so we look like a plausible couple.”

When he was eight and you were seven, Hoseok witnessed his first act of violence.

A kid on the school bus had been giving him a hard time. Nothing totally awful, just being a bit of a dick the way kids are wont to do, and Hoseok was a pushover back then. Just wanted everyone to like him so he never really stuck up for himself. Just smiled and laughed off the teasing and cried about it later.

Apparently this was unacceptable to you.

You tossed your bookbag in Hoseok’s lap, pushed up your sleeves, made your way to the back of the bus, and told that kid you’d slam his head into the window if he didn’t stop picking on Hoseok.

He’d gotten his head slammed into the window approximately fourteen seconds later.

(Never messed with Hoseok again, though.)

Since then, the two of you have been nearly inseparable. Sure, there had been petty arguments here and there, and Hoseok had gone to an Ivy League across the country, but it was rare for the two of you to go more than a few days without talking. Even now, when Hoseok works eighty hour weeks and is busy being a Very Important Person, he still makes time for you. Sometimes that time is just exchanging stupid memes over text, but he always makes the effort.

Which is why, even though you don’t see the point in crafting some elaborate backstory and had only said the thing about the sunset selfies to con him into coming over, he stays quiet and shows up to your apartment for dinner and worldbuilding anyway, because it’s been too long since he’s last been here and he misses you.

“Are you taking notes?” Hoseok asks, pointing at you with his fork. “This is important.”

You groan into your wine glass. “Fake dating is so hard,” you whine. “Why can’t we just tell the truth?”

He levels you with a stare. “Because! Don’t you think it’s a bit…”

“What, you think it’s totally unbelievable that I could be in love with you?”

Oh. Hoseok doesn’t like this at all, either. Doesn’t like the way the words sound in your mouth. Doesn’t like the way his stomach drops as he digests them. Doesn’t like how nice they sound, like you’d just waded through all the extracurricular bullshit to get straight to the point and arrive at the inevitable conclusion, which is the two of you riding off together into that sunset you’d mentioned before.

He doesn’t like feeling like he might want that.

It’s not like he’s never thought about it. You’re his best friend and he has 20/20 vision, so of course he has. It's always just been one of those things: didn’t want to ruin your friendship, moved across the country, got too busy, didn’t think you’d want him like that in return.

“I—no,” he says unconvincingly. “I just… it’d totally be weird, right? Us pretending to be a couple?” He throws in a chuckle for good measure, as if the thought of dating you is so preposterous it simply has to be a joke.

You just shrug. Where Hoseok is all nervous jitters, you’re solid and unshaken, always. “Not really. We’ve been friends forever. We’re obviously comfortable with each other. You showing up to my place in those disgusting crochet shoes is proof enough of that.”

Hoseok looks down at his feet and frowns. “They’re Valentino.”

“More like Valenti-no.”

He rolls his eyes. “See, that right there is why we can’t wing this. I can’t pretend to like your awful jokes. I’ll out myself immediately.”

You roll yours right back. “Nah, I think it works. You’re obviously the high-strung CEO who doesn’t appreciate good humor when he sees it and I’m the sad housewife who just wants you to laugh at my jokes.” You jut out your bottom lip and pretend to cry. “Why won’t you just laugh at my jokes, Hobi?”

He flicks a green bean at you. “How’d we go from fake dating to fake marriage? Stop trying to swindle me.”

Once again, you pout dramatically. “God, first you refuse to laugh at my jokes, now you refuse to marry me? You’re breaking my heart here.”

“I’m not buying you a ring,” Hoseok scoffs. “I know for a fact you’ll just turn around and sell it for triple the price to some poor, unsuspecting bastard.”

“Not my fault there’s a lot of poor, unsuspecting bastards in the world. All of this just proves, for the billionth time, that I’m the better businessperson between the two of us.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Hoseok sighs. “Just because your lemonade stand outsold mine once doesn’t mean—”

“I also outsold you during that candle fundraiser in the fifth grade. And the candybars during Little League. And that bullshit one in high school with the pineapple pizzas—”

“Fine!” Hoseok throws his hands up. Then, with as little of a grimace as he can muster, he says, “Let’s go to Costa Rica, Mrs. Jung.”

It doesn’t land.

Your jaw drops immediately, an exaggerated gag spilling from your lips. “I changed my mind,” you deadpan. “No marriage for us unless you take my last name.”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“Feels bad in my mouth. What’s wrong with mine?”

Hoseok rolls his lips together. “Nothing, really. Just—”

“Is this some kind of male pride thing? You refuse to take your wife’s last name for fear of public ridicule and castration jokes?”

“No.” Hoseok glares at you. “It’s just—the reservation’s in my name. Besides, if someone made shitty jokes about you, I’d slam their head into a window, too.”

“Oh.” As soon as your jaw snaps shut, a brilliant smile splits your face. “That was unexpectedly wholesome, Seok. You’re getting soft in your old age.”

Only for you, he wants to say. Instead, he shoves another forkful of rice in his mouth and a copy of the itinerary in your direction.

(For all your bravado and willingness to slam the heads of elementary school bullies into windows, you hate flying. So, if you squeeze Hoseok’s hand too tight and he snaps a photo of it under the guise of how comically purple-red it’s turning, and not at all because it’s the first time you’re holding his hand and some weird, sentimental part of him wants to commemorate it, that’s his business.

If his heart is so full it nearly bursts out of his chest at the sight of you crying over a sloth, and if he memorizes the stars in your eyes as you hold one—not caring about the bugs or the giant claws or the fact that sloth fur kind of looks like a bird nest, algae included—that’s his business.

If he posts the photo of you crying to his Instagram, knowing damn well you’re going to yell at him for it later, and he cackles wildly over Namjoon’s comment:

[namjooning commented: why does she cry like that kim kardashian meme? junghoseok replied: Right? That’s what I said]

—that’s his business. It’s only because he’d said you look like Kim Kardashian when you cry and, if nothing else, Hoseok loves to be proven right. It has nothing to do with wanting to remember you that happy forever. Not at all.

If he feels like he’s going into cardiac arrest when you hug him tightly, murmuring a quiet thank you in his ear on the last night of your stay at the sanctuary, it’s simply because you’re not very tactile. Hugs—and outward affection—from you are rare. That’s all. His skin absolutely does not break out in goosebumps. Doesn’t feel tingly all over. His breathing continues as normal.

If he finally comes to the startling realization that he’s in way too deep when you fall asleep on his shoulder during the drive to the resort, well…

Hoseok may be deadly smart, but he’s always been a complete fool when it comes to you.

If he sends a panicked text to Namjoon asking how he’s supposed to survive the next month, and if Namjoon misinterprets it as an ambitious, live-to-work type-A personality freaking out over not knowing how to unwind and tells him to just take it easy, and Hoseok misinterprets that as go for it, well…

The next four weeks sure are going to be interesting, aren’t they?)

See, the thing about Hoseok is he has all the money and prestige a man of his status could want.

He’s filthy rich, he’s well-respected, he’s kind. People love him. He loves people in return. He’s been called the living embodiment of actual sunshine more times than you or he could possibly count. There’s truly nothing he wants for in this world.

Hoseok is also the type of person who gets anxious at the thought of calling the Malaysian restaurant you two frequent to place a delivery order. Namjoon has to force him to make his own personal appointments under threat of death. He changed doctors because his new one lets him schedule appointments online. He won’t go to a fast food drive-thru unless they have mobile ordering.

It’s just the way Hoseok is. He’s been that way as long as you’ve known him—at least since that time in the fifth grade when his mother once gave him twenty bucks and told him to call the pizza place and order dinner for the two of you and he totally balked, resigning the two of you to toaster oven Ellio’s that tasted way too similar to skating rink pizza to be a coincidence.

Which is why he balks again as soon as the two of you reach the front desk of the resort, shoving you in front of him to talk to the man behind it.

Maybe it’s the raging pansexual inside Hobi rather than his uncharacteristic fear of talking to literally anyone, but you totally get it. You don’t really want to talk to this man, either. He’s ash blond and bathed in golden light, highlighting his already golden skin to look completely ethereal, and he’s got a smug look on his face that tells you he knows exactly how intimidatingly good-looking he is.

Still, you’re not easily shaken. Jung Hoseok is your best friend—and fake boyfriend, lest you’ve forgotten—for fuck’s sake. You’ve committed violence for him. Golden Desk Boy is going to have to try a whole lot harder than this. “Hiii,” you say, lips painted in a saccharine smile. God, you’re so fake. “We’re checking in under Jung.”

The man—whose name badge says Jimin—returns your fake smile. “Great! Thank you so much for joining us for your stay.”

You take a moment to look around while Jimin pulls up your reservation, purposefully skipping over Hoseok’s form. He’s not doing anything, just sitting in a plush armchair as he pretends to read the newspaper, but you feel the flames of annoyance licking at your heels nonetheless, because you wouldn’t be here to begin with if it weren’t for Hoseok and his subordinate micromanager, and what kind of weird place has he brought you to?

Everything is white. Not in the sterile kind of way, because the monotony is broken up with lush greenery and the occasional piece of teak furniture, but there’s enough white for you to wonder if it’s some sort of statement. The floors and walls are white. All the non-wooden furniture is white. Jimin’s silk uniform and teeth are both blindingly white. Not that you’d seen many people since you stepped into the lobby, but the ones you had seen had been wearing white, too.

Jimin looks up from the computer screen and you’re almost surprised to find his irises aren’t white, too. Maybe it’s rude, but he seriously gives you the creeps. “Everything is ready for your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Jung. I’ve requested someone come to retrieve your luggage.”

You gawk. “Oh, we’re not—we’re not married.”

“Oh?” Jimin asks, one perfect eyebrow arched as his eyes twinkle with intrigue.

“Yeah,” you insist. “Not that I need to explain my morals and ethics to a stranger, but I don’t believe in the patriarchy.”

“Really? That’s great,” Jimin lies. This man is overflowing with shithead energy. “Neither do I.”

You scoff. “Oh, sure. That’s why you just assumed my bes—my partner and I were married.”

“That’s what the reservation says.” He looks very amused now. Kim Namjoon is going to receive a very lengthy text message in approximately ten minutes. “I do apologize for this mistake. I’ll make sure to correct it right away.” Amusement slowly morphs into a challenge. “Is there a new last name I can put on the reservation for you instead?”

Call it a hunch, but you think it best to not give this person any of your identifying information. “No.”

“Shall I leave it as Jung, then?”

It physically pains you to say this, but you manage to choke out a very strained, “Yes.”

“Fantastic,” Jimin sing-songs. “I’m very glad we were able to sort out this issue for you, Mr. and Mrs. Jung.”

Choke on a dick and die is what you want to say (for no reason, really; it isn’t like Jimin’s been outright cruel to you), but as much as Hoseok avoids people—and avoids confrontation even more—he appears at your side, looking every bit the sunshine after a storm he always is. “Everything okay?” he asks, placing a gentle hand at the small of your back. “…Dear,” he tacks on as Jimin’s eyes study the two of you.

“Everything’s great!” you chirp, determined to cast away Jimin’s obvious suspicions. “Jimin here says someone’s coming to get our bags.” Another fake, saccharine smile. Like sweet’n low. “He’s been very helpful.”

Everything’s great, in you-speak, translates to I once, foolishly, thought Kim Namjoon was on my side. I now see the errors of my ways and I demand justice and revenge. Fool you once (getting roped into being Hoseok’s fake partner to come to a weird wellness retreat), shame on Namjoon. Fool you twice (allowing him to book the reservation and label you a married couple), shame on you. There won’t be a third time, because Kim Namjoon’s days are numbered once you’re both in the same country again.

“Will you be needing a tour?” Jimin asks, voice tinkling like expensive crystal.

You grasp Hoseok’s hand far too tight to be believable and wave off the receptionist. “No, thank you! Just a map will do. That’s how we met, you know—at a… map… class.”

“A map class?” Jimin parrots. “Riveting.” He smiles. Sweet’n low.

“It sure was!” You turn to Hobi. “Wasn’t it? …Babe,” you choke out. The word tastes so gross on your tongue.

When you look up at him, Hoseok’s wearing that trademark expression of his: the one where his eyes are too wide, tight-lipped smile stretched too thin. Hoseok’s convinced it’s convincing. It isn’t. It’s terrifying and makes your skin feel itchy from the inside. “Mmm, yep,” he agrees easily. “Love a good map. Some good… cartography.” He pinches three fingers together because he’d seen it on The Sopranos and it’s just a thing he does now.

Sometimes you forget Hoseok is rich-rich.

Of course Namjoon had mentioned booking the trip on the company card and of course you know what someone like him having access to a company card implies. It’d implied you were going on an all-expenses-paid trip on some massive company’s dime. But, perhaps naively, you’d just envisioned a fancy hotel room at some resort near a beach. Shoreline bonfires, tiny portions of food on massive plates when you order room service, colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas and a skewer of fruit stuck inside, three-digit price tag.

Instead, the two of you follow the map to a secluded, private house. There’s a balcony. The shower is made entirely of glass and surrounded by the lush greenery outside. The exterior wall in the bedroom is also made of glass and affords you panoramic views of the beach and forest and everything in between. The thread count of the Egyptian cotton sheets is disgustingly low.

(Which, speaking of Hoseok and all his money—he’d been the one to teach you about thread counts to begin with. You’d wrongfully assumed the higher the number the better, but Hoseok had gently grabbed the scratchy 1500 count sheets out of your hands with a pained grimace and handed you a set of Supima cotton sheets with a startlingly low thread count instead.

Rich people have everything backwards.)

Truth be told, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d see on some influencer’s Instagram account. The kind of place they’d delude you into thinking you could afford, too, because having your influencer boyfriend take a picture of you sinking into the lush white duvet and plastering a $10 filter on it is more important than affording your student loan payments.

But you digress.

Either way, you’ll have to send a thank you card to the board of directors.

Hoseok, on the other hand, balks for the second time. Takes one look at the singular bed and completely shuts down, Windows sound effects practically blaring over an invisible loudspeaker above his head once again. “Where’s the other bed?” he asks stupidly.

You snort. Stash your suitcase in the corner. You’ll unpack it later… or next week. Whenever you get around to it, really. “What other bed?”

“You know, like. The other one.”

“There’s only one, Seok. Why would there be two? This is a couple’s retreat.”

He pouts. “Not every couple sleeps together, you know. My grandparents have separate bedrooms.”

“No offense, bud, but your grandfather also wears diapers.”

“So?”

“So there might be a correlation, is what I’m saying.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as your husband of seventy years just because he might pee the bed sometimes?”

You level him with a look. Unpacking doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. “I’m well past the age where I could conceivably be married to someone for seventy years, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re not even thirty yet.”

You click your tongue. “Hoseok, you of all people know I never expected to live past the age of thirteen. There’s no way I’m making it to ninety-seven.”

“You only thought you were gonna die when you were thirteen because you had your appendix removed.” You give him another look. “And you got your tonsils removed that same year.” Another one. “What?” he huffs. “What’d I forget?”

“That time we were playing volleyball in gym class and you spiked the ball right in my face and broke my nose.”

“Not a life-threatening injury.”

“Thirteen was a really hard year for me,” you retort, overdramatic as always. “It’s a miracle I survived.”

“Oh my god—”

“A miracle, Hobi.”

With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s off to unpack his luggage, because Hoseok is filthy rich and has expensive clothes that, according to him, cannot, under any circumstances, go hours without being hung up properly. You’ve never seen a silk shirt with a wrinkle in it, let alone a wrinkle on any article of Hoseok’s clothing, but you learned a long time ago it’s much less stressful to just let him be neurotic about his wardrobe.

You, on the other hand, are going to do no such thing. You’ll live out of your suitcase for as long as you can get away with it, so you flop face-first onto the bed, careful to leave your shoes dangling off the edge. Hoseok’s already going to give you shit about—

“Yah!” he wails, his fifteenth white button-down shirt draped haphazardly off a hanger. “No street clothes in the bed!”

You roll your eyes. “Street clothes? Who says shit like that? Most people just have clothes.”

“You’ve been wearing them all day,” Hoseok argues, because there’s very little he loves more than an argument. “They’re dirty, and now they’ve made the bed dirty, too.”

However, to the detriment of Hoseok’s well-being, you love arguing, too. You look down at both your clothes and the pristine duvet and vaguely gesture at both. “Ah, yes. So filthy. The bed—which you’d nearly had an aneurysm over sharing with me not even ten minutes ago, might I add—is so dirty. How will we ever be able to sleep in it?”

Watching Hoseok mentally tabulate through the Seven Stages of Grief is the most entertainment you’ve had in hours. Jaw clenched, he simply stares at you for a few seconds before leveling his voice and repeating, “No street clothes in the bed.” Then he tacks on a please that’s clearly an afterthought. “Didn’t you bring loungewear? Can’t you just wear that instead?”

You did, in fact, bring loungewear. It would’ve been irresponsible not to, considering the length of your stay and proximity to paradise, but stubbornness seems to be the flavor of the day so you just shrug and toe your shoes off. “I’m not going to change. We don’t have long before we have that welcome dinner, anyway. I’m not going to put on loungewear only to change into dinner-wear and then come back, shower, and change again into pajamas.”

Hoseok’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What welcome dinner?”

“Do you not read?” you tease. “There was a whole itinerary attached to the map. We have a welcome dinner tonight with that guy Namjoon’s in love with.”

“Which one?”

You click your tongue. “The guy who runs this place.” Then you furrow your brow. “What do you mean ‘which one’?”

“Nothing. Just—you know how Namjoon is. He falls in love at least eight separate times whenever he goes to the gardening store.”

“Guess he doesn’t herb his enthusiasm.” Hoseok groans loudly as you point finger guns at him.

He lobs a mated pair of socks at your head that bounce off your ass instead. “Please just get ready for dinner. I can’t do this.”

To put it mildly, Kim Seokjin is fucking weird.

Hoseok hadn’t noticed. He’d taken one look at him and his mischievous eyes and welcoming smile and dove right in, engaging him in endless conversation about god-knows-what. That’s just how Hoseok is. Aside from his justifiable distrust of Tinder dates, he makes and keeps friends effortlessly. It’s the sunshine in him, your mother always used to say, because Hoseok was always the sun and everyone else were sunflowers, desperate to bask in him and reflect his light.

(Namjoon has always said it’s because he’s an Aquarius. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it’ll click once you buy a few crystals and start exclusively listening to Fleetwood Mac.)

And that has always been okay—good, even. He’s never lost that innate goodness, even when he’d been placed at the head of a billion-dollar corporation where ruthlessness is encouraged. Hoseok’s edges remain rounded and soft; he emphasizes a need for kindness, shows it has a place amongst the cold, calculated world of business. Really, it’s great. You can’t be more proud to call him your best friend.

However.

It doesn’t mean Hoseok isn’t a fucking idiot sometimes.

Because he’s good, his first assumption is always that others are good, too. No matter how many times you’ve grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away from a fire, his first instinct is still to reach out and touch it.

His first serious girlfriend, back in high school? Yeah, you’d warned him about her. Told him she was messing around with a kid on the soccer team on the side, but Hoseok had insisted she’d never do that. “She’s into embroidery,” he’d said, as if that excused someone from being a two-timing cheat.

That guy he’d been partnered with for a serious project in business school? You’d listened to Hoseok talk about him over Skype once and suggested he find a new one. Kept silent as he unloaded on you a few weeks later after the guy had fucked him over.

You’d even advised him against hiring Namjoon. Couldn’t fathom why Hoseok would even be considering hiring someone who showed up to an interview hours early. Obviously he hadn’t listened, and look where it’s gotten the two of you.

It isn’t that you’ve got a sixth sense for assholes or anything. It’s just that Hoseok’s such a terrible judge of character that it makes you look like Sherlock Holmes in comparison.

So it comes as no surprise to you when Seokjin excuses himself for a moment and Hoseok turns to you with hearts in his eyes only to be greeted by your Hoseok you’re doing that thing again where you put people on a pedestal who are not to be trusted look.

“No,” he dismisses immediately. “Him? No way.”

Your nostrils flare. “Hoseok. Don’t be an idiot about this. He’s weird.”

“He’s just eccentric. Aren’t all these New Age hippie types like that? The guy runs a wellness retreat for fuck’s sake—of course he’s weird.”

“His vibes are off,” you retort, which admittedly sounds like a New Age hippie thing to say, but the longer Hoseok insists you’re wrong, the more you begin to wonder if you are. The two of you had been sent here by Namjoon, and he’s easily one of the weirdest people you’ve ever met. Maybe Hoseok’s right.

You allow yourself two minutes of self-doubt. Then you’re shaking your head and poking your tongue into the fat of your cheek because you know bad vibes when you feel them and Kim Seokjin has them in spades.

The man in question returns a few moments later, two new men in tow: a taller one with a boxy smile and a tan and a shorter one with a scowl that looks permanent but not on purpose, like it’d just shown up on his face one day and forgot to leave. The grumpy-looking one sits across from Hoseok, looking every bit as unsure as you, while the other one takes the empty seat to his left, right in front of you.

“I’m Taehyung,” he says, ass barely in the chair before he’s leaning over the table to shake your hand. His feels like a hand that’s shaken many others—firm, warm, soft. Feels a lot like shaking Hoseok’s hand might feel, an importance simmering beneath the surface, but you’ve never had a reason to do so. “This is Yoongi.” Taehyung gestures to the man beside him. “He doesn’t talk much but you get used to him, I think.”

“You think?” Hoseok laughs, an eyebrow quirked, fully in his element. Words soft, edges softer. Hoseok was born for these types of moments. Meeting strangers, knowing what to say.

Yoongi stays quiet. Barely looks around the room, which is a feat in itself. Seokjin had invited all of you to dinner in a grand dining hall, walls tall and floors gleaming, both stark white like the rest of the resort. Immediately sat at the head of the table like some sort of king, and you would’ve thought something of it, maybe looked at Hoseok and mouthed what’s this guy’s deal? But then he placed his napkin neatly across his lap, looked at the two of you, smiled dazzlingly, and said, “Is cereal soup?”

It had all gone downhill from there, really.

Now Taehyung and Yoongi are seated across from you and Hoseok and Yoongi still hasn’t said a word and you’re hoping maybe, just maybe, he’s also picking up on how weird all of this is. Taehyung has that exuberant optimism that reminds you a lot of Hoseok so you disregard him as a comrade immediately. Just the kind of guy to love any and everyone, oblivious to bad vibes. No, Yoongi’s the one you need on your side and it’s glaringly obvious.

One small hiccup, though: he really doesn’t talk.

Like, at all.

Taehyung talks enough for the both of them, endearing everyone with a smile and an endless supply of stories told in that deep baritone voice of his. Every now and then he’ll turn to Yoongi and say isn’t that right, dumpling? and Yoongi just hums an acknowledgment. Doesn’t seem put off by the pet name at all, despite looking like someone that’d be put off by pet names.

They’re cute. You mouth as much to Hoseok and he just smiles at you in return, a soft little thing. Yoongi and Taehyung are the kind of couple who give off we’ve been together for decades energy even though they don’t look much older than you. Just two people completely at ease with one another, and it does something to your stomach. All small, hidden touches and words communicated through looks alone. Best friends and lovers. Partners both in crime and in life.

It’s a sweet moment.

It’s a moment completely negated by Seokjin’s booming voice at the head of the table. “Well, this was fun, wasn’t it? Let’s move to the lounge.”

Yoongi doesn’t look to Taehyung. Yoongi looks to you, and it’s only because you’d looked at him instead of Hoseok that you notice the subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the slight pinch between his brows. He doesn’t outright ask it, but there’s a question in his body language: What’s this guy’s deal?

It’s one you’d also like an answer to.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time the five of you talk in the lounge. Well, Taehyung’s once again speaking for both of them, hands and arms gesturing wildly all around him, and Yoongi seems more than content to sit in silence. Seokjin and Hoseok chime in where they should, asking questions and emphasizing words and generally being agreeable. You, on the other hand, sit next to Hoseok and try to exude the same energy Taehyung and Yoongi do. The we’re so in love and comfortable with each other we don’t even need to touch type. The we only post selfies together three times a year because we don’t need to flaunt our relationship variety.

But, as all inevitable things inevitably do, the conversation moves to relationships. Seokjin sneaks it in under the guise of getting to know everyone, and Taehyung takes the bait immediately, seemingly always looking for a reason to show off Yoongi and talk him up. You hate that it’s endearing. You hate that you want something like it—someone enamored with you without preamble. A just because kind of love. Something solid and bone-deep.

“It was totally by accident,” Taehyung’s saying as your attention drifts back to him. Not soon enough, because he’s clearly halfway through a story and you have no idea what the plot is. “We’d both been backpacking through Europe, and I was trying to check in at this tiny hostel in Thessaloniki but my Greek is terrible, understandably, so I was really struggling. Trying to tell the poor woman behind the desk my name and that I’d booked a private room, and she just kept shrugging and looking at me like I was crazy. It was, like, midnight, so I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, and then out of nowhere this guy”—He jerks his thumb at Yoongi, who remains silent and still—“just comes up behind me and starts speaking fluent Greek.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Fluent Greek? Wow,” he says, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe, “that’s really impressive.”

“You have no idea,” Taehyung continues to gush. “He speaks, like, fifteen languages fluently, I swear to god. Anyway, turns out the hostel never received my reservation, which makes sense because I’d tried booking it from the top of a mountain. Yoongi took pity on me and let me share his room since they were fully booked.”

Seokjin smiles and touches a hand to his heart. It’s completely performative but it works—Taehyung looks like he’s just passed some silent test and won the lottery. “Adorable. And so noble, Yoongi. Not many people would do that for a stranger.”

Yoongi shrugs.

Undeterred, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “How about the two of you? Set up by friends? Blind date?” His beady eyes are studying you both diligently, eyes raking over your face for the tiniest tell. “Childhood friends turned lovers?”

Hoseok coughs.

“We met at a cartography class,” you explain, voice even despite Seokjin’s prolonged eye contact making you want to lock yourself in the nearest bathroom. Hoseok had nearly given the two of you away, and it was all you could do to recall whatever bullshit you had tried selling Jimin to cover your asses.

Yoongi’s fighting off a smile. Taehyung looks enthralled. “Cartography? Whoa, now that’s something you definitely don’t hear everyday.”

“A lost art, if you ask me,” Seokjin says. “Are either of you geographists, then?”

Hoseok tenses, fidgeting ceasing immediately. The two of you hadn’t talked about this—about how honest you wanted to be, how much would be fabricated—so while this is typically the kind of environment he’d thrive in, you pluck the reins from his hands and take over. “Double majored back in undergrad. Geography and psych.”

“Interesting combo.”

You nod. Not the first time you’d heard that. “Well, there are things you want to do and things you should do, so I did both.”

“And what was it you wanted to do?”

You wave your hand, gesturing vaguely. “Ah, you know. You go into university with all these aspirations, have all these starry-eyed ideas. You’re gonna be someone, you’re gonna help people, you’re gonna make an impact and travel all over and be super important. People are gonna pay to hear you speak and all that bullshit.” Hoseok’s looking at you—you can feel it, but you can also see the blurred outline of his profile. “What did I want to do? Something in human geography, maybe cultural or political geography.”

“The psych degree?” Seokjin continues prodding, and you find you don’t mind it. Hoseok certainly never had. Was always far too busy doing important business things on the opposite side of the country.

“Picked it up about halfway through. Figured I should have a back-up plan in case I wound up being the only geopolitician working at Starbucks.” Your fingers start picking at your pants even though there’s nothing to grab onto. You’d only packed your best, keenly aware of the standards required to be in Jung Hoseok’s inner circle. “A lot of the research and analysis courses overlapped, so I just… did it.”

“That’s very ambitious.” Seokjin’s compliment feels like some weird kind of approval, like another unspoken test Taehyung would grin over passing. “And now? You’d mentioned undergrad.”

“Started a post-bacc in GIS since I liked doing research. Hence the cartography class.”

Hence the cartography class, as if that’s the end of it and there’s nothing else to say. Like you hadn’t dropped out of that to pursue a Master’s in psychology and maybe med school or a PhD to follow, because your mother would be proud of someone with a doctorate, right? You could finally stop hearing—

Did you hear Hoseokie got an internship at Google? They pay $8,000 a month!

Did you hear Hoseokie graduated at the top of his class? His mother said he didn’t even have to apply to any MBA programs, they recruited him! He’s torn between Stanford and the University of Penn. Isn’t that a nice problem to have?

Did you hear that Hoseokie finished his program early? He’s so smart. His parents must be so proud of him.

Did you hear Hoseokie’s moving back? Just an associate vice president position for now, but his mother says there’s already talks of him being promoted to CEO within the next few years.

That’s not to say you weren’t proud of him or that you were resentful. You’ve always been Hoseok’s biggest fan, but Hoseok had moved across the country and still casted a shadow so large it was impossible to not be swallowed up by it, and it’s hard to have all the things you want to hear be said about someone else.

So, yeah, hence the cartography class.

“What about you, Hoseok? You’ve been quiet.”

Hoseok’s never quiet. When you turn to look at him, he’s already staring back. There’s no perpetual million-dollar smile, no wrinkles at the corner of his eyes from laughing too much, smiling too much, enjoying life too much. There’s just a concerned look that you don’t really know what to do with, because you’ve spent so much of your life worrying over Hoseok—over his concerning judge of character, his inability to cook, those kids on the schoolbus, his diet and now his organs—that things feel out of sorts now that the script is flipped.

It takes him a while to come back down to earth, realize someone has asked him a question. “Business,” is all he says.

He’s still staring.

Things are tense.

Weird-tense, because things are never tense between you and Hoseok. Not even back in high school when you’d threatened his then-girlfriend, the one who was cheating on him, and she ratted you out. Hoseok had shown up all red in the face, talked a lot about what would happen if you ruined things for him, but you’d just said alright, Hobi, whatever you say and things had gone back to normal.

But back in your overpriced rental house, things are definitely weird-tense.

“You never told me any of that.”

Ah. You shrug, toweling off your hair after your shower, and rifle through your suitcase for suitable pajamas. “You never asked.”

“I thought the map story was bullshit. You never—you double majored?”

Isn’t this so typical, you think. You could write a biography on Hoseok, all his accomplishments and dreams and all those silly little subplots that connect at the end, and he didn’t even know your college major. Majors. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

In the bathroom, you go through your skincare routine on autopilot and floss and brush your teeth. Try to rid yourself of the taste of disappointment. Smear cold cream under your eyes and try to pretend the sting is from the scent and not welling tears, because this is not something to cry over. This is stupid and unimportant, and you now have two and a half degrees in psychology that tell you how to deal with it.

But Hoseok’s reluctant to let it go. Wants to talk it to death when you’re more than happy to never discuss it again. You’re twenty-seven, meaning you’ve had at least five years to accept the fact that your mother had given all her pride to Hoseok instead. You’re not really keen on spending another five years feeling inadequate. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He appears in the doorway of the bathroom looking positively distressed. “Mom had only told me about the psych degree and that you were trying to get into UCLA for your Master’s. She never said anything about the geography degree.”

You just shrug. “Things you want to do and things you should, right?”

Hoseok doesn’t buy it. “Was telling me what was going on in your life not something you wanted to do, then?” He looks stung.

You’re tired, still a little fucked up from the jet lag and sitting through a bizarre dinner and serving yourself up on a silver platter to an even more bizarre man that now knew something about you that not even Hoseok had known. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, because you’re even more loose-lipped than usual when tired and prone to irritability, and provoking an argument on the first night of a month-long vacation is not something you’re going to do.

And Hoseok—

Hoseok must get it, you think, because he seems to deflate. Just sighs, shoulders hunched, before he steps aside to let you out of the bathroom. No argument, no thinly-veiled threats, no guilt-trips. Resignation: the same kind Namjoon had spoken about when he’d relayed the story of how the wellness retreat came to be.

A resigned Hoseok is probably a dangerous Hoseok, but you’re too exhausted to give a shit. You’ll strategize in the morning, come up with a new plan.

Except the morning comes and Hoseok doesn’t mention it at all.

He doesn’t say anything about it for the next three days, actually, which are all the same and go like this:

On the morning of day two, Hoseok reluctantly wakes you up just after six. There’s a small offering of fruit and coffee waiting for you on a tray that you promptly ignore in lieu of going back to sleep, which lasts until approximately 6:06am when Hoseok wakes you again. The two of you are scheduled for a morning yoga session at seven-o’clock, which is supposedly mandatory and can’t be canceled.

Taehyung takes the mat next to you, leaning over to ask, “Have you ever done this before?” with a slightly panicked expression on this face.

“Every Saturday morning back home,” you answer. Taehyung chuckles nervously, and your experience becomes painfully clear when you’re nailing your Sugarcane pose and everyone else topples over sideways. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as he hits the floor, and he’s so quiet that your instructor misses him completely when they fret around the room helping everyone else.

You’re so distracted by helping Yoongi yourself that you miss the deep furrow of Hoseok’s brow. And the crestfallen look on his face. Just another thing he hadn’t known.

After you survive yoga, the two of you sit through an awkward breakfast with Taehyung, Certified Chatterbox, and Yoongi, Not One. Taehyung doesn’t comment on Hoseok’s newfound quietude, which is a little surprising, but Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you that makes your coffee suddenly taste stale.

Between the hours of nine and one, Hoseok disappears to go to the spa or the gym or the gift shop, because he is literally incapable of not spending money. You’re waiting for him to realize how weird it is for a wellness retreat to sell souvenirs but he never brings it up, just strolls back into the room each time and dumps a concerning amount of magnets into his suitcase.

(You wonder if any of them are for your mother. You wonder what she’ll think about this—you and Hoseok going to a couple’s retreat together, playing pretend. You wonder if bagging someone like Hoseok would finally make her proud of you and how shallow that is.)

After lunch, which is barely less awkward than breakfast, the four of you are ushered into a so-called Meditation Clinic, hosted by a very muscular guy with a baby face and a lot of tattoos. His name is Jungkook, and he nearly sends Hoseok into Sexuality Crisis Episode No. 2. Hoseok doesn’t do a damn second of meditating for three days, just stares at the wall looking like a baby who’d just been tricked into sucking on a lemon. Taehyung chatters away at you the entire time, completely oblivious to Jungkook’s annoyed stare. You share an exasperated look with Yoongi on your way out.

Hoseok returns to your rental home on the evening of day three looking scandalized. Apparently, this is the result of him running into Jimin, who’d offered to read and analyze his birth chart for him. Apparently, this is Jimin’s second job when there’s no new check-ins to harass. Apparently, Hoseok has been “read for filth” by “the stars” and “doesn’t wish to discuss it further.”

(Interestingly, Jimin corners you not long after. There’s a dangerous twinkle in his eye as he says, “Curious?” and gestures to a small room just off the lounge.

“The curtain’s kind of corny, isn’t it?” you say, scoffing as one strand of beads smacks you in the side of the head. “Like, this all feels very mysterious carnival tent and not billion-dollar resort, y’know?”

Jimin takes a seat behind a large desk, completely void of decoration. You’re not sure what you expected—some tarot cards, maybe a crystal ball to sell the illusion—but it’s empty. “You must have Leo placements,” he mutters.

“Moon and Mars, actually. Lucky guess.”

He gestures for you to take the seat in front of him. “Mm, not really luck, they’re just really good at lying.”

“And what am I lying about?”

Jimin ignores your question. Instead, he cocks his head to the side and says, “When’s your birthday?”

“Aren’t you the astrologer? Take a guess.” Jimin just stares, looking endlessly amused. Eventually you huff and answer. “March 15th.”

Overdramatic as always, Jimin fake-gags. “A Pisces sun with a Leo moon? Horrendous, truly. How do you function?”

“Stunted, clearly.”

He actually laughs at this, rewarding you with a brilliant smile and an endearingly crooked front tooth. “No matter.” He shakes his head, blond locks falling elegantly around his face as if arranged by the gods themselves. “You may have a truly tragic sun-moon pairing, but it bodes well for you and that neurotic mess of a best friend you’re fake-dating.”

You choke so hard Jimin actually offers you a glass of water.)

Dinners are spent as a five-piece. Seokjin asks more idiotic questions, such as are eyebrows considered facial hair, which prompts a very deep exhale from Yoongi, and did Adam and Eve have bellybuttons, which sends Taehyung into an existential crisis he’s yet to recover from.

Sometimes there are bonfires on the beach at night during which Jungkook plays an acoustic guitar and sings like an angel. Hoseok is conspicuously absent during these.

He’s also absent during your nightly routine. You shower, smear your skincare all over your face, and brush your teeth alone. You change into your pajamas and crawl into your side of the bed alone. By night three, you’re so annoyed you build a pillow wall between the two of you that you instruct Hoseok, under threat of bodily harm, not to demolish.

On the morning of day five, you’re awake before the sun. You sit in the darkness for a while, listening to Hoseok’s soft breaths on the other side of the pillow wall. He hasn’t gone five days without talking to you in twenty years. Even when he’d threatened you over his high school girlfriend, you were back in his good graces within 48 hours, and all of this for what? Because your mother is kind of an asshole and you’re kind of jealous and Hoseok is kind of self-centered sometimes?

“Hobi,” you say, leaning over the wall to nudge his shoulder. “Hobi, wake up.”

He doesn’t budge, mouth hanging open as he continues snoring quietly, these little hiccups of breath every now and then. All you can do is sigh. “Hoseok.” Nothing. “Jung Hoseok,” you try again, voice hardened into a baseless threat. He keeps snoring.

You groan, run your hands over your face in exasperation. Stupidly, you’d assumed that Hoseok would be easier to wake up now that he’s a Very Important Person worth millions of dollars. Clearly he’s not. So you throw the duvet off your legs and stumble to the bathroom in the dark. Brush your teeth and wash your face and throw on a loose long-sleeved shirt and a pair of yoga pants. It’s the weekend, so you’re free to do as you please, no mandated schedule, and you know exactly who you’re going to see.

Unsurprisingly, Taehyung is on the beach, cross-legged in the center of a large blanket close to the water but far enough away that the tide isn’t a concern. His curls are blowing gently in the breeze and every now and then he lets out a huff as he tries to flick them out of his eyes. No wonder Yoongi took pity on him back in that hostel in Thessaloniki. You’ve barely known him a week and are already hopelessly endeared by him.

“Good morning,” he says, eyes closed. Even the sun is barely awake this early, but it spills across Taehyung’s cheeks in dusky, golden rays nonetheless. “The beach is beautiful at this hour, isn’t it?”

Ah, so Taehyung’s one of those. Chatty at all hours, just like Hoseok. You groan. “Yeah, sure.”

“I have a thermos of coffee if you want some.”

“You just carry around thermoses of coffee?”

Taehyung laughs. “No. I don’t drink it, but I always make some in the morning and put it in a thermos in case today’s the day Yoongi decides to wake up before noon and join me.”

You eye the empty space next to him. “I’m guessing today’s not the day.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “After forcing him to wake up at 6am to do yoga the last few days? I might never see him again.”

“It’d be deserved, in his defense.”

Taehyung seems to think on this. Has a laugh just as airy as the gentle ocean wind, one that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world. So much like Hoseok. You wonder if you’re like Yoongi. If you’re just as closed off but more talkative. You wonder if there’s a reason Yoongi holds his cards so close to his chest or if he simply sees no reason for anyone to know him. He’s got Taehyung and fifteen languages and a lifetime’s worth of stories, what more could he need? “You’re probably right. Where’s your other half?”

“Also asleep.”

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpans, “there are parallels everywhere.”

You don’t know him well enough to know how he means it. If it’s sardonic and taking the piss out of that sort of thing the way Yoongi would mean it, or if he’s genuine how Hoseok would be. So you just hum a maybe-agreement and stare out at the ocean.

Truth be told, you’re not sure why Taehyung was the one you wanted to find. He just seems like the type to know a lot about relationships, people. Seems like someone who’d meet and befriend more people in a day than you would in five years, so someone like that’s gotta have some sort of answers.

“How long have you and Yoongi been together?”

“Oh. A long time. I was nineteen when I went to Greece and Yoongi was twenty-one, but it was such bad timing, you know? Like, I was only two months into a year-long trip, and Yoongi has to be dragged into everything kicking and screaming, so we didn’t reconnect for over a year after we met.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung smiles: small, tender, fond. “A little, yeah, but I think that sort of stuff is inconsequential in the long run. What’s a year’s worth of distance when you’ve got the rest of your lives?” He shifts on the blanket, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. “Although I went to Australia a month later and got bit by this huge fucking spider, so I guess the rest of my life was questionable for a while. In that case, yeah, it would’ve been really hard.”

You hum again, and in a need to fill the silence, Taehyung asks, “What about you and Hoseok?”

“What about us?”

“How long have you been together?”

We’re not, really, sits on the tip of your tongue. Jimin has already seen straight through the bullshit, so why not Taehyung, too? What’s the worst that can happen—they kick you out because you’re not a proper couple? What does that even mean? You’ve known Hoseok for twenty years. You watched him grow into a successful, kind, intelligent adult from a stupid-as-fuck eight-year-old. You’ve watched him fall in love and get his heart broken and piece it back together again. You know his takeout orders and his favorite color and the movies he still cries over but lies and says he doesn’t. You know the smell of his mother’s perfume when she squeals and hugs you like you’re her own. You’re one of two-hundred followers on Hoseok’s private Instagram account—the one you and Namjoon and Hoseok’s sister always join forces to bully him on when he tries posting a thirst trap.

You know what Hoseok looks like when he cries. You know what he’s like when he’s vulnerable and insecure and you know how to be a pillar for him when he’s like that, and he knows the same about you.

Some couples don’t have half of that, so what does it mean or even matter if your coupling is proper? Isn’t what you have enough?

You sigh. “We grew up together. I’ve known him for twenty years.”

“Oh.” Taehyung sucks in a breath. “I thought you’d said—”

“Yeah,” you interject. “We’re not, like, romantically involved.” Another sigh. “It’s a long story.”

Taehyung just smiles, looks at you with those butter-soft eyes, and you’re diving into twenty years of history and backstory. You tell him about punching the kid on the bus. You tell him about Hoseok’s first serious girlfriend in high school and how it made your stomach hurt—

(“Because you had a crush on him?”

“What? No.”

“Hm. Okay.”)

—and you tell him about your mother and all her misplaced pride. He laughs at every story you tell him about Namjoon and how you and Hoseok wound up at this weird wellness retreat. He stops laughing when you tell him that you and Hoseok haven’t spoken properly in days, and his eyebrows get very serious when you admit it’s the reason you came to find him.

“You just look like someone who might know how to help me fix it,” you finish.

Taehyung tries—and fails—to not look pleased as punch at this. “I’m generally very unhelpful. Well, Yoongi says I’m not-not helpful, but sometimes I try to help too much and wind up making things worse.” You shoot him a dubious look. “I won’t do that this time, though, I promise! Please consider me your official relationship fixer.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea anymore.”

“It probably isn’t, if I’m being totally honest, but if I can manage to make Min Yoongi fall in love with me, I’m extremely overconfident I can do just about anything.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

He claps his hands together. “Great! We can start with you apologizing and telling him you’ve been acting out due to temporary insanity on the basis of being in love with him for years and never saying anything.”

“Excuse me—”

“It’s best to be extremely honest about these sorts of things as to leave no room for misinterpretation or misunderstandings,” Taehyung says, tone condescending like you’re a child though it’s working overtime to not sound that way. At your slack jaw, Taehyung’s eyes grow wide. “Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“Me and Hoseok?”

Of course you’ve thought about it, it was just dismissed immediately each time. You love Hoseok; he’s the most important person in your life, and that’s exactly why you shooed those intrusive thoughts away every time they crept up. You’re not generally one to overthink on consequences, but Hoseok is always an idea you’ve treated with kiddie gloves. Something delicate. Something placed in an enclosure with 21mm glass walls and eighteen security alarms. So, sure, you’ve thought about it in the same way you’ve thought about winning the lottery or telling your PhD advisor to fuck off and moving to some remote island paradise where there’s always someone to wait on you hand and foot.

Of course you’ve thought about you and Hoseok, in the same way you think about all inevitable things (like the heat death of the universe) and also impossibilities, both wistful and staunch.

“Yeah,” you eventually answer. “Of course I have.”

Taehyung blinks owlishly. “I thought for sure you were gonna deny it.” Then the smile is back and it makes his eyes glitter like tiny stars. “But that’s great! The first step is admitting you have a problem, or whatever. Anyway! Do you still have feelings? Yoongi thinks I’m bad at reading people”—Yoongi is right, you think—“but I’ve seen the way he looks at me a million times, and sometimes that’s the same way Hoseok looks at you. So I think you should tell him.”

Snorting, you turn your gaze to the ocean. Even the water seems to still be sleepy at this hour, the waves small and gentle as they lap against the shore. “Maybe later on. Getting rejected a few days into a month-long trip doesn’t really sound like my idea of fun.”

Face scrunched up in disgust, Taehyung whines, “You wouldn’t! You’re gonna waste all this time because you think you’d get rejected when in actuality all you’re doing is wasting some really great glass walls to fuck against.”

You blanch. You can say, with one hundred percent conviction, that you’ve never thought about sleeping with Hoseok. Okay, so that’s not entirely true. There was the one time you had to defend him from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter when they threatened to eat him and one person suggested sparing him because, excessive wealth aside, he had big dick energy. That’d given you pause. Did Hoseok have a big dick?

“No way,” you retort, “Hoseok is like a Ken doll. Completely smooth from the waist down. Dickless.”

Taehyung heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Another L for the gay community.”

Hoseok sleeps until noon.

You’ve already washed the sea salt from your hair and returned to the rental house with your own small haul of gift shop magnets by the time he stirs awake, groggy and looking worse for wear. “Wha’ time s’it?” he slurs, voice far too deep for you to remain unaffected.

“Just after twelve,” you answer. “I can make you some coffee if you want.”

All you get in response is a muffled groan, Hoseok’s dandelion bed-head disappearing under the fluffy duvet once again. You’ve known him long enough to know that means yes, to know he takes his coffee with far too much cream and sugar, the liquid something close to bone white by the time he’s done adding and mixing.

You set the mug on his nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to peel down the duvet and scratch at his scalp. “Coffee’s ready, sunshine.” Eyes still sealed shut, you move your fingers lower to tickle at his neck. “C’mon, Hobi, you’re pissing away another beautiful day in paradise.” You don’t bother telling him it’s overcast and drizzling; not like it matters, because Hoseok groans again and swats your hand away before shoving his head under his pillow.

He says something you can’t catch, words unintelligible beneath layers of down. “What’d you say?” you ask. When his head pops up, expression frustrated and cheeks flushed red, you poke the dimple in his left cheek. He has to fight off a smile.

“I asked why you’re being so nice to me.”

You frown. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

Hoseok sighs. Adjusts until he’s sitting up, long, skinny legs tangled in the comforter. Something about his hands is so interesting he’s unable to focus on anything else. “Because I’ve been a dick to you.” When you move to protest, he tacks on, “And not just on this trip, either. For a while.” For a second, you think he might cry. Hoseok used to cry a lot as a kid—had too much empathy for such a small body to know what to do with so all the excess tended to leak out. “God, there was so much I didn’t know? Like your majors? And the yoga? I just…” He trails off, looks lost. Picks up the coffee mug just to do something with his hands. “It feels bad. It just feels really bad.”

You return his sigh, wishing Hoseok was a little less honest. Always the first to put himself out there, be vulnerable, and sometimes it’s nice and sometimes it makes you feel guilty. “It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” he argues.

You hold up a hand. “I know where you’re coming from, and I get it. I would probably feel bad, too, if I were in your position.” He whimpers, earning a soft laugh from you. “But I’m telling you it’s okay. I don’t blame you, all right? I never have. I don’t lay in bed at night agonizing over it. This isn’t like that for me.”

“Then what’s it like?”

You hum, knowing this is a moment to handle with care. You can’t be reckless here. So you think it over, and you say, “It’s… I don’t think this happened because you don’t care, because I know you do. I know I’m your best friend in every way someone can be your best friend, and you’re my best friend in all the ways someone can be mine. It’s just that those two things look different, is what I’m saying. And I think that’s okay.”

“It’s unbalanced.”

You nod. “Yeah, maybe it is, but sometimes that happens. It hasn’t always been unbalanced.”

This seems to calm him, and his smile is slow, reluctant, but it’s there nonetheless. “Okay.” He exhales the weight of the world. “Okay. I’d still like to be better, though.”

“We have all the time in the world, Seok.”

You normally eat most of your meals with Taehyung and Yoongi anyway, but since your conversation on the beach, Taehyung attaches to you like a limpet.

The first time had been unnerving. He’d cornered you outside the dining hall, stomach rumbling even as he demanded to know everything, please spare nothing, no detail is too small. There hadn’t been much to report, just that the two of you had talked and things were better.

“Did you tell him you’re in lo—” had earned him an elbow to the ribs.

He hasn’t asked again.

But he’s still hard to shake during mealtime, especially breakfast, because he wakes up ready to talk, conversation locked and loaded on his tongue. Yoongi, of course, doesn’t talk at all, so he offloads onto you and Hoseok, who’s too good-natured to ask for some peace and quiet.

“Seokjin asked me last night if water was wet,” he says, spearing a long piece of pineapple on his fork. “Like, obviously it’s wet? It’s water.”

“It isn’t, though,” you argue. “Water is just water. Wet is a state—”

Taehyung, cheeks bulging around the fruit like a hamster, frowns. “Huh? No. California is a state.”

Yoongi faceplants onto the table.

“No, Tae.” You shake your head. “Like, a state of being. Water makes other things wet, but it’s not wet itself.”

His frown deepens. Looks to Yoongi for help, clarification, but he’s still face-down, so he looks to Hoseok instead. He, very steadfastly, says, “She’s weirdly smart, man. I dunno. I’m not arguing with her.”

“Why? Because you’re also—” Another elbow to the ribs. He coughs, makes a very valiant attempt to look cool, calm, and collected. “You’re also very smart, Hoseok,” he amends. “I am very interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“In business, though. I’m not really smart in science stuff.”

“Interesting,” Taehyung muses. “Would you say you’re smart in love?”

Hoseok is good-natured enough to look genuinely confused. “Huh?”

Yoongi finally picks his head up. Sends Taehyung some kind of look that must mean something to only the two of them, because Taehyung just sighs, put-upon, and shoves a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. He doesn’t talk to Hoseok for the rest of the day.

Two weeks pass in a blur.

The schedule remains the same. Yoga, shared meals, weird quasi-therapy sessions which you have come to realize are just minor cult recruiting, bonfires on the beach. You and Hoseok stay up late talking and barely make it on time to whatever activity you have first thing in the morning. Jimin corners you at least once a week to talk about your “fucked up and frankly demonic” birth chart because he refuses to believe it’s real. Jungkook offers to teach the four of you how to surf but abandons that five minutes into the first session after Yoongi refuses to touch sand and Hoseok nearly passes out from seeing Jungkook shirtless.

…Which Taehyung catches, of course, because he just sidles up alongside you. Says, “Ooh, interesting,” again, in a really smug way, before intercepting Jungkook and leading him far, far away from the beach. You think he winks at you over his shoulder.

Bastard.

But it works, much to your surprise. Of course the two of you have talked it to death, but part of Hoseok’s bid to be better also seems to include being more tactile. Which… is nice, you’ll admit. Hoseok’s fingers are long and slender and perfectly manicured, his hands soft, so it feels nice when they play with your hair or scratch gently at your back or hold your hand, but it also fills you with an anxious kind of dread.

Uncertainty, maybe.

You know how these things work. Forced proximity, only one bed. You’re two-thirds of a psychologist, after all, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok is just caught up in the moment, at the relief of overcoming an obstacle and making it to the other side. (God knows the bender he’d gone on after graduating business school attests to that.)

Curiously, none of that stops you from leaning into it.

It doesn’t feel weird. It doesn’t feel awkward or strange or anything besides natural. Hoseok’s bare face is the last thing you see before you fall asleep and the first thing you know you’ll see when you wake up, and just having that certainty, that security, makes the early mornings bearable. It makes them something worth looking forward to. It makes all the tension in your body unwind. Makes you pliable, has you laughing freely and leaning into Hoseok’s side during all those meals Taehyung spends talking. Except he’s not talking so much anymore—now, he’s studying. Smiling. Sending little glances only you and Yoongi catch.

Everything comes to a head at another of Seokjin’s weird dinners.

“A question for your discussion,” he begins, and you swear you hear Yoongi groan under his breath. When you look over at him, he’s nonchalantly chewing his food, no indication at all that he made a sound for the first time in two and a half weeks, so you convince yourself you’re hallucinating. “If no one ever sneezed again, how long do you think it’d take you to notice?”

Yoongi must feel you looking this time, because he offers up a dead stare in return. While Taehyung and Hoseok debate their answers—

(“Well, I work in an office, so probably not long.”

“Ah. I work from home, but I think it’d be pretty obvious? Especially during allergy season.”

“Yeah, for sure. It’s one of those things you’d definitely notice. It’s like—you know when you’re cooking and finally turn off the vent hood and the quiet is a little disorienting? It’d be like that, I think. Like, you definitely—”

“You notice something’s absence more than you notice its presence.”

“Yeah! Yes, exactly.”)

—that dead stare of Yoongi’s morphs into something more mischievous, slow like molasses. He catches your eye, winks, and fakes a yawn.

Taehyung startles, like he forgot Yoongi had been sitting next to him the entire time. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse him,” he says, cheeks dusting pink. “Someone told him once he’d been a rock in a past life and it catches up with him every now and then.”

Seokjin lets out a high-pitched giggle, looking absolutely delighted at this. “A rock, huh? Fascinating. Please tell me all about it.”

“Well, I think a lot of people would assume igneous, but that’s always seemed a little shallow to me, you know? I think he’s more metamorphic—”

As Taehyung rambles on, Seokjin turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “What about you two? What do you think you were like in a past life?”

“He had to have been a monk or something,” you declare, poking the crater of one of Hoseok’s dimples. “He’s been hoarding good karma for centuries and cashed it all in for this lifetime.”

“Aish,” Hoseok replies, cheeks matching Taehyung’s as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I don’t know about all that. It’s just luck, isn’t it?”

You look at Hoseok. Really look at him—at the way his lips curl around his teeth as he tries not to laugh at the way Taehyung’s still going on about rocks; at the way he pouts and gags a little whenever he takes a sip of champagne; at the way the stars in his eyes turn to glitter when Seokjin gives him an opening to talk about his dog. You look at Hoseok and you think yeah, it could be luck, but it feels more monumental.

It feels predestined.

And you’re not sure what that means. Of course friendships can feel predestined; you’re not one to discount the importance of platonic relationships. You’re not sure what it means in the context of yours and Hoseok’s friendship. You’re not sure if your stomach hurt back when Hoseok got a girlfriend back in high school because it was predestined to be platonic.

You frown as you swirl the wine around your glass.

Truth be told, you’re not sure about much of anything right now.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, patting your thigh to get your attention. You’re in a dress. A nice one: silk, a slit up the side, drapes perfectly over the lines of your body and clings where it should. Does absolutely nothing to spare you from the heat of Hoseok’s skin through the fabric. “You okay?”

You’re fucked, is what you are.

“Yeah,” you reply, offering what you can only hope is a convincing smile. “Think I drank this a little too fast.”

“Do you want to go back to the house? We don’t have to stay. Taehyung’s still talking about the difference between limestone and sandstone, so I don’t think we’ll miss anything.”

You nod, dropping your voice to a hushed whisper. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. They look like they’re about ten seconds away from mixing up geography and geology and being really offended when I don’t know anything about rocks.”

The two of you stand, and Hoseok’s hand immediately moves to the small of your back. Warm, warm, warm, and you can’t convince yourself it’s the wine that’s making you lightheaded.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Taehyung chimes, looking pleased as punch at the sight of Hoseok’s hand at your back. Throws an elbow into Yoongi’s ribs. He doesn’t even flinch. “And where are the two of you going?”

“Uh, home?” Hoseok answers at the same time you say, “Fuck off, Taehyung,” because your face feels like it’s on fire and you’ve had enough of his ribbing.

Except, as it turns out, some amalgamation of home and fuck off sounds a whole lot like home, to fuck, and Taehyung might’ve been serious about the matchmaking thing, but even this kind of misunderstood forwardness has him choking on his sip of wine. Yoongi slaps at his back in the most patronizing way you’ve ever seen someone try to save another person from choking.

“Is he okay?” Hoseok asks, completely oblivious.

You shrug. “No. In so many ways.”

Through his choking, Taehyung manages a glare. “Takes one to know one,” he childishly responds, and you roll your eyes at the exact moment Seokjin grins and does a little wiggle, starts up a very enthusiastic fight, fight, fight! chant.

The thing is—Taehyung is drunk. You know he’s drunk, so him overriding Seokjin’s chant with one of his own—kiss, kiss, kiss!—certainly excuses and explains his behavior, it does absolutely nothingto extinguish the wildfire that’s sparked in your belly.

It’s a bad idea.

You and Hoseok have kissed before, when you were twelve and he was thirteen and he landed on you during a game of Spin the Bottle. Everyone around you had erupted into excited jeering, but the two of you shared a mortified look before he shuffled over on his hands and knees looking less like he was about to have his first kiss and more like he was being dragged to his death.

Looking back, that had been offensive, but he’d still puckered his lips and kissed the pout off your face all the same.

So it’s a bad idea, and you should tell Taehyung that the two of you have already kissed and to knock it off, because the second time you kiss shouldn’t only be to shut him up, but you’re both a little drunk in general and a lot drunk on the thought of redemption. If you pursed your lips the way he had fifteen years ago, leaned in close enough for him to smell your perfume, would he wear another mortified look? Or would he—

Fuck it, you think.

Because, once he realizes you’re serious, that you’re actually considering kissing him, the look he wears is not mortified. He looks a little awestruck—slightly dumb, if you’re being honest; definitely dazed—and it takes all that wildfire raging in your gut and unleashes it. Inspires just enough confidence to step closer, lean in; close enough to feel the warmth emanating from Hoseok’s skin, but still far enough for him to pull away if he wanted to.

Hoseok doesn’t want to.

And his hands are already at the small of your back, so it’s so easy to pull you closer. So easy to move them to your hips, grip a little tighter just in case you start to drift away. So easy to press his lips to yours and kiss the absolute life out of you.

You've kissed a lot of people over the span of fifteen years. None of them had lips as soft as Hoseok’s.

He must’ve done a lot of kissing, too, because the way he moves his mouth is sinful. Precise and confident, just a tease of his tongue. You can feel his smile against your lips and it nearly makes your knees buckle. Reminds you, more than the taste and smell of him, that it’s Hoseok you’re kissing, and the thought alone has you gripping at his dress shirt.

Any other time he’d complain about the wrinkles.

Not this one, though.

“Are you nervous?”

The question finds you halfway out of your dress. “Not really,” you answer. “I think my strap is stuck.”

A nervous laugh is punched out of him, but he moves to help you nonetheless. Gently touches your arm and spins you around, fingers ghosting along your skin as he untangles the strap and pushes it off your shoulder. The fabric pools on the floor, emerald and glittering, as you step out of it, and you laugh. It’s been three days since you and Hoseok kissed. The two of you have done a lot of kissing since then, and he’s still so hesitant; eyes still widen every time you lean in close, like he can’t believe it.

Hoseok is still so shy.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask, because keeping him talking is the best way to keep him out of his head. “It’s you.”

He whimpers, like that’s the worst possible reasoning you could’ve given him. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay if you are,” you say, turning around to fully face him, and Hoseok looks struck. Torn between the way his nerves are eating him alive and the sight of you in just a pair of lacy panties. “We can do whatever you want, Seok.”

“I—no.” He swallows hard. “No, no, I think—we should definitely… you know.” You quirk an eyebrow. “My dick is fighting for its life right now.”

You dare a glimpse downward. Hoseok’s dick doesn’t look like it’s fighting for its life, outlined and half-hard in his expensive trousers, but what do you know? “Taehyung asked me about your dick once.”

“What.”

“Well, not exactly. He’d asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you—”

Hoseok whimpers again. “Please do not tell me what your answer was.”

“—and I told him you were like a Ken doll.” At his questioning look, you clarify, “You know. Dickless. Smooth from the waist down.”

“Wow. Why would you tell me that? Not gonna lie, it’s a little emasc—”

“I might need to see it. For science.”

Hoseok startles. “M-my dick?”

“Yeah. For science,” you repeat. “Taehyung is gonna be thrilled. He called your dicklessness, and I quote, an L for the gay community.”

Your best friend seems to ponder this. His hands hover uselessly in the air, and it’s ten seconds, twenty—you think he might call the whole thing off, but then he shrugs and undoes his belt, the metal clanky in his haste. “For the gays,” he explains as he pushes his pants down his thighs.

“Of course,” you agree, nodding seriously. “They deserve it.”

“What else did Taehyung say?”

“Nothing much. Just that we need to get our shit together because we’re wasting some really good windows to fuck against.”

Hoseok doesn’t fuck you against the windows the first time.

The first time is slow and unhurried. Because it’s Hoseok, he lights a candle and the two of you take your time touching, learning, shaking off the dregs of apprehension. He flushes crimson and nearly does a runner anytime something goes less than perfectly, and it’s so endearing you have to stop yourself from sinking through the mattress under the weight of all your affection.

The second time is all raw, desperate need. After a day of sly smiles reserved only for you, Hoseok meets you in the bathroom at the end of another night. There’s a spot of toothpaste on your sleep shirt that he disregards at the sight of your bare legs. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and then there’s only enough time for anticipation to start simmering beneath your skin before he’s moving.

(Technically, the third time is only a few hours later. Just like it has everyday since you arrived, your alarm goes off at six sharp, time for yoga, but instead of ushering you out of bed, Hoseok hits the snooze button and pulls you closer. Fits himself to your back and slides your panties to the side, speaks an is this okay? in his impossibly deep morning voice, and then you’re nodding your head and he’s pushing inside.)

Now, though—

Nerves have been shaken off. Another weird dinner has been sat through to which you’d worn a two-piece outfit, the top cropped just enough to show off a strip of skin—modest enough for the motley crew you share your evenings with, but apparently scandalous enough to drive Hoseok insane. He’s all barely-contained energy beside you, hand gripping your thigh, not paying a lick of attention to the conversation.

You lean over, speak the question just below his ear. “You okay?” Goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

“We need to leave right now.”

“Really? Why? You aren’t having a good time?”

Hoseok makes you pay for your smart mouth. Has you pressed against the expanse of windows in your bedroom, stripped down to just your underwear and the top he insisted you keep on, only your shoulders pressed against the glass. Presses wet, open-mouth kisses along your calves, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and then he’s canting your hips forward to nip at you over your underwear. More silk and lace—thin enough to feel the warmth of his breath, then nothing but warmth when he licks a stripe up your folds, spit seeping through the fabric.

“Fuck.”

He does it once, twice more before he leans back, refuses to meet your gaze. Your brows furrow because your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging as you try to get him to look up at you, wanting to see the evidence of your arousal on his face, but then he’s smirking out of the side of his mouth, hands reaching for your underwear.

You register the cold air of the room on your skin before the sound of fabric ripping.

Then you’re saying, “What the fuck, Hobi, did you just—” and he’s laughing as he nods, not a care in the world except getting his mouth back on you. He licks and sucks until you’re nearly trembling with the need to come, begging him to let you, and you think if you were anyone else he’d drag it out longer. Make you beg a little more. But regardless of whatever he’s told himself over the years in order to cope, Hoseok can’t deny you anything, so he presses two fingers inside, right on the spot that whites out your vision.

He touches himself to the sight of your orgasm.

Rolls the condom on. Runs his cock through your folds, tells you to slick him up. As he presses inside again, crowding close, breath fogging the glass behind you, he tells you to thank Taehyung for the idea.

You’re gonna have to thank him for a whole lot more than that.

In hindsight, you should’ve known Namjoon was nothing more than a dirty little schemer.

There’s three days left of your stay, and the question had been nagging at you ever since you cut through the reception area to get to the meditation class you were running late for. Jimin, of course, gave you shit for it: wordlessly, because he was busy checking in a man with far too much luggage. A man who was checking in alone, and that was not a thing, so far as you were aware, so your curiosity was to be expected.

“Can I just ask,” you say, once again in Jimin’s strange little room behind the beaded curtain. “Why a couple’s retreat?”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t it less effective for Seokjin’s weird cult? Like, statistically speaking, you’ve got to be more likely to recruit single people, right?”

“Huh?”

You blink. “What part is confusing you? And don’t say the cult, because I had that pegged on, like, day three.”

“No,” Jimin agrees quickly, “Seokjin is definitely officiating a cult. I just—why do you think this is a couple’s retreat?”

“Uh, because Namjoon said it was? That’s why me and Hoseok are faking being a couple—”

“Were. Were faking.”

“—and it just sort of made sense, considering the people who showed up after us were literally a couple.”

Jimin sighs, schools his expression to the one he always uses when he has to be condescending and speak to you as if you’re a woefully stupid child. “I don’t know who Namjoon is, but I’m assuming he lied in order to get you two to do… exactly what you’ve done.”

“What.”

“This isn’t a couple’s retreat, buttercup, just a regular ol’ wellness one.”

“That Seokjin also uses as his cult recruitment headquarters.”

“Yep.”

“I feel betrayed.”

“Pisces usually do.”

“Excuse me—”

“You’re excused,” he dismisses, shooing you out of his closet.

Despite his innocent nature, Hoseok isn’t nearly as shocked as you to learn Namjoon deceived him.

That’s life, I guess, was all he’d said, the picture of comfort and nonchalance as he lounged in bed, wrapped in a fluffy robe, arm behind his head like a king. You had been shocked—no longer at the betrayal, but at Hoseok’s quick acceptance of it. Hoseok from a month ago would’ve been flustered and on the brink of a meltdown. Hoseok today just shrugs it off.

“I’m just saying.” He dangles a stem of grapes over his mouth like an asshole. “Jimin called it a wellness retreat, right? I didn’t get roped into Seokjin’s cult and we’re… well, whatever we are, so a win is a win. Seems like wellness to me.”

“Whatever we are,” you mimic, pitching Hoseok’s voice up a dozen octaves. “Wow, how romantic.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, pats the spot next to him on the bed. “If you’d like to come over here, we can have the highly-anticipated ‘what are we’ discussion that no one in the history of human relationships has ever once dreaded having.”

You wave him off. “No need. It’s you, and I trust you, so I don’t think we’re going to go back home and you’re going to write this off as a weird forced proximity thing and ghost me.” You finish the application of your facemask, laughing to yourself at Hoseok’s offended scoff. “Besides, constantly having to defend you from Rose Emoji and Hammer and Sickle Twitter is the pinnacle of devotion and love. That’s the kinda shit that forms a trauma bond.”

“For my peace of mind, then.”

“Fine. Hoseok, I love you dearly as my best friend and I’m probably halfway in love with you as a romantic partner, and even though this vacation has been incredible and rewarding and you are very good at sex, I am also very much looking forward to having my own space again because you are almost impossible to live with.” You roll your lips at the sour expression marring his face. “That said: you still owe me dinner at the Brazilian spot near your office, so I would like it very much if you took me there as a date. You can tell Namjoon I’m your girlfriend if you wish.”

“And are you?”

“Ugh. Of course I am, Hobi. What do you take me for? You think I’m the kind of woman who agrees to spend a month in the rainforest and almost get roped into some sketchy cult with anyone who asks?”

“Well, I don’t know! Maybe!”

“You’re impossible. Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

At this, Hoseok’s face lights up so bright it puts the sun to shame. Smiles so big you can hardly believe it. “I would love nothing more.”

During your last group meal, Seokjin invites the new guy to join you.

Taehyung is enthralled immediately, gesturing for him to take the empty seat to his left. “Hello, nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung and this is Min Yoongi. Are you here for the wellness retreat part or the cult part?”

Seokjin chokes on a slice of mango.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim Taehyung. I’m Park Bogum,” the man responds. “I’m here for the cult part.”

Seokjin promptly stops choking.

Saying goodbye to this place, these people, is bittersweet.

The last four weeks have undoubtedly been the weirdest of your life, but they’ve more than made up for it with what you’ve been given in return: a blossoming relationship with Hoseok, Taehyung and Yoongi’s friendship. Even Jimin and Jungkook come to see you off, and Jimin surprises you by wrapping you in a tight hug, assuring you that you’ll still be his second-favorite Pisces long after you’re gone.

“Wow, rude. Who’s the first?”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? How is he your favorite? He doesn’t talk!”

Jimin smirks, smug and patronizing. “Exactly. Have a safe trip, buttercup.”

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t say much at all. You suspect he showed up only to look hot and catapult Hoseok into his final sexuality crisis, and that suspicion is confirmed when he leans against the wall and pushes his hair away from his forehead. The sound that comes out of Hoseok is part whimper, part pain and suffering, and truly catastrophic for his ego.

“Get it together,” you plead, but it falls on deaf ears. Hoseok is in a Jungkook-induced haze until you’re halfway to the airport, Taehyung chattering the entire way.

And then—

And then.

“Well, that was fucking weird, huh?” Yoongi asks.

Hoseok is running late.

He’s gotten better at equalizing his work-life balance since returning from your trip, but he still gets held up sometimes. A lot to catch up on, he’d said, and you can understand that. He’d spent his first week back doing nothing but haranguing Namjoon, so that surely ate up a lot of time.

Still, he’s never been quite this late.

The waitstaff are looking at you with concern. They used to look at you only to see if your water needed topping up, so this is an unfortunate development, especially for someone who looks as you currently do. Any person in this overpriced Brazilian steakhouse would be honored to even sit at the same table as you, let alone be able to call you their date, so Hoseok really has a lot of nerve.

You’re halfway to telling him as much over a very angry text message when he appears in front of you, face flushed, chest heaving, hairline dotted with sweat. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Got a little caught up.”

“No shit,” you whisper-yell, “that waiter over there looked like he was about ready to call the cops on me. I probably can’t even afford the water in this place.”

Hoseok grimaces. “In my defense, I have a very good reason.”

“Oh yeah?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. “And what is that?”

Wordlessly, Hoseok hands over a garishly orange shopping bag emblazoned with a very familiar logo and brand name. Suddenly, it feels impossible to breathe. “You didn’t. Hobi, tell me you didn’t—”

“You know how much bullshit you have to go through for one of those things? God, I had to put in a request. Not to mention it was like fourteenseparate credit checks…”

You tune him out. Instead, you peek inside the bag with what you can only describe as pure dread. Not at the implication, because that has you thrumming with joy and affection, but at the cost of—

“You got me a Birkin.”

Hoseok looks at you like you’ve sprouted a second head. “Um. That’s what you said you wanted, right?”

“You said you weren’t spending that much money on anyone who isn’t your future spouse.”

The look doesn’t budge. “Yeah? I’m clearly not following.”

“When did you put in the request?” If your voice is audibly waterlogged, Hoseok doesn’t mention it, but you can feel the tears pooling at your lash line nonetheless.

The confusion finally clears and gives way to another brilliant smile. A little bashful, too, because he hides behind the menu and refuses to look at you. Says something you don’t catch, can’t hear over the dim chatter of this restaurant, and he groans in pleased faux-annoyance when you tell him to repeat himself.

“I said… I put it in the night you kissed me.”

It feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. “You’ve known that long?”

And Hoseok—Hoseok ducks behind the menu again, but this time you can hear him loud and clear: “I’ve known a lot longer than that.”

author's note pt. 2: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, any reblogs are greatly appreciated and my inbox is always open for feedback. ♡

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hoseok fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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downbad4yoongi · 4 months

Text

Merry and Mended

🎄Merry and Mended

🎄Alpha!Yoongi x Omega!Taehyung

🎄AU/Genre: holiday fluff, strangers to lovers, a/b/o

🎄Warnings: smut

🎄Rating: MA

🎄Word count: 8536

Wrote this as a birthday gift to myself, and as a part of @bangtanwritershq Holiday Wish List December Event.

I love a good Taegi 🥰 Enjoy your holidays.

(Thank you to my beta readers, @moonleeai & @colormepurplex2. Thank you, @cherrysoulth, for my beautiful banner.)

Yoongi’s head jerks up as the store is filled with a cacophony of tin cans crashing to the floor. He straightens from where he was slouching on a stool behind the counter, sets down his book, and moves toward the front of the store to discover the cause of the commotion. He shuffles toward the front, his nose wrinkling as he picks up on the lightly burnt scent of a distressed omega. It doesn’t take long to figure out what the crashing sound was when his foot connects with a Sterno can that strayed a bit too far from the rest.

With a furrowed brow, the alpha rounds the aisle and sees a man desperately scrambling to pick up the fallen merchandise. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side; he is sure he has never seen this man in town before. They don’t get many strangers out this way.

Yoongi clears his throat to capture the stranger’s attention. The man’s head snaps up, his fluffy dark brown curls falling into widened eyes. Anything Yoongi was going to say stalls in his mind, leaving him there to stare at one of the most gorgeous people he has ever seen.

The man stands up, arms full of tin cans, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to look at–” he looks over his shoulder, motioning back behind him, causing a few of the cans he gathered to slip out of his arms. He winces, an embarrassed blush spreading across smooth, golden skin.

The omega’s movements cause the air around him to stir, the currents carrying his scent to Yoongi. His senses pick up on the subtle chamomile, albeit tinged from his worry, smell surrounding the omega. Yoongi blinks at him silently, a bit disoriented by the memories that scent brings up for him. This complete stranger reminds him of when his mother would brew him a cup of tea whenever he wasn’t feeling his best to soothe him. He snaps out of it only when the man’s expression goes from contrite to worried.

“Um, it’s okay. Honestly, it was a bit too quiet this week. Needed something to liven things up.” Inhaling deeply, soaking up more of the comforting scent emanating from the man, Yoongi stoops to gather the Sterno tins into a central location before reassembling the display. His hands move carefully while trying to concentrate on controlling his own scent, not wanting it to flare and give away the confusing emotions swirling within.

The omega stoops down with him and places the tins he was holding on the pile that Yoongi began accumulating. A deep chuckle rumbles out of the stranger as he shoots Yoongi a boxy smile, “Well then, I am happy I could be of service.”

A light blush perfuses across the apples of Yoongi’s pale cheeks, his fingers tightening on the can in his hand, his own cedar scent saturating the air to mix with the gentle one surrounding the other man. Fuck, even his smile is beautiful. Yoongi tears his eyes away, quickly sweeping up the last few errant cans and stands. The man stands with him, his camel duster falling to its full length, leaving only the bottom half of a pair of black slacks and shiny loafers in view.

“So I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you just stopping through?”

The man cocks an eyebrow and sarcastically quips, “Oh, do you know everyone who lives around here?”

“Yeah, I do,” Yoongi retorts, a deadpan expression on his face.

He scoffs, “Really?”

“Really. Welcome to my general store. This store has been in my family's hands for eighty years, and we’ve lived in this town that entire time. I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi.”

The man blinks sheepishly, “I seem to be on a roll with making things awkward…” He scrunches his face up before shaking his arms and thrusting his hand toward Yoongi. “I’m Kim Taehyung, and yes, I am very new in town.”

Yoongi slides his hand into Taehyung’s grip and shakes the proffered hand. Both of their scents spiking at the contact. “Welcome to town. What were you needing from here before you destroyed my display?”

“Yah! I apologized for that, and you accepted the apology,” Taehyung huffs.

“I’m prone to changing my mind.” Yoongi sweeps the edges of his red plaid flannel back and shoves his hands into his black jeans. “Can I help you find something in particular?”

Taehyung purses his lips, studying Yoongi for a beat before spinning to motion at the aisle behind him. “I was trying to choose a space heater. The heat in my place doesn’t seem to work.”

Yoongi maneuvers around Taehyung and eyes the selection on the shelf. He slaps his hand on the top of one of the boxes, “This one would be best for heating mid to large areas.” Yoongi’s eyes flick away, his teeth pulling at the dry skin of his lip. “Or I could come and fix your heat for you…”

Taehyung feels his brows disappear into his hairline and can’t help the sassy comment that flows from his lips, “Are you the town’s handyman, too?”

Yoongi’s lips twist into a wry smile. “No. I just thought, um, that I could maybe help.”

“That’s really kind of you. When would you be able to come by?” Taehyung questions.

“Tomorrow?” Yoongi suggests, “The store is closed on Sundays, so that would be best for me.”

Taehyung’s head bobs, “Honestly, the sooner the better. While I love a good popsicle, I personally don’t enjoy being turned into one.”

The truck eases to a stop in front of the quaint red house at the end of the street. Yoongi squints out of the window at the structure. He recognizes the house as belonging to the Kims, an adorable elderly couple who mostly kept to themselves, as he shuts off the engine, still contemplating why he offered to help this stranger.

He is not a morning person, and he is known for not being the friendliest toward strangers. It really doesn’t make sense that he is here and outside before noon. He picks up his iced coffee in one hand and pushes the door open with the other before sliding out of the cab of the truck. He scowls as the cold air envelopes him and seeps through the layers of his puffy winter jacket and hoodie. He reaches into the bed, hefting his toolbox over the side, and starts lugging it up toward the front door, his scowl deepening with each freezing step.

Huddling in on himself, he waits for Taehyung to answer his knocks on the door, internally cursing himself for this dumb idea; so what if this man reminds him of home. After what feels like an ice age, the white door opens to reveal a drowsy-looking Taehyung in an oversized green hoodie, black lounge pants, and sherpa-lined slippers.

The scowl on Yoongi’s face evaporates as he takes in Taehyung’s messy bed hair and puffy sleep face. The earthy notes of chamomile hang heavy in the air. Oh, this is why he is out here freezing his nuts off. “Hi.”

Taehyung squints and just looks at him for a beat before clearing the sleep from his throat. “Good morning. Sorry, I forgot you were going to come by today, or at least I didn’t think it would be this early.” Taehyung’s deep timbre washes over Yoongi, pulling him into his aura even more.

“Oh well. I was up, so here I am,” Yoongi responds flatly.

Taehyung backs up, opening the door wider, “Come on in.” He swiftly closes the door once Yoongi has cleared the entrance, shutting out the winter weather. As soon as he steps inside, the soothing herbal aroma envelopes him like a warm embrace.

“I would say it’s good to be out of the cold, but it really isn’t much warmer in here. Your heat truly is broken.”

“And yet, you are drinking an iced coffee,” Taehyung motions at the clear plastic cup held in Yoongi’s fingerless gloved hand.

Yoongi looks from his coffee to Taehyung, “Your point?”

Taehyung opens his mouth but quickly shuts it again, shaking his head. “Um, let me show you where things are.” Taehyung spins on his heel and leads Yoongi through the house and to the hall thermostat. “You have to start here, no?”

Yoongi nods in affirmation, “Yeah, this is the first step.” Yoongi sets his coffee down and slips out of his winter jacket before peering at the wall thermostat and fiddling with different settings. When that doesn’t yield a result, he asks Taehyung where his breaker box is and is guided to a storage closet deeper inside the house. Opening the metal door, he examines the breaker switches and confirms none are tripped, and everything should operate normally.

“Where’s your furnace?” Yoongi asks as he shuts and latches the breaker box door.

Taehyung jerks his head behind him, motioning further toward the back of the house. “Closet near the back of the house.”

Yoongi follows Taehyung to the next location and pulls open the closet door. He takes in the small space before squatting down in front of the furnace in the corner.

Taehyung leans against the open door and watches as Yoongi stoops down to look at the unit. He locates the power switch and confirms it is in the ‘on’ position. Yoongi’s mouth thins into a firm line as he runs his fingers along the seam of the furnace door. He leans closer to the furnace door, eyes narrowing, sliding his hand to the handle, jiggling it a tad. That confirms his suspicion; he opens the door and then firmly shuts it again.

“What was that for?” Taehyung pipes up over his shoulder, clearly confused. Before Yoongi can respond, a loud shuddering sound is heard through the house, followed by a low hissing.

Yoongi glances over his shoulder at Taehyung, “That was to turn your heat back on.” Yoongi straightens back up, brushing his hands off on his ripped jeans. “The door to your furnace wasn’t shut all the way, and the failsafe was triggered. When the failsafe is on, the furnace won’t function as a precaution.”

Understanding dawns on Taehyung’s face as he processes what Yoongi is saying. “Oh! I guess I could have searched that on Naver for myself,” he says sheepishly.

Yoongi shrugs and takes a sip from his straw. “Probably.” He watches Taehyung chew on his lower lip. “But I’m glad I could help.”

Taehyung peers at Yoongi through the fringe of his hair, gauging how sincere his words are before letting a small smile spread across his lips. “Can I repay you with breakfast?”

“You cook?”

Silence remains for a beat. “Um. Not very well?”

Yoongi’s lips lift in a smirk on one side, and he throws out a lifeline. “Lucy’s in town makes a wonderful breakfast. We could just go there?”

Relief sweeps through Taehyung’s eyes, “My treat.” He starts backing down the hallway toward one of the open bedroom doors. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right out.”

The bell chimes loudly as the diner door swings open, and the two of them rush in out of the cold. As they stomp the snow from their shoes, Taehyung looks around the interior. “Oh!”

The town’s diner has quintessential 50s-themed decor and makes its best impression of a Lucille Ball shrine. Yoongi smirks, “Ahjumma is a fan.” Yoongi veers off to the right and slides into the third raised booth, settling into the vinyl seat.

Taehyung follows, “That is putting it mildly.” His eyes still bouncing around the restaurant as Yoongi sets the menu in front of him. Eventually, Taehyung pulls his gaze back to Yoongi, who has been sitting there watching him with an amused expression, “What?”

Yoongi shakes his head slightly, “I just haven’t had many opportunities to experience the places I’ve known my entire life through someone new.”

“So this has always been decorated like this?”

“Mhmm, though briefly, very briefly, she contemplated redecorating when she discovered Magnum P.I. Tom Selleck didn’t try hard enough to flip her in the end.”

Taehyung covers his mouth with his large palm, muffling his giggle as he listens to Yoongi’s story. The overhead light haloing his dark curls just right, Yoongi can’t help but stare and trace the way the harsh diner lights perfectly highlight the angles of Taehyung’s face.

“Yoongi-yah! Where have you been? You haven’t been visiting as often as you should be.”

Yoongi is snapped out of his reverie at the admonishment and looks as a petite beta in her early sixties sidles up to their table.

Taehyung’s eyes bounce back and forth between Yoongi and the newcomer. Yoongi’s lips screw to the side at the gentle scolding as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Aish, ajumma, I have been busy with the store.”

With a smack of her pad to his shoulder, “Nonsense! That store runs itself at this point. You can’t avoid him forever, you know?”

Taehyung’s brows lift slightly at that, wondering who they are talking about. Yoongi ducks his head, “I’m not avoiding him.”

“Could have fooled me.” She frowns at him for a moment more before turning to Taehyung with a bright smile, “Hello there! You’re new. I know everyone in this town; who are you?”

Taehyung blinks up at her a few times, “I’m Kim Taehyung, and this is my first time visiting your lovely establishment.”

“Of course it is. I would remember such a handsome face as yours. I’m Mrs. Kim.” Her brows furrow as she looks at Taehyung harder, “Any relation to the Kims out on Whale Drive?”

Taehyung nods, “They’re my grandparents. I’m taking care of their house as they transition to an assisted living facility.”

“No!”

“Yes, unfortunately, the house's upkeep just got a bit too much for them. I’m the only relative left, so here I am.” Yoongi listens to the exchange silently, processing this new information.

Mrs. Kim tsks under her breath. “You are a good grandson.” She pats his shoulder, “You keep me updated, okay?” Taehyung nods silently. “Good. Now, what can I get you?”

“Oh!” Taehyung’s eyes drop to the plastic menu before him and quickly scans it. He jabs his finger against the menu, “Dakjuk, please.” Mrs. Kim nods and swipes the menu from in front of him, quickly turning and leaving them again, the subtle hint of an apple orchard left behind by the beta.

“I di–”

“She–”

They both halt, looking at each other before Yoongi motions for Taehyung to go first.

“She didn’t take your order.”

“Mmm, ajumma brings me what she wants to feed me.”

Taehyung’s head tilts to the side, amused by the straightforward response. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Um, I didn’t know you were the Kim's grandson. They didn’t talk much about their family.”

Taehyung gives a wry smile, “Not much to talk about. It’s just me. I worked in Seoul and would visit when I could, which wasn’t often.”

“Wh-” Yoongi clears his throat, “When do you have to go back?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Don’t you have a job and a life to return to?”

“I quit. I couldn’t churn away at the machine any longer.”

“Okay, but what about your life in Seoul?”

“What life? I spent most of my time at work. I spent the little time I had outside of work with… someone who used to matter, but that’s in the past now.”

Yoongi blinks at him and can’t help the spark of curiosity flicking to life in his chest. “Why don’t they matter anymore?”

Taehyung gives the saddest smile Yoongi has ever seen, his gentle chamomile scent wilting a little, “I’ll tell mine when you tell yours.”

A plastic straw is shoved under Yoongi’s nose, capturing his attention. He sets down the guitar he is repairing and looks up to find Taehyung offering him an iced coffee with a boxy grin. “Hi, hyung!”

“Taehyung. What are you here for this time?” Yoongi sips through the straw, humming at the rich, bitter taste of coffee washing over his tongue. This has become a routine for them. For the past couple of weeks now, several days out of the week, Taehyung shows up with an iced coffee for Yoongi and the ploy that he just remembered that he needed to buy something he forgot.

Granted, Yoongi didn’t catch on that it was a ploy until Taehyung came in to purchase a single screwdriver, then the next day he was back to purchase a wrench, then a hammer… Yoongi had suggested he just buy a toolbox, but Taehyung had insisted that he didn’t need one and then proceeded to purchase a set of pliers. So now Yoongi just plays along with this little game just to see how far it will go.

Taehyung rocks back on his heels, the sweet aroma of chamomile swirling around him, and pulls the hand he was holding behind his back out in front of him, holding a small container of nails. “Just this for today.”

Yoongi blinks slowly at him, “Is your plan to buy every item in my store, one thing at a time? If this is your villain origin story, I gotta tell you it needs work.”

Taehyung grins mischievously, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he meets Yoongi's gaze. "Oh, you caught on to my evil plan already? I guess I'll have to devise a more diabolical scheme," he says playfully, his eyes twinkling with humor. "But for now, let's just stick to one item at a time. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

Yoongi tongues the inside of his cheek, amused, “So what are the nails for?”

Taehyung winks at Yoongi before turning his attention back to the container of nails, examining them with feigned seriousness. "These nails? They're special. You see, they're going to be the foundation of my grand master plan to take over the world... or maybe just build a really cool bookshelf. Haven't decided yet." Taehyung chuckles, enjoying the banter, and adds, "But seriously, I just thought it would be nice to have a reason to come back and see you again. Your store has this charm that's hard to resist."

“You caught me! You see, having a charming store is a side effect of my diabolical plan to lure in unsuspecting customers.” Yoongi smirks, leaning casually against the counter and crossing his arms. “If you’re going to keep showing up to buy one item at a time, you might as well come up with a convincing evil laugh. I mean, where’s the drama? The theatrics? You’re missing out on the full villain experience,” he adds with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Taehyung chuckles, "You've got a point. I guess I'll have to work on my evil laugh if I want to be a proper villain." He feigns a sinister chuckle, only to giggle a moment later. "Or maybe I'll stick to being the charming customer who keeps you on your toes." He takes a step closer, his playful expression turning into a more sincere smile. "Speaking of which, if you can handle my one-item-at-a-time takeover plan, how about we break the routine? How about you let me take you out for coffee or dinner sometime? I promise I won't make you sell me your entire inventory in one go." Taehyung winks, hoping the offer comes across as genuine and lighthearted.

Yoongi's eyes widen for a moment, surprised by the sudden turn of events, but then a small smirk plays on his lips. He tilts his head, considering Taehyung's proposition.

"Well, that's a plot twist I wasn't expecting in my villainous day." Yoongi chuckles, matching Taehyung's playful tone, the alpha’s warm and spicy scent spiking at the other man’s offer. With a thoughtful expression, he nods. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. But only if you promise to leave your world-domination plans at home for the night. When and where, villain?"

The omega’s lips spread into a boxy grin, “No promises on leaving the world domination plans at home, but I’ll try to keep them on a tight leash. How about dinner at Lucy’s tomorrow at 7 PM? I haven’t tasted ajumma’s dinner menu yet.”

Yoongi smirks, his interest piqued by Taehyung's choice. "Lucy's, huh? Ahjumma does work wonders in the kitchen, so I can't blame you for wanting to try it out. Dinner it is. And as for the world domination plans, I suppose a tight leash will have to do. We wouldn't want to scare the other diners away with our diabolical schemes." He winks playfully at Taehyung. "Alright then, partner in crime. Lucy's it is."

Yoongi chuckles, leaning onto the table, amused at Taehyung’s antics. His nose twitches pleasantly as it picks up the gentle scent of chamomile mixing with his cedar's warm, spicy aroma. He has only known the omega for a few weeks but feels utterly comfortable with the man.

The dinner date at Lucy’s has been going well; there’s laughter, good food, and engaging conversation. Ahjumma immediately started gushing over them when they stepped into the restaurant and realized that they were there on a date. The beta has been doting on them all night and seems to have curated a special menu for them on the fly.

“So, what’s the verdict on dinner at Lucy’s?” Yoongi asks as he gathers a spoonful of strawberry bingsu from their shared bowl.

Taehyung hums, swallowing his spoonful, “Honestly, it has not disappointed. Everything has been absolutely delicious. Lucy’s may just be my new favorite spot.”

Yoongi gives the other man a gummy smile, “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we should start a Lucy’s fan club.” Taehyung claps his hands together, giggling at the idea.

That laugh may be one of Yoongi’s new favorite sounds. He twirls his spoon in the frozen treat, pondering what else he can say to tease more of it out.

Taehyung’s eyes light up as ajumma steps out of the kitchen and quickly waves the older beta over. “How would you like your own personal fan club?”

“Made up of the two of you? I would be so lucky to have such handsome men devoted to me.” Her raspy chuckle mixes pleasantly with the omega’s huskier one.

“Then it’s decided. We are your devotees, ajumma!” Taehyung states brightly.

Yoongi’s cheeks ache as he watches the two of them tease each other. “The food was delicious. Thank you so much, ajumma, for making us such special treats,” Yoongi effuses. “I’ll take the check whenever you’re ready.”

She scoffs and brushes him off. “No, no. This is my treat.”

Yoongi shakes his head, protesting, “Yah, you can’t do that.”

She props her hands on her hips, “Yes, I can. If you insist, you can repay me by inviting me to the mating ceremony.”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at her words, and a similar blush is mirrored on Taehyung’s face. He clears his throat, “Um, well, thank you.”

She pats his shoulder and bids them both goodbye before bustling over to another table.

“I guess we weren’t the only ones to feel a connection then?” Taehyung quips, breaking the tension.

Yoongi’s eyes meet Taehyung’s warm brown ones, a soft smile playing across his lips, “I guess so. Want to get out of here?”

They slide out of the booth, Yoongi leading them out of the diner. Taehyung sidles up next to him as they step out onto the sidewalk. They linger there, the fresh air tinged with their anticipation of what could happen next.

There’s a palpable tension in the air, and neither are quite ready to say goodnight. They stand there, smiling at each other, the air charged with unspoken words. The small town has quieted down significantly in the evening hours, and in that moment, it feels like they are in a bubble all their own.

Yoongi clears his throat, “Listen, would you like a ride home?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Taehyung demures.

“Nonsense. It’s late. Let me give you a lift. I promise I don’t mind.”

Taehyung caves and agrees. They walk down the street, arms brushing each other with each step. Once they reach his truck, Yoongi rushes ahead a little to open the passenger door, holding it open for the omega.

Taehyung pauses briefly at the gesture, a tiny smile on his lips. “Thank you.” He brushes his fingers across the back of Yoongi’s hand as he slides into the cab.

Yoongi circles around the hood and climbs in on the other side. The drive to Taehyung’s house is silent. The quiet intimacy of the ride contrasts with the lively energy of their date.

As they reach Taehyung’s place, neither seems in a rush to part ways. The conversation becomes a bit more subdued, a mixture of shared laughter and more serious reflections on life.

Taehyung tilts his head against the headrest and sighs. “I should probably head inside. I had a great time tonight, Yoongi.”

“Me too, Tae.” A beat passes before Yoongi starts, “Oh–”

The omega’s hand covers the back of his own. “It’s okay. You can call me Tae.”

A tension eases out of Yoongi, and he flips his hand over, lacing their fingers together. “So, uh, maybe we can do this again? Another dinner, perhaps?”

Smiling, Tae leans closer, “I’d really like that, hyung.”

Their scents intermingle, adding to the intimacy of the moment. The soft glow from a nearby streetlamp casts a warm halo, illuminating the anticipation in Taehyung’s eyes. Yoongi feels a pull and leans in closer, too.

Yoongi’s fingers find their way to the side of the other man’s neck, his touch gentle yet firm. The warmth of his thumb tracing the line of Taehyung’s jaw. “Tae,” he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Taehyung’s response is a quick, eager nod. The warmth of his breath against Yoongi’s lips is a silent affirmation, and the tension between them escalates as the distance between them disappears. Their lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, a blend of warmth and sweetness that speaks of unspoken desires.

As their kiss deepens, the world around them fades into the background, leaving only their shared connection. Time seems to stand still in that moment, the quiet acknowledgment of something new and exciting unfolding between them.

The kiss lingers, a promise of the possibilities ahead, and when they finally pull away, their eyes meet with a newfound understanding. They share a smile and bask in the wonder of the start of something beautiful.

It’s been a few weeks, and each day gets better. The initial spark from their first date has developed into a deeper connection. Yoongi marvels that in such a short amount of time, the sweet omega has become a staple in his life. Their days are intertwined with laughter, shared secrets, and a growing sense of intimacy.

Their routine is filled with moments, both ordinary and extraordinary. From lazy Sunday afternoons spent cuddling on the couch, exchanging soft kisses, and recounting the week's events to more adventurous endeavors like taking Taehyung ice skating for the first time at the local rink. Yoongi feels a sense of completeness in Taehyung’s company.

Their late-night conversations have become a cherished ritual; the quiet vulnerability shared in those moments is strengthening the bond that formed all those weeks ago. Taehyung has become Yoongi’s confidante, a source of comfort, and a partner in the beautiful dance of their blossoming relationship.

Yoongi sets down the box he brought back from the stock room as he hears his phone ring on the counter. His lips curl into a smile, his chest filling with warmth as he sees Tae’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey! Did you miss me already? We just had lunch an hour ago.” The alpha teases, the memory of their shared meal flashing in his mind.

“Hyung! Oh my god, you won’t believe what’s happening!” The panicked sound echoing through the receiver has Yoongi straightening from where he was slumped against the counter in alarm.

“What’s going on, Tae?”

“There’s water everywhere! I think there’s a leak under the kitchen sink. It’s like a waterfall in here.”

Even alone, Yoongi can’t help but release calming pheromones wanting to comfort the omega. “Okay, calm down. Do you know where your main water valve is?”

Tae’s frantic voice comes through even higher pitched. “No! I don’t know where that is. Everything is wet, and I’m freaking out. How do I make it stop?”

“Baby, it’s going to be okay. Do you know where your water heater is?”

“Um, um,” Taehyung stutters furiously, trying to remember the layout of the house. “I think so.”

“That’s good. Go to the water heater, and I’ll tell you what to do once you get there.”

Yoongi listens to Tae rush through the house, his breath coming in fast pants. “I’m here! I’m here! What do I do?”

“Do you see a valve anywhere?”

“Is it the handle near the back, halfway up the wall?”

“Yes! Right now, it should be sticking out perpendicular to the pipe. Turn it until it's parallel to the pipe.”

He listens to Taehyung fumble a bit before his voice returns through the phone. “Okay, I turned it. What now?”

“That should have turned the water off. Go and check to see if that stopped it.”

Yoongi listens to the omega rush back through the house. His voice this time is a bit calmer in relief, “It sounds like the water has stopped.” He whines loudly, “There is water everywhere, though, and it’s still spreading.”

Yoongi chuckles, his own energy calming at Taehyung’s relief. “But the main problem is done. Grab some towels, or whatever you have that is absorbent to help contain the mess. Crisis averted.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Well, now that we’ve conquered the great kitchen flood of 2023, maybe I should come over and check on what went wrong,” Yoongi teases.

Taehyung’s warm laugh sends shivers over Yoongi. “You’re always welcome, especially if you come with your toolbox.”

“Let me close the store, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

That’s how, on a late Friday afternoon, Yoongi finds himself at Taehyung’s house with his head underneath the kitchen sink.

Taehyung sits on the kitchen counter, watching anxiously. “So what happened? Why did my kitchen become a lake?”

Yoongi’s voice is a little echo-y as it reverberates around the hollow space, “Your pipe burst. I think water froze inside it when the temperature dropped and caused it to burst. Unfortunately, it just looks like your pipes are old, and time took its toll.”

Taehyung hangs his head, groaning. “Old pipes, huh? I never thought they’d give up on me like this.”

“It happens. Especially with the winter chill, but hey, the good news is we caught it early, and it could have been much worse.” Yoongi continues to work, his hands deftly maneuvering to fix the problem.

“How do you even know what you are doing?” Taehyung asks curiously.

Yoongi chuckles, “Years of being a responsible adult, Tae. You pick up a thing or two.”

Playfully, Taehyung quips, “I guess I should add ‘adulting’ to my list of skills to brush up on.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ll get the hang of it eventually,” Yoongi tosses back. He tinkers silently for a few minutes before adding, “You know, dealing with home emergencies together is practically a relationship milestone.”

Taehyung hums, “Is that so?”

“I think so. I’ll take any excuse to spend more time with you.”

Yoongi can’t see the other man’s blush, but he smells the spike in the omega’s chamomile scent. It distracts him just enough that he wrenches a pipe a little too hard, sending the water remaining in the pipe straight onto him.

“Shit!” He gasps, jerking out from under the sink, and wipes at his face. He clamors to his feet, his white shirt soaked with stale pipe water.

The omega’s eyes widen as he hops off the counter, rushing over to the alpha. Taehyung’s scent sours as, in a flurry of motions, he pulls at Yoongi’s shirt until it is yanked over his head.

Before Yoongi knows it, he is standing shirtless under the fluorescent glare of the kitchen light—the bright light casting shadows in the dips and hollows of his bare chest. The wet fabric of his shirt hangs limply in the other man’s fist as they both pause.

Taehyung’s lips part on his next exhale as his eyes flicker over the vast expanse of bare skin that is exposed. A new tension fills the air as the previous sharp scent from the omega softens and sweetens, Yoongi’s own scent growing fresher to mix with the omega’s. A beat passes with them both frozen, only inches separating them.

Between one breath and the next, the two collide. The sodden fabric slips through Taehyung’s fingers, landing on the cool tile floor with a wet slap. Swiftly, the omega trades the clammy chill of the wet cloth for the comforting warmth and silkiness of the alpha’s exposed skin. As Yoongi’s hands assertively find their place on Taehyung’s hips, he effortlessly pulls the other man closer while Taehyung’s large palms tenderly encircle Yoongi’s shoulders.

Their lips hover closer, breath buffeting against parted lips. Even at this distance, Yoongi’s eyes search the other’s, seeking acceptance before crashing his lips against the omega’s. Taehyung’s arms circle the alpha tighter, sealing their lips together in a searing kiss.

A deep purr resonates through the alpha’s chest as he tilts his head, sliding their lips against each other. The rest of the world falls away as the building tension ebbs and flows around them. Taehyung rocks his hips forward, lips parting with a moan when he feels Yoongi’s growing length pressed against him.

Taking advantage of the opening, Yoongi presses forward, his tongue sweeping into the other man’s mouth. His own groan echoes as the omega’s sweet, floral chamomile scent washes over his palette. He doesn’t want to stop; he feels like he could kiss Taehyung forever.

As moments have seamlessly slipped away, the kitchen now holds a rich tapestry of their mingling scents. The air is saturated with the delicate freshness of chamomile, gracefully intertwining with the warm and subtly spiced essence of cedar. It blankets them comfortingly, a testament to their undeniable chemistry. Both men feel drawn inextricably to each other.

The air is thick with unspoken words, each touch and movement communicating more than language ever could. Yoongi’s hands, with firm pressure, run over Taehyung’s hips and lower back; his long fingers teasing lightly over the omega’s ass. They cling to each other even as they pull back, silently rubbing their noses along each other.

Taehyung rocks his hips forward again, his eyelids fluttering at the long, thick press of the alpha between them. His own body responding in kind and leaking into his briefs, the sweet, honeyed scent of slick tinging the air. The deep timbre of his voice breaks the silent tension in the air, “Please.”

Yoongi’s eyes darken at the omega’s whimper. “Please, what?”

Taehyung’s scent spikes, running his lip between his teeth as he meets Yoongi’s gaze before breathing, “Please, alpha.”

A wicked smile pulls at Yoogi’s lips, his hands sliding down and palming the round globes of the omega’s ass, pulling them tighter against each other. The kitchen fills with the sound of their lips smacking together as they crash back against the counter. The sharp edge digs into the omega’s back, causing him to whine into the alpha’s mouth.

Yoongi grips his ass and lifts, sliding Taehyung onto the countertop, their lips never parting. Taehyung’s hands slide down Yoongi’s chest until they reach the dark pinkish-brown nipples gracing his pecs. Taehyung slides his mouth away, grazing his teeth along the other’s jaw as he flicks the nubs.

Yoongi groans, digging his fingers into the omega’s hips. His head tips backward as pleasure zings down his spine. Taehyung chuckles, “Someone’s sensitive.”

The alpha’s head snaps upright, eyes sparking, “Two can play at this game.” Yoongi yanks Taehyung forward, pressing tighter in between his spread thighs. Their clothed cocks grinding against each other. It’s Taehyung’s turn to hang his head, moaning as the air thickens with the sweet scent of his slick. “You were saying?” Yoongi’s breath brushes the shell of the other’s ear.

Tae’s lustful gaze returns to Yoongi’s, “I’m saying that I need you, alpha.” Taehyung’s hands caress down the expanse of Yoongi’s abs until his fingers tease the man’s waistband, thumbing the button. A subtle nod from Yoongi has the man undoing the button snap and sliding down the zipper. Another groan is pulled from the alpha as the pressure around his cock eases.

The relief is only temporary because soon, the restrictive confines of his jeans is replaced with the firm clasp of Taehyung’s palm. Yoongi snaps his hips forward into the omega’s tight grip, the slide eased by his eagerly leaking tip. Taehyung mouths at the alpha’s neck, his tongue teasing in tight circles and nipping at his fair skin, marking him up.

The omega’s fist tightens as he speeds up his strokes, his wrist snapping at the height of each stroke. Yoongi’s fingers flex on Taehyung’s thighs as he moans louder. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung leaves a particular stinging nip along Yoongi’s neck. “Are you going to come for me?” He speeds up his strokes, the alpha’s hips snapping into the warm clasp. Taehyung’s other hand slides down to encircle the alpha’s base, his fist gripping firmly as the knot forms at the base of Yoongi’s cock.

Taehyung trails his lips back up the other’s neck, reaching Yoongi’s ear. He swirls his tongue around the lobe before sucking it into his mouth.

“Ahhhhh—” Yoongi cries out, hips stuttering as his length jerks in the omega’s fist, coating it in sticky, warm wetness. The omega presses gentle kisses to Yoongi’s neck, coaxing him down from his high. Yoongi slumps into the man’s arms, panting.

Yoongi nuzzles into Taehyung’s neck, inhaling the omega’s sweet scent but being cautious to avoid the scent gland. He works to regulate his breathing as the Taehyung’s grip on his knot remains steady. Only a few minutes pass before he’s trailing his lips along the dark caramel expanse of skin until he reaches Taehyung’s lips. Their lips gently move together, Yoongi’s high dissipating.

“Mmm, darling, you were so good for me.” Taehyung slips his hands from between them, his skin coated in the alpha’s pleasure. Eyeing him boldly, the omega slips two messy fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them until they are sucked clean.

The alpha’s nostrils flare at the bold gesture. He curls his fingers into the waistband of Taehyung’s jeans and yanks him forward, letting the younger man teeter on the edge for a moment before sliding him to his feet. “Someone made a mess,” his raspy voice filters between them.

Taehyung grins cheekily, reaching for the kitchen towel to clean the mess on his hands, “A delicious one.”

Yoongi’s thumb deftly releases the fastening of Taehyung’s pants, their lips crashing together again. The kiss is messy and deep, the omega whining into his mouth. Yoongi pulls back, sliding his lips down the omega’s neck. “That is not really how I saw that going.”

“Mmmm,” Tae murmurs, head leaning back, “It’s okay. I liked making you feel good.”

Yoongi leaves a stinging kiss at the base of Taehyung’s neck before pulling back. “Well, let me make you feel good now.” Yoongi slips Taehyung’s pants open and works the jeans down his hips. The heady aroma of the omega’s slick wafts between them as they're pushed down toward the floor. Yoongi’s eyes flutter close as he inhales deeply, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest.

Yoongi yanks harder, ripping the jeans off of the other man, taking his soaked briefs with them. Taehyung’s cock springs out, slapping up against his belly. Slick dripping down the omega’s thighs in thick lines.

Yoongi’s eyes are sharp as he takes in the wanton man before him. He shifts onto his knees, his long, knobby fingers trailing down his legs until they grip his thighs. Yoongi leans in, nostrils flaring as he breathes deep to soak in the addicting scent of the aroused omega. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the bare hip before him. His hands move around to cup the back of Taehyung’s knees, lifting one at a time to pull the pooled cloth from around his ankles.

The omega leans back against the counter, his fingers gripping the granite edge to steady him. His eyes are hooded as he looks down the length of his own body and watches as the alpha shifts one of his legs to rest on his shoulder.

The alpha trails stinging kisses up the inside of the omega’s thighs until his face nuzzles against Tae’s hard, straining cock. Yoongi swirls his tongue around the thick base of Taehyung’s cock, before leaving a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses up the length until he can circle his tongue around the leaking tip.

Taehyung sucks in a sharp inhale as his hips buck, pushing the leaking tip into the alpha’s mouth. Yoongi jerks his head back, tsking the omega under his breath. “Uh-uh. Who said you could do that?”

The omega’s cheeks flush with the admonishment, “Sorry, alpha.”

“Patience, baby.” Yoongi strokes his hard length with one hand as his other hand slips behind the omega to ease between wet cheeks. At the feel of his trembling rim, Yoongi moans deep in his chest, feeling how soaked Taehyung is. His extended finger circles, teasing the man’s hole. Yoongi slips Taehyung into his mouth as he simultaneously pushes one digit into the omega’s tight hole.

Curling his tongue around Taehyung’s leaking tip, Yoongi pumps his finger deeper. He teases the omega, pulling more syrupy, slick, and evocative sounds from the man above him. Soon, Yoongi is three fingers deep and is sliding Taehyung’s length in and out of his throat.

Taehyung’s head is thrown back, moaning to the ceiling. He buries his hands into the alpha’s hair as he tugs and pushes at his head. Pleasure surges through him. “Fuck…fuck, alpha! You’re making me feel so good.”

Yoongi hums around the girth stretching his throat, and sucks harder, swallowing around Taehyung’s cock. Yoongi’s slick-soaked hand scissors his fingers before surging deeper, targeting that spot deep inside the omega.

Taehyung’s eyes leak as he cries out, back arching as he comes down Yoongi’s throat. His cock spasms over and over as he is drained dry. Yoongi swallows every last drop and slowly pulls back, licking the omega clean as he goes.

Taehyung slumps against the counter, his arms trembling to hold him as he comes down from his high. Yoongi hums, pressing soft kisses along the other’s hip, gently slipping his fingers from inside him. He soothingly rubs the omega’s thigh as his other fingers slip inside his mouth to lick his fingers clean. Yoongi’s eyes flutter as the omega’s taste bursts across his tongue.

Taehyung takes a loud shuddering breath, “That…was unexpected.”

Yoongi presses his lips to the inside of the omega’s thigh, hiding his smile, “The best things usually are.”

Taehyung looks down at the alpha still kneeling in front of him, and cups the man’s cheek. “Yoongi, I need you to know…” he pauses, swallowing hard. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Yoongi leans into the warm touch, smiling as Tae’s thumb strokes across his cheek, “Tae, neither have I. But it feels right, doesn’t it?”

He slides the fingers of his other hand through the alpha’s soft black strands, “It does. It feels more than right; it feels like…home.”

The alpha’s eyes shutter, rolling his mouth to press the softest of kisses to his palm. “Yeah, it does.” Silence settles over them. The two let the intimacy of the moment and the weight of their words sink in.

“What does this mean for us?” Tae’s words are soft as they’re whispered into the silence.

Yoongi’s head tilts back to meet the deep brown eyes of the man he’s quickly falling for, “I don’t have all the answers, but I want to figure it out with you. Do you want the same?”

“I want us. Whatever that means.”

“Me too,” Yoongi breathes.

Their shared gaze is filled with an unspoken understanding that defines the moment they just had. They don’t know what is in store but are committed to exploring it together.

In the days that follow, Taehyung and Yoongi find themselves navigating the delicate waters of a burgeoning relationship. The small town, adorned with holiday decorations, adds an extra layer of magic to their newfound connection.

One chilly evening, as snowflakes gently descend from the sky, they stroll hand in hand through the twinkling lights of the town square. The air is crisp, filled with the festive scent of pine and the distant sounds of holiday carols.

Taehyung can’t contain the smile stretching his lips, “I can’t believe how beautiful this town is during the holidays.”

The omega’s boxy grin brings forth Yoongi’s own gummy smile. “It’s like something out of a storybook.”

Their fingers intertwine as they wander through the town’s festive markets, sampling sweet treats and sipping hot cocoa. The cozy warmth of the holiday atmosphere mirrors the growing warmth between them.

As they stroll through the markets, Taehyung feels a surge of emotion in his chest. The twinkling lights, the laughter around them, and the shared moments with Yoongi paint a picture of a perfect holiday season.

Tae tugs on their clasped hands, pulling them out of the flow of pedestrians. They step into a small alcove in front of a closed storefront. “Yoongi, you know, I’ve been thinking…”

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Yoongi gently encourages when the other pauses.

“Well, with Christmas just around the corner, I was wondering if… maybe you’d like to spend it with me?” The last part of the sentence said in a rush of one breath.

Yoongi’s lips part on a caught breath, his eyes softening fondly. “You’re inviting me to spend Christmas with you?”

Taehyung bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, I know it’s a bit last-minute, but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather share the holiday with.”

Yoongi steps closer, closing the space between them. The market fades away as the alpha looks at the omega with fondness. “Tae, I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”

The omega launches himself at Yoongi, his heart swelling with happiness. Their lips press together, the two filled with joy at the promised festivities. The lights around them seem to glow brighter as they lose themselves in each other.

As Christmas approaches, they find themselves caught up in the whirlwind of preparations. From decorating a small tree in Taehyung’s living room to sharing quiet moments by the fireplace, the holiday spirit seems to amplify their connection.

Yoongi places a handmade ornament on the tree. “This is nice. Really nice.”

Taehyung hums, “It is. And it’s only our first Christmas together.”

“I never thought decorating a tree could be this enjoyable.”

“It’s the company that makes it special,” Taehyung smiles.

Yoongi tilts his head in agreement. “These ornaments are beautiful, Tae.”

“It’s a tradition in my family. Each ornament tells a story. Now, these ornaments are a part of ours.”

Silence settles over them as they finish decorating and settle in front of the roaring fire. The glow of the tree haloing them in soft light as they cuddle under a shared blanket and admire their handiwork.

Each day is filled with a sweet memory; before they realize it, it’s Christmas Eve. That day, a light snowfall has dusted the town in a soft blanket of white. They sit before a roaring fire and exchange thoughtful gifts as laughter fills the room.

After their shared candle-lit dinner, they move to the porch and watch the slow drifting of the falling snow. The silence blankets them.

They stand like that in a drawn-out moment before Yoongi turns his head, nestling his lips into Tae’s soft, brown curls on the side of his head. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Taehyung leans into the alpha’s hold, “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

Under the winter sky, they share a tender kiss. A promise of more shared moments and the magic of the holidays weaving together to create another beautiful memory.

Epilogue - One year later

Yoongi scrunches his face and burrows deeper into his pillow, clinging to the last vestiges of slumber. The featherlight brush of lips along his bare shoulder isn’t deterred and continues its path across his shoulder and up his neck. Their trek slows to a stop behind his ear, settling there and pressing further into the space. Yoongi’s fingers tangle into the sheet as the pressure of those lips increases, sucking and pulling Yoongi out of sleep with a whine.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Taehyung whispers in his ear in a deep voice. Yoongi sinks back into Taehyung as the younger man wraps his arm around him, their fingers tangling together.

“Hmm, why are we awake?” Yoongi grumbles, eyes still closed.

Taehyung’s arm tightens around Yoongi, “I don’t think we should sleep away our second Christmas together.” Taehyung pats his chest one more time before pulling away with a kiss on his cheek. “Hurry up and meet me downstairs.”

He cards his hand through the wet strands of his hair as he lumbers down the wide staircase. Pausing at the base, nose rising in the air, sniffing out the delicious aroma of syrupy pancakes and crispy bacon. He lets his nose lead him toward the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the spread before him.

"How?”

Taehyung spins around, grinning, "Merry Christmas!”

Youngi's eyes bounce from one food-laden dish to the next. Confusion swirls through him, and while he had been teaching the omega how to cook, there's no way he had improved enough to make all of this.

Still dumbfounded, Yoongi accepts the champagne flute of mimosa from his love. He eventually pulls his gaze from the pile of food and stares at his love in awe.

"When did you make all of this? I was only in the shower for like 20 minutes.”

The words barely finish passing his lips when the other man doubles over, giggling uncontrollably. Yoongi just watches on, bemused.

After several moments, Tae regains control of himself and straightens.

Eyes still sparkling with laughter, his scent ethereal and wafting around them, Tae manages to answer. "Oh god, I wanted to fool you so bad, but I can't. You know I'm ajumma's favorite, and I wanted our second Christmas to be special. So why not have food from our favorite place?”

Yoongi remains frozen for a moment, then sweeps the omega into his arms. He kisses Taehyung soundly before resting their foreheads together. “My every day is special with you.”

#taegi fic #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bangtanwhq #bts fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bts #bts ff #min yoongi #kim taehyung #taegi #omegaverse #a/b/o #bts fluff #fluff

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taehyungfirst · 4 days

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Whoa, I was just reading the comments under a Taegi video and apparently many confirmed they saw an interview where Yoongi said he will always be on Tae's side because during one of the darkest periods in his life Tae held on super tight and would not let him go. Have you heard this?

I forgor the interview but it wouldn’t surprise me, Taehyung adores all of his hyungs tbh. He got a soft spot for all of them and you can see how sweet is Taegi dynamic. To not forget the famous long message that ended with an “I love you” and was sent to Taehyung and Jk only. Sweet sweet sweet!

#can u send me the video i’m curious now #ask #taegi

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nightswithkookmin · 1 year

Text

Bingo. And if you pay close attention to all of my takes on ships, you'd notice a pattern. I am drawn to ships where the dominant strong headed emotionally stunted almost damaged one reaches a breaking point to allow themselves be vulnerable around another and recieve love.

Jungkook is a taker, I like to see him give.

Tae is a giver, I like to see him take and recieve.

Jimin is a giver- I like to see him give, receive and take for reasons I'll explain later.

So if any of these are in a ship where they aren't doing any of what I desire to see in them, I'm not shipping that ship🙂

Personally I struggle with being vulnerable in my personal life. I say I want love and actively seek it but I struggle letting another person take care of me. I struggle being at the center of attention and being made a priority- yet that's what I deeply want.

Growing up I used to fight my mum whenever she did my laundry and I would sooner jump off a speeding train and break my legs than ask anyone for help.

In my relationships I'm always the one giving and yes I do attract narcissists and emotionally unavailable and noncommittal girls.

I struggled making friends cos I wouldn't let anyone close- not because I was afraid they would hurt me. But more so because I didn't want them to see just how much I am hurting. I can't do it. I don't want people to worry about me or feel sad because of the difficulties I struggle with.

The down side of empathizing with people is you start alienating yourself to protect others from the pain.

Shipping is a way I heal too. I learn from these people, take notes and practice how to be vulnerable with a partner- therapy is expensive please 🥴

I learn the emotional tools they employ to resolve conflicts and share their vulnerabilities with one another.

Once upon a time, if I had a disagreement with you we were done. Lost a lot of friends that way I stopped making friends all together. Until this dude I befriended told me after a fight, take tonight to cool off and when you done call me. Just because we have an argument don't mean our friendship is over.

Then I see Taegi talk about holding hands whenever they have an argument. Jimin explaining to Tae he's only trying to give him strength and push him to be a better him.

That changed my outlook on friends and relationships for ever. Now I don't tiptoe around people, I'm not afraid say what's on my mind, I'm not afraid to dissent or hold opposing opinions and no we don't have to agree on everything to have congruency.

It's why I hate people who berate and demonize shipping. Like any source of entertainment shipping can be therapeutic. And for same sex ships, it's a safe way to explore your sexuality or learn about your yourself and work through certain difficult emotions without necessarily putting yourself at risk.

Jimin, Tae are without a doubt the givers of the group. They give and give to the point it's borderline unhealthy- most of us struggle with this and it's important while we watch them navigate these emotional Situations that we have discourse around it, understand it and learn from it.

Hobi has healthy emotional boundaries. Namjoon, Hobi, Jin- in my opinion don't really seem to have questionable emotional attachments the way the Maknae line do. Suga walks a fine line but he's alright.

I like to see the givers take and the takers give. Thus, I am drawn to certain ships and repelled against others. Nothing personal tuktukkers.

I like when two givers are paired because they balance each other out. Two givers swiftly transform into sharers. A giver and taker however transforms into codependency especially if the taker enjoys taking whatever the givers has to give.

But its not always the case that a taker enjoys taking. If they enjoy taking from just about anyone and everyone that's just greediness.

where the taker is closed off to receiving or taking what the other has to offer you have nothing but a very one sided unrequited and even toxic dynamic.

For Kook, I think he is aware of this fact. He's said himself that while he and Tae have a lot in common they are very different in that Tae is not as greedy as him. That he's so greedy he used to try to do everything at once.

He's talked about struggling with this aspect of him- taking taking and taking all that he can get without a care. In relationships, this might translate as him taking all the attention, putting his needs first, doing what pleases him without compromising, allowing himself to be prioritized by his partner and allowing his partner to put his needs above theirs consistently.

But I think his physical and emotional boundaries is a way for him to keep that in check. You should count yourself lucky if someone like that is telling you to take care of yourself, and not give too much to them. Which most of the time is what is happening with Tuktuk and BTS and even at times Jikook.

Dude ain't trying to take advantage of nobody💀

Do you know how easy it would be for him to just let himself be consumed and bask in all that overflowing love and attention when he has to do nothing in return for it?

And it's even worse when people give just because they want something in return. That's extortion and emotional trafficking. Bamboozling of the highest order. I loved you therefore love me back

For a taker, giving and sharing becomes a love language and something they prize highly. Which means they don't give to just about anyone or share with just about anyone and if you tend to be a Natural sharer or giver they find you very distrustful because you give to just about anyone and anything💀

It's like the entry level for you is ground zero and so low just about anyone can walk in. And they do love to earn your love. They love to work for it and feel they've earned the attention you give them, they've earned the caresses, they've earned YOU.

It's why many books will tell you to play hard to get to get a man. lmho.

AND yes, they will act jealous if you treat everyone the same way you treat them, yes they will find you unattractive if you act Barbara the builder trying to build everyone up- you get my love, you get my love, everybody gets my love. Because then your love is not special the way theirs is.

So the more Tae pushes, the less attractive he becomes to someone like Jungkook. Jimin learned that the hard way didn't he?

Jungkook has a lot of love to give too but unlike many of us, he is selective about who he loves and who he gives his time and affections to and no about of badgering and pestering will make him love you💀

From where I stand, there is nothing wrong with him and I hope to God people around him don't gaslight him into thinking there is.

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stormblessed95 · 10 months

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Hi, aro-ace ff writer here. First of all, thank you for your answer💜. And thank you to the people who also left supportive comments, it means a lot 💜. I had no idea Heartstopper was written by an ace writer, this made my heart swell tbh.

I stopped writing for almost 5 years after bad comments on an old fic of mine, and I've only recently started writing again. My ego isn't as fragile as it used to be, and that's the only reason I was able to start again. But I'm still very uncertain, because I lack practice (working on that), because English isn't my first language (then again, this doesn't really matter that much, it's ff, I'm not writing a published book), and because, well, I do hold the fear that I'm just not interesting as a writer, which is also something I'm working on (not to change my writing, but to accept that what I love reading is way above what I'm currently able to write.) But you and the commenters have made me realise that my fear of not writing good love stories because I am aro-ace were unfounded, and that honestly takes a weight off my shoulders. I know I should get rid of these fears, because they hold me back, but sometimes it's easier said than done 😅.

I'm currently writing a Jikook fanfic, with a side of Taegi. It's kinda sci-fi. Jimin got himself lost in space, found a strange planet where he survived mostly alone (save for the company of a strange pet), and then the BTS crew of 6 comes to save him. Things happen. It's not all that much fleshed out yet, I do have ideas and a direction which I'm aiming for. I'm mostly using this story to get back into the habit of writing on a very regular basis. I'm not even trying to be good, I'm not editing much saved for the typos, and I'm just posting because I'm using exposure therapy to heal my old wounds. I'm just trying to have fun :). In any case, I wanted to reiterate my thanks to you, for being kind and taking the time to answer an ask which has very little to do with Jikook or BTS (saved for the fact that I use them as inspiration for my writing ahah).

I'm so glad I (and everyone else here) was helpful for you!! I'm so glad you are getting back into writing again and hope you have a better experience this time around! Your story sounds super interesting! Thank you for following up 💜

I hope Jimin gets rescued from Space too 😅😂

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harrowreads · 1 year

Text

❥ NAVIGATION ❣

HELLO! WELCOME TO MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE INTERNET.

❣ Most of the content that I share is intended for folks 18+ only! Minors, do not interact!

❥ This is a side blog! I follow from my main blog @theharrowing.

❥ This is a safe space, meaning I will not discriminate based on sexual preferences, gender identities, race or ethnicity, accessibilities, interests, or any other trait and preference. Because of this, I expect the people that interact with me to be of the same mind. I will not hesitate to block folks who may seem like a safety hazard to myself and my readers.

❥ I read and share all kinds of content, including dead dove, yandere and mafia, and stories containing dubcon/noncon, gore, graphic violence, recreational hard drug use, etc. I want to make sure my readers are safe and comfortable at all times, but I need you to meet me halfway and only interact with content that you feel safe interacting with. Please read individual warnings before proceeding!

❥ I also read and share all kinds of relationships and dynamics, including member x reader, member x member, poly, etc. (If you read what I write, then you should know what to expect with what kind of content I will share.)

❥ I do not take recommendations, and I read for pleasure only. With a busy school schedule, I already do not have a lot of time as is, so my reading and reviewing might be really sporadic at times. Please do not ask me to read your fic or badger me about reading something unless I ask.

❣ If you find any links that are broken or lead to the wrong place, please feel free to let me know! This is a lot of shit to link and I am bound to make some mistakes.

❥ View Master Lists with my favorites, by Member:

Poly, group, threesome, etc. fics will be cross-posted to each member's individual list.

These lists are not extensive; they only feature current favorites and may be swapped out from time to time. To access everything I have written, use the member tags below!

❥ View reblogs of everything, based on tags:

↳ Search by Author

Here you will find an extensive list of every author I have shared content from

↳ Member Tags:

Namjoon x Reader, NamJin, NamGi, NamSeok, NamKook

Seokjin x Reader, 2seok, JinMin, JinKook

Yoongi x Reader, Yoongi x Original Character, Sope, YoonMin, YoonKook

Hoseok x Reader, HopeKook

Jimin x Reader, MinJoon (aka MiniMoni), JiHope, JiKook

Taehyung x Reader, Vmin, Vmon, TaeJin, TaeGi, Vhope, TaeKook

Jungkook x Reader

OT7 x Reader, Rap Line x Reader, Maknae Line x Reader

Ship Info: Ship tags are listed in fanchant order under the name of the member that is first in the ship. All two-person ships have been listed but if one is not yet a link, then there is nothing that I have to link to (yet.)

↳ Special Content Tags:

↳ Status Tags:

Read | Currently Reading

↳ Fics from External Sites:

ao3 | Twitter

Note: A bunch of the reviews were originally done on my main page, @theharrowing.

Some of my older reviews are a little scarce and short, while others are more long-winded with in-depth praise. My goal is to start leaving longer reviews moving forward, but if you see something that is nothing more than a keyboard smash and 5 words, know that I was literally just living my best life.

❥ Non-BTS Content:

↳ Stray Kids Member Tags:

Bang Chan

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Read

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ffion451 · 1 year

Text

Chapter Nineteen: Here Alone | Diving: JJK (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Jungkook x reader, broinlaw!Namjoon, diveinstructor!Hobi | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only 🔞⚠️ explicit smut (f>m oral, rough(ish) unprotected m/f sex), mild angst.

Word count: 4130

Beta credits: A huge thanks to the ever-wonderful and excellent 🌺@moonleeai🌺, 🦋heathfritillary(AO3)🦋 and 🍒@cherrysoulth🍒 - thank you for your advice and input 💛 Lovely readers, all three are excellent writers, so please check out their works!

Note: This is the conclusion (ish) of their story - only the epilogue to follow, which will be posted very soon! Sorry to be annoying and post them separately, but they really are two very different chapters and there’s a time leap!

<<< Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Twenty (Epilogue) >>>

With his thumbnail he guides the spilled granules of sugar into the fractured grains of wood; tiny grains fall like snow, frosting the little crevices. On the other side of the coffee table Namjoon watches him, his gaze isn’t intense but he’s watchful, waiting for Jungkook to speak. Someone that was only half as clever and sensitive as Namjoon could have figured out that it is undoubtedly to do with those photographs and the context Jungkook needed to give you. Knowing the problem isn’t the issue, what to do about it is. Maybe it takes someone like Namjoon to know how to get Jungkook to share what’s on his mind.

Another push of his thumbnail and a miniature avalanche falls into the miniature cavern; a little world entirely in his control. It’s only when Namjoon follows Jungkook’s eyes as they flicker across the table that he suspects he ought to act. He watches the younger man’s large eyes light on the jar that holds the neat little sachets of sugar and he intervenes, stretching an arm across the coffee table to create a barricade.

Jungkook looks up at him, first with a mild look of betrayal before it’s swiftly replaced by embarrassment,”I wasn’t going to spill more…” he explains softly, shifting guiltily in his seat.

“Hmm, ok,” replies Namjoon, unconvinced, “Either way, I don’t think the staff here want to clean sugar out of every crevice of this table. Think of the ants it’d attract.”

Why am I talking about ants? Namjoon thinks, frustrated with himself for dancing so foolishly around what he really wants to say. With a clearing of his throat, and a steeling of his nerves, he decides directly addressing the issue is the best solution.

“So, did you tell her about the photographs?” It’s a simple question and not too forceful, if Jungkook chooses he can answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but Namjoon hopes for more detail. He hopes Jungkook will open up to him.

“I did,” Jungkook states, “It was fine, she was relieved more than anything else - said she was glad that the mystery was resolved.”

“Ah,” replies Namjoon, to fill the silence. He believes Jungkook when he says it went well, so he struggles to understand why Jungkook seems so affected. He let’s the sound sit, waiting for Jungkook to go further, if he wants to.

“I asked how she felt about it,” Jungkook elaborates eventually, “She just said that she wasn’t surprised that he’d do something like that, that it was typical of him.”

“And?” prompts Namjoon, sure that he’s reaching the kernel of what’s upsetting Jungkook.

“And then I was reminded of something Kang Taegi said,” Jungkook explains, “When I first found out about Jion and his situation I told my friends and we spoke about it. Taegi-nim said then that I could never compete against Jion and that I shouldn’t try to. He said that I had to learn to live alongside him and I can, I think I can, but I just don’t know… I mean, it’s not a competition, I know that. But, doesn’t it make sense to compare us? Isn’t that the thing? Won’t she always think ‘Would Jion have done that?’ or ‘How would Jion have handled this?’ and…” running out of steam, Jungkook takes a breath and trails off.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Namjoon says kindly, “Is that’s what’s worrying you?”

Jungkook laughs darkly, “Yeah, because be honest,” he says humourlessly, “How will I ever measure up against him? We’re nothing alike and as far as I can tell he was, he is, this perfect soul,” he says carefully catching his use of the past tense and notes Namjoon’s reassuring nod.

Namjoon rolls his hand ever so slightly towards Jungkook, a simple gesture that tells him to go on.

Jungkook does: with a deep breath he begins, “Meeting him, even though he’s not well, I could see that the photos don’t do him justice. He almost fucking glows, hyung! He has this whole aura of gentleness and he’s so fucking handsome - he’s like an elf or something - he’s unreal. Then, on top of all that he is her soulmate and they had this perfect thing. How can I live up to that? How can I, with all my shit and all the mess her and I have been through, ever compare to him?”

Namjoon laughs, “Ok, one thing at at time,” he smiles, “Firstly, he’s not an elf. Yes, my brother is very handsome, but you’re not so bad yourself, Jungkook - you have to admit that.”

Jungkook grunts dismissively, “I know I’m not ugly,” he admits, “But he and I are nothing alike, can she change her whole type?” he complains.

“There are no types, my sister isn’t shallow. She sees people, not a set of characteristics,” Namjoon fires back, though not unkindly, “Does my sister look like Kwon Hari? Or other women you’ve loved?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Of course not, nobody compares to her,” Jungkook is quick to reply, “I know it’s stupid and vain or whatever, but that’s the thing. I can’t compare her to any other woman I’ve loved because I have never felt this way about anyone ever before. It’s the best and worst feeling in the world because I am so fucking happy to have her and I am so fucking afraid of losing her at the same time.”

Namjoon nods, ordering his thoughts before he replies, “You two didn’t have an easy start, so I understand that you’d feel insecure. But she loves you too, and I think things are solid between you two now. There’s no immediate solution to how you feel, only time will make you feel safe in your relationship - it’s still early days for you both, but it’ll come. No good will come of comparing yourself to Jion though, you’re two very different men - there’s no point in it.”

“I know there isn’t,” admits Jungkook hopelessly, “I know I’d never measure up. As I heard it, it was smooth sailing from them from the start. None of the shit that she’s put - I mean, that we’ve been through.”

Namjoon shrugs, “There’s no point pretending they weren’t very happy and that they weren’t very much in love, but in the same way as that version of Jion is lost, so is that version of her. She’s not the same woman as she was then, you never knew her with him so you’ll just have to believe me that she’s different. What’s happened to Jion has changed her. Jion wouldn’t know what to do with her now - he was too innocent and gentle and pure.”

Jungkook makes a little noise of surprise and Joon laughs, “What? it’s true! You should’ve been honest right now and admitted that it’s her that’s put you through shit, not the other way around. I love her, but I can admit that she needs a partner who can stand up to her when she’s unreasonable, she isn’t always, but when she is, she need to be called out. My brother wouldn’t have the strength to tell her things she needs to hear but doesn’t want to. It’s more than that, she needs someone who has lost their way too, someone who knows those feelings of confusion and hurt, someone she can relate to. You are the right man for her, Jungkook, I promise.”

All the time Namjoon has been talking, Jungkook has been thinking, his head cast down. Only when Namjoon finishes his speech does Jungkook lift his gaze to look at Namjoon through his thick mop of hair, tilting his head as he considers what’s been said.

Namjoon knows Jungkook needs time, needs to think and to process things so he changes the subject, trying a little levity. He imitates Jungkook, making a slightly clicking, creaking noise as he mimics Jungkook’s head movements, “Hey Sadako,” he laughs, “Now that you’re in a big city, why don’t we get that mess on your head trimmed before we hit the gym?”

Jungkook tosses his hair back as he laughs readily and genuinely, “Yeah, it’s starting to do my head in a bit,” he admits, “She’s been telling me I ought to get it trimmed, she says she likes to actually see my face once in a while…”

Namjoon laughs, “Because you are her ‘type’” he smiles, “She wants the best for you - I think she’s the right woman for you too.”

Jungkook smiles, “I’m not easy to handle,” he confesses, “But I’d do anything she asked me to.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “You don’t say,” he intones sarcastically, “You’re so obviously a complete sucker for her.”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods amenably, “I’m not even ashamed of it.”

“There’s no reason to be, she’s just as crazy for you,” Namjoon smiles, glad to see Jungkook is a little lighter. He doesn’t want to belabour his points, but he seeks a final bit of reassurance, “You heard what I said about Jion, yeah?” he presses, leaning forward to ruffle the younger man’s hair affectionately.

“I did,” Jungkook nods, running his hands through his hair to try and tame it, though he’s touched by Namjoon’s brotherly gesture.

“You might as well tell me everything - what else is wrong?” Namjoon adds perceptively.

Jungkook laughs awkwardly and clicks his tongue, “The thing is that that’s it - nothing’s wrong. Things have been going so well recently that I guess I feel nervous about how it might fuck up again as it always seems to.”

Namjoon nods sagely, “I understand that, but I think that’s behind you now. Trust in her, she won’t let you down.”

Jungkook smiles, “I won’t let her down either.”

As Namjoon leaves cash on the table and stands up, he grins, “I know you won’t - I trust you. It didn’t even need saying.”

___________________

You barely have time to process Jungkook’s new haircut when he gets back from his boxing session before he’s escaping to the shower to wash the sweat from his limbs. He’d returned flustered but glowing, Namjoon had headed to work to shower where he keeps his suits and Mina was hosting some lunch or another… You know you two are alone in an apartment that suddenly feels several degrees too hot.

You’re left pacing the kitchen in his absence, unable to tear your mind from the momentary glimpse of his glistening skin and tousled hair. In the last week or so your limited time with Jungkook has become an ever-present thought in your mind. Naturally, it’s affected you: you want to spend all your time with him; you find it hard not to be near him; you crave even the slightest touch and you think of him constantly. That’s not it all though, because it has also made you absolutely feral for him. Since the two of you started having sex regularly, you’ve found it hard to control your desire for him but now you have barely any control at all. The slightest smirk is enough for you to soak through your underwear… You’re so weak for him that you feel utterly pathetic but who is there to judge you? Certainly not Jungkook - he loves it. So why should you be your harshest critic? Having successfully appeased yourself, you give in to your basest instincts. Who needs restraint anyway?

You follow your feet and dirty thoughts to the master bathroom.

Namjoon’s shower is huge: it has no door, there’s only a glass partition that you walk around to reach the massive waterfall shower-head and inlaid jets. You couldn’t be more grateful for it because it allows you to creep into the shower without Jungkook noticing as he soaps his body, eyes closed. You can’t help but admire his sinuous, muscular form as he works the foam into his skin: Jungkook isn’t a gym rat by any description, but his entire body is firm and toned, the muscles in his arms, thighs and abs all clearly defined and currently dripping with suds and water, making your thighs clench.

You never thought you’d be grateful for the tumultuous path your relationship has taken, but right now you are. You thank the universe that the course has been gradual and slow-building, because if you saw Jungkook like this from the start, you don’t think you’d ever have built up the confidence to speak to him, let alone allow him see you naked.

You are admiring the curves of his ass as he turns from the jet; fate remains on your side as he keeps his eyes closed. You don’t want to startle him, but the sight of him and the throbbing between your legs can no longer be ignored, “Don’t open your eyes,” you say softly.

He jumps a little, and his breath quickens, but he obeys your command. In response, you smile as you shed your joggers and tee, leaving yourself in your underwear, a fairly sporty crop top and shorts combination, and approach him.

“Keep them closed,” you whisper, trying to sound seductive, but you can’t resist booping the tip of his nose with your finger, drawing a small giggle from him. Then you glide your hands down his smooth, water-slicked torso, sinking to your knees before him as his giggle turns into a strangled moan of anticipation.

___________________

Jungkook screws his eyes shut as he strives to contain his whimpers. If awards were given out for sucking cock, he knows you’d sweep the board. That night against the lighthouse, he thought you were going to suck his soul out of him and this is no different. You edge him to the point of madness; one of his hands tangles in the wet mess of your hair whilst the other clings desperately to the tiles of the shower, the grout flaking beneath his clawed nails as he fights waves of frustration cresting over waves of pleasure.

You’ve nearly gotten him there; he’s so far down your throat now that every lascivious moan you make vibrates against his throbbing cock deliciously. Jungkook is lost in sensation, the flow of the water, the darkness of his closed eyes and the echo of the space makes everything far more intense. Your hand feels so good clenched into the meat of his ass, as does the other that rolls his balls; you tug them gently then, and that final pressure, the press of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks pushes him over the edge unexpectedly and he comes like a firehose down your throat. You cough and splutter as his eyes fly open; he’s surprised to watch you swallow his load without retching, though your eyes, wide and innocent despite the filthy things you’ve just done to him, are a little watery.

In his post-orgasm moment of clarity he thinks of how often he used to touch himself to the thought of you sucking his cock in his shower, and he can’t fully process that his fantasy has become reality. Desperate to have you near, he pulls you to your feet and into his embrace, careful to protect his sensitive cock, though he can’t control its twitching when your hard nipples press into him through your soaked crop top. He doesn’t pause or seek permission as he yanks it down and attaches his mouth around your breast, sucking harshly and groaning as he draws a whining moan of desire from you. With a sharp nip and a flick of his tongue he releases you, panting slightly.

“Towels,” he orders in a low, guttural voice, “Let’s fuck.”

Moments later, you’ve both hastily towel dried yourselves and been sure to leave the bathroom free from any evidence of what you’ve done. As soon as the last towel is hung over the heated rail, Jungkook is pushing you towards his new bedroom. He throws you on the bed unceremoniously as soon as the door is locked behind him and he’s quick to clamber over you. Now your head dangles over the edge while he ploughs into you, his hips seemingly moving on their own accord as he fucks you with desperate, unbridled desire.

“Jungkook,” you whine, hands clawing at his shoulders as your head painfully fills with blood.

He takes in your expression and bites his lip in concern, immediately his hands are under you, slipping beneath your shoulder blades to pull you into his lap. His new fringe sticks to his forehead, sweat-soaked tendrils curling into his eyes. You brush the layers of his hair back from his face as you lean in to kiss him, “I really like this cut,” you whisper into his mouth as he groans into the kiss, nipping your lip.

Sat on his lap, his cock inside you and your legs around him, you roll your hips into him and he sighs heavily, “Did it for you,” he manages to pant out. You kiss him sloppily in thanks.

He’s exhausted from the gym but he finds it impossible to cede control completely to you. In this position he can still just about fuck up into you, but he’s grateful that you can meet his thrusts as he struggles to find the energy to match his desire. It’s sex at its messiest, lacking rhythm or control but the passion beneath is desperate.

“Jungkook,” you whine as your high reaches a tipping point but you’re not quite there, the friction just not enough to push you over the edge.

He smirks as he spits on his thumb and reaches between your bodies, “I’ve got you,” he promises as he rubs your clit vigorously. You whine in protest, the pleasure building too fast: the heat builds in your body and you know you’ll come soon as you try to communicate through desperate whimpers.

“I can’t hold out much longer,” he explains, “Need to feel you come around me babe.”

Moments later, you do, throwing your head back and crying out as pleasure rips through your body on a wave of white-hot sensation. The arch of your back allows Jungkook to hit you deeper and it drives him towards his own high seconds later. His mouth latches to your throat and he sucks a messy bruise into the skin as he fills you. Soaked in sweat, you come down slowly from your explosive orgasms, leaving you shaking and trembling in each others’ arms.

As he recovers from his high, Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek, still buried deeply inside you. You sigh, resting your cheek on his shoulder, “Are you ok, baby?” he asks soothingly.

You only hum in response, drawing circles with your nails on his back as he shudders pleasurably.

“I love you,” he declares, pressing a kiss into your hair, “and I could stay here forever, but we better get a move on if we’re going home tonight.”

You lift your head and press a tired kiss to his temple, “I know - love you too.”

Separating yourselves is a messy task and both of you pad to separate bathrooms to shower again, avoiding temptation and any scandalous behaviour should Mina arrive back earlier than expected. The rest of the visit flies and before you know it, you’re both collapsing into the comfort of your bed, the dogs curled happily in their basket as you fall into slumber in each others’ arms.

___________________

“Tempus fugit,” calls a wizened patron from outside the pub, listening in on Hobi and Jungwon’s conversation, “Can’t believe your boy is off already Jeon Jungwon!”

“Repeating someone’s words in Latin doesn’t make the earwigging any less rude,” snipes Hobi’s wife as she loads a bag of supplies from the pub into the truck, looking at all the boxes within. She turns back to Jungwon, “How much stuff is he taking?”

Jungwon smiles, but sadness lurks beneath, “Most of it is his music equipment from the lighthouse.”

“Is that where he is now?” she asks, the implication being ‘is that where he is when he should be here helping out?’

“It’s hard for lovers to say goodbye,” calls the old drinker again.

“That’s enough from you!” Hobi calls, his tone is teasing and pleasant, but firm; he knows if he doesn’t intervene, his wife will lose all patience.

Jungwon smiles benignly, “It is hard to say goodbye,” he agrees, “I think he wishes she was taking him to the city, but it’s best they say goodbye here, I don’t like the thought of her travelling back here alone and upset. It’s good of her brother-in-law to put me up for a few days. It’s been years since I’ve been to the city and I want to check my boy settles in ok.”

Hobi smiles softly, “How does she feel about that?”

“It was her suggestion, of course,” Jungwon smiles, “She is so considerate. She makes the perfect daughter-in-law, not that I am planning ahead!”

“No, of course not,” Hobi teases before he nods, looking over Jungwon’s shoulder and raising his chin to indicate Jungkook’s approaching truck, “Here comes the would-be groom now.”

The three of them line up as he pulls to the curb, leaving the engine idling, “I’ll go park up in the house and I’l be over,” he says flatly.

“Are you ready to leave?” asks Hobi gently, taking in Jungkook’s swollen eyes, and tear-stained puffy face.

“‘m fine,” he sniffs unconvincingly.

“Of course he is,” adds Hobi’s wife brusquely, “It’s only eight months for god’s sake, he’ll be back most weekends. Stop your fussing!”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, attempting a brave face, “Exactly, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Good lad,” she says as he pulls off.

She turns to Jungwon, “Take my advice,” she says softly, “Don’t coddle him now or he won’t get through it. It won’t be easy for him to be separated from her and Bam - I bet he’s not even begun to reckon with what it’ll be like when he’s there and he realises that he’ll also be separated from you and this place, this community. It’s going to be hard for you both. Brave faces, yeah?”

Jungwon nods, “I know,” he smiles, turning to Hobi, “You married a wise woman.”

Hobi smiles, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head, “Wise and brutal,” he laughs as she wraps an arm around his waist and beams up at him, squinting in the midday sun.

There, under the glaring light reflecting from the truck windscreen and the calm flat of water that stretches before them, the three of them wait for Jungkook.

___________________

You watch the same expanse of glittering blue from the cliff top, the same brave face plastered over your own sadness, but this time it’s for the sake of the dogs, especially Bam, who is still perturbed by Jungkook’s tears.

You’ve known loneliness in all its forms: the agonising pain of growing loneliness as someone slips away from you; the desperate, aching absence of a void in your life; the false embrace of the darkness that pulls you in and tells you that loneliness is what you want… You’ve known them all. Right now, here alone, you do not fear it.

Not that you’re alone for long anymore: now that you’re embedded in this small community and with a family that love you, company is never far away. You turn at the gentle toot of a horn and, even through your puffy eyes, you can make out the beaming smile of Seolhee in the passenger seat of the approaching car.

The second the car pulls up she rushes to you, leaving Taegi behind her to wrangle the excitable dogs.

“You ok?” she asks as she pulls you into a strangling hug.

“I will be,” you say, smiling at Taegi from over her shoulder, “Thanks for picking her up and coming over. I cooked and it’s proper food this time. I followed a recipe and everything.”

He smiles, “A recipe? We are spoilt! I am absolutely famished. I made so many dishes for Jungwon to pack up that I’ve worked up quite the appetite,” he admits, “So don’t worry, Jungkook won’t starve!”

“I’ll cook for him too when I visit,” Seolhee smiles, “I’ll be over there all the time making a nuisance of myself and making sure that Joon and him are ok!” she promises sincerely.

You smile at them both, “Where would we be without friends like you?”

Both of them smile, touched by the sincerity of your words. Blushing a little, you gesture for them to move into the house, “Let’s eat and drink and not be sad!”

They simply laugh; Seolhee maintains a firm grip around your waist as you head inside, the sun at your backs, warming you and lighting your path.

A/N: Thanks for reading - please let me know what you think!

<<< Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Twenty (Epilogue) >>>

<<< back to series m.post

Taglist (always open, let me know if you want to be added to a permanent one): @moonleeai , @hoseoksluv89 , @babyboo22 , @uwu2rawr

#bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #minors dnr #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub

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sope-and-shine · 1 year

Text

Maybe We’re A Movie | Part 2

-> Pairing: Jin x Reader

-> fluff // minor angst

-> Word Count: 11.4k

-> Summary: Living in the city far away from home, you tend to miss out on family news. So, when you return home for the holiday’s, all you plan to do is spend time with family and catch up on everything you’ve missed since your last visit. You expected the jabs at living so far away and the poking at your barren love life, but you don’t expect to actually find love. Meeting the town’s newest resident and baker, you find yourself falling for his charm and good looks. Everything about him is just so magical…but there’s something strange going on with him and his shop that you can’t quite place. Is it just your hesitation to let him be a Christmas fling? Or is it something more?

-> Warning(s): Taegi side pairing, yoonji and hobi side pairing, mild language, lots of familial rough housing, teasing, constant poking and prodding about relationship status, typical ‘when are you going to settle down’ trope, talk about yoongi’s shaky coming out and love life, very Hallmark-esque

a/n: I was gonna wait to post this and then i changed my mind

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4

The conversation from the night before definitely reminded you why you left home in the first place. The nosiness, the ruckus, the ‘do this for your family’ mentality. You love your family, but they can be overbearing. It always feels like you’ve been in a wrestling match and all you can do is hold on until time runs out. At least being home gives you a chance to sneak into town without anyone to bother you.

You stroll through the park, occasionally spotting folks here and there that you haven’t spoken to in a while. They all look so happy for the holiday season. Some are just here on break from their extended degree programs, some have just come home to share time with family - much like you - and others are home to show off their new family additions.

When you were in high school, you always thought you’d meet someone at college. Then, when college finally passed with no one to spend intimate moments with, you figured you’d meet someone at work or at least in the city. But your career took off faster than you thought it would, and suddenly there was no time for you to even look at strangers passing by on the street.

Do you enjoy others and their families? No. But sometimes you can’t help but think about how right your Mom is.

Along your journey, you find yourself walking towards BE, Seokjin’s store. Its storefront isn’t as brightly lit as it was when you passed it the other night, but the window decor is still just as lively as it was then. The architecture and the exterior designs are practically the same, but the new paint and signage seem to give it a whole new life.

You walk over to where the stairs are to enter the facility and take the ramp up instead. You’d seen the ramp’s addition on your last visit home, when Mrs. Goo was still the owner of the bakery. Instead of the plain french doors with the simple ‘Goo’s Bakery’ sign, it’s been replaced with a white door with a ‘B’ and an ‘E’ in gold on each window. In smaller writing below those are the words ‘Maison Products’ that are also in gold.

“Homemade Products…” You read to yourself. No offense to Seokjin, but you didn’t really see him as the homemade knick knack kind of guy. Only one way to find out, though

You enter through the door on the right, stepping into the warmth of the shop. It has that woodsy, pine scent with a hint of popcorn and cookies wafting through the air. It’s a comforting scent, one that feels like home even if that’s not what your home smells like. The store itself looks like something out of a movie.

Unlike the bright exterior of the storefront, the inside is covered in neutral tones. The floors are still the original that Mrs. Goo had when she ran the store, but the walls are all painted a dark, forest green instead of the light blue walls. There are shelves along the walls filled with possible Christmas presents, decorations, cards, and loads of items to become stocking stuffers. There are even a few tables where some people sit eating baked goods and enjoying hot drinks.

“Hi! Welcome in!” You turn to your left where the registers are, right next to the baked goods. A man with blonde hair, a white shirt, and a red apron walks out from behind the counter with a tray of bagged popcorn in various flavors. He smiles, “We’ll be with you in just a mome-Agh!” The poor man trips, sending him - and the popcorn bags - to the floor.

You rush over to his aid, “Hey! You okay?”

The clumsy man pushes himself off of the floor and onto his knees, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine! Just clumsy, that’s all.” You help him up.

“Namjoon!” Jimin - the employee from the other night - comes running from somewhere else in the store. He stops when he sees Namjoon dusting himself off with your help. “Oh, you tripped again. And we just finished wrapping the popcorn too…”

You pick up one of the various bags and inspect it for any imperfections, finding none, “For what it’s worth, I think the popcorn is still together.”

Jimin picks up his own bag and he inspects it as well - nodding in agreement, “Yeah, it does look pretty okay.”

Namjoon takes the bag from your hands, “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem, Namjoon.”

“I’m Jimin.” The pink haired employee extends his hand to you and you gladly shake it, “I haven’t seen you around here before. You new?”

“No, I just don’t come home unless it’s Christmas or something big,” You explain, “My name is Min (Y/n).”

His face light’s up in recognition, “Oh! Jeongguk’s older sister! So, it was you in the passenger seat the other night when he stuck his whole upper body out of the window.”

“That’s me.” You laugh.

“He talks about you a lot,” he mentions, “Not to spoil anything, but he comes in to grab a gift for you at least 2 times a month.”

“That sounds like my brother.”

The front door bells chime as someone walks in, “I’m back with the flour!” You turn your attention to the confident store owner you’d met the other day. He has a huge bag in his arms resting over his right shoulder. As soon as he steps into the store, his eyes seem to draw immediately to Namjoon and his messy hair, “Oh, what do we have here? Did Joon trip again? It wasn’t cookies this time, was it?”

“Just the popcorn.” You assure him.

Jimin pipes up as well, “We sealed it all before he dropped it this time!”

“A nice improvement.” He nods in approval. He gestures to the bag in his arms with his head, “Take this to the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Jimin takes the bag off of Jin’s hands and makes his way behind the counter, Namjoon getting back to work stacking popcorn on the floor displays.

Jin turns to you, his approving smile turning into one of pleasant disbelief, “I didn’t expect to see you here already.”

You shrug, “I was curious about the hype,” You admit. You take another look around and smile, “I can see it though. You did a great job decorating and everything in your display looks delicious.”

“Thank you! That means a lot coming from someone who’s apparently a better baker than me.” He teases, “Say, you’re not trying to start a business against me, are you?”

You put your hands up in defense, “No thanks. I have a very good job that pays me very well.”

“Stability. That’s understandable. I respect that.” He looks around the store for a moment and then back to you, “Why don’t you let me show you around?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re busy enough as it is.” You try to protest.

“We’re pretty on top of our game today. Plus the breakfast crowd is slowing down. Besides, who am I going to get in trouble with? Myself?” He asks

“Well, when you put it that way…” You teasingly contemplate his offer, making sure to draw out your “thinking” before you respond, “Sure. Why not?”

“Follow me!” He smiles, gesturing with his hand to follow after him.

He takes you to the next room over. Several fake trees stand to make a pathway, working as product displays with prices at the top written on laminated stars. The walls are lined with shelving units, several of the shelves backstock for the trees on display and the rest housing other products like toys and knickknacks. The stairway leading upstairs is also decked out in garland and twinkling lights, large gold frames that showcase children’s artwork hanging above your head. The whole first room of the second floor is full of shelves dedicated to books, candles, and anything scented. There’s no strong smell that hits you like most stores, but there’s a light mix of smells that linger as you pass them. In the middle of it are 2 large tables, papers and buckets of crayons left obviously used in the center. The room after that is a waiting area for the bathroom and a door that most likely leads to the next floor.

“Wow, you really have everything.” It’s hard not to be impressed by everything. You’d hate to un-humble him, but he’s really outdone himself.

“With so many people having different tastes and interests, I wanted to make sure that I covered all the bases.” He admits, taking your compliment in its stride, “I even have a workshop upstairs.”

“I thought the upstairs was an apartment?” You ask. At least, it used to be when Mrs. Goo was still in charge.

“It was! But I have a wide variety in my stock, so I bought the apartment next door so I could expand a bit.” He explains. He looks around his store and you can just see the pride in his eyes, “It isn’t much, but I think I’ve really made it something.”

“So, can I go see?” You ask, obviously teasing the poor man.

He picks up on your teasing and smiles, shaking his head and holding out his arm to keep you from moving forward, “The upstairs is unfortunately for employees only.”

“I see. Understandable. I can respect that.” You jest, quoting him from earlier. He rolls his eyes and you laugh, “Well, the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” He says, seemingly very genuine. He’s definitely very playful, and you’re starting to think that his confidence is just an attempt to break the ice with others.

He suddenly claps, “Alright! Now that you’ve seen everything, why don’t we head back downstairs and you can try a cookie or two?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to try out the competition?” You ask, eyes playfully narrowing.

“A cookie or two never hurt anyone.” He states matter-of-factly, placing a hand on your shoulder and lightly pushing you towards the stairs, “Besides, I need to know if I can impress the master.” He leads you downstairs and back to the now empty bakery front, both Namjoon and Jimin sweeping up and tidying from their morning customers. He brings you to a table and pulls out a chair for you, “Madame~”

“Oh, how fancy!” You accept his gesture and take a seat, letting him push in your chair as well. You turn yourself to look at him, “Do you treat all your guests this way?”

“Just the famous ones.” He steps away to the treats counter, grabbing a plate and placing various cookies on it. They all come from trays that are almost empty or taking the last of a batch. Once he decides he has enough, he closes the display and makes his way back to you, “Now, what I have for you is a selection of our finest baked goods with a recipe so secret that even Gordon Ramsey himself couldn’t replicate them.”

You raise a brow at him, “You seem confident in that.”

“I’m always confident,” He assures you. He picks up a random cookie from the plate and holds it out to you, “And I’m also extremely confident that you are going to love these.”

“I guess I’ll just have to have a taste and find out.” You take the cookie out of his hand and take a bite. The cookie itself is chewy and moist, everything a cookie should be. You try not to let what you think tell on your face as you try a bite of each cookie on the plate, making a mental note of your favorite as you go.

Watching you eat and control your expressions seems to drive Jin crazy, and he decides he has to know exactly what you think about his baking, “Alright, enough with the poker face. What do you think?”

“I think - and this is on a scale of 1-10 - they are…” You pause for dramatic effect, “A solid 9.5.”

Seokjin’s surprised, “9.5?! Why not 10?”

You shrug, “There is always room for perfection.”

“Oh, yeah? And what are yours on that scale?”

“An 11, because I exceed expectations.” You tease.

He scoffs, “Oh, how nice…Did you get that off of a report card?”

“Every year.” You assure him.

“Likely story.” He crosses his arms and sighs, “I’ll take Jeongguk and Bora’s word and accept your answer for now, but I will try your cookies and put this nonsense to rest.”

You nod, “I’ll make a batch just for you.”

“Careful! Cooking is the way to my heart.” He warns. He gets this cheeky smile on his face and leans in, “You’re not trying to make a move on me, are you?”

You place a hand over your heart, acting as if you’ve been caught, “You noticed? There goes my plan of making you fall for me and taking over your store.”

“Well, I assure you I will keep your evil plans in mind as the season continues.” He says, chuckling to himself at your little game. You smile as well, taking a quick peek at your watch to check the time. 12:30. You’d be late if you didn’t leave now.

You start to get your things together so you can go, standing and pulling your wallet out of your purse, “I should be going now. My Mom will be starting lunch and then it’s family game night, but-“ You pause, unsure if you should admit you enjoyed his company today, “-it was nice getting to know you a bit more.”

“I hope today’s impression was much better than before?” He asks, very hopeful in today’s interaction unlike the day prior.

“It was!” You agree, finding him much less conceited and far more proud in himself and his business. But you can’t help teasing him, “Though, I am slightly disappointed I didn’t get any free pocket candy.”

He stands as well, “The cookies weren’t enough?” He asks, feigning shock.

You tilt your head in confusion, waving your wallet in your hand, “I was going to pay for those.”

“Oh no, this is a competition now. I expect your cookies in return before Christmas Day.” He explains.

“I guess I can make that happen.” You sigh, acting as though your compliance is a burden and not something that you’re now excited to do. He smiles and you laugh. You put your wallet away and slowly start to make your way to the door, “So…I’ll see you around then?”

“You will.” He follows you to the doorway and grabs the door handle before you get the chance to. He pulls the door open and takes a small, pre-packaged candy cane out of his apron to offer you, “Try not to miss me too much.”

“How could I?” You take the candy cane from him and place it in your pocket, turning back to the store to say goodbye to the others as well, “It was nice meeting you too, Jimin! Namjoon!”

“Have a good day!” Jimin calls out, peeking his head around the corner of the second room.

Namjoon stops sweeping to wave you off, “Walk carefully!”

You nod and give one last wave to Seokjin before exiting the store, pulling your coat tighter to yourself as you make your trek home.

Jimin gets down from his ladder and takes off his hat, showing off the pointed tips of his ears. He walks right up to Namjoon and hits his arm with his hat, “Walk carefully? Really?!”

Namjoon jumps back, “What?! She walked!”

“She doesn’t know you know that!” Jimin scolds.

Jin turns to the two elves, ignoring their arguing - as it is a daily occurrence - for a more important factor, “Have you two been eavesdropping this whole time?”

The two stop their fighting, sharing a look before Namjoon shrugs, “Maybe?”

Jin sighs and shakes his head, “Naughty. Very naughty.” With a quick snap of his fingers, the cookie dish vanishes from the table, leaving behind a glittering clean surface for their next round of customers.

——-

Christmas - according to most Christmas songs - was dubbed the most wonderful time of year. Now, it’s not entirely false, but it’s not entirely true either. Being cornered by your family is never fun, and an excuse for them to bug you is never a good one in your book. But family game night during the holiday season is easily one of your favorite holiday traditions.

Unfortunately, due to your family’s long history of “misunderstandings” and “mishaps” there is a lengthy list of games you’re all no longer allowed to play. Twister and Monopoly hold the top 2 spots on the banned list, having been banned since you were in high school. If Yoonji and Jeongguk don’t cool it this year, then UNO would be joining them as well. Thankfully, since Bora is still little, you’re able to stick to more simple and civil games.

Taehyung hits his blue button, “Rudolph!”

“Yes!” Bora cheers.

“No!” Yoonji cries, hitting the coffee table with the palm of her hand.

Your Mother thought that charades would be a good idea for Bora to stay involved. No cards to keep track of, no secret spilling, just the quiet game mixed with dancing. However, she had seriously doubted Yoonji’s competitiveness. Even worse, none of you knew just how good Taehyung actually is at games.

“Alright, that makes 10. Taehyung and Yoongi win!” Your Dad announces, clapping his hands so that Bora will congratulate them as well.

You join in and watch your sister turn to Taehyung with a deep scowl, “How did you figure that out?”

He shrugs, “She was making flying motions and patting her nose.”

“She was jumping and slapping her face!” Yoonji argues, unable to see how the motion could ever correlate to Rudolph the Red-nose Reindeer. Your sister is quick to turn to her husband, “Babe, she was jumping and slapping her face-!”

“I know, Yoonji. Taehyung just speaks kid.” Hoseok assures her, still clapping for the winners of the game. He turns to his daughter, “Bora! Tell Mommy to cheer!”

“Cheer, Mommy!” Bora encourages, clapping her little hands even harder. Yoonji gives a dry clap, but Bora doesn’t think it’s good enough. She toddles over to grab her Mother’s hands and physically helps her clap for her Uncle and Taehyung.

You laugh as Yoonji reluctantly lets it happen, still butt-hurt over her loss, “Just give him a break, Yoonji. He wants 5 kids, remember? He has to be good at charades.”

“5 what?!” Yoongi questions, his eyes wide and full of surprise.

Your Mother laughs - remembering the conversation from the other night, and Taehyung turns to you with a look of betrayal, “Sh! Don’t spill my master plan!” He turns back to Yoongi and smooths out his hair, attempting to reassure him - even though he just admitted the truth, “Just ignore them, Yoongi, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Yoongi still looks as though his life flashed before his eyes, and your Father is quick to come to his rescue. He stands, “Alright! Let’s take a break and refill on snacks before we move onto Mario Kart!”

Jeongguk- your partner in the games - is the first to jump up and take off running, “Pee break!”

“Me! I have to potty!” Bora announces, dropping her Mother’s hands, “Number 2!”

Hoseok hears the drill and is up faster than Yoonji, “Oh no! Let’s go, Bora!” Bora takes off for the stairs and he follows after her, “Hurry upstairs!”

Your Father laughs and grabs some of the empty bowls off the table, Yoongi getting up to help him refill them as well. You, your Mother, Yoonji, and Taehyung remain in the living room to tear down from charades.

“So, what did you do today?” Taehyung asks, holding the small ziplock back for the topic papers.

“Oh, I walked around town for a bit, enjoyed the snow and the view. The peace and quiet-” Yoonji laughs at that, “Oh! And I went to see BE today.”

“Oh? Did you see anything you like?” Yoonji asks, definitely not talking about the products or the baked goods.

You shrug, “The store was cute. Pretty impressive really.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She reminds you, knowing very well that you knew what she meant, “Did you meet the employees?”

You nod, “Yes, I did. I met Namjoon and Jimin right as I walked in.”

“And Jin…?” Your Mother chimes in, showing up in front of you to take the empty bowl from you.

“I met him too.” You assure her, “He showed me around the store.”

“Your own personal tour?” Taehyung asks.

He raises his eyebrows in suggestion and you roll your eyes at the notion, “It wasn’t anything big, he was just being nice.”

“Okay, well, what did you think about him?” Your Mother asks, wanting to know more.

You shrug, not really knowing what to say that won’t condemn you. In all honesty, Seokjin really is nicer than your first impression of him. But you can’t really say that that’s made you fall as head-over-heels for him as they all seem to be hoping, “He’s nice. He’s definitely a charmer. I can see why the store does so well.”

“So you like him?” Yoonji asks, saying it as if it’s a statement and not a question.

“Woah, woah, watch it with the way you’re using that “like” word. I just met the guy.” You remind her.

Your Mother does nothing to help, she only encourages the idea, “Okay, well, you can still like someone you just met.”

“Okay, and I don’t. Jin is just a nice guy who wants to be nice to me because Jeongguk spends his entire allowance at his store.” You argue, knowing very well that any money your little brother gets is spent on video games or something he can eat. Knowing how much Jeongguk values your opinion, it makes sense that you would be the person to convince him not to go to BE ever again. ”If I’m happy, then Jeongguk is happy.”

“So, you don’t have any opinion on him?” Yoonji inquires, her eyes practically digging into you.

You shake your head, “Not romantically.”

“But you think he’s handsome?” Yoongi’s voice chimes in from behind you.

“I never said that!” You turn around and argue. He smiles at you and you can’t help but glare at him, “Why don’t you just go back to getting snacks, Mr. Grinch?” You tease, pointing out the Grinch sweater that he wears every year.

“Ha! You’re so funny!” He fakes laughs, pretending to double over from how funny he thinks you are - which he doesn’t. He backs out of the room, still pretending to be taken over with laughter, “I’m dying over here!”

“Dying on the inside maybe.” You grumble, glaring as his figure disappears into the kitchen. You turn to the other 3 adults in the room. If you don’t set them straight now, then they’ll never leave you alone. Then you’ll spend the rest of your trip plagued by random, forced encounters with the shop owner in question. “Listen, I didn’t come home or go to his store just to play the dating game. I’m here to spend time with my family and crush them at Mario Kart! Please, just let this whole dating nonsense go!”

Your Mother looks disappointed, and Taehyung just puts his hands up in defeat. Yoonji however, doesn’t seem as easily swayed. She walks up to you with her arms crossed and eyes you up and down, “I’ll let you slide for now, because I’m not going to let the Mario Kart jab go by me. But I know you’re going to meet a guy by the end of this year, and I’m calling it right now!”

Everyone drops the subject, but it lingers in the back of your mind for the rest of the night. Even as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but think about his broad shoulders and his handsome face. You’ve never clicked with someone right off the bat this fast. Even though he came off as somewhat arrogant during your first meeting, he took your punches and rolled with them. That’s not something you’ve had before. If anything, that’s something that Joy thought pushed people away from you. But Jin seems to enjoy the banter.

It’s too bad that a man like him is just out of your reach.

With Christmas right around the corner, the need to get everything done for Santa before he arrives grows more urgent. While most of the adults staying in your childhood home are there helping to get everything done, you’re distracting the youngest family member with a nice trip to the park.

“C’mon, Bora!” A little boy calls to her, halfway to the play set steps, but waiting for her to follow him.

She toddles after him, having to climb her way through the thick snow, “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

You’d have thought that someone would shovel the sidewalks or get rid of some of the snow at the playground, but all of it was left untouched when you arrived. The snow was so high that you carried Bora all the way to the playset before you made yourself comfortable on a park bench.

It took a couple swipes with your hand to get it wiped off, but you’re sure your butt is going to be wet and cold the whole walk home. But as long as Bora is entertained and happy, you can push through the 30 minutes that you’ll spend here. It’ll be nice to get a couple pictures to bring back to your sister.

You follow her with the camera on your phone, watching her play with the other kids at the park in her big, puffy coat. You wave to her, “Hi, Bora!”

She waves back and then all of the other kids wave at you as well. You wave more erratically until you notice a gloved hand waving next to you, “Hello, everyone!”

“Seokjin.” You say, finally taking notice of the tall man in a snow coat of his own. He has two steaming cups settled in a stacked cup carrier resting on one forearm, the other is still in the air waving to the playground children.

“Just Jin.” He corrects. He stops waving and grabs one of the cups from his carrier, “Hot chocolate?”

With a day as cold as this one, you’ll gladly accept a warm drink, “Thanks.”

You open the lid as he takes a seat next to you, blowing on it before you take a sip. He watches you the whole time, an almost expectant look on his face. He waits until you raise an eyebrow at him to say what’s on his mind, “Well?”

“Well, what?” You question.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

“I do!” You assure him. It’s honestly some of the best hot chocolate you’ve had, but you won’t tell him that, “It’s good.” You take another sip.

“Good! That’s from the batch I made in the mop bucket.” He says, taking a sip from his own cup. Your first reaction is to spit out the current sip you’d taken, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand as he divolves into laughter next to you, “Oh! That was priceless! I wish you could have seen your face!”

“That was not funny!” You insist. Though, no matter what you say, he still finds it absolutely hilarious. Then again, if he were Jeongguk and he had played the same prank on someone at the house, then you would probably think it’s funny too.

But again, you’ll never tell him that.

You shake your head, “Okay, laugh it up all you want. I hope you get put on Santa’s naughty list.”

He scoffs, “Bold of you to assume I’m not on it already.”

“You’re right, my mistake.” You apologize, full of sarcasm.

“I made it in the kitchen in the shop before I left.” He admits, “I’m watching Namjoon’s brother and Jimin’s son while they’re at the shop.” He points to two boys - one about 12 and the other roughly 6 - that hadn’t been on the playground when you arrived, “They’re the spitting image of them, right? Pretty creepy when you look at them together.”

“Maybe a little...” Their heads are covered in hats and they’re completely bundled up, but you can see a small likeness from where you sit, “Then again, Bora looks like she was cloned in Yoonji’s basement, so anything is possible.”

“Did you come out to enjoy the weather?” He asks

“Oh, yeah! I’m really living it up right now.” You reply sarcastically, “I would get up and show you just how excited I am, but I’m pretty sure my jeans are frozen to the bench.”

He laughs, “I’m sure park safety will be out eventually to scrape you off.”

“That’s likely.” You scoff with a light roll of your eyes. You take another sip of your hot chocolate and turn to check on Bora again, finding her off of the playset and trudging through the thick snow in your direction. Her face is red from the cold, but she doesn’t look as if she’s going to let that stop her, “Bora, what are you doing?”

“I wanna see Jin!” She yells back, taking another step and stumbling a bit.

“You wanna see me?!” Jin shouts back, getting a nod from the determined little girl. He laughs with joy, “Well, let me give you a hand.” He sets his hot chocolate off to the side and gets up, stepping through the snow to pluck the practically swimming little girl up and into his arms, and bring her back to the bench with him. He sits her right in between the two of you, “Are you cold?”

“A little…” She nods, sniffling.

“Do you want some hot chocolate? Jin made it.” You tell her, taking off the lid of your hot chocolate to blow on it.

“Really?” She asks. She seems suspicious, but she also looks like she needs something to warm her up a bit.

“Yup! He made it just for you~” You assure her, hoping it will be just enough incentive to get her to have some.

She reaches her hands out and you let her take the lead, still holding onto the bottom of the cup to keep her from tipping it down the front of her shirt. She takes a nice, long sip and pulls away with a chocolate covered smile, “Delicious!”

“Thank you!” Jin reaches down with a thinly gloved hand and wipes away some of the chocolate around her mouth, “Are you excited for Santa to come and visit you?”

“Mhm!” She takes another sip.

“What do you think he’s going to get you?” He asks her. He seems genuinely curious, and it surprises you that he actually seems to care. Not many grown men would take the time to ask a child about their interests or their wants.

Bora shrugs, “I hope toys…”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of those.” He assures her. He turns to you, only his smile seems more playful, “What do you think you’ll get, Auntie (Y/n)? Have you been good this year~?”

“Oh, I’ve been a Saint.” You assure him.

“Really? Is that so?” He asks, “No traffic violations or warrants for your arrest?”

You laugh, “Well, there may be one or two, but I’m sure Santa will understand.” You joke, keeping the conversation light for Bora.

“I hear that Santa is very forgiving. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” He winks at you, making you giggle.

“Oh, I hope so. If not, I’m sure Bora will vouch for me. Right Bora?” You wait for your niece to pipe up like she normally does, but you’re met with silence. Normally, she’d be the first to your defense besides Jeongguk. You look down to check on her, “Bora?”

At some point in your conversation, neither of you noticed her rest her head against Jin’s side and close her eyes, falling asleep with her hands loosely holding the cup you’ve been holding onto.

“Looks like someone fell asleep…” Jin laughs, wiping away some more chocolate that collected at the sides of Bora’s mouth. He grabs the cup out of her hands and watches them fall to her lap, Bora only twitching slightly in her sleep. He holds it out to you, “Well, we’ll just hand this back to you then.”

“Thanks.” You take another look at Bora and take notice of her small shivers. You’d have to wrap up your conversation and head home soon, “Oh, looks like someone’s cold too.”

“Here-“ Jin is quick to unwrap his scarf from his own neck and place his over the one she’s already wearing. Then, he unzips his oversized coat and carefully picks up Bora from the bench, carefully placing her on his lap and tucking her into as much of his coat as he can. After being re-scarfed and tucked away, the only thing you can still see of her are her chubby little cheeks and closed eyes. “This is what big coats are for, right? Though, I guess yours would be to hide stolen goods.” He jests.

“Oh, definitely.” You agree, though not as playfully. You can’t help but notice how great he is with kids, and a pit forms in your stomach when you realize he has to have some kind of practice at this kind of thing. A man as handsome as him would have to have at least a girlfriend, right? It makes sense that he’d be tied down and just hasn’t mentioned it. You try to rationalize it in your head. Plenty of guys flirt when they’re married, but a lot of them would never actually take any of the offers. “Do you have any kids?”

“Oh, no! Helping Jimin and Namjoon is as close as I get to parenting.” He laughs.

“Really?”

“What? Surprised my handsome face hasn’t captured someone’s heart?” He asks playfully, using a hand that’s not holding Bora steady to accentuate his features.

“No, you’re just too good with kids to not have much experience.” You reply honestly.

“You think so?” He asks. He seems surprised, but you nod to assure him that you mean what you said. He shrugs, “Well, my dad works with kids year round, so I guess I just picked up on it.”

“Is he a homemade goods baker extraordinaire as well?” You joke.

“In a way.” He smiles, but you can see his expression change as he thinks about it more, “He used to make toys with his dad and deliver them, but he’s found that he likes delivering more.”

“That’s nice. It’s not everyday you find something you’re good at and love doing.”

Jin rolls his eyes, “Yeah, he doesn’t seem to feel the same way with me.”

“What? He doesn’t appreciate his son’s excellent social skills, his blooming business, or his decorating skills?” You ask, attempting to cheer him up with flattery.

“He doesn’t like that I don’t want to continue the family business.” He answers honestly, seemingly disappointed. Whether that’s with himself or his father, you can’t tell. Either way, this is a Jin that you haven’t met yet.

You can’t really say that you like it.

You tap his arm, “Well, tell him tough cookies!”

He shakes his head and sighs, “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is!” You turn to him, resting your arm on the back of the bench so you can make sure he sees and hears you very clearly, “I wanted a raise last month and I thought my boss would never give it to me. Do you know how I got it?”

“How did you get it?” He asks, figuring you’d tell him even if he didn’t ask.

“I told him I wanted one and the benefits. And do you know what he did?”

“Give you an extra 30 cents?”

“He promoted me to a higher position so he could pay me better,” You correct, “I’m doing a little more work, but it hasn’t changed the way I worked before.” You can see him thinking about it. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you’re no stranger to tough conversations with family. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the boys coming over through the snow and you tap Jin’s arm so he knows as well. But before they get too close, you make sure to finish the conversation with encouragement, “You should talk to your dad.”

“I’ll see.” He doesn’t seem confident in your suggestion, but he seems to accept it as an idea. The boys finally make their way through the snow, faces red and out of breath.

“Ready to go boys?” Jin asks, putting a smile on his face again.

“Yeah, it’s cold.” The older boy complains. Now that he’s closer, he really does look like Namjoon. You can imagine their parents get them confused all the time.

“And I’m hungry!” The smaller boy adds, his puffy cheeks and tired expression matching that of Jimin’s.

“We’ll take care of that when we get home,” Jin assures him.

You stand from your spot on the bench and stretch, “It’s probably best I get Bora home too.”

“Do you need help with her?” Jin asks, his eyes looking between you and the area behind you.

You wave your hand in dismissal, “I should be fine. Let me just grab her before you move.”

You bend down to carefully grab Bora out of his arms, hoping she stays asleep for you just as she did for him. You don’t notice Jin's gesture to Jimin to clear the pathway behind you, nor do you notice the sudden gust of wind that clears the walkway and blows snow onto unsuspecting children and previously clean cars.

You get Bora in a comfortable position on your hip with her head resting on your shoulder and turn around, taking notice of the suddenly clean sidewalk, “Oh, wow! I never noticed them clear the pathway.” You don’t remember seeing anyone clearing it, but you don’t tend to notice too much when you’re enjoying yourself, “I guess you do make pretty good company.”

“I always do.” Jin stands, zipping up his large coat to escape the cold, “Will I see you around again?”

“I am here for another week and a half, so I’m sure we’ll see each other in another day or two~” You assure him, much more excited for your next run in than you had been before.

“Great! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Same here.” You bid him goodbye with one last smile and make your way down the freshly clean pathway, adjusting Bora one more time for your decent trek home.

Jin watches you go, hoping that your next meeting will be very soon.

“Will I see you around again~?” Jimin copies, pitching his voice.

“Only in your dreams~” Namjoon jokes in his own pitched voice, both him and Jimin bursting into childish giggles.

“You’re both so funny,” Jin comments dryly. He waves his hand down to the tree above them, and a pile of snow comes falling down, covering both elves in a cloud. Jin smirks, “So, so very funny indeed.”

Anyone that wants to buy presents better than a knick knack will have to take the train to the next station over. That town has a large mall with much more options than your small hometown. When you were younger, Yoonji, Yoongi, and Hoseok would tell your parents they were taking you to the park, but the 3 of you would actually go ice skating instead. You never quite got the hang of it.

None of you did really.

“What do you think about this?”

You turn around to see Hoseok holding up a child’s dress covered in purple glitter. He has it pulled flat against his hoodie, and he has one leg pulled in front of the other like you’d just caught him doing something he shouldn’t.

“I think red is more your color, Hobi.” You reach behind him to grab an almost identical piece in red and hold it just off to the side and laugh, “Oh yeah! Red is definitely for you.”

Taehyung pops up beside him with a pink, velvet, long-sleeve dress with white trim, “I think this one matches my eyes.”

“Oh! Where did you find that?!” Hoseok grabs the dress from Taehyung and immediately starts looking for the size, “Bora would love this!”

“They’re right over there, that second rack.” Taehyung points him in the right direction and Hoseok is quick to make his way over there, “Don’t go far, I’ll be right back!”

“Good eye.” You comment, liking the dress he’d picked out as well.

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s fashion~” He says, very confidently in the ugliest Christmas sweater you’d thrown at him this morning. He looks down when he remembers what he’s wearing, but he doesn’t let that tarnish his reputation, “My current outfit excluded.”

“Wow, I’m hurt!” You feign your offense, knowing very well what you had done to both him and Hoseok this morning. “Is this just a one time exception then?”

He shrugs, “Depends on the occasion.” He looks at the items in your hand and grabs at the hoodie hanging on your arm, “What have you found?”

“I was thinking about getting this.” You set down your bags from other stores to pick up the outfit you’ve been sitting on. Just a simple type-dye hoodie and sweatpants combo with a unicorn embroidered on the front of the hoodie and the pants, “Hobi takes her to his dance classes after school a lot, and I think she’d like it.”

“It’s definitely cute. It even has her best color in it.” He laughs, pointing out the smallest amount of pink.

“Yeah, pink is definitely her thing. Yoonji tried so hard to get her to like purple or yellow or anything but pink, but Bora just latched onto it like it was candy.” You still remember the day Yoonji called you on the phone to try and talk some sense into her daughter, but you just sat and listened to Bora list her favorite things with pink on them. You could even hear Hoseok laughing at Yoonji in the background and adding onto the list. As much as you don’t enjoy being questioned about your love life and when you’ll settle down, you have to admit that the thought of a tiny human that wants to tell you about their favorite things makes your heart just a little bit happier.

“Okay, they have the dress in Bora’s size, but they also have this one!” Hoseok comes to a stop. Not only is he holding the dress Taehyung had found, but he has a fully, pink sequined romper in his other hand. Under the slightly dimmed store lights, it already shines. You can’t imagine how it would look next to the Christmas tree, not to mention the sound that it’s already making on the hanger. “What do you think?”

You can only stare at it and think of all the curses that Yoonji could say about it, each one more colorful than the last, “I think your wife will strangle you if you buy that for Bora.”

Taehyung raises his hand and interjects, “I think it’s worth the pain.”

Hoseok uses the hand holding the romper to point at him, “I like Taehyung’s answer better.”

“That’s because you don’t want to hear reason!” You argue.

“What was that?” He asks. He starts moving back, grabbing the bags he’d sat down and trying to pull away to the cash registers, “I can’t hear you over the sound of my feet walking to check out my things!”

“Oh, you’re ridiculous!” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs.

You all check out the items your getting, adding more bags to your already full hands. You’d been to plenty of last minute stores today, and you weren’t even done yet. It’s a unanimous decision to have a seat while you still have a chance.

Your bags are placed at your feet, some tied to each other and others placed inside of other bags to ensure you don’t lose one. You lean against the back of the bench and sigh, “Taehyung, let me tell you, if you act anything like Hoseok when you and Yoongi get married, then I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”

Hoseok lifts himself up and peers around from Taehyung’s other side, “What’s wrong with me?” He asks, as if he isn’t the person with the most bags.

“When Yoongi and I get married?” Taehyung reiterates. He sounds nervous, but also hopeful, “You really think he likes me that much?”

“As his best friend-“ Hoseok places a comforting hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, “If he likes you enough to bring you home, then commitment is not too far behind.”

“Yeah, Yoongi is not one to go outside of his comfort zone if he doesn’t have to.” You agree. You remember a high school Yoongi that would never talk about girls, never talk about his problems, and never go out of his way to do something if it didn’t involve his well-being, “If he didn’t have to tell our parents about you or tell our parents about himself or put himself in a slightly uncomfortable position, then he wouldn’t have. You have to be really special for him to take such big risks.”

Taehyung looks down, his smile disappearing, “Yoongi’s been terrified for this trip if I’m going to be honest.” He admits, “He almost called it off entirely.”

Hobi sighs, “Yeah, he called me about that...I had to talk him down.”

They both seem to have been thinking about this trip for a while. Out of everyone, Hoseok has always known about Yoongi’s preferences and who he is. Yoongi had told you over the phone when he’d first told everyone about Taehyung that he would’ve moved in with you, or stayed under Bora’s bed with Hoseok and Yoonji. You were very pleased to hear that your parents took the news well. Just knowing that Yoongi has someone like Taehyung thinking about him and his worries makes you all the more happy they’re together.

“I’m glad you did. I’m honestly having a great time with everyone! It’s been awhile since I’ve been around family.” Taehyung says. He still seems to be in his own little world, thinking of a time that must not have been very easy for him.

You take this moment to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, “Well, as long as you don’t break Yoongi’s heart, then you’re more than welcome to stay forever.” You offer, but you’re quick to add the fine print as well, “But if you do break his heart then I have to break your legs.”

“Both?” He asks. He looks down at his legs and back to you with puppy dog eyes, “Can’t you just do one?”

You shake your head, “Sorry, Taehyung. Both legs would have to go, it’s non-negotiable.”

He nods in understanding, “I’ll keep that in mind. You’re scarier than you let on. I thought Yoonji was terrifying.”

“She’s talked to you already?” You ask, surprised that she’d start her scare tactics so early.

However, your surprise seems to take Taehyung by surprise, “Not yet?”

“Sleep with one eye open, kid.” Hobi laughs, knowing just how scary his wife can be. Taehyung gives a nervous laugh, but you can tell both you and Hoseok have struck fear into him of your eldest sibling.

He’ll probably be fine though.

Probably.

Hoseok stands up, “Hey, watch my stuff real quick? I wanna hit the bathroom before we get back to shopping.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod. You gesture for him to scoot his stuff over and Taehyung scoots over to help as well.

Hobi picks up the furthest bag and goes to pass it to you until it’s almost in your hand and he pulls it back, “No peeking.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” You reassure him, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Mhm…sure.” He hands the bag over and scoots a few more bags over with his foot before jogging off to the hallway underneath the bathroom sign. You think he’s actually gone until his head pokes around the corner and he mouths ‘I’m watching you’ and disappears again. You can only shake your head at your ridiculous brother-in-law.

“Can I ask you something?” Taehyung asks.

“Of course, what’s on your mind?”

You think it might be something a bit more personal to Yoongi or even your parents, but you don’t expect him to ask about you, “Why did you choose cosmetic administration instead of following your dreams to be a baker?”

“Well, I went to school for business management. I did that for 4 years, and by the time I was ready to start culinary school I just-…I didn’t think I had the time anymore. And trying to start a business like that on my own in the city-?” You’d heard horror stories of people getting in over their heads and flopping after putting in everything to start on their own. You’d just spent years on your own, independent from your parents, and you couldn’t imagine losing everything and then having to go back to relying on them again. That risk just wasn’t worth the stress.

Even if you did take the risk, you’d been working at your company for two years. You’d worked your way up the ranks to a great position with great pay. How could you give that all up on a what if?

“It just wasn’t feasible.” You settle, deciding on a safe answer. It didn’t matter what you did then, because you can only focus on what you do from now on. A bakery is not that future, “The bakery was a child’s dream, and Cosmetic Administration is my big girl job.”

“But it’s not your big girl dream?” He asks, coming to a realization that you hadn’t made yet.

“No, I guess it’s not.” You let that sink in. Cosmetics was never the end game. Even administration wasn’t on the agenda, but it’s where you are now. You’re good at it! But it’s not necessarily what you want.

“Do you ever want to quit and start a bakery of your own?” He asks.

“Sometimes I think about it and what could have been if I just-…took that jump, but-“ You’d thought about it. You’d thought about it a hundred times and a hundred times over. You’d thought about how everything would be decorated, what you would sell, the way that you’d greet customers. But to you, that’s just a dream. It’s not achievable for you anymore, “-That could never be a reality.”

“Maybe.” Taehyung shrugs, “I don’t know…I don’t think it’s ever too late to do something.”

You let his words resonate with you, wondering if there’s really any truth to what he’s saying. But you don’t get enough time to sit it over, before Hoseok is running back and ready to go, “Alright! I am ready to get some more shopping done!”

—-

It’s just a little after 2 when you all get back. As soon as Hoseok parks his car in the driveway, Jeongguk comes barreling out of the house with his coat and shoes on.

“We didn’t get anything for you!” You joke as you get out of the car, but he doesn’t care. He careens right into you as he tries to come to a stop in your snow covered driveway. You have to grab his shoulders to keep him from running headfirst into the side of the car, “Woah! MMA fight isn’t until tomorrow.”

“No! We gotta go!” He urges, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you away.

“Go where?” You ask, holding onto the car before he can just drag you away.

“To BE!” He yells, as if that itself is any explanation for his rush.

“Why?” You ask again, yet to receive a reasonable answer.

He drops your hand and turns with an annoyed look on his face, “Jin needs help!”

You’re confused, “Help?” Jin doesn’t seem like the type to need help.

“Come on! We gotta go!” Once again, he grabs your hand, but this time he’s much more successful in pulling you away.

“Jeongguk!” You take a look over your shoulder to Hoseok and Taehyung, but they’re both already unloading the car and waving you off.

You try to ask Jeongguk more questions on your walk to the store, but he keeps his answers short. Even as you get closer to the storefront, he’s reluctant to actually answer you. It isn’t until you get into the store and see the chaos that you come to understand his sense of urgency. You can see Jin at the front counter checking out customers and getting their goods in order, and you thought you caught a glimpse of Jimin in the other room a minute ago.

“Will you tell me what’s going on, now?” You ask, eyeing the people in the store around you as they bustle around you.

“Namjoon is out sick and they have a lot of orders today. They have their pre-ordered stuff ready to go, but they can’t keep up with stocking and baking!” He finally explains.

“Why didn’t you offer to help?” You ask him, knowing that both of his hand are very capable of stocking.

“I did!” He argues, “I wanted to help stock and bake, but Jin said I couldn’t help bake cause I’m not old enough, but you are!”

“You couldn’t have told me first?!” You ask, slightly annoyed that he couldn’t have mentioned what he was offering you up for.

“I thought you’d say no, and Jin really needs help!” He was right about that. Looking around the crazy store, Jin and Jimin really could use a hand to keep things going.

“Fine.” Jeongguk cheers and you grab his hand to drag him to the front of the line where Jin is still overrun with customers, “Jin!”

For the first time since you entered the store, he looks at you and smiles, “Hey! Just give me like 5 minutes-!” He looks up at the line that’s wrapped into the next room and awkwardly chuckles, “Make that 10. That’ll be $17.22, ma’am.”

“Seokjin!” You grab his attention again, his eyes shifting between you and the customer in front of him, “I didn’t come down here for cookies, I came down here to help.”

“What?” He seems almost in disbelief that you’d actually come around to help.

“Your number 1 fan here let me know you needed help.” You explain, ruffling the top of your brother’s head, “He can help Jimin stock your shelves, and I can get those cookies for you.”

“You both really don’t have to-“ He stops mid sentence when he sees more people enter the store and rethinks his decision, “-but I would appreciate it more than anything right now!”

“Go find Jimin.” You push Jeongguk in the direction of where you last saw the employee and move around the counter to help as best you can.

As soon as you get back there, there’s a wrapping station right behind where Jin is standing, “You can set your coat in the corner to your left.” He mentions, pointing in the direction of a small alcove without looking up from the register in front of him. You do as he suggested, just placing your coat where you assume Namjoon’s would normally go and your purse over it. “There should be 2 or 3 aprons back there hanging up. You may want to grab one for Jeongguk too.”

You look around the small alcove before you spot them under another coat. You grab one for yourself and throw it over your head, setting another over your arm to take to Jeongguk. Though, as soon as you step out of the alcove, you see your brother squeezing his way through the checkout line with his coat in his arms.

“Here-“ You throw the apron over his head and take his coat, “Tie it around your waist, and I’ll put your coat up.”

As soon as you get his coat up, you head for the back room you know as the kitchen. It’s spacious enough with 2 industrial fridges and 4 ovens, reference pictures of their decorations hanging just above the counter next to them. You can see that a few will be done soon, so you take the time to wash your hands and figure out where everything is. The fridge closest to the door is definitely holding their pre-ordered goods, several of the boxes have names, numbers, and itemized receipts attached to them. Their other fridge seems to have pre-made trays ready to swap with the ones in the oven as soon as they’re done.

By the looks of it, they’re running out of their pre-made trays.

You start by asking Jin what you can do for the few minutes you have waiting for trays to be done, wanting to find a way to ease the front line.

“Could you help package orders?” He asks, “I have baked goods and presents that just need to be wrapped up.”

“Sure thing. Which one’s first?”

“I need a dozen chocolate chip cookies and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels.” He orders. He takes a toy from an older gentleman and turns to wrap it himself, “The packaging is right under the display area and labeled, and everything is labeled on the back.”

“You got it.”

You work in tandem. You packaging goods as needed, grabbing pre-orders, restocking the display with what’s ready, or even wrapping presents while Jin types it all in, bags what he can, and collects payments. If there’s work you can split or he knows he can do something quicker than you can, then he tries to voice it to you. At least until you hear the timer go off and you need to switch out the trays. They need time to cool, but the amount of customers Jin has is entirely too unreal.

When it comes to decorating, you try your best to follow what Jin has without messing it up. You’re sure plenty of people might have a few messed up wreaths here or there, but you’re sure Jin won’t care as long as they get done.

“Do we have anymore sugar cookies?” Jin asks when you come out with a tray you managed to finish.

You shake your head and gesture to the one in your hands, “This is it.”

“Shoot!” You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to decide what to do. He’s stressed, and you can tell he’s trying to stay as positive as he can and just roll with the punches. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, “Okay, let’s just hope no one else wants any after these go. Thank you.”

You nod in agreement, but you don’t want to disappoint anyone or let Jin feel like he’s disappointing anyone. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about him, it’s that he doesn’t aim to disappoint.

So you won’t let him.

You find his scale and his bowls, whipping up your own sugar cookie recipe to save time. You won’t have time to chill them, but you’ll at least be able to get another tray out within an hour and a half. You can only hope the other goods we’ll keep him afloat for that long.

You get back out to the front to help, just as Jeongguk comes up to the case to see if he can help.

Jin looks around and sighs, “I don’t think there’s much that you can do up he-“

“Can you take bakery orders from the line?” You interrupt, wiping your hands off on your apron.

He nods, “Yeah, I can do that!”

“Good.” You look around for a notepad and find one that’s labeled for a To-Do list. You take it and the pencil attached to it and hand it over the display, “Start 5 people from the front. Write their names at the top and tell them to tell us if they got any baked goods before we check out their other things. Bring me the lists when your done.”

“Got it!” He goes off to do as you told him and you get back to work, leaving Jin stunned.

“That was a really good idea.” He mentions, getting back into his groove or entering totals and bagging.

“Well, you seem a little stressed right now. I guess you’re just not on your game today~” You tease, taking a breakable item to wrap before he bags it.

Your plan with Jeongguk works right up to the moment that the stove timer goes off, but the line has decreased in volume by quite a bit. It gives Jin a chance to breathe before Jimin comes looking for Jeongguk to help him out re-stocking shelves again. The new store volume gives you a chance to cool and make a few more batches of what you’re running out of up front.

It’s a bit of a surprise when you walk out with a new batch of sugar cookies, and you don’t miss the look Jn gives you when you go to replace the old ones, “I thought we ran out of sugar cookies?”

“Oh, we’ve run out of a few things, but I’m making it work.” You assure him.

He shrugs, “You’ve been a big help up to now, so I guess there’s no reason not to trust you.” He has bigger problems to worry about than whether or not your cookies are actually good. If Jeongguk can vouch for you, then he’ll take it for what it is.

He can at least trust that they’re not poisoned.

It’s another hour of slow, diminishing chaos before the last few customers start to trickle out. Before you know it, Jin is at the door waving out the last customer of the day.

As soon as he closes the door, he turns the sign to ‘closed’ and leans his back against it. He looks down at his hands and groans, “I think I have paper cuts all over my hands.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” You add, showing off your own hands.

“Did you burn yourself?” He asks, noticing a particularly red area.

“Only once. It was when we ran out of brownies and that one customer ordered like 3 dozen.” He gives you a disapproving look and you throw up your hands in defense, “I ran it under cold water. It’s fine.”

“Yes but you shouldn’t have burnt your hand in the first place. Sit down.” You do as he says while he walks back to his register and grabs a first aid kit from beneath it, pulling out some gauze and ointment and bringing it back to you. He sits down and takes your hand in his, “You really saved us back there.”

You shrug, “It’s not a problem, Jin. It’s good to help out neighbors and friends.” You try to ignore how tenderly he holds your hand and how delicately he treats your wound.

“So we’re friends?” He asks, surprised.

“Do you not want to be friends?” You tease.

“No! I mean-” He stops before he almost drops the gauze he’s wrapping your hand in. He takes a second to compose himself and continues to dress your burn, “Yes, I want to be friends. I’m just surprised that you consider me a friend.”

You laugh, “Well, considering I spent about 6 hours of my free time just to help you, I think I‘d consider you a friend. I don’t do that for everyone.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” He tears the gauze at your wrist and sets it in place with some tape. He lets his hand linger, holding your injured one in his and gently squeezing it, “Really. Thank you for your help today.”

You look from your hand to him, feeling heat rise in your cheeks. You try not to make it obvious, but you don’t make any move to pull your hand away. You’re content to let him hold it just a bit longer.

You hear talking and footsteps behind you and quickly pull your hand away from his, missing the disappointed smile on Jin’s face. Right as you turn around, Jimin is walking in with a package and his arm over Jeongguk’s shoulder, “Have you tried her cookies yet?”

“Not yet, but don’t mind if I do.” Jin stands up from the table, taking the gauze and ointment with him to put it away and grab one of your treats.

Jeongguk takes notice of your wrapped hand, “What happened to you?”

You shrug it off, “Just a small burn.”

“Oh my god!” You all turn at the sound of Jin’s voice, wondering what could be wrong. You’re shocked to find him with a cookie in hand and mouth full of a chocolate chip cookie you’d whipped up. He makes eyes contact with you and his eyes narrow in confusion, “Why are you not selling these?!”

“I don’t own a bakery.” You remind him.

“You know, I know you’re here to be with family, but you could help us until Namjoon gets back.” Jimin suggests.

“Jimin!”

“What?! Her cookies are bomb and Namjoon is out until we close the shop on Christmas Eve!” Jimin reminds his boss.

“He’s right. Her cookies are bomb,” Jeongguk agrees.

Jin shakes his head, “I can’t just ask her to work on her time off for family.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind. It’ll give me something to do until Christmas Eve.”

“That’s not the point,” He argues, “I can’t just let you work here out of your own goodwill. I’ll pay you too.”

Now you shake your head, “Just make Jeongguk a tab and use what you would pay me for him.” You turn to your brother and stick out your tongue, “Consider this your birthday present.”

“Sweet!” He cheers, fist bumping the air.

“Well, if you’re sure, then I guess I will see you tomorrow morning.” Jin relents, figuring that he won’t be able to convince you otherwise.

“Bright and early?” You ask, standing from your chair.

He puts his hands up, “That’s up to you, but I’ll be here at 5.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You remove your apron from your neck and reach forJeongguk’s, “We should be getting home for dinner, but I’ll see the both of you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you tomorrow.” Jin stands and takes the aprons out of your hand, Jimin moving behind you to grab what you assume is your coats and purse.

“I hope you don’t mind me sending Jeongguk home with a gift for his work today,” Jimin says, offering your coat and your purse to you.

“I don’t mind,” You shrug, “He did a good thing today, even if he didn’t let me in on it until we got here.” You can see Jeongguk shyly pulling his coat on next to you, his ears turning red in embarrassment.

“Well, we definitely appreciate it.” Jin assures you. He turns to Jeongguk and waves a finger at him, “You make sure you and your sister get home safe.”

Jeongguk gives him a mock salute, “Yes sir!”

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair then,” You announce. You gesture for Jeongguk to follow you to the door and open it, letting him pass you with the gift he got from Jimin and turning once more to say a final goodbye, “The both of you better get some sleep.”

“Oh, we will!” Jimin assures you.

“You too.” Jin joins you at the door and pulls up Jeongguk’s coat hood and then your own, moving a stray hair out of your face before you can. He looks like he wants to say something, but it seems like he settles for a goodbye instead, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah! Goodnight…” You step outside and pull the door closed behind you, waving one more time and turning to make your way home.

Thoughts of Jin flood your mind. How caring and hardworking he is. You think about how gentle he was when he’d found out you’d hurt yourself and try your best not to kick yourself over it. All he did was what any good person should, but the way he did it gave you butterflies. Even thinking about it now, you feel light and airy.

Maybe for once Yoonji was right? Maybe you would meet a guy before the end of the year.

Maybe you’ve already met him.

~Next Part: Read Here ~

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