"So you can have Yoongi—I mean, someone, you can have someone over," Seokjin says, dangling the keys out, "but don't have sex in our bed, please."

"What, hyung? Why would I even want to do that? I'm staying in the guest room!" Jeongguk pouts up at Seokjin's stupid pretty face and sets his jaw, lower lip puckered perfectly, the way it always works against Namjoon and Jimin and Taehyung.

Seokjin crosses his arms. "So you're going to have sex with Yoongi—I mean, someone —in the guest bedroom then. Hmm, okay, fair enough I guess."

Hoseok raises his hand. "Um. We didn't actually ask you to housesit for us just so you could have sex with Yoongi-hyung—I mean, someone, stop nudging me, Jinnie—in any of our beds."

Jeongguk blows hair out of his eyes with a put-upon sigh. "Hyungs. I'm not going to have sex with anyone in any of your beds."

Seokjin crosses his arms, studying Jeongguk with narrowed eyes. Hoseok leans in against him with an identical expression of skepticism. "Hmm," Seokjin says, looking Jeongguk up and down, lifting up and then dropping the string of Jeongguk's hoodie. "Well. Okay. Fair enough. You pass."

Jeongguk relaxes. "Thanks, hyung. I won't let you down, I promise. Your house and horses—I mean, your dogs —will be fine with me."

Hoseok gasps. "Rude! Never mind, Jinnie, love, we cannot hire him."

"We're hiring him."

"We can not! "

"We can."

"Let's just ask Namjoon."

"Absolutely not."

Hoseok blinks a couple times and then whistles. "Wow. You just looked, like, so ridiculously gay right now."

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "I always look, like, so ridiculously gay . All the time."

"That's because you are," Hoseok says, crossing his arms.

"Great. Take your aggressively bisexual vibes away from me, Hoseok."

"Hey—"

Jeongguk raises his hand. "Um. Don't you guys have a plane to catch?"

Hoseok and Seokjin turn to face him. Seokjin tosses his head, hair sliding silky along his forehead. He looks like a shampoo commercial. "Thank you very much, Jeongguk. For reminding us of that, and for watching our house and our favorite doggos. I don't trust Namjoon not to break everything, and Yoongi has work all the way across the city, so it just makes sense for us to ask you. Our darling dongsaeng. The light of our lives, the fire of our loins."

"Um, we've met him once," Hoseok says, also raising his hand. "Let's not creep him out or scare him off or make him think we're cradle-robbing sexual predators or whatever Lolita is about."

"You know that that's Lolita but you also don't know what Lolita is about?" Seokjin teases.

Hoseok reels back, faking offense, a hand pressed overdramatically to his heart. " Rude, Kim Seokjin."

" Honorifics, Jung Hoseok." Seokjin reaches out to ruffle Hoseok's hair.

"I've been inside of you," Hoseok says, batting away Seokjin's hands, grabbing onto his fingers, stilling all motion. "I have been inside of you."

Seokjin pouts.

Hoseok coos and leans in for a kiss, and gets a bite instead, and laughs as he finally tugs Seokjin out of the house with their bags.

"See you in a couple days, Jeonggukkie!" Hoseok says. "Take good care of Kona and MJ!"

"If MJ doesn't behave, you can call her Michael Jackson and she'll settle down," Seokjin adds, struggling as Hoseok tries ineffectually to clap a hand over his mouth. "Hoseok just doesn't want to admit that he named our lab after the late, great creator of 'Thriller' and 'Billie Jean'."

" Kim Seokjin, we have a flight, " Hoseok says, dragging Seokjin away.

And that's how Jeon Jeongguk ends up watching Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok's lovely suburban house and their two giant dogs while they go off to Jeju for some ridiculous swanky dance performance Hoseok's studio is doing.

Which. Okay. Jeongguk has met Seokjin and Hoseok one time, which was at the bar, but—well, it's true: Namjoon can't handle this level of responsibility for obvious reasons, and Yoongi has work and the music store is all the way on the other side of Seoul. Taehyung and Jimin are "busy", although Seokjin had said when he'd first called Jeongguk about all this that he had actually floated the idea to Jimin but Jimin was a bit concerned that if Taehyung ever met Kona the malamute and MJ the lab, he would desert Jimin and Namjoon immediately to elope with both dogs in an interspecies polyamorous relationship of happiness and cuddles™.

So. Here Jeongguk is. Staying in the lovely suburban house of two lovely suburban dog dad acquaintances for the long weekend while classes are out, Yoongi all the way across the city. Jeongguk can text but he can't have him here, because Yoongi has work early. Yoongi has a routine and meds and needs to eat and needs Jeongguk not to bug him, because letting things happen slow means not pushing it. Maintaining independence. Jeongguk can survive without Yoongi. He has survived that way pretty much every night of his life thus far. There's no reason an innocent post-museum sleepover should change that.

(Or a late night FaceTime call the next day. Falling asleep together on the couch at 2:00 a.m. the day after that. Another FaceTime call, and then a regular phone call for three hours the next morning, and then a movie marathon during which Jeongguk had passed out in Yoongi's bed, then texting so late it was already turning light when Jeongguk finally closed his eyes, leaving Yoongi with a calm sweet dreams, hyungie, gnight gnight <3 <3 .)

(Those things are just—normal. People can do those things and they don't need to do them every night and every day and they can survive happy and fulfilled without them. Jeongguk can ignore the way his chest kind of hurts for how much he wants to feel Yoongi's long fingers in his hair as Yoongi's rough voice whispers sleep, Jeonggukkie, it's okay, just rest, Jeonggukkie, Jeonggukkie... But whatever. It's fine. )

Jeongguk makes dinner, listens to music, exchanges idle chatter with Yoongi via text. Yoongi is at work tonight and he has a shift early the next morning, so he's not texting back much now and he won't be tomorrow either. Kona and MJ give Jeongguk big brown doggo eyes, and he feeds them and pouts at them and sighs when his phone lights up and texts back immediately. When he's done sending the message, the dogs are looking at him, judging.

" Shhh. Don't be mean," Jeongguk says. "That means you, Michael Jackson."

Michael Jackson whimpers and wanders off.

Finally, it's bedtime. Or as reasonably "bedtime" as Jeongguk can convince himself 8:00 p.m. is, but then last night he hadn't gone to sleep until 6:00 a.m. because, like, texting Yoongi. It was a night when Yoongi couldn't sleep but was too tired to Actual Talk, which is A Thing with depression and Jeongguk shouldn't romanticize it, he shouldn't, but there's something nice about knowing that Jeongguk is the one Yoongi turned to when he was wired and couldn't channel it anywhere but into short, frustrated, sometimes mean but then immediately apologetic text messages for Jeonggukkie. Jeongguk thinks he wants to stop being Jeongguk and just be Yoongi's Jeonggukkie forever, for all the love and fear and sadness that Yoongi has to offer. That would be all right, Jeongguk thinks at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday after a week of Yoongi-Yoongi-Yoongi. Jeongguk has nothing to do, and everything is boring without Yoongi. 8:00 p.m. bedtime is fine.

The first noise happens when Jeongguk is just settling down into the flannel sheets of the guest room.

Tap tap. Tap tap.

Jeongguk sits up straight. The bedroom he's in is comfortingly small, and he has the door closed but not locked, because it's not like he's unsafe, it's not . There are two big dogs lounging right down the hall. And okay, Hoseok had admitted that they're not really the kind of dogs that would actually attack an intruder if it came to that, but they are definitely the kind of dogs with big loud barks that might make someone think twice about trying to enter in the first place.

(They sometimes scare Jeongguk when they bark and he's not expecting it, but that's a separate issue.)

So. Okay, a tapping that probably is just a tree branch on the window is not the end of the world. Jeongguk tells himself this as he breathes deep—once, twice—and reaches over to shut off the light. It's just the wind. A tree branch. No one is here.

Jeongguk settles into the flannel sheets and closes his eyes. At first it's not bad; it's calm and silent and not too hot.

But then he hears how really silent it is. There's no fan here, not like at home where he has his nice little bedroom with his nice cozy blanket nest and his nice warm electric mattress pad and his nice soothing fan. It's too quiet, and Jeongguk has always been a little weird about sleeping in places he doesn't know well (Yoongi's bed is obviously just an anomaly, obviously ), but it's fine.

There's a beep from the alarm system and Jeongguk doesn't know what that means. It's supposed to stay quiet when you hit stay and the light flashes yellow; that's what Hoseok had said. Is someone breaking in? Is something malfunctioning? Are the police going to come?

Jeongguk pulls out his phone.

Me: hyung do alarm systems beep when someone is breaking in???

It takes a minute for Yoongi to respond, a minute during which Jeongguk stays huddled under the thick, downy duvet, the pillows in a half-circle around him.

yoongi-hyung <3: yeah that's the whole point are you okay

yoongi-hyung <3: is someone breaking in? holy shit hey i'm freaking out

Jeongguk scrambles to unlock his phone and respond.

Me: i don't think so hyung

Me: idk it just beeped once???

yoongi-hyung <3: oh god okay good

yoongi-hyung <3: you're probably fine

yoongi-hyung <3: alarm systems are finicky

Me: ok, hyung <3

Me: I'm going to sleep now. even though it's only like 8:30

yoongi-hyung <3: aw, love, that's okay

yoongi-hyung <3: are you sleepy?

yoongi-hyung <3: sorry i kept you up last night :(

Me: nooooo hyung it's okay

Me: I like talking to you

Me: anyways. you wanna come over tomorrow after your shift or something? or I could come to you!! just for a while. can't leave kona and mj alone long :(

yoongi-hyung <3: I'll come to you after my shift.

yoongi-hyung <3: sleep well, Bunny

Me: thx hyung u too when you finally go to sleep later!! <3 see u tm <3

yoongi-hyung <3: <3 miss you

Jeongguk fights back the smitten giggles bubbling champagne in his chest and closes his eyes. He drifts off easily, the house quiet and serene around him.

The next thing Jeongguk knows, everything is chaos.

MJ and Kona bark loud and Jeongguk hears their nails scratching the floor as they race for the door, howling long and aggressive and startling him awake in the worst way, that delirious sleep-paralysis daze that leaves his heart racing, his eyelids thick and so heavy he can hardly drag them up. He struggles against the shock of it and finally breaks through the sea-surface mute of it all; a glance at the clock says it's nearly midnight, and Jeongguk can hear the wind whistling outside the house, and Kona and MJ are still barking. Jeongguk stumbles out of bed and to the door of the bedroom, only he doesn't want to go out into the hall, doesn't want to see what's wrong—

MJ and Kona stop barking and all goes silent. Even the wind seems to die down outside. Jeongguk steels himself, he's being silly —but he's also just desperately, miserably startled . That's the real issue, not that he's really scared that someone is going to break in. He's just surprised, that's all. But still. He'd been dead asleep. And now he feels sick, nauseated the way he always gets when he's forced out of his REM cycle and upright too fast, before he can process what's going on, get himself vaguely alert and less sleep-dizzy, inner ears prepared to go from lying down to standing up.

The alarm system beeps, just once.

" Fuck, " Jeongguk whispers, pushing open the door, padding down the hall. The alarm system control panel is blinking and Kona and MJ are pacing and maybe they just want to go out, maybe— fuck . Jeongguk keys in the code Hoseok gave him, shuts down the alarm entirely. He goes to the back door and lets the dogs into the tiny yard; they pad away happily, entirely unbothered—probably everything is fine.

Jeongguk watches out the window, uncomfortably exposed with the way the dim lights are on in the house, a stark contrast to the dark of the night outside. Anyone could look in and see exactly where he's standing, and all without Jeongguk being able to see them —Jeongguk walks back into the front room, out of the line of sight of any uncurtained windows (Hoseok and Seokjin are apparently unbothered by the possibility of other humans seeing in their house, which, okay, it's a safe neighborhood, but still ).

Jeongguk looks at the side door out to the alley and his blood runs cold.

"Fuck. Fuck. " Jeongguk races over and flips the lock shut; fuck, he forgot about the fact that disarming the alarm system makes the front and side doors unlock their deadbolts automatically—and Jeongguk had been in the other room with the dogs, anyone could have just walked in through either of those doors in the time Jeongguk spent at the back of the house, no no no—

Jeongguk flips the lock on the front door too, irritated that they're not just regular deadbolts. Why do Hoseok and Seokjin need this stupid fancy security system with automatic unlocking features that make Jeongguk terrified because maybe, maybe there's someone inside, they were sitting out there waiting for Jeongguk to disable the thing—

Jeongguk goes back to the kitchen. He's not quite shaking, but there's this insistent fear-tendril in his mind, growing around the flowery branches of him, ivy choking out the life within. He slides open the back door. "Kona, MJ," he calls, quietly as he can. "Come in, pups! Where are you?"

Kona and MJ come loping up and run happily into the house, and Jeongguk feels a little better for having them there even if they really are just big cuddly softies. They're not barking, at least. That probably means everything is fine.

Still, Jeongguk goes back into the front and resets the alarm for stay mode. The light flashes yellow, just like it's supposed to; all the locks stay locked. Jeongguk pads down the hall, past the empty grayscale bathroom full of shadow ghosts, past the open doorway into Hoseok and Seokjin's master bedroom. There's a split second where Jeongguk is sure he sees a figure in the corner and he darts in and turns on the light before he can help himself. It's just Seokjin's ridiculous hat stand casting a humanoid shadow on the wall. It's fine. Jeongguk is fine.

(He still goes in and checks under the bed, in the master bath, behind the door of the walk-in closet. There's no one there.)

Okay, so it's midnight and the dogs aren't going to pee in the house and Jeongguk is safe in the back bedroom with the door locked and the light— on . Because he's sitting up in a nest of blankets on the bed and probably no one is here but was the closet door open that much earlier? Is the curtain ruffled up wrong? Should Jeongguk go check behind all the couches in the front room? There's something unsettling about everything, something not-right and he's almost definitely just imagining it but he can't help it when he hears a tap-tap on the window again, when he hears Kona and MJ shuffling around, a low growl coming out of one of their throats, probably aimed at the other dog but what if it's not, what if someone is here —

Me: yoongi hyung are u still awake :(

Me: sorry i know u have work tm but I'm just scared because of stuff

Me: mostly the stupid alarm system :/

Jeongguk isn't expecting a response, honestly, but before he's even sent the third message, the little dot-dot-dot bubble of Yoongi typing shows up on the screen, and Jeongguk can't help the fact that it makes him sigh and sink lower into the covers, comforted.

yoongi-hyung <3: i'm awake, Bunny

yoongi-hyung <3: is it still beeping? maybe just turn it off or something, it might be broken

Me: no it's not beeping. just the dogs started barking and it woke me up and then I went to let them out and forgot that when u disarm the system it unlocks all the doors and when i came back the front/side doors were unlocked and i got scared someone could come in :/

Me: it's fine i just

Me: always have trouble sleeping in not my bed :(

yoongi-hyung <3: ...you seem to have very little trouble sleeping in mine.

Me: maybe you just wear me out, hyung,,,,

yoongi-hyung <3: oh yeah?

yoongi-hyung <3: what, with all my angst and depression-neediness?

Me: nooo, hyuuuung :(

yoongi-hyung <3: sorry

yoongi-hyung <3: didn't mean to make it like that.

yoongi-hyung <3: :(

Me: it's k, ugh, <3 i still like u

yoongi-hyung <3: lol

yoongi-hyung <3: great thanks

yoongi-hyung <3: i like you, too.

Me: jin hyung and hoseok hyung told me not to have sex in their bed

yoongi-hyung <3: oh yeah?

yoongi-hyung <3: and why are you telling me this?

Me: idk they just seemed really certain that it was gon happn, idk.....

yoongi-hyung <3: i don't have enough bandwidth for them

Me: kk kk kk

Me: i sometimes don't have enough bandwidth for jimin hyung and tae

yoongi-hyung <3: i've met them once and i wholeheartedly agree.

yoongi-hyung <3: hey, are you feeling better?

yoongi-hyung <3: or do you wanna call

Me: i'm better but don't u need to go to sleep, hyung?

Me: i don't wanna keep u up <3 <3 <3

yoongi-hyung <3: or i could just come over

yoongi-hyung <3: i mean. id on't have to

yoongi-hyung <3: it's fine i'm sure you're fine without me, Bunny

Me: wait you wanna?

yoongi-hyung <3: maybe I just want to defile 2seok's bed

Me: ...um.

Me: I mean

Me: do you

Me: ?

yoongi-hyung <3: jeonggukkie.

Me: what would u do if you were here, hyung

yoongi-hyung <3: JEONGGUKKIE.

yoongi-hyung <3: i would curl up next to you and pet your hair and check all the rooms for creepy strangers sneaking into 2seok's house

Me: oh :(

Me: i mean

Me: okaaaaaay

yoongi-hyung <3: Bunny. just.

yoongi-hyung <3: fuck, do you want me to come over or not

Me: when u get here are you gonna show me what you would do if you were here right now?

Me: i'll call while you're driving and tell u what i wanna do.

yoongi-hyung <3: fuck, jeonggukkie

yoongi-hyung <3: i'm not going to give in and make our first time end up as phone sex

yoongi-hyung <3: or sexting

yoongi-hyung <3: or in jung hoseok and kim seokjin's house.

Me: oh.

Me: OH.

Me: "first time"

Me: so we're gonna?

Me: more than once even?

yoongi-hyung <3: ugh, at some point, yes.

yoongi-hyung <3: if you want to.

Me: ok

Me: but tonight u really don't ahve to come

Me: come OVER, i mean

Me: bc you have work tm :/

yoongi-hyung <3: it'll only take like 20min at this time of night, babe

yoongi-hyung <3: it's okay

yoongi-hyung <3: if you want. if you'd rather just go back to sleep and i'll see you tomorrow, that's fine too

Me: nooo hyung i want u to come over if you want to

yoongi-hyung <3: you're very inconsistent about the way you type you / u

Me: hyunggggg :(

yoongi-hyung <3: see you soon, Bunny <3

yoongi-hyung <3: i'll text when i'm there

Jeongguk is dozing again by the time his phone goes off with a call from Yoongi. He'd been smart enough to turn it off silent because he knew he wouldn't last the 25 minutes of Yoongi's drive over, and when the ringing startles him awake, at least he isn't terrified this time. The light is still on in the room and the door is still locked and Jeongguk is still halfway sitting up, but he slides to answer the call and stumbles out of bed, uttering a sleepy, "Hello?" as he heads to the door.

"I texted but you didn't respond," Yoongi says, voice low. It's nearing 1:00 a.m. by now.

Jeongguk pouts even though Yoongi can't see him. "I was sleepy. I must not have heard the ding."

Yoongi chuckles, rough and late-night glowing. "It's okay, honey. It's funny you even answered. I kind of thought you'd just come answer the door."

"I'm trying to, hyung," Jeongguk whines, stepping around MJ to get to the front door lock. He flips it and pulls open the door and there's Yoongi—

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Fuck!" Jeongguk lunges for the alarm panel and keys in his code as fast as he can, because he forgot to disarm the stupid thing and now he's all startled again and Yoongi is shutting the door behind himself and chuckling once Jeongguk finally gets the thing to stop beeping. Jeongguk is breathing heavily and his hands are kind of shaking, maybe. The side door auto-unlocks itself with a smug, stupid whir.

Jeongguk slumps into the wall. "God, I hate that thing."

Yoongi snorts and comes up behind Jeongguk to nuzzle his neck from behind. "Sorry, Bunny. Thanks for letting me come over. I have something for you." One of his hands disappears from Jeongguk's hip, and then he's pressing an envelope into Jeongguk's hands. "Read it tomorrow, once I leave for work and you have the whole bed to yourself."

"Thanks, hyung. Did you remember your meds?" Jeongguk asks, because that's the thing that flits through his head right then.

Yoongi's chuckle rumbles through him and through Jeongguk too, the way Yoongi's chest is pressed up to his back. "Yeah, Bunny. I remembered."

"For tomorrow too?"

"For tomorrow too," Yoongi assures, hands warm against Jeongguk's pajama-covered sides. "Come on. Reset the alarm or whatever and let's go to bed. It's late, lovely."

Jeongguk types his code and sets it to stay again and makes sure the deadbolts are locked. He turns around finally, eyeing Yoongi with his bottom lip bitten between his teeth. "Hey."

"Hey," Yoongi says, looking up at him just barely, his chin tipped down a little. He looks vulnerable and warm in his hoodie and sweats, a leather jacket over the lounge clothes, chunky Nikes on his feet. He's still wearing makeup but it's a bit smeared around the edges of his eyes. "You look cute in your pajamas, Jeonggukkie." The blush staining Yoongi's cheeks makes Jeongguk's butterfly stomach flutter flutter flutter.

"Thanks," Jeongguk whispers. "Sorry you'll have to drive really far tomorrow, hyung."

"It's okay," Yoongi says, reaching up to tuck hair behind Jeongguk's ear. "Your bobby pin is falling out." He fiddles with the clip until it's right, and then his hand just kind of lingers. "Um. Come on. Want me to check for monsters?"

Jeongguk huffs. "It's fine, hyung. There are no monsters. Except Kona and MJ."

Yoongi chuckles and pets the dogs when they perk up at their names and come trotting over, obviously familiar with Yoongi. "Hey, girls. Nice to see you."

Kona licks his hand. MJ tries to leap up but Yoongi steps back right away, and instead she lands back on the floor with a scrabbling scratch of claws.

"Come on. Bed," Jeongguk says, taking Yoongi's hand.

"Sure, Bunny. Night, Kona. Night, MJ." Yoongi slips out of his shoes, leaves his backpack on a hook by the door. Jeongguk leads him down the hall to the bedroom, and Yoongi discards his jacket over the chair in the corner, yawning in the yellow lamplight.

"Did you have a good day?" Jeongguk asks as he slips under the covers.

Yoongi nods. "Yeah. Nothing special. Just a normal shift."

Jeongguk curls up beneath the duvet. "That's good," he yawns. "Thanks for coming over."

"Hey, I'm gonna wash my face really quick," Yoongi says. "Or maybe shower. I put on pajamas but I like—wasn't actually being productive getting ready for bed before I left."

Jeongguk nods through another yawn. "Okay, hyung."

Yoongi leaves looking put-together if tired, his skin smooth with makeup that makes it lighter than it really is, eyes dusted with pink-mauve eyeshadow, no mascara but maybe some liner. His hair is puffed up, full of product and still soft but it looks a little stiff the way it's curled. Jeongguk watches Yoongi pad his way out, shutting the door behind him (how did he know Jeongguk would need that) and leaving calm quietude in his wake.

It only takes Yoongi maybe ten minutes to shower and come back. Jeongguk's eyes are closed when Yoongi pushes through the door and he doesn't bother opening them, sleepy as he is. Jeongguk feels the moment when Yoongi crawls under the covers and lies down on his side, and there they are, parenthetical: Jeongguk, a flower reaching up day after day for Yoongi, the sun. "Thanks for having me."

"Thanks Hobi-hyung and Jinnie-hyung for saying I could invite you," Jeongguk murmurs. His eyes flutter open just enough to see Yoongi smile, peach-soft and pretty.

"Can I shut off the light?"

"Yeah," Jeongguk whispers, eyes closed again.

And Jeongguk expects, once Yoongi has flicked the switch and resettled between the sheets right there in front of Jeongguk, that things will go how they've always gone before. That Yoongi will sigh, and pull Jeongguk close, and Jeongguk will go easily and they'll fall right asleep—

But there's something in the darkness. Something lovely and shimmery and vast, a benevolent non-presence that makes Jeongguk feel guarded and safe and warm, and he wants to open his eyes so he does—

Everything stops. Yoongi is lying next to him with damp hair and no makeup, skin gold and eyes smiling. His face is squished against the pillow but Jeongguk can see the shape of it, sharp cheekbones and a narrow jaw, the bottom of a heart, cat eyes sitting dainty below strong brows.

"Bunny?" Yoongi whispers, and Jeongguk's expression must give something away because Yoongi looks suddenly understanding, ethereal with the mutual realization of this breathless whatever—

Jeongguk looks at Yoongi and thinks—fuck, he can feel the ghost shape of Yoongi's jaw cradled in his palms, can sense the phantom touch of those cheekbones under his adoring fingertips. Yoongi's chin is tipped down, his lips blossoming peach against his makeup-less skin, and there are bags under his eyes, and his hair isn't coiffed into any sort of shape, it's just dangling straight, parted soft around his eyes—Jeongguk can feel the tickle of that, too, at the tips of his fingers. Jeongguk looks at Yoongi and his hands twitch for knowing: that's what that would feel like to touch.

And Jeongguk hasn't yet touched, but the way Yoongi is looking at him, wary of being vulnerable and yet attentive, brave, there's a soft give to him—"Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk whispers, sliding forward, curling their ankles together. "Yoongi-hyung. Can I kiss you?"

Yoongi blinks, the sharpest little inhale marking the stop-short of his diaphragm, the off-balance dizziness Jeongguk has somehow, amazingly, evoked. "Jeonggukkie," Yoongi says, looking down at the space between them, suddenly nervous. "Yes, I—if you want to. If you don't mind it happening...that way. In Hobi and Jin-hyung's guest room, late at night, with me looking—silly. You could have done it before I showered."

Jeongguk shakes his head, hoping his eyes are as earnest as his heart feels: blooming, full to bursting, strawberries and apples and cherries red. "I don't mind," he whispers, summer breeze floating sweet through his veins. "I like how you look after you shower. And before. I like you all the time, Min Yoongi."

Yoongi swallows, his eyes nebulous and glimmering in the moonlight. He tilts forward just barely, eyes fixed down. "Jeonggukkie..."

Jeongguk takes in the look of Yoongi and his palms tingle with how vividly he can feel it, taste it. But: "We don't have to, hyung. If you want it to be different."

Yoongi's inhale is shuddery, tight. "Bunny...what happened to taking it slow?"

"We have been," Jeongguk whispers, pouty but not demanding; he prays Yoongi can hear the lack of pressure in his voice. He reaches up, dances fingertips over the shell of Yoongi's ear. "But we can wait a little longer."

"It's just," Yoongi starts, snuggling deeper into the blanket, the rustle of it like the scratch of pen on paper. Yoongi, inking meaning into this heretofore blank moment, space and time devoured by the irreversible collapse of future into present. But Jeongguk doesn't feel it collapsing; he only feels the perfect honesty of it, this is how it happened, the story written into the walls of the room, and the fabric of the covers, and the birdsong of their hearts. Yoongi sighs. "It's just. Remember in my letter, when I said that you never know when something is the last?"

Jeongguk blinks, uncertain, because he can't be certain. He can't be sure that Yoongi is implying what Jeongguk thinks he's implying, but—he can believe, and he does. Jeongguk believes. "Yeah, hyung. I remember."

Yoongi is careful with his fingers as they touch along the edge of Jeongguk's flannel button-down pajama top. "And last first things."

Jeongguk nods. They're tucked so close together now, the mattress squishy-firm memory foam beneath them, the duvet down feathers, the darkness all thick and velvet. "I remember."

Yoongi sucks in a breath. "Maybe I think...maybe I just think this will be a last first. For me."

Jeongguk knocks his head that last inch forward into Yoongi's, grabs Yoongi's hands where they rest softly on the mattress. He traces the shape of Yoongi's knuckles helplessly, links their fingers together, drags them apart. "That's—oh, hyung. " Jeongguk doesn't even know what to feel. "We've already done some of them, haven't we? We had our first date, and we've slept in a bed together a bunch of times. Or on the couch."

"Like, five."

"That's a bunch. Five is a bunch of, like, bananas," Jeongguk whines.

Yoongi draws back with a light laugh, a lighter sigh. "Maybe I just want it to be spur of the moment," he says. "Like, you can kiss me. Sometime. But just—surprise me."

Jeongguk nods. "Okay. What about if right now, I kissed your cheek, though. Or, like, your nose."

Yoongi's grin flares up and then calms again, soft. "Sure, love. If that's what you want. Then yes."

Jeongguk leans in. "I just want to be close to you," he says, nosing his way under Yoongi's jaw, getting his hands on Yoongi's hips. "I just want to be close."

Yoongi sucks in a breath as Jeongguk's lips brush his collarbone, and his hands grip Jeongguk's wrists. "Yeah," he sighs, shaky and drawn-out. "Yeah, please— Jeonggukkie —"

Jeongguk's teeth are sharp at Yoongi's skin, not biting but sucking a little, working the skin, pulling Yoongi flush against him. He lets his lips go wide, wet, the sound of it loud in the quiet room, and Yoongi shudders as a whine tears out of him, leaving him limp and shaky in Jeongguk's arms.

"This okay?" Jeongguk asks, dragging his lips and teeth and tongue up Yoongi's throat.

" Fuck —yeah, Jeonggukkie," Yoongi whispers, opening his legs so Jeongguk can slot his thigh between them. They move together with intent, but not the sort of intent Jeongguk is used to, not lust and sex and dirty mutterings and fumbling for a condom in the nightstand of a person you'll never see again. Jeongguk has never been promiscuous, exactly, but he's had his hookups. Had a first love and a first heartbreak at the end of high school, had a short NSA fling with Yugyeom during the first semester of college.

But none of that had ever been this: intent, but intent towards intimacy, closeness, the most innocent pursuit to become one with a person whom you care about so much you cannot bear to be separate from. They're not going to go all the way or anything; Jeongguk does want to take things slow, and be delicate about it, not because Yoongi is fragile but because they both are, not because Jeongguk is cautious but because they both want this to last. So it goes: the push and pull of hands on clothes, and on skin. Shirts rucked up around ribs, stomachs heaving and Yoongi's is so perfect and soft. Both of them with hair mussed around foreheads, legs tangled and fingers intertwined, eyes closed, necks bared for the claim of each other's teeth.

"Love," Yoongi gasps, hoarse, and it takes a minute for Jeongguk to realize Yoongi is addressing him, "love, baby, come— here, god." Yoongi drags Jeongguk in closer, stops moving just to hold Jeongguk tight tight tight, bare stomachs flush together, ribs knocking, knees bruised like plums.

"Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk chants, eyelids so fluttery he can't get them open. "Yoongi-hyung, Yoongi-hyung." Yoongi clutches, and Jeongguk clutches back.

They lie in silence for a minute, five minutes, ten. Jeongguk hardly notices the way Yoongi's breathing evens out, the way his own gasps turn to hiccups turn to serenity.

"We should go to sleep," Yoongi whispers after a while, one hand in Jeongguk's hair now, the other on Jeongguk's lower back.

"Sure, hyung," Jeongguk whispers. "Thanks for letting me do that."

Yoongi huffs. "It's not like I didn't want to. Honestly would've given in after another, like, minute and probably begged you to fuck me."

Jeongguk lifts his head, suddenly awake, eyes wide. "Really, hyung?" His voice sounds curious, reverent, every way he wants it to sound. "I can make you beg?"

Yoongi sighs up at the ceiling, tilting his chin back, faking disappointment. "You can probably make me cry if you try hard enough."

"I feel like you're saying that facetiously, but I will have you know that I plan to test you on it at some point in the semi-near, done-taking-it-slow future, so."

Yoongi snorts. "I'm saying it ironically, but like, also not. I, um. You probably could. I know that's not exactly...attractive. A tiny hyung who fuckin' cries in bed. Sorry. I'm not exactly sexy, Jeonggukkie."

Jeongguk's breath is ripping up daisies in his chest. "No, hyung, " he says, entreating, stormy, wild, "hyung, that's amazing. I wanna—wait, do you not want to cry? I won't test it, I won't make you if you're embarrassed and you don't want—"

"No, it's—" Yoongi gives a self-deprecating laugh. "I just. People don't think it's, like, hot, or whatever. You're not supposed to cry during sex. Especially with—like, I'm the hyung, and you're four years younger, and I shouldn't be the one who's going to—oh god. " Yoongi's arm comes up, he throws it frustratedly across his face. "Fuck."

Jeongguk only blinks. "Hyung, I've cried, like, by myself before."

Yoongi freezes, arm still across his eyes. "Yeah, that's—everyone cries by themselves, that's the time when you're supposed to cry."

"No, like. Jerking off. I've totally cried jerking off and I am not ashamed of this." Which—okay, maybe he is a little bit ashamed. But he can live with that if it makes Yoongi feel better, feel comfortable, feel the flower petals and leaves of Jeongguk feeding him photosynthesized sugar and air made from the very energy of Yoongi's radiant affection.

Yoongi pulls his arm away from his skeptic eyes. "You have not."

" Have, " Jeongguk pouts, blinking like a frustrated child, lower lip jutting out. "Because sometimes it's like—lonely."

"Lonely," Yoongi laughs, although it's not mean. The word gets kind of punched out of him, like he's shocked to hear someone actually just saying it.

"Yes," Jeongguk says. "I've only had a couple of sexual partners who I, like, actually cared about, and who cared about me. And sometimes I think of them—like not thinking about sleeping with them again, but just thinking about how it feels to come with someone holding onto you, like and they're actually paying attention to you. Not just a hookup where, like, maybe you come, but it kinda feels like you're doing it alone even though someone else is there. Not like that. The other kind of sex, where you're actually really in it together, like you're on the same team. A sex team."

"A sex team," Yoongi chokes, smile bright and teeth small and pretty in his gums.

"Yes," Jeongguk insists, kind of playing now, it's true, but also kind of not. "That sort of sex. Not having that...it is lonely. And sometimes when I'm having sex alone, I think about that, and then it just makes me really sad. And I cry."

" Having sex alone, " Yoongi mutters, and then he rolls onto his side and fixes Jeongguk with a serious look. "You're unreasonably cute, kid."

"Thought you said crying during sex isn't cute."

"I'm probably gonna cry," Yoongi says. "I mean, if you want me to be in charge, whether I'm on bottom or top, like, then I probably won't. But whenever you take charge, I might kinda...go hazy on you, I don't know."

Jeongguk's stomach jolts with the force of arousal that short-circuits through him. "Oh. Hyung, that's—we should do that. Both ways, but like, wanna get you all comfy and relaxed for me, on your back with your legs over my shoulders, and like—you're still in your super soft sleep shirt, but it's all rucked up and I'm biting your thighs, and your breathing is all kinds of gaspy..."

" Kook, " Yoongi groans, eyes closed, brow furrowed. "Fuck, don't tempt me like that."

"And you can do that to me," Jeongguk confirms. "However you want, we can switch, obviously, just—I wanna have really good sex with you. I wanna have bad sex with you too, and mediocre sex—all the kinds of sex, because I'm being realistic here and I recognize that sometimes subpar sex is inevitable. But if I'm gonna be having subpar sex sometimes, hyung, then I really really want it to be with you. Okay?"

" God, Jeongguk—yeah, okay, you're so—you're so unusual."

"You are too; you're super weird, hyung," Jeongguk says. Yoongi blinks at him and there's this moment where Jeongguk wonders how far he can push, if this will be a push too far—Jeongguk is bratty as hell and he goes for it. "You just admitted that you totally cry during sex."

"You fucking—I hate you," Yoongi says, shoving Jeongguk away with a badly-concealed smile. "I'm gonna shove you off the bed and make you sleep on the floor."

"Hyung!" Jeongguk laughs and clutches Yoongi's wrists, trying to keep himself firmly on the mattress, and Yoongi is laughing too as he wrestles Jeongguk onto his back, as he fits his lips under Jeongguk's chin and bites down, eliciting a yelp—and then a moan, oh, Jeongguk can't help but moan when Yoongi's teeth work at a spot that has Jeongguk seeing stars, and Yoongi is chuckling as he draws away, and finally they end up in a tired tangle of limbs, giddy and breathless.

"Come on, oh my god. We've gotta sleep. I have to be awake in, like, four hours," Yoongi groans.

"Shoot, hyung, you should—not getting enough sleep might make you feel worse; that's a thing, right?" Jeongguk asks, forcibly tucking Yoongi in nicely and making sure they're both comfy. "I was reading some stuff online. People with depression talking about what helps and what doesn't. And lots of people said sleep is a big thing with whether you feel good during the day and whatnot."

Yoongi blinks. "Oh. Yeah, that's...accurate. Somewhat." There's a pause. "You did research online?"

Jeongguk can feel his cheeks going red red red. "Yeah, hyung. I want to ask you about it too, but I don't want to, like, put all that emotional labor on you. Force you to teach me. That sort of thing."

Yoongi goes limp in Jeongguk's arms. "Oh. That's—I mean. I don't mind. Telling you. But that's really...that's nice, Bunny. Thank you."

"Welcome, Yoongi-hyung."

"Thanks for not getting upset when I snap at you, also," Yoongi mumbles.

Jeongguk hums into Yoongi's soft, ashy hair. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"It's just because I'm tired and depressed and also somewhat terrible."

"I'm terrible too. I'm very bratty and competitive and aggressively mean sometimes."

"I do not believe that last one."

Jeongguk pouts. "You just haven't seen it yet."

Yoongi looks up then, eyes wide as saucers, a child hoping desperately to believe. "But I will, right? You'll let me see it?"

Jeongguk closes his eyes. "Sure, hyung. Someday I'll probably be very aggressively mean to you, and then you will know."

Yoongi snorts. "Okay, honey. Thanks for telling me. Thanks for having me here."

Jeongguk cuddles Yoongi in tighter, like a perfect, Yoongi-hyung-sized teddy bear. "Welcome. Now let's go to sleep. Or I know you'll overdose yourself on coffee in the morning and get all hot and jittery at work and not feel good."

"Yeah," Yoongi whispers. "At least if I do, I'll know I get to come back here and hang with you when my shift is done."

"Yeah, hyung," Jeongguk slurs back, already sleepy, nearly dozing off. "You can just lie on the couch and whine about having a stomachache from too much coffee. And I'll make dinner." There are quite a few yawns interspersing all those words. Jeongguk isn't even entirely certain that he said them in the right order.

But Yoongi just hums, fond and sleepy. "Okay, Bunny. See you in the morning. I'll be gone before you wake up though, probably."

"Mmkay," Jeongguk mumbles. "Just as long as you kiss my forehead before you leave. So I know you still like me."

"I'll still like you, Jeonggukkie," Yoongi whispers.

"Okay. I'm running out of awakeness. Night-night, Yoongi-hyung."

"G'night, Jeonggukkie," Yoongi whispers, relaxing even more, and Jeongguk's head is floating away too, off into Yoongi's galaxy. Resting their foreheads together is like bringing the most basic chemical reactions of the universe into balance, and Jeongguk lets himself spiral into the stars, pulling Yoongi's head onto his flower-covered chest, a garden blooming bright, some magical, temporary Elysian rest.

At some delirious point hours later, Jeongguk feels movement as something in bed shifts, and he reaches out with a whine in his throat because he's confused, and still half-dreaming, and all around him is warm-soft-pillowy comfort.

" Shhh. Go back to sleep, Bunny," a low voice whispers, and Jeongguk doesn't even open his eyes; maybe he can't—he issues a little mumbly nothing, and feels soft pressure and hot breath against his forehead, and then Jeongguk dissolves back into the lovely cloudy dreamworld without struggle, just a lovely calm wave slipping over his head and pulling him back to floaty safety.

Some indeterminable amount of time later, Jeongguk wakes up alone. He's sleepy and it's late but Jeongguk has nowhere to be, nothing to do except get up and nibble breakfast, sip coffee, walk the dogs.

Yoongi's latest letter is sitting on the nightstand, propped up against the lamp. There's an extra sticky note there too; Yoongi must have found it in the kitchen bureau or something.

Bunny-yah—

Have a good day <3 see you when I finish work.

I'll come over right after, okay?

Love—

There's no name. Just that last word, love. Jeongguk stretches out under the covers and reaches for the envelope, yawning so wide his jaw pops.

There's no card this time. Instead, there is a piece of paper like parchment, pretty despite its plainness. Jeongguk unfolds the note to see dark, lovely black letters, thin and scrawling but not quite messy. Yoongi always writes in such a lovely pen, the kind of rollerball that doesn't damage the paper or press inky valleys into it. Jeongguk's fingers trace the letters along the left side of the page; Yoongi writes a little unevenly, and his words always angle up towards the right corner. Jeongguk doesn't mind.

To: my favorite flower petal Bunny cherry blossom Jeonggukkie,

Fuck. Your letter, the letter you wrote me—fuck, how did you do that, Jeonggukkie? The way you pieced all that together, fuck—I love using other people's words, I love how you made them your own, or like. You kind of made them for me. You made them yours and gifted them to me and now they're ours, and that's the most beautiful thing you could have done for me, maybe. Making me something. Giving me something that is yours, so we can share.

I don't really know what I should say in this letter, honestly. We've progressed to this point where we already tell each other everything over text, and there's not that much to say once I'm writing it down—like, what's actually worth your time, for me to ink into permanence on this paper? Not that I'm saying you have to keep this paper permanently or whatever, like I expect this to really last forever. Time will disintegrate everything, all that with the lasts and things running out...

Except honey. Isn't that funny? Honey in a sealed glass jar—that's the one thing that exists outside of time. Paintings, sculptures, the Pyramids, even the Great Wall of China—all of it fades and tumbles and falls. Entropy is the animating force of the universe but it also destroys us.

But not honey. Honey lasts, all sweet and bumblebee-made, and it's from the flowers that it can happen. The bees have to do the hard work, but I like to think they like it. They fly around pollinating the flowers, making fruit bloom and seeds grow into new plants next year, and then they go back home to their hives and they all together create honey, and humans take sand and make glass, and put the honey in the jar, and then nothing can ravage that.

But the thing is, the most important part maybe—it's the seal. You have to seal away the sweetness in the glass jar and not break it, and then you can't have the honey. It's only untouchable by time until you crack open the seal to taste it—then it will harden, and dry, and go away. You can't keep your sweetness forever unless you lock it away, you don't even use it.

And then what's the point?

It's stupid; I've spent so long now feeling like there's this little spot at the center of me where all the sweetness got locked away, and it's there, and I can't touch it anymore, but at least it can't escape me if I keep it in my sealed glass jar heart.

Maybe it's my depression brain doing that, keeping all the feelings locked away. Even my feelings for you sometimes, Jeonggukkie. I feel so much for you, but sometimes I can't feel anything at all, and it's not fair to you for me to expect you to be okay with that, like. That maybe I can't be in love with you except in a little glass jar of honey sealed up tight in my chest? I'm working through it and the medication helps, and friends like Namjoon and Seokjin-hyung and Hoseokie help, and you help. But the point is, keeping our sweetness sealed up tight in a glass jar like honey, just so that time can't run out and destroy it...that's not fair to the honey. It's not fair to not let the honey serve its purpose, to sweeten life, and to sweeten us. What's the point of even having honey if you're just going to keep it preserved in stasis, lonely and untouchable and untouched?

Sorry, Jeonggukkie, I think this metaphor has gotten away from me, huh? Anyways. Maybe I just want us to be honey, but the tasted kind, the kind stirred into oatmeal or drizzled on sweetbread or swirled in with warm flowery tea. Chamomile and mint and hyssop and rooibos. That seems like the sort of tea you would like. You would drink it slowly—I envision you doing your homework, the teapot and a cup next to you, studying English or music or photography or art or whatever else you're interested in that day, and you're sipping the tea absentmindedly as the sunlight falls across your back, and you're at my desk in my room while I watch from the doorway and you don't see me but I'm smiling, and I—

Well. Anyways, I'm running out of room, and time, and I'm sticky with honey sweetness and how my heart is like, pounding just writing this, I probably shouldn't be writing this.

Be sweet, Bunny-yah. See you soon.

Love,

Your trying-to-be-sweet, dark-honeyed hyung, Yoongi <3

ps <3 <3 <3

Jeongguk lets the sharp edges of the thick paper scrape against his fingertips. He feels bitten-into and savored, like pomegranate seeds plucked out and binding two souls together in the deepest depths of winter. He feels like a newly hatched bird curled up in a downy nest. He feels like his blood is autumnal honey, like Yoongi is right about the sticky sweetness of this, innocent and plum-ripe and summer. The gray morning light is filtering in the window, and Jeongguk's heart is thrumming in time with the pulse of it all, nature and the dormant spring and the ephemeral presence of sweet Yoongi-hyung swirling like Jeongguk's own pocket galaxy around the room.

Jeongguk curls around a pillow and wishes it were Yoongi. He falls back into dreams with the paper still clutched in his hand, and when he wakes up an hour later, it is still there, timeless and permanent and inked into fruition.

Yoongi comes over after his shift and Jeongguk has to work so hard not to kiss him. Yoongi seems like he knows. He pecks Jeongguk's nose, tugs him in tight, lets Jeongguk wrap all around him like a clingy baby koala bear, and they cook dinner together in a flurry of laughs and dancing around the hardwoods with girl group singles echoing all through the house, Kona and MJ watching them with big, soft, warm puppy eyes.

"Stay here again tonight?" Jeongguk asks when it's late-late, and dark has long since fallen, and the winter night is blustery with snow.

"Eat more soup," Yoongi says, pointing his chopsticks at the half-full dish in front of Jeongguk. They're sitting next to each other at the table. Jeongguk's head is on Yoongi's shoulder.

" Hyung. "

"Honey. Of course." Yoongi strokes his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, and Jeongguk shivers.

"Honey," Jeongguk whispers, nuzzling in, raising his bowl to his mouth for another swallow of hot chicken soup.

"Honey," Yoongi repeats, pressing a kiss to Jeongguk's hair. "Finish that bowl. You're still recovering."

"Flu was like three weeks ago."

"Yeah, and you're still recovering."

"'Kay, Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk whispers, chewing idly at a tender piece of chicken. "Can we have sweet things for dessert?"

"Sure, Bunny," Yoongi says, his arm around Jeongguk's shoulder. "I'm sure we can find something."

"Yeah," Jeongguk mumbles, closing his eyes.

Hoseok and Seokjin don't have much in the way of desserts, but they do have milk, and they do have honey.

Yoongi heats the milk and honey on the stovetop because it's better than the microwave, and after they sit on the couch all curled under a blanket, sipping their honeymilk and tangling their ankles. Jeongguk tastes the sweet cream on his tongue and thinks maybe it's not the same sweetness that would cling to Yoongi's lips if he could taste them, but for now, it is enough. You can hear it in the quiet hum of the refrigerator, in the rustle of their wild vine limbs beneath the blanket, in the brush of skin on skin.

Jeongguk's eyes close without his volition and his head dips forward unbidden. Jeongguk jerks back up, trying to keep himself awake, and Yoongi presses a kiss to his forehead.

It happens again, and then again, and finally Jeongguk just closes his eyes and lets his head collapse to Yoongi's lap. Yoongi takes his mug away before he can spill the little bit of honeymilk that's left.

"Sorry," Jeongguk whispers.

"Rest," Yoongi says, setting his own mug down, curling Jeongguk in. "You're safe, and lovely, and sweet, Jeonggukkie, and I—"

Whatever Yoongi says, Jeongguk doesn't hear it.

His sweet honeyed-heart knows, beating hard as Jeongguk's alertness and Yoongi's words run out.

And I, and I, and I—

Things start to go a little bit like this: Yoongi changes his schedule at the music store so that he's working during the day for three of his shifts every week, which allows him to see Jeongguk those afternoons instead of making him come over at 11:00 p.m. for a few clandestine kisses under Yoongi's covers and then going straight to sleep. Jeongguk's school year draws to a close and he starts freaking out about finals, but Namjoon keeps tutoring him and he's on track to graduate in just a few weeks, which is both terrifying and exciting. The tutoring sessions happen at Yoongi and Namjoon's apartment now, which is great except for the one time Jimin and Taehyung tag along and end up dragging Namjoon away into his bedroom, slamming the door shut and giggling loud enough Yoongi and Jeongguk can hear them from the living room, and then making some other loud noises that have Yoongi and Jeongguk high-tailing it to Jeongguk's, because nobody needs to hear that.

Two weeks after Hoseok and Seokjin get back from Jeju, Jimin and Taehyung instigate another group hangout at Jimin's apartment, mostly because his lease is expiring and he's officially moving in with Jeongguk and Taehyung—which mostly means they can get away with having a really loud party with really loud music and really loud drinking games and really loud yelling. Jimin can't get evicted if he's already moving out the next morning.

Jeongguk accidentally gets very drunk and drags a sober Yoongi away to make out in the bathroom. But they still haven't kissed, and Yoongi is mostly just humoring Jeongguk as they sway together in a musicless slow dance, Jeongguk murmuring nonsensical things about how this isn't special, oh no —

( "This is special, Bunny, look—Jimin even has one of Tae's retainers sitting on his sink, that's so romantic—"

"Hyung, nooooooo, that's gross, that's not romantic, oh my god—" )

A week before Valentine's, Jeongguk shows up at Yoongi's apartment with flowers.

"Oh," Yoongi says, staring at the white petals of gerber daisies, blinking in surprise and accidentally leaving Jeongguk hovering awkwardly outside the doorway. "You brought me a bouquet."

"Not a bouquet," Jeongguk whispers, hoisting the flowers up a little, revealing the fact that, oh, yes, the flowers are in fact growing out of a ceramic pot glazed iridescent blue. "I didn't want to kill them just to get something pretty."

Yoongi swallows and steps back from the door, and Jeongguk steps in. He looks around like he's making sure they're the only ones there. They are.

"So, um," Jeongguk fiddles nervously with the pot in his hands, "I brought you actual flowers, which you can nurture and grow. I know it's February, so you can't put them out on the balcony yet, but...I don't know. If you don't think you can take care of them, that's okay too. Or if you think Namjoon-hyung might accidentally kill them just by, like, existing near them."

Yoongi shakes his head and accepts the flowers, jerking his head towards his bedroom as Jeongguk slips out of his shoes. It's a Thursday afternoon and it's cloudy but not dark, just overcast, the sun grayish as it flutters in the windows. The white walls of the apartment are still kind of bare because Namjoon and Yoongi have always been bad at decorating (and their few pictures are still in boxes, because they've also always been bad at doing chores like unpacking in a timely fashion), but it doesn't feel oppressive or austere or impersonal. It feels like a clean slate, somehow, lots of white space for Yoongi and Jeongguk to write their stories, to leave pieces of themselves on swaths of drywall that will watch them and hold onto their secrets long after they're gone. White space that will soak up a little bit of their magic, so that when future tenants walk in, they might not know the language to read the stories, but they'll feel it— someone fell in love here, someone laughed here, someone cried here but everything was okay. Memories of things that haven't happened, but Yoongi believes they will.

Today, as Jeongguk follows Yoongi into the bedroom and watches quietly, patient, as Yoongi sets the daisies on his windowsill, Yoongi thinks: today is a good day.

(It helps that Jeongguk texts him every morning to remind him to eat, and to take his meds. He's been on the new ones for almost six weeks now, and he can feel himself leveling out, maybe. Having more good days than days that are just okay, having more okay days than bad.)

"You look like an Instagram model, hyung," Jeongguk says as Yoongi stands by the window, rubbing a sticky green leaf between his forefinger and thumb.

Yoongi looks up and the gray cloudlight is tumbling in to spill on Jeongguk's dark fluffy hair, his brown agate eyes, his peach petal lips. "You do too," Yoongi whispers, gaze stretching longingly across the four feet between them, dark cherry hardwoods under their socks, the quiet of a new, still-becoming-home apartment around them.

Jeongguk blinks and his lashes are butterfly wings against his smooth golden cheeks. "I always thought this sort of existence was just in fairytales," he says, moving a step closer, shrugging out of his jacket, draping it over the back of Yoongi's desk chair.

"What existence," Yoongi asks, voice trip-tumbling and pale as he turns to look out the window, as Jeongguk comes to hover just behind him.

"It feels like living inside a book, how pretty everything is. White walls, and open curtains. Like the floor is the pages, and I'm climbing a step-ladder of words towards a meaning that will give me the secret to everything, if only I trust the letters."

Yoongi swallows. "Do you trust mine? Do you believe in my letters, Bunny-yah?"

"Yes," Jeongguk whispers. "Do you believe in mine?"

"Yes," Yoongi says.

Jeongguk nods. "I have one for you now, you know."

Yoongi swallows, staring blankly out the window to the gray-white streets below and seeing nothing, really. He can't look anywhere; maybe his soul couldn't bear to. It would be too much, Yoongi thinks. Jeongguk's garden would be too much. "Should I read it now? Or wait until you're gone?"

"You'll be waiting a long time, hyung," Jeongguk says, and Yoongi gets the sense that he's talking about more than just the timing of Yoongi reading his card.

Some strange shyness steals over Yoongi then, and he ducks his head, hands going to grip the windowsill before him. Jeongguk is almost next to him now; they're nearly touching. Nearly, but not. "You sound so sure of yourself, Bunny."

"Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk whispers, stepping in close enough that his socked toes are almost touching Yoongi's heels on the cold hardwood floor. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

The straw breaks the camel's back, the drop of water sends the dam spilling over. Yoongi turns to look up at Jeongguk with his back to the window now, the glass cold and wintery behind him. The sill presses into his spine, a reminder of the sharpness of life, but it's propping him up too, as he rests there in the grayscale sunlight, Jeongguk the picture of life and lightness before him. Maybe this is enough. Maybe this is the impetus for whatever is next, the gravity to draw a flower to a burning star whose surface would swallow every petal if they ever could touch—

"You don't want this," Yoongi says, but it sounds weak. It sounds like how he feels it, weakly; but Yoongi can't look at himself in the mirror and imagine wanting that, can't lie in bed at night and imagine wanting to hold onto his ribs, his hands, his hips. It's unfathomable, impossible, utterly unreasonable that some other human would ever want him. Who would want these arms when Yoongi hardly wants them himself?

"What would you know about what I want, Yoongi-hyung?" Jeongguk says. His hands bracket Yoongi's hips on the windowsill; and Yoongi is gripping there too, and their fingers could brush if chance and proximity made it happen. If they made it happen. But instead Jeongguk is careful, delicate in the way he moves them like puzzle pieces together, not yet locked into place: Yoongi parts his legs for the long lines of Jeongguk's, aligning them right for the moment when all the infinite, miniscule space between them is at once pressed through, and pushed away.

Jeongguk ducks and locks his eyes on Yoongi's and he looks so young, he'll always look young—but now there's something formidable in his gaze too, something challenging. "You can tell me you don't want me and I'll go; I'll respect that. But don't tell me what I want, please, Yoongi-hyung. Just—please let me show you, let me show you the things I want to give you."

Yoongi blinks and a maelstrom chariots up through his chest, knocking his head back into the window. The thud shouldn't mean anything but it does; it means surrender and acceptance and asking and receiving and giving, and the tension snaps and suddenly it's just Yoongi and Jeongguk, Yoongi-and-Jeongguk , baring their souls for each other in Yoongi's undecorated bedroom, uncouth and comfortable and decadently real.

A crack of thunder echoes overhead and the first drops of rain start to patter against the window.

"Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk breathes.

"Jeonggukkie," Yoongi breathes back. He looks up and Jeongguk's eyes are dark and awed, wide and determined and lovely.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Jeongguk promises.

And then he does.

Oh, Yoongi's wild-wistful head says. Oh, this is what this feels like. Jeongguk's lips are pliant and soft, Yoongi is falling ragdoll against the window and he can hear the tap of raindrops falling heavier by the moment, can feel the tight of Jeongguk's fingers around his hips, can taste the hot of Jeongguk's mouth against his own. They're kissing and it's with everything they've got, Jeongguk opening his mouth and darting careful licks at Yoongi's lips with his delicate tongue, and it sends Yoongi's head spinning, his hands flying up to hang desperate from Jeongguk's shoulders. Jeongguk's fingers are back on Yoongi's cheeks and his shoulders are scrunching up—Yoongi's hands feel clingy and desperate, moving to the back of Jeongguk's neck as Jeongguk steps in. Yoongi's foot has a mind of its own and tangles his ankle with Jeongguk's, slides up to Jeongguk's knee and presses at the back of it until Jeongguk is collapsing against Yoongi and the window—

"Yoongi," Jeongguk says, the syllables dragged out of him as he presses in even closer. "Yoongi, Yoongi."

"Someone will—see," Yoongi gasps around kisses, but he's spreading his legs wider, letting Jeongguk hitch his hands under Yoongi's thighs and lift— shit, Yoongi is hovering off the ground now, pressed with nothing but faith and trust and pixie dust between Jeongguk and the window glass, the street seven stories below, the exhilaration of it is dizzying—

"Wanted this forever," Jeongguk whispers, pressing his hips forward to hold Yoongi up, and probably for other reasons too. "Want to— hyung, please—" His hips give an uncoordinated, helpless jerk forwards. There's a low coil of pleasure curling and uncurling in the lovely depths of Yoongi's stomach, and he thuds his head against the glass again, throat bared with a wrecked-out groan. " Hyung, " Jeongguk whines.

"Yeah," Yoongi gasps, clinging to Jeongguk, "yeah, just—bed. 'S right there, Bunny."

"'Kay," Jeongguk says, dragging his lips down Yoongi's jaw. His tongue is dexterous and hot as he pulls them away from the window.

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters when gravity slides them all together for a delirious, intoxicating second before they're landing on the lovely, soft mattress covered by Yoongi's cream-beigey duvet.

"Wanna touch you," Jeongguk gasps, getting his fingers under Yoongi's shirt. "Wanna touch, can I—can I touch you, hyung?"

"Yeah," Yoongi gasps, arching helplessly into the touch as Jeongguk rakes his fingernails down Yoongi's ribs, his sides. He gasps again when Jeongguk repeats the motion, and the kid is grinning victorious into Yoongi's collarbone, desperate for more—"Fuck, just—like that—"

Jeongguk grabs a handful of skin just above Yoongi's hip, clutching there like he's trying to hold onto the softness of it, and Yoongi had no idea that was a thing for him but god, apparently it is. "Love that you're here, that I can feel you, hyung," Jeongguk mutters into Yoongi's sternum, almost like he's saying it to himself. "Want you solid, like when you eat so you're healthy and strong and gonna live."

" Fuck, " Yoongi gasps, "that's not—I don't think it works that way. Normal beauty standards, and whatever."

Jeongguk pulls back to fix Yoongi with a disapproving look. "Fuck normal beauty standards. And regardless of the general shallowness of everyone in this capitalist tyranny, fuck the whole saying-you-don't-meet-conventional-beauty-standards-when-you-clearly-do thing. You're hot as fuck, hyung. No matter who's looking."

Jeongguk leans in for another kiss and pauses last second. "Well. Except lesbians, maybe."

Yoongi blinks and bursts into laughter. Confetti bright, neon butterflies all over the room against the white walls and the dark curtains pushed open still and the wooden floor. "Fuck. Thanks for that, kid," he chuckles, dragging Jeongguk in so his head is cradled against the slope of Yoongi's neck, the rest of him pressing Yoongi hard into the mattress.

Jeongguk huffs a couple times. "And asexual people."

"Good representation, yeah."

"Anyone who isn't attracted to cis guys," Jeongguk adds. "Unless your gender identity is not that of a cis guy?"

"No, that's right. You?"

"Same," Jeongguk says, nodding once, very serious. "So. Anyone who does not experience sexual attraction towards cisgender men."

"Right, yeah, make sure we blanket-cover all of them."

"Right," Jeongguk says, kind of huffy and childlike.

Yoongi laughs again and feels Jeongguk move with the force of it. "Hey. C'mere."

Jeongguk crouches up so he's hovering over Yoongi, only a few inches away. "What's up, hyung?"

Yoongi leans up and kisses Jeongguk's nose just to see it crinkle the way he's sure it will. It does. "You're really cute. And sweet, and I think we should definitely go on a date. On more dates. And then we should definitely at some point do all of this, like, with sex and learning how to make each other come and cuddling afterwards. But maybe we should wait a little, instead of just..."

"Instead of doing all the last-firsts on the same day," Jeongguk nods, looking Very Serious again. "Okay, hyung. Yes. I agree." He lifts a hand and his pinky is offered in the most important sort of promise anyone can make.

Yoongi takes it.

"Last-firsts," Yoongi repeats, going a little bit lost in his own head for a minute.

"Yeah, hyung," Jeongguk whispers, keeping their pinkies intertwined as he lies back down but this time next to Yoongi so he's not crushing him, their interlocked hands resting safe on Yoongi's ribcage. "Like kisses. You gave me the best one."

"Nah," Yoongi says, certain now, stroking through Jeongguk's hair. "We can have a hundred last first kisses, honey. Last first shower kiss. Last first post-sex kiss. Last first pre- sex kiss. Last first Wednesday kiss, or Thursday, or Friday, or Saturday. Last first 8:00 a.m. kiss. Last first post-fight-makeup kiss. There are a lot, honey."

"Honey?"

"Bunny," Yoongi amends, reveling in the texture of Jeongguk's silky hair against his fingertips.

"Either is fine," Jeongguk whispers, tucking himself in closer to Yoongi's side.

"Okay, love," Yoongi whispers back, hoping that one is okay too. He presses a kiss to Jeongguk's forehead, and Jeongguk shudders something beautiful.

"You can read my card if you want," Jeongguk offers.

"Thought I wasn't supposed to read it until you leave."

Jeongguk shrugs, awkward because he's lying down, and because his shoulder is under Yoongi's arm. "You'll be waiting an awfully long time. Maybe forever."

Yoongi bites his lip. "Guess I'll write you one back before I read yours, then."

"We could keep them," Jeongguk suggests. "We could each write each other a last letter now, and then not open them—and all the letters we write to each other in between, we could open those. But right now, like, let's write Last Letters to each other, not to be opened until the end. Whatever that end looks like."

"One of us won't get to read the other's letter, then," Yoongi whispers, not thinking about the words as he laments them up to heaven.

Jeongguk goes still. "What do you mean?"

The words tug Yoongi back down to earth, a string connecting him with everything, the vibrations of it all, gravity and string theory and the laws of thermodynamics. "I mean...what I said. Only one of us will get to read the last letter. The other one won't. It's not going to be a breakup we-both-read-farewell-last-letters thing."

"Oh," Jeongguk says, like the word has been tricked out of him into the nonexistent space between their bodies, their souls. "That's kind of sad, hyung."

"Not right now," Yoongi whispers into Jeongguk's hair. "Not right now, when we're this young. We'll be this young forever, in our cards, you know. Whatever you say to me in your Last Letter, whatever I say to you—that's us right now, preserved forever on paper. Right at the beginning. The first of us, giving each other the last."

"Okay, Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk says, breathing again, relaxed against Yoongi's body like a flower soaking up the warm summer sun-star rays. "I'll write one. And we'll save them, and not read them until the end."

Silence falls, then, light like a veil and soft, shimmery, sheer—Yoongi might nap for a while, or Jeongguk does, but either way, they are restive together. Eventually it's late enough that Jeongguk has to go; Jimin and Taehyung's drama is on tonight, and they want their precious maknae home so the three of them can sit around judging the characters about literally everything as is their tradition.

"See you later, hyung," Jeongguk murmurs at the door, still quiet and reposed.

"Come over tomorrow?" Yoongi offers as he helps Jeongguk slip into his shoes. Like the first time they met, the last first time their magic souls would collide.

"Okay, Yoongi," Jeongguk whispers, warm and reverent. Yoongi kisses him once, twice in the doorway, clinging tighter than he should.

"You sure you don't want me to drive you?"

Jeongguk shakes his head. "I like the train. Gives you lots of time to think."

Yoongi nods, because he understands, and it makes his heart swell. "See you tomorrow, Bunny."

"What are you doing for Valentine's, hyung?" Jeongguk asks, brightening as he steps out into the hall, hopeful and young.

Yoongi swallows. "It's next week, right? Thursday."

"Yeah," Jeongguk nods.

Yoongi reaches out and settles Jeongguk's beanie more firmly on his head. "Hanging out with you," he says, smoothing down a tuft of unruly hair. "If that's okay?"

"Let's stay in, okay?" Jeongguk asks. "Either here or my place is fine—we'll do the opposite of Tae and Minnie-hyung and Namjoon-hyung. And just—let me be in charge of it, okay? Let me set it up, and I'll skip class on Friday so I can stay over and sleep late. Make sure you get work off, okay? Or you can leave early enough to come cuddle me before I get lonely and sad."

Yoongi nods and gives Jeongguk one more kiss, this one to his cheek. "Sure, Bunny. See you tomorrow. Get home safely. Stay warm. Do you have your gloves?"

Jeongguk nods, grinning as he pulls them on. "See you tomorrow, hyung. Sleep well. Text me before you go to sleep?"

"I will," Yoongi promises. "And since it's a week out, how about we exchange our Last Letters on Valentine's. Unless you think you'll need more time."

Jeongguk shakes his head. "I wanna do it soon. While it's still the first, and it's still all sparkling new, you know? So Valentine's is perfect."

Yoongi nods. Of course he knows. "See you soon, Bunny."

"Sweet dreams, hyungie. Yoongi. "

Jeongguk somehow pulls himself away. Yoongi somehow lets him go.

Yoongi closes the door and turns to see that Jeongguk left the new letter sitting on the table, addressed To Min Yoongi-hyung, the brightest star in the sky. He opens the dark purple of envelope and finds a greeting card with a fairy girl on it, a star shining bright above her dark, delicate, warrior-ferocious head.

Dear Yoongi-star-hyung,

I don't know if you've ever cared about magic or fairies or anything, but this warrior girl made me think of you. Because she shines like a star, and if I'm a garden of flowers for making honey, then you're the star at the center of the solar system, giving me light to make my blossoms so the bees can do their work.

When I first met you, I kind of felt like magic. Not like it was a magic meeting or something—hyungie, you make me feel like I am the magic, like inside of me there's this magic spell pouch full of all the love potion stuff that makes things like this grow, a bundle of spices and sugar crystals and things to nurture a sapling seed, and I nurtured it because you kept giving me the stuff it needed to grow. Now here we are, and I'm a magic shy violet bush creeping up the walls and taking over the whole garden, and all the bees tickle me when they fly around and pollinate me and make me grow fruits too, and then you give me light and carbon dioxide and water, and all the chemistry and magic gets to work and there's more cinnamon and burnt bay leaves and bittersweet and vanilla and thyme. And the love spell keeps working, and the violets keep growing, and there's so much honey it's all over me, and you, and you're the star...

Hyung, I don't know if it's supposed to be this easy in life, the way we met and the way we talked and the way you like me. Not that I think I'm unlikeable, or that people don't want me, because Tae and Jiminie-hyung are very sweet and they do, and Namjoonie-hyung is caring he does, I think, and—anyway. At first, I was surprised that you liked me because you're so You and I'm so Me but I don't know, it just kind of makes sense, somehow, for us to be the way we are? I'm not as good at words as you are, hyung, to describe why things are the way they are. I've always been shy and impulsive, which is a terrible combination, because how are you supposed to be both of those things at once, like in relationships and things, sometimes I want to say things and I can't, or I say them and then it all comes out wrong and it's mean or it's just not what I mean, and it feels like I'm just doomed to always have a broken heart? But not with you, hyungie. I think you know words well enough to understand what I mean, or to ask for me to say more if you don't, and then we won't misunderstand.

I think it's okay, sometimes, for things to feel too easy. Like us, the way we met and the way we talked and the way you like me and the way I like you. Life doesn't have a plot the way fictional stuff does, you know? Like missed connections and misunderstandings and people getting mad at each other over things that don't even make sense to be mad about. Like when romcom people don't listen to each other and then think they've been betrayed and stuff, and don't assume positive intent? That just has never made sense to me, and I can't fabricate it and I probably won't ever get mad at you, hyung, just so you know. I don't really get mad at stuff. I feel like maybe we should talk about that, the fact that you have as much power as you do? I'm so very compliant, hyung. But I feel safe with you, like I can be stubborn and demand my own way and flirt you into getting extra whip and cherries on milkshakes, I feel not afraid to say no to you. But I'm afraid you won't think I'm strong and brave, because I give in or just run away, instead of fighting. I'll try to fight with you, though, if I ever do get mad, or hurt. I'll try to be honest about my feelings, and I'll trust you to be honest about yours, and to not hate me for being selfish and for needing space and quiet or for needing excitement and praise and all the things I need that you keep giving me, to make the flowers grow. You already give me so much, hyung, and I don't want to take more than you can give. But I want to be safe and cared for too, and I want to hold you tight and make you be safe and cared for, and I don't care if your love gets locked up like honey in a sealed glass jar, because maybe I could help you get it out.

You're such a lovely star, and I see you all fiery and bright blue, and it's the prettiest thing. I just want to be your boyfriend so much, and I shouldn't ask you out in a card but there's that silly EXO-CBX song "Blooming Day" and when I hear it I get all smiley and think of you <3 I want to sing it to you, like "can I be your boyfriend, can I?" Can I, hyung?

I'll make it like middle school:

Can I be your boyfriend? Circle one:

Yes

No

Maybe

I'm running out of room, so keep just being You and I'll be sweet and honey-Bunny Me, Yoongi-hyung.

Love,

Jeonggukkie-honey

<3 <3 <3

Yoongi doesn't realize he's standing frozen in the entryway, eyes roving vociferously over the words in the card, until Namjoon gets home and startles him out of his daze.

"Oh. Joon." Yoongi blinks, still paralyzed while Namjoon slips silently out of his coat, head ducked down like he's trying to hide something.

"Hey," Namjoon mutters, slipping out of his shoes, still focused intently on the floor. Good. If Namjoon is that focused on whatever this is, then he's considerably less likely to ask why Yoongi is standing in the doorway reading a card with a fairy warrior princess on the front of it and a middle school do you like me circle one sort of trope in the inside.

Yoongi closes up the card. "Nice to see you home after two and a half weeks of whatever honeymoon sex marathon you've been on with Taehyung-ah and Jiminie."

Namjoon goes extremely red and glances up, the motion of it baring his neck just enough that Yoongi can see the mottled purple of several bruises, and Yoongi scoffs. "Nice hickeys."

"Shut up," Namjoon mutters, grabbing his backpack from where he'd set it down to remove his coat. "They're—enthusiastic." He shuffles off towards his room, gait stiff like his muscles have been worked just a bit too hard. Yoongi rolls his eyes and starts for the kitchen to find some sort of dinner. Namjoon shows up again once the smell of stir fry gets strong enough to waft throughout the apartment, and Yoongi pretends to be annoyed but gives him some, of course. They're just sitting at the table, Namjoon with a scarf on even though they're inside, when Yoongi's luck runs out.

"Why were you standing by the door when I got home?" Namjoon asks, a bite of rice and chicken balanced carefully between his chopsticks.

Yoongi keeps his eyes fixed intently on the piece of broccoli he's going to eat next. "No reason. I had just gotten home, too."

"Really?" Namjoon asks. "I thought you were staying home today. Since you didn't have work, and your song ideas were all apparently terrible, as you spent all morning complaining."

Yoongi shrugs. "I went to the store."

Namjoon narrows his eyes. "Where were the bags?"

"Huh?"

"Hyung, just—why are you lying, what did you—did you and Jeongguk-ah go out today? Did you take him on a date? Are you doing anything for Valentine's—"

"Hickeys," Yoongi says, glaring at Namjoon, his stir fry momentarily forgotten. "Hickeys."

Namjoon waves a careless hand and almost knocks his chopsticks and bowl to the floor. "You know where those came from, though. There's nothing exciting about them."

"They're ridiculous. I'm pretty sure your whole entire neck is actually just one continuous hickey."

But Namjoon remains nonplussed. "I have two extremely attentive, smart, athletic attention-whore boyfriends now," he says, haughty the way only someone dating a fucking model (or two) could be. "And I say the word 'whore' in the fondest way possible. And because they say it about each other and they said it was okay."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "You sure you're supposed to be using it in front of me, though?"

Namjoon nods. "Taetae and Minnie don't care. They are actually very proud of the amount of attention they require. Like really demanding Tamagotchi. If you could set Tamagotchi to hard mode, that would be them."

Yoongi scoops up a bite of egg and chicken and rice. "If they need so much attention, why are you over here, then?"

Namjoon ducks his head, cheeks coloring. "I'm not invited to Thursday Drama Night."

Yoongi sighs, blowing out his cheeks. "Same reason I'm here alone, then," he says without thinking.

Namjoon looks up from his stir fry in triumph. "Hah. So you did see Jeongguk, didn't you?"

Yoongi flops back in his chair and groans, closing his eyes. "Ugh, don't talk to me."

"What happened? Is he your boyfriend ?" Namjoon singsongs, dimples all evil in his stupid sculpted cheeks. Stupid Namjoon.

"He is not, " Yoongi stresses before he remembers—the card. The star. The EXO-CBX song, can I be your boyfriend, can I? Circle one. Yoongi sighs, lost in his own head suddenly, thinking about it all.

Namjoon is suspiciously quiet when Yoongi finally opens his eyes and sits upright in his chair. "What," Yoongi demands.

Namjoon just gives Yoongi this magnanimous look. He shakes his head. "Nothing, hyung. Just. I'm happy you're...feeling things. Again. If you're happy, or you just like someone. I'm happy you're not just..."

"Lost," Yoongi whispers, tucking himself forward, curling over his bowl. "Yeah. I know. It's not...it's not fixed, exactly, but it's better."

Namjoon nods. "You know you can always talk to me, hyung. I won't tease you. I won't be mad, unless you break Jeonggukkie's heart, in which case I will probably punch you in the arm a lot of times and lecture you until you put it back together again."

Yoongi nods. "I'd deserve it. If I ever hurt that kid, I would come to you and ask you to punch me and lecture me, probably."

Namjoon ducks his head in recognition. "Okay. Then I approve of everything. And I'm happy for you."

Yoongi takes a few more bites, waits before he says it: "By the way, I get the apartment next Thursday. You and Jimin-ah and Taehyungie can have your Valentine's sex party at their place. But Jeongguk and I are doing ours here."

Namjoon holds it together for a good five seconds before he gets all giddy and dimpled and vicious with happiness. "Oh my god, are you going to play romantic music and spread rose petals everywhere and buy him chocolates, hyung you totally are his boyfriend—"

"Shut up, " Yoongi begs, putting his head in his crossed arms on the table. "I hate you, oh my god, just—take your post-good-sex energy and make it go somewhere else."

Namjoon quiets down, chuckling to himself, still way too cheery. "Fair enough, hyung. You do your thing here, and I'll let Jiminie and Taehyungie know."

"Thank you," Yoongi says, short and down to business as he pulls out his phone.

Me: okay we're set for valentines

Me: we're having ours here and they're having theirs at your place

Bunny-yah <3: ok, hyung!

Bunny-yah <3: but can I still be sorta in charge of it? like I can bring stuff over and set up there, or is that weird, also do u wanna hang out this weekend still or like wait for valentimes idk idk!!!!!

Me: jeonggukkie

Me: chill

Me: you can be in charge of valentines day. I'll just shut myself up in the kitchen and you can go to town

Me: I trust you not to destroy the entire apartment

Bunny-yah <3: oh

Bunny-yah <3: don't worry, hyung

Bunny-yah <3: I will only destroy most of the apartment ^.^

Me: I hate you

Bunny-yah <3: you do not

Bunny-yah <3: you want me to be your valentime

Me: honey this is the second time you've done this and I just

Me: I really hate to say it but that letter is definitely not an n

Bunny-yah <3: :(

Bunny-yah <3: never mind, you donut have to hang out w me for valentimes day then it's fine

Me: aww, Bunny.

Bunny-yah <3: meanie

Bunny-yah <3: i don wan hang w u either i hope u kno

Bunny-yah <3: EVER

Bunny-yah <3: but esp not for valentimes

Me: fine

Me: then i'm sending your cards back to you

Me: all of them

Me: especially the most recent one

Me: hold on

And then Yoongi does something that's probably silly, but everything about this whole card-exchanging thing started pretty silly, so he thinks it's okay. He puts his dish in the sink and heads off to his room, Jeongguk's card in hand.

Namjoon looks up from his phone. "Hyung? Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it; keep sexting your hard-mode Tamagotchi boyfriends, Joon-ah," Yoongi drawls, practically guffawing as he heads down the hall, lighthearted and feeling clever.

In his room, Yoongi gets out a pen and grins at the card, drawing a careful red circle around the right answer. He gets all ready, makes sure his hair is sitting right and his lips are a little red and bitten, and then he holds up the card and takes a selfie, mouth all pouty and soft.

Bunny-yah <3: hyung!!

Bunny-yah <3: ur so mean!

Bunny-yah <3: I'm holding on but youre taking forever!

Bunny-yah <3: Yoongiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!

Me: [Image Attached]

Me: see, I'm sending them back

Jeongguk takes a good few minutes to respond. Yoongi waits, anxious, on the edge of his bed, foot tapping as he thumbs around the game he's still losing against Hoseok. Finally, finally, Jeongguk texts back.

Bunny-yah <3: oh.

Bunny-yah <3: yoongi hyung.

Bunny-yah <3: that's

Bunny-yah <3: ok.

Bunny-yah <3: can i change ur name to 'boyfriend' in my phone or is that too cringey

Me: way too cringey, how dare you even ask

Me: I at least changed yours to Bunny-boyfriend <3

Me: like an Adult

Bunny-boyfriend <3: how about yoongi-bf-hyung <3 ?

Me: much more socially acceptable

Bunny-boyfriend <3: can we get matching couple outfits?

Bunny-boyfriend <3: and couple rings, that's such a thing here. tae and jimin-hyung have them, it's really important hyung

Me: outfits okay

Me: the couple ring thing is ridiculous

Bunny-boyfriend <3: 10k won says they get one for namjoon hyung for valentimes

Me: 10k won says they already got him one.

They chat idly until Jeongguk has to go to watch Thursday Drama Night, and then Yoongi goes out into the kitchen to check Namjoon's fingers for a couple ring—

"What are you doing?" Namjoon asks as Yoongi grabs his left hand and examines the silver band curving around his ring finger, new and pretty.

"Ha! I win!" Yoongi shouts.

"What?" Namjoon yells, but Yoongi is already darting back down the hall to let Jeongguk know.

The next night when Jeongguk sleeps over, he pouts for the entire first half hour about losing the bet, so Yoongi takes him out to ice cream. Jeongguk brightens up, eats his birthday cake batter cone, and falls asleep in Yoongi's arms. It's fair enough payback for the bet. Way better than 10,000 won, that's for sure.

"Hyung, don't look," Jeongguk calls for probably the seventh time, heart beating loud loud loud as he puts the finishing touch on his decorations for the living room. There are purple flowers in vases kind of everywhere, and maybe they've had this whole thing about not cutting flowers away from their stems in the earth, but Jeongguk thinks he can probably get away with it for the purposes of this holiday. It's silly, honestly, getting this into Valentine's Day, but Jeongguk happens to have never been dating anyone on February 14th before—hasn't even been sleeping with anyone during it, for that matter—and so he kind of wants to pull out all the stops.

"Yah, I'm not, " Yoongi complains from the kitchen, the words muffled around crunches as he eats cereal dry or whatever he's doing in there. "Aish, you've told me not to look like twenty times. I'm in a different room. "

"Hmph," Jeongguk pouts, making sure the pillows on the couch are perfect. He takes a step back and looks around the room, and then he nods to himself. "Okay. You can come in now, hyung."

Yoongi comes out of the kitchen looking casual in his ripped up jeans, his black shirt with the too-long sleeves and the orange bleach stains Yoongi had added himself. On purpose.

Jeongguk swallows. "Oh. Hyung, you look so pretty."

Yoongi raises both eyebrows. "I'm literally in my oldest, messiest clothes right now. And you saw me when I let you in a half hour ago."

Jeongguk thrusts his lower lip out, crossing his arms. He's not exactly dressed fancy either, but he is at least wearing jeans with no holes in them. "You still look really pretty," he says, hugging himself and pouting up at Yoongi from under his dyed-dark bangs.

Yoongi comes over and tilts Jeongguk's chin up with a gentle touch. "Hey. You look pretty too, honey."

Jeongguk blinks and glances off to the side, faking like he doesn't believe it. Fishing for compliments. "I guess."

"You do, oh my god," Yoongi says, scoffing and smiling. "Do you want me to go put on something else?"

"No," Jeongguk pouts.

"I will, Bunny. Hon. You know I don't mind," Yoongi grins, sidling in closer, peering down at Jeongguk somehow even though Jeongguk is taller. "I will."

"No, don't change, don't ever change, hyungie, I love—how you look." Oops. Close call.

Yoongi lets the stutter slide, calm like he hadn't even noticed the slip. "Okay, Bunny. You look perfect too, so don't change either, yeah?" He leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Jeongguk's mouth and Jeongguk reels away, squawking.

"Hey! Hyung! Careful! We have not had our first Valentime's kiss yet, and I won't let you steal it and make it a bad one!"

"Jesus, you even say 'Valentime's' out loud? And who says that kiss was going to be a bad one?" Yoongi asks, throwing his hands up. "I was gonna pin you to the wall and make you beg for it!"

" Hyung! Romance is dead; you have killed it and it's bleeding out on the floor at our feet, look how sad it is! RIP in peace, romance! RIP in peace!"

"RIP stands for 'rest in peace'. You're literally saying 'rest in peace in peace'."

" RIP IN PEACE, ROMANCE. "

"Romance is dead; long live romance," Yoongi drawls, nodding like he doesn't even care. He glances around the room. "That's a lot of flowers, Bunny."

" Honey -Bunny," Jeongguk pouts. Apparently they're playing that act tonight, Jeongguk the whiny maknae and Yoongi the exasperated but fond, competent hyung.

"Honey-Bunny," Yoongi agrees, eyes crinkling soft as he lifts his fingers to Jeongguk's cheeks and smoothes carefully at the rose petal blush blooming there. "It looks pretty. And the pizza sitting on the table still in its box is extremely classy."

" Hey! " Jeongguk squees, but then Yoongi is leaning in and his hands are pulling Jeongguk closer, and Jeongguk goes, because of course he does.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jeonggukkie," Yoongi whispers, burning like a star everywhere his hands meet Jeongguk's skin.

Jeongguk puts his hands on Yoongi's shoulders, innocent like a slow dance. "Happy Valentine's Day, Yoongi-hyung. Even though it's 'Valen times '."

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?"

"Okay," Jeongguk says, toned almost like he's disappointed, but Yoongi just huffs and leans in to press their lips together, soft and precious and secret in the homey living room light.

It's warm all over the buzzing stretches of Jeongguk's skin, and Jeongguk can feel the electric conductivity of all of it: taut canvas over bone hills, taut paper over valleys. Yoongi's lips are chapped and lovely, pressing in but with a certain give to them, and every feeling is a swell cresting to burst oceans out of Jeongguk's chest.

A few seconds pass and Yoongi draws away, tilts his head and fits his mouth more insistently against Jeongguk's. Their tongues poke out and touch but don't tangle, and Jeongguk lets his lips part just a little, just an early spring bud peeking up for some sun, " Hyung— "

Jeongguk's stomach growls and Yoongi chuckles, pulling away but staying close, their foreheads pressed comfortably together. "Jeonggukkie, are you hungry?"

Jeongguk nods and pecks Yoongi's lips one more time. "Yes," he says. Another kiss. Another.

Yoongi drags his head away, tipping his chin back on a carbon-fizzy laugh. "Bunny. Bunny. "

"Okay, fine," Jeongguk whines, nuzzling the soft skin of Yoongi's throat.

"Come on," Yoongi says, petting Jeongguk's hair. Jeongguk leans away but Yoongi tugs him back in teasingly, fits their mouths together again, again, searing hotter, fuck Yoongi is biting Jeongguk's lip which is such a thing that Jeongguk is into—

Jeongguk stomach grumbles more insistently, and he whimpers, whines, huffs irritatedly as he finally draws away for real this time. "Can we eat pizza before we make out?" He asks, small and childish but warm and smiley too.

"Depends," Yoongi says, lifting a shoulder in half a shrug. "Was that kiss good enough to make romance respawn?"

Jeongguk purses his lips and tilts his head to the side. "No, but the fact that you said 'respawn' was."

Yoongi throws his head back and laughs, leading Jeongguk to the couch and tugging him down so they're right next to each other, the pizza on the coffee table in front of them. "Does that mean there are, like, objectives we're trying to pass tonight or something?"

Jeongguk hums. "Control Point. Not 2CP or Payload."

Yoongi nods. "Right, definitely. I know what those things mean."

Jeongguk giggles contentedly and grabs a slice of the pizza, stomach growling again—he's been too busy to eat today, running around getting flowers and chocolates and nonalcoholic cider and also a pizza, because Jeongguk is an adult like that.

"You're really hungry," Yoongi observes, biting into his own slice with a little less excitement than Jeongguk.

"I haven't eaten all day," Jeongguk says around a mouthful of pepperoni. "Also, I got apple cider. The fizzy kind."

Yoongi snorts. "Was that your champagne alternative?"

Jeongguk nods and takes another bite as he pulls the bottle out of the bucket of ice he'd very romantically and fancifully placed it in.

Yoongi grins and reaches up to brush his thumb along Jeongguk's bottom lip. "Sauce," he explains, grinning as he sucks it off his finger.

Jeongguk blinks. "Normally that would turn me on, but right now I'm just really hungry, so."

Yoongi laughs. "Eat your pizza, kid." He takes the bottle of cider from Jeongguk and cracks open the twist-off top, and then he pours two champagne flutes and offers one to Jeongguk. "Hold on, we're supposed to cheers before we eat, I think."

Jeongguk swallows the bite he's chewing and blushes. "Oops."

Yoongi grins and leans forward for a kiss. "It's fine. Be my Valentine, Bunny?"

Jeongguk kisses back, pouty, faking disappointment even though his whole rib cage feels lit up with fairy lights amidst the lavender sprigs reaching fervently for Yoongi's starlight. " No. Valen time. "

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

Jeongguk's lower lip comes out, his eyes widen, he knows he looks cute. "Nevar. With an 'a'."

Yoongi shakes his head, fond and exasperated. "Fine. Be my Valentime? Jeonggukkie?"

Jeongguk hoots cheerfully, victorious. "Yes! I will be your Valentime, Yoongi-hyung."

"Lucky me," Yoongi laughs.

Jeongguk frowns. "Be my Valentime too?"

Yoongi leans in and kisses Jeongguk's cheek. "Yeah, Bunny. I wanna be your Valentime."

Jeongguk nods, focused and still really hungry but also happy, happy, happy. "Good, hyungie."

They clink glasses and sip the fizzy sweet-tart of the cider, and Jeongguk leans in to kiss Yoongi's cheek. Yoongi ducks his head to hide his grin, but Jeongguk catches it as he sets down his glass. He nudges Yoongi with his shoulder and gobbles down more pizza, starting in on a second piece before Yoongi has finished even half of his first.

They eat in relative silence, and then Yoongi opens the box of chocolate-covered strawberries Jeongguk found at a cute little store next to the flower shop. There's a box of normal chocolates too, but when Yoongi opens the strawberries, his eyes widen with reverent awe, and Jeongguk giggles and puts his head on Yoongi's shoulder.

"Eat them, hyung."

"I'm still eating pizza."

"Eat them anyways," Jeongguk says, closing his eyes as he takes another bite. "They're fruit, so they count as part of dinner. The regular chocolates can be for after."

"These are—okay like, I don't normally eat a lot of fruit, but I'm extremely into chocolate-covered strawberries."

Jeongguk hums and finishes chewing, kisses Yoongi's cheek. "Glad you're happy, hyung. Or not happy, but at least not sad."

Yoongi goes quiet. "I am happy," he says, looking down at his lap. "Right now, at least. I'm really happy."

Jeongguk's grin is wild and unrestrainable. "I'm glad, Yoongi-hyung."

Yoongi nods and stares at a strawberry.

"You can eat it, hyung."

Yoongi swallows. "Um. Jeongguk." He keeps staring at the strawberry, red crown peeking out behind a layer of thick dark chocolate with pink drizzling across the sides.

Jeongguk furrows his brow. "Hyung? Are you okay?"

Yoongi puts the strawberry down with a strange amount of force and turns to cradle Jeongguk's cheeks in both his hands, his long fingers resting soft along Jeongguk's cheekbones. His eyes are dark and sudden and intense. "Jeongguk. God, I know we—I know we said this over, like, card-slash-text message, but just. Can you please be my boyfriend? Like right now, on Valentine's— Valentime's Day, I'm asking you. I love you. And you don't have to say it yet, or at all, but just— fuck, I said I wasn't gonna make a fool of myself. But then I fucking came out here and you had purple flowers everywhere and you got chocolates and apple cider because I can't drink, and fucking pizza, you got pizza which is amazing, and just. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to take you places and call you my boyfriend. If you want. Please."

Jeongguk blinks, and blinks, and feels tears welling up in his eyes as he sits frozen, stunned, hands limp in his lap.

Yoongi blows a big rush of air out of his mouth and laughs ruefully, self-deprecating, as he goes to drop his hands. "Sorry. Sorry, that was—way too much, I wasn't. I didn't mean to. Sorry. Sorry, you don't have to. Um. You can go, if that freaked you out, I mean. Fuck. Fuck." Yoongi pulls away and starts hunching up, shoulders curling in, he's going to put his head in his hands and turn away—

"No!" Jeongguk cries, grabbing Yoongi's wrist. "No, hyung, I want to. I want to be your boyfriend so bad, remember, I asked you! It was in the card, and then you circled 'yes' and it was kind of silly but just—of course I want to be your boyfriend for real."

Yoongi peers up, lip bitten between his pretty teeth. Jeongguk wants to lean in and feel them, so he does. He kisses Yoongi breathless and warm, kind of intense, maybe—Jeongguk's hands are on Yoongi's hips, his palms smoothing up Yoongi's sides, working under his shirt—

" Jeongguk, " Yoongi gasps, leaning into the touch, grasping back with his hands on Jeongguk's neck, pressing closer—and then he throws a leg over Jeongguk's hips and Jeongguk is growling and dragging him in, helping lift him—

"Fuck, you weigh, like, nothing, hyung," Jeongguk mutters into the kiss, getting Yoongi warm and malleable and small in his lap. Yoongi spreads his legs and sinks into the cradle of Jeongguk's hips, their stomachs all pressed together and Yoongi's shirt rucked up but it keeps falling, it keeps falling when Jeongguk moves his hands to touch more—

" Off," Yoongi grumbles the third time Jeongguk has whined and shoved the shirt up only for gravity to get the better of them. Jeongguk whines again when Yoongi pulls back, but then Yoongi is dragging the material over his head and he's bare and he's so soft , his skin and his collarbones and his stomach, all perfect and curved like Taehyung's. Jeongguk and Taehyung haven't ever been a thing, but Jeongguk has always looked at Taehyung's stomach and been maybe a little envious of Jimin's dominion over such a soft, lovely swell like that.

Now: Yoongi's pale milky way skin right here for Jeongguk to hold onto, and he does; he gets a handful of Yoongi's stomach in his palm and squeezes, fingers digging into sensitive flesh. The motion punches a gasp out of Yoongi's lungs and then Yoongi is shuddering forward, half-limp in Jeongguk's grasp—" Hyung, " Jeongguk growls, protective, and then he flips them and lays Yoongi out, presses him into the cushions and situates them so Yoongi can fall lovely and open below as Jeongguk crouches above him and sucks bruises along the line of his throat. Yoongi's legs are draped wide, he's practically boneless as Jeongguk clutches him close like some beautiful, exquisite doll—

But Yoongi could never be a doll. Yoongi is Yoongi, and Jeongguk loves him, and Jeongguk kisses him hard and moans when Yoongi finally gets his arms up around Jeongguk's back, long fingers clutching weakly at his hair—Yoongi kisses back, tongue sliding against Jeongguk's, and then his ankles lock around Jeongguk's hips and tug him down, down—Jeongguk falls, his ribs knocking Yoongi's but it doesn't matter because they're finally pressed together, all aligned, Jeongguk loves Yoongi—

"Hey, I forgot," Jeongguk gasps as he pulls back, "I forgot to say it."

"What," Yoongi pants, head tossed back to bare his neck, chest heaving.

"I forgot when you told me," Jeongguk whispers, tipping in to look right in Yoongi's eyes. "I should have said it earlier. Like, way earlier: I love you."

The air in Yoongi's lungs rushes all out and Jeongguk swallows it up, inhales it into his own lungs like weed or a cigarette and just as dizzying. Yoongi is groaning helplessly into Jeongguk's mouth, and Jeongguk is pressing hard with his hips, jerky and uncoordinated—

"Hey," Yoongi gasps, tugging Jeongguk away, but Jeongguk just starts kissing back down his throat. "Hey, Bunny-yah, let's—can we— fuck. "

"What, hyungie," Jeongguk mumbles, focused as he is on marking Yoongi's throat pretty and bruised, like crushed violet petals.

"Just—you can— fuck, bedroom."

Jeongguk's brain shorts out in a shower of magic sparks. He draws away, eyes wide and awed. "What—really, Yoongi-hyung?"

Yoongi looks back, lips parted as oxygen rushes out and in and out of him. "Yeah. If you want to."

Jeongguk blinks. "Oh."

"We don't have to," Yoongi hurries to say, even if it's whispered like a daring secret, something valuable and safe.

Jeongguk dives back in but this time for a kind of ridiculous hug. His face is buried in Yoongi's neck, his arms tight around Yoongi's waist, their legs tangled now that Yoongi has relaxed the grip of his thighs around Jeongguk's hips into something soft and sweet instead of lusty and desperate. "Hyung."

Yoongi cards his fingers through Jeongguk's hair, soft. "I really love you," he says, sounding sinuous and new. "Hey, baby Bunny-yah, you're okay. It's okay."

Jeongguk nods into Yoongi's neck. "I really love you too, Yoongi-hyung. Wanna take you to bed."

"Then take me," Yoongi whispers. "Please."

"You mean it? Promise?"

"Promise," Yoongi whispers, fingers lovely and strong and scratchy at Jeongguk's scalp. "Whatever you want, you can have it. Anything I can give you, it's yours."

Jeongguk shudders up and kisses Yoongi on the mouth, wet and sensual and desperate. " Hyung. " He draws back, pulls his arms out from under Yoongi to grip his hips, squeezing squeezing, light then harsh, making Yoongi gasp. He's not wearing a shirt and Jeongguk is, and Jeongguk wants all their clothes off, but there's a spare moment, a time right now to rake nails down Yoongi's side, to watch him throw his head back as he clings to Jeongguk's shoulders, clings—

"Jeonggukkie," Yoongi whimpers, "please. Take me to bed."

Jeongguk makes a strange sound between a growl and a moan and a huff, and then he yanks Yoongi up because Yoongi still weighs fucking nothing, Jesus, Jeongguk can gather him close and carry him, and he does. Yoongi gasps at the change in position and clings to Jeongguk like a koala. Jeongguk straightens up with the cheeriest laugh, and carries Yoongi down the hall.

They take it slow, as far as they possibly can. Slow as Jeongguk lays Yoongi out on the mattress, slow as they strip each other down to nothing but skin, pressed close as they go like they can hold each other together if they can only get close enough, and maybe they can—

Yoongi tugs Jeongguk in for a sugar-swollen kiss. Jeongguk clutches Yoongi close and believes in every fairy tale he's ever heard.

They take it slow, as far as they possibly can. Jeongguk whispers words of reassurance and hopes his fingers are careful enough, and gentle enough. Yoongi writhes on the sheets, lets Jeongguk press in with the kind of warmth at the center of a star, and then they move together in a dance like the rhythm of the universe, the spiralling of galaxies, the time-lapse photography of a flower as it blooms.

At some point Yoongi rolls them over, sits up and grabs Jeongguk's wrists, guides Jeongguk's hands to his hips and moves with reckless, thoughtful repose. Jeongguk grips the spots Yoongi has wordlessly requested, holds them, cradles them, lets Yoongi set the pace and matches it languidly, heart bursting magic cinnamon-anise-fennel behind his wild-blooming ribs.

Yoongi falls apart first and Jeongguk is there to catch him. They take a moment to catch their breath, maybe secretly to catch each other's in the kisses they exchange, but then Yoongi nods and Jeongguk moves until he reaches that edge too, Yoongi limp atop him and such a lovely-comforting weight on Jeongguk's chest, stomach against stomach.

After: sated, in love, flowers everywhere it seems, even though the real ones (the physical ones, not the real ones) are in the living room. There's a new galaxy burst to life above their heads, spiraling up at the ceiling.

"Hyung," Jeongguk whispers, nudging his temple against Yoongi's. "Yoongi-hyung," he says again, quiet, because Yoongi is probably asleep.

Yoongi hums, low and languid. "Bunny-yah."

Jeongguk keeps the skin of his cheek against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut, fingers delicate as they trace designs on Yoongi's back. "I'm gonna clean you up now. If that's okay."

Yoongi groans. "Honey."

"Can I?" Jeongguk asks. "Please, hyungie. Wanna make sure you're comfy and safe."

Yoongi huffs. "I'm comfy now."

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. "We're all sticky."

"Oh. Yeah. Okay."

"Would you rather shower?"

"Ugh, no, " Yoongi says. "Later. After I get you off again."

A shiver runs down Jeongguk's spine. "Hyung."

Yoongi looks up and fixes Jeongguk with a glare. " After I get you off again. " With his eyebrows furrowed like that, he looks kind of like an angry, sex-ruffled kitty.

Which. Okay. Kinda weird visual, maybe.

Jeongguk giggles and kisses Yoongi's nose. "Okay, fine," he says, pretending to be annoyed. "I mean, if you really want to."

"I do," Yoongi insists. "Honestly, I kind of wanna get you off, like, all the time."

" Hyung. "

"You're really pretty like that. And you always get all red and your nose kind of crinkles and your shoulders shrink. When you're turned on, I mean."

Jeongguk's eyes widen. "Hyung! How do you—what—"

"Especially when you get turned on in public."

"What!"

Yoongi laughs and laughs and laughs, mirthful and lovely, skin pale like the sun-lit moon. "I started picking up on it on the milkshake date."

" What. "

Yoongi chuckles again, traces a thumb down Jeongguk's cheek. "I mean, once I revisited the memory, I realized you were sort of horny the first time we met. But in a soft way. Like, soft-horny."

" Oh my god. "

"And then at the restaurant, you got all—" Here, Yoongi widens his eyes and parts his lips and swallows, looking young and helpless and buzzing just barely with lust. It's a pretty accurate representation, probably, Jeongguk thinks. Yoongi exhales and breaks into a grin. "So. I could tell."

Jeongguk drops his head back, eyes closed. "Hyung, now I'm embarrassed. "

Yoongi just laughs and finally sits up, even though Jeongguk was totally the one who was supposed to be cleaning Yoongi up. "Come on. How about we shower now, but compromise in that I'm gonna give you 80-percent-good, 100-percent-enthusiastic head while we do it."

" Hyung. "

"It's not like Jimin and Tae and Joon-ah haven't done it in there already, probably."

Jeongguk lets himself be dragged out of bed and whines, giggly, as he goes. They stumble down the hall to the apartment's single bathroom and Jeongguk kind of wants to protest, but—well. Shower blow jobs are pretty fucking great.

(Letting himself get all pliant and whimpery and vulnerable in front of Yoongi—that part is even better, especially once Yoongi's fingers find their way inside and stroke until Jeongguk comes all over himself.

Well. Down Yoongi's throat.

But like, either way. Totally NSFW and super awesome.)

Afterwards, they curl back up between Yoongi's sheets, pillows circling around them like half a nest, blankets fuzzy and cool and soft. Jeongguk's eyelashes flutter against Yoongi's collarbone, he can feel it—and Yoongi's breath hitches as his hands stroke carefully at Jeongguk's hair, which means he can probably feel it too.

Then, Jeongguk remembers. "Oh," he says, tensing to sit up except that Yoongi's arms tighten and softly encourage him not to go anywhere. "Hyung. The Last Letters. Did you finish?"

Yoongi is calm, silent, still. Then: "Yes," he whispers, sounding melancholy in the most wonderful way.

Jeongguk inhales all the space dust magic that has created his Yoongi and feels like he's taking the universe into his very own lungs, lucky-lucky. "Me too."

There's this suspended, sharp-precipice moment then, with Jeongguk curled small against Yoongi's broad-arcing chest, and Yoongi resting close with arms like the spirals of a galaxy, the freefall stomach-drop gravity ferrying an errant, lonely garden planet into the solar system that will give it life to bloom.

But not just that, though. There are principles that don't add up in this universe. Things we don't know, things that make scientists think maybe we need new physics altogether to explain it in our equations. God particles and quantum gravity, electromagnetism and unification and the theory of everything. It's not just science that's in conflict with itself, either; it's math and poetry, physicists and philosophers, the how and the why. It's the cognitive theory of mind that says you are only your biological brain structures, a computer code of memory; it's the neuroscience of dopamine and oxytocin that says love is only chemical reactions that will fade with time and the workings of entropy. It's entropy itself, the knowledge that it all falls down, all of it. We are all under imminent collapse.

It's the feeling that all of that is wrong.

"Yoongi," Jeongguk says, eyes widening as Yoongi reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a thick envelope in creamy, weighty white.

"You can give me yours later," Yoongi says, "if you left it in the living room."

We all say the same things, rap the same songs, dance the same choreographies, write the same love letters. Albert Einstein and William Shakespeare, Stephen Hawking and James Joyce, Brian Green and Billy Collins—for all of our contradictions, all of our hypocrisies, all of the times in certainty and doubt and the mystery of faith and the terror of that unknown abyss—

"It's okay. I put it here," Jeongguk says, pulling away for real this time, heading for the desk. "While you were still in the kitchen. I thought...I felt like I would give it to you here."

When Jeongguk turns around, a heavy wine-red envelope in his hands, Yoongi's eyes are sadder and more affected than Jeongguk has seen them look before.

"Bunny-yah, come back," Yoongi chokes, voice high and rough.

Jeongguk steps forward across the gap between them, falls into Yoongi: through Eden, take your solitary way.

"I love you, Jeon Jeonggukkie," Yoongi exalts, a blessing like the starshine on Jeongguk's flowers.

"I love you, Min Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk prays back, wishing all his pollen to honey, all his berry-fruits to ripen sweet.

There is a moment like staring down the precipice of wild blue yonder, the scenery far off, and yet Jeongguk can tell it's beautiful. "Hyungie, I want you to see it."

"The letter?"

"The world before us," Jeongguk breathes, hardly thick enough to even classify as a whisper.

But—classifications, semiotics and linguistic rules—

Who cares?

Jeongguk laughs.

Yoongi kisses Jeongguk's cheek. "What are you giggling about, my pretty Bunny-yah?"

Jeongguk collapses to the pillows, head cushioned on Yoongi's arm, head tilted up to meet dark, catlike eyes. "It's all so simple," Jeongguk twitters. "There was no plot, and yet we somehow made it here."

Yoongi grumbles, but his eyes are wide and he's listening; he's writing on the same page. "No plot, and yet we made it to the ending."

Jeongguk shakes his head, brushing their noses together. "No, you're wrong. This isn't the end. We're hardly through the exposition."

"You sound like Namjoon. What comes next, the point of intrusion? Think we did that part, too." Yoongi winks.

Jeongguk cackles. He smacks Yoongi's arm. " Hyung! You're literally terrible! "

Yoongi's eyebrows raise playfully. "You love me anyways."

Jeongguk frowns. "I love you because of that, not anyways. And you're not taking this seriously." His lip goes out in a sweet, bratty pout.

Yoongi quiets then, contemplative as he taps Jeongguk's nose with a careful index finger. "Oh, Bunny, I am."

Jeongguk blinks and understanding dawns, and he smiles as he nods. This light-hearted glee is Yoongi's most closely guarded secret. All walls must be down if it's something Jeongguk gets to see. "Okay, hyung. Me too. I agree with what you mean."

Yoongi leans in for a short, soft kiss. "Thank you, Bunny. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Science, literature, words and chemistry and the distance between flowers and stars. And time, always time. Last Letters, and the minutes when one of them, or both of them, will read theirs.

To hell with it, Jeongguk decides. It's all the same; there's no distance at all—and time is made up anyways, endings are nothing in the face of this.

Honey in a glass jar, Jeongguk thinks.

Cracks open the sealed lid.

Closes his eyes, and lets his tongue taste the sweet.

<epilogue>

The diner is as bustling as ever on Sunday morning, a symphony of giddy laughter and knives cutting pancakes and clinking mimosa glasses and bacon sizzling in the kitchen. The sunlight is bright yellow as it comes in the window, Yoongi's head warm and clear and well-caffeinated, happy with the way his arm is tucked around Jeongguk's shoulders across the back of the booth.

"Joonie-hyung," Jimin and Taehyung are whining, one on either side of their elder boyfriend, both batting wicked eyelashes at a powerless hyung. " Please. "

"Fine. Fine. I will flag the waitress down and order more sausage," Namjoon gripes, raising his hand and sitting up straighter to try to make eye contact with their cheery but rather frazzled server.

"Not really sure the waitress can give them the sausage they actually want," Jeongguk giggles at Yoongi's side, small between Yoongi at the edge of the booth and Taehyung towards the middle. The far side of the circular table is still bare; Hoseok and Seokjin are late.

"Namjoon's dick is the sausage Taehyung and Jiminie deserve, but not the one they need right now," Yoongi says, serious as ever. Jeongguk blinks like he knows it's a reference but not to what, and Yoongi blinks back. "You know. Like Batman. The Dark Knight. Like, Jeonggukkie, I just equated Namjoon's dick to Batman, I'm gonna need you to laugh now."

Jeongguk throws his head back and shrieks a beautiful birdsong chortle into the grease-warm diner air. It makes Yoongi happy in a way he hasn't felt since yesterday, when Jeongguk was still snug in the blankets with Yoongi, a Saturday opportunity for sleeping in before they'd said their goodbyes late in the morning. Jeongguk had had choir practice in the afternoon and Yoongi had had a shift in the evening, so they'd spent the night apart.

(Yoongi remembers waking up alone this morning, distraught in a half-remembered way, a way he hasn't felt in ages—the distraught of missing someone from the moment you're aware you even exist, arising from sleep.

But then, on the phone:

Bunny-boyfriend <3: [Image Attached]
Bunny-yah <3: good morning yoongi hyung

Me: baby Bunny,,
Me: good morning you just look. hmm.
Me: wish you were here

Bunny-boyfriend <3: this filter makes me look pretty
Bunny-boyfriend <3: way prettier than normal,,,

Bunny-boyfriend <3: right hyungie? sorry im so needy im sorry im sorry :/

Me: you always look pretty

Me: all the fuckin time, Bunny.
Me: and I love you.

Bunny-yah <3: aw
Bunny-yah <3: thanks hyungie
Bunny-yah <3: Sorry I need constant reassurance about stuff :/

Me: I love you and you're extremely pretty

Me: I'll reassure you whenever. i promise
Me: <3

Jeongguk had called him after that. They'd talked all the way until Yoongi had arrived at Jeongguk's door to pick him up for brunch, only hanging up when they were finally facing each other. Dropping their phones to exchange sticky morning kisses, before making their way, hand-in-hand, here.)

On Jeongguk's other side, Taehyung is laughing too, deep and melodious, his golden retriever tongue sticking out. Jimin is glaring, eyes narrowed like he's not at all amused. Namjoon is blushing. Yoongi's roommate might have the capability of leveling up into a charismatic sex demon, but not at 8:00 in the morning. He's only capable of transforming under the special magic lights of gay clubs on the outskirts of Itaewon, and only after midnight.

"What did we miss?" Hoseok rasps, appearing in a whirlwind with Seokjin at his side. Both of them are bedraggled and bedheaded, eyes kind of hazy and necks littered with blackberry bruises. They collapse into their usual seats, and everyone else regards them with gazes consisting of, like, 90 percent shade.

"Shut up, " Hoseok gripes when he senses the judgment in the five-man Carebear Stare.

Seokjin only laughs, shameless as always, comfortable in his own skin when Hoseok is around. "Hoseokie, dear, I told you it would be unwise to spend so long practicing your deepthroating right before biweekly brunch."

"Biweekly like twice a week, or like once every two weeks?" Jeongguk whispers in Yoongi's ear, even as everyone (Jeongguk included) is acting really disgusted with the information they've just been subjected to.

"Every two weeks," Yoongi says. "Every week is too big of a commitment, in terms of both time and money."

"Mostly time," Seokjin says. "It cuts into Hoseok's Sunday Morning Fellatio Practice."

"Oh my god, " Hoseok says, still raspy. "Good lord, I need a mimosa." He raises his hand, searching out the waitress amidst the restaurant bustle.

Taehyung giggles. "Sure it's smart to drink a mixture of alcohol and Tropicana super acid right after you've had hyung's dick down your throat? I feel like that's gonna hurt."

"Only until the champagne kicks in," Namjoon groans, sympathetic and—

Wait.

"Holy shit," Yoongi says, covering his ears, "no, no, no, tell me you have not come to brunch in this sacred place after having sucked a dick so long it made your throat hurt and—Namjoon. Kim fucking Namjoon."

"What!" Namjoon protests, "two weeks ago was shortly after the club!"

"So you sucked Taehyung or Jimin's dick—or both—and then came here and you didn't even bring them?" Yoongi says, slumping hard into Jeongguk. "You motherfucker."

"You didn't bring Jeongguk," Seokjin points out.

"I also didn't blow him right before showing up here," Yoongi retorts.

"Well. Fair point," Seokjin nods. "Also, too bad. Pre-brunch blowjobs are amazing. Hoseokie gives very good head."

"Excuse you; I give great head. I get a lot of practice," Hoseok grumbles.

Seokjin leans over and whispers something in Hoseok's ear, and Hoseok goes red even as he starts smirking. He tugs Seokjin over and bites his earlobe, whispering something in turn.

Jimin wrinkles his nose. "I hate them. Do you hate them? Stop whispering dirty things to each other."

"Yeah," Taehyung demands, "if you're gonna be dirty, then please share with the class so I can get be horny at brunch too!"

"You're always horny, love," Jimin says, patting Taehyung's head dismissively.

Taehyung pouts. "Joonie-hyung! Tell Jiminie to be nice!"

Namjoon just looks like he's about to dissolve into a pile of very embarrassed dust.

The waitress chooses that opportune moment to come over, and Namjoon orders more sausage—forcibly ignoring the whistles and nudges coming from literally everyone else at the table as he does it. Hoseok gets two mimosas, one for him and one for Seokjin, and then Seokjin just goes ahead and orders half the menu.

"What's he gonna do with all that?" Jeongguk whispers in Yoongi's ear.

Yoongi stares at him Very Seriously. "He's going to eat it."

Jeongguk's eyes widen. "All of it?"

Yoongi's nod is resigned, because it's true.

The rest of the morning passes in less-dirty teasing (they don't want to make the waitress feel weird, plus there's a family in the next booth over and Yoongi's friend group might be crass but they're not horrible ). There's some banter over Jimin and Taehyung eating the sausage (which Namjoon pointedly avoids engaging with), but that's about the extent of it. Seokjin and Hoseok are now involved in some weird eating contest that Jeongguk had tried to enter before Yoongi had stepped in and prevented whatever disaster would have certainly befallen Jeongguk's poor stomach.

Then Jimin and Taehyung start to get a little frisky under the booth. Not, like, in a real way, because they are in public, but. Well. Jimin ends up in Namjoon's lap, and then in Taehyung's, and Taehyung is holding Jimin's butt against his crotch and pressing cute little kisses to the back of Jimin's neck, and Namjoon is coughing and rubbing his neck and looking uncomfortably turned on considering the current context.

"Fuck, they should leave," Jeongguk whispers to Yoongi after Taehyung's hands have clenched for the third time on Jimin's narrow hips. Jimin's ass swells kind of gloriously against Taehyung's thighs.

Yoongi swallows. "Yeah. They kinda should."

Namjoon lets out a strangled whimper. Jimin's left hand is decidedly not on the table.

"Is it weird that that's really hot," Jeongguk mutters. "I don't wanna make you feel weird. Like, that I'd cheat on you, or something. I'm just being..."

Yoongi shakes his head. His hair brushes Jeongguk's temple, they're that close, whispering dirty secrets together like allies, like spies. "Honest? Same. It's fine. Our friends are hot. And also very inappropriate."

"Like real life mobile porn."

"Mobile porn? Why that particular adjective, I mean—is that a thing?" Yoongi raises a curious eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs. "Pornhub mobile app?"

"Is there one?"

"Welp! We're leaving!" Namjoon stands up so fast he nearly knocks over the table, eliciting muffled shouts out of Seokjin and Hoseok, who are still scrambling to eat, well, everything.

"Bye," Jimin giggles, leaning heavily into Namjoon with an adoring grin aimed up at Taehyung's smiling face. Yoongi and Jeongguk have to stumble out of the booth to let them out, and then Namjoon and Jimin and Taehyung are all throwing random amounts of cash onto the table and rushing for the door, Namjoon silent and pale, Taehyung and Jimin laughing high and sweet.

Yoongi and Jeongguk watch them until they're out the door, watch Taehyung and Namjoon exchange a blood-searing kiss against the glass before Jimin can tug them away. Together, Yoongi and Jeongguk sigh themselves back into the booth.

"Fuck," Jeongguk mumbles, leaning weak against Yoongi's side.

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna get out of here?"

Jeongguk tucks his head into Yoongi's neck. "No," he pouts. "It was hot because it was happening here. "

Yoongi's head jerks as he fixes Jeongguk with a surprised stare. "Oh yeah? That does it for you? Exhibitionism?"

Jeongguk goes bright red. "Hyung, it's not..." He looks like a Bunny frozen before an oncoming car, and Yoongi figures he can get away with a little bit more before he has to back off.

Yoongi smirks. "What if I got you all worked up right here too, in front of all our hot friends. Get them all hot and bothered watching us. "

"Yoongi," Jeongguk whispers, fingers clutching Yoongi's shirt.

Yoongi presses their foreheads together. "Or before, like Hoseok and Seokjin. I'll get you all wet and messy for it early in the morning, fuck you from behind with your Soft shirt still on, still out of it from sleep..."

Jeongguk shivers. "Oh, hyung, would you?" He leans into Yoongi, eyes the size of the moon.

"And then we come here and you're still out of it from feeling good," Yoongi says. "I get you off and then drag you here all flustered still, that would be okay, yeah?"

Jeongguk blinks and it's like a nod, but he can't quite manage the full motion of it. "Yeah," he says. "That would be nice."

Across the table, the eating contest is apparently over. Hoseok and Seokjin are regarding Yoongi and Jimin with obvious disdain. Hypocrites.

"Go home if you're going to do that," Hoseok says. "Like Namjoonie and Jimin-ah and Taehyungie. Who, for once, are being the smart ones."

"'For once'?" Jeongguk protests, "you've met them like one time!"

"It was enough," Seokjin says, haughty as he leans back and rubs his stomach. "That was a really good breakfast. Above average, I would say."

"Eh, it was okay," Hoseok says.

"You're just mad because you lost."

"My throat still fucking hurts!"

"Okay, ew, " Jeongguk says, finally shoving Yoongi towards the edge of the booth. "We are now leaving."

"Good choice," Hoseok says. "Yoongi-hyung has been concealing a boner for the past ten minutes."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Have not. "

Jeongguk nods. "Like Yoongi-hyung said. I trust him."

They throw down their fair share of cash, offer their goodbyes, head out in the bright sunlight.

Yoongi leans in close. "It was only five minutes," he confirms.

Jeongguk smirks, cocky and smug. "I know, hyung. I know."

"I love you."

"I love you too," Jeongguk says. "Now come on. You gonna make good on all those promises, or what?"

"Not just those," Yoongi says. "I'm a romantic. I'll spoil you and give you flowers and chocolates and birthday presents and overwritten thank you cards, too."

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. "Ew. You made it weird. Romance is dead. RIP in peace, romance."

Yoongi and Jeongguk collapse into Yoongi's car, and Yoongi takes Jeongguk's hand automatically. "I made the romance great. It was the sex part that I just killed."

"RIP in peace, sex," Jeongguk mourns.

Yoongi laughs. "It'll respawn by the time we get home."

Jeongguk hmphs. "You didn't take your meds yet this morning."

"Unrelated, but thanks for the reminder."

"Anytime," Jeongguk says.

"Come on, Bunny. Let's get home."

Beside him, Jeongguk's posture blooms like a sun-soaked flower. Yoongi watches it, and thinks, I sort of did that.

He feels not, for once, like a black hole; but fervently, gratefully, like a bright-burning star.

<3