#Sope Angst

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 3: Nobody has ever made me feel this way

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 18.7k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: Hoseok & Yoongi switch; they are both hot and cold & there is plenty of angst; footsie that turns to cockstepping; explicit discussion of sexual acts; jealousy; attempts at communication; dry humping; hair pulling; use of "good boy"; mouth spitting; blowjobs; deepthroating; a lot of drool; brief delicate cheek slapping; cum swallowing; some overstimulation; frotting; Yoongi is surprisingly submissive; sexual acts happen while somewhat under the influence but not drunk.

📸 notes: this chapter is very dialogue heavy!!! i hope some plot points don't feel too rushed or contrived, but i am trying to squeeze everything into my 4 planned chapters, since i have so much on my plate! 💜

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading.

📸 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Hoseok cannot, for the life of him, pretend that kiss never happened. 

He may as well be drunk each day with the way he spaces out, misses instruction, and does not seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. He is clumsy, always staring at Yoongi's hands, and forgetting to change poses without being told. 

And to make matters worse, Yoongi's moodiness has ramped up. He is quick to snap his fingers and bark instructions. 

"Model," he will say, not using Hoseok's name, "get your head out of the fucking clouds, what is going on with you?"

With a shrug and maybe a yawn, Hoseok will sigh and bat his eyelashes. "Sorry, boss," he will make his voice soft and sweet as candy floss, "just tired this week."

The thing is, Hoseok is coasting until he finds out whether Dior wants more from him. He already has the cover and the money shots – the shit he is doing this week is all random filler images that Yoongi will keep a stock of in case he needs something for an ad. Random outfits, random backdrops, random accessories. 

Why he is bothering to do any of this right now seems pointless. It is almost as if Yoongi is just asking him to be around for the sake of having him around, and Hoseok finds it tedious. After his hot shot Dior campaign, he deserves a vacation. He wore a merkin, for fuck's sake. 

During the third day of this nonsense, Namjoon comes sighing into the makeup room, shaking his head. There are other models around, so he waits to get up close to Hoseok's ear to mutter, "You're really getting under his skin. Are you trying to get fired?"

Hoseok simply stares at him with one eyebrow raised. He knows Yoongi has told Namjoon about the kiss – he tells Namjoon about everything. 

Namjoon confirms that he at least knows something by rolling his eyes, shaking his head, and saying, "Well, he has asked me to invite you to dinner with him today so the two of you can speak."

"I have nothing to say to him," Hoseok says, holding out his perfectly manicured left hand to inspect whether his nails are still shiny and well-groomed – they are. "If he wants to invite me out, he can do it, himself."

On top of everything else, Hoseok is playing hard to get. If Yoongi wants to see or speak to him, he can earn the right. One does not barge into Hoseok's apartment, surprise him with a life-altering kiss, and then carry on like everything is fine. Absolutely not. 

He wants to annoy Yoongi by playing footsie with him under a restaurant booth, or seduce him up in his big, dark office, but not let him have anything more than another kiss. Just to show him that he is not fully in control. 

But he doesn't want to make it obvious to the other models. He has no desire to commiserate with them over the ways Yoongi has used them. 

Ultimately, Hoseok wants to come out on top – figuratively and literally. He wants to have Yoongi sprawled out across that big, leather-topped desk of his, moaning Hoseok's name in his deep, raspy timbre. That's the goal. 

Namjoon pulls out his phone and thumbs around, dimples on display as he smiles to himself. Hoseok likes it when Namjoon plays along with his cattiness, and he imagines that Namjoon is relaying his message to Yoongi. 

Meanwhile, models come and go, all shooting with different photographers throughout the massive studio space. Only Hoseok and Sunmi have Yoongi's attention, and Hoseok has been attempting to watch like a hawk to see if any flirtatious behavior is exchanged, but much to his chagrin, Sunmi only seems to be behind Yoongi's lens when Hoseok is busy getting his hair and makeup done. 

He wonders how many more models Yoongi will kiss this week. How many does he text to ask if they need a ride home? How many go out to lunch with him in secluded corner booths and shower at his home studio?

Whereas before, Hoseok thought he was catching feelings for Yoongi, now he is determined for it to be a power play only. He just wants to fuck him once to get it out of his system – mark up that round little ass of his. Then he can leave this whole stupid company behind. 

Hoseok is balls deep in a mental image of Yoongi bent over his large desk when he hears the man's voice cut through his imagination, bringing him back to reality.

"Hoseok."

Hoseok looks up to find Yoongi's head peeking into the room. Namjoon is still present, still on his phone, but Hoseok can tell by his expression – by the way his eyes are staring unmoving at the device – that he is definitely eavesdropping. 

"Yes, boss?" Hoseok asks with as much indifference as he can muster. 

"How would you like to come on a little field trip with me? Dior wants to discuss a second round of outfits, and I could use some dinner."

Hoseok stretches his back and lets out a deep sigh, then he slouches in his chair and shrugs, acting bored. "Sure. Sounds fun."

Rather than respond, Yoongi simply leaves the room. Hoseok stands to follow, but Namjoon stops him in his tracks. 

"Let's find you something nice to wear," he says.

Hoseok looks down at his favorite baby blue cropped tee and low-rise daisy duke denim shorts and says, "What are you talking about? I look amazing."

"I didn't say you didn't look amazing," Namjoon responds with a playful smile. "But I just think you should wear something a touch more put together."

By now, all of the models have left the room, and Namjoon closes the door. 

"Why?" Hoseok asks conspiratorially. "Is he taking me somewhere nice? Gonna butter me up? Or finally apologize? Maybe try to corner me for another stupid fucking kiss?"

With a sigh, Namjoon turns to a rack of black and white clothing and begins to search until he pulls out a black blazer, black slacks, and a delicate off-white silk blouse. Hoseok rolls his eyes dramatically but cannot hold back a smile as he strips down and allows Namjoon to play dress up. 

The blouse has a deep v-neck that hangs gracefully down to the valley of his pecs, and he wears the fitted blazer fully open, with the blouse tucked into tight, fitted slacks that are accentuated nicely with a black leather belt. Namjoon dusts a thin black line around Hoseok's eyes and chooses a pair of chunky black loafers for him to wear. 

While Namjoon is digging through a chest for jewelry pieces, there are three soft knocks on the door, followed by it slowly opening and Yoongi sticking his head back into the room. Hoseok stares at his boss, watching as his eyes widen and then settle back to their cold natural state. 

"We're just about finished, boss," Namjoon says. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks and nods once, then says, "I'll be in the car."

Hoseok is no fool – he knows that behavior well. "He wants me so bad," he says, giggling to himself while cold metal is draped around his neck and fastened into place. 

Namjoon has chosen a stack of delicate gold chains that drape and cascade beautifully with the deep neck of the blouse. Hoseok dances his fingertips along one of the thickest chains and smiles into the mirror. 

"Joonie Baboonie, you have such an eye for style."

"Baboonie?" Namjoon asks with a chuckle as Hoseok spins on his toes and pats Namjoon on one of his big, strong biceps. 

"Yes, Baboonie! You got this primal ape thickness to you," he says, giving Namjoon's arm a squeeze. 

Namjoon gasps and yanks his arm away, pretending to be scandalized. "I don't even know what to think right now."

"Trust me, it's a compliment," Hoseok says as he turns toward the door, looking over his shoulder to add, "You're easily one of the hottest men on this peninsula."

The tips of Namjoon's ears turn a precious shade of red, and Hoseok grabs his phone, wallet, and keys from where they sit on the vanity counter and slide them into his borrowed pockets, giggling to himself over how fun it is to rile Namjoon up. 

He takes his time walking through the studio, to the large front doors ahead, listening to shutters snap closed while photographers and directors instruct and praise and ask more from their models. Despite feeling fed up with Yoongi's antics, he is proud to be part of this world, and he holds his head high as he pauses before the sliding glass doors and waits for them to open wide. 

It is early evening, still bright and warm outside. Hoseok spots the familiar sedan sitting curbside and is pleased to find only Yoongi waiting for him. He can play coy all he wants in the presence of others, but he is not so sure he can hold up the facade around Seokjin, and the man's absence is a relief. 

Yoongi wears a black mask over his nose and mouth, as well as black sunglasses, and when Hoseok opens the door and slides into the front seat, Yoongi points to the glove compartment and says, "Disguise, please."

Now that Hoseok is alone with Yoongi, he fully takes in his appearance. Between being photographed by him earlier in the day and now, he has changed from his typical flowing black rags into a white button-up top with long, sharp lapels, and charcoal grey slacks that strain against his thighs. His hair has so much volume that the tips fan out in pretty waves, and Hoseok openly stares, feeling his feigned impassiveness crash down around him. 

There is no way he is going to be able to have the upper hand if Yoongi is this fucking pretty. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, "we don't have all day."

Hoseok clears his throat, blinks Yoongi from view, and leans to open the glove compartment. Inside is a pair of black sunglasses and an unused black mask, and he reaches for each item to put on.

"Why the disguises?" he asks. 

"I don't like my identity being widely spread, and there always seems to be someone in the high-end districts waiting for me to waltz into a shop or restaurant. Better safe than sorry."

"Why is that?" Hoseok asks, adjusting the mask to fit comfortably over his nose.

Yoongi sighs. "The last thing I need is for the press to see me taking my models out to eat and spread the word that I'm fucking them."

"Because you are," Hoseok mutters. 

"Flirting is not the same as fucking."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and tips his head in Yoongi's direction. His voice is low but challenging as he asks, "How many of them do you fuck, boss?"

It is a shame Yoongi's face is covered; Hoseok would love to see his expression as he says, "Currently, none."

With a hum, Hoseok turns to reach for his seatbelt. He does not believe Yoongi for a second, but he is still happy with the claim. 

"Where are we off to?" Hoseok asks in a far more chipper voice.

Yoongi sighs, turning Hoseok's attention back to him. He has his sunglasses pulled down to the bridge of his nose, and his eyes appear somewhat sad. 

"Look, I'm sorry for kissing you. I should have asked…or…I don't know…refrained."

"Yup," Hoseok responds snarkily.

"But we need to at least pretend things are normal, for the sake of professionality. Otherwise I will not be able to continue having you at M Magazine. I really don't want to let you go, Hoseok."

"Because I'm a good investment. I know."

Another sigh. "Is that really how you feel?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes again, thankful that his expression is hidden, because he suddenly feels dangerously close to crying. He takes his time to think about his response, and then he shrugs. Yoongi is fucking insane if he thinks Hoseok is going to give him an ounce of his dignity.

"I thought we didn't have all day?" he asks, instead.

Yoongi slowly blinks, then says, "We have time for this. If there's something we need to discuss, I can always make time for it."

"Wow, so caring," Hoseok drawls sarcastically. "You're really good at putting on the good boy act when it's just the two of us. How many other models do you do this for?"

Yoongi squints, pushes his sunglasses back into place, and presses the ignition start button. Then he simply asks, "Sushi?"

"Sushi sounds great," Hoseok responds genuinely as he sits back and looks out the windshield, eyes trailing over details he barely registers of vehicles and trees. 

Off they drive. Hoseok spaces out entirely, blocking out everything ahead. Instead, he fights with his own emotions, unsure how he would like to proceed. 

He wants to tease Yoongi, and ultimately break him down. And in order to do so, he knows he needs to drop the snark. But Yoongi has genuinely pissed him off, and it is difficult not to bring it up. 

When the racing thoughts get to be too overwhelming, Hoseok reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. He has Namjoon's number saved from their spa day, and he pulls up his contact.

Hoseok Joon Baboon, this man is driving me insane. Please snitch on your bestie and tell me what he said about The Kiss™. I feel claustrophobic in this car because I don't know what the fuck this man is thinking.

Hoseok assumes Namjoon is still at work, but there is a chance he is between models, or packing up for the day. It is rare for anyone to stay past five, and it is a quarter to five now. 

For good measure, he also sends a text to Jeongguk. He is eager to pick his friend's brain if Jeongguk is willing to talk about his experience with Yoongi. 

Hoseok Ggukieee!!! Drinks later? On me? I'm having a crisis that only you could understand.

He places his phone face down on his leg and patiently waits, staring out the side window at all the tall glass and concrete buildings. This side of the city is where all the money is. Designer shops, high-end restaurants, five-star hotels. 

Yoongi pulls up to a valet stand, takes a deep, slow breath, and shuts the ignition off. Hoseok swallows thickly, wondering if there really might be members of the press lingering around, waiting to photograph his boss – and, by extension, him. 

As soon as Yoongi is out of the car, Hoseok follows suit, unbuckling and slowly opening his door. He has no idea why his heart pounds, and he glances around at his surroundings, noticing the way people stop and take in his appearance. 

"For Min," Yoongi says as he hands the valet attendant his key. 

The attendant bows and Yoongi turns to Hoseok, nods his chin, and walks toward a large glass door. 

Hoseok follows close behind, trying to elongate his steps to accentuate the beautiful garments he wears rather than prance ahead quickly. He feels like royalty in the outfit Namjoon has dressed him in, and he intends to savor each second he spends in it.

Yoongi holds the door open, and Hoseok steps inside. Immediately, he is hit with rich umami and spicy scents, and he stops and waits for Yoongi to step ahead and say, "Two for Min," to the hostess.

"Right this way," she says, leading the two of them through a lavish restaurant furnished in gold, crystal, and jade, with copious amounts of natural lighting. 

She leads them to a section of private booths with tall wooden walls – an area that is much more dim and intimate than the main dining hall – and she points to a booth all the way at the end. There are no other patrons in this area of the restaurant, yet Yoongi only removes his sunglasses once they are seated. 

"The usual?" she asks, and Yoongi turns his attention to Hoseok. 

"I usually get an assortment of sashimi, as well as inari, miso soup, and sake."

"That sounds good," Hoseok mutters, feeling inexplicably shy as he removes his sunglasses and scoots to the center of the booth. 

"The usual, for two," Yoongi nods to the hostess, who bows and walks away. He busies himself with unfolding his napkin and placing it over his lap, and then pulls out his cell phone. 

Hoseok pulls his phone out, as well. And in that moment, it vibrates.

Joon Baboon All he said was that he made a mistake. He feels like he broke your trust and pissed you off, and for that, he feels guilty. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and bites his lip to prevent from smiling. 

Hoseok Is that what this fancy as fuck sushi dinner is about?

Joon Baboon You didn't hear it from me…

Hoseok  The magic words!!! 

Joon Baboon But, yes. 

"About Dior," Yoongi says, causing Hoseok to set his phone down on the booth beside his leg and lift his attention to his boss. "Technically, the contract is over if you are pleased with all we have done. But they have reached out to express interest in having you model the upcoming winter line."

"Oh?" Hoseok perks up and folds his hands over his lap, watching as Yoongi pulls the mask from his mouth and neatly sets it aside. 

Yoongi is devastatingly pretty with his hair wild and curly. Especially with the crisp white shirt, his skin looks petal soft, and his lips have a slight gloss – kissable and sweet. Hoseok hates how quickly one look can make every wall he attempts to build around his heart buckle and crumble to his feet. 

"Cardigans, hoodies, handbags," Yoongi continues, "possibly sneakers. Oh, and they have a grey wide-legged wool pant that I believe you would be particularly stunning in, if that interests you."

Hoseok licks his lips and nods. For once, he has nothing snarky to say, and instead, he sits back and takes a deep breath. More Dior means more time spent with Yoongi acting as his agent. He feels conflicted. 

"Would this be something we begin soon?" Hoseok asks, suddenly feeling antsy and shifting in his seat. "Or would we draw up a new contract?"

Yoongi studies his face, then leans forward with his elbows on the table. "What would you like to do? Continue the current contract and get all of that out of the way, or pause with Dior in order to find representation with a more permanent agent?"

Hoseok gently nibbles on the inside of his lip. He figures he may as well be honest with Yoongi, despite how much he loathes putting his feelings on display.

Luckily for him, a server approaches with a tray of water and sake. Hoseok busies himself with pouring small glasses of sake while the server excuses themself. He can feel Yoongi watching him, and he swallows back his anxiety as best as he can.

"In the event that Dior keeps thirsting for my good looks, I think I would like to find a more permanent agent."

He glances up and sees Yoongi watching him, chin resting against his folded hands.

"S-so, if you wouldn't mind putting me in touch with some," Hoseok continues, pulse quickening the longer Yoongi stares, "I would appreciate it."

"Alright," Yoongi says. "I can set up some interviews for this week."

"Thanks, boss," Hoseok mutters as he slides a soju glass forward.

"Any particular reason you are eager to pay money for representation?" Yoongi asks in a teasing voice as he reaches for his glass before Hoseok has a chance to let it go.

The warm graze of Yoongi's fingers makes Hoseok swallow thickly and pull his hand away. Yoongi's signature smirk is back, and it fills his tummies with butterflies and regret.

"Maybe," is all Hoseok is willing to say. 

 Yoongi hums, then lifts his glass, waiting for Hoseok to lift his, as well. 

"How much sake will it take until you comfortably tell me what's on your mind?" he asks.

Hoseok scoffs, referring to the other night as he says, "At least three bottles."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow and softly chuckles. They tap their glasses together, and Hoseok shoots the liquid back, savoring the almost buttery quality that shines through the semi-sweet flavor.

"How much will it take for you to be honest about your intentions with me?" Hoseok tries. 

Yoongi lets out a slow exhale. "My intentions are to assist you with finding an agent to represent you for the rest of your brand contracts, and to continue assisting you with putting your best face forward in the hottest magazine in South Korea."

Hoseok hums and licks his lips. He wants to challenge Yoongi further, but he worries that this is not the place for that.

The booth rattles with an incoming text message, and Yoongi's eyes follow the sound, then lift to Hoseok, asking, "You gonna check that?"

Hoseok rolls his eyes and laughs humorlessly to himself, reaching for his phone. "You're insufferable," he mutters under his breath. 

"Well, you aren't willing to speak openly with me," Yoongi quips, "so you may as well entertain yourself somehow."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek as he lifts his phone, sees that it is a message from Jeongguk, and unlocks his screen to read it.

"Do you like wasabi in your soy sauce?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok flicks his gaze up briefly, annoyed with his sudden change in topic. 

"Sure," he says, dropping his gaze down to his phone. 

Ggukie Bun Drinks sound fun, but idk how much I wanna talk about that man…you'll have to loosen me up quite a bit to get me to spill, hyungie.

He sends a quick response—

Hoseok You got yourself a deal, bunny. I'll hit you up when I'm finished with dinner.

—and slides his phone into his pants pocket before leaning forward with his elbows against the table.

"You want me to talk?" Hoseok challenges, keeping his voice low in case there are people sitting in nearby booths. "Alright, boss, I'll talk about anything you want. Pick my brain, since you're so eager."

Yoongi smirks and the sight alone has Hoseok's frustration reaching an all new high. The audacity of this man to push his buttons so much; he is going to lose his fucking mind. 

Hoseok watches as Yoongi uses his chopsticks to mix a dollop of wasabi into a small square dish that he has poured soy sauce into, eyes glued to his long fingers cradling the black lacquered utensils.

"So, you're saying I don't have to spend eight hundred thousand won on booze to get you to open up?" Yoongi teases as he lays his chopsticks down across an empty dish. 

"Eight hundred—" Hoseok gasps, then looks at the ceramic carafe in the center of the table. "What?"

"I know, one hundred and thirty thousand won is a lot for just one bottle, but I rather like how smooth this one is."

Hoseok chuckles and shakes his head. "You cannot be serious."

Yoongi's voice drops an octave as he leans forward and says, "Don't think I wouldn't spend that kind of money on you, Hoseok. Especially if it gets those pretty lips talking."

All the little hairs on Hoseok's body stand at full attention. He has half a mind to excuse himself to run outside for some fresh air. 

"Pretty lips?" Hoseok asks, instead, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. 

Yoongi's smirk becomes a grin, and there is a devious glimmer in his eyes as he says, "I quite liked the taste of soju on your tongue, but I bet this sake would be even better."

Nervous laughter rocks through Hoseok's chest, and he holds his left hand up and shakes his head, muttering, "Okay, you need to stop."

"Awe, what's the matter, Hoseok?" Yoongi teases.

"I am so fucking serious."

Yoongi sits back, resting his hands on the top of the dark wooden table, and Hoseok allows himself to stare at his short, tidy nails and knobby knuckles. 

"Is that why you no longer want me to be your agent?" Yoongi asks. "Eager for another kiss?"

"Fuck it," Hoseok grumbles to himself as he sits tall, looks Yoongi in the eye, and says, "Yeah. That is why."

Yoongi watches Hoseok, eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips and back up. He appears to have something to say, but for once, is holding back. 

Servers approach with trays of food, starting with the miso soup and inari, then the sashimi. Hoseok thanks the servers, smiles impatiently at Yoongi, and then waits for him to start eating. 

But Yoongi keeps his eyes on Hoseok. He slowly blinks, saying nothing, and Hoseok takes a deep, fortifying breath and says, "Yoongi-ssi, I would like to eat. Please start."

"Sorry," Yoongi utters softly, lifting his burgundy napkin and tucking one corner delicately into the neck of his shirt. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and sits back with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Whatever game Yoongi is playing at, it is wearing him out. 

"I was just thinking," Yoongi says as he reaches for his small bowl of soup and lifts it to his lips. He blows delicately at the broth and says, "Seokjin may have room to represent you."

Hoseok sits forward and reaches for his own small black plastic bowl with red along the rim, and he lifts it to his lips. "Seokjin works as an agent?"

Yoongi sips at his soup and closes his eyes. A smile graces his lips, and Hoseok forgets for a moment how hungry he is – all he can do is stare.

"Seokjin started out as my in-house agent," Yoongi says as his eyelids flutter open. "But then he got bored of dealing with fussy models and slowly transitioned to becoming my assistant. Sorry, my goon."

A hint of a smile tugs at Hoseok's lips before he can stop himself. He has a sip of the miso soup, and the rich, savory broth instantly warms him, sending a chill along his spine as he adjusts to the sudden change in temperature. 

With another salty sip, a small square of tofu glides between his lips and practically melts on his tongue, and Hoseok understands why Yoongi reacts the way he does to savoring this soup. It really is delicious, and the perfect starter to the meal. 

"I'm not sure he would enjoy me, then," Hoseok jokes, holding the bowl close to his lips. Steam rises from the broth, and he enjoys the way it dances over his skin. "I'm pretty fussy."

Yoongi chuckles, shakes his head, and mutters, "You're not that bad," before having another sip. 

Hoseok sets his half-finished soup aside and reaches for his chopsticks. The inari is calling his name, and he reaches for a piece while Yoongi sets his empty soup bowl down, and he dips it rice-side-down into the soy sauce and wasabi.

Although inari is a simple dish of sticky rice tucked inside a soft, fried pocket of bean curd, there is a semi-sweetness to it that, paired with soy and wasabi, is quite delicious. He does his best to only bite the edge of it, leaning over his bowl to catch stray grains of rice that fall. 

He alternates between nibbles of the inari and slices of sashimi, hardly taking his eyes off the table until the meal is nearly finished. Yoongi fills the glasses of sake, and he stands slightly to reach across the table and set Hoseok's close to him. 

With Yoongi hovering over the table, looming over Hoseok, the breath catches in Hoseok's throat. He watches as Yoongi smiles slightly and licks his lips, then settles back in his seat.

"How many models are you regularly kissing and flirting with?" Hoseok asks, reaching for his sake.

Yoongi shakes his head, and mutters, "Hoseok—"

"I'm serious," Hoseok interrupts, sitting tall in his seat. "Whatever it is you're doing with me, I don't want it if this is something you're doing with someone else, too. The rides home and gentle knee touches…all of it. I'm serious."

"I'm not taking anyone else on dinner dates or squeezing anyone else's knee," Yoongi insists. "The only other model I am spending time with is Sunmi, but I am not eager to piss off her partner."

"But if she were single—" Hoseok attempts. 

Yoongi shuts him down, "No, Hoseok." He snickers and reaches for his cup of sake. "Not even if she were single."

Hoseok raises his eyebrow. "You aren't fucking Seori?"

At this, Yoongi chuckles. "Did Namjoon tell on me?" When Hoseok says nothing, he continues, "Seori and I had a fling once."

"When?"

"Months ago."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth. "How many months ago?"

Yoongi lifts his sake and shoots it back, then reaches for the carafe to give himself a refill. "Hoseok, you and I shared one kiss. That hardly gives you grounds to interrogate me."

With a heavy sigh, Hoseok extends his right foot, reaching until he feels the toe of his loafer make gentle contact with the side of Yoongi's leg. Yoongi looks down, then up, and raises an eyebrow.

"You intend to share more than just one kiss with me," Hoseok challenges, scooting forward and rubbing his toe higher. "Don't you?"

Yoongi swallows visibly. "This is hardly appropriate behavior to conduct with your boss, Hoseok."

"You started it," Hoseok says plainly, dancing the edge of his shoe against Yoongi's knee. "Call Seokjin. Ask him to represent me."

Yoongi dances his tongue between his teeth as he watches Hoseok. Then he rolls his eyes, reaches one hand below the table, and grazes his fingertips over the joint of Hoseok's ankle. Despite it being a light, innocuous touch, Hoseok's exhale comes out a bit shaky, and he sets down his neglected cup of sake. 

"What is it that you want, exactly?" Yoongi asks. 

He scoots forward, causing Hoseok's shoe to graze his inner thigh. And despite how unaffected Yoongi seems by the movement, Hoseok's heart pounds at the thought. 

"I don't know," Hoseok lies, taking a deep breath and stretching his leg forward. 

Hoseok can feel the moment the toe of his shoe very lightly grazes Yoongi's crotch. Yoongi's lips gently part, and Hoseok knows he must look ridiculous with his mouth hanging halfway open, but it is the only way he can hope to breathe; the air feels far thicker than it had moments ago. 

"You don't know?" Yoongi challenges, scooting forward again. 

The bottom of Hoseok's loafer presses firmly against Yoongi's crotch, and at the same time, both men gasp. Yoongi's eyelids flutter ever so slightly while Hoseok's mouth and eyes widen. 

Yoongi tips his head to the side and asks, "Then what are you doing?"

"Fucking with you," Hoseok mutters before he can stop himself. "Wanted to see how far I could push you."

"Ah," Yoongi responds, resting a hand against Hoseok's shoe while the other pushes the hem of his pants upward to gently grab his ankle, skin against skin. "Well, you have yet to reach your limit."

A server approaches, and Hoseok instinctively attempts to yank his leg away, but Yoongi holds his foot in place with one hand while tugging the napkin from where it is tucked into his shirt and draping it over Hoseok's shoe. 

"Is there anything more I can bring you tonight?" the server asks, glancing between Yoongi, Hoseok, and what is left of their meal. 

"One more bottle should be good," Yoongi says, leaning forward and pressing himself against the sole of Hoseok's shoe while grabbing the sake carafe to give it a shake. 

There seems to be liquid inside, and Yoongi reaches with his other hand, silently asking Hoseok for his cup. 

"One more bottle coming right up," the server says as they turn to walk away. 

Hoseok watches Yoongi, feeling trapped in place and dumbfounded, foot lodged between Yoongi's thighs. 

"Cup?" Yoongi asks, making Hoseok heavy-blink and reach for his sake.

Hoseok slams back the drink, sighing through the sudden onslaught of very tasty liquid. He holds his cup out toward Yoongi, cradling it delicately in the fingers of both hands while Yoongi fills it with more clear sake.

He fills his own cup next, sets down the carafe, and lifts the cup. "To finding you an agent," he says with a grin.

Hoseok lifts his cup and nods, then shoots the liquid back. He reaches for the carafe, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, insisting on being the one to handle it. 

By the time the server returns, the sake is gone, and a new carafe is set between them. Yoongi does not seem to notice the fact that Hoseok's shoe is still in place between his legs, and Hoseok makes no move to drop it. 

"Ah, right," Yoongi says after pouring them another glass. "I forgot that I have business to attend to."

Hoseok watches as Yoongi pulls out his phone, tipping his head to the side curiously. 

Yoongi thumbs around, then holds the phone to his ear, eyes on Hoseok as he smiles and says, "Seokjin…might I ask you for a favor?"

* * *

The second round of sake renders the two of them unable to swing by Dior and peruse their winter line. Or, perhaps the game of footsie distracted them from their goal. Likely, it is a combination of both. 

Hoseok opts not to get dropped off at home first, which is a mistake. Jeongguk is already at their favorite dive bar, and he watches as Hoseok gets out of Yoongi's vehicle, undoubtedly clocking the way he stumbles as his legs remember how to walk. 

To make matters worse, Yoongi must notice Hoseok wave to Jeongguk, who sits directly behind where Hoseok stands, on a rickety metal chair on the bar patio, smoking a cigarette while wearing a skin-tight black shirt tucked into baggy black pants. 

"You know him?" Yoongi asks, turning back to Hoseok, who pats his pockets down to make sure he has everything, standing beside the open passenger door. Yoongi wears the mask over his mouth, but his eyes are visible.

"I do," Hoseok says. "Why? Do you?"

Yoongi studies Hoseok briefly, then says, "He looks like someone I've photographed before."

"Interesting!" Hoseok chirps, drawing out the syllables.

"Something tells me you already know about this," Yoongi grumbles somewhat defensively. 

Hoseok grins, sarcastically asking, "No…why would you think that?"

"Drink water," Yoongi says with a hint of concern that breaks through the annoyance in his eyes, clearly eager to change the topic and leave. "And text me if you need a ride home."

Hoseok sighs and waves Yoongi off, muttering, "I can take care of myself," then he closes the door and stumbles onto the sidewalk, giggling as he nearly trips over his own feet. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jeongguk grumbles as Hoseok approaches.

Hoseok is definitely more than tipsy, but he blames his giddiness for his inability to function properly. Seokjin had agreed over the phone to represent Hoseok, meaning once they sign a new contract, Hoseok will feel more confident to pursue his pretty boss. 

He also felt Yoongi become rock-hard under his shoe, but that is a detail he does his best to block out for the time being. That one he will unpack later, once he is home alone. 

"Business dinner," Hoseok responds, doing his best to act sober. He plops himself down in a chair across from Jeongguk and sighs dramatically, wishing he had a glass of water.

"Business dinner?" Jeongguk parrots incredulously. "Dressed like that? Stumbling around drunk? Be serious. I thought you were in crisis mode?"

"I am in peak crisis mode," Hoseok insists. "And anyway, Namjoon dressed me like this. Doesn't he have good taste."

"Namjoon," Jeongguk says in a dreamy tone, lips tugging into a smile. "Should have let him rail me, instead. He was way nicer."

"I bet you still could," Hoseok mutters, fighting the urge to take out his phone and text Namjoon to ask if he would be interested.

Jeongguk looks out into the distance, doe eyes bright and shining. Then he shrugs, and says, "Maybe some other time," and sits back, taking a drag of his diminishing cigarette. "So, what did you want to discuss?"

"Well, Ggukie, I was wondering if you would be open to telling me about what happened between you and my boss."

Jeongguk takes a sharp inhale of nicotine and holds it in. Then he shakes his head and blows a plume of smoke out toward the street. "Nah. Too sober."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and stands up quickly, holding his hand out to Jeongguk while saying, "Let's fix that."

* * *

Two bars and several rounds of shots later, Jeongguk and Hoseok are sitting on the couch in the back of some dingy neighborhood haunt that only people in their mid-twenties seem to patronize. Hoseok has his legs up on a low, wooden table on which neglected pint glasses of water sit creating rings of condensation around their bases, and Jeongguk has his legs draped over Hoseok's lap.

"It was just little shit at first, you know?" Jeongguk mutters, eyes half-squinted in part because there are several bright neon beer signs just to the right of Hoseok's head giving off a greenish-blueish glow. 

Hoseok nods.

"Little touches here and there, using pet names and favoritism, asking me to come to his office, inviting me to his studio. He took it slow at first, as if to suss out whether I was interested. But of course I was interested. I mean, you've fucking seen him."

Hoseok nods a little more emphatically; he absolutely has seen him.

"But then he got really assertive, pressing against me in his office, muttering shit like," Jeongguk's voice drops to a low, mocking octave, "we shouldn't be doing this, and, you drive me crazy, and, I can't keep my hands off you."

Hoseok remembers Yoongi cornering him in the makeup room. But you understand why we can’t do that, yes?

"Then one thing led to another, and he had me draped over the couch of his studio with his tongue in my ass."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters, in part because he was not expecting this conversation to veer into this territory so abruptly and in part because he has sat on that couch several times!

Jeongguk says nothing more, only stares ahead as if whatever he is searching for is lightyears away. 

"So…" Hoseok attempts, "then what?"

With a loud sigh, Jeongguk says, "Then we started fucking. Often. At his place, in his office, in the restroom at a fancy sushi spot."

"Oh my god," Hoseok mutters once more, eyes widening while staring out at the busy bar but not looking at anything in particular. "He took me to a fancy sushi spot."

"I've never had someone so eager to make me cum, like…god, the shit that man does. I pretty much stayed prepped and ready to bottom at all times."

"He was always in control?" Hoseok asks.

"Always. And it was amazing until it wasn't. Some girl named Seori was hired and he dropped me like a sweet potato."

Hoseok frowns, turning his gaze to Jeongguk. "Awe, Ggukie. Not a sweet potato."

Jeongguk nods slowly, nibbling on the inside of his mouth. "I know I shouldn't have taken it personally, but it was…it was a lot. He always said he wasn't into relationships but it was hard not wanting more from someone who made me feel so good."

Hoseok heavy-blinks, gazing around the bar, at people standing and sitting, talking and shouting about this or that. He idly traces his fingertips over the hems of Jeongguk's baggy jeans, trying to sort out what he should do. 

On the one hand, he really wants to try to make Yoongi hand over control and grovel for him. But he also feels sad for his friend.

Jeongguk seems to have gotten lost in his mind again, and Hoseok is no better. He still has so many questions, but it is hard to pull any one of them coherently to the surface. 

Finally, Jeongguk sits up straight, removing his legs from Hoseok's lap while muttering, "I think I'm going to venture out and find a sweet potato vendor."

"Okay," Hoseok says, mind still swirling with all the new information. He is definitely drunk enough to call it a night, but he also considers joining Jeongguk on his quest. "Yeah, okay, I think I would also like a sweet potato."

As Hoseok and Jeongguk venture out into the night, the details of events become foggy. He stumbles down the sidewalk for an indeterminate amount of time, and suddenly he is at a food cart, pulling notes from his wallet in exchange for a piping hot, foil-wrapped sweet potato. 

Next, he is at a small metal table sitting next to Jeongguk, typing a haphazard text message to Namjoon that reads, Eating a sweet potato and thinking of you. Because you are semi-sweet and also thicc. You and Jeongguk would make a cute couple btw!

Then he is shivering, still at the same small table, answering a phone call from Yoongi. He hugs his arms around himself tight while Jeongguk stumbles off into the night, toward his apartment two blocks away – also in the direction Hoseok lives. 

"You sure you don't need a ride?" Yoongi asks, voice deep and caring. 

"I'm like three blocks away," Hoseok insists, getting up to stumble in the direction of his drunk friend. "It would take you longer to come to me than it would take me to walk there."

Yoongi hums. “At least stay on the phone with me while you walk?”

Hoseok grins, ignoring the fluttering of his heart as he mutters, “Geez, obsessed with me, much?”

"Excuse me for caring," Yoongi responds, sounding somewhat affronted.

Hoseok chuckles and walks slowly, watching his feet meet brick, attempting but failing to step on as few cracks as possible. He smiles and says, "I don't know, I'm drunk enough that I might start saying regrettable things."

There is a pause, followed by, "Such as…?"

"Such as that I know you used to fuck my friend," Hoseok giggles, squeezing his eyes closed for a second because he knows he must have pushed Yoongi's buttons. "He told me all about your moves, Yoongi, and how you pretty much used the same formula that you're using with me. Which begs the question…which cute newcomer will take my spot, and how long do I have before I'm dropped like a hot little sweet potato?"

The sigh on the other end of the line is so audible, Hoseok can picture the downturn in Yoongi's eyes and the way his lips slightly frown while he is thinking. 

When he says nothing, Hoseok continues, "See, I warned you," dragging each vowel out dramatically.

"And what would you like me to say, Hoseok? Shall I call Jeongguk and apologize to him?"

"Nah," Hoseok responds, glancing up at brick buildings, pleased that he is still stumbling the correct way. "That would just piss him off."

Ahead, Jeongguk has stopped to lean against a tree and light a cigarette, and Hoseok makes note of the way his flat tummy curves from the way he stands slightly hunched over before his hips are swallowed whole by baggy jeans. He pictures Yoongi's large hands pressing on those hips, and the way Jeongguk must have gasped so sweetly. 

Then, Hoseok shakes his head, attempting to dispel the thought; he needs to get laid.

"But you have some reason for bringing this up?" Yoongi asks. 

With a sigh, Hoseok says, "I just hate to think my days are numbered. It's exciting to have caught your attention, but it seems," he drags the word out playfully, "that your attention is fleeting."

"We can talk about this when we're both sober," Yoongi mutters lowly.

Not wanting Jeongguk to overhear Hoseok talking to Yoongi, he stops in his tracks. Sadness sweeps over him, and his body undulates like overcooked pasta ever so slightly in place. Although the sweet potato has bought him a little time before blacking out, he is still quite drunk.

"Are we doing anything productive tomorrow?" Hoseok whines. "These last few days of random shoots have felt pointless, and…I might throw up."

"You might throw up tonight from being drunk, or tomorrow from being bored?" Yoongi clarifies. 

"Honestly…" Hoseok screws up his face, thinking it over. "Both."

Yoongi chuckles. "I can't believe my top model is calling in sick because he was out drinking all night."

Hoseok is quick to push the blame. "You got me drunk first!"

Yoongi laughs, and it is a pretty, rich deep melody that causes Hoseok to sway. Then he says, "Seok…you know tomorrow is Saturday, right?"

Relief washes over Hoseok, and he nearly stumbles to his knees. "Oh, thank god."

"I would like to see you briefly, tomorrow, though," Yoongi adds. "If you are available. Seokjin would like to iron out a contract and have everything set in stone as quickly as possible so that he can move forward with your next round of Dior shoots. We can meet up in the evening, if you prefer?"

Ahead, Jeongguk has continued to walk home, so Hoseok continues, as well. 

"Were these random ass shoots just your excuse to keep seeing me?" Hoseok asks coyly. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi drawls, making Hoseok inhale deeply as a tingle works over his body from the sound. He hums in response, and Yoongi continues, "Please stay on topic. Will you be available to sign the contract tomorrow?"

Hoseok grins. "Only if you can admit that you kept me around this week just to see me."

"I would rather talk about my feelings for you once we are sober and you have that contract with Seokjin signed."

"Your feelings for me," Hoseok mutters, mostly to himself. 

There is a pause, followed by Yoongi asking, "Are you home yet?"

Hoseok stares at the silhouettes of trees and square buildings ahead, the darkness broken by glowing street lamps. "One more block,"

"I could have picked you up by now."

Hoseok sighs. "You totally could not have. And anyway, I wanted to walk."

"Were you dishonest about how far the walk is? Or are you having a more leisurely stroll than usual?"

"Jeongguk stopped ahead and I didn't want to catch up to him while on the phone with you."

Yoongi sighs. "How long have you known that Jeongguk and I have a past?"

In far too chipper of a tone, Hoseok says, "Since the day I was hired."

Yoongi says nothing, and Hoseok wishes he could see his expression. At this point, he is too intoxicated to care whether he could be pushing Yoongi away. He still believes that no matter what, he will have a shot at fucking him at least once. 

It is not as if Hoseok has any interest in pursuing anything more with him. 

"Almost there," Hoseok chirps. He has a pep in his step now that his building is in view. It feels like ages since he has taken a nice hot shower, and he desperately wants to wash his face. "Oh, Hey, boss?"

Yoongi hums.

"Do you need this outfit back? Can you, like…deduct it from my paycheck, or something? Namjoon really put his babussy into this fit, and I might want to wear it again."

With a sigh, Yoongi mutters, "It's yours. Keep it."

"Thanks, boss. But how much do you think—"

"I'm not charging you for it, Hoseok. You're correct that it suits you well. Keep it."

Hoseok's cheeks warm, and he grins, raising his shoulders to his ears with glee and dropping them down. He makes his voice as soft as possible as he says, "Thanks, boss. You're too sweet."

Yoongi grunts, making Hoseok quietly laugh to himself. Either he has struck a nerve with Yoongi, the man is very tired, or both. 

"Alright, I'm walking up to the front door of my building. I'm home safe. You don't need to stay on the line any longer."

"Hoseok," Yoongi says, making him stop with his hand lifted to the knob, key dangling between his fingers. "Tomorrow, will you come discuss a new contract with Seokjin and I?"

"Oh," he mutters, sliding his key into the knob and twisting it open. "Yeah. Tomorrow evening is fine."

"Wonderful. I'll bring a lawyer along so that we can get everything finalized quickly."

Hoseok makes his way to the stairwell, slowly taking each step. "And then we'll celebrate?"

A pause, then, "How would you like to celebrate, Hoseok?"

Hoseok hums, making a show of the fact that he is giving this matter very serious thought, despite only one thing running through his head. 

"A kiss," he finally says, biting his lip as he shuffles down the hallway to his door. The closer he gets to his apartment, the heavier his limbs feel. 

"Alright," Yoongi grumbles, making Hoseok grin. "I will kiss you to celebrate."

Hoseok punches his code into the keypad beside his door, and when it clicks open, he lets out a long, happy sigh. Home at last.

"I'm in my apartment now. Gonna strip out of these clothes and take a nice, hot shower."

Yoongi makes no sound, so Hoseok continues. 

"Maybe while I'm in there, I'll think about earlier, at the restaurant, with my foot pressed between your legs."

Yoongi sighs, and Hoseok steps from his shoes, feeling victorious. 

"I felt how hard you got under my toes. You liked it, boss."

"I did," Yoongi admits, voice low. 

"I liked it, too."

"Yeah?" 

Hoseok shrugs out of the blazer and delicately drapes it over the back of his couch, then he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins to unbuckle his belt. 

"Yeah. The way your lips parted and eyes widened, so faint and so eager to hold your pleasure in. Beautiful."

"I could say the same for you," Yoongi responds, voice breathy. Hoseok wonders if he is touching himself. "I saw how affected you became."

"I want to see you like that when you're not having to hold back," Hoseok practically moans. "I want to make you unravel."

Yoongi hums and Hoseok holds his breath, waiting for whatever delicious thing he may have to offer. 

But then he says, "We should talk about this when we're sober."

With a sigh, Hoseok's body feels worn and heavy; his spirits feel dashed. 

"You're right," he mutters. "Good night, boss."

"See you tomorrow, Hoseok."

Hoseok lowers the phone from his ear, grumbling, "See ya," as he hangs up.

* * *

Despite the joyous occasion, Yoongi behaves rather coldly. 

At first, Hoseok chalks it up to the fact that Seokjin and a lawyer are present to draw a new contract for his modeling representation. The document is straightforward; Seokjin insists on taking almost no money from Hoseok for his services, citing that he makes more than enough being Yoongi's personal goon – a word he says playfully, with a wink. 

They discuss long-term plans that stretch further than Hoseok's employment with M Magazine, should he move on to other publications, and everything feels official and exciting in a way Hoseok hasn't experienced since he graduated from college as a fresh face getting scouted by seedy, desperate photographers and art directors. 

But even as they bow to the lawyer and bid him farewell, there is something sour looming over Yoongi, like a bitter little stormcloud threatening to burst at any moment and become everyone else's problem. Seokjin even nudges him, attempting to crack jokes, but he rarely smiles, and he hardly makes eye contact with Hoseok. 

It feels like whiplash after how playful he was last night, and Hoseok hovers around the sofa, not feeling welcome enough to sit, but not sure whether he should leave. Until finally, Yoongi stretches and yawns, and Hoseok sees that as an opening. 

"Well, you're tired," he says, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his pressed, black fitted slacks. "I'm tired, as well. So I think I'll head out."

"Yah, Hoseokah!" Seokjin barks. "We should celebrate!"

A yawn works its way from Hoseok's chest, and he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. Seokjin flinches away as if he is at risk of catching some kind of virus from a yawn and frowns.

"We could schedule something for next weekend," he suggests. "Or whenever all of us are free."

"All of us are free right now," Seokjin insists. "Yoongichi, you don't have any extravagant dates planned, do you?"

Yoongi shakes his head, but his eyes are glued to his phone. He seems stressed out, and frankly, it annoys Hoseok. It feels rude to build up his excitement to see him this evening, only for him to act completely indifferent to Hoseok's presence.

"Why don't we all go out to celebrate once Seokjin and I have our first round of Dior shoots under our belt?" Hoseok recommends. 

Yoongi nods, eyes never leaving his phone, and Seokjin sighs but agrees. 

"Alright, sounds like a plan."

"Cool," Hoseok says, nodding listlessly, "then I'm going to head out."

Finally, Yoongi lifts his head to look at Hoseok fully. And for a split, brief, teeny tiny moment, Hoseok thinks Yoongi might finally be direct with him. But then his eyes fall back to his phone as he grumbles, "I'm glad the three of us could sort this out."

"Need a ride?" Seokjin asks. 

Hoseok shrugs but happily says, "I would appreciate it."

Seokjin approaches Yoongi and mutters something lowly before giving him a slap on the shoulder, which Yoongi more or less seems to ignore. Then he makes his way to the door, where Hoseok trails along to slide into the pretty black loafers he wore just last night. 

Hoseok does not say goodbye to Yoongi, and when they step into the elevator, he lets out a sigh.

"I hate when he gets preoccupied," Seokjin complains. 

Hoseok chuckles. "It's honestly pretty rude."

Hoseok pulls out his phone and sends Yoongi a message—

Hoseok The way you hardly looked at me tonight is absolutely crazy. I no longer want that celebratory kiss.

—then tucks the device into his pocket. He does not expect a response to come any time soon.

"I love him, and he's a great businessman, but he is kind of an idiot," Seokjin says, making Hoseok laugh. "He has no fucking interpersonal communication skills."

It feels good to laugh, and Hoseok does not hold back. He bends in half, gripping his knees as the cords of his untied black, silk modern hanbok hang past his knees. He has to apologize to someone once the doors slide open and he steps forward, nearly barreling into them.

"Geez, it's not that funny," Seokjin complains despite still laughing.

"Oh, it definitely is," Hoseok insists as they make their way out into the evening. 

* * *

Hoseok does not hear from Yoongi for the rest of the night while he is out with his friends at the club, nor the entirety of Sunday while he is letting Jimin distract him with brunch and shopping. 

And by Monday morning, when there is still no word, Hoseok decides he no longer cares. He has a shoot later in the morning with Yoongi, and he begrudgingly gets out of bed and goes through his routine as if it were a standard early morning, with the plan of stopping by his favorite cafe for a sweet treat and a latte.

The weather is hot but not stifling, and Hoseok wears the same flowing black silk modern hanbok top he wore to Yoongi's place on Saturday, untied over a tight black tank top and mid-length, black wool shorts. And, of course, his favorite new chunky black leather loafers. He tucks his phone, keys, wallet, and lip balm into a small black handbag and sets out for the day with a forced smile. 

And truthfully, the cafe trip does wonders for the residual sour mood Yoongi had put Hoseok in, leaving him in a much more positive headspace. That is until he arrives at the studio. 

The familiar sights and sounds are like a weight on Hoseok's shoulders, but he holds his head high and makes a beeline through the expansive studio space to his sanctuary. The makeup room. 

Upon entering, Hoseok finds Seokjin and Namjoon standing by a metal rack of clothing, sifting through outfits. He sets his coffee down on the long vanity counter by the mirror wall and prances over to see what they have in store for him. 

"Yoongi wants us to start with this," Seokjin says as he pulls out a charcoal grey blazer and matching slacks.

Hoseok wonders if this is the grey wide-legged pant that Yoongi said he thinks Hoseok will look stunning in. He rolls his eyes at the memory, then smiles widely as he chirps, "Looks great, Jinnie-hyung!"

It takes no time at all for Namjoon to have Hoseok dressed in the grey suit with his hair slicked back and his face made up. By now, they have the process down to a science; Hoseok hardly has a chance to get comfortable in the makeup chair. 

They opt not to pair the outfit with jewelry, but Hoseok wears black and white sneakers that he is not a fan of for this type of outfit. This look is currently all the rage with these high-end brands, and does not understand why.

"I'll let Yoongichi know we're ready for him," Seokjin says as he leaves the room, and Hoseok gives a thumbs-up.

"Wow, so Seokjin-hyung is your agent?" Namjoon asks. 

Hoseok swivels around in his tall, black chair and smiles widely. "Yeah! I'm excited. He seems very knowledgeable and dedicated, and he doesn't want to take all my earnings."

"Of course, he doesn't," Namjoon chuckles. "The co-founder of M Magazine undoubtedly makes a pretty penny."

"Co-founder?" Hoseok asks, shocked. "Yoongi only mentioned he was previously an agent and then shifted gears to work as his assistant goon."

Namjoon shrugs. "Seokjin-hyung has always done a little of everything, with the exception of photography. He has an eye for beauty and design, but prefers the more tedious duties that come with being an assistant. I think he likes being useful. And he tends to feign modesty, which is why nobody refers to him as the co-founder."

That checks out, and Hoseok nods. "Well, I am glad I have a use for him. Gotta get to stardom somehow!"

"Trust me," Namjoon says, leaning close. "You will."

Hoseok visibly swoons, causing Namjoon to lean away with regret painted on his face. "You're the sweetest, Joon Baboon!"

A deep, impassive voice cuts through the joy, with one simple word.

"Ready?"

Hoseok turns to find Yoongi standing in the doorway dressed in a white blazer unbuttoned over a white dress shirt, with matching white shorts, tall black socks, and black loafers. His hair is slicked back, combed behind his ears, there is a pair of black glasses tucked into the neck of his shirt, and he wears a scowl on his pretty face. His trusty camera is in his hand, strap wrapped around his wrist, and his eyebrows are raised high with impatience. 

"Sure thing," Hoseok says flatly, mood instantly killed. 

He slides from his chair and follows Yoongi out, into the studio, to the corner where he prefers to shoot, near the bottom of the steps that lead up to his office.

There is nothing for Hoseok to pose on or near, so he just stands against the dark backdrop, angling his body and elongating his neck and limbs. Yoongi shoots quickly, stepping back and moving forward, eye glued to the viewfinder. 

When he finally does glance over the camera, it is to say, "Give me a little movement, like a twirl but with one foot kicking outward."

Hoseok does some twirls and kicks, accentuating the loose cut of the slacks and doing his best to embody fluidity. He feels as if these shots will be magnificent, and he waits for Yoongi to crack a smile and tell him he is doing well. 

But instead, Yoongi drops his hands to his sides and says, "That's good," then he lifts his camera high enough to begin sifting through the photos. 

On the breast of Yoongi's jacket is a pretty white flower that stands out in the bright glow of the box lights, and Hoseok curses himself for wanting to rub his palms across it, heavy-blinking to avert his eyes.

"New outfit?" Hoseok asks. 

Yoongi shrugs. "If you have time for more, sure."

"If I have time?" Hoseok bites back. "I've barely been here for an hour."

Yoongi continues to flip through photos, making Hoseok wonder if he heard him at all. Then he says, "Yeah, whatever your agent wants," and walks off. 

"What the fuck," Hoseok mutters under his breath as he turns and stomps back toward the makeup room. This behavior has him wishing he would have stepped on Yoongi's balls a little harder at the sushi restaurant. 

Seokjin already has outfits laid out when Hoseok returns, and he is changed into more casual wear, sporting an array of hoodies, cardigans, and handbags. Yoongi is just as standoffish, giving Hoseok almost nothing to work with, but he continues to change shirts and pose, doing his best. 

And then, suddenly, Yoongi's phone rings loud and shrill, making everyone but himself flinch. He sighs and stops what he is doing, muttering, "One moment, sorry."

Yoongi's phone is typically always on vibrate while at work, and he absolutely never drops everything to answer the call. How uncouth, Hoseok thinks, standing under the warm lights with his hands on his hips while Yoongi walks several paces away, talking lowly into his phone.

As soon as he returns, Yoongi mutters, "Something has come up, but it seems like we shot everything we need. Thanks for everything. Great job today." He only spares Hoseok a quick glance, and then he turns to walk up the stairs to his office. 

Hoseok sighs, nods to himself, and begins back toward the makeup room. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Seori rushes in through the front doors of the building, dressed in a light pink hoodie and sweatpants and looking frazzled. She makes a beeline for the steps and runs to the top, where she quickly knocks but does not bother to wait before walking into Yoongi's office and closing the door behind her. 

The feeling that swirls in Hoseok's tummy is envy mixed with something else – something even more bitter. Something numbing. He can't quite put his thumb on it, but he chooses not to dwell on it. 

Until he enters the makeup room with a heavy sigh, and – upon realizing only Namjoon is present – begins to crumble emotionally. Despite feeling the desire to cry, tears only prickle gently around the edges of his lids but never fully gather. More than anything, he just feels defeated.

"I didn't follow your advice, okay," he admits, taking Namjoon somewhat by surprise as he throws himself on the makeup chair. "I should go home. I need to clear my head. I feel so—"

"What happened?" Namjoon asks kindly, approaching with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. 

"You warned me about that man, and I listened! I really did! But my heart and my body did not, and now I feel like I am a marionette hanging from strings eager for a master. But rather than tug on my strings and make me dance, he just fucking leaves me hanging."

"That's…a beautifully pathetic analogy," Namjoon mutters, dimples on display. 

Hoseok attempts to swat at the handsome man, but Namjoon simply leans slightly back, avoiding his fingertips. 

"I don't even care about being in a relationship with him," Hoseok mutters somewhat under his breath. "Like, I'm foolish, but I'm not that stupid. I just…ugh! He…ugh!"

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head. It is not the laugh of a man who wants Hoseok to feel foolish, but one of a man who has likely had this conversation this time and time again.

"He charms in his own way," Namjoon says. "And then he puts up a wall when he thinks he is getting close to someone. It's like he's terrified of just allowing himself to open up to people."

"Why?" Hoseok sighs.

Namjoon shrugs. "No idea. There's no shocking character reveal or tragic backstory, you know? Yeah, his parents are wealthy and they don't hover, but they are kind and supportive. His relationship with his brother is casual and positive. Aside from his playboy tendencies, he is a great person to work with, and a great person to work for. No gambling problems, no drinking problems, no sordid past. He just…doesn't like to commit to anyone."

Another sigh pours from Hoseok's mouth, this one drawn out with a groan. He drops his head back dramatically, feeling extra annoyed – exorbitantly annoyed. 

Hoseok finds nothing inherently wrong with having commitment issues or with preferring to sleep around without strings attached. He and his friend group have always been pretty loose with hooking up, and it has never caused drama because they all know where they stand with one another. 

But it is frustrating that the result is a lack of empathy and poor communication. Hoseok is fine with being someone's piece of ass on the down low, but he needs to know where he stands. And it annoys Hoseok that, rather than finding a reason to hate Yoongi and make the idea of backing away from him feel easier, he really sympathizes with the guy. 

Hoseok laughs to himself, despite feeling little joy. "If he wanted to just fuck around, I wouldn't even object. And I have been rather forward with suggesting I am open to it, but he just clams up and doesn't say anything."

"Mmhmm," Namjoon grumbles in a tone that suggests he knows this all too well.

"Whatever," Hoseok sighs. "We did well today, and although he was the opposite of helpful or encouraging, I feel good about the shoots. So I suppose I could call it a day."

Namjoon nods and seems to glance at the time on his phone. "Seokjin left during the last shoot – said he had some important business to deal with – but he asked me to tell you that you are amazing, and doing great, and that he looks forward to going over the photos with you and Yoongi. He also says to take some time off and he will contact you with a schedule some time this week."

This time, the sigh that Hoseok lets out is one of relief. Relief to have an agent who is receptive and feels positively about the work they are doing. Relief to have some time off to relax, pamper himself, and get some fucking space from Yoongi. 

He changes back into his black tank top, silk hanbok top, shorts, and loafers. With his arms hanging open, he convinces Namjoon to lean in for a semi-awkward hug, and thanks him for all his hard work. Then he opens that door with a fortifying breath and sets out toward the front doors, eager to get home and unwind. 

The studio is quiet, with only one photographer and model on set in the far left corner. Hoseok does not even look their way, eager to reach the sliding glass doors. And he almost does, before he hears a familiar voice call for him.

"Jung Hoseok-ssi."

Hoseok physically recoils from the sound, closing his eyes to take a deep, annoyed breath. He was so close to making it outside – just a couple more feet from freedom. 

With a plastered smile, Hoseok spins, asking, "Yes, boss?" as he searches for the source of the voice. 

Yoongi stands at the top of the stairs, arms straight down at his sides. He asks, "Do you have a moment?" 

Hoseok nods and makes his way through the large studio space, heart betraying him in a frantic dance the closer he gets. He wonders if there will be any visible trace of Seori on Yoongi's skin or any lingering scent of perfume. 

With each footfall up to Yoongi's office, Hoseok feels his body undergo more and more duress. His legs and hands tremble, his palms begin to prickle, his breathing feels labored. Yoongi turns and enters his office as Hoseok gets close, and once he reaches the top, he takes a fortifying inhale. 

"Yes?" Hoseok asks, attempting to come off as impassively as possible.

"Close the door, please," Yoongi says, making his way toward his desk.

Hoseok closes the door and gives himself a second to collect his composure before turning toward Yoongi and approaching. He expects to find Yoongi sitting at his chair, but instead, he is on the corner of his desk, half-sitting with one foot suspended somewhat, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"I owe you an apology," Yoongi says. His hair is all in place, and there is no sign on his clothing or skin that might suggest anything transpired with Seori. 

Still, Hoseok scoffs, nods, and says, "Yeah, you do." 

"I understand that sometimes my behavior can be a bit…" Yoongi takes a moment to choose his words, and Hoseok opts to fill in the blank for him. 

"Confusing. Frustrating. Demeaning."

"Distant," Yoongi provides.

"Distant," Hoseok parrots with a humorless chuckle. "Sure, yeah, that's certainly one way to put it."

There is sincerity in his rich tone as Yoongi drops his arms to his sides and says, "I'm sorry." 

"You could have at least sent a reassuring text message. Or even an apology. Any kind of communication at all."

"My distracted state the other night was nothing personal, but I should have given you a heads up that I had a lot on my plate."

"The other night, all weekend, all day," Hoseok corrects, allowing himself to feel the full range of his anger. "Not one word. You gave me nothing."

Yoongi sighs and slowly stands, remaining leaned against his desk. 

"And, look, I don't feel like you owe me an explanation," Hoseok says, eager to make his desires clear. "But a simple heads up would be nice. I know that you and I are not an item, and I don't care that we aren't – that's not my goal with you. But don't let me play footsie with your cock under the table and tease me with promises of a kiss, but then give me the cold shoulder."

Something in Yoongi's gaze shifts – darkens. His lips part, and his stance relaxes. 

"So what is it that you want?" Yoongi asks.

"Truthfully?" Hoseok says, and Yoongi nods. "More than anything, I want a healthy work relationship. I want to excel in my field and become a supermodel, and I know that you and your team have the means to do that for me."

Yoongi nods, cracking a smile, filling Hoseok with pride and encouraging him to continue voicing his desires. "I also want to lay you out on your big, expensive desk, and fuck your brains out."

Yoongi's lips part wide in a gasp. It is subtle the way blush rises to his pretty cheeks, but even in the dim light of his office, Hoseok can make out a shift in hue.

"I'm not interested in having strings attached," Yoongi says with the lift of an eyebrow as if in warning. 

"No shit," Hoseok scoffs, holding firm, challenging eye contact. 

They stare at each other unmoving for only a few seconds, but those seconds drag on, thickening the air with rich, palpable tension. Hoseok slowly breathes in through his nose, allowing himself to dwell on the familiar musky and floral notes that cling to the air and drive him wild. 

"Come here," Yoongi commands softly, nearly a whisper. 

As if tugged by some invisible force, Hoseok stumbles forward automatically. Yoongi's thighs spread, allowing Hoseok to get nice and close, standing taller than usual with Yoongi's hips bending slightly. 

Hoseok sets his handbag down on the desk and looms, drinking in the heat exchanged between them. Whereas Yoongi had the upper hand last time – pulling Hoseok near, slotting their lips together, and pressing him into the wall – this time, Hoseok intends on giving him zero control. 

"Tell me what you want from me," Hoseok says, placing his hands on the edges of the desk and leaning close enough to smell the sweetness of Yoongi's breath. 

Yoongi's eyes fall to Hoseok's lips, and he very subtly smiles, saying, "I still owe you a kiss."

"You want to kiss me?"

Yoongi's lips twitch faintly. "Yes."

"Is that all?" Hoseok asks, tilting his head to the side as if giving into the command but keeping the miniscule distance between them. 

"I want you, Hoseok." Yoongi's rich timbre is as deep and alluring as the ocean, and undoubtedly posing just as big of a threat. "Physically…in any way you will allow me to have you…I want you."

"If I let you have me," Hoseok says softly, annunciating every syllable with purpose, "I need at least a little communication. No fucking around with my feelings. Even without strings attached, I still have feelings, Yoongi."

Hoseok drops honorifics, wondering if Yoongi will care, and Yoongi just nods, eyes pleading. He seems genuine, but he has also seemed genuine in the past. 

Still, Hoseok cannot hold back any longer. He rolls his hips forward, connecting their bodies before he connects their lips, breathing in the slight gasp that tumbles from Yoongi's mouth into his the moment their lips touch. 

Yoongi sighs into the kiss, but Hoseok has no intention of going easy on him. He rolls his hips again, forcing Yoongi's thighs to spread further as he licks over his pretty lips and darts his tongue inside the small opening. 

It comes as somewhat of a surprise the way Yoongi seems to melt and become pliant, hands still gripping the desk and giving Hoseok access to do as he pleases, moaning softly but unabashedly. Hoseok lifts a hand and cards it roughly into Yoongi's product-slickened hair, taking no care to prevent the strands from tugging before grabbing a handful. 

With a gasp and a whimper, Yoongi's mouth falls further open, and Hoseok licks inside, darting his tongue around to taste and tease. He hums whenever their lips enclose one another, only for Yoongi to moan each time Hoseok forces him to open wide again.

Finally, Yoongi lifts his hands and grips Hoseok's hips, digging his fingertips and pulling him close. Hoseok rolls his hips again, picking up a slow but firm rhythm, connecting their clothed cocks somewhat haphazardly but with a promise to Yoongi of what could be his. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, causing them to tug into a smile.

"Yes, pretty Yoongi?"

"Please," he rasps, fingertips digging with more purpose, pulling Hoseok's hips close. 

"Please, what?"

With a needy sigh, Yoongi tips his head back as if gasping for air. His lips are kiss-slick, and Hoseok sucks the bottom one between his teeth, only releasing when Yoongi whimpers a high, broken sound. 

"What is it, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks firmly, rubbing the tips of their noses together. 

Yoongi heavy-blinks as if struggling to gather his thoughts. He lets out a breathy chuckle, and Hoseok wonders if it is some kind of nervous tick. 

"I don't know," he mutters, eyes searching Hoseok's face. "I want more, but I'm not sure how we should proceed."

There is a shred of vulnerability in Yoongi's expression, laced in Yoongi's voice, that Hoseok so desperately wants to exploit. 

He nibbles on his own bottom lip, backing up only enough to fully take in Yoongis's face. He wonders if it would be more exquisite to use his mouth to make Yoongi fall apart or have the other on his knees for him. 

"I have an idea," Hoseok offers, cocking his head to the side before lowering to a nearby brown leather armchair.

Yoongi watches as Hoseok settles and scoots the heavy chair closer, leaning forward to press his palms against Yoongi's hips through the semi-soft, white wool of his trouser shorts. Yoongi's lidded gaze darkens, and he reaches slowly to graze the backs of his knuckles along Hoseok's cheek before pressing his thumb against Hoseok's bottom lip and dragging it down. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi groans, taking a step forward to properly tower over him. "You have no idea how many times I have dreamed of having you like this."

Hoseok grins, nibbles on the tip of Yoongi's thumb, and opens his mouth to fully suck the digit between his lips when there is a loud knock on the door, followed by the handle rattling. 

Panic rises, and Hoseok sits tall in the leather chair before instinctively slumping back. He is able to use his feet to push it back a little, putting space between himself and the desk.

Yoongi is quick to take a step back, cross one leg over the other, and fold his arms over his chest. He leans against his desk a stoic statue of a man, with his erection hidden nicely by the way he stands. Although there are subtle signs of Yoongi's lips having just been used, and his hair is somewhat out of place on one side, his expression is flat and gives absolutely nothing away.

In hindsight, Hoseok probably should have locked the door. 

"Yoongi-ah," a breathy female voice calls, "I know you said our conversation was over, but I'm here to— oh."

Hoseok turns to find Seori standing with her arm outstretched, holding the office door wide open. She wears a red satin robe that falls just above her knees, and her nipples stand out beneath the thin fabric. 

"Oh!" she says again, eyes darting between Yoongi and Hoseok. "I'm so— I'm sorry. I had no idea you were busy."

"What do you want?" Yoongi asks, running a hand over the hair that had come untucked behind his ear, flattening it somewhat. 

Hoseok focuses his attention on his boss, impressed by how measured and blank Yoongi can become in an instant. Absolutely nothing gives away the heated exchange they shared only moments earlier, nor any hint of interest in the model. 

"Can I, uh…talk to you?" Seori asks. 

Yoongi gives a curt nod and steps away from the desk, arms falling limply at his sides. And despite the hushed way in which Seori speaks on the other end of the room, the sound travels just enough for Hoseok to detect. 

"Please, I just want—"

"I told you, we're finished. Please accept that."

"But Yoongi, I—"

Yoongi speaks low and soft, but loud enough that Hoseok questions whether he wants to be overheard. "Please don't ruin your career over a brief tryst. You are a fine model, and I would hate to lose you because you cannot take no for an answer."

Whatever the woman says next is too pitchy and distraught for Hoseok to make out. He feels awkward eavesdropping now, cursing himself once more for not locking the door. Yoongi's voice drops to an octave that is undetectable at this distance, and soon the office door is clicking shut. 

An exasperated sigh pulls Hoseok's attention, and he turns to find Yoongi standing with his face tipped to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. Really, Yoongi has no one to blame but himself for this mess, yet Hoseok finds he feels for the man. 

"Wanna get out of here?" he offers. 

Yoongi snaps his gaze to Hoseok, instantly relaxing. Hoseok stands from the chair and fully faces Yoongi, but does not approach, watching as the man studies his face, seeming to weigh his options. 

Then he nods and says, "Yeah. Let's go."

Hoseok smooths his hands down his shorts and gathers his handbag while Yoongi quickly crosses the room and shuts off his monitor. He does not touch Hoseok as they leave, and Hoseok gives him space to lock up and walk down the steps toward the exit. 

Across the room, Seori is on the phone, and she seems distressed. Hoseok glances at Yoongi, watching whether or not the man seems concerned, unsurprised when he does not. As they approach the door, within earshot of the model, Yoongi turns to Hoseok, expression as flat as can be, and begins to talk shop.

"So, as I said," he mutters just loud enough to be overheard, "once we have the greenlight from Dior, Seokjin and I will sit down with you to discuss what the next steps are. There is talk of another brand scouting you, but I think Seokjin should be the one to deliver the good news."

By the time Yoongi finishes his sentence, they are outside. The air is far cooler now that the sun is beginning to set, and Hoseok's shoulders rise instinctively as he shivers through an exhale. He wonders if what Yoongi just said about another brand scouting him is really true, or just something he made up on the fly.

Yoongi walks to the left, where his vehicle is parked on the curb, and Hoseok follows suit, slipping into the passenger seat as soon as the door is unlocked and making haste to buckle his seatbelt. No words are exchanged as Yoongi presses the ignition start button and drives off, and Hoseok sits back in the cool leather seat, accepting his fate. 

Despite his attempts at fortifying his heart, Hoseok acknowledges that a small part of him does wonder what it would be like to be the only object of Yoongi's affection. Beyond his money and status in the industry, he imagines what it would be like to receive consistent, uninhibited attention from a man like Yoongi. 

The ride remains silent until Yoongi pulls up to the curb outside his apartment, puts the car into park, and sits back with a heavy exhale. 

"Seok," he grumbles, pulling Hoseok's attention. He likes that the nickname has returned, and he does his best to ignore the way goosebumps break out over his skin. "Out of an abundance of transparency, I just want to state that I am not currently, uh, seeing anyone else."

Hoseok has no idea what to say, so instead he stares. Despite Yoongi's innate ability to keep his expressions measured and cool, there are small tells that give away his nervousness, like the way he slightly darts his tongue across his bottom lip, and how his eyes seem to focus in and out while he thinks. 

"Seori may seem like a current and constant nuisance, but she and I only hooked up once, months ago. I don't want to reduce her worth by calling it a drunken mistake, but that genuinely is all that the experience was. And, well, I don't want to point any blame, but it seems that your presence in the studio has caused her to ramp up her attempts at repeating what we did." 

Yoongi sighs, screwing up his face as if he is pained as he says, "The other day, when I was on my phone during the contract signing, I was attempting to assuage her anger with me giving you the cover, as well as inside ads."

"You were text-fighting with her all evening?" Hoseok asks with more of an edge to his voice than he intended, because, truth be told, he is a bit angry that Yoongi felt he couldn't just say something. 

"My reputation is somewhat exaggerated. I do not come onto every model I hire, but because I am not one to get caught in a dating scandal, rumors fly in favor of me appearing to be a fuckboy. I do occasionally give in to desire, and I am sure your friend Jeongguk has a story of his own…but it is never my intention to use people up and toss them aside."

"He told me the two of you were hooking up until Seori showed up and you dropped him like a sweet potato."

"So you alluded to, the other night." The edges of Yoongi's lips raise for the splittest of seconds, and then he sighs once more. "That was bad timing, at best. Jeongguk was fun to spend time with, but he was clingy and seemed to want a relationship, which I was not willing to provide."

"Clingy," Hoseok mutters, chuckling at the end of the word. 

"I don't necessarily mean it in a bad way."

Hoseok tongues the inside of his mouth, voice low as he says, "Well, he seems pretty hurt."

"It's not like I dropped Jeongguk abruptly. We spoke about it on several occasions, but I admit, he was a hard one to let go of. We had fun."

With a slow, heavy exhale, Hoseok mutters, "Alright, well…I'm still annoyed with you for ignoring me all night, and all weekend, and... You could have at least clued me in a little."

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Yoongi drops his voice lower, "but Seori was attempting to blackmail me. She thought threats of defamation would put me in her palm, and although I have immaculate legal counsel, the whole thing put me in a sour headspace. You are right that I should have said something to you."

Hoseok hums, taking the information in, unsure what to say. 

"I tell you all of this because I was thinking about the other night, at the sushi restaurant, just before your shoe happened to be tucked tight between my legs. You were asking whether I was kissing and spoiling any other models."

A shiver runs along Hoseok's spine at the memory, and he watches Yoongi's lips as he says, "I'm only spoiling you."

Hoseok wants to believe him. He thinks he really does believe him. But he is still determined to only give so much, and not allow himself to get too swept up in whatever Yoongi is trying to do. 

If Yoongi is so eager to insist they are exclusive, where does the line draw between fucking and dating? It is no wonder Jeongguk seemed to misunderstand their arrangement, and Hoseok worries he will end up in the same position.

"Okay," is all Hoseok says because his heart whooshes so loudly in his ears that it is hard to form a more coherent thought. 

"Seok," Yoongi mutters, formed like a question, "what's on your mind?"

"I want to go upstairs," Hoseok says somewhat robotically, eyes lingering on Yoongi's lips.

He watches as the tip of Yoongi's tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip, and he fights the overwhelming urge to lean forward and suck it between his teeth. 

"Alright," Yoongi says. "Let's go upstairs."

Hoseok forgets he is wearing a seatbelt as he reaches for the handle and attempts to get out of the vehicle, finding himself momentarily trapped and flustered. Once he is finally free, he joins Yoongi on the sidewalk, attempting to be as calm as possible as they make their way through the lobby to the elevator. 

Hoseok remembers Jeongguk saying Yoongi bent him over the couch in his studio, causing his stomach to tie in knots. He is not eager to have a repeated experience that his friend had. 

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to have other plans. He holds his key to the pad in the elevator and hits the number five. Hoseok stares at the round button glowing with a golden ring. 

He wonders how the apartment level differs from the studio level. How does Yoongi furnish his home? What kind of vibe is he into?

As the elevator dings, Hoseok sucks in a breath. He grips onto the straps of his handbag while the doors slide open, and Yoongi walks into the small hallway first, kicking out of his loafers and leaving them near tidy rows of shoes. Hoseok does the same and sets his handbag by his shoes while Yoongi enters the code to the door into the keypad.

For some inexplicable reason, the beeping sounds from the keypad seem louder than usual. Hoseok swallows thickly and licks his lips as Yoongi opens the door, switches on a dim overhead light, and shuffles into his home.

Hoseok is not at all surprised to find that everything is black and grey. The floors, the rugs, the walls, the furniture, are all black, with grey curtains and silver accents that add hints of lightness. 

The entire far wall is a window, allowing a gradient of light to pour in from the setting sun, and hanging from the high ceilings are rectangular light fixtures, from which dim golden light glows, illuminating the space nicely. 

From the marble floors, to the plush rugs and matte-finished woods, the textures are so rich and varied that everything appears to be its own shade of black, especially with the golden glow of the overhead lights. Plush, soft couches make a large u-shape in front of the massive window, and sprawled over black tables and shelves are books, various camera equipment, and file folders.

"Wow, so bright and colorful," Hoseok chides as Yoongi leads him to the right, toward the large open kitchen – the same placement as in the studio downstairs. 

"What can I say, I'm a man of simple tastes," Yoongi drawls over his shoulder. "Water?" he asks, tugging open the door of a massive black refrigerator. "Soju? Whiskey? Beer?"

Yoongi looks over his shoulder, illuminated by the bright white glow of his fridge. He has given Hoseok too many options, and he finds he cannot choose. 

"Water is fine," he mutters when Yoongi impatiently lifts his eyebrows. "Unless you want a little something to take the edge off."

Hoseok feels nervous – why does he feel nervous? His hands fidget in the wide sleeves of his hanbok top, and he finds his gaze wandering around the apartment, unable to stay in one place. Perhaps it is the conversation in the car that has caused the excitement from earlier to shift into nervous energy.

"I don't have an edge to take off," Yoongi responds. "Do you have an edge?" 

This kitchen is not as barren as the one in the studio. Yoongi appears to have every appliance known to man, all neatly in place along countertops and storage shelves. This place actually appears lived in and cared for, and Hoseok finds the enveloping darkness surprisingly calming. 

"No," he lies, realizing he had been stuck in his head. "No edge."

Yoongi chuckles and closes the fridge empty-handed, then he moves to the right, to where cabinets sit tall above a large sink, and he produces two shot glasses and a large glass. As he turns on the sink and switches on a filter that is attached to the faucet, he glances over his shoulder and nods to a nearby cabinet, saying, "You seem to have a slight edge. Pick your poison and we'll do a shot to loosen up."

To the right of the sink, above the countertop, is a cabinet with a glass window showcasing several bottles of whiskey. Hoseok finds a Japanese one with an inviting white and black label and pulls it out while Yoongi shuts off the sink and sets down a tall glass of water. 

"Nice pick," Yoongi says as he reaches for the bottle, uncorks the top, and pours two shots. 

Hoseok inches nice and close – close enough to smell the cologne Yoongi wears – and reaches for one of the shots. They clink the glasses together softly and shoot the liquid back, and although it is rich and smooth, the strength makes Hoseok wince, which in turn makes Yoongi chuckle.  

"It's good," Hoseok insists, feeling somewhat embarrassed despite having no reason to be. "Just strong."

"One more?" Yoongi asks, leaning close. "Or is your edge softened?"

"One more," Hoseok responds, tipping his chin upward in a challenge. "I wanna taste it on your tongue."

Yoongi snickers then pours two more shots, which they quickly drink back, and this time, Hoseok does not react as strongly to the earthy, semi-sweet flavor. This time, he picks up hints of caramel and enjoys the way it settles over him like a warm hug. 

Ordinarily, two shots are hardly enough to make Hoseok feel anything but warm and energized. But he only ate breakfast today, a realization that makes him feel somewhat foolish, all things considered, and the whiskey has a bit of an effect on him.

Hoseok feels light around the edges. Fuzzy tendrils of frenetic energy erupt from him like tiny solar flares ignited by Japanese whiskey and Yoongi's proximity. He places his hands against Yoongi's hips and turns him until his ass is against the counter, then he slides his hands to rest against the countertop, caging Yoongi in like he had in his office. 

"Kiss me," he whispers, elated as Yoongi obeys immediately, leaning close to lick over Hoseok's lips and then part his own.

Hoseok sucks Yoongi's bottom lip into his mouth, smiling as he whimpers. He licks over Yoongi's tongue, tasting remnants of heady caramel and something far sweeter and more personal. As if driven mad by the flavor, leans his body against Yoongi's to rut his hips forward. 

"Bed," Yoongi mutters against Hoseok, to which Hoseok nods without disconnecting their lips. He is not ready to stop tasting Yoongi just yet. He wants to commit the flavor to memory. 

Yoongi's hands find Hoseok's hips and grip tightly, working to both spur him on and calm him down. Hoseok parts the kiss with a heavy sigh and nods once more, resting his forehead against Yoongi's and allowing himself to return to earth. 

Then he reaches for the cold glass of tap water and takes a long, slow gulp, hips still pressed against Yoongi with a slight twist to them. He drinks half of the glass down then holds it for Yoongi to have, and takes a step back to give both of them a little space. 

Yoongi drinks then sets the glass aside, takes Hoseok's hand, and leads him through the apartment, past the large glass wall through which the sun sets into an inviting greyish blue with pink hues. The door straight ahead is open – the same place the door to Yoongi's studio can be found on the floor below – and Yoongi walks in and flips a switch that invites a soft purple glow.

Similar to the rest of the house, everything is shades of black, save for the bedding, curtains, and rugs which are forest green. Two of the walls are made of glass, allowing the light from the setting sun to pour in through sheer dark green curtains, and there is dark furniture throughout, but Hoseok's attention is on the bed – a wide mattress on a low black platform that is lifted inches from the floor, under which a purple light glows. 

"You can change the color if you'd like," Yoongi offers, speaking directly into Hoseok's ear and fanning warm breath against his cheek. 

Hoseok tugs Yoongi's hand toward the bed and says, "I bet purple would look nice against your skin," as they stop and face each other. 

Hoseok begins to yank open Yoongi's white blazer, which absorbs the light into a pretty lilac shade, and Yoongi chuckles and takes over, very delicately removing the item and handing it to Hoseok. 

"Leave it there," he instructs with a nod of his chin, and Hoseok turns to find a small armchair nearby, to the right of the bed, over which a black blazer rests. He drapes the new blazer beside the other and turns back to find Yoongi unbuttoning and untucking his white dress shirt. 

With each inch of skin that Yoongi reveals, Hoseok feels his heart begin to race. He shrugs quickly from his hanbok top, tossing it in a heap onto the armchair, then yanks his tank top over his head and chucks it aside.

When his fingers reach the button of his shorts, Yoongi's large, knobby fingers stop his movements, pulling his hands away. Hoseok looks up from his interrupted task to find Yoongi shirtless and sinking to his knees. 

"Let me do it," he insists.

Hoseok nods and swallows thickly, watching as Yoongi's knees are engulfed by a soft, dark green shag rug. Yoongi rubs his hands up Hoseok's thighs, causing a warmth to simmer in the pit of his tummy, and he breathes deep and slow, doing his best to maintain his composure. 

As Yoongi yanks at Hoseok's shorts, pulling them past his knees, he sits high and wafts his breath against his black briefs, warm then cool on his growing erection. With his gaze directed at Hoseok's eyes, Yoongi nudges his nose and lips against him, taking deep breaths as if savoring his musk, and Hoseok reaches one hand to grip Yoongi's product-slick hair and give his head a rough tug. 

Yoongi whimpers, and the sight of him on his knees, submissive and making such pretty sounds kicks Hoseok's need to tame him into overdrive. Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's waistband, but Hoseok shakes his head and says, "Hands at your sides."

With a gasp, Yoongi's eyes widen – pretty and endless depths of inviting brown. Hoseok tongues the inside of his cheek and grips Yoongi's hair a little rougher. 

"You have to earn it."

"Earn it?" Yoongi responds almost sardonically, and Hoseok yanks at his head just enough to make him whimper and sigh. 

"You heard me. Earn it."

"Please?" Yoongi tries, batting his long, dark lashes like a pretty little doll. 

"Please, what?"

"Please let me taste you."

"Only good boys get to suck my cock, pretty Yoongi," Hoseok responds in a mocking tone. Yoongi's pupils react to his words, and Hoseok snickers. "Are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi practically moans. "I'll be a good boy for you."

"Not just tonight," Hoseok says, tipping his head to the side and peering down at Yoongi with squinted eyes. "You're going to be good to me for as long as we do whatever it is that we are doing. No more miscommunications. No more half-truths."

"I'll be good for you," Yoongi insists, eyes wide and pleading. 

"You're still my boss, so we will have to navigate that dynamic one day at a time," Hoseok continues, reaching his other hand to drag his thumb along Yoongi's bottom lip the way Yoongi did to him in his office. "As long as we are not at work, we are equals, and you will treat me as such."

"Yes, Seok," Yoongi mutters. 

Hoseok gives his hair a tug and grits, "Louder," through his teeth.

"I'll be good to you, Seok," Yoongi's voice switches from coy desperation to firm insistence, deepening as he says, "Please let me be so good to you."

Hoseok's head spins. He nods and releases Yoongi's hair, then drops his arms to his sides and says, "One thing I like about you is your quick wit and sharp tongue…and I'm sure that is not the extent of what that pretty mouth can do."

Yoongi grins, then lifts his hands to paw over Hoseok's cock and grab for his waistband. Arousal soars through Hoseok – lava in his veins – and he does his best to keep his composure, whimpering softly while he holds firm eye contact with Yoongi.

That is, until he pulls Hoseok's briefs down, and Yoongi's gaze falls to his freed cock. His eyes widen, and he licks his lips as he sits high on his knees and shuffles a little closer. With slow strokes, Yoongi makes Hoseok dizzy, dragging against his foreskin before pushing it down, revealing a flushed head and length. 

With a delicate flick of his bubblegum tongue, Yoongi laps up the precum that drips from Hoseok's tip, sending a shiver down his spine. Yoongi drags his lips over the tip and crown, gaze intently returning to Hoseok, teasing with feather-light touches. 

Hoseok smirks down at the man – eager to knock him off his pedestal a little – and asks, "How many other pretty models have you dropped to your knees so easily for?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, burning with something Hoseok struggles to discern, and a scoff comes from between his lips. He seems incensed but so terribly aroused. Hoseok grins. 

"That's what I thought," Hoseok grumbles bending as he grips Yoongi by the chin and tugs enough to make him sit even higher. He feels powerful and possessive. "This is all for me. Now, open." 

As soon as Yoongi's lips part, Hoseok spits into his mouth. Yoongi's eyes widen further, and he keeps his mouth open as if he is waiting for instruction. His submissive side has Hoseok simmering with desire. 

"You're so perfect, Yoongi," Hoseok praises just above a whisper. "So fucking perfect. Now put those pretty lips to good use."

Yoongi nods once – a shallow, quick movement – then wastes no time taking Hoseok's length deep into his throat. Hoseok feels Yoongi swallow and possibly begin to gag, but he is slow with the way he pulls back and sinks down, sucking with his lips tight around the tip each time, eliciting bursting waves of pleasure. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, reaching to grip his hair with his right hand. He cannot believe this is finally happening. "Your mouth feels amazing."

Yoongi hums and moans, increasing his speed but never seeming rushed, and Hoseok's head spins as his arousal builds and builds. It has been far too fucking long since he has had someone so pretty down on their knees, and the sight alone of Yoongi's doll lips wrapped around him while tears pool around his delicate, long eyelashes builds his pleasure too fast. 

"I won't last long," he whimpers. "Feels too good."

As if spurred on to push Hoseok over the edge, Yoongi swallows his cock deeper, holding it lodged in his throat until his face begins to redden and his eyes bulge. The sensation is exquisite, especially as Yoongi pulls back, mouth full of thick saliva, making the slide smooth as silk. 

And again, Yoongi sinks down as deep as he can and holds Hoseok there, gaze trained upward despite the way his eyelashes flicker. Hoseok reaches with his free hand and gives Yoongi's cheek a delicate slap, then lower to cradle Yoongi's throat and feel himself buried deep from the outside. 

"Holy fuck," he babbles, nodding. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, Yoongi. Such a good boy, perfect, perfect."

This time, when Yoongi pulls back, saliva pours from between his lips, and he uses both hands to stroke along Hoseok's length while he bobs his tightened lips just past the head, laving with his tongue. 

Hoseok is overstimulated in a way he has never experienced from a blowjob, and his resolve crumbles in an instant. 

"Gonna cum, fuck," Hoseok warns. "Can I cum in your mouth?"

Yoongi heavy-blinks and attempts to nod, lips and hands still working Hoseok over. Hoseok's entire body feels hot – set alight, threatening to combust. 

"Fuck, fuck," Hoseok whimpers, trembling from pleasure that teeters just on the edge of insanity. 

Yoongi stills his head, holding his mouth open and tongue flat while stroking Hoseok with both hands. The tip of his cock drags along Yoongi's pretty tongue, and with one more measured stroke, Hoseok releases, moaning and gasping, practically folding in half as his cum spurts in long ropes, painting Yoongi white. 

Although the strokes slow, they do not stop. Yoongi's large, soft hands milk him of every last drop until Hoseok is gripping Yoongi's shoulders and he is begging him to have mercy. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," he gasps, lowering to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up.

Yoongi's tongue continues to lay flat, cum and drool dripping down his chin, and Hoseok sits high and spits once more into his mouth before commanding him to, "Swallow."

Hoseok watches intently as Yoongi closes his lips and swallows his cum, then his hands are on him, lazily gripping at his throat and neck. He feels drunk with power and desire – feels ready to allow the blaze inside him to swallow both of them whole. 

"On the bed," Hoseok commands.

Yoongi's face is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, his once-style hair is fucked up and sticking out on the sides, and his lips are pretty kiss-swollen petals. He breathes slow and deep as he nods, eyelashes fluttering as if he too is coming down from a high. 

Rather than stand, Yoongi turns haphazardly on his knees, gets onto his hands, and crawls. His white trouser shorts hug his plump round ass, swaying with each movement like a beacon of pleasure, and Hoseok crawls behind him, eyes never leaving his prize until they must – until Yoongi climbs up the platform bed and turns, sitting with his feet planted on the floor. 

Hoseok crawls to Yoongi's shins, then sits high on his knees and uses his palms to spread his thighs. He licks his lips and reaches for Yoongi's button and zipper, but Yoongi grips Hoseok by the wrists and yanks. 

"Come here, Seok."

Nodding, still feeling somewhat delirious, Hoseok gets up onto his feet just enough to crash down onto the low bed, caging Yoongi's legs as the man chuckles and crawls backward to the center of the mattress.

"I have an idea," Yoongi promises, rotating to scoot until his shoulders are against the dark headboard. He pats his legs and says, "Come here," while he hastily shoves his shorts and briefs down, and his voice is rougher than usual, no doubt from deepthroating.

For the first time since all of this has started, Hoseok gets a good look at Yoongi. His complexion is soft and supple against the dark bedding, and his body is a gorgeous blend of thin and muscular – similar to Hoseok, yet different. His shoulders are wide, his hands are large, yet he is knobby and slightly lanky, small against the large bed. Breathtaking.

The hair at the base of Yoongi's hard, leaking cock is trimmed low – an inviting patch of black against lilac-tinted skin. Hoseok leans close to kiss along Yoongi's hip and breathes in his musky-sweet scent, but before he can tease, Yoongi has both hands on Hoseok's cheeks and jaw, tugging him upward.

Hoseok lifts and wiggles beside Yoongi, who has slithered down into a lying position. "Kiss me," he groans, still pulling Hoseok by the face, forcing him to crash down against him, licking against his lips. 

As Hoseok settles onto his side, Yoongi drapes a leg around Hoseok's hips and rolls their bodies together. Already, Hoseok's cock is becoming erect, and with each roll of Yoongi's hips, he feels hypnotized. 

"Fuck, Yoongi," Hoseok groans, sinking low against Yoongi's chest to leave marks with his lips and teeth that will be hidden under clothing tomorrow. "You don't know what you do to me."

Yoongi lifts his hand to Hoseok's lips and rasps, "Spit," and Hoseok obeys, gathering saliva under his tongue only to trickle it into his palm. Then Yoongi reaches between them, engulfs both cocks in his warm grip, and thrusts. 

"Oh, shit," Hoseok whimpers in tandem with a deep, needy groan from Yoongi. 

Hoseok spits hastily into his own hand and reaches to engulf them further, then he sets a rhythm with his hips, pushing when Yoongi pulls and pulling when Yoongi pushes. Pleasure grips Hoseok tight, threatening to drag him into the hot, inviting depths of hell, and Hoseok whimpers as he leans into Yoongi, sucking his lips between his teeth. 

The kiss is a sloppy gnash of teeth and tongues with nobody in control. Yoongi seems to be losing his composure quickly, and the more he moans and trembles against Hoseok, the more persistently Hoseok strokes their dicks. 

Their rhythm is hypnotizing – a dance between two bodies so fluid and perfect, Hoseok has a lingering thought that perhaps the two of them were meant for each other. Their connection feels so intense, it scares the shit out of him.

"Seok," Yoongi whimpers, lower lip caught in Hoseok's teeth. "Close. So close. "Gonna—"

"In my mouth," Hoseok insists, releasing his hold on their cocks and haphazardly sliding down the length of Yoongi's body.

He is quick to sink Yoongi deep into his throat, wasting no time sucking as if his life depends on it. Yoongi stays on his side and grips onto Hoseok's hair, hips trusting, never losing their dizzying rhythm. 

Hoseok can feel Yoongi pulsate against his lips and he swallows him deep, moaning and humming around him until Yoongi's hips tremble and he shoots his load straight into Hoseok's throat. Yoongi's voice is pitchy and broken, his body quakes with bliss, and Hoseok breathes through his nose, doing his best to swallow each drop without his gag reflex interfering.

Suddenly exhausted, Hoseok releases Yoongi's spent cock, gasping for air. It is messy the way Yoongi attempts to pull Hoseok's lips back to his, body bent in half while Hoseok stretches and strains until he finally finds the strength to crawl up to him and kiss him properly. 

"Seok," Yoongi gasps against his lips, eyes wide and filling Hoseok's vision. "You're incredible. Nobody…" he pants, "nobody has ever made me feel this way."

Honeyed words taste bitter against Hoseok's tongue as he considers all the different times Yoongi must have used that line before. How many models did he sink his claws into similarly, only to drop without a care in the world? What is worse is that Hoseok almost believes him.

Yoongi holds Hoseok in place against him, lips lazily dragging, eager to kiss despite losing the strength to move. Hoseok's mouth moves on instinct alone, erection long forgotten to the brewing storm inside his head.

"Nap," Yoongi grumbles, body falling limp and relaxed around him. "Then food."

"Okay," Hoseok whispers as he reaches for the soft comforter on which they lay, folding it over them rather than bothering to attempt to crawl beneath it. 

Yoongi smiles, drifting to sleep, and Hoseok leaves soft pecks against the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheek, eager to kiss and kiss and kiss. He wants to commit this moment to memory in the event that this is the last time. 

As Yoongi's body becomes heavy as lead, lost to the firm grasp of sleep, Hoseok waits for him to lightly begin to snore. He waits, laying on his side and tracing each shape of Yoongi's beautiful face, shoulders, and chest with his eyes. 

He waits and he waits until Yoongi rolls onto his back, limbs slipping away from Hoseok's nude body. And then he waits just a beat longer before he slowly, silently slips out from beneath the comforter, collects his clothing, and tiptoes into the living room. 

It is still early in the night, and Hoseok stares out the window at the city below the hill, at the river in the distance, at the cars that drive by. He slips into his clothing, tiptoes to the front door, gathers his handbag and shoes, and, in the elevator, calls for a cab.

Over and over, Yoongi's voice plays in Hoseok's head. Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Over and over, his pretty, tearful eyes and soft, kissable lips sear into Hoseok's mind, taking up permanent residence, threatening to drive him mad. Hoseok stares at his reflection in the elevator doors, unsure how he is supposed to feel. 

He got it out of his system. He successfully fucked with the pretty man with the reputation for using people, and he slipped away in the night, giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

But he does not feel satisfied. It is as if vines have snaked their way into his chest cavity and they squeeze, threatening to puncture his lungs with their thorns and steal his air. 

He feels defeated. Deflated. He has accomplished his goal, yet he does not feel victorious. 

Nobody has ever made me feel this way. 

Those pretty words spoken in that raspy voice taunt him over and over, and Hoseok walks out into the chill night feeling emptier than before.  

one more chapter left!!! and don't worry, these two idiots will have a happy ending, okay. i just have to drag you through the angst mud a little more because it's funnnn. 😍😍😍 apparently i can only focus on one bestie at a time, so i will do my best to bring Taehyung into the spotlight in chapter 4!

also i feel like it is silly to have described Yoongi living in an all black and grey space with my whole entire chest, but this is what i had in mind:

MORE COMING SOON!!! COMMENTS & REBLOGS WILL MAKE ME WANT TO WORK ON IT FASTER! LIKES ARE ALWAYS SO SO APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

tag list: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @fluffybuns69 @giriiboyy @idkjustlovingbts @itsmina29 @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸 want to be added to this tag list for part 4? or the list for all of my member x member fics?? or everything i post??? or maybe this fic isn’t for you and you want to be removed???? comment or dm! i will make your dreams a reality.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Showstopper is copyright theharrowing 2022 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[sunshininghobi]

of sunsets and soft hands

sope au ❊ 6.1k, rated t ❊ angst!!, rekindling feelings, getting back together, happy ending

Hoseok is very afraid of flying. So when he has to get on a flight for a business trip, it’s no surprise when he freaks out and grabs the hand of the person sitting next to him. And it wouldn’t have been that bad, if the person whose hand he grabbed wasn’t Min Yoongi, his ex.

archiveofourown.org/works/32505127

[hobicakess]

14 with sope 🤓. glad your back<3

thank you baby <3

send a number and a member ⭐

cw: fingering & oral ( f receiving ) , mention of trafficking and killing, shitty kidnapping attempt, meanie Hobi, age gap ( 20.28.30 )

Her father was a wealthy man with a good name, big company, and a lot of connections; he had and earned the respect of many and he made sure she stayed drowned in riches. She never really questioned her fathers work, but she knew exactly what he was doing when he came back home with bruised knuckles which she dressed without a word. He allowed the 20 year old to come and go as she pleased as long as she was home before 2 am although she wanted to stay on campus she and her father had an understanding relationship.

On a Monday morning she decided to walk to campus since she couldn't find her car keys. While walking she noticed two men following her to make sure she wasn't just paranoid she stopped at a coffee shop and still they followed her in until she walked out again. Internally panicking she pulled her phone out and called her father and he told her to just keep on walking and he'd be there in 2 minutes.

Still leading the men in circles timidly checking behind her she noticed they were not there anymore panicking again she looked around and around until a van pulled up and attempted to grab her up. Biting the wannabe captor in the process. He let her go yelping as she ran aimlessly till she saw her father collapsing into her father's chest face wet with tears.

From that day on he decided it was time to become more strict. He limited her curfew, she now took online classes, and he made sure she wasn’t alone anywhere without her bodyguards Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi

Hoseok didn’t say much; he just grunted and groaned, while he glared at her; snatching her up when she tripped or stumbled, Calling her a clumsy brat but still checking her body for wounds. Tired of being defenseless She begged Hoseok to teach her self defense after seeing him flip a man 10x his size on his back for harassing you at a club.

He gave in but Hoseok wasn’t the ideal teacher. He constantly knocked her down on her ass over and over until eventually her eyes started watering from the fact that she didn’t stand a chance against whoever tried to harass her again. Her internal struggles didn’t help that on top of it was Hoseok Harsh words.

“your lazy foot works going to get you killed and stuffed in a suitcase”

“Do you want to be sold in a trafficking ring? tch like anyone spends money on you. such a spoiled bra-''

She was in tears on the gym floor. Realizing he pushed a little too hard he tried to comfort her before Min Yoongi came rushing in.

"Damn hope you're too harsh on the princess” he immediately scooped up in his arms. Burying her sobs into his shoulder.

Min Yoongi was the exact opposite of Jung Hoseok. He wasn't mean and pissy with her. Feeding into her bratty attitude, practically enabling it. Though he does pinch her thighs when she gets too out of hand, throwing a simple look her way leaving her pouty and skipping over to Hoseok it didn't take long for you to come back.

Hoseok obviously didn't have a good way with words. His love was tough and rough around the edges but when you crack those edges there was a soft and gooey side of him. Even if Y/N did crack him a bit he was more of an act of service kind of man. Yoongi knew this from years of working beside him...

“Hobi wants to say sorry baby.” Yoongi whispered as he cupped her cheeks to turn it towards said man as he trailed kisses down her neck and forehead fingers gripping her thighs pressing them to her chest, holding them wide open for Hobi's to slot between them. The younger man pulled her panties to the side with the quickness.

Watching him attach his mouth to her clit sucking as his fingers circled her hole she whined, head falling back. Sounds of Hobi and his lewd slurping along with the gushing of his veiny fingers invading her soaking walls. Loud sounds leaving her lips as she bucked her hips onto his face.

"Do you forgive Hobi for being so mean,hmm?" The oldest of the two asked, gripping her legs tighter as she squirmed. "Yes yes yes."

[hollyhomburg]

The Vampire King

(Polyamory au) (Supernatural au) (Drabble!) 

Summary: Vampire hobi never imagined himself a king, but after circumstances allow himself to take a human queen for a wife wife, he finds there’s a lot of love left in his cold dead heart.

Tags: Bullet fic, supernatural au, halloween surprise gift, Smut, Double penetration, Knotting, Vampire! hobi, Human! m/c, Knight! seokjin, Dragon! namjoon, Werewolf! jungkook, Succubus! jimin, Mage! Taehyung, Vampire! yoongi, Tentacles, oviposition, sex-magic, blood-lust, fear kink, edgeing, overstimulation, Ace! hobi, Dom! hobi

W/c: 2.8k (it’s a drabble okay 🥰) 

A/N: happy halloween! here is a little surprise! i wrote this in like an hour lol so it’s heavily unedited but i hope you enjoy it! please remember to leave me a like and a comment if theres something in here you enjoyed!

- Vampire hobi has never fancied himself much of a ruler, but still- he ends up as the king of some nation after his long running best friend dies- having been king) and hobi- having been his 'long lost bastard son' or something, unwilingly inherits the throne. 

- Hobi is old- older than many many magical beasts and things that go bump in the night. he’s old enough to think- hey i've never been a king before, might be fun, i could like it. (The truth is he’s dreadfully bored, dreadfully tired of the vampire council and his own kind). 

- for a while he even likes to plan the balls! humans did always burn bright and burn quick, but they’ve always created the most fantastic creations too. their music puts even the sound of fairy song to shame. 

- only...why are his advisors trying to get him to marry a human? isn't that a little antiquated? To fuck only one person and only one gender at that? He's convinced, because really, how long will he even be king anyway? He can only probably last another 20 or so years before they'll start to get suspicious of his inhumanly good looks and he’ll need to fake his own death to evade suspicions (humans might be interesting but they’re not the smartest bunch).

- only then, he meets the m/c, the princess of a rival nation who has the sweetest blood he's ever smelled. he’s winded in the throne room when he sees her, smells her, nostrils flaring, sure that his eyes must be flashing red. only- why is her heart beating faster when she sees him? how can such a beautiful creature love an old cold bag of bones like him? 

- Her blood sings to him at all hours of the day, through every touch of their courtship, when he gifts her blood red roses, when he whispers sweet nothings that don’t mean nothing to her, calling to him almost as much as the delicate human it's attached too. he can’t say he’s ever met someone so, new before. so fresh and happy, it makes him smile in a way he’s forgotten he could. 

- He can at least restrain himself until their wedding night. Only then does he allow himself to have a taste of her blood, explaining to her who- and more importantly what he is. what she’s bound herself too. 

- The m/c is surprisingly cool with the whole being married to a vampire thing. she quickly develops a taste for not only being in love with hobi but also helping him feed more discreetly. Why would he ever need another feeding partner when he has her? She might even get mad at one point when he tries to hunt someone else because it’s her husbands needs she’s tending too after all. 

- She loves to cuddle up in Hobi's lap while he’s sat on the thrown, kissing and pecking up her neck until they're alone and hobi can sink his teeth into her delicate throat. Being bitten by a vampire is kinda nice, the whole venom rush and all kinda feels like a drug, a feeling like liquid gold rushing through her veins. 

- Sometimes she lets hobi sleepily teeth there when she sleeps and he dozes,  vampires only need to truly sleep once a month, but he’s more than happy to just lie down beside her and close his eyes, often with his fangs softly buried in her neck. A vampire bite doesn’t hurt unless the vampire wishes it, and hobi would never hurt her. 

- There’s only one problem with their whole relationship. most vampires sexual desires wane over time, not all- but most. Hobi has fucked and been fucked in just about every single position way and hour of the day that a person can even be fucked. it’s not that he doesn’t love the m/c it’s just that...he can’t feel any lust other than bloodlust anymore. 

- And it doesn’t help that Hobi’s venom also makes the m/c extremely extremely horny too.

- That doesn't mean he's not well invested in seeing the queen fucked. in-fact, he loves to watch her loose her careful veil of coquettish composure, loves to watch her overstimulated and squirting, all over the floor of their lavish bedchambers. would never get tired of licking the slick from her lovers fingers. Just because he prefers to watch and not participate doesn't make his love for her any less real, doesn’t make the aftercare he gives her after her scenes any less lingering and caring. 

- King hobi has quite the vetting process for the queens concubines only the best lovers and cocks make it into the queens inner circle. maybe rumors start, that the king has promised a lavish life to anyone who would be the bedmate of the queen.

- There’s prince Namjoon, second in line to the dragon throne (not that anyone would ever know, he keeps his dragon form quietly leashed most of the time). both of his cocks fuck the queen well enough to have her begging for hobi to make namjoon a permanent fixture in their lives, even if his double knots are a little bit harder to hide and fit in her little cunt, hobi orders namjoon to try, making her take it until she’s crying. 

- The queen just about screams the first time her little pussy and ass are filled at the same time. cumming to the sound of hobi’s merciless laugh because “you’re cute when you cum hard my sweet” it’s all a game to him, a game that she and namjoon are more than willing to play every evening, during the day too sometimes. although they press their luck- having her attend meetings and afternoon tea time with lords and ladies with her cunt all stretched and fucked- dripping namjoon’s copius amounts of cum because dragons are known for ridiculous stamina. 

- The dragon princess endless firey stamina is almost enough to sate her permanently. Almost- but even namjoon cant contend with bloodlust in a human body, even he whimpers out “wanna knot, please my king” after the 3 hour he’s spent mounting her. 

- please imagine hobi quietly sipping wine from a velvet chair, sighing and saying “if you must” flippantly as her holes are stretched to capacity. It’s Nothing that a few hours of coddling can’t change, soothing the dragons tears.  “my little fire” he’d croon, whipping back namjoon’s bangs, “it’s not your fault our little queens a bit of a slut” both of them contending with a pouty “hey!” from the m/c pressed between them.

- the m/c loves to sleep like that fire at her back, and the cold body of her undead husband at her front. only...her bed is terribly large, surely theres room for one more? 

- then there’s knight Seokjin, who might be the only human in hobi’s bunch but isn’t anyone to dismiss, his prowess in the sack and on the battlefield is something legendary and well known among the kingdom. he’s quickly appointed as the queens royal guard. 

- His levels of oral prowess certainly never leave anything to be desired either. At dinnertime, Hobi often asks him nicely to get on his knees for the queen often because his baby deserves to be spoiled (and it’s not like Seokjin never cums while eating her out, apparently her pussy is just as delectable as her blood).

- they play this game where during dinnertime jin kneels on a pretty little velvet cushion, and as long as the m/c keeps her face schooled into a mask of propriety he’s allowed to continue, but jin makes it offally difficult when he puts his plush lips around her clit and sucks. and all of a sudden hobi’s calling jin’s name and he’s pulling himself out from under her skirts, looking dazed, his lips slick soaked. 

- sex is always a game to hoseok, he always loves to give her little tasks to tease her, don’t cum even after both namjoon and jin have cum in you, keep their cum warm and snug inside of you my queen, we can’t have the whole castle knowing who you like filling you up, would they all ask me for a chance to fuck you? if they knew how sweet you sounded when you’re being ruined?

- and it’s even better if jin gets on his knees for her while hobi’s having his meal as well, the way she whimpers and falls apart, her pleasure so so sweet in her veins has hobi often reaching down to pull seokjin up for messy messy kisses. (kisses aren’t the same as sex, hobi will always love getting kisses even if sex has lost it’s interest). 

- sometimes, when the m/c is extra extra tired and if hobi’s taken a bit too much blood from her the night before. hobi will pull jin into their bed (the knight might prefer to take the evenings in the dragon princes quarters frequently, it’s nothing against hobi or her it’s just that sleeping next to a chilled block of vampire isn’t the most comfortable) 

- hobi loves jin’s blood too, almost as much as the m/c’s, the bloodlust affects him too- enough that it causes the knight to rut against hobi’s legs, which is fine 🥰 hobi doesn’t mind it even if he never feels wanting stiring in his own belly. 

- then they’res succubus jimin, who appears in the queens quarters by complete accident, as only ‘a true act of lust could summon a succubus’ (this true act of lust might just happen to be an orgy planned by the king for the queens birthday). 

- Jimin is not only the m/cs cutest companion (succubi where designed by the devil himself to be cute, but jimin still blushes when hobi calls him that). jimin’s a lovely little bedwarmer for her on the nights that hobi simply can’t be tempted for sleep,

- But he also makes her laugh and so so happy, hobi loves to watch them from the shadows as they lounge in sunlight. jimin might also have the prettiest prettiest cock in the land, but thats a secret that you keep. the prettiest thickest little cock that the m/c loves to bounce on- that maybe even the king likes to drink from (succubi find all acts of lust pleasurable, even acts of bloodlust), he murmurs in her ears, dark magic that makes her pleasure thicker, makes her soul belong to jimin in ways it can’t belong to the others. 

- and then theres mage taehyung, who charms himself not only to have a cock, but maybe a few tentacles as well, One- two- three- four as many as she wants to fill her up. he might also make her some aphrodisiac potions, might make the king some too when he asks to just have one night, one night where he understands the wanting that the other have again. it’s not enough to set him truly back into human wanting, and yet, it’s more than enough to have their bonds all reaffirmed. 

- Mage taehyung has a lovely habit with the spells, has a mind thats almost as creative as hobi’s when it comes to figuring out new sexual deviances to torture the m/c, the edging potion in taehyung favorite, the one that makes it impossible for the drinker to cum no matter how many times their clit is spanked or how many cocks they take in their cunt or hole (mages do often take succubi for familiars, and once jimin and his bond is made, there’s no breaking it. succubi blood is a very very potent potion additive too!) 

- maybe one time, during a demon summoning gone wrong, tae doesn’t just summon the tentacles, but gets possessed by the leviathan too. he ends up breeding the m/c in their form, fucking her full of demon eggs that thankfully another spell helps vanish. the coven finds her like that, fucked dumb on the floor a tenticals holding her up and fucking her down on three, tae’s eyes rolled back speaking some demon tongue.

- “the demon king wants her hyung” jimin sniffles, once he’s managed to kick the demon out of tae’s body. “don’t want him to have her, she’s /ours/” “i won’t let anything happen to her, or any of you” hobi promises, but it does nothing to comfort the little succubus “then why haven’t you turned her yet? anything could happen to her or jinnie and they’d just be gone” 

-  Hobi’s coven does enjoy teaseing her by how eager she’d been to take the monsters eggs, they have their fun and forget the fear “maybe i should open our doors for every little beasty and beauty that comes our way my sweet” hobi threatens, hand warming over the m/c’s swollen stomach. Feeling her shiver in fear and delight.  

- the vampire werewolf wars are long over, there isn’t enough bad blood between their races for him not to allow the sweetest pup from the stables, alpha jungkook- to show his prowess in the bedroom. There isn’t a sight king hobi likes more than watching the m/c dig the heal into jungkook’s knot while the alpha whimpers from her feet, his hands carefully folded behind his back the picture of absolute obedience. All for the chance to knot and breed her.

- maybe hobi’s eyes warm at that- because he’s long since given up having children with the m/c after none- not even Seokjin’s seed managed to take. they are very very in love and desire to have a family even if their relationship isn’t the most conventions. 

- Hobi might have a particular fondness for when jungkook’s ruts sync up with the full moon and he has to fuck her in his monstrous form too 🥰 after that she might be able to take both of Joonies knots at the same time.  

- Now, king hobi has never ever been convinced by one magical species to enter the queens coven of pretty little concubines. Hobi would never ever dream of allowing another vampire to fuck the m/c- in the fear that maybe they’d be convinced to suck her blood, and her blood belongs only to the king. 

- But then one of his old friends comes to visit, vampire Yoongi, who is the first fledgeling that Hoseok ever sired. Although time and more than one broken heart separated them they great each other as more than family and more than lovers. 

- hobi gets to watch her walk with the vampire, feeling his own long cold heart warming as he gets to see her laugh and throw herself into the others arms, fangs flashing in the light. And hobi really can’t contain his heart can he? he’s too fond of the both of them, cant resist giving his fledgling and his sweet sweet little human wife what they both want. 

- maybe hobi discovers that he likes feeling yoongi gulping, likes to hear the stutter of her heart as he feeds on the other side of her throat. 

- hobi ends up taking a new fledgeling half a decade later, only because he couldn’t bear to be parted from either of them in death. Maybe yoongi helps him too- having never sired another vampire to be his own fledgeling, maybe they both bite on either side of her neck to turn her at the same time. 

- hobi laments the loss of her sweet sweet human blood (because vampire blood just doesn’t taste the same although they’ll still feed from each other often, especially as her sire, they’ll both need to stay close through nearly 10 years of blood cravings. 

- hobi can’t wait to nurse his needy little fledgling, and yoongi’s going to do so well- hobi already knows they’ll both have the cutest cutest nest- and if the other vampire wants to lean into his nesting instincts for the first time in nearly a thousand years then hobi won’t complain. 

- (if you’re wondering what happens to jin, he and jungkook happen to mate, although it’s a little non-traditional for the omega to be older than their alpha- jungkook very very good at guiding jin through his werewolf puberty) 

- He fakes his own passing as the king, and the throne passes to one of his long lost relatives. and hobi and his little coven of demons and witches and vampires flees to a castle in the countryside. where they’re all left to fuck and fight and feed from each other for eternity. 

- Hobi’s coven might not be the most conventional of covens, but it’s one he made himself with the kind of love that last centuries <3 

Please like, Comment, and Reblog! If you don’t interact with this, I have no way of knowing you enjoyed it or want more au’s like this! 

Donate ~ Twitter

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 In Darkness I Found You 🔞

I’ve been debating for a long time whether or not to repost this from AO3. This is my biggest “hit” & I have a love/hate relationship with this fic. It took me almost 3.5 yrs to complete including rewriting the last 3rd of it because 2019 Author Emily chickened out where 2023 Author Emily went for the throat. I also haven’t reposted any of my BTS work & I thought it was time. The main pairing is SOPE with a side of Namjin & Taekook. Yes, I was a cliche. Also I want to post some bonus content for this fic for JFW so I need to, like, post the fic itself.

It’s Omegaverse & includes Mpreg, so if that’s something you’re not comfortable with then skip this one. I’ll tag all the relevant info at the beginning of each chapter. Here’s your chapter index:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

[jemshopes]

Tell Me Without Telling Me || Ace Sope

--Ace Sope

--slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst (lots of angst), found family, panic attacks, anxiety, etc.

In which Hoseok is touch starved, isolated, and alone at university, and doesn't know enough to realise his disinterest in sex might mean something more than not having found the right person to do it with.

READ ON:

WATTPAD [the first draft of the story]

AO3 [the rewrite, currently in progress]

[helpmeimblorboing]

Okay but imagine Jasico post-ToA ??? Specifically imagine Nico singing the Song of Patroclus by Sope at Jason's grave ??

The Song of Achilles vibes ?? The angst ??

"My soul, my shadow Loose me like an arrow And I will split the sky in two for you Loving you is The gentlest of pains Weren't we taught to count losses as gains?", is clearly Jason singing to Nico pre-death

"My blazing glory We’re my favourite story I’ll tell it till the end of time Loving you is The gentlest of pains Weren't we taught to count losses as gains?", is Nico singing to Jason pre-death

Everything else is Nico grieving at Jason's grave

[rainbowsuitcase]

BTS Hurt/Comfort Fest

A fest which recently finished, full of lovely Hurt/Comfort fics. Find all works here and I've allowed myself to pull out some of my favorites.

Vines & Valentines by blueandgrey7 - Namjoon x Jungkook, 13K, E - Flower Shop AU, Flower Language, Light Angst

Botanist Jungkook loves helping his customers pick out just the right flowers, but he hates working on Valentine's Day. Every year, he takes a couple day to avoid it, until this year, when Jimin calls in at the last minute and Jungkook has no choice but to work the dreaded holiday. And to make matters worse, his long-time crush Namjoon comes in to buy a bouquet, only adding to his misery.

so much at stake by caprikoya - Seokjin x Yoongi, 12K, T - Modern with Magic, Vampires, Insomnia, Found Family

Yoongi is turned into a vampire against his will and is having trouble adjusting to the change. Seokjin tries to show him that being undead doesn't mean he's not alive.

I hold your thoughts; and you, my heart by im_chel_c - Yoongi x Hoseok, 15K, T - Mind Reading, Angst, Happy Ending

Yoongi can read minds and because of that, it's hard to believe that a popular guy like Hoseok would like him.

Polar Night by vera_ba - Jimin x Jungkook, 19K, E (for blood and violence, not smut) - Werewolf x Hunter, Major Character Injury, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

What happens when a werewolf hunter comes across an injured omega that he simply cannot bring himself to kill?

[mrsparkjimin18]

—What If… | SOPE

→ pairing: Project Director!Yoongi x Art Director!Hoseok 

→ genre/au: light angst, fluff, diner au 

→ rating: G 

→ wordcount: 2888 

⚠︎ chapter warnings: feelings of anxiousness (not necessarily anxiety, but more like the nervousness of a situation), mutual pining, long-time confusion, mention of another possible office romance

an: A special thanks to my beta readers @peachiilovesot7 @downbad4yoongi and Sara, I honestly wasn't sure if I would be able to make this story come to fruition, but thanks to you all here it is!!!

summary: Yoongi and Hoseok have been best friends since their early childhood. When life separates them, is it destiny that brings them back together? Have they always just been close friends or is this more than just a bromance? What if…

Bangtanstrology Writing Event hosted by @hisunshiine of @bangtanwritershq 

My Big 3 are: 

Scorpio Sun (Member): Sope

Scorpio Moon (How they met): Late Night Diner 

Gemini Rising (Trope): Mutual Pining

The diner was noisy as usual. He didn’t understand why they always chose this place, there were too many distractions here. The constant sound of dishes clattering onto the busy busboy’s cart, the tables of animated customers chatting too loudly over cheap meals, the smell of grease and dollar store disinfectant that permeated the heated air, and that one lone dusty bulb at the end of its life cycle flickering above the corner booth

They all tugged at his periphery, demanding his attention, tying up his mind, until…suddenly… all of the distractions vanished.

The sound of the chime and a rush of frozen Toronto air pulled Hoseok's attention towards the door to watch his best friend of fifteen years stepping across the threshold and into the fluorescent light of the all-night diner that held it. Hoseok found his friend effortlessly suave and handsome under the harsh critique of the fluorescents. Ethereal is what came to mind as he watched Yoongi shake fluffy snowflakes from his ashy blonde hair and wipe away their fading essence from the lapels of his expensive black wool coat.

“Woah! Hyung is sexy!” Jungkook, one of the young programmers on their team, remarked, instantly confirming the feeling of awe Hoseok was experiencing at the sight of his old friend.

“Look at him! He belongs on the cover of GQ," another programmer, Taehyung, teased.

To Hoseok's surprise, Yoongi smiled coyly, quickly striking a pose as his younger co-workers continued to whistle and shout out obnoxious cat calls.

Hoseok wasn’t used to Yoongi being so playful in a public setting, and he couldn’t help the amused smile that formed on his face as he watched his usually stoic friend walk an imaginary catwalk towards their table, the tail of his coat flowing out dramatically behind him as he twirled and strutted.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, let’s not make a scene,” Their CEO, Namjoon, intervened in order to refocus his team's attention. He waited patiently for everyone to quiet down and settle into their seats. “Okay,” Namjoon began, seeing the expectant look in their eyes. “I’d like to start by saying great job to everyone! We’ve all worked hard the last few weeks. I know things were tough, and I know It felt as if everything would fall apart after our previous Art Director…. Uhm… abrupt departure,” he said with a careful grimace, knowing the topic was still sensitive. “...but thankfully, we were lucky that our Project Director, Yoongi, was able to refer his extremely talented friend during our darkest hour.” He turned towards Hoseok with his glass held out in respect. ”You’ve been a savior for our company, Hoseok. Without you, the successful completion of this project would have never happened. We sincerely thank you, and appreciate you, and look forward to many more successful ventures with you as part of this team.” He finished with a gentle squeeze of Hoseok's shoulder before returning his attention to the rest of the team and lifting his glass even higher. “Let’s congratulate Hoseok on his hard work!” He rallied their enthusiasm.

They all raised their glasses, clinking them together as they each reaffirmed Namjoons words of gratitude.

“Speech! Speech!” Jimin, the team's graphic designer, and the only member who worked directly beneath Hoseok, shouted out. Hoseok tried to decline, but the look of pride on Yoongi’s face, and the affirming head nod, were all the encouragement he needed to loosen his tongue.

Hoseok stood up confidently and addressed the whole table. “First, I want to thank the team for taking me in and truly valuing my artistic vision. I know it was hard to have someone new come in mid-project, with a new perspective and new ideas. But you allowed me to truly express myself as part of this team, and together we were able to create something amazing.”

“And profitable!” Seokjin, the Chief Financial Officer, interjected, drawing cheers and shouts from the amped-up crew and a stern look from Namjoon that quickly turned into an appreciatively flustered smile at his CFO’s brash but loveable personality. 

“And profitable,” Hoseok agreed with a raise of his glass and a wink towards Seokjin. “Second,” he continued, his attention turning solely to his friend. “I’d like to thank Yoongi. You’ve been my rock since we were kids, and I truly appreciate you for that. When we took different paths after college, I was worried it could end our friendship. But…” Suddenly, the depth of Yoongi’s gaze made the words feel heavy in his mouth. His confidence waned, and he stumbled for control of his thoughts, “...But I’m…Thankfully…well…I mean…I’m happy…”

“...that fate had other plans.” Yoongi finished for him, his eyes never leaving Hoseok’s, even as the table erupted in agreement.

“To Unmyeong!” The entire team cheered to fate as they again clinked glasses and gulped down their swirling mixtures of beer and soju.

“Yes, cheers to that!” Namjoon concluded, his voice commanding the attention be returned to him. “Next I’d like to…” he went on, picking up where he left off before Hoseok's speech. 

But Hoseok couldn’t hear a word Namjoon was saying. The only sound was the rush of his pounding heart in his ears. He stood frozen in place, still staring at Yoongi, who had already turned his attention back to their boss, wondering why everything felt so different.

It had been almost four years since they’d last seen each other. Four years of military service, failed relationships, career growths, family drama, and all the other ups and downs that life can throw out in that length of time. He had known things would be different when they met again, but this was more than just the passage of time, this change was palpable and alive, and this change had meaning and purpose. 

He’d felt it since his arrival a few weeks ago, that sense that a shift had occurred in their paradigm. A low-frequency buzz in the background of his thoughts seemed to be alerting him to the universe’s realignment. But he had been so busy, throwing himself headfirst into the project as soon as he arrived, that he’d inadvertently ignored it.

And now that it refused to be ignored, all Hoseok could do was stand frozen in place and wait. Wait for his heartbeat to return to a normal rhythm, wait for the word fate to cease its endless repetition through his mind, wait for a miracle to save him from this paralysis.

“...so cheers to a job well done.” Namjoons voice broke through, a faint echo from another dimension, as he tapped his glass to Hoseok’s. Then suddenly, Yoongi’s hand was grabbing his, pulling him back down into his seat, swiftly and effectively breaking the spell he’d been under. 

Everyone was still clinking glasses and high-fiving each other to whatever news Namjoon had just announced. Not wanting it to be obvious he hadn’t been paying attention, Hoseok quickly raised his hand from beneath the table to join in, tapping his glass across the table to Jimin’s, readying his other hand to give him a high five.

Yoongi reacts instinctively, noticing Jimin no longer paying attention, grabbing Hoseok’s wrist. Their eyes met at that moment, and they entranced one another, unable to look away. Yoongi reaches up with his free hand, gently bringing Hoseok’s hand to his in a soft high five. Their fingers intertwined, unaware if anyone else was paying attention, let alone bothered if they did. The soft pad of Yoongi's thumb stroked Hoseoks gently. He’d noticed the look of worry on his face and wanted to give him solace in knowing it’s okay.

Hoseok shook his head to break free of his current trance when he realized he was still gripping Yoongi’s hand from across the table. Without realizing it, Yoongi and Hoseoks hands connected in that surreal moment and stayed together a bit longer than everyone else. Satisfying electricity flowed from their fingertips, finally breaking the longing gaze,  and the skin contact quickly ceased leaving their cheeks tinted with a rosy blush.

“I have a question,” Seokjin turns toward Yoongi and Hoseok, “We’ve been working with Mr. Min for a little over a year, but we hadn’t heard about Mr. Jung until the need for an Art Director came about. So tell me, why did you keep your best friend a secret?”

“It’s not that I kept him a secret, he was serving the remainder of his military enlistment. We’ve always kept in contact. That's how I knew he was struggling to find employment, and at the same time, we were in need of a new Art Director. No secrets, I promise.”

“Actually, Yoongi had joined the military straight after university to get it out of the way, but I wanted to take some time to enjoy life after so many years of school. It just seems like the timing was always off for us, but now we’re back together as if we were never apart.”

“Back together?” Jimin childishly mocks Hoseok.

“So, did you only spend time with each other back home?” Jungkook asked out of curiosity, yet his tone was mildly mischievous.

“Well, we met in elementary school and we weren’t really friends at first. One day, some of the kids were messing with me and Yoongi showed up out of nowhere like my bodyguard, scared them off and we were attached at the hip after that.”

“We also have other friends,” Yoongi interjected. “But they’re more like acquaintances we met over the years.  You can say Hoseok and I had time to form a special bond..”

Yoongi glanced at Hoseok. He could sense a feeling of something he can’t quite put his finger on – maybe it’s embarrassment, anxiousness, he’s not exactly sure.

Surrounded by their coworkers, the loud and insignificant banter doesn’t phase Yoongi, his only focus was on Hoseok.

“I wanted to apologize for being so busy when you arrived…” Yoongi paused momentarily, leaning over the table a little more, “I haven’t even been to your apartment that I found for you since you moved here.”

“I hope you weren’t waiting for an invite,” Hoseok joked, “Since I wasn’t going to send one…I just assumed you were aware it isn’t necessary.”

“I’m probably free this weekend, that is, if you don’t have any plans?” Yoongi replied with a smirk, his eyebrows raised with curiosity.

Hoseok’s heart began to thump against his chest, sweat formed on his brow and upper lip, a feeling of queasy dizziness overtook him. 

Why does he make me feel this way? Hoseok thought. He squirmed in his seat, thinking he needed to adjust his posture to compose himself and rid his body of the uneasy feeling he was attempting to endure without giving Yoongi any hint of something being…off. However, he quickly realized he needed to remove himself from the playful gaze of the man he’s known nearly his whole life, whom he’s also known he’s had feelings beyond friendship for nearly as long.

“I don’t have any plans, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” Hoseok jumped from his seat and quickly disappeared to the rear of the diner.

The server arrived to take their order, “We can wait for Hoseok to come–” Taehyung was immediately cut off by Yoongi.

“I’ll have the fried chicken with french fries and a Coca-Cola. He’ll have,” he pointed to the empty chair across from him, “A hamburger, grilled with salt and pepper, bun toasted with butter, no tomato and extra pickles. Instead of grilled onions, raw onions, condiments on the side, french fries without salt on a separate plate and a Sprite, light on the ice.”

Everyone else ordered and the three youngest team members couldn’t wait until the server left the table.

“Mr. Min,” Jimin teased. “You’re always taking extra care of Hoseok at work, checking on him, bringing him coffee.”

“You even knew precisely what to order him,” Jungkook joked. “It’s so cute.”

“Is there something you’d like to tell us about your friendship?” Taehyung questioned with a childish tone.

“That’s enough,” Namjoon intervened, “Their private lives are just that…private. What they had in the past or have currently is none of our business if it’s not work related.”

“He’s right, you three just don’t know when to stop sometimes,” Seokjin added in agreement.

The team members quickly hush as Hoseok arrived back at the table and shortly after the server returned with their food.

“Yoongi, thank you for ordering for me.”

“It’s not a problem, I know what you like.”

“I bet you know what he likes,” Jungkook mumbled, and Namjoon nudged him gently with his elbow.

“Don’t tease, they’re best friends,” Namjoon repeated.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok giggled. “Our friends back home teased us about how close we’ve always been…you guys want to see some old pics of us?”

“Hobi, don’t,” Yoongi pouted.

“H-Hobi?” Jimin giggled.

“Yoongi has called me that since we were teenagers. It started as ‘Hopi,’ a mixture of Hoseok and Hope, because I was always hopeful about the future and where we’d be years from those days. Hobi was how it sounded to others, so he stuck with that.”

“Aww, that’s cuuuute,” Jungkook quipped.

“Yeah, yeah. I’d rather you just show them the pictures,” Yoongi insisted.

Hoseok pulled out his phone, scrolling through it until he found the perfect one.

“This is when we were on our high school soccer team.”

“Hey! That’s the way you were looking at him tonight, Hobi!” Jungkook laughed.

“A look of endearment,” Taehyung added.

 “Oh, here’s another one during university after our first midterms.”

“Yoongi! You look so cool!” Jimin exclaimed.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough embarrassment for one night. Anyway, how about more congratulations on a job well done?” Yoongi raised his glass, his eyes fixed on Hoseok as he watched him clink in a cheer with the other team members. He fiddled with his food, hunger evaded him as he too became lost in thought. He wonders what he’s begun to feel, it’s new but not new, could it be platonic or something more? Yoongi noticed Hoseok had ketchup on the side of his mouth and he reached across the table with a napkin, only to drop it next to his plate.

“You’ve got something on the corner of your mouth, clean it up.” Yoongi mumbled casually. 

“Thank you,” Hoseok cleared his throat before picking up the napkin and wiping his mouth.

Namjoon ordered another round of drinks for the team before they finished their food. Jungkook showed pictures of his long-distance girlfriend, Vanessa, and Taehyung decided he needed to one up him by showing a picture of his girlfriend that actually lived in the same apartment complex. 

Jimin showed pictures of his niece whom he adored as if she was his own, which led to the usual tipsy version of him getting teary-eyed as he talked about her. 

Hoseok noticed that Namjoon and Seokjin didn’t share any pictures of their “significant others,” and he realized they never really talked about having one. 

Time passed quickly as they talked about future work projects, the three youngest argued over little things and Yoongi and Hoseok continued to indirectly dote on each other.

One by one, the team members said their goodbyes, until it was just the four of them left – Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Well, it’s getting late and I have to be at the office early to finalize some paperwork for the product launch. Have a good night.” Namjoon stood and put his jacket on, nodding to Yoongi and Hoseok before exiting the restaurant.

“Tonight’s team dinner was…nice,” Hoseok murmured nervously before finishing off his drink.

Seokjin sighed, crossing his arms, his thick eyebrows furrowed and a serious expression on his face, “Don’t pay attention to what those three say, they’re always joking, even when the situation doesn’t call for jokes.” He glanced at the diner exit, “I think it’s time for me to take my leave as well, but whatever you two have, whether it be just a long-time childhood friendship or something more, don’t let anyone or anything get in the way of your bond.”

He rose from his seat and quickly headed toward the door, leaving Yoongi and Hoseok staring at one another, waiting for the other to say something…anything.

Yoongi bit his lip, wondering if he should speak first…

Hoseok waited anxiously, thinking maybe he should express his feelings honestly…

He finally realized exactly what he wanted to say…

His lips began to part and he was ready to pour his heart out… 

Just as one of them was about to speak, the chime of the diner door caught their attention. They glanced toward the window to see Namjoon standing outside. Seokijn walked to him and they exchanged a few words. Namjoon played with Seokjin's collar before they disappeared from view hand in hand.

Yoongi and Hoseok looked across the table at one another, a puzzled expression as they tried to decipher what they saw. Hoseok reached his hand across the table, placing it over Yoongi’s. A surge of new emotions, unfamiliar and relatively intimidating, consumed his entire being. Naturally, he began to softly stroke the palm of Hoseok’s hand, accepting whatever may occur from that night forward. A simple thought crossed both of their minds…

What if…

[angel-fic-recs]

The Best is Yet to Come - monochromemonotone

Min Yoongi x Jung Hoseok (Sope)

Rated : E

Wordcount : 100K (multi-chaptered)

Genre : Exes to Lovers | Post-Divorce AU

Description : Getting married is significantly easier than getting divorced, Hoseok thinks. And he and Yoongi did both, so it isn't like he's lacking the experience to make that claim.

Angel's review : I'm introducing you one of my most favorite trope on Ao3 : Exes to Lovers ! And this fanfiction is the best to portray that. I am in love with the author's writing. He has a way to depict the characters' feelings in the most raw, fair and heart-clutching way. The pining, the miscommunication, the push and pull, the emotional constipation...As much as exes to lovers in real life might be a little toxic and not the best solution for your mental health but, in this story, you cannot not root for Sope to get back together. You see that this separation has resulted from a lack of talking and emotional availability. All in all, it's a favorite trope, compiled with my favorite pairing, compiled with a beautiful writing, compiled with the best plot. A 10000/10 recommendation.

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787542/chapters/54454072

Part 1 of the Komorebi serie : https://archiveofourown.org/series/2341955

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 1: With me calling the shots, you will blow everyone away

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

Still, when Hoseok gets the call to audition for the magazine at which the elusive Min Yoongi works as the lead photographer, he does not hesitate to say yes. This is Hoseok’s dream, and he will be damned if he lets some industry hotshot stand in his way. He is an up-and-coming model who has worked with some of the hottest, most chaotic people in the business; surely, one man is not capable of hip-swishing into Hoseok’s life and throwing a wrench in all his plans. 

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 13.7k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: pining, angst, sexual tension, Yoongi is a player, Hoseok is trying his best, bickering as a form of flirting, use of “slut” playfully. also,  there is a brief chat about disordered eating/dieting but it does not go into detail and it is not something a main character lives with.

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest!

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading!  

📸 posted dec. 2022 | read on ao3

INDEX | NEXT

When Hoseok gets his acceptance call, he is over the moon. 

He dresses in his shortest black shorts and favorite black mesh tank top, and summons the boys to meet him out for drinks at their favorite club – his treat – to drop the bomb on them the moment the tray of shots is delivered. He is met with less than enthusiastic responses, which he had anticipated, but still feels annoyed by.

Jimin, with his wavy pink hair, matching pink crop top, and short, black tennis skirt, shifts onto one foot with a hand on his hip and the other in the air, palm facing heavenward, as if to ask what the fuck. 

Taehyung sits, head to toe in white – a flowing vest over a turtleneck that is tucked into loose-fitting slacks, with a little beret on his head. His dark brown hair peeks out from under the beret, curling neatly, and his posture is stiff, eyes as wide as disks.

And finally, Jeongguk, drowning in all black cotton-polyester blend with his eyes lined thick in black and silver metal shimmering in his eyebrow, lip, and ears. His long, wavy hair is nearly long enough to cover his eyes, which are focused down at the table before him. 

"You know the photographer's reputation, right?" Jimin says with a smile, his plush, glossy lips upturned and mischievous. His voice is bubbly, despite his glare being sharp.

Hoseok rolls his eyes and shrugs. Of course, he knows.

"I thought we made a pact never to apply there," Taehyung mutters. Despite his boxy lips always looking somewhat downturned, they are in a full, unmistakable frown. 

"I didn't apply there," Hoseok responds smugly. "They called me."

Jeongguk says nothing – stares at the table before them with his arms around his chest, a reminder that Jeongguk and Min Yoongi worked together six months back. The kid must still be reeling from the experience. 

"Look," Hoseok says, waving his hands in the air in an attempt to dispel the bad vibes. "We don't know which photographer I will be assigned to, okay. M is a huge magazine; they have more than one professional on set."

"But we can assume that if they called you, then it was at the behest of the man in charge," Jimin counters. "The smaller photographers aren't going to have any pull. And it is not as if anyone at that magazine makes choices but him. It's called M, after all. For Min."

Hoseok cannot help but laugh, throwing his head back so that his crimped, dark brown hair falls and shakes with his movements.

"I didn't take you for a conspiracy theorist, but go off, I guess."

This shuts them up, but only momentarily. Despite apparently having strong feelings about Hoseok's new boss, they are still thirsty little hyenas when offered alcohol, and as Hoseok begins to hand out bright pink cherry bombs, they all take one and wait patiently for their cue to cheer. 

"To me being the first model who doesn't get royally fucked by M," Hoseok says cheekily as he holds out his drink.

"We'll see about that," Jeongguk mutters as they all take their shots. 

 * * * 

Three hours later, Hoseok is wasted and decides to go home. A glance at the others, and they are all over each other on the dancefloor, with Jimin in the center, arms up above his head while Taehyung and Jeongguk felt and explored and groped. 

"Embarrassing," Hoseok grumbles to himself as he punches in the address of their shared apartment building and waits for the app to tell him that a ride is on the way.

Truth be told, Hoseok does not find their behavior embarrassing at all. He is just jealous. He used to be the one to get all the attention – to get felt up on the dancefloor and have envious glares pointed his way. 

Now it is always Jimin. Jimin, with his fat lips and fatter ass. Jimin with his whiny voice and snappy attitude. When Hoseok got the call to work for M, he could not wait to rub it in Jimin's face. 

And maybe, some part of Hoseok hopes that the photographer does come onto him. It is not as if he will cave so easily to some man, and it will be nice to be the center of attention, again. With the pretty boys who once fawned over him gone, modeling in different countries, Hoseok no longer has his big beefy dummies to keep him grounded anymore. He feels lonely. 

When his cab arrives, Hoseok takes one last drink of the vodka cranberry sitting on the table – probably Jeongguk's, but who is to say. He waves his hand in the general direction of the dancefloor, knowing they will absolutely not see him, and leaves with a huff. 

Tomorrow, he is going to be bigger and better than any of his friends could ever dream of, and unlike Jeongguk – the only one who managed to work at the magazine before him – he will not come running back to the agency with his tail between his legs. No, no, not Hoseok. 

Hoseok is different. 

Hoseok is going to be a star. 

 * * *

Hoseok is instructed to go straight to the shooting location at 10 AM, and he is shocked when a driver arrives to pick him up just after 8, but he gets in the car. He is told the makeup and wardrobe tech will already be there, and to just bring himself and his photo ID. 

When the car pulls up to the destination, Hoseok cranes his neck, looking out the windows. They are in the middle of coastal nowhere at a sand dune, and Hoseok scrunches his nose as he surveys the area. He is not looking forward to getting sand all over himself. 

"You're sure this is the right place?" Hoseok mutters with a frown.

"Are you suggesting I can't do my job?" the driver responds, taking Hoseok by surprise. 

"I—no, I'm—"

"Have a fun shoot, kid!" the driver interrupts in a fake-chipper voice. 

Hoseok scowls and gets out of the car, instantly regretting his entire life. It is windy on the coast, and sand kicks up and blows into his face, so he lifts his arms to protect his eyes and mouth, then attempts to peek around in search of another living creature. Cars line the road but they all appear empty.

A ways away, smack dab in the center of the large expanse of sand, is a massive white tent. It certainly seems large enough to contain a photography studio, and Hoseok begins to hobble in that direction. The driver pulls away, abandoning Hoseok, and he sighs as he begins on uneven footing to traverse the sand. 

Luckily, he had the wherewithal to wear sneakers. How unfortunate that they will be absolutely full of sand by the time the day is over. He is also dressed in black denim shorts that come mid-thigh, a plain white tee half-tucked in the front, and his outgrown, wavy dark brown hair is left to sit messily over his forehead and ears. 

The instruction was to come untouched by makeup and product, and not to worry about wardrobe because one would be provided. So, Hoseok did as he was told and came with his hands empty, save for his ID, which is nestled in his front pocket. 

By the time Hoseok is halfway to the tent, his calves and abs are burning, and he is out of breath. He feels silly trudging through wind and sand without another human in sight and doubts that he is even going the correct way. But, he reasons, there is no other way to go, so onward toward the large, ominous tent, it is. 

As he nears the tent, Hoseok starts to hear music. It is a jazzy tune – piano accompanied by a low female voice. It sounds nostalgic but unfamiliar, and Hoseok slows his steps as he lets the music carry him toward the looming white structure in the middle of nowhere. 

Once Hoseok rounds a corner and approaches what he assumes to be the front of the structure, a tall man pops his head out and smiles. Hoseok nearly gasps – feels his eyes widen, and his heart begin to pound – as the man's smile grows and dimples crease his cheeks. His dark brown hair is a bit outgrown into a soft, lazy mullet, and he has a smattering of glitter and silver shadow on his eyes, accenting the sharp edges of his lids. 

"Hoseok?" the man asks, and Hoseok hesitates, then nods. 

"Y-yes, hi," he manages, feeling out of breath from his sandy trek and blindsided by the man's beauty.

"I'm Namjoon," the man says, straightening out as Hoseok gets closer. "I'll be your makeup and wardrobe guy for the day."

Namjoon disappears behind the entrance, and Hoseok prances over the threshold after him. He is dressed head to toe in flowing black garments, and he spins on his slipper-clad feet as he leads the way further into the tent.

"Shoes go there, and there are slippers along the wall," Namjoon instructs, pointing vaguely behind him as he continues to walk away. "Find a pair in your size and keep them safe; they're yours."

Hoseok nods and scrambles out of his sneakers, kicking them off with his toes, then finds a pair of slippers that are slightly too big and shuffles his way toward Namjoon, who is leading Hoseok toward a partition off to the right side of the structure. 

Toward the back of the massive tent are lights, light reflectors, and other equipment, all facing the far wall. Hoseok glances around, wondering if the man himself is there, and is disappointed to find the room empty. 

To say Hoseok is eager to meet Min Yoongi in the flesh is an understatement. He wants to see what all the fuss is about so he can return home and laugh in the faces of those who doubt him. As far as he is concerned, there is no way any man in this sandy hellscape can be better looking than Namjoon. 

As Hoseok rounds the partition, he expects to see a team of wardrobe and makeup staff, and is surprised to find only Namjoon standing before a rack of robes with one hand on his hip while he slowly shifts them back and forth. After a short moment, he pulls out a white silk knee-length robe with a pink petal and gold leaf design. 

Namjoon glances up, motions for Hoseok to have a seat at a makeup station across from the robes, and Hoseok shuffles in and sits down on the cold, black leather. Despite the setup being inside a large tent, the mirror is surrounded by lights, casting a bright glare over Hoseok's perfect complexion as he stares at himself. He can't imagine how they managed to get electricity in a place like this – he assumes the lighting equipment can run on batteries.

"I'm going to crimp your hair and style it away from your forehead with a gold band," Namjoon informs as he drapes the robe over an empty chair, then approaches, standing behind Hoseok and using his pinkies to pull the hair from his face. "We'll do bright gold accents, and from there, Yoongi-hyung can decide what to do with you."

At the mention of Yoongi's name, Hoseok gets goosebumps. He hopes Namjoon does not notice – he does not want Namjoon to even have an inkling that Hoseok knows about Yoongi's reputation. The artist, however, is quite observant, and he smirks.

"What was that?" Namjoon asks.

Hoseok attempts to keep his voice natural, but it shakes as he responds, "What was what?"

Namjoon laughs a deep, jovial sound. "Oh, please. I saw the twinkle in your eye. Can't wait to meet the hot shot photographer, can you?"

Hoseok shrugs as his eyes float around the room – anywhere but Namjoon's all-seeing gaze.

"I hear he's the best of the best. And, of course I have seen his work. Hard not to get a bit excited."

A hum follows, but it is an unconvincing hum that makes Hoseok nervous.

"Just don't let him charm you," Namjoon mutters quietly, and Hoseok widens his eyes and gasps dramatically.

"Charm? Pfft, please. What kind of boy do you take me for?"

This time, when Namjoon laughs, it is lighter and more relaxed. "Just have to be sure. He has a reputation in these parts...and I'm tired of losing talented models to him."

With a roll of his eyes and the sweetest voice he can muster, Hoseok says, "Awe, Joonie, already warming up to me?"

Namjoon's mouth falls open in a look of shock with maybe a hint of awe.

"Joonie? I—what year were you born?"

At this challenge, Hoseok raises his eyebrows, already ready to win.

"94."

Namjoon's awe dissipates slightly, but he stands a little taller.

"Me too, what month?"

Hoseok's lips curl into a grin, and he draws out each syllable as he says, "February."

A pause, then Namjoon's façade falls.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath. “September.”

Hoseok hums, "So, I guess you can call me hyung, Joonie."

"I will do no such thing, Hoseok-ssi."

The two of them laugh, and Namjoon gets back to his task at hand, checking his crimper to make sure the metal is hot enough, then clipping back the top layers of Hoseok's hair to begin working on the underside. 

They make small talk, but it is mostly friendly banter, and Hoseok closes his eyes as Namjoon does his work – he feels too awkward to either stare at his reflection or at the broad chest directly in front of him, depending on where Namjoon happens to be.

Then, the makeup begins, and Hoseok hums a tune that has been in his head for a while – a tune he cannot quite place. Namjoon is gentle and quick, and when Hoseok opens his eyes to glance at this final product, he gasps.

His sharp features are perfectly accentuated in gold, and there is a thick slope of gold liner around Hoseok's eyes that dusts out over his lids. With his hair crimped and pulled back, he looks like an effigy carved from metal – too pristine and heavenly to be real. 

Namjoon gently takes Hoseok's chin with his fingertips and tilts his head up, then applies a little more makeup to one of his eyes.

"Your eyelids are slightly different shapes," he mutters under his breath. 

Hoseok hums; he has heard this many times before, though not always in such a calm voice. In the modeling industry, being slightly imperfect is a burden, not something to be celebrated. 

"It's nice," Namjoon mutters, "shows character." 

Hoseok feels his heart pound from Namjoon's kindness and swallows a lump in his throat. He wonders if all the hype about this company is just that: hype. He is told the M team is ruthless and cold, but so far, all Hoseok has experienced warmth. 

As Namjoon says, "There, perfect," and lets go of Hoseok's chin, Hoseok turns back to the mirror to stare at his reflection. 

Namjoon has managed to even out the makeup without masking the shapes of eyelids in an attempt to make them look identical, and Hoseok feels proud of his eyes, and of himself, and changes into the robe with his chin up and with an optimistic outlook on the rest of the shoot.

* * *

As it turns out, the warmth ends the moment Hoseok steps past the partition and out of Namjoon's workspace. Hoseok walks out into the main area of the big white tent, toward where lights and reflectors are, wearing only a silk robe, his tight black briefs, and the slippers that are a half size too big. 

Despite the wind being stopped by the tent, the room itself is fairly chilly. At some point, the music had turned off, leaving just the sounds of muttering voices and slippered feet to fill the space.

Hoseok cannot imagine why Yoongi asked him to come all the way out here just to shoot in a stupid tent, and as he gets closer to the equipment, to a single white chair that he notices has been placed in front of everything, he begins to feel annoyance crawl up his neck.

With a huff, Hoseok sits on the small, white, plastic chair. It feels cold through his measly layers of clothing, and he wraps his arms around his waist and slumps forward, wishing he could turn himself into a ball of body heat – or, better yet, evaporate into thin air and put what is undoubtedly set to be a strange experience behind him. 

Soft footsteps pull Hoseok's attention from the spot on the white tent floor that he had been staring at, and he looks up to find a man in all black – the same loose-fitting black attire Namjoon and apparently everyone else wears – with nearly shoulder-length wavy dark brown hair approaching with a square black bag hanging from his shoulder. 

It appears to be a camera gear bag, but the man in question looks too soft to be the infamous photographer. Hoseok has heard he is stern, with square shoulders and sharp eyes. This man looks like a cute little dumpling with the features of a kitten.

Hoseok has seen photos of Yoongi before, but he rarely makes public appearances, and when he does, his face is partially obstructed by a mask, sunglasses, a hat, or a combination of the three. In the photos, it is impossible to tell how tall the man is, but this man appears to be close to Hoseok's height – if not shorter – and he has always imagined Yoongi to be giant, commanding of attention.

The man approaches, sets his bag down beside the lighting equipment, and squats down to unzip it. Behind him, more men run into the room and begin fussing with things – many running behind Hoseok, and some checking the extension cords and other wires, making sure everything is in order. 

One man, taller and broader than the one squatting near the gear bag, approaches with another square black bag. His eyes are pointed, and his brow is furrowed – he looks cold and reserved, and far too serious – and Hoseok thinks he must be Min Yoongi, after all. The man...the enigma.

"Everything should be set," the taller man says, and the one squatting nods, hums, and does not make any other acknowledgment. 

A gust of wind behind Hoseok makes him shiver, and he turns to find a team of men opening the tent and rolling away the sides. In the distance, waves crash along the shore, and there are large jutting rocks that break the water, sending droplets flying into the air to glitter in the sun. 

At least, that is what Hoseok imagines; it is too far away to see anything but a sea of sand and abstract shapes and color. But in his mind, the scene is stunning. 

"You," a deep voice rasps, turning Hoseok's attention back to the man before him. It is the shorter one with wavy hair, and now that he is closer, Hoseok can see the stern, sharpness in his eyes. "Are you cold?"

Hoseok nods, becoming acutely aware of just how cold he is now that it is at the forefront of his mind, and he tightens his hands around his waist.

"Hmm," the man grunts, then he turns back toward where men are milling around, and shouts, "Seokjin!"

The man turns back to Hoseok but does not look at him.

"I'll have him bring you a heater, but I can't promise it will do much," he says as he fiddles with the camera in his hands, checking the screen and clicking buttons. "Can't have you getting gooseflesh."

"Th-thank you," Hoseok mutters.

The man looks at Hoseok and raises an eyebrow, and Hoseok thinks he may detect the hint of a smirk.

"I'm the photographer, by the way," he says, and Hoseok's breath hitches. 

"Yoongi," he mutters under his breath.

Yoongi squints and tilts his head at Hoseok, taking a step forward to tower over him. Hoseok feels small on his cold plastic chair under such an intense gaze.

"That's Yoongi-ssi, to you."

Hoseok nods, feeling his heart pound. "O-of course, my apologies, Yoongi-ssi."

"But you have no reason to address me, regardless. I will give you orders, and you will follow them. No need to speak."

Discomfort gnaws at Hoseok's insides, and he drops his gaze from Yoongi to the floor, hugging himself tighter. There is absolutely no way this man was the object of his sweet friend Jeongguk's attention. This man is callous and demeaning. 

"You can say yes sir as a response to me, though," Yoongi adds with a slight playful hint that Hoseok finds condescending. "If you'd like."

Hoseok shrugs and mutters, "I'm good," refusing to make eye contact, preferring the white floor instead. He could swear he hears Yoongi chuckle, but he chooses not to investigate. 

The taller man named Seokjin returns, and Yoongi tells him to fetch a heater, to which he nods and goes in the direction from which he had just come. Hoseok wishes Seokjin were his photographer, instead. Despite his intimidating stature, he imagines nobody could be worse than Yoongi.

Yoongi and his team finish setting up, and Hoseok sneaks glances but does not stare long. With the tent open and more sunlight filling the space, everything feels bright, almost blindingly so, and Hoseok wishes he had something to ease his mind, like a thick pair of sunglasses, or a nice, stiff gin and tonic. 

"All set?" he hears Namjoon's voice ask, and Hoseok glances up at him, expectantly.

Yoongi is facing Hoseok with Namjoon standing beside him, and both men have their hands on their hips, studying him. 

"This will do," Yoongi says.

Namjoon's lips crack a smile, and he gives a single nod of his head. Hoseok wonders if that is all the praise Yoongi affords his staff – a simple "this will do" that sounds less encouraging than a pleasant "job well done." 

Hoseok hates Min Yoongi. 

He hates how the man seems so insincere and impersonal. He hates that someone as kind and talented as Namjoon does not get the praise that he deserves. As both men stand and scrutinize him with their eyes, he feels the urge to throw his hands in the air and storm out of there, leaving this entire experience behind him. 

But before Hoseok can say or do anything, Yoongi turns to the staff, who have all gathered around the area, several feet from the camera equipment, and waves them all off. 

"Today will be a closed set," Yoongi announces as he turns his attention back to Hoseok, eyes staring holes into his skin so intense, Hoseok looks down to the floor, only glancing up when he notices Seokjin return with the heater and leave before plugging it in.

There is some chatter amongst the staff, but for the most part, people shrug and begin to head to the exit. Those who were busy opening the end of the tent must be finished, and they file out around them, following everyone out.

"Be back in an hour," Namjoon tells them as he stands near the exit and waits for everyone to leave. 

Then, when all of the black-clad bodies have left, Namjoon gives a glance back toward Hoseok, shooting a smile that is barely visible from this distance, and leaves, closing the door to the tent behind him.

Yoongi turns and opens a bag that has been set beside his equipment and begins to rummage through it. He pulls out a small gold bucket, sets it down on the floor, and squats to work the lid off. 

"Disrobe, please," Yoongi says, keeping his eyes on the task at hand, and Hoseok hesitates, hands feeling stuck in place and unsure how to move. 

When Yoongi glances up and cocks an eyebrow, Hoseok's limbs begin to work, and he quickly stands and unties the silk cord around his waist, letting the robe fall open. The wind from the beach is just strong enough to chill Hoseok, and with every new inch of exposed skin, he shivers harder. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi mutters, standing with an open bucket of swirling gold liquid. "We don't have all day."

"What are y—"

"I want to paint your arms, chest, and neck. And maybe your shins. Once it's dry, we'll do some shots, then you can put the robe back on for the rest."

Ridiculous, Hoseok tells himself. Namjoon is the makeup and wardrobe artist; why is Yoongi the one to paint him?

Hoseok complies, shrugging away the robe until it slides down to his wrists, then he pulls one arm out to gather it with the other. Yoongi reaches for the garment, takes it, then tosses it aside to land in a pile on the floor. Then, he dips his hand in the bucket of paint, pulls it out, and stands, dripping it all over the otherwise flawless white floor.

“This will be cold,” is all the warning Hoseok gets before Yoongi begins to slather the gold paint across Hoseok's bare chest.

The paint is cold, but Hoseok thinks it is because of the contact with Yoongi's hand on his skin that he jumps and his breath hitches. Yoongi's palm is large, fingers are long, and as he smears the gold over his chest, warmth radiating beneath the initial cold from the touch, Hoseok lets his eyes flutter closed. 

He does not want to see the slight tug of Yoongi's eyebrows as he concentrates, nor does he want to spot any freckles that may be on his nose from this close. Yoongi is the enemy, Hoseok reminds himself. And he will not fall victim to his charms – assuming the man has any, in the first place.

Hoseok has no idea how long it takes for Yoongi to cover him in paint, but it feels like an eternity. He shivers and breathes in through his nose, doing his best not to let his shoulders or chest rise and fall too heavily. 

When Yoongi is finally done and all that is left is thick, drying paint and the ghost of all the places his fingers have touched, Hoseok opens his eyes to find Yoongi turning on the heater and adjusting it so that it points in Hoseok's direction. It is a tall, thin unit with a large angular top that appears to send heat downward, and although it takes some time for the warmth to adequately affect Hoseok, he is grateful. 

Yoongi appears to be setting up equipment, checking his cameras, and readying rolls of film, and Hoseok keeps his eyes trained just past him, lest he gets caught staring. He is still standing in just his briefs, he assumes to wait for the paint to dry.

Quietly, Yoongi clears his throat, then he stands before Hoseok. 

"Gonna do some closeups on your face, neck, and shoulders, first without the robe, and then we'll go out toward the end of the tent for some full body shots. I want your limbs elongated, face relaxed and indifferent, and your head tilted."

"Yes, sir," Hoseok mutters, looking down, past Yoongi. 

"You can't be afraid of eye contact."

Hoseok scoffs. "I'm not."

"Then look at me."

Hoseok blinks and lifts his eyes, staring ahead at Yoongi, whose expression is dark and heavy. His intense eye contact sends a shiver through Hoseok, but he returns the gaze, doing his best to steady his breath despite his pounding heart. Yoongi has two tiny moles – one on his nose and one on the apple of his cheek – and Hoseok feels his face begin to warm as he is the first to break eye contact and look, instead, at Yoongi's shoulder. 

Without another word, Yoongi backs up, raises his camera, and begins to shoot. The sound of the shutter clicking, synched with the lights flashing, takes Hoseok out of his head, and he rolls his shoulders back, elongates his neck and arms, and begins to pose – moving ever so slowly while alternating looking into the camera and up to the side. 

Yoongi takes several steps around Hoseok, shooting at a variety of distances and speeds, never giving any instruction, but occasionally humming to himself. Somehow, Hoseok feels a connection – like a mind link of sorts – and he follows along with Yoongi's movements with effortless confidence. 

Then, Yoongi nods down to Hoseok's robe, mutters, "You can put it back on," and shoves his hands into a black cloth bag in which he has inserted his camera, to wind and change the roll of film.

Hoseok steps toward the robe, bends, and picks it up. He lets the fabric flow in the light breeze, despite there not being much sand on the floor to get stuck to it, then puts it on, leaving it untied but hugging it around his chest. Yoongi finishes his task, puts the strap of the camera around his neck, then grabs what appears to be a digital camera, and nods toward the opening in the tent. 

"You don't have to go far, just a foot or so onto the sand. We can bring the heater if you need, but hopefully the sunshine will be enough."

The sunshine is not enough, but the sooner they get this shoot over with, the sooner Hoseok can go home. Thankfully, the wind does die down and Yoongi makes quick work getting his shots, only complaining once about goosebumps but grumbling that he can edit them in post. Although Hoseok was not looking forward to having to get into the sand, he welcomes the warmth as his shins and palms sink into it.

"All done," Yoongi says abruptly, after what hardly feels like an eternity, and turns on his heel to walk back into the tent while looking down at his digital camera, flipping through shots he had just taken and humming to himself. 

Hoseok hobbles to his feet, groaning as the sand seems to stick to the paint on his arms and legs, and makes his way back to the partition where his clothing has been left. He never saw Namjoon return, and he hopes he comes back soon. Hoseok has no idea how much time has passed, nor how the hell he is supposed to get home. 

As he stands with his palms open and out to his sides, trying to decide what to do, Yoongi's raspy voice pulls him from his thoughts, making him jolt. 

"Don't bother getting dressed— Jesus, are you really that jumpy?"

"I wasn't expecting you to creep up behind me," Hoseok responds as he turns to find Yoongi's head peeking around the corner. 

"You can shower at mine and I'll drop you off."

Ah, Hoseok thinks, so this is how he gets them. Offers them a shower and a ride home. Textbook creeper move.

"No thanks," Hoseok says, turning back to his clothing. "I can just go like this and shower when I get home."

"Go where?" Yoongi asks in almost a teasing tone that makes Hoseok's blood boil.

"Home," Hoseok responds, attempting to keep his voice calm.

"And how will you get there?"

At this, Hoseok turns on the balls of his feet and glares at the man who has the audacity to smirk at him. "A car."

"I'm certain you didn't drive here."

"No, I—"

"Reception is shit. You won't be able to get a taxi back. Plus, I can't possibly pay you enough for today's shoot for you to be taking a cab this far. Let me give you a ride, it's no big deal."

Hoseok sighs. He hopes that Namjoon may magically appear and offer him a ride instead, but as he takes his time slipping his feet into his slippers and gathering his clothing into a neat pile, no such miracle occurs.

"What if I get gold on your car seats?" Hoseok offers as a final concession to talk the man out of giving him a ride.

Yoongi shrugs. "I've gotten worse on my seats. It's water-based, anyway; washes right out."

How annoying, Hoseok thinks, that Yoongi seems to have all the answers. 

When they exit the partitioned area, several men are back, putting the tent back together. Others are packing up the equipment and locking it away. Hoseok glances around to see if Namjoon has returned, but of course, he is nowhere to be seen. 

Yoongi changes from his slippers into some boots, so Hoseok does the same, sliding his feet into his sneakers. He waits to see whether Yoongi takes his slippers with, then decides to leave his behind when Yoongi does so, tucking the heel of one of his into the toe of the other, so he can easily identify them next time. Assuming there will be a next time.

"This way," Yoongi says as he leaves the tent and veers off to the right. 

There is less distance to trudge in this direction, and Hoseok does his best to keep up despite the sand making it difficult to walk in a straight line. With each sink of his foot, Hoseok feels his patience and understanding crumble away, falling through his fingers like the very sand he despises. 

Yoongi is the first to make it up a short hill and onto flat land, and he turns to offer Hoseok a hand, which Hoseok declines before realizing just how steep and difficult the area is. Reluctantly, Hoseok places a hand in Yoongi's, ignoring the warmth that radiates from his skin and how engulfing his grip is. 

"You shoot out here a lot?" Hoseok mutters, unsure why suddenly, he feels the urge to make small talk with his sworn enemy. 

Yoongi hums and nods, and when Hoseok is safely standing on a small gravel road, Yoongi lets go of him and turns away, walking toward a large black sedan. Once Hoseok rounds the vehicle and opens the door, the air around him seems to thicken. He clambers into the seat, taking care to make sure the robe covers his legs, then buckles his seatbelt and neatly places his clothing onto his lap. Yoongi seems to be placing his gear into the trunk

The vehicle smells musky, with hints of wood and something floral. It is almost intoxicating, and Hoseok closes his eyes to breathe slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth in an attempt to center himself and erase all thought from his mind. He will not let the smell of Yoongi's vehicle distract him from the fact that the man is the fucking devil.

Yoongi gets into the driver's side and Hoseok quietly clears his throat and looks out the window – anywhere but at the man beside him. The ignition starts and the car begins to move ahead, and although the area is beautiful and Hoseok would like to spend more time getting to see the terrain, his eyes focus on nothing as he stares ahead. Briefly, Hoseok checks his phone, only to find he has no bars, and he lets his hand fall to his lap. 

"I would like to sit down with you and look at the shots before sending you home for the day," Yoongi says, breaking the tense silence. "You will get paid for your time, and there is a shower in the studio that you can use to clean off. When you are ready, I can either take you home or call you a cab."

Hoseok says nothing, just stares ahead as the rocky scenery slowly blends into countryside, leaving the beach behind them.

"Hoseok," Yoongi grumbles, and Hoseok sighs, then says, "Yes, sir," with a bite on the end of the last word. 

Yoongi chuckles. "Are you always so uptight?"

Anger rises in Hoseok, and he turns to find Yoongi has removed a layer of his clothing, with pale, muscular arms on display and his black t-shirt hugging him a little too tight. Hoseok only spares Yoongi's face a glance before turning to look ahead. 

"This is real rich coming from the guy who told me not to speak, and to blindly follow his orders."

Yoongi chuckles again, which only serves to make Hoseok angrier. "I was joking. You models, I swear."

"Asshole," Hoseok mutters under his breath, and Yoongi laughs even harder. If he weren't driving, Hoseok would feel the urge to slap him.

After their minor transgression, the drive is quiet, save for Yoongi turning on the radio. He keeps the volume low but occasionally taps his fingers to the beat against the steering wheel. As the city comes into view, Hoseok begins to dread going back to Yoongi's home studio and sitting with him. The man is so impossible to read, and he just wants to put this day behind him and go have a stiff drink.

Hoseok's phone buzzes to life, suddenly flooded with the notifications he missed while in the middle of sandy fucking nowhere, and he glances down at his screen as they come in.

Jimin Details! I need to know everything about today's shoot!!!

Jeongguk Good luck, hyung! Don't let that monster charm you!!!

Jimin You've been silent all morning. Please let us know you're still alive!

Jeongguk Your silence is worrying...

Taehyung Please don't be mad, but I had to use your toothbrush :/ I'll get you a new one this weekend!

Jimin If you don't respond by 5 I'm sending out a rescue team!

Jimin On second thought, if you really have gone missing, I get first dibs on your closet!

Jeongguk Whatever you do, do not let him take you to his home studio to shoot more photos! Stay away from there!!!

"Almost there," Yoongi says as he exits from the main highway, into the city. 

Hoseok shoots off responses to everyone, assuring Jeongguk that everything is fine, warning Jimin to stay the fuck away from his closet, and sending Taehyung a simple, "Ew." Then he tucks his phone away and watches as the city forms around them.

It is no surprise to Hoseok that Yoongi lives in one of the more affluent areas. He is, after all, the Min Yoongi – a prodigy from a young age who shot into superstardom with his photography. Hoseok would be shocked if the man has worked a normal job a day in his life. 

As much as Hoseok knows he should take Jeongguk's advice and insist on a ride back to his place instead, he is curious to see how Yoongi lives. He wonders if he holes up in some shabby apartment just on the outskirts of the expensive area, in a place so covered in books, artwork, and other found objects, that he has to create paths from room to room, sheepishly apologizing for the state of the place. He would, after all, still be able to bag someone as weird as Jeongguk, so it is not beyond the realm of possibility. 

Or, Hoseok thinks, maybe he lives in a stuffy high-rise full of his parent's things, and despite his big age, he has to respond to their beck and call because they undoubtedly paid for his education and keep the roof over his head, and he owes them his life – the true owners of M magazine. It is all conspiracy, but Hoseok allows his mind to wander. 

As they pull up to a rather nice building, Hoseok glances around, taking in the architecture. These particular apartments are spacious and large, but not very tall, overlooking both the city and the river, which is not too far in the distance, from a hillside. A penthouse in a building like this costs a pretty penny, and it is just secluded enough from the more busy areas of town that the noises from the city at night probably do not reach it.

"This is me," Yoongi grumbles as he shuts off the ignition and gets out of the car. 

Hoseok hesitates, only unfastening his belt when Yoongi opens the trunk to retrieve something. Then, Hoseok gets out of the vehicle, holding his clothing tight to his chest and making sure his robe is closed. He follows Yoongi up a short set of stairs, into a rather plain but large lobby, and avoids eye contact with the woman at the front desk while they make their way to the elevator. 

There are only five floors in this building, and as Yoongi uses a card to gain access to the fourth floor, Hoseok wonders if each unit has its own elevator access.

"Floor four," Hoseok chides, watching through the reflection of the silver elevator doors as Yoongi's eyebrows rise and he cocks his head in Hoseok's direction. "I would have expected a hot shot photographer like yourself to have the penthouse suite."

Yoongi's reflection smirks, and Hoseok finds himself looking away.

"I do," he rasps as the elevator doors slide open, and he steps forward into a small hallway with a single door, leading straight into the spacious unit. "This floor is my studio."

Yoongi punches in a code and pushes open the door, sliding off his shoes near the entrance and walking through the space. Hoseok follows behind just fast enough to avoid the elevator doors closing on him, and removes his shoes, as well. Although the studio looks like a typical apartment at first, with large couches near a glass wall and an open-concept kitchen, there are bags here and there with equipment sticking from them, stacked neatly on tables and chairs. 

"Have a seat," Yoongi calls from the kitchen as he fills a glass of water from the sink. He seems to have dumped his bag on one of the large leather couches, so Hoseok goes that way and sits a few feet from it. 

When Yoongi returns, he has two glasses, and he sets one in front of Hoseok on a large wooden coffee table, then sits in the space between Hoseok and the bag. 

"I'll make this quick so you can clean up and head home," he says as he begins to unzip the bag and pull out his camera.

"Obviously, we can't see everything I shot because some of it is on film," Yoongi mutters as he shifts around with a camera body in his hand and begins to flip through photographs. "But I wanted to at least run some of these by you before I touch them up and send them off to the editors."

Hoseok leans in and looks at a closeup of his face, painted gold with his wild, crimpy hair nearly covering one eye. He may as well be Adonis with his sharp yet soft features, accentuated beautifully by makeup and a glow of natural light.

"Wow," Hoseok mutters before he can stop himself, and Yoongi flips through a few more, all with slight variations to the angle and pose of his head, as well as the intensity in his eyes.

"You're a natural," Yoongi says softly, taking Hoseok by surprise. 

He glances up to find Yoongi gazing down at the photo on the screen, and feels a prickle in his palms, which begin to sweat. The woody, floral musk from Yoongi’s vehicle tickles Hoseok's senses, making him light-headed, and he breathes through his mouth in an effort to stop smelling it.

"Th-thank you."

"Are you confident with these shots? Can we go ahead and use them?"

Hoseok is surprised by Yoongi's questioning and stares at him for a split moment. Never has a photographer bothered to go over the photos with him before, much less ask how he feels about them. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow and Hoseok blinks heavily and swallows a lump of something nervous and unfamiliar. 

"Y-yeah," Hoseok mutters, "Of course. You did a great job."

"Great," Yoongi responds as he flicks the power for the camera body off and sets it on his lap. "If you want to get cleaned up, there is a bathroom just past the kitchen. I will start on touching these up, in there," Yoongi points to a room in the opposite direction, across from where they sit, "so just shout when you're finished."

"Oh—okay," Hoseok says as he shifts away from Yoongi and picks up the glass of water, suddenly feeling parched. 

Yoongi gets up from the couch, and says, "Use whatever you want in there. Towels are in the closet." Then he takes the camera and walks in the direction of what Hoseok assumes is his office.

Hoseok drinks more water, then stands from the large, brown sofa and slowly makes his way toward the set of doors near the kitchen. The furnishings are minimal, all made from what looks like restored wood and brown leather. Landscape photographs line the walls on this end of the space, near the kitchen and bathroom, and poster-sized versions of some of Yoongi's magazine covers are on the walls in the other direction. 

In the bathroom, Hoseok quickly locates a towel, figures out the shower, and washes the gold from his skin. Luckily, as Yoongi said, it washes off easily, and he does not have to scrub too hard. The soaps and shampoos are fruity, and by the time Hoseok gets out and dries off, he smells like a basket of apples and tangerines. 

It feels good to be back in his own clothes, and Hoseok towel dries his hair, then uses it to dab away some of the makeup that did not come out in the shower. As he exits the room, he cannot help but notice two toothbrushes in a cup by the sink and thinks it is a little weird that someone who lives in a different apartment uses this space to brush his teeth. Then he shrugs the thought away, shuts off the light, and returns to the couch. 

Hoseok barely opens his mouth to call for Yoongi, when he sees Yoongi's head pop out from the room.

"Which side of town do you live on?" he asks. 

Suddenly, Hoseok feels shy about getting a ride back home, and he begins to pull his phone out, muttering, "Oh, you don't have t—"

"Because if you are near your old campus, I have to go that way, so I can just drop you off."

Hoseok considers lying about where he lives and getting a cab, but he remembers how broke he is and, with a sigh, concedes. Yoongi probably already looked up where he lives, anyway; he has that information on file.

"Yeah, I don't live too far from there."

"Perfect," Yoongi says as he makes his way to the entrance hall and slides on his shoes, calling for the elevator while Hoseok scrambles on to join him. 

* * * 

"Well?" Jeongguk asks with wide, curious eyes as Jimin pours four glasses of beer, causing the first to nearly overflow with foam.

Hoseok shrugs.

"It was...weird. But fine."

"Weird but fine," Jimin parrots, sliding a glass toward Hoseok. "That's it?"

"I mean," Hoseok sighs, "I don't know. I went out to the sea, and it was sandy and windy, and he covered me in gold paint. The photos came out nice, and after, he gave me a ride home."

"A ride home, or a ride to his place?" Jeongguk asks.

Hoseok glares at his young friend while taking a sip of the cold, bittersweet beer, then sets his glass down on their shabby wooden table with a thunk.

"To his studio, and then home. And before you ask, no, he did not make any moves. We barely spoke. He just offered to let me look at the photos and then I washed the paint off in the shower, and that was it."

Taehyung gasps from Hoseok's right, and everyone turns their attention to him.

"What if he has a camera in his shower?"

Hoseok scoffs and rolls his eyes, though the thought settles like bile in his guts. 

"He does not have a camera in his shower," Jeongguk mutters, almost defensively, and Hoseok takes another sip of beer. "He's not a sexual predator, he's just...sly. And conniving."

"Lovely," Hoseok grumbles, causing Jimin to laugh.

"So was he charming?" Jimin asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

"No," Hoseok responds plainly. "He was kind of an asshole."

Jimin gasps. "He what?"

"I mean, I don't know. I don't think I get his sense of humor. He's kind of dry and comes off as a little cold."

"But he offered to let you see the photographs?" Jeongguk asks.

"Yeah. Why?"

Jeongguk shrugs and takes a drink of his beer, and Hoseok pushes against his arm, nearly causing him to spill.

"Why, Ggukie," he presses.

Another shrug, and Jeongguk mutters, "Just not something he typically does."

There is a sadness in Jeongguk's tone that does not go unnoticed, but Hoseok has no idea what to say to him, so he shrugs and acts indifferent. Anything to change the vibe. 

Because, really, he does not want to make his friend feel sad, and he definitely does not want him to feel replaced, despite that absolutely being the goal before. But it is hard not to talk about Yoongi when Hoseok now works for him and everyone seems so keen on hearing all about it. 

“He never went through your photos with you?” Jimin asks Jeongguk, and Hoseok fights the urge to reach over the table and slap him. 

Instead, he opens his eyes wide and makes a faint shake of his head to tell Jimin not to go there. Jimin simply rolls his eyes, turning his gaze back to Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk shrugs – apparently this is his thing tonight – and mutters, “Not at first. Only once he started trying to get to know me better. He used it as a tactic to flirt and compliment me."

Hoseok makes the mistake of taking another sip of his beer, and at the notion of Min-stoic-Yoongi flirting, he nearly shoots the carbonated beverage through his nose. Instead, a scoff lodges the liquid into his nasal cavity, and Hoseok begins to cough, slamming his beer down on the table and slapping himself in the chest. When he finally has enough wits about him, all he can do is laugh, feeling tears break from the lines of his eyes while remnants of beer burn his nasal cavity.

“Nice work, you nearly killed Hoseok,” Taehyung whines, pointing a hand over the table. 

“Sorry,” Hoseok rasps, throat absolutely wrecked. “The idea of Yoongi flirting made me choke.”

A loud, almost defensive scoff comes from Jeongguk. “You have no idea. Seriously, watch out for him.”

And although Hoseok can recall at least one moment where Yoongi’s voice had taken on a soft, inviting tone, it is overshadowed by him being a snarky pain in the ass.

“Whatever you say, Ggukie.”

 * * *

Hoseok wakes up hungover to the sound of his phone dinging with a new text message. He has been hitting snooze for the last forty-five minutes, and he groans as he reaches for his phone, squinting his eyes open. 

The sun shines into his large window way too brightly despite the powder blue curtains hanging over them, and he curses himself for choosing something cute yet impractical, as always.

Hoseok is not surprised when he clicks on his phone screen to find that it is already past eleven in the morning. But he is surprised to find a text from an unknown number. 

[unknown] Hoseok-ssi, it’s Yoongi. Meet me for dinner at 4? We need to discuss the cover. 

A dissatisfied grumble rocks through Hoseok at the thought of meeting Yoongi for dinner, but his traitor of a stomach rumbles hungrily. As he saves Yoongi’s number to his contacts, he wonders what kind of posh, penthouse steak joint he will be rolling up to. Already, outfit after outfit comes to mind, and he even considers a nice silk gown and a string of pearls. 

Hoseok Sure. Where?

Because the thing about men like Yoongi – assholes with a wallet as thick as their reputation is dirty – they are suckers for a pretty face accentuated by pearls. 

Min Asshole I’ll have a driver go get you at 3:45. I know a little spot nearby. Don’t dress up. It’s not that kind of date. 

Date. Hoseok scoffs. The nerve of this man. 

Hoseok So I should wear a hoodie and ripped jeans? Got it. 

Min Asshole Knock yourself out. 

“Fucking hate this guy,” Hoseok mutters as he tosses his sunshine yellow duvet aside and swings his legs over the edge of his bed. 

He has half a mind to dress as posh as possible for the so-called date just to piss Yoongi off, and he hums a misplaced tune to himself as he stumbles toward his walk-in closet, looking for the perfect fit. 

 * * *

"So, let me get this straight," Jimin says with his lips hanging slightly open, gazing down at Hoseok as he presses the final fake eyelash in place. "You are dressing up to meet with a man who you despise – who told you not to dress up – because you want to...what? Rub yourself in his face?"

"Phrasing," Hoseok mumbles, realizing too late how silly it seems when spoken aloud as he adds, "But yes. That is the plan."

"Sounds to me like you want him to want you."

"I don't w—" Hoseok slaps Jimin's hand away and sits up, assessing himself in the mirror. "I'm just being playful," he continues, looking at Jimin through the mirror and batting his accentuated eyelashes. "Can't I be playful?"

"Do whatever you want, Seokie," Jimin says while mussing Hoseok's hair in his fingertips, giving it some volume. "Just be careful. I know Jeonggukie is probably laying the warnings on thick because he feels some sort of way about being cast aside, but the man does have a reputation."

"I am not trying to fuck him," Hoseok insists, giving Jimin's reflection a stern look.

With a roll of his eyes, Jimin says, "I hear he's hot, so if you do, I wouldn't blame you. Just don't catch feelings."

"I'm not—"

Jimin holds up one hand and closes his eyes. "I said what I said."

Hoseok absolutely does not plan to fuck Min Yoongi. 

Yes, the man is hot. And rich. And influential. And he smells like a spring morning just before it rains. And he has two tiny moles on his nose and cheek and a deep, alluring voice. But he is the enemy. 

“All done?” Jimin asks, and Hoseok breaks from his thoughts to look over his reflection. 

His hair is wavy and a little messy – hinging perfectly between looking unkempt and intentional – and Jimin has affixed false lashes that are only slightly longer than his naturals, with a dusting of gold shadow on his lids, which has been dabbed brighter in the creases. 

Rather than wear a satin gown and pearls, Hoseok decides on a black blazer with a deep neck, a black mesh shirt, and black slacks. Elegant enough for a hip, seafood spot and casual enough for a small sushi haunt. He considers jewelry, running his fingertips over a white gold chain link necklace, but ultimately decides not to overdo it. 

At 3:45 pm on the dot, Hoseok receives a text from another unknown number, telling him that his ride has arrived, and he kisses Jimin goodbye – two quick pecks on each cheek – as he slides his feet into platform black sneakers and makes his way down the hallway, down a short flight of stairs, and out the door, shouting at Jimin to stay the hell out of his closet.  

A black sedan waits on the curb, and Hoseok wonders if it is just Yoongi being a silly goose and pretending to be a driver. But as Hoseok approaches, he sees a different familiar face and tenses up. 

Seokjin rolls down the window, gives Hoseok a once-over, and smirks. “Getting in or what?”

Hoseok bends at the waist to look into the window. “What’s the protocol? Am I supposed to ride in the front or the back?”

Seokjin – eternally unamused – raises an eyebrow and says, “I don’t give a fuck, just get in the car.”

With a huff, Hoseok straightens out and gets into the front seat. He likes Seokjin’s attitude and has a feeling his presence might be just annoying enough to get another rise out of him on the way to the restaurant. 

Turns out, however, Seokjin is even more stoic than Yoongi. He hardly acknowledges Hoseok beyond grunts and hums, and only cracks a measly smile when they pull up to the restaurant as he says, “Enjoy!”

Hoseok may not know Seokjin well, but he can spot mischief, and that man’s smile is nothing if not mischievous. 

Still, Hoseok says, “Thanks, I probably won’t!” with his chin held high, because nobody gets the last laugh but him. 

As Hoseok clambers out of the sedan and turns to the building on his right, realization hits. The spot Yoongi invited him to is a tiny hole-in-wall pizzeria. Hoseok turns back to Seokjin with his eyebrows raised, silently asking if this is seriously the spot, and is met by an amused Seokjin waving his fingers at Hoseok as if to encourage him to go inside. 

With a deep, fortifying breath, Hoseok turns back toward the building, holds his chest high, and opens the door to the restaurant. Immediately, he is hit by an overwhelming scent of cheese, herbs, and roasted tomatoes, and he pauses in the entrance to glance around, feeling incredibly overdressed. 

A spot like this does not have a host stand, but, luckily it is small enough that one quick glimpse around the place shows his dinner date in a booth, in the back. Hoseok walks past Yoongi and slides into the booth before him, doing his best not to notice the way Yoongi’s eyes rise, take in his appearance, and then drop back to the phone in his hands. He has a mask over his mouth, which he tucks under his chin.

“I told you not to dress up,” Yoongi mutters in a gravely deadpan. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t.”

Seconds pass as Yoongi types something out, then he sets his phone face down on the table beside him and picks up a menu. His hair is wild, hanging in his eyes, and he wears a simple black long-sleeve tee with a hint of a gold chain around his neck. 

“Do you have dietary restrictions?”

Hoseok, who pretends to read over the menu but finds it too overwhelming, says, “No.”

Yoongi hums. “There’s a loaded potato pie that’s really good. Has bacon and shit. I usually get that, if you’re not sure what to order.”

Despite Yoongi’s voice giving off absolutely no hint that he actually does like the pizza he describes, Hoseok is sold. He glances over the description on the menu, and likes the way it looks.

“Sounds good. I’ll try that.”

“Beer?”

A beer would certainly help placate the hangover that lingers, making Hoseok feel fussy and antsy.

“Beer sounds good.”

Yoongi calls over a server, places their order, then sits back and finally gives Hoseok his full attention. His eyes rove Hoseok’s face and chest, then he smirks softly. 

“This is you not dressed up?”

A hint of playfulness sneaks through the raspy indifference, and Hoseok considers it a win. 

“Okay, I’m a tiny bit dressed up,” Hoseok admits, reveling in how the corner of Yoongi’s mouth quirks up ever so slightly. “I always do a little something, though; I didn’t dress this way just for you.”

Yoongi folds his hands over the table and leans in close, smirking. “Why would you dress up for me?”

Heat rises to Hoseok’s cheeks and he rolls his eyes and looks away, to the ugly exposed brick walls and the server wearing a garish, bright green smock. He shrugs and mutters, “Excuse me for liking to make a decent first impression.”

“You interviewed with my company and stood for photos. This is hardly your first impression.”

Hoseok slowly intakes a deep breath and makes eye contact with the man across from him whose smirk is still plastered over his stupid pretty face.

“You’re insufferable.”

Yoongi’s smile widens into a grin, and as he mutters, “I know,” the server drops off two heavy mugs of beer. 

There is undeniably something about the way Yoongi’s lips curl and his eyes pierce that makes Hoseok feel small under his gaze. He wonders if he had the same effect on Jeongguk – someone who is at least a few inches taller than Yoongi. 

Ordinarily, Hoseok would stare back – give just as intense eye contact and form his lips into an equally enticing smirk – but he finds it difficult to hold Yoongi’s gaze for longer than a few seconds, and even shifts in his seat as he picks up his glass to take a drink. 

The beer is somewhat darker than Hoseok usually drinks, coating his tongue in a heady mix of malt and hops. He stares ahead and takes another drink, then sets it down. 

“I was hoping to shoot you again for the cover,” Yoongi says as he lifts his beer to his lips and takes a sip. Hoseok looks up in time to watch Yoongi’s eyelashes flutter closed for just a split second as he savors the taste, and he instantly averts his eyes to the worn, wooden tabletop. 

“I thought you said the shots we did were good,” Hoseok responds, unable to hide the slight tremble in his voice. 

Yoongi sets his glass down, and Hoseok nervously looks up to find Yoongi studying him with a somewhat calm, unreadable expression. 

“What I said was that you are a natural,” Yoongi corrects. “And by that, I meant that the photos we took were great. Not good. Never let anyone tell you that you are simply good.”

“Oh—okay.”

“I want to reshoot with the same makeup, but in more playful lighting. Pinks, blues...something more dynamic. Something that takes your greatness and makes it show-stopping. Understood?”

Yoongi thinks Hoseok has the ability to be show-stopping, and that fact alone has Hoseok's heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“Uh-understood.”

“Good,” Yoongi says, then he cocks an eyebrow, and adds, “I mean, great.” 

Hoseok clears his throat, and before he can stop himself, he says, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Yoongi asks, lifting his glass once more to take a drink. 

“For believing in me. Nobody has ever called me show-stopping before.”

“Well, the audition photos you sent me were far from remarkable,” Yoongi brazenly states as he tongues the inside of his mouth. 

Hoseok gasps and considers throwing his beer on Yoongi, but Yoongi chuckles and shakes his head as he continues. 

“You were stunning – are stunning. You aren't the problem. Some photographers just don’t have an eye for beauty and they miss it. The makeup and outfits were lackluster, the lighting wasn’t perfect." 

When Hoseok says nothing, Yoongi continues, "Nobody has given you the chance to be show-stopping, is what I mean. But with me calling the shots, you will blow everyone away – mark my words.”

The server returns and sets a steaming hot pizza in front of them, but all Hoseok can do is stare at Yoongi and attempt to let everything he just said settle. 

“Are you free tonight?” Yoongi asks, pulling Hoseok from his reverie. 

He struggles to form a cohesive thought and blurts out, “Huh?” forgetting what they had been talking about. 

“To shoot a few more photos for the cover,” Yoongi says, reaching for a slice of pizza. “Namjoon’s schedule is clear and he can meet us at my studio, but only if you’re free. Otherwise, maybe tomorrow, or—“

“I’m free tonight,” Hoseok responds quickly. 

He finds himself having to instantly look away when Yoongi smiles widely, showing off pretty pink gums as he says, “Great.”

 * * *

Hoseok is full when he climbs into Yoongi’s black sedan, and he groans as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Too much pizza and beer,” he whines. “I’ve never had a photographer feed me so well.”

Yoongi shifts himself to face Hoseok once his seatbelt is fastened. “You don’t have any disordered eating habits, do you?”

“No,” Hoseok responds with a chuckle. “No, I’m blessed with a good metabolism. And I dance a lot in my free time, so I'm usually pretty good at holding a steady weight.”

“That’s good. I like my models to be nice and healthy. But if you do form any bad habits, I have a specialist on call who can help out with that.”

The concern in Yoongi’s voice takes Hoseok by surprise. Of course, his income hinges on hiring models who can perform, but typically, photographers do not care about their health. If anything, many of the people he has worked for have encouraged him to skip meals. 

“I appreciate it, but there is really no need,” Hoseok mutters as he fidgets with his hands on his lap. Eager to change the topic, he says, “You mentioned before that my previous outfits weren’t that great, but need I remind you that I only wore paint in many of the shots you took.”

Yoongi reaches behind Hoseok’s seat and glances through the rear window as he reverses just enough to put space between his vehicle and the one in front of his. Then, he stops, turns his attention to Hoseok, and says, “You would be show-stopping fully nude.”

At this, Hoseok turns his head and stares out of the passenger side window. He can feel Yoongi hovering still – can smell the dewy spring morning scent that is him. 

Yoongi shifts gears, straightens out, and adds, “Under the right lighting, of course,” then pulls away from the curb, and all Hoseok can do is scoff. The absolute nerve of this man. 

Hoseok SOS 

Jimin OMG what happened? Where did he take you? Do I need to call in reinforcements??? 

Hoseok Wow, no, my god. He’s just being very flirtatious, and it’s making me panic. 

Jimin He flirted??? You are in trouble. How did it make you feel?

Hoseok I don’t know. Tingly. Excited. 

Jimin !!!

Hoseok Not because it’s him! Okay! I am but a simple slut who enjoys being complimented. That is all. 

Jimin Oh god, you’re gonna fuck him, aren’t you? Honestly, I support your decision either way. 

Hoseok I am NOT going to fuck him, I just needed a distraction from his sly words and his deep, gravely voice. Thank you for your unbridled chaos, it helped. 

Jimin Any time. But listen: if you DO fuck him, please report back because I need to know what the fuss is. Like…maybe his dick is made of gold or something. Jeongguk won't say a peep about it, so this is all on you. Give me every detail, baby! Every detail!

Hoseok Wow! Okay, bye!!!

Jimin EVERY DETAIL!!!

“We’re here,” Yoongi grumbles, and Hoseok looks up from his phone with a start. 

Here they are, parked outside the same apartment building as yesterday. The only shred of hope that Hoseok has left is knowing that Namjoon will also be here. Because if Hoseok is being honest with himself, he knows that there is absolutely no way in hell he would stop Yoongi’s advances – should he make any. 

This is bad. This is real bad. 

As they get out of the vehicle and approach the building, Yoongi takes the lead, and Hoseok regrettably lets his eyes fall to a very perky, very round butt. He makes a mental note to never walk behind Yoongi while he is wearing slacks, and fails several times to keep his gaze from wandering. If he manages to hold himself back from blurting out his findings to Jeongguk next time they are drunk, it will be a miracle. 

Once inside, Hoseok steps in line on the way to the elevator, making it impossible to sneak a glance. They enter the elevator, and Yoongi uses a key to gain access to floor five. 

“I need to run to the penthouse for a moment,” he says, turning to Hoseok. “You’re welcome to wait in the studio level if you would prefer.”

Hoseok absolutely does prefer that option, and he nods and says, “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Yoongi responds as he holds the card up once more and presses the button for the fourth floor. 

As soon as the elevator dings and the doors slide open, Hoseok steps eagerly into the hallway and ignores the overwhelming scent of Yoongi's musk as he leans in close and punches in the code for his studio. Once the door opens, Hoseok lunges inside, glancing only briefly over his shoulder to wave to Yoongi as the door closes, then he kicks off his sneakers and makes his way to the couch to sit stiff as a board in the exact spot he sat last time. 

Hoseok He invited me to his apartment!!! But I chickened out and told him I wanted to wait in the studio instead. 

Jimin I knew you were weak. 

Hoseok Thanks for the vote of confidence. 

Jimin Wait, where is his studio? Connected to his house?

Hoseok He lives in a fifth-floor penthouse up on the hill, and his studio is on the fourth floor. 

Jimin Daaaang. This man is made of money. Definitely let him fuck you, then! Maybe he’ll take you out to nice restaurants. 

Hoseok Pretty sure he never took Jeongguk to nice restaurants. He never let the public know they were more than boss and employee. 

Jimin That’s right, I forget what a player he is. Asshole.

Hoseok Seriously.

The elevator door dings, followed by the sound of the keypad, and Hoseok looks up with a gasp, expecting his mortal enemy – correction: his mortal enemy who, evidently, has a fat ass – to come stepping through the large, wooden door. Instead, Namjoon walks in, head to toe in blue denim with a dopey smile on his face. 

Hoseok stands to welcome Namjoon, holding his arms out wide, and Namjoon sets down his black makeup bag, steps out of his white sneakers, and meets Hoseok halfway for a very gentle, somewhat awkward hug.

"Finally, someone whose personality doesn't give me fucking whiplash," Hoseok mutters as they break from the hug.

Namjoon laughs, pretty dimples poking into his cheeks, and shakes his head. "I take it you haven't let him charm you, then?"

"Charm me?" Hoseok all but shouts. "Please. That man is as charming as a sponge."

Just then, the elevator dings, the keypad beeps, and in walks Yoongi, changed from the long-sleeved shirt into a short-sleeved black tee, which he has the decency to keep untucked. He steps out of his sneakers and waves his arm for Hoseok and Namjoon to follow him as he goes straight into the room Hoseok assumes is his studio. 

Namjoon grabs his black bag, and Hoseok follows suit, into the room. Already, Yoongi is setting up lights in pink, blue, and yellow in an otherwise dim room, and pointing them at the far wall. There is a makeup vanity near the door, which Namjoon turns on, illuminating the rectangular mirror with bright lights, and Hoseok has a seat in the chair in front of it. 

"Hoseok," Yoongi calls, and Hoseok hums in response, looking at him through the mirror. "How would you feel about shooting in what you're wearing now?"

"This?" Hoseok asks, looking down at his outfit. He did wear it with intention, but even he has to admit, the look is a bit plain.

"Once Namjoon does your hair and makeup, maybe we can test some shots?"

Hoseok shrugs, holding back a smile. Yoongi likes the outfit he picked enough to want to photograph him in it, and Hoseok feels ecstatic.

He keeps his tone flat as he says, "Whatever you want, boss."

Namjoon works magic on Hoseok, crimping his hair just as he had the other day, and applying makeup in a nearly identical fashion. Hoseok apologizes as Namjoon delicately peels away the false lashes, but Namjoon just smiles, unbothered. 

Once Namjoon is finished, Hoseok stands from his chair and turns to Yoongi, who approaches with several rectangular black velvet boxes. He opens one of the boxes, and Hoseok gasps at the sight of rainbow-color Cuban links.

"I thought this would look nice over the mesh top," Yoongi grumbles as Namjoon reaches for the necklace and pulls it out. 

"Let's find out," Namjoon says as he gently places it on Hoseok's neck, then fastens the clasp.

Hoseok nearly dies when he looks at his reflection, and he resists the urge to reach up and touch the shiny metal with his fingertips. The weight of the necklace is heavy, but the look is sleek and elegant, and Hoseok cannot pull his eyes away from it. 

"Come into the light," Yoongi says, and Hoseok does a double take in the mirror between Yoongi's reflection and the jewelry. 

"Sure," he mutters as he turns away and walks over to where Yoongi has several lights pointed. 

Without giving a word of direction, Yoongi begins to shoot, and Hoseok takes the cue and poses. First, he tilts his head to elongate his neck, then he straightens his spine and looks directly into the lens. Yoongi must be pleased because he steps forward and quickly captures the same pose several times before Hoseok switches. 

They go on like this for several minutes until Yoongi finally says, "Put your hands into your hair. Loosely, but with an expression somewhere between exasperation and anger."

Hoseok does as he is told and puts both hands into his hair, then makes several expressions of varying degrees of frustration. 

"Now soft," Yoongi says. "Like you've found something you didn't know you needed and it is all you can think about."

Hoseok's heart goes into overdrive, and he swallows thickly. Then, feeling himself soften, he makes shy glances at the camera, but ultimately, turns his gaze away. For some inexplicable reason, he feels the urge to cry.

"Incredible," Yoongi mutters. 

"Can we remove the jacket?" Namjoon asks, and Hoseok stands up straight, yanked from the mindset he was just in, and nods. 

As Hoseok begins to unbutton the jacket, Namjoon approaches with a comb and gently moves strands of hair into place. Then, he stands back, takes the jacket, and looks Hoseok up and down. The black mesh shirt is a long-sleeve, tucked into black slacks that are just loose enough on the leg to give a retro look, but without compromising Hoseok's slender shape. 

"Have you considered getting your belly button pierced?" Namjoon asks, and Hoseok feels himself begin to blush.

"I have."

"You should," Yoongi grumbles, and Hoseok ignores the fluttering of his heart. 

"I'm afraid of needles, though," Hoseok says, suddenly feeling sheepish.

Yoongi chuckles. "It's not so bad. Joonie and I will hold your hand."

Yoongi's hands are the last thing Hoseok wants on his mind, and he cannot help but gaze at them as Namjoon gently moves the neck of Hoseok's shirt and smooths his hands over his shoulders, then backs up to assess the overall look. 

Yoongi delicately taps and flicks the various buttons and wheels on the camera with his long, knobby fingers, and it is all Hoseok can do not to picture those fingers doing terrible, wonderful things to him.

"The different lights reflect beautifully off the necklace," Namjoon says.

"There is a bracelet too," Yoongi responds, nodding his head to where he left more small boxes on the vanity. "Maybe put one on him, in case it shows up in a shot." 

As Namjoon walks to retrieve the bracelet, Yoongi begins to shoot again, and Hoseok returns to his poses and practiced facial expressions. It feels natural to move every five or six clicks of the shutter, and Yoongi seems to have picked up on his rhythm, stepping forward and back every so often to capture slightly different angles of the same pose. 

When Namjoon returns, Yoongi only pauses long enough to let him fasten a matching bracelet to Hoseok's wrist, and then he is back to shooting. Within a matter of minutes, Yoongi drops his arms to his sides and nods his head as if he is satisfied with another day's work.

"Let's go have a seat and take a look?" Yoongi suggests, and Hoseok nods and waits for the two of them to move, then follows behind them, leaving the studio area and approaching the same large leather couch.

Namjoon hovers around the back of the sofa while Yoongi takes a seat. Hoseok hesitates, but Yoongi pats the cushion beside him and beckons Hoseok over, so he does as he is told, and sits. 

Yoongi's musk hits Hoseok instantly, and he adjusts in his seat, wiggling ever so slightly as if a war is waging inside him to either scoot away or get closer to the scent that is heaven and hell, all at once.

As Yoongi clicks through the photographs, Hoseok feels pride bloom in his chest. He looks stunning. 

Namjoon's makeup and hair styling play a role, but even so, his expressions and the way he carries himself through each pose is profound without trying too hard. Never has Hoseok seen himself quite like this before.

"I love these," Hoseok mutters. "We did great."

"We sure did," Namjoon says behind them, placing a hand on Hoseok's shoulder. "If you're happy with the outcome, I'm going to head out, then."

Yoongi hums and nods, flicking his wrist up into a half-wave while his attention stays focused on the camera. Hoseok turns to wave Namjoon a proper goodbye, then continues looking at the photos while Namjoon returns to the other room to gather his things, then fetches his shoes, and exits. 

The silence that hangs feels heavy, and suddenly, Hoseok does not want to be this close to Yoongi. Suddenly, Hoseok wants to get up and get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. And when Yoongi turns to him with a soft smile and piercing gaze, a swarm of butterflies kicks up in Hoseok's stomach, threatening to make him vomit. 

"I told you," Yoongi grumbles. "Showstopper Seok."

The nickname is unexpected, and Hoseok holds his breath, for fear of gasping. Yoongi has stopped on a photo of Hoseok with the blazer off, and he is bent at a slight angle that shows off his taut muscles, flexing beneath the fabric. Despite having been painted with Yoongi's bare hands, and standing before him in only his briefs during their first shoot, seeing himself like this, with Yoongi's attention turned to him, makes him feel exposed.

"You're the one working all the magic," Hoseok responds shyly. "Look at how perfectly lit this is. Magic Min."

Yoongi chuckles quietly, then proceeds to click through more photos, but all Hoseok can look at is Yoongi. The gentle way his brow furrows as he looks over his work. The way his nose swoops slightly into a cute, round button – soft and delicate against the sharper lines of his eyes and upper lip.

"Thank you," Hoseok says softly, nearly a whisper, and he lets his eyes fall to Yoongi's mouth as the man smiles.

"I'll send you proofs within the next twenty-four hours, and you'll be paid for your time today, including dinner."

Hoseok finds this information surprising and shakes his head. "Are you sure? The dinner doesn't have to count."

Yoongi holds up his hand to shush Hoseok, who clamps his mouth shut.

"Never turn down payment. If a man offers you money for sitting in his presence, take it. You're worth it."

"Oh," Hoseok mutters. 

"Now, let's get you home, shall we?"

Hoseok feels lightheaded as he stands, and he stumbles over to the entrance in a bit of a daze. Namjoon had grabbed Hoseok's blazer and hung it near the door before he left, and Hoseok grabs it, wraps it tight around himself, and steps haphazardly into his platform sneakers, ignoring how the backs bend and get in the way of allowing his foot full access. 

The ride down the elevator is silent, and the ride back to Hoseok's apartment has only the soft soundtrack of the radio; nobody says a word. It is only once they pull up to the curb that Yoongi twists, reaches a hand to gently touch Hoseok's knee, and says, "Thank you for today."

This moment feels far too intimate for Hoseok's liking, and he clears his throat and shrugs.

"Don't sweat it. I had fun! And any excuse to see Namjoon's dimples is a bonus."

Yoongi chuckles, gives Hoseok's knee a gentle squeeze, and moves his hand away. Warmth continues to radiate on the spot where he touched, and Hoseok stares for just a moment, considering the implications of how he feels. 

"Joonie does have cute dimples," Yoongi responds, sounding almost amused. 

Silence hangs, and Hoseok waits for a beat before unfastening his seatbelt.

"Okay, well, I should get going—"

"Yes, get some rest, and I'll—"

"—but thanks for everything, it was—"

"—be in touch."

"—a lot of fun."

Hoseok looks away, opens the door, and steps out. He turns back to Yoongi, leaning into the open doorway, wanting to say more to him, only to find that nothing comes out. 

Yoongi leans down and says, "Take it easy, showstopper," and Hoseok smiles, shuts the door, and turns to his apartment. He does not look back to see if Yoongi is still there as he enters the building. 

And later, when his phone buzzes with texts from curious friends demanding details, Hoseok ignores them, only catching a glimpse of Jimin's chaotic emoji spam before he changes a certain someone's name in his contact list to Magic Min.

“Fuck,” Hoseok mutters to himself, under his breath. “I’m in trouble.” 

🎵 it’s only just a dream

in college, i had some photography classes and the one time i posed for another student, he grumbled about my eyelids being two different shapes while looking through closeup shots he had taken, and i have carried that memory for many years lmao. also, yes, the gold paint scene was inspired by Neon Demon lol don't perceive me.

tags: @btsstan12 @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13​ @giriiboyy​ @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki 📸 this is a limited run fic, but if you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment or dm!

INDEX | NEXT

Showstopper is copyright 2022 - 2024 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[byuljoonie]

Yoongi story is posted! Namseok story coming next Sunday and please feel free to start submitting requests, preferably through the link in my bio! Good night beautiful ppl🫡 -dubu

[sope-and-shine]

Feelings In Major - Part 3

-> PAIRING: PIANIST!YOONGI X VIOLINIST!READER -> SFW(PG-13) // FLUFF, ANGST // S2L -> WORD COUNT: 10.8K -> SUMMARY: IN A KINGDOM WHERE MUSIC RINGS FROM THE LOWEST DUNGEON TO THE FARTHEST MOUNTAIN PEAK, IT’S NO SURPRISE THAT EVERYONE WANTS A CHANCE TO PLAY FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY. HOWEVER, ONLY ONE CAN BE CHOSEN, AND THE ROYAL MUSICIANS WERE THE BEST OF THE BEST. THE ONLY OBSTACLE THAT STANDS BETWEEN YOU AND BEING ONE OF THEM, IS YOUR COMPETITION AND YOUR STAGE FRIGHT. IT WILL TAKE A MIRACLE TO GET YOU ON THAT STAGE…OR JUST A GRUMPY PIANO PLAYER. -> WARNING(S): FEM READER, MILD LANGUAGE, MILD VIOLENCE, IRRATIONAL MEN, READER HAS IMPLIED THOUGHTS OF SA TOWARDS YOONGI’S INTENTIONS AT FIRST(YOONGI IS A GOOD GUY - THE BEST GUY - NO WORRIES, NOTHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS), SELF DOUBT, YOUR DAD IS A BIT OF A DICK

a/n when I started this idea over a year ago, I did not anticipate actually getting to the part where I post it. I still have 6 of these to go, but I’m honestly really proud that I’ve actually done this.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Masterlist

*

*

*

Most brides when they see the white of their dress think of the new chapter in their life they’re about to begin. They think of this light washing over them that greets them into the world of marriage. They think of all the possibilities the future holds in store for them. But you don’t think of any of those things. You can only think of one thing when you see the color of your dress.

Piano keys.

You can see them laid out in front of you, playing along to a melody that has only seemed to become softer as the days go on. They’re played by long, slender fingers your hands have become so used to holding. You think of how soft they are, how they envelope your own. You think of the way they write on parchment, discarding one sheet after another. 

You think of him.

Yoongi.

The man who you’ve slowly fallen in love with.

The man you’re not marrying today.

“Alright, the guests were finally able to make it through the square. We’ll give them a few moments and then we’ll join them.” Your Father explains as he enters the room. He’s wearing his best, and he stops as soon as he sees you dressed and ready to go, “Oh, you look beautiful.”

He places a hand on each of your shoulders with a proud, adoring smile, but you don’t even recognize your reflection in the mirror. The lace gown is only just nicer than regular formal wear, something your parents splurged on for your big day. It’s collar just shows off the top of your chest, a simple, ornate necklace on display. You can see it just through the veil that’s been drawn over your front. You look exactly how a bride should look on her wedding day, but you don’t feel how a bride should. You should be beaming and jumping in excitement, but you aren’t.

Nothing about today is for you.

“Thank you.” You try your best to seem happy and content, but it’s hard when you’re only moments away from sealing the rest of your future. Your Father can see right through you.

He moves a hand to your face and moves a stray strand behind your ear, “Dear, you’re getting married. You should look happy.”

“I am happy.” You assure him, but your words are empty.

He shakes his head, “You don’t look it.”

“Well, I’d be much happier if I wasn’t being forced to marry someone.” You mumble, intending to keep it to yourself, but he heard you.

“We had a deal-” It��s not the first time he’s tried to defend his decisions to you in the past month. He’s started a million explanations this way, and you’re tired of hearing him try to win your favor! You’re tired of him casting your feelings aside! You’re tired of him acting as though he did nothing wrong at all!

“-and you broke that deal the minute you broke my violin!” You interrupt, blowing up in anger. Your Father takes a step back, surprised by your outburst. You’ve never been one to outwardly express your anger, and even when you have in the past, it’s never been this extreme. You’ve always been soft spoken and precise, saying what you needed to and then remaining neutral. But there’s only so much one person can handle, “You didn’t even give me a chance…”

He tongues the inside of his cheek, “We gave you plenty of chances. You didn’t take them.” 

“You didn’t listen!” 

“You were fooling around with a man who wasn’t your husband, like some harlot! He wasn’t even courting you!” He scolds, reminding you of the position you put yourself in. At least in his eyes, that’s the way it seemed.

“He was helping me!” You argue, a defense you’ve been pushing ever since that day they found you and Yoongi. But he hasn’t listened to you yet, and he won’t be starting now.

Your Father scoffs, “Oh, it looked like he was helping you, alright.” 

You say nothing in response. You always lose your words when it comes to him, because no argument you make will ever be good enough for him to ever listen to you. And what hurts more is that he won’t even take your character, one he’s watched grow since you were a baby into account for everything. He’s thrown your happiness out the window, and he’s throwing you out with it as well.

He takes your silence as a win and sighs, “I’m done talking about what’s in the past.” He reaches for the veil atop your head and pulls it over your face, “You’re getting married to Lord Kang, and then you can get over this.”

“So, my happiness means nothing to you anymore?” You ask, your numb gaze barely hidden by the curtain he’s placed between the two of you. A symbol of the wall he continues to create to push you further and further away.

He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops himself. Instead, he fixes his posture, “I won’t hear any more nonsense from you.” He takes your arm in his and pulls you to his side, holding tightly to your arm as if he’s afraid you’ll run away at any given moment, “Now, I better see a smile on your face when we make it to the church.”

“Whatever you say, Father.” You answer in a monotonous tone, casting your head to the door and your eyes to your feet.

The way to the church should be happy. It should be exciting and leave you giddy because you’re just teeming with excitement to spend the rest of your life with someone you love! But the walk from your home to the church feels like a walk to the gallows. You feel as though once that ring is placed on your finger, you’ll have the carpet ripped out from under you. What makes it even worse is the joyous cheering from the competition. You can hear the crowd as they cheer and clap, and you listen as they welcome their next performer. You listen as the song starts, and it’s the 5th selection. It’s the piece you’d wanted to play so badly at first, but Yoonig forbid you from playing it. He said it was too easy, too safe, and too expected. He said that too many people would play it, and it didn’t matter how beautiful it was. He said that after hearing it so many times, the crowd would dull like a blade. And with every step, you come to realize just how right he was.

It’s repetitive, plain, and boring. It doesn’t give life or variety. It’s just a simple melody that everyone knows. It’s something familiar that you enjoy, but it’s nothing new. Even when someone else plays it, it’s still the same melody and adds nothing to the selection of musicians. It’s a safe option, but it’s not the best option. But it’s far too late to back out now.

For you and the performer both.

Part of you is glad that, at least if you’re being forced to do this, that you at least have your Father to hold onto. You still have him there to keep you grounded, even if you’re still furious with him for the choices that have led you both here. It’s hard holding back your tears, but they threaten you with every step you take towards your fiancé. With every step, you leave behind the life you want for a life that you can never get rid of.

“And who gives this woman away?” The priest asks when you make it to the end of the aisle.

“I do.” Your Father answers. He reaches out for Lord Kang’s hand and pulls you toward him, bringing your hands together for him to lead you the rest of the way to the altar.

“Very good. You may all be seated.” You hear everyone move to sit behind you, your Father joining them as well. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we gather here today to join these two in Holy Matrimony. Now, before we begin, if there is anyone here with reason as to why these two should not be wed, then you may speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You hold your breath, knowing that if you let it out too soon that you may be the person to object your wedding. You instead busy yourself in the silence of the room, waiting eagerly for someone to interrupt it or for the priest to make it end. Outside, you can hear the muffled cheers of the crowd dying down as the next musician begins to play. It’s one of the more exciting pieces from the competition list. Your second choice that Yoongi was a bit more understanding of, but it still didn’t please his taste. Oh, what you would give to play it now.

“If no one has any objections, then we may proceed.” The priest announces after giving everyone ample time to come forward. You let go of the breath you were holding, but it gets caught in your throat again, “Lord Kang, please repeat after me: I, Lord Kan-“ 

“STOP!” 

You turn as soon as you hear his voice, gasps leaving the crowd behind you. Jogging up the aisle, dressed in his performance clothing of the Royal Musicians with his hair combed back is Yoongi. It’s a bit messy and he’s out of breath, almost as if he ran all the way here. At his side, he carries a case. He stops just at the steps of the altar and takes a deep breath, “Stop the wedding. Please.”

The priest takes a hesitant glance between you and your betrothed and Yoongi, “Sir-“

“I object this wedding!” Yoongi interrupts, eyes so fierce with determination, he even takes you by surprise.

Lord Kang scoffs next to you, “On what grounds?” He looks Yoongi up and down as if he’s a child, looking down on him. He doesn’t seem convinced that Yoongi has any reasonable grounds for objecting. And he has good reason to be skeptical, because Yoongi has no ground to object.

Yoongi sees this and his lip quirks in a smug grin. He meets your eyes and points to you with his free hand, “On the grounds that this woman is already married to me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, knowing very well that you and Yoongi never once uttered any marriage vows to each other. You look to your parents to see their reactions, and they look just as shocked as you feel. Your Mother seems almost heartbroken, and you can’t even begin to imagine what must be going through her head. Much less, you can’t imagine what’s playing behind your Father’s eyes.

A strong hand grips your bicep, Lord Kang pulling you towards him. His eyes are like daggers as he scowls at you, “What is he talking about?”

In this situation, what are you to say? That you don’t know why he’s talking about and continue on? To accept this as a sign of fate and run away? You have no good explanation for what Yoongi’s doing right now. Much less an idea of where to begin with them throwing you on the spot.

You shake your head and try to pull yourself out of his grasp, “I-“

“Get your hands off her, at once!” Yoongi demands, storming up the small staircase and pushing himself between you and your betrothed. He stands tall with his back straight, his arm thrown over your arm that’s been grabbed. He acts as a barrier between you and Lord Kang, ensuring that even if he were to pull you, you’d still bump into him before he could run off with you.

Lord Kang cranes himself over Yoongi, attempting to intimidate him with his size, “You dare try to stand between me and my bride?”

You grab onto the back of Yoongi’s coat with your free hand, scared that Lord Kang really will attempt to pull you from behind him. Or worse, he’ll try to hurt Yoongi just to get to you. But Yoongi doesn’t falter.

The musician remains tall, mustering every bit of confidence he has to stand his ground, “We got married in secret 2 months ago by a warlock. The Royal Librarian to be more specific,” He emphasizes, dropping a hint of his own importance and status. It startles Lord Kang enough for Yoongi to remove his hand from your arm and move the both of you back a few steps. But he makes sure to show no visible signs of retreat, “His magic is binding and that makes this woman my wife.”

Lord Kang looks furious, and he turns to your Father for an explanation as the crowd begins to mutter around them. You pull at Yoongi’s coat and whisper furiously, “Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He turns around, finally able to face you for the first time in months. His hand gently raises to cup your cheek, “I’m buying you time.”

“Yoongi, we’re not married.” You remind him.

“If you still have any faith in your dream-! If you have any faith left in yourself, then please come and play! Please don’t sign yourself away when you can still perform for the Royal Family.” He pleads, keeping his voice hushed so others won’t hear his plan.

“Winning won’t stop my marriage. He already has my dowry!” You explain.

“Then you can pay it back to your parents with your winnings!” He argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I’d have to win first, and I’m not even on the list! I don’t even have an instrument to play either.” 

He shakes his head, “Yes, you are. And yes, you do.” He drops his hand and lifts up the case he’s been carrying, making quick work of the latches to open it up.

Inside is a violin, brand new and polished. It’s body is a lighter color, and you can’t tell if it’s made out of rosewood or spruce. But you couldn’t care less about the wood type when you’re completely distracted by the Larches carved into the skin. They decorate the outline of the body, acting like a chain. Everyone is detailed and softly etched so it won’t disturb your playing. Something like this must have cost a fortune.

You softly trail a hand over the etching before you look up at the brave pianist in disbelief, “Where did you get this?”

“I made it.” He admits sheepishly, his ears turning a soft shade of red. He averts his gaze to the piece in his hands, “It took quite a bit of work, but I stayed up for days just to finish it for you. I even made sure to put you down for a time that we can play together.” 

This time, it’s you who reaches out to cup his cheek, lifting his chin so he’ll meet your gaze. You search his eyes for anything, wondering what he must be thinking at a time like this, but all you can see is his sincerity. Thinking back on the first time you met, to end up here seems almost asinine, “You did all of this for me?” You ask.

“I-“ He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops himself. It’s like he’s contemplating in his mind what he should say or how to explain his actions, but nothing seems good enough. He sighs, “We both have worked too hard to let this chance just slip away. You can still live out your dream.”

“You really think so?” You ask.

“I do.” He says. He takes a quick peek at his watch and his eyes go wide, “But if we want this to work, then we need to go.”

He starts to close the violin case, but you’re still left wondering what will happen here if you leave, “But the wedding-“

“Will be postponed until they can prove I’m lying.” He reminds you, that smug grin from earlier returning.

It takes you a second to realize that he’s right. They’ll have to get in touch with the officiant that orchestrated your ceremony, and that will still take days to finalize. If all works out, you’ll have already won the competition by then. Yoongi really did think of everything before he put his plan in motion, and you’ve never been happier to know someone like him. You can’t help but smile just thinking about it, “You really are a genius.”

“I know~” He teases, “Now come on.” He takes you by the hand and once again puts on a brave face for the crowd as you attempt to leave, “My wife and I will be going now.”

“Now, just you wait a minute!” Lord Kang steps in front of the two of you, putting a hand out to stop him. He tilts his head back, nose pointed upwards as he looks at Yoongi like he’s beneath him, “Her dowry has already been paid for! I’m not just going to let you walk away with her, nor will I give it back.”

“Then keep it. Unlike you, I can afford to marry a woman without treating her as a trade and still take care of her financially.” Yoongi assures him, “She’s my wife, so that’s my responsibility, but she’s not staying here with you.”

The Lord’s eyes narrow. It’s not hard to tell how entitled he is,especially when he gets face to face with Yoongi, “Who do you think you are?”

“I can be your worst nightmare if you don’t back off.”  Yoongi answers, remaining strong despite his distaste for confrontation. He can feel you shaking behind him, and he squeezes your hand to comfort you. He doesn’t want to subject you to this any longer, so he takes a deep breath to ease his own nerves, “Keep the money you’ve been given. Just leave us alone.” 

He pulls you behind him once again to go around Lord Kang, but the man makes no attempt to stop you this time. You think Yoongi’s actually done it when you hear your Father call from behind you, “(Y/n)-!”

Both you and Yoongi stop, looking over your shoulders to see your Father standing in the middle of the aisle, he seems angry, saddened, and embarrassed. You can only think of how this must have tainted your pride, and a part of you hates that you’ve put him in this situation. But it’s Yoongi’s comforting hold on your hand that has you remaining strong and resilient.

He gently tugs at your conjoined hands, “Let’s go. We can still make it.”

You spare one final moment of attention for your parents, before you turn on your heel and pick up the front of your dress to follow Yoongi out of the church. He stops just outside to help you grab enough fabric to keep you from tripping and holds it between your palms as you make your escape down the steps. You follow him down the cobblestone road, your heels clicking with every step you take. The wind tousles your pinned hair, a few pieces straying from where they were. But you pay them no mind. 

You continue to let Yoongi guide you behind a large crowd, a contestant currently playing with another pianist accompaniment on stage at the very front. You can see her Lady and Prince Seokjin on their stand, watching the performance front and center. You can already feel the nerves building in your stomach, but you try to push it down like you and Yoongi had worked on before you were torn apart.

He leads you to the side where kingdom guards keep watch over the contestants. One of them seems to recognize him and moves to let him through, “Yoongi! There you are! What took you so long?”

“I had some convincing to do.” He simply says.

The guard turns his attention to you, doe eyes looking you up and down before he turns back to Yoongi, “Is this her?” He asks.

Yoongi’s grip on your hand tightens and you can see red rising to his cheeks once again, “We can do introductions later, Jeongguk.”

Yoongi pulls you along, Jeongguk waving after you. He drags you all the way to a tall man with brown, messed up hair standing by the stairs. A pair of wire rimmed glasses rest loosely on his nose as he stares down at a clipboard. A woman stands behind him on the first step onto the platform, resting her arms on his shoulders to read its contents.

The woman notices them approaching first, her eyes lighting up when she sees the two of you, “Yoongi!”

The man looks up as well, scrunching his nose to push his glasses further up. He smiles, “Hey! So, I’m guessing it actually worked?”

Yoongi looks to you and then back to the man, nodding, “Min (Y/n), please.” 

The woman immediately starts looking over the list, running her finger down the participants while Namjoon reads over them. Both of them seem very unfazed, but you’re taken aback, “Min?” You ask, feeling a bit of heat rushing to your face.

“We’re married, remember?” He teases, shaking your intertwined hands. The simple action makes you smile, and you can’t help but giggle with him.

“Oh!” The woman roughly taps her finger against the paper, “She’s next.”

“I’m next?!” You ask in shock. You turn to Yoongi in a panic, “Yoongi-!”

He’s quick to set the case down and grab you by both shoulders, making sure to look you in the eyes, “Stop, okay? You can do this. I know you can do this, just as we practiced.” He does something you would have never expected from him, using one of his hands to pull your head towards his and press your foreheads together while the other rests against your waist. He holds you tenderly against him, eyes closed, “It’s just going to be you and me up there.”

You’re left locked in his embrace, eyes staring at his calm facade. He’s done everything he told you he hates doing all in one day. Confrontation, causing a scene, showing public affection, and even running. He’s done it all just for you. And even after all of that, he still stands here trying to comfort you enough to break free from your troubles instead of taking a moment for himself.

He makes you feel safe.

You ease into his embrace, your fingers grabbing onto the fabric of his coat at his waist. You accept the comfort he offers you and take a moment to relax. You think of all the advice he’s given you so far, and all the wonderful memories he’s helped you create up until this point. You want to win and continue creating memories like those, but everything will be for nothing if you lose.

You squeeze your eyes in frustration and pull him closer, “Yoongi-…what am I going to do if I lose?”

“I guess I’ll have to cough up the money for your dowry and you’ll just have to be married to me for the rest of your life.” He says. You open your eyes and find he’s already looking at you. He seems content with the idea, and he smiles when he sees the shock written across your face, “Think you can handle having someone as grumpy as me as your husband?”

You don’t know if it’s because you’ve become friends or if this is all a part of one grand gesture, but you couldn’t care less. Not if he was offering himself to you, “I think I could learn to manage.”

The music on stage stops and the crowd breaks into applause, and you pull back just enough to look. The man and the woman who’d checked you in take that as their cue to head up on stage themselves, but not without wishing you good luck over their shoulders.

“Here-“ Yoongi leans down and opens the case, making quick work in removing the violin before you really do have to go on. He hands it to you, “-Just remember that it’s only you and me, and no one else, okay? Just play for you and me.”

You nod despite the anxiety building up in your system. Then suddenly, an important realization hits you, “I haven’t even tuned!”

“First of all, you don’t need to tune. Even without tuning, you’d still play beautifully. Second of all-“ He flicks your arm, leaving a small sting behind as he feigns offense, “How dare you assume that I - Min Yoongi - would give you an instrument in a time crunch and not tune it!”

“Let’s give him another round of applause!” The man encourages the crowd, clapping her hands after the boy coming your way. Behind him, the pianist that was accompanying him also makes his way down. He makes eye contact with Yoongi, and he nods.

“Let’s welcome back to the stage, Royal Pianist Min Yoongi!” The man announces, clapping his hands for everyone to join along.

“I need to get up there. Just breathe and I’ll see you on stage.” He assures you. He lets go of you and makes his way to the stairs, going up halfway before turning around, “I’m proud of you.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. He just continues on to the stage, waving to the crowd as they applaud for him. You watch him from backstage with your violin in one hand and your bow in the other, seeing him disappear to his piano just like that. He’s sitting down at his piano to play with you.

And you’re going to join him.

“And for our next contestant…Min (Y/n)!” The two cheer together. They look to you from their spots on stage and you feel the air leave your lungs. Every part of you wants to run, but you know you can’t. You can’t run forever.

So you close your eyes.

Take a breath.

And you make your way up the stairs, holding your violin and bow in one hand and your dress in the other. Looking over the crowd from the stage, it looks like there are far more people than you anticipated. You cast your gaze over the Prince and his Lady, taking note of their watchful eyes. You hope no one minds your attire for today, though you can’t hear any protests over the sounds of the cheering. You glance at Yoongi and he offers you a comforting smile.

The man and woman wave you towards them, bright smiles on their faces. The woman offers a comforting hand on your elbow, “Miss Min, what piece will you be performing for us today?” She asks.

You try your best to refrain from looking down, mustering up all the courage you can to look at her as she speaks to you, “The 7th piece.”

“That’s the hardest one! Only 3 other contestants have played it for us today.” The man says, making your heart drop. 

It’s not that you weren’t aware the piece was hard, you just haven’t played the piece in a while. What if you forget what you were meant to be playing and you throw Yoongi off? What if everyone else did 10x better and you’re left looking like a fool for even trying. You’d disappoint everyone.

You’d disappoint Yoongi.

“I’m sure we’re all looking forward to hearing you play it.” The woman assures, squeezing your arm. She taps your elbow, drawing you out of your thoughts and offers you one last smile, “Please, do your best.”

You nod and she turns back to the crowd, “Min (Y/n), everyone!”

She, the man, and everyone else cheer once again, the two slowly backing away to exit the stage. They leave only you and your violin, and Yoongi and his piano. They leave the timing up to you, but you can already feel the nerves kicking in.

The eyes staring at you, the whispers finally reaching your ears. Even your own intrusive thoughts begin to sink in, and it makes your skin flare up like there’s a fire beneath you. It isn’t too late to back out. You’d just be the weird contestant who fled from her wedding just to flee from her other responsibilities as well.

You turn to eye your exit when you catch Yoongi’s stare from the corner of your eye. He sits with his back tall, hands ready on the keys, and waiting for you. He remains calm, and his eyes are only on you. He doesn’t look to the crowd, he doesn’t adjust his music, he barely even blinks. He just waits for you with a soft smile, like he knows there’s a war going on inside your head and he’s waiting to triage the broken parts.

You shake your head, squeezing the life out of the neck of your instrument, ‘I can’t do this…’ You mouth, your voice coming out in a hushed whisper.

You expect him to frown. You fully expect him to shake his head and tell you to go, but he doesn’t. He remains seated with that same, calming smile, “It’s just you and me.” He assures you.

That mindset is easier said than done.

He takes a deep breath. He emphasizes the intake and the release, trying to get you to mirror his actions just as he’s done before. He does it again and you try your best to mirror him, taking a few solid breaths of your own. He nods to your hands, and you get the message.

With a slight tremble, you gently separate your bow and your violin. You rest the body on your shoulder, tucking it underneath your chin. It eases the shaking of that hand, but the hand that holds your bow still trembles with uneased nerves.

Yoongi checks over his hand position once more - as he does start this piece - before he looks back at you, “The music. Fuel the music.” 

He’d said that to you before, the day he’d dressed you up for his own personal enjoyment and sent you out to the streets. He’d said that if they can’t see you, then they can’t really say anything good or bad about you. 

“But it’s not you that they’re judging. It’s the music and how you perform it. If you perform well, then you’re not bad. You might just not be the best, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

You try to let those words sink in, allowing the good memories to ease you. Everyone had cheered for a you they didn’t know. Everyone danced to a song they didn’t know was played by you. If they could do that, then maybe they’d do it again. And maybe it doesn’t really matter if they do or not. Even if you’re the worst performer today. Even if you perform so badly that they have to kick you off the stage, you’ll have done it. More importantly, you’ll have performed with Yoongi in front of the royal family just as you’ve been wanting to.

It’s now or never.

You straighten up and let your shoulders roll back, tightening the grip on your instrument to end the trembles. You give a firm, curt nod to Yoongi, letting him know that you’re ready. 

He nods back and adjusts his position one last time. He meets your gaze one last time, lifting his head up and softly counting off for the two of you before dropping his head and striking the keys.

You count with him, listening as he begins the soft ballad. You only rest for a few measures, and then you’re to join him for everyone to watch and listen. You don’t want to turn around, but you know you’ll have to actually perform if you want any chance at winning.

So, you close your eyes. You let yourself feel the tempo. You try to imagine that you’re not on a stage in front of hundreds of people, but back in your clearing in the woods. You try to picture the night sky and the stars above you. You try to imagine that the wind blowing through your hair is the same cool air that kicked leaves into your hair and crunched under your feet. You try to imagine a Yoongi that doesn’t play the piano with you, but sits on a log with his own eyes closed as he listens to you play. 

And then it is your turn to play. 

Yoongi’s lone melody echoes in the air at the hold in the music. He looks to you, trusting you to continue on as it’s written in the piece. He knows you’re nervous, and he knows that this situation is quite literally a make or break for you. But he knows your talent, and he knows deep down that you want this more than you’re willing to let your anxiety rule your life. He knows that you can. He knows that you’re going to be just fine.

And then, the sound of your first note rings out as you drag your bow over the strings. Your eyes remain shut, but your face is relaxed in pure concentration as you focus on the music and not the crowd. Yoongi plays along with you, adding his own part to help guide and support the music and your thoughts.

And his playing puts you at ease, the familiar clacking of the keys furthering your mental paradise. It reminds you of his escape in the woods, a cabin where he can create without any disturbance. You can see the warm glow from his candles illuminating his face as he plays, head bowed as he lets himself feel the music that he’s creating. You can see his pleased smile when something comes together. You can see him so perfectly.

You don’t even notice yourself turning around, playing for the audience instead of only playing for Yoongi. You don’t pay attention to the hushed praise or the eyes that linger over you. You think of only one set of eyes that would bore holes into your head if he ever caught you out late at night. A pair of eyes that belong to the raven-haired, piano prodigy that plays alongside you as - not an acquaintance anymore, but - a friend. 

Perhaps, he is much more than just that as well.

The thought makes you smile, and you want nothing more than to see the real thing for yourself. No more imagining Yoongi as he plays, but you want to see him. How could you miss such a wonderful opportunity to make a great memory when it’s right in front of you?

So, you turn back to him, leaning into the music and opening your eyes. You watch him as he plays along with you, his gold buttons and trim shaking as he performs. His movements are intense, but the music is nothing but graceful. The way he strokes and fingers the keys, making each note just as important as the last. He’s completely invested into the music, and it makes you smile to see him painted this way.

For a moment, he looks up to watch you as well, and he catches you looking back. He’s shocked at first, glancing between you and the keys, and wondering if you’re actually playing with your eyes open. But as he continues to play, and he continues to catch your stare, he can only beam with pride. 

No one misses the smile that grows on the usually cold pianist's face, and they don’t miss the bright smile that adorns your own when you finally turn back to the crowd. Even as you continue to perform for the audience, you still have moments where it looks as though you’re only performing for him. And in your own way, you really are only performing for him.

But it’s because he’s encouraged you to perform for yourself first.

Your piece finally comes to an end, both you and Yoongi nodding to each other at the cut off. It’s clean and precise, and you can still hear it echo in the wind as people begin to cheer. And it takes you by surprise to hear their applause. You spent most of your performance focused on Yoongi, that you forgot you were performing for a real crowd.

You let your eyes roam over the crowd, taking in their pleased expressions. You take in their smiles and their words of praise. You look to the Prince and his Lady, and you swear it almost looks as though the Lady has tears in her eyes as she politely claps her praise.

“Wow! What a performance?!” The man from earlier cheers, clapping his own hands as he makes his way to you with the woman right behind him. He stops on your left and motions for everyone to calm down and waits until they’ve eased enough, “I think we can all agree that that was quite the show!”

“Very beautiful, indeed~” The woman agrees from your right, “Why don’t you take a bow?”

She and the man take a step back, leaving you to bow on your own. But how can you bow on your own when you didn’t perform on your own?

So you turn back to Yoongi, finding him preparing the bench for the next pianist. You wave to grab his attention, nodding for him to join you at the apron of the stage. He hesitates for a moment, knowing that this is your moment and that being the accompaniment is all he’s meant to be, but you insist.

He leaves the piano to join you front and center on stage, blood already rushing to his ears. He steps between you and the woman on your right, looking just as nervous as you probably do. You move your belongings to one hand so you can grab his, but he stops you. He gestures to you, smiling at the crowd as he patiently waits for you to bow. You oblige, placing your free hand on your chest as you bow to the crowd in front of you. And when you come up, it’s your turn to gesture to Yoongi for his own moment of recognition. You can tell he’s not used to being in his own spotlight, but he still has more performances under his belt than you. And when he finishes his bow, it’s him that makes the grab for your hand. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, before leading you into a bow together.

The crowd cheers you on, and when you stand up again it’s the man that announces this time, “Thank you both for your performance today!”

You bask in the moment, hand-in-hand with Yoongi for just a second longer before you both make your exit off stage for the next round of performers. As soon as you make it off the steps and back to the performers tent, you immediately drop Yoongi’s hand to throw your arms over his neck. It takes him by surprise, but he accepts it nonetheless. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You cry, holding him tight.

“No need to thank me,” He assures you, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist, “I was happy to do it.”

“No, you weren’t. Not for all of it.” You remind him, making him chuckle. You pull away just enough to look at him, and you cup his cheek with your free hand, “You helped me make my dreams come true today, Yoongi. That means so much to me, and there are only so many ways to say thank you. How else can I show my appreciation?”

He ponders for a moment, seemingly hesitant once again. Only this time, he says what’s on his mind, “Maybe, you and I can continue to be married even if you win?” He asks sheepishly, a tinge of red on his cheeks.

“Is that a marriage proposal? A real one, this time?” You tease, adding to the redness that’s already spreading over his face.

Even with the embarrassment he feels, he doesn’t let it stop him this time, “It is.”

You feel a mixture of happiness and embarrassment of your own at his answer. Of course, you’d love to marry him! You’d rather marry him than the man you were going to marry. You just can’t help how flustered the man makes you.

You use Yoongi’s hold on you to your advantage, loosely returning to his embrace and hiding yourself in his chest. He chuckles, but it’s cut short when you whisper for only him to hear, “Well, then I accept.” 

Yoongi lets the news sink in, pulling you tighter against him and hiding his face in your hair when it finally hits him. He can’t help but smile, “I’m so proud of you.”

He pulls back again, moving one of his hands to push back a stray piece of hair. He lets his hand rest at the back of your head, meeting your gaze. His eyes flicker to your lips, and you let out a sharp intake of breath. He studies you, your eyes and your face for any signs or refusal, but you don’t show any. If anything, you want to find out just as badly as he does.

He leans in, slowly inching closer to your face until you can feel his lips in front of yours. He hesitates, and you know he’s trying to give you one last chance to back out. But you don’t need a way out anymore. You lean forward, making the move to press your lips against his. You grab onto the nape of his coat, but it’s short lived.

“Yoongi-! Oh…” You both pull away, turning your heads to see the man from the stage tight-lipped as the woman taps his arms.

“Namjoon!” She scolds, obviously upset that he interrupted a moment.

“I’m sorry, Nari.” Namjoon apologizes to her, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He looks to you and Yoongi and bows his head, “Sorry, you two…”

“It’s fine.” You assure him.

“Yeah, no harm done.” Yoongi agrees. He takes a step back and grabs your free hand before you can pull it back all the way, bringing it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of it like a promise. He lovingly smiles at you, looking through his lashes, “We have time.”

You can feel the heat in your cheeks and you try to push it back down, but it’s almost impossible to push down the pride you have in this moment. You both have grown so much in the months that you’ve come to know each other, and that’s something you never thought would be possible. Even more so, you never thought that you would both fall for each other after the history you’ve created together. But you’re happy that you have.

“Miss Min!” Jeongguk calls. You both turn to the guard as he approaches, slightly worried, “There’s guests here to see you, Miss Min.”

“It’s Mrs. Min.” You correct, taking Yoongi by surprise. You notice and laugh, “Don’t give me that look when you just proposed to me!”

“So, you two admitted it!” Nari cheers, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“We did.” Yoongi confirms, squeezing the hand he still holds. He turns to Jeongguk and nods in the direction of the tent entrance, “Who wants to see her?”

“Her parents.” He answers.

You tense at the mention of your parents. You’d done so well putting the wedding, the crowd, and everything else behind you that you forgot about the consequences entirely. You can only imagine what they have to say to you. Even worse, what they may do to you after learning that you “married” without their knowledge, and left the wedding they arranged for you. You can only imagine the amount of trouble you’re about to be in.

“Hey-“ Yoongi shakes your intertwined hands, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We’ll talk to them together. I got you into this mess, and I’ll see that you get out of it one way or the other.”

“Here, I can take that for you-“ Namjoon offers, reaching out to take your violin out of your hands. You move to accept his offer, but both Yoongi and Nari try to intercept it before you can successfully hand it off to him.

Nari brings it to her chest, turning to Namjoon with a gentle smile, “I think I should take this one, Joonie.”

Her smile does nothing for him though, as he’s still very offended, “I’m not going to break it!” 

“I’d rather not take the chance.” Yoongi says, making you giggle.

Namjoon scoffs in response, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s not like I can’t fix it.”

“We know, Joonie, but it’s probably for the best if you stick to your books.” Nari pats his arm. You know she means to comfort him, but the poor man doesn’t seem very comforted.

He pouts, “I feel very targeted.”

Yoongi chuckles and turns to Jeongguk, “Why don’t you lead us to them, Jeongguk? We probably shouldn’t keep the in-laws waiting.”

Jeongguk nods and turns to lead the way, Yoongi following after him with your hand held tightly in his. Before, you had both run away hand-in-hand from the danger your parents were bringing you, and now you’re walking towards it. 

You see your parents just outside the tent, your Father waiting patiently with his arm over your anxious Mother’s shoulders. Though, their mannerisms switch when they see you approach with Yoongi. You try not to shrink when you see them, but you know you can’t help but feel smaller after everything that happened with them. You can only hope that Yoongi is still just as resilient as he’d been earlier.

“Here she is, folks. A very talented daughter with her very talented husband.” Jeongguk announces, moving the small wooden barrier so you and Yoongi can exit the tent to properly greet them. He doesn’t seem to notice the tense situation, but you, Yoongi, and your parents don’t make a mention of it. He smiles, “Make sure to be back before your next performance, Yoongi.”

“Will do. Thank you, Jeongguk.” Yoongi nods. He exits the tent with you, keeping you close now that you’re in front of your parents who don’t seem very happy to be there. He bows to them as his greeting and nods to a clear space just a bit further away from the crowd and the performances, “Should we move somewhere just a bit more quiet?”

“Of course.” Your Father agrees, deciding to remain civil.

For now.

Yoongi leads the way, holding your hand through the crowd. You do your best to stay with him, but it’s hard to walk with people stepping on the back of your dress every now and then. One tug has you almost tripping onto the cobblestone beneath you, and it’s a good thing Yoongi has a tight grip on your hand to keep you from tripping entirely. 

“Here-“ He drops your hand in favor of grabbing the train of your dress. He bunches the fabric up in his hand until he has enough that it won’t get stepped on as you walk. You try to take it from him, but he keeps a tight hold on it. Instead, he wraps an arm around your back and places his hand on your waist to keep you close. His actions have the heat rising to your cheeks once again, and you can feel lightness in your chest just from having him take care of you.

You make it to the open area and Yoongi stops, turning you both around so you can properly speak with your parents. He doesn’t move his arm, nor does he drop your dress. He waits for them to speak.

Your Father stands tall, your Mother’s arm locked in his. His expression is stern, one you’ve become accustomed to in the past few months. Your Mother seems conflicted herself, but your Father’s expression is almost unreadable.

“I have almost no words to describe how I feel at this very moment.” Your Father says. This is how most of his “disappointment” speeches start, showcasing his own emotions to make you feel even worse. Where most men would find their emotions to be a weakness, your Father always managed to use his to his advantage. Especially if it meant he could sway a decision of yours. Only this time, there’s nothing he can sway anymore. This time, he’s the one that’s been swayed. “I’ve been humiliated in front of the public, taken advantage of by some swindler who bed my daughter, and lied to by my own kin. Have you no shame for what you’ve put me through?”

Shame. 

That hits you hard. 

You’d never planned to bring shame to your family name. Only pride and honor. You’d wanted to be the best violinist in the kingdom, not the worst daughter a set of parents could ask for. Not when they’ve given you so much. But you couldn’t afford to lose yourself either. You had an opportunity for you, and you took it. And while it may have been a selfish act wrapped in chivalry, it was still something that you’ve planned to do since the beginning. Something your parents had encouraged at one point as well.

“Father I never meant to hurt you-!” You try to explain yourself, but your Father raises his hand.

“I’m not finished,” He spits. You shrink back into Yoongi’s side, and he squeezes your waist. Your Mother gives your Father a pointed look, but he ignores her, “You’ve tainted my pride. I’m very likely going to be scorned for years because of your reckless actions!”

He’s not wrong. Everyone may be distracted by the competition today, and maybe even a few more days after that! But it will fizzle out, and then the vultures will come looking for something to tear into. They’ll tear into your parents, they’ll tear into you, and they’ll even tear into Yoongi. While his actions have brought you together and granted you an opportunity you didn’t think you’d have a second chance at, it’s created a domino effect. And sooner or later, all of the pieces are going to come crumbling down.

Just the thought of what people may say or do rattles you, and you can only hope that you win this competition. Otherwise, you’ll be defenseless for years to come. Forced to hide behind another to shield yourself from their tyranny. And your parents won’t have anywhere to hide.

Your Father’s anger is justified, but it doesn’t take the sting of his words away. Nor does it coming into the open help to dissipate his shaking voice, “And what’s worse is you’ve gone and done something so remarkable! How can I be mad when you’ve finally taken a stand and put your fears behind you?!”

It takes you a moment to process what he said. Had you heard that correctly? You turn to Yoongi, confused, but he’s just as confused as you are. You turn back to your Father in hopes of clearing the air, “What…?”

It’s your Mother who finally pipes up, a content smile on her face, “(Y/n)…you played so beautifully up there!”

“You watched me perform?” You ask, shocked to hear they’d been in the crowd. You hadn’t seen them from the stage, but you weren’t really looking at the crowd. You were far more focused on other things than scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

“Did you think we’d let our daughter run from her own wedding and not follow her?” Your Mother laughs. You’d thought that they’d disown you the moment you left the church. You thought after everything that happened, that they’d be more than willing to write you off and take their chances with the loss. But you never thought they’d come and follow you. “We watched the whole performance. Everything!”

“Though, I didn’t anticipate your husband would be up on stage with you.” Your Father grumbles, eyes glaring daggers at Yoongi. He didn’t know everything Yoongi had done for you. They still didn’t even know the truth behind that morning they found you with Yoongi. It isn’t right or fair for them to judge him on a lie! And if he’s to be your husband from here on out, then they’d need to know the whole truth.

“Right, about that-“ You start, but you’re stopped by Yoongi pulling away from you. He drops your dress, and you’re confused until he drops to his knees and lowers himself onto the ground.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, bowing as low as he can possibly go. 

“Yoongi-!” He’s showing respect to your parents on the basis of a lie, and you can’t let him apologize for something that isn’t entirely his fault. But Yoongi doesn’t let you stop him.

“I should never have encouraged her to marry me so soon and without your blessing,” he continues, “I had hoped to court her properly, but I couldn’t control myself with a woman like her. Someone so kind, so beautiful, and so talented. Please, forgive me.”

Your Father eyes him, his demeanor unchanging. You look between the two, and you’re honestly worried your Father might take the chance to kick him while he’s down. But he’s much too prideful a man for that.

“Get up.” Your Father demands. Yoongi does as he’s asked, standing up once again in the face of your Father. He stares Yoongi down, thoughts racing through his mind that you wish you could hear. But they only come to you in the version of skin meeting skin. A harsh slap being brought down against Yoongi’s cheek.

“Father!” You cry. Your arms move to comfort Yoongi, but his right comes out to stop you from coming any closer. The pianist keeps his head held high in the face of your Father, but he doesn’t retaliate.

Your Father sees his resilience and sighs, “Let’s make one thing clear, Min Yoongi. I don’t like you. I don’t approve of you marrying my daughter, I don’t appreciate you going behind my back with her to do so, and I don’t appreciate you making me look like a fool in front of a family with such a high status.”

Yoongi nods, “I understand, sir.”

“But I can appreciate the confidence that you’ve helped her build and the encouragement you’ve given her to do her best.” He admits, much to your surprise. He seems almost accepting, despite what he’d said. He sighs, “And I suppose I can’t ignore the fact that you do take care of her.”

“He really does!” You assure him, placing your hands on Yoongi’s arm.

“Will you really pay back her dowry?” Your Mother asks.

Yoongi nods, “It’s my duty as her husband to do so. Down to the last copper piece.” 

“If you do that and you continue to care for her and you make her happy, then-…” Your Father extends an open palm to Yoongi, “I suppose we’ll learn to accept this less than agreeable situation.”

Yoongi shakes his hand, and you can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around your Father, “Oh, thank you, Father! Thank you!” You cry. You pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders, “I promise, I’ll make you proud.”

“I know you will.” He assures you, leaning down to place a kiss against your temple.

Your Mother squeezes in for her own hug, squeezing you tight before she returns to your Father’s side, “Go on. You shouldn’t loiter around here when there’s more performances to be had.”

“Right.” Yoongi agrees. He bends down to grab the fabric of your dress again, “We’ll come find you when she wins.”

“Yoongi! We don’t know that I’m going to win.” You remind him, cheeks hot with embarrassment from his praise.

“I’m confident you will.” He argues, a teasing smile on his face. He wraps his arm around you as he’d done before and bows to your parents, “Until later.”

“Until later.”

The two of you make your way back into the crowd, leaving your parents behind. Of all the ways that conversation could have gone, you didn’t think it would end like it did. 

“All things considered, I think that went very well.” You say to him, relieved that your parents weren’t entirely cross with you.

Yoongi nods his head in agreement, “I’m not dead, so I think it went pretty well.”

“Does your cheek hurt?” You ask, remembering that he didn’t let you check after your Father hit him.

He shrugs, “It stings, but that will go away before dusk.” He pinches your waist and you look at him, seeing a mischievous smile on his face, “I’ll have you for much longer.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your first reaction is to elbow him out of embarrassment, “Don’t be so cheesy! It’s weird.”

“Why not? How is it weird?” Yoongi laughs, chuckling at your expense.

“Because it’s you!”

He scoffs, “Am I not allowed to woo you? And here I thought you liked my charming wit.”

You roll your eyes, letting your arms cross over your chest, “There’s no need to woo your wife.”

“I beg to differ.” Yoongi argues. He comes to a stop only a few feet away from the performers tent and pulls you towards his front. You gasp in shock, and he smiles, leaning down to place his forehead against yours, “You just wait until this whole ordeal is over with, then I’ll sweep you off your feet and show you just how charming I can be~”

“Yoongi-!” You scold, hitting his chest for being lewd in public.

“I meant proper courting!” 

—-

As soon as it started, the competition finally came to an end. Many contestants performed, having traveled the kingdom from far and wide just for the occasion. Everyone did their best, and you can only hope that your best was enough for you. You stand patiently in front of Yoongi, brimming with nervousness and excitement all at once. Yoongi does his best to keep you calm, but even he’s anxious to know who would win.

The only people on stage are Namjoon - who you’ve come to learn is the warlock that “officiated” your marriage - and Nari. They talk to the crowd and entertain them as the Royal Family makes their decisions, Namjoon’s magic being what helps them to amplify their voices.

“Just remember, even if you lose, you still did exactly what you said you would.” Yoongi reminds you, hands rubbing up and down your arms as if he’s trying to warm you up.

“I know…” You try your best to listen to him, knowing that he’s right. But the sting of losing will still hurt in the end with or without him.

“Oh, what’s this? Thank you, Sir (name).” Namjoon suddenly says, his voice cutting through the hushed chatter of the crowd and the performers, “It would seem a decision has been made.”

“Here we go!” Someone squeals behind you.

“I’m so excited!” Another voice chimes in.

“I can’t wait to get up there when they announce my name.” Another boasts, making your breath hitch.

Yoongi pulls you into his chest and rests his head against yours, “Just breathe.” He encourages.

You do, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against his. No matter what happens, you’ll still have Yoongi either way. You’ll still have your parents, you’ll still have the confidence you’ve slowly built, and you’ll still have your violin. Losing will hurt, but maybe you’ll be okay.

“What am I going to do if I lose?” You ask, working to keep your breathing steady. It’s just so hard now that everything is starting to come together. And with it all coming in at once, it’s so easy to lose it all as well, “I’ve spent so long dreaming of doing this, and now it may not even happen.”

Yoongi wraps his arms around your front and sighs, “Then we’ll find a new dream for you.”

“With much insistence from Lady Yeeun herself, our new Royal Violinist is…” You can hear Nari pause, adding to the suspense of the moment. It almost kills you inside just waiting for her to call the name of someone that isn’t you. You just want her to rip off the bandaid and get it over with so you can get on with your life and find a new dream.

“Min (Y/n)!” Namjoon yells.

You can hear the crowd burst into applause, and the claps and whines of those around you. It takes you a moment to even register that it was your name they announced until Yoongi starts to shake you from side to side in excitement.

“You did it! I told you, you would win!” He yells, squeezing you and jumping up and down.

“I won?” 

“You won!”

“I won!” You repeat, the realization finally sinking in.

You turn around in Yoongi’s arms to throw your arms over his shoulders, squeezing him just as tightly as he squeezes you. All of your hard work paid off. Every stupid exercise, every extra minute spent awake, and every painful moment of disappointment finally got you to where you want to be.

And he was there for all of it.

“Why don’t we get our winner on stage with us to take a final bow?” Nari asks the crowd, earning more cheers and hollers.

“C’mon-“ Yoongi pulls back and takes your hand, leading you to the stairs that lead to the stage, “They’re waiting for you.” 

You hesitate, “Just me?” 

“Go!” He encourages, picking up the front of your dress and offering you a nudge in the right direction.

You grab the front of your dress and do as he says, walking on stage once more, but as a winner this time. You can see the Royal Family standing just off to the far side of the stage, Namjoon and Nari standing in the center and waiting for you. They welcome you in between them at center stage.

“Please, take another bow!” Nari encourages, she and Namjoon stepping to the side to let you have your moment.

You do, allowing yourself to emerge in the feeling of the applause and the cheers for your win. After years of practice and dedication, you can finally say that you’ve accomplished your goal.

You stand up with a shy wave to the crowd, Namjoon taking this opportunity to slide in next to you, “Congratulations on your win! How do you feel?”

“Speechless.” You answer, truthfully unsure of what else you could possibly say. There was no word to describe everything you feel, “I really have no words for how I feel at this moment. I’m just so overwhelmed with emotion.”

“Well, perhaps you could provide us with a song that will describe your feeling to us?” Nari suggests, opening the stage to you for a final encore. The crowd seems to enjoy this idea as well.

“Can I really?”

“You can.”

You turn to the stage stairs to grab your violin, but Yoongi is already 3 steps ahead of you. He’s already walking up the stairs with your violin in hand to bring it to you, a proud smile on his face. You accept it from him, but you grab his sleeve before he can let go.

He knows what you want without you saying a word and frowns, “This is your moment.”

“I want to share it with you.” You plead. Had it not been for Yoongi, you would have never gotten this far. Had it not been for Yoongi, then you would have went through with your marriage today. Despite all of the personal progress you made to get where you are now, you would’ve have it if not for Yoongi. “We did this together.”

He smiles, feeling a bit bashful. It’s hard to ignore your request with you looking at him like that. He can’t help but give in, “Which rendition would you like to play then, Mrs. Min? Major or Minor?”

“I think…” You ponder which version you like more. The version you heard forever ago, once upon a time. Or the version you and Yoongi have added onto in the years that you’ve grown. A minor key invokes those emotions that play at ones own heartstrings but a major key? A major key makes you feel light and airy, as if you’re on top of the world. At this moment, you feel as if you’ve ascended into the stars, shining brightly above with the rest of them. 

There’s only one answer to give him. 

“I think - Mr. Min - that I’m feeling major.”

~ Fin~

[minhoonski]

Should I Put out The Fire Or Continue to Burn?

Hoseok faces the brunt of a certain tragic event and is ultimately left with a scorched and bleeding heart.

He decides to follow in Yoongi's footsteps.

***

An even more brief summary: Sope just being done with how shitty life is.

***

CW: suicide, vomitting

Read at your own risk!!

Read this on AO3!!

A pair of hazy eyes stared back at him through the reflection of the mirror.

Hoseok examined the dark circles lacing under them, his bruised lips, and the thin structure of his pale face; they were marks left behind by his lack of commitment and rest.

He bit back the urge to spit at his revolting image, for he had settled to leaning into the sink and retching up a thin line of nearly nothing but acid; Hoseok hadn't eaten anything before hurrying to the bathroom.

His stomach heaved to push out his guts, sending his mind reeling and body shrinking closer until his legs had given out under himself. A twinge charged up his knees upon rough contact with the cold ground, and Hoseok could only produce a mere strangled sob in response.

Shaky hands grip his throat as a futile attempt to obstruct the entrance for the bile crawling up and threatening to spew out once more—it hurts and everything else hurt. Salty tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

Hoseok felt so fucking disgusting.

And he felt like he was the most disgusting thing in existence.

“You're the most beautiful boy ever, babe.”

He swayed slightly as he rose from the cold, cold floor; he clutched onto the sink.

“Yoongi, you know I'm not!”

Hoseok—head casted down, and his shoulders slumped—gathers enough will to shakily reach for the medicine cabinet.

Long fingers slowly inch lower and lower along his torso as the man looming above dives down for his sensitive neck.

“You look even more beautiful with my lips wrapped around your pretty throat.”

“Nngh— Yoongi!”

The bottle consisting of white and orange hues coaxes him to submit. There's a small label pasted on it: Sleeping Pills.

A flood of relief and anticipation suddenly flourished over the strain on his body.

Their tongues eagerly struggling for dominance along with the greedy hands probing his bare skin had diverted Hoseok's attention before he could've caught the certain words which spilled from Yoongi's lips.

“I love you.”

He had woken up to a hastily written message next to him on the bed in place of Yoongi: Gotta go to work.

He didn't have work on Saturdays.

There was an uncertainty hanging in the back of his mind that prevented Hoseok from immediately throwing the pills into the back of his throat.

His gaze hovers once more towards the mirror to study himself.

The profound scent of smoke and gasoline almost clouded Hoseok's senses; he watched, helplessly, at the roaring flames swelling in intensity from Yoongi's hotel room.

He doesn't register crying and screaming so loudly until his voice went hoarse during that moment.

He wanted to start over again.

He wanted to reverse everything that had happened the night before.

He should've never fallen for his words.

He should've never seen him.

He should've never fallen for him.

Hoseok threw his head back and felt the capsules squeeze through the tight walls of his throat.

“Please come back.”

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 In Darkness I Found You 🔞

Synopsis: In which alpha Hobi finds a severely injured omega in his front yard during a storm and discovers the horrible path that lead him to Hobi in the first place

Tags: Mentions of rape, forced pregnancy, & restraints

Hobi picked up his head from what he was doing on the computer when the flood light went on in the front yard. It was pouring rain outside & the only thing that could possibly set it off was something large moving. 

“Tae did you leave one of the dogs out?” he yelled down the stairs to his younger brother. 

“No, they’re right here!” Tae yelled back. Hobi closed his laptop and went downstairs. 

“Didn’t you see the light go off?” he asked. 

“It’s probably just a deer or something,” Tae replied clearly unwilling to go outside and check. They lived on a horse farm out in the country with their nearest neighbors 6 miles away. 

“Fine, I’ll check,” Hobi pulled on his boots and rain jacket. The downside of having 2 Alphas living in the same house was little tasks like checking for possible intruders were deadlocked longer than they should’ve been. The light had gone out by the time Hobi got out there. It was raining so hard that he could barely see in front of him. The light went back on and he smelled it before he saw it. 

There was a person collapsed in the grass, specifically an Omega in severe distress. The smell almost knocked him over. He jogged over and scooped up the young male. He was still alive, but even in the darkness of the storm, Hobi could tell he was in bad shape. 

“Tae, open the door!” he yelled. The irritated look on his brother’s face disappeared when he saw the Omega in Hobi’s arms. 

“Put him in the bathroom,” Tae said and went to get his bag. He was a nurse and Hobi was a vet, so this Omega had lost his energy in the best yard for miles. Hobi lied him down on the bath mat and finally got a good look at him. He was muddy from where he’d fallen. His clothes were old and worn out. He was thin, but the type of thin where he’d been fed one step above what he needed to survive. Hobi thought he saw blood in between his legs. He may have just given birth. But an Omega wouldn’t leave his newborn pup behind. Would he? Hobi didn’t know much about Omegas other than the ones Tae told him about from the hospital. Neither he nor Tae had considered taking mates. They were content with their jobs, animals, and sniping at each other like siblings do, especially 2 Alpha siblings. The Omega looked up at Hobi. He was clearly confused and exhausted. 

“It’s okay. We’re going to help you,” Hobi reassured him. “My name is Hobi.”

He tried to speak, but nothing came out.  

“That’s okay, I’ll learn your name soon enough,” Hobi smiled at him. He had no idea why he was smiling at him. Maybe because it reassured him, too. He’d spent years working with skittish horses and it was serving him well now. 

“Okay, let's get a look at you,” Tae said. As he went to check the Omega’s breathing with his stethoscope, the Omega suddenly got wild eyed and started whining. He tried to get away, but was too weak to do more than a half roll. Hobi looped his arm under the Omega’s arms & pulled him up into sitting position. He sat behind him bolstering the Omega’s back against his chest. 

“He’s not going to hurt you. This is my brother Tae. He’s going to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself when you fell. Nod if you understand me,” Hobi said. The Omega nodded against Hobi’s chest. 

“We’re gonna have to clean him up, too,” Tae said. “Though I think I know what’s going on here.”

“What?” Hobi asked. Tae looked at the Omega. 

“Have you been pregnant before?” he asked.

The Omega nodded. 

“More than 3 times since you presented?” Tae continued.

The Omega nodded again. 

“He’s a Breeder,” Tae sighed. 

“Isn’t that illegal?” Hobi asked.

“Very,” Tae confirmed.

“I know you won’t like this, but once we get you cleaned up I’m going to have to examine you. Since you were bleeding I want to make sure you won’t get an infection. Okay?” Tae said to the Omega. He nodded. 

“I’ll help get you washed up,” Hobi said. The Omega started to shake a little and smell like fear. “I’m not going to do that to you. I’m just going to clean you up so Tae can make sure you’re okay.” The Omega stopped shaking, but the scent of fear stayed. 

“I’ll be outside,” Tae said. Hobi started to fill the tub. He consistently soothed him like he did with the horses while he helped him get undressed and in the tub. As the mud washed off, Hobi noticed scars on his wrists and ankles from being tied up. If he really was a Breeder, that wasn’t a surprise. Omegas with desirable traits, such as a certain eye color or body type, were allegedly paid to mate with Alphas and produce equally desirable pups. The reality of the situation was they were kept as hostages and almost constantly pregnant. The practice had been outlawed decades ago. The fact that this Omega was showing obvious signs of being a Breeder meant one of their neighbors was engaging in one hell of a sketchy stream of income. 

“I’m going to go get Tae now. Will you be okay in here for a minute by yourself?” Hobi asked as he drained the tub and helped the Omega out into a towel. He nodded. Hobi helped him towel off, careful to avoid his crotch and any indication he might be interested in knotting him, then sat him back on the floor against the wall. “I’ll get some clean clothes for you, too. They’ll smell like Alpha, but they’ll at least be dry.” The look in the Omega’s eyes was grateful. The smell of fear had dissipated. This was probably the first time he’d been treated with any kindness in a long time. 

Hobi got Tae and the Omega started to look suspicious again. Two Alphas in the room was obviously one too many for him. 

“I’ll be as quick as I can. I just need to make sure nothing is going to get infected,” Tae told him. The Omega looked at Hobi. 

“Do you want me to help you sit again?” Hobi asked. The omega nodded. 

“Okay. He’s going to have to examine why you had blood on your pants. He isn’t going to knot you. He just needs to check,” Hobi sat behind the Omega again as he reluctantly spread his legs. Tae put on gloves and the Omega started to whine and shake. He’d definitely been a Breeder and only had negative experiences with medical professionals. They always took his pups away. 

“Breathe. I promise he won’t hurt you,” Hobi scratched the Omega’s head. He was grooming an Omega he’d found half dead in his front yard 2 hours ago. What the hell was going on with him? 

“There’s still a pup in there. It’s not very big, but it’s there. I think he miscarried one, but not the other,” Tae said after he finished palpating the Omega’s abdomen. The Omega looked at him in surprise. 

“How far do you think?” Hobi asked. 

“Three months, maybe? I doubt he’ll show anytime soon with one this small,” Tae said. “There’s still a risk he’ll lose this one, too. We can’t let him move around too much and we definitely need to get him fed properly soon.”

“Let’s get you dressed and get you in bed. Okay?” Hobi said. The Omega nodded still watching Tae closely. 

“I’ll get him some water and soup or something,” Tae said. 

“I’ll put him in the guest room. That should smell slightly less like Alpha,” Hobi said. Once he got the Omega dressed in a pair of his old sweatpants and tee shirt, he picked him up again and carried him to the guest bedroom. They rarely used it because they rarely had guests. 

“Here we go. Nice and cozy,” Hobi said. 

“Yoongi,” the Omega finally found his voice. “I’m Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi,” Hobi smiled at him. Yoongi put Hobi’s hand on his belly. 

“This is pup number 10,” he said.

“Hi pup number 10,” Hobi said. His gut jerked at the realization that Yoongi had birthed or lost 9 pups since he presented. This would be the first pup he was allowed to keep.

“How old are you?” Hobi asked. 

“I think I’m 25,” Yoongi replied.

“You think?” Hobi was confused.

“What year is it?” Yoongi asked. 

“2019,” Hobi replied. 

“Then I’m 25,” he replied. If he’d been held captive then he’d have no clue how much time had passed other than roughly how long he’d been pregnant. 

“I have water and chicken noodle soup,” Tae said, coming into the room with a tray. “I also found some vitamins. They aren’t prenatal, but they’ll do until I can get some.”

Yoongi let out a whine. 

“I know you’re scared, but he’s not gonna take your pup or hurt you. Right Tae?” Hobi looked at his brother.

“Nope,” Tae said as he put down the tray on the nightstand. “I’m going to make sure you and the pup are nice and healthy. So you can keep a healthy, happy pup.”

“You won’t take my pup?” Yoongi put his hand over his belly. 

“No, I won’t take your pup,” Tae reassured him. “This one is yours.”

Yoongi looked at Hobi. 

“The pup is yours.  We won’t take it from you,” he said. 

“Then why are you being nice to me?” Yoongi questioned.

“Because you’re a person who deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. You’re not a pup factory,” Hobi replied. Tae nodded in agreement. Yoongi didn’t look convinced. “Let’s at least get some dinner in you. You both need to eat.”

“Yell if you need me,” Tae said and left. Hobi handed him the water and he drank it in almost one gulp. 

“Looks like you need a refill.” Hobi smiled.

“Guess I was thirstier than I thought,” Yoongi said. By the time he finished the soup, took the vitamin, and finished 2 more glasses of water, it was almost midnight. 

“Think you can sleep?” Hobi asked. 

“I am tired,” Yoongi said. 

“My room is right next door if you need anything, though Tae probably won’t want you getting up,” Hobi said. 

“You can stay,” Yoongi said. 

“You’re not afraid of me?” Hobi asked.

“You smell...safe,” Yoongi said, choosing the words carefully.

“Then I guess I’ll change and be right back,” Hobi said. As he changed into his pajamas, he thought about what Yoongi had said. Did Yoongi only feel that way because Hobi picked him up in the pouring rain from the mud? Was he only uneasy around Tae because Tae reminded him of the doctors who took his pups away? Or was it something else? Hobi had unconsciously started grooming him to keep him calm while Tae was examining him. He wasn’t his mate. He barely knew him. He’d put Hobi’s hand on his belly, his most vulnerable place. He seemed to trust Hobi. They needed him to trust at least one of them if they were going to get him and the pup healthy. It wasn’t more than that. It couldn’t be.

Yoongi had dozed off sitting up when Hobi came back into the bedroom. Hobi tried to get in bed without disturbing him and failed. Yoongi jerked awake. 

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Hobi said. 

“Okay,” Yoongi tried to slow his breathing. 

“Down we go,” Hobi helped him to lying down. Hobi lied down facing him. Yoongi watched him intently. 

“What?” Hobi asked. 

“I can’t remember the last time I slept in a real bed,” he said. 

“Where did you sleep?” Hobi wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Roll away hospital beds. It was easier when it was time for us to give birth,” Yoongi swallowed hard. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hobi said. 

“Yes, I do,” Yoongi whispered. “The Alphas liked me because I was one of the prettiest males. The ones who didn’t want to be with a female almost always picked me. I fought, though. That’s why they had to strap me down. I wouldn’t hold still long enough for the Alphas to knot me. Then I got a reputation for being a fighter. That’s when it got really bad.”

“Being strapped down and raped wasn’t bad enough?” Hobi tried to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset Yoongi any more than he already was and by extension the pup. 

“Once I was labeled a fighter, they’d put me in a pen first to let the Alpha catch me before I was knotted. I bit a lot of Alphas. Ones who wanted pups that were aggressive would play that game. What they didn’t understand is I learned to fight. I’m not an aggressive Omega,” Yoongi’s voice started shaking. Hobi could smell the fear and anxiety. 

“That’s over now. We’re going to find out who’s doing it and where they are and stop them. You and this pup are safe. Anyone who comes in this house without our permission will have to get through us & the dogs,” Hobi told him. 

“Dogs?” Yoongi repeated.

“Two spoiled rotten pit bulls named Daisy and Violet,” Hobi told him. “They’re the biggest babies on the planet until they come across someone threatening their daddies.”

“What about me?” Yoongi asked. 

“You won’t be able to get Daisy out of your lap. She won’t be happy when we shoo her off until Tae has cleared you for lap time,” Hobi replied. “She pouts.” Yoongi smiled a little. 

“I don’t mean to be afraid of him,” Yoongi started. 

“But nurses aren’t your favorite people?” Hobi finished. 

“No,” he said. 

“He can be a jackass, but I’m biased. He’s my little brother,” Hobi grinned. 

“Sure,” Yoongi said. 

“Time to turn out the light?” Hobi asked. 

“Sounds good,” Yoongi said. 

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” Hobi told him as he leaned over and turned off the light. Then he felt Yoongi nosing around his neck scenting him. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” he whispered. 

“Then rub around all you want,” Hobi hoped he could keep his knot at bay. Now that Yoongi wasn’t reeking of anxiety and fear, he smelled...perfect. Hobi wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it was what came to mind. He was on bed rest for the pup and the most exertion he needed was to go to the bathroom and get back in bed. Maybe once the pup was out of the woods…

“You like me too, huh?” Yoongi said. Hobi looked down. Shit. 

“It’s not like that. I don’t want to, I mean I do, but we just met and the pup and everything,” Hobi stumbled over his words .

“I understand. The pup comes first,” he said. 

“Absolutely,” Hobi agreed. 

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Yoongi asked. 

“Is this a trick question?” Hobi asked. 

“No, but I didn’t expect to be rescued by an Alpha in the pouring rain after I escaped a Breeder Farm and was sure I was going to die in the mud. Every time one of those Alphas knotted me and hoped they’d get me pregnant so they could have their perfect pup, I’d pray that there was at least one Alpha in the world who didn’t want me, as you so aptly put it, as only a pup factory. It’s what kept me alive. One day I’d get out and one day I’d find that Alpha. I knew when I smelled you that you were different. You didn’t want me to die. I didn’t even realize I lost that pup until Tae said something. You would think I knew better after giving birth 5 times, but all I could think about was getting out. It was only after I fell down that I realized how bad it was. I dunno, maybe it’s only because I was dying that I thought the Alpha I’d dreamed about for years had finally found me,” Yoongi replied. 

“I started grooming you when Tae was examining you because it seemed to keep you calm. I don’t think I’ve ever groomed anything other than a horse or a dog,” Hobi replied. “That has to mean something, right?”

“Have you been looking for a mate?” Yoongi asked.

“No,” Hobi answered.

“Then it means something,” Yoongi said. He gently kissed Hobi. “Thank you for saving our lives, Hobi.”

“You’re welcome,” Hobi replied. “And so are you, pup number 10.” Yoongi put Hobi’s hand on his belly again. 

“Pup says thank you, too,” he said.

“Good night, Yoongi,”

“Good night, Hobi,”

[jemshopes]

Open Wounds

--sope / yoonseok  --angst, injury, harsh words

"It's like you never have time for me anymore."

 "I'm just trying to do what we always wanted."

"WE? In case you haven't noticed, 'Seok, there is no we anymore. it's just you on that stage."

*** 

Hoseok and Yoongi met during an audition that neither of them got. Fresh out of high school with no prospects and no money for higher education, not to mention no real talent in dancing, they were both laughed out of the building.

So Yoongi asked Hoseok if he wanted to go for a drink. Sure, they had no money to pay, but there were ways to get out of that. The bathroom windows in the bar were big and Yoongi knew for a fact he could fit through them. They deserved a pick-me-up after such a crappy day.

Within the month, they were roommates. Within the year, Hoseok had realised the hoard of girls he'd been traipsing through the apartment might have more to do with Yoongi than anything else. Within eighteen months, they were dating. And within two years their career was finally going somewhere. They were background dancers, improving, learning constantly, dipping their toes in the possibility of singing and acting. They were planning to conquer the world, produce albums, perform in stadiums.

And that was just what they did. They grew together, released songs, and signed with a music company. They were blissfully happy, in perfect sync. 

Until they weren't.

It was their seven year anniversary and Yoongi had been planning the evening for weeks. He could have sworn he'd bought everything he needed to make dinner, but at the last minute he had to run down to the corner shop.

That was when the car hit him. And everything changed. Dancing, walking, singing, sometimes even speaking–he just couldn't do it. He slurred his words, got lost in the middle of sentences, He mixed up dates, forgot they had eaten dinner less than an hour after they'd finished it

Hoseok supported him through it all. He cancelled his performances. He put his solo album on hold. For two, long years. But, eventually, he had to work again. For himself and for money.

Yoongi went with him sometimes, when they could arrange it. He could walk now, although never for long without exhaustion setting in. But as much as he loved seeing Hoseok in his element on stage, the travelling wore him down and it hurt that he couldn't be out there too.

So he stayed home more often. Hoseok, steadily gaining success, was with him less and less. It wasn't perfect or what he wanted, but it was okay. He cooked dinner for Hoseok every night and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Then Hoseok began missing dinner. Yoongi found himself falling asleep on the couch waiting for Hoseok to come home. His dinners went cold. Eventually, he stopped bothering to make them. They all ended up in the bin or being his lunch the next day.

The arguments were small at first, over petty little things. Then they got bigger. Until one night that blended into the long list of nights Yoongi ate dinner alone, sat up alone, and showered alone, he drank two coffees and waited in the dark.

Hoseok got home at three in the morning and the fight they had was loud enough for the entire building to hear. 

"It's like you never have time for me anymore."

"I'm just trying to do what we always wanted."

"WE? In case you haven't noticed, 'Seok, there is no we anymore. it's just you on that stage. The most I've done in the last three years is help produce a couple of songs. I can't even sing in them. There is no we, so don't try to make this into something you're doing 'for me'."

"It's not my fault you didn't look both ways when you crossed the road. I can't put my life on hold anymore just because you were careless."

It was those words that ended their relationship, Hoseok's burst of cruelty so vile and sudden that if he'd run Yoongi over with the intention of killing him it would have hurt less. They parted in hatred, bitter and proud.

Yoongi moved on with his life, forcing any reminders of Hoseok out of it. In some ways, it was easier than he expected. After all, he'd spent the last year with Hoseok working all the time.

Sometimes he saw Hoseok on the news. And it hurt, but it was okay. His life was better without Hoseok in it. He found a job he enjoyed, far removed from the world of performance. He went on dates, had sex. It was good. And he was only half faking it according to his therapist.

It was late at night, during a quiet get together with his close friends, that the doorbell rang, and he found Hoseok kneeling on the mat. 

"I know this is five years too late and I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but I am so, so sorry."