Chapter Text
jeongguk can feel it then, the lovely slow dawn of something languid and faintly sweet. there is smoke, mercury, liquid silver, dangerous eyes, the dry sound of snake skin rustling faintly at the edge of his awareness; and even fainter he can taste violet in his throat. something inside him kind of feels like crying, because he knew it was going to happen yet at the same time it feels like it's come out of nowhere.
yoongi
, he thinks
. i know you
.
thirty minutes deeper into the city of seoul, one min yoongi stirs in his sleep and is thrust from visions of ebony and ivory into long, extravagant corridors and the chill of the pale skin of aristocrats. he can hear wild strains of music far off into the distance, blending with the wailing of voices he cannot decipher and what sounds like the untamed beat of hand drums. he shies away from it, turning, and gasps when he's faced with shimmering deep cool blue so thick it slides down his throat, that he can smell it even when he holds his breath. it feels achingly sweet, innocent, elegant.
jeon jeongguk
, he chokes.
what do you think you're doing?
he sits upright slowly, like he's still dreaming, to touch his hand to his neck. heavy breaths fill the otherwise still room, suffocatingly still and invisible with darkness. he knows what he just saw-it was never supposed to happen to him, he doesn't believe in true love,
how could this happen to me
?
jeon jeongguk, and his wide sleepy eyes, his smooth fucking voice and something about the way he just fucking poured himself all over the empty spaces yoongi had, spaces he'd never noticed were vacant before, and now yoongi can't imagine waking up and not walking out to the studio and seeing his stupid face and feeling the comfortable, solid weight of his company, and the presence of what yoongi can now be sure is love.
jeon jeongguk loves him.
he loves him, too.
jeongguk, out of the haze of confusion and hesitant celebration, feels yoongi come to acceptance. he swells up with joy;
min yoongi loves him.
he sweeps out of bed and collects his phone off of the ground, staggering into his jeans while trying to make it to the door while shooting a text to jimin.
to: jimimimimimin hyung
hyung oh my god
from: jimimimimimin hyung
holy shit what is it
jeon jeongguk answer me it is 4 fucking a.m.
to: jimimimimimin hyung
i’m very aware
:)
from: jimimimimimin hyung
what do you mean
OH
OH MYNGOD JEONGFUK
*JEONGGUK
jeongguk smiles nervously and slips his phone into his pocket, and before it can buzz again he’s out the door and headed towards the heart of seoul, his own heart.
yoongi clutches his sheets to his chest like a scandalized lady, feeling jeongguk’s presence come closer. he’s aware of it now more than ever; jeongguk is jubilant, and so, so in love. it’s almost funny how things worked out this way; from meeting jeongguk at the bar, to hoseok mentioning jeongguk’s own underground musical career, to working long nights in the studio together, and now yoongi is so fucked because he’s ridiculously infatuated with this boy and he loves him.
jeongguk knocks three times like he always does and shoves past the door which is unlocked like it always is. yoongi is standing there with his blanket wrapped around him, looking small, and jeongguk feels all the confusion and conflicted emotions he felt from yoongi cease.
“hyung,” he breathes.
it takes three strides to carry him across the floor and for yoongi to drop his blanket to wrap wiry arms tight around his neck. “i love you, you asshole,” yoongi whispers fiercely. “you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”
yes, jeongguk thinks. you are.
hours later, jeongguk is lying flat on his back in yoongi’s room and yoongi is tucked against his chest. the blanket is gone, but yoongi is swamped in jeongguk’s clothes and the room is warm all the way through the floorboards. it continues to snow outside, but they are just as unaware as they were when it started.