True North

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/32958691.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga
Character: Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim
Seokjin | Jin, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Jeon Jungkook
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Long-Distance Relationship,
Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Road Trips, First Meetings, Punk Rock,
Developing Relationship, Communication, Vulnerability, Growing Up,
The Great American Eclipse of 2017, Depressed Min Yoongi | Suga,
Sweet Kim Namjoon | RM, Getting to Know Each Other, Intimacy,
Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal
Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, Camping, Angst and Fluff and
Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Guitarist Min Yoongi | Suga,
Drummer Kim Namjoon | RM, Online Relationship, A lot of references to
emo music and, A lot of time in cars, the inherent eroticism of the moon,
Falling In Love, do you think min yoongi has ever heard Tallahassee by
the mountain goats?
Language: English
Collections: Emo K-Fic Fest '21, relectura, Good Bangtan Shit
Stats: Published: 2021-08-26 Completed: 2021-11-04 Chapters: 11/11 Words:
117284

True North
by deepslowpanic

Summary

“Is it weird to say I miss someone I’ve never met?”

Namjoon chuckles on the other end of the line. “No, I don’t think so.” There’s a pause and
the rustling of blankets. “Though -” Namjoon’s voice is softer now, secretive, “if it is, I
don’t think I mind being weird.”

Yoongi turns his head, burying his face in his pillow to suppress his smile. “Yeah?” he
asks, just as softly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon confirms, “I miss you, too.”

-OR-

Long distance is hard, but it's even harder when you've never actually met. A road trip for
the solar eclipse is an opportunity for them to meet halfway, to finally connect and see if
the spark is real. It feels like there's so much on the line, but Yoongi won't let Namjoon slip
through his fingers.
Notes

This fic is inspired by the song For Me This is Heaven by Jimmy Eat World.

The title comes from West by Sleeping at Last.

Thank you to my beta Sumi for all of your help on this and finding the perfect balance I
was trying so hard to achieve. This would not be at all possible without you.

Check out the playlist Here!!

 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Is it weird to say I miss someone I’ve never met?”

Namjoon chuckles on the other end of the line. “No, I don’t think so.” There’s a pause and the
rustling of blankets. “Though -” Namjoon’s voice is softer now, secretive, “if it is, I don’t think I
mind being weird.”

Yoongi turns his head, burying his face in his pillow to suppress his smile. “Yeah?” he asks, just as
softly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon confirms, “I miss you, too.”

Yoongi sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, fighting the urge to giggle. “Who says I was talking
about you?” he drawls, trying for nonchalance.

There’s a snort and then Namjoon’s voice again. “Then I wasn’t talking about you either,” he
teases. Yoongi can picture him, laying on his side in his bed, one arm stretched in front of him,
phone pressed to his ear. He’s probably wearing that sweatshirt Yoongi sent, faded red with
Lobstercrombie & Pinch across the chest. It was meant to be a joke, but he’s pretty sure Namjoon
rarely takes it off.

Yoongi stretches his free arm across the sheets, fingers sliding across the cool surface, reaching.
He imagines, when he closes his eyes, that if he could just stretch a tiny bit farther, his fingers
could touch Namjoon’s. He blinks his eyes back open, the other side of the bed is still empty,
Namjoon is still two thousand miles away. “I miss you,” he whispers.
Yoongi hates the nights like this, when Namjoon’s breaths can be heard so softly through the
phone and he can feel every single mile between them.

“I miss you, too.” They’re quiet for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. Yoongi
glances at his bedside clock and frowns. He doesn’t want to hang up, doesn’t want to say goodbye
again. “How long?” Namjoon asks quietly.

Yoongi smiles into his pillow. They do this every night, counting down the days like a prayer.
“Thirty-two days.”

“Thirty-two days,” Namjoon echoes, “until I can see you for real.”

“I made you a new playlist,” Yoongi smiles at Namjoon’s voice, a soft rumble through his
headphones.

Yoongi can’t help his smile. “Oh? What’s this one for?”

“I was just thinking about you last night...” he trails off, sounding suddenly shy.

The same reason he always gives for each playlist that Namjoon texts him. A Spotify link, playlist
labeled with the date, sometimes sent in the middle of the night for Yoongi to wake up to. He likes
to listen to them on his way to work, the days don’t seem so lonely and terrible when music that
Namjoon chose, thinking specifically about him, is playing in his ears.

“Japanese Breakfast has that new album out, I put one of their songs on there.”

Yoongi hums, leaning back against his kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew. “Dream
pop? That’s not like you.” Yoongi fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

“You make me feel…” Namjoon trails off again. “Listen to it?”

Yoongi lets his eyes slip closed, imagining Namjoon is here with him, that the voice in his ears is
not through his headphones but from someone leaning against the opposite wall. He opens his eyes
and Namjoon is not there. Namjoon is at home, half a continent away, making playlists in the
middle of the night because Yoongi makes him feel. “I will,” he promises.

Yoongi’s walk to work is filled with the soft, dreamy sounds of the playlist Namjoon made for
him. Introspective, a little melancholy, but nice, sweet. Yoongi finds himself smiling, fingers
tapping against his thigh as he moves around other pedestrians on the sidewalk.

It helps him relax, quiet the noise in his head that comes with another day of work. Thoughts of
Namjoon and his quiet voice, his dimpled smile, ease him like nothing else. As the building comes
into view and the familiar nervous tingling in his fingers begins, he turns his music up and tries not
to scream.

Sometimes Yoongi regrets dropping out of college. Even if it was a money sink towards something
he didn't have much interest in, maybe he wouldn't be here, in his least favorite place in the
universe. To the veritable army of tourists in the colonnade, it probably doesn't feel as bad, but to
Yoongi, Quincy Market is hell on earth.

The food colonnade during lunch time in the summer is loud and packed, a crush of bodies filling
the lane between the food stalls. It’s a nightmare of a place, always too hot and too crowded, the
beautiful old building reduced to loud noise and a riot of different smells. And Yoongi stands
behind the counter at the 'Net, bright blue shirt and white hat on, taking orders for clams, chowder,
and fries. The smile plastered to his face is making his cheeks ache and his throat is raw from
trying to speak over the roar of the crowd.

The only positive to working the lunch shift in the summer is that it passes quickly. He barely has
time to hate his life and think about how he'll smell faintly fishy later when the line is never
ending.

Yoongi is exhausted by the time his break comes around. He picks at a plate of greasy fries as he
sits in the back, trying to stop trembling. The playlist helps again, and a text from Namjoon with a
picture of a fluffy cat helps more. But Yoongi has to work four more hours once his legally
mandated thirty-minute break ends.

"Yoongi."

The voice is barely audible over his music but Yoongi glances up from his plate. He straightens,
quickly removing his headphones when he sees his manager in front of him, frowning. Clearing his
throat, he offers what he hopes is a pleasant smile. "Hi, Derek."

Derek is, to put it bluntly, an asshole. His opinion of himself is directly proportional to the amount
of gel in his hair and Axe body spray coating his clothes. He seems to find some kind of strange
pleasure in the very limited power he has as the manager at their shitty little restaurant, and he
loves to lord it over the staff. Especially Yoongi.

Yoongi's not sure if it's because he doesn't react to his shit or because maybe he's some kind of
racist or homophobe, but he seems to find a perverse joy in making Yoongi's life extra miserable.

And Yoongi knows exactly why he's suddenly appeared, smiling his greasy smile. His time off
request.

"A full week is a lot of time to be off," Derek drawls, staring down his nose at Yoongi still seated
at the tiny table in the break room.

Making a conscious effort not to fidget under the stare, Yoongi just nods. "I'm going out of state,"
he explains, "my trip is already booked." He hopes by saying that, it'll give him more of a chance.
Nonrefundable, travel arranged. Maybe.

"Going somewhere fun?"

Why does he care? "There's a solar eclipse. I'm going on a road trip to see it and meet a…" he
pauses, swallows, "friend." Namjoon is so much more than a friend, but Derek doesn’t need to
know that.

Derek raises an eyebrow but doesn't press further. "Alright, I've approved it in the system."
Yoongi's heart soars, he fights the urge to hug the man. "But," he continues, and Yoongi stiffens,
"this is a big request, you won't be able to take any other time for a while."

"That's fine," Yoongi says immediately. There's nowhere else he wants to go. Namjoon is it,
Namjoon is everything. "I won't."

With one final unfriendly glare, Derek nods and turns away, heading toward the kitchen. Slumping
in his seat, Yoongi can't help but grin. It's official. He's going. He's traveling to meet Namjoon.
Finally, fucking finally.
The last four hours of his shift aren't nearly as horrible as the first four. Nothing can dull his mood,
not when he knows he's a month away from finally meeting the man he’s been talking to for over a
year. His first time meeting someone he has only known and fallen in love with through a screen. It
will make things feel more real, make Yoongi feel a little less silly about calling Namjoon his
boyfriend. The extra spring in his step when he walks home makes him feel like he could float.

When he collapses onto his couch at home, he doesn't even mind the vaguely briny scent of his
clothes. And pulling his guitar toward himself, it's not a sad emo ballad he's thinking of tonight, but
something bright and colorful, hopeful.

Yoongi sighs, sinking into the desk chair in front of his computer. His hair is still a little damp
from the shower, dripping down his back as he pulls up his editing software. The scent of chowder
no longer invades his senses and he's pleasantly full of instant noodles and beer. Now he can relax,
focus on something that can actually make him happy. He had recorded the video the other
afternoon, when the sun had been streaming through his windows and things felt okay. No work
that day, just sunlight in the city and a voice message from Namjoon about his job at the library.

His lower back aches and his feet are sore from standing for hours on end, but he's used to that.
The familiar twinge in his neck from hunching over his computer feels worth it when he can lose
himself in creating something. Something he creates with his own two hands, other than a platter of
fried seafood. Songs he plucks out on the guitar, covers and ones he writes himself late at night or
in the early hours of the morning. Songs that make him think of Namjoon, that make him want
something more.

The buzzing of his phone startles him and he jumps a little, blinking blearily as he comes back to
himself. He's not sure how much time has passed, but his eyes burn a little and his back cracks as
he straightens up. Picking up his phone, he sees a new text from Namjoon, asking if he's busy.
Smiling, Yoongi leans back in his chair and taps at the screen, starting a facetime call.

It's only seconds and then - Namjoon. His face filling the screen, dimpled smile on display and
eyes shining. Something swoops low in Yoongi's belly, that familiar feeling of swirling feathers
and tiny wings that Namjoon evokes in him.

"Hey, Yoon," Namjoon says softly, voice low.

Yoongi smiles, taking in Namjoon leaning back on his couch, looking slightly sleepy. He's wearing
the sweatshirt Yoongi sent him, the hood pulled over his bleached hair. "Hey, good day?"

"Mhm," Namjoon agrees, "just long, you know."

Unlike Yoongi, Namjoon finished college and has an actual job. As a data librarian, Namjoon does
not spend his days slinging chowder and being yelled at by tourists. Yoongi was embarrassed at
first, to tell Namjoon where he worked. His job is nothing nearly as adult and professional. But
Namjoon never seems to mind, only sending Yoongi bath bombs and soothing aromatherapy
lotions for his sore feet.

Namjoon is good and kind and way more than Yoongi deserves.

"Yeah, same." Yoongi shifts in his chair and gives a shy smile. "I have good news."

Eyes widening, Namjoon sits up straight, hood sliding off his head. "Did you -"

"Yeah, approved today."

The grin Namjoon gives him is dazzling, eyes closing with the force of his smile. "Holy shit," he
gasps, "this is really happening."

"It is," Yoongi agrees. "We're really doing this, we're - I'm going to get to see you for real."

Namjoon sinks back onto the couch, sighing dreamily. "I can't wait, babe." The pet name makes
Yoongi's heart skip a beat. "All I want is to hold you."

"Yeah," Yoongi breathes, grinning right back. Nothing has ever sounded so wonderful.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Namjoon asks for what must be the tenth time.

Swallowing hard, Yoongi tries to catch his breath. It’s his third coughing fit in less than half an
hour, his throat is scratchy and raw. “I’m alright,” he rasps, blinking tears from his streaming eyes.
“Just a tickle in my throat.”

“You’ve been coughing nonstop,” Namjoon argues. “You must be very ticklish then,” he
deadpans.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?" Yoongi tries for teasing but his voice comes out as a croak.
Namjoon still humors him with a small snort.

“Yes, Yoongi, I would like to find out,” Namjoon agrees, voice neutral. “But if you die of
consumption basically two weeks before I get to see you, I’ll never know.”

Huffing a ragged laugh, Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Consumption, Namjoon? This isn’t the Oregon
Trail.”

“That’s a fantastic game and you know it.” A pause. “I’m just worried, you were so sick this winter
when you had that cold, I don’t want you to get sick again.”

Yoongi frowns at the memory. He was sick, terribly so, with chills that made his entire body quake
and a cough that rattled his bones. “That was different,” Yoongi challenges, “this is just allergies.”

It was different because the cold Yoongi caught in the winter was because he couldn’t entirely
afford all his utilities. He had kept the heat down as low as possible, just warm enough to make
sure his toes didn’t freeze. He wore two pairs of socks and extra layers for months to make sure he
could buy Namjoon a good Christmas present. It was stupid, Yoongi knows it was, but he felt
desperate to do something, to find the perfect gift. A couple records costing almost 500 dollars
total was worth it when he saw Namjoon’s smile over their video call. He told Namjoon he had
saved for it, which he had, just at the expense of his heat and food budget.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Namjoon doesn’t sound convinced. “Can you get some allergy medicine?

Yoongi swallows around what feels like a jagged lump in his throat. Just allergies. “I can pick
some up before work tomorrow, don’t wor –,” his words cut off as he dissolves into another
coughing fit. His chest aches with the force of it.

“Yoongi…” Namjoon begins, voice laced with concern.

"Allergies," Yoongi insists, clearing his throat and reaching for the bottle of water next to him. "I'm
fine, Namjoon."
 ⟿

It’s not allergies. That much becomes abundantly clear when Yoongi wakes to the blaring of his
alarm the next morning. His body aches down to his bones and his throat is on fire. The throbbing
in his head only intensifies when he sits up, groaning as his muscles fight him. He begins to shiver
as the blankets slide away, though he’s sweating as if he’s been running on the esplanade. Yoongi
cannot lie to himself with all of this evidence, it is not allergies and he is not fine.

His legs feel like jelly when he tries to stand and he grips his headboard as he drags himself to his
feet. Static overwhelms him, his head spinning as he tries to breathe through the dizziness that
washes over him. Yoongi barely manages to stumble to the bathroom before his stomach turns
itself inside out and his dinner from the night before makes a reappearance. Whimpering, Yoongi
flops onto his side on the cool tile of his bathroom, cheek resting on his bathmat. He can’t be sick,
not now, not when he’s almost two weeks away from his trip. There’s no way he can go into work,
but Derek had already made it clear he couldn’t take any more time off. But this is different, this
isn’t a vacation.

Yoongi is not proud to say he practically crawls back to his bed, head pounding and throat burning.
His fingers shake as he taps out a text on his phone, telling his manager he’s ill and won’t be in. He
barely manages a second text to Namjoon before his phone falls from his fingers and he’s dragged
back into sleep.

Blearily, Yoongi becomes aware of fingers carding through his hair, soft voices around him. For a
moment, he thinks it must be Namjoon. Namjoon’s cool fingers stroking his hair off his sweaty
forehead, the weight of Namjoon sitting beside him on the bed. Somehow, he is here, speaking
softly and soothingly, stepping right out of his dreams. But then the voices resolve themselves and
Namjoon is not one of them, of course he’s not.

Namjoon is still in Denver, not in Yoongi’s shoebox apartment in Boston’s West End.

Cracking his eyes open, Yoongi blinks, waiting for the blurry shape beside him to resolve. Hoseok.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Hoseok coos, stroking Yoongi’s greasy hair. “How ya feeling?”

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but all that emerges is a dull croak.

“Water, help him sit up Hobi.” Another voice, Seokjin, businesslike and authoritative as he strides
into Yoongi’s bedroom carrying a bottle of water.

“You heard the boss,” Hoseok says softly, winding an arm beneath Yoongi’s body to help him sit
up.

Grimacing, Yoongi allows Hoseok to hoist him up and prop him against his rumpled pillows.
“Why are you here?” he rasps after a few sips of water.

“Namjoon texted,” Seokjin says primly. “The fact that you’d text your long-distance boyfriend
instead of your friends who live two neighborhoods over is just rude.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Leave him alone, babe, he’s sick.”

“Clearly." He directs his attention to Yoongi. "You look like shit,” Seokjin snaps, before turning
on his heel and striding out of the room.
“What did I…” Yoongi trails off, confused. He hears the sound of cabinets being opened and
closed loudly in the other room.

Hoseok helps him lay back down and gives him an apologetic smile. “He’s just worried, you know
how he is.”

“He doesn’t have to be such a dick,” Yoongi grumbles, burrowing under his blankets.

Tugging the blankets up, Hoseok smooths them over Yoongi’s chest, making sure he’s well tucked
in. “You never take care of yourself,” Hoseok says gently. “And you know it makes Jinnie nervous
when you shut him out. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

It’s not intentional, well mostly. Yoongi knows that Seokjin doesn’t approve of him traveling to
meet Namjoon. He thinks it’s ridiculous and dangerous, a waste of time. Yoongi hadn’t spoken to
him for a week after that one, furious at how Seokjin could reduce Namjoon to a waste. But he
knew Seokjin didn’t mean it, knew that Seokjin just worries and wants him to be happy and safe.

It’s been over a year now since Yoongi and Namjoon “met” and Seokjin has spoken to him over
video call multiple times. Things should be comfortable, it’s obvious at this point that Namjoon is
who he says he is, but Seokjin is endlessly skeptical.

“Why won’t he just let me be happy?” Yoongi huffs, rolling onto his side.

“You know that’s all we want,” Hoseok insists. “And Seokjin knows Namjoon makes you happy,
he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.” Hoseok pauses and shifts on the bed, readjusting so he can
rub soothing circles into Yoongi’s back. “We don’t want a repeat of…” he trails off.

He doesn’t have to say it. Yoongi knows, he always knows. It’s clear in the way they look at him
sometimes, wary and nervous, how they handle him with kid gloves and soft voices.

“It’s not like that anymore,” Yoongi murmurs into his pillow. Things aren’t like two years ago. He
went to therapy, he takes his medication and he does things that make him happy. And he has
Namjoon to pull him out of the dark recesses of his mind, to color in the jagged edges and make
him feel whole. “It’s better." Namjoon makes it better.

Because Namjoon makes him want to be better. Namjoon pushes him to do more, achieve more.
Yoongi tries harder when he knows Namjoon is cheering him on, he doesn’t let himself be pushed
down. He’s even been thinking about getting a different job, maybe an Associate’s degree.
Namjoon tells him he can do things, he is worthwhile and smart, and maybe Yoongi believes him
sometimes.

“I know, Yoon, we just - we love you, okay?” Hoseok’s hand falls away from his back. “I’m going
to run you a bath,” Hoseok says gently. “Seokjin is just heating up some soup he made you.”

Yoongi feels guilty at that, knowing Seokjin will have rushed out for ingredients to make him
homemade soup or porridge, something to help. And then they rushed over to care for him. The
bed shifts as Hoseok gets up and Yoongi hears footsteps retreat, and then a different pair
approaching.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” Yoongi mumbles, not rolling over as the bed shifts again.

There’s a soft snort, the clinking of dishes. “I know you are,” Seokjin says, his voice less clipped.
“Come on, sit up again?”

Haltingly, Yoongi forces himself to sit up, accepting the tray Seokjin has brought him. Soup and
orange juice, a few brightly colored cold tablets. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry,” Seokjin says airily, crossing one leg over the other. “It’s my job as your best
friend.”

“Hoseok is my best friend,” Yoongi answers immediately, a reflex. They all know it’s not true, but
Yoongi makes the joke anyway, as he always does. “Thank you,” he adds softly as he brings a
spoonful of soup to his lips.

Seokjin hums in acknowledgement, turning to stare out the window beside Yoongi’s bed. “I’m
sorry too.” He pauses. “I like Namjoon, I just don’t want you to get hurt or make a mistake.”

“I know,” Yoongi replies, stirring the soup absently. “I’m scared too, I just – I have to do this. I
need to, you know?”

“I do,” Seokjin agrees, giving him a sad smile. Yoongi knows what it means, that look. What about
after? What about when you come back and he’s still two thousand miles away and you wait
another year to see each other, what about then? But he doesn’t say it, and Yoongi pretends he
doesn’t see it in his eyes.

“I need to see him,” Yoongi repeats. “He’s…” Yoongi trails off, unsure how to put it. Seokjin’s
heard it all before, he knows.

Seokjin seems to understand, sighing before pushing himself up. He steps away but pauses, turning
back to look over his shoulder. “I do want you to be happy,” he insists, and heads back into the
kitchen.

“I wish I could be there to take care of you,” Namjoon says softly through the phone.

Yoongi wishes it too, more than anything. He’s been sick for four days and is finally feeling more
like himself. Seokjin and Hoseok have been over daily to check on him, bringing food and juice,
make him shower. And Namjoon has called and texted, video chatted after work. Yoongi can
almost pretend, with his eyes closed and the phone on the pillow next to him, that Namjoon is in
bed beside him. Almost.

“I’m alright,” Yoongi replies. “I feel better today, I’m going to go in for my shift tomorrow.”

The messages from his manager had become almost hostile by this morning when Yoongi called
out. Four days in a row of absences does not endear him to anyone, even if he had a fever. He’s
surprised they didn’t ask for a doctor’s note, maybe they will when he goes in. But with Yoongi’s
shitty health insurance plan as a full-time worker at the ‘Net, he can’t afford more than a yearly
appointment for a refill on his antidepressants.

“Don’t push yourself,” Namjoon insists. “Stay home if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Yoongi would love to stay home, to never go back to the colonnade and the crowds, but he needs
the money. Especially with the trip so close, he’s been budgeting out how much tolls and gas will
cost him, the amount he’ll need to spend on food and places to sleep. Plus the Airbnb and things to
do once they actually get there. He needs the paycheck.

“I’m alright, Joonie,” he repeats, “don’t worry.” Yoongi shifts in bed, pulls his blankets tighter
around him, pretending they could be Namjoon’s arms. “Tell me about your day?”
Namjoon doesn’t push him, just agrees and begins talking about his day. Yoongi gets lost in
Namjoon’s quiet words, his calming voice. By the time they're hanging up an hour or so later,
Yoongi feels better.

“We’re so close,” Namjoon whispers before they end the call.

“Eleven days,” Yoongi whispers back.

“Eleven days,” Namjoon repeats. He’s quiet for a moment, and then his voice again, still soft, but
earnest this time. “I love you.”

Warmth blooms in Yoongi’s chest, flower petals unfurling at Namjoon’s words, the way he says
them with his whole heart. It’s easy to know Namjoon means it. “I love you too,” Yoongi replies,
tries to put the same feeling into it, the same affection and devotion. He knows Namjoon can feel
it, even from so far away.

Yoongi, of course, expects the cold treatment from his manager upon his return. Derek does not
ask how he's feeling when he arrives and just glares when Yoongi excuses himself to the back for a
coughing fit. He can feel the man's eyes on his back as he works, making his skin prickle and his
fingers shake. When Yoongi is clocking out at the end of his shift, Derek is lurking nearby. Yoongi
half expects to be fired when he finally approaches.

"Feeling better?" he asks, though it's clear he doesn't care about the answer. He is uncomfortably
close and Yoongi wants to run.

"Mostly," Yoongi answers. "Thank you for asking. I'm sure you were concerned."

Derek's lips press into a thin line and his face turns a little pink. That may have been taking it a bit
too far, but Yoongi doesn't need to be treated like shit for being sick. He's already dead on his feet,
exhausted from a full eight-hour shift when he's not entirely well. The last thing he needs is Derek
and his cloud of body spray making it worse.

Yoongi braces himself, preparing for the hammer to fall, for Derek to fire him. But it doesn't come.
Derek just studies him and then his eyes flick to the door, where another employee has just come
through.

Stepping back, Derek clears his throat. "Right, well. Don't let it happen again." His tone is
businesslike, professional.

Don't let it happen again. As if it's Yoongi's fault he had the flu. Maybe if he had better health
insurance and worked less hours, he could take better care of himself. But he doesn't want to argue.
He's so close to his trip, so close to Namjoon.

"Right," Yoongi says stiffly, backing toward the door. "I won't." And then he's out, through the
door and ripping his hat off his head. He takes great gulps of air as soon as he's outside, trying to
calm the frantic beating of his heart.

He can deal with this. He can put up with Derek and work and overpriced Boston rent that makes
him have to keep this job. It's all worth it, when he'll see Namjoon in ten days. He doesn't need to
think about what happens after, how things will go back to this. All he needs to think about is how
Namjoon's voice will sound in person.

⟿
"There are so many interesting places to stop," Yoongi says as he clicks on another website. "This
seems cool, a coffee pot house."

Namjoon hums, intrigued. "Can you get coffee there?"

"I don't think so." Yoongi clicks around the website. "I think it's just a place where I can take a
cool picture and stretch my legs."

"Are you choosing all the weirdest ones?"

"No," Yoongi scoffs, pauses. "Maybe."

Namjoon's laughter, surprised and bright, crackles over the speakers. Yoongi can't help but smile at
the sound, at the way it's higher pitched than Namjoon's voice, often wrought with giggles. "I
knew it, tell me about the others.

"No," Yoongi grumbles, "you'll just tease me."

Another soft chuckle. "Baby," Namjoon coos, turning Yoongi's insides to jelly, "please?"

And who is Yoongi to say no to that voice and that endearment?

"Fine," he huffs. "There's a giant statue of a pioneer woman on the first day." He pauses, rolls his
eyes at himself. "And a giant paint can."

"Why do you like giant things so much? Is it because you're so short?"

Yoongi squawks in outrage, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not short!"

"You told me your height, you're a baby compared to me. I knew you were a size queen, Yoongs,
but -"

"I'm cancelling the trip," Yoongi deadpans. "We're breaking up."

More laughter, Namjoon sounds positively gleeful. "Guess I'll just road trip all by myself, eat
barbecue by myself, sleep in the Airbnb all by myself." Namjoon's voice shifts, becoming somber.
"Oh woe is me, I have lost love before I even held it in my hands. What justice is -"

"Are you drunk? You're acting ridiculous." Yoongi tries to sound mad, knows he just sounds
endeared. It's hard not to be, hard not to be filled with warmth and affection when talking to
Namjoon. Especially when Namjoon is like this, happy and playful.

"I'm just excited," Namjoon admits. "I feel kind of high, honestly, just at the thought of getting to
see you. I just - it almost doesn't feel real."

Yoongi smiles, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "It's real," he whispers. "Right?"

"Very real," Namjoon confirms. "Jimin pinched me when I told him it felt like a dream." Yoongi
snorts and Namjoon continues. "Don't laugh, he nearly broke the skin!"

"From a pinch?" Yoongi teases.

"Shut up," Namjoon grumbles, "tell me more about your stops. Is there a giant ball of twine too?"

Yoongi returns to his spreadsheet, glancing at the route he's mapped out. "No, but there is a giant
pencil."
"Of course there is," Namjoon sighs. "Did you get the spreadsheet I sent you? With all the tolls
and stuff added?"

Yoongi clicks to a different window. "I did, thank you." The insane amount he'll have to spend on
tolls stares back at him. Namjoon had mapped out where all the tolls were, adding up how much
Yoongi would need to pay. That combined with Yoongi's own tracker for gas, food, and motel
stays makes him sweat a little.

"You've got enough, right? Because if not, I can -"

"I have enough," Yoongi interrupts. He's not a burden, not trying to be. At least not more of one.
Namjoon already bears the burden of his emotions, the depressive lows he sinks into. He doesn't
need to drain his boyfriend in any other ways. And things will be tight, of course, but he can
manage. "Don't worry," he reassures Namjoon, "I have everything I need."

Well, almost. He will soon, when he has Namjoon.

Lying on his bed, Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed, smiling up at his ceiling with his phone
beside him on the pillow. The beat and crash of drums comes through the speaker. It shouldn't be
so soothing, it's loud and fast, nothing relaxing. But somehow Namjoon playing along to Keasbey
Nights makes him smile, helps him to melt into his mattress.

As the song ends and the last cymbal crash fades out, Yoongi rolls onto his side, smiling into his
pillow. There are the sounds of shuffling, what sounds like a dropped drumstick accompanied by a
quiet curse, and then Namjoon's voice, a little breathless. "What did you think?"

"Amazing, Joonie, as always. I love that song."

"Me too," Namjoon agrees. Yoongi hears the crack of a bottle being opened, probably Namjoon
drinking water. "You think I can play it well enough to record?"

Yoongi snorts, everything Namjoon plays is good enough to record. He rarely misses a beat, his
arms moving with the rhythm so perfectly. "Of course, maybe I'll do a guitar one."

"Yeah?" Namjoon prompts. "We could post them on the same day again."

"Maybe, I haven't had a lot of time to play lately." Yoongi's been busy with work and getting ready
for the trip. It seems like there's always something to do, something to plan or pack. And now that
they're just under a week out, well, Yoongi just wants to be prepared. "I'll try to post something
before I leave, it's been a little while."

"You still have Memory recorded, right? You haven't posted that yet."

He could do that, then he doesn't have to worry about recording something new. He can just edit
and post. He's been a little more absent from his channel than usual and he feels a little guilty.
There have been comments asking about the next video and plenty of messages on Twitter asking
for more, requesting songs. When Yoongi started his little YouTube channel, it was just to cover
his favorite songs, maybe post a few of his own. Just Yoongi and his guitar. He didn't expect to
amass a small following, to have actual viewers. And he certainly didn't expect to meet Namjoon.

"Maybe I'll try to do that tomorrow," he says finally. "Will you record this one?"

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow. We'll see." A pause, the sound of Namjoon flopping onto a soft surface,
probably his bed or couch. "What are you doing now?"

"Nothing," Yoongi admits, "just lying in bed listening to you play."

A snort, disbelieving. "Not much of a lullaby," he teases. "Play me something?"

Sitting up, Yoongi reaches for his acoustic guitar, unable to stop the small smile stretching his lips.
"Alright, what do you want?"

"Something soft," Namjoon says, "sing for me?"

"Do I have to?" Yoongi groans. He doesn't often sing when he plays, not confident with his voice.
But for Namjoon...

"Please?"

With a sigh, Yoongi settles his guitar in his lap, strumming the strings to make sure it's still in tune.
He searches his mind for a song, settles on one, and begins to play. As his eyes slip closed and he
begins to sing along, softly, a little off key, it's easy to believe Namjoon is across from him.
Namjoon is here on his bed, cross legged facing him, their knees nearly touching. But when
Yoongi's eyes flutter open, his voice falters a little when he remembers he's alone.

"It's the first solar eclipse in the US in almost forty years," Namjoon says brightly. "And it'll last
for around two minutes. Can you believe it?"

Namjoon has been rambling on about the eclipse for the better part of half an hour. Yoongi has not
wanted to interrupt, hasn't cut in at all, content to listen to Namjoon gush about totality and saros
cycles. He can't help but smile, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he stirs pasta on the
stove.

"And I - babe are you listening?"

"Of course I am," Yoongi responds. "Two minutes of darkness, we won't even need a telescope and
you've gotten us special glasses."

There's a beat of silence. "I'm not boring you, am I?" Namjoon asks, a note of worry to his voice. "I
don't mean to, ya know, nerd out about this stuff. I'm just excited, it's not every day this stuff
happens."

"Mhm," Yoongi agrees, "only every forty years."

"Yoon," Namjoon whines, "come on."

Yoongi smiles, shifting his phone to his other ear. "Of course you're not boring me. I love listening
to you talk about this stuff, I like anything you're passionate about."

"I can stop," Namjoon mumbles, "we can talk about something else if you want."

"No," Yoongi says immediately. "Tell me more?"

"You're sure?" Namjoon's voice, soft and hopeful, a little disbelieving.

Yoongi smiles again, cocking a hip against the counter. "Tell me about the path, again? How many
states will see it?"
"Okay, well -" Namjoon begins, off on another monologue. And Yoongi grins, feeling warm and
content, as he listens to his boyfriend speak.

Namjoon had confided once before, late one night after a few beers on either end of the phone, that
he sometimes felt like too much. Namjoon is smart and loves learning new things, things he wants
to share with the people he loves. He worries about pushing people away, overwhelming them,
being accidentally condescending. Yoongi was quick to assure him that he never felt that way, that
he loved listening to Namjoon talk, loved listening to how he spoke about the things he loved.

Yoongi sometimes wonders if that's how Namjoon sounds when he talks about him.

Yoongi's eyes burn, and there's an uncomfortable ache in his back from the way he's been hunched
over his computer. Groaning, he leans back and stretches his arms over his head. His muscles
stretch and his joints pop, uncoiling after being tensed for too long. Glancing at the clock in the
corner of his computer screen, Yoongi sighs. He should go to bed, it's nearly two and he has to be
to work at ten.

But time is running short, only three days until he leaves, and he's not nearly ready. Most of his
things are packed, his route is planned and he has lists upon lists for everything. Except for this,
the most important list.

Yoongi saves every playlist Namjoon sends him, keeping them in his Spotify library so he can
listen to them again. It's nice, sometimes, to listen to how Namjoon was feeling on a certain day, to
know how he was feeling about Yoongi. Yoongi has sent a few playlists, or songs he's written and
recorded, covers. But nothing so grand as Namjoon's. Nothing like hundreds of specially curated
playlists that make Yoongi want to curl up in his bed and grin into his pillow.

So Yoongi is trying to return the favor, and it has to be perfect. He's been working on it for a week
now, the perfect road trip playlist. Songs he loves, songs Namjoon loves, other ones he finds.
Songs that fit the mood, fit the adventure, fit the love. He wants to send a message like Namjoon
does.

This is how I feel. This is how I feel about meeting you. I love you.

It just has to be right.

And he's been staying up far too late to make it happen. He's choosing everything carefully, songs
that evoke just the right feelings. Songs that show his love, that show how much this all means to
him. It's silly, maybe, feeling so much from a relationship that started online, something his friends
said wouldn't last. But it has, it is. They're finally meeting and eventually they won't have to leave,
won't have to plan meetings.

Eventually, someday, they will be together for real, not just for three days in Tennessee. But, for
now, Yoongi will take the three days he's been promised. He will take them and he will try to let it
be enough, just like this playlist will be enough to show how he feels.

But then it all goes wrong. Two and a half days left, and it all goes to shit. Yoongi is at work, sweat
beading at his temples as the crowd of tourists shouts orders at him. His fingers fly over the
register screen and he forces smiles as he takes sweaty dollars and credit cards.

The day has dragged, every day has since he's been sick. The time he's at home flies by, slipping
away in an instant. But not work. It's as if it's holding him hostage, refusing to relinquish the hold it
has on him. Every day feels longer than the last as the seconds tick away.

But today, today is almost over. Then he just has two days to get through and he'll be on his way to
Nashville and Namjoon.

When Yoongi’s shift finally ends, he heads into the back to clock out, tugging his hat off his
sweaty hair to run his hands through the flattened blonde locks. He should bleach his hair again
before he goes, just to freshen up. His roots are showing and he really wants to look his best.
Namjoon has seen him, all of him, through phone and computer screens. But that only shows so
much, the graininess can hide some imperfections. Yoongi has stopped worrying about not being
enough, about Namjoon not finding him attractive in real life, mostly. But taking a little extra care
wouldn’t hurt. He can call Hoseok tonight and -

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s head snaps to the side, neck cracking, to see Derek watching him. He’s at his tiny locker,
pulling his headphones and flannel from inside, Derek just a few feet away. There’s a look on his
face that Yoongi can’t entirely read, but he knows it’s not good. A shiver of foreboding passes
through him, dread settling in his bones. He doesn’t answer, just slowly closes his locker and turns
to fully face his manager.

“Your schedule,” Derek says easily, “I thought you’d want to see it.”

Confused, Yoongi takes the proffered sheet of paper. The schedule is normally hung up, why
would Derek be giving him one individually? And he shouldn’t need a schedule, he should be off
for a week. He should -

Static fills Yoongi’s mind as he stares down at the paper. He’s scheduled during his trip, almost
every day. It has to be a mistake he - Derek is smiling when Yoongi looks up. An oily, cruel thing
that twists him into something almost monstrous.

“Why is -”

“I told you that you couldn’t take any additional time,” Derek interrupts. “You took four days off.”

Yoongi can feel himself starting to tremble, his hands shaking. “I was sick.”

“You didn’t even bring a doctor’s note,” Derek says with a snort. “Unexcused absence for four
days, not a good look.” Derek studies him. “I expect to see you for these shifts.”

Derek turns and walks away without another word, leaving Yoongi speechless, rooted to the floor.
He can’t even defend himself, can’t argue. Suddenly he is powerless, frozen in the back room of
his workplace with his flannel clutched in his shaking hands.

The tears don’t come, not like he expects them to, not even when he gets home. Numbness has
invaded his mind, keeping him somehow calm, despite the shaking in his limbs. Namjoon answers
on the first ring when he calls.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

Yoongi sinks onto the edge of his bed, gnawing at his thumbnail. “My manager told me I can’t
have the time off.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, level. “Since I was sick, I can’t take vacation anymore.”

Silence, a heavy pause and then a sigh. “God, what the fuck?” Namjoon sounds stunned. “Your
manager is the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, he’s an ass.” Yoongi swallows hard, a lump seems to be forming in his throat and his eyes
are beginning to burn. “But I -”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon interrupts. “We can reschedule, we can just cancel the trip. I’m sure you can
take time again soon and we can meet another time.”

No. Not another time. Yoongi doesn’t want to wait any longer.

“Maybe Thanksgiving?” Namjoon offers. “Or Christmas?”

Three or four more months? When it should only be three or four days? It’s too much.

“What’s another few months?” Namjoon offers, trying for a light tone. But Yoongi can hear the
sadness in his voice, hear the way his voice breaks just a little. The disappointment is clear. But
Namjoon is so kind and understanding, trying to ease Yoongi’s worries, put on a brave face. “We
can figure it out.”

Yoongi doesn't want to figure it out. He’s not waiting longer for this. It’s been long enough.

“No,” Yoongi says firmly. “I’ll ask again, I’m sure I can get the time.” His tone does not allow
argument. Yoongi falls onto his side, curling up into a ball. “Please don’t cancel anything.”

“Okay,” Namjoon whispers, “okay, baby. I won’t.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, Yoongi tries to fight back the tears he can feel welling. A sob tries to
claw its way up his throat and he shoves his face into his pillow. “I love you,” he rasps, voice raw.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon whispers, “I love you.”

Confrontation is not one of Yoongi’s strong suits. He’s never been the best at standing up for
himself. From bullies in middle school and disappointed parents to asshole bosses and rude
customers at his job. But he's determined this time. It doesn't matter how anxious he feels, doesn't
matter that his tongue feels too big for his mouth.

Shoulders square, Yoongi marches through the back door and into the back room of the 'Net. His
palms are definitely sweaty and there's a light tremor in his limbs, but he can do this. Did he listen
to a playlist of songs to pump himself up on the way over? Absolutely. Did he give himself a pep
talk in his bathroom mirror and another silent one on his walk to work? Definitely.

Derek is in the tiny closet of a manager's office when Yoongi approaches, his head bent over a pile
of papers. Steeling himself, Yoongi takes a deep breath and knocks on the doorframe.

Looking up, Derek blinks, taking Yoongi in. "What do you want?" His voice is cold, disinterested.

"I want the time you had approved," Yoongi declares. "My trip is nonrefundable and I've been
planning it for months."

His manager studies him for a few seconds before leaving back in his chair, folding his hands in his
lap. "Is it an emergency?"

It feels like one, like he can't last another month without meeting Namjoon. He can barely last five
days. Yoongi considers lying, but he's sure Derek will see right through him. "No," he says finally.
"Then you'll need to reschedule," Derek says with a shrug.

Anger boils low in Yoongi's belly, he clenches his fists at his sides. "I can't reschedule," he grits
out. "It is for a literal solar event."

"That doesn't seem like my problem."

"Please." Yoongi is ashamed of how shaky his voice sounds, how pathetic he must appear. "I'm
going to see my boyfriend, please," he continues. "I haven’t- we've never -" He knows he's saying
too much, embarrassing himself. "We met online and we're supposed to meet for the first time." He
can feel himself trembling, knows how red his cheeks must be. "Please."

The look on Derek's face could best be described as a sneer. "I see," he says, studying Yoongi as if
he's something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "That also doesn't seem like my problem."

Yoongi wants to scream, or maybe throttle the man in front of him. He can feel tears threatening
but he fights them back, tries not to let his voice waver. "Derek, I never take time off," Yoongi tries
again. "I was sick before, but you know I never request time off, I just need this one week and then
you can schedule me fifteen days in a row, I don't care." He's babbling at this point, bargaining
with a man who clearly doesn't care at all. "I'll do anything, come on."

Derek snorts, as if this entire thing is amusing. Rage licks up Yoongi's spine as Derek shakes his
head. "No," he says simply. "You are expected to be here for those shifts unless you switch with
someone." Derek lifts an eyebrow. "I'm not sure anyone will want to switch. So, if you don't work,
it will be considered abandonment and you will be fired."

The threat is clear. Show up or you're finished. The look on Derek's face, so self-satisfied, makes
Yoongi want to punch him. Yoongi needs this job, of course he does, how else will he pay his
bills? But he's miserable here and… and he's going to be prevented from seeing Namjoon.

"Fuck this," Yoongi snaps, ripping his white uniform hat off his head.

"Excuse me?" Derek sits up straight.

Yoongi glowers at him, flinging the ball cap at his chest. "You're such a -" he cuts himself off,
shrugging off his flannel before reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and ripping it over his head.
"Fuck you, Derek," he grits out.

"You can't talk to -"

His words are cut off by Yoongi throwing the shirt at his face. He pulls his flannel back on,
buttoning it over his naked chest. "You're a fucking dick, you can't treat me like this." He steps
back, glaring.

"You better apologize, this will be a formal write up unless you -"

"Stuff it," Yoongi interrupts. "Go fuck yourself, I quit."

Spinning on his heel, Yoongi storms out the door he just came through and heads back into the
city.

The first tears fall as Yoongi is unlocking his door. His shaking hands can barely hold his keys,
hardly fit them into the lock. Yoongi is very aware, as he finally gets the door open and sinks to a
 crouch inside the doorway of his shitty little apartment, that he has fucked up.

The rent on an apartment like this, barely a shoebox, horribly drafty, shitty location and less than
no amenities, is astronomical. And then there's his car payment, utilities, groceries, his pills, phone
plan, and what feels like a million other things he has to pay every month. Yoongi does not have
much in savings, living mostly paycheck to paycheck. Everything he has been saving is going
toward his trip.

A sob rips through him and he buries his face in his hands, feeling weak, ridiculous. He has quit
his job, the only thing that was enabling him to actually have the money for this trip in the first
place. He has quit his job and his bills will just pile up, his rent will still be due.

And now he has no way to pay these bills, no way to support any kind of life. He's an idiot, letting
his temper and desperation take control. He's gotten better, less likely to explode or, as was more
often the case, implode. But now he's done it again, lost his head and damned himself.

But the voice in the back of his head, traitorous, dangerous. At least now nothing will stop you from
seeing him. It's not wrong. And Yoongi makes a conscious effort to pull himself together. No
matter how stupid of a thing he just did, there is that silver lining. He'll be gone a week, he can
figure everything out after that. Find a new job, maybe something better, make things work.

He can't tell Hoseok and Seokjin, at least not until he's back. And he can't tell Namjoon. Namjoon,
who will worry and be upset, will want to problem solve, want to cancel the trip. But at this point,
if Yoongi has lost everything else, he needs to have this one thing. He thinks that maybe, just
maybe, he deserves one good, positive thing.

In a week he will worry and fret and fix. In a week he will tell his best friends and job hunt. In a
week Yoongi will return to reality.

But for now… for now he needs to call Namjoon. He wipes his face with his shirt sleeve, clearing
his throat. Namjoon answers almost immediately, even though it's early in the day. Yoongi is sure
he's at work.

"Yoongs? Aren't you at work?"

"Yeah." He flinches at the lie. "I just have a minute." He curls the fingers of his free hand into a
fist, swallows hard. "I got the time approved, babe. I'm going to see you so soon."

Namjoon's breathless laughter and happy shout are enough to let Yoongi push everything else
down. He can worry about everything in a week. Right now, all that matters is Namjoon.

Chapter End Notes

Twitter

This will be updated weekly so stay tuned!!

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist and follow along on the journey Here!!

Thank you as always to Sumi for the beta on this and all chapters.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The sound of the trunk closing is satisfying, a sound of finality, completion. Yoongi brushes his
hands on his jeans and steps back, staring at the rear of his Subaru. Everything is packed,
everything is ready. It's nine thirty in the morning and everything Yoongi will need is stowed in his
car. This is really happening, it's seven thirty in the morning in Denver and Namjoon is doing the
same thing. Soon they'll both be on the road, heading for each other.

Yoongi comes back to himself at the sound of a car door closing. He turns, finding Seokjin and
Hoseok approaching along the sidewalk. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Yoongi fights not to
fidget as they come up to him, laden with bags.

"Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" Seokjin accuses, studying him with narrowed
eyes.

Shrugging, Yoongi scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the ground. "I figured we already said
goodbye."

"Us coming over last night so Hoseok could fry your poor scalp further is not a goodbye." Hoseok
nudges him and they exchange a look. Seokjin sighs and his expression softens. "We brought
gifts," he says, much more gently.

"Gifts?" Yoongi parrots, raising a brow.

Hoseok grins. "Gifts." He holds out the items in his hands, a cooler and a canvas tote bag. "Food
and drinks," he explains as Yoongi takes them. "Homemade stuff and your favorite snacks."

"You didn't have to -"

"We know," Hoseok interrupts, smiling. "This way you can save some money. Lots of sandwiches
and things in there, water and juice, a couple sodas. Should last you the whole trip down."

Yoongi feels overwhelmed for a moment, shocked in the face of his best friends' thoughtfulness.
Accepting help shouldn't be so hard, shouldn't feel like a kick to his pride. "Thank you," he
mumbles, "this is really -" He breaks off and offers a wobbly smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Seokjin says airily, "I didn't slave away in the kitchen for hours this morning
for nothing." Hoseok snorts and Yoongi's smile strengthens. Seokjin rolls his eyes and nods at the
car. "Put those in your car so we can give you the rest." He holds up a tote bag in his own hand.

Yoongi can't imagine what the rest could be. Moving around to the passenger side of his car, he
opens the front passenger door and sets the cooler and tote bag on the floor. This way he can easily
grab snacks and drinks if he needs them. His eyes burn a little. Even though Seokjin is nervous
about this, scared for Yoongi, he went to all this trouble. Turning, Yoongi finds his friends
standing just behind him.

"Okay so," Hoseok begins, "you're going to argue with us but we won't listen. Just take it."

Confused, Yoongi blinks, glancing between them. "What?"

Reaching into the bag in Seokjin's hand, Hoseok pulls out a small white rectangle and hands it
over. It takes Yoongi a few seconds to understand what it is, turning it over until the logo faces up.
An E-ZPass toll transponder. Something Yoongi's never had, not leaving the city often enough for
it to be necessary. But of course Seokjin and Hoseok travel, they have one in their car.

"I can't -"

"You can," Seokjin interrupts. "We topped up the account, just take it."

Yoongi glances down at the little device, then back up. "I'll pay you back."

"You most certainly will not," Seokjin says dismissively. "You'll need to save when you get back."

Save. As if that will be possible. He had told Seokjin and Hoseok about quitting his job. They
were, surprisingly, more supportive than he expected. Of course they thought it was stupid to quit
his job without notice and without something else lined up. But they knew how miserable he was,
how draining the work was. They both promised to help him find something new when he came
back. And they didn't mention the elephant in the room, the obvious overarching reason why
Yoongi had quit. Yoongi had seen the tightness in Seokjin's jaw, there for a flash, but he hadn't said
anything, only offered to fix up Yoongi's resume while he was gone.

"Yeah, I guess I will." He stuffs the transponder into his pocket. "Thank you, this is really
amazing."

"Okay one more thing," Hoseok chirps, holding up a finger.

"If it's a gas card, I won't accept it, this is too much. You're doing -" he cuts off as Seokjin reaches
into the bag and pulls out a small object. "What the fuck is - Seokjin, really?"

A pocketknife. A baby pink pocketknife. Seokjin flicks it open, showing a white blade decorated
with flowers and kitten faces. "For protection," he says easily, closing the blade again and offering
it.

Yoongi just stares at it. "Why the fuck would I need this?"

"In case you meet an angry trucker, haven't you seen Joyride?" Hoseok shakes his head, as if
Yoongi is being purposefully dim.

"That, and..." Seokjin presses the object into his palm. "In case Namjoon is, you know, like, a
serial killer or something."

"Seokjin!"

"Just in case!"

Sighing, Yoongi stares at the knife, the handle seems even pinker up close, smooth in his palm.
"Why is it pink and cartoony? Is this for children?"

"Yoongi, who would be giving a child a pocketknife?"

Hoseok snorts. "Just keep it in the car, lil meow meow -" Yoongi glares at the nickname but
Hoseok ignores him. "You never know, maybe you'll need to cut a mango."

"While driving?"

Hoseok shrugs and steps forward, holding out his arms for a hug. "Be safe, yeah?" Yoongi moves
in, wrapping his arms around his friend.

"No driving over the speed limit!" Seokjin insists, scooting around them to attach himself to
Yoongi's back and squeeze him tight.

Yoongi allows himself to melt for a moment, sandwiched between his best friends, warm and
content as they squeeze him. Then Hoseok presses a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek and the
moment is broken. Yoongi flinches back, scowling and wiping at his cheek with his sleeve.
Tutting, Seokjin spins him around and dabs at his cheek with the corner of his shirt, fussing over
him like a mother hen. Yoongi allows it for a moment, before pushing Seokjin away as well and
rounding the car.

"I can't stand either of you," Yoongi hisses, glaring at them over the roof.

They grin at him, but Yoongi can tell it's a little forced, both of them with eyes that are slightly
glassy. "We love you," Hoseok calls, as Yoongi slides into the seat. Opening the center console, he
drops the little pink pocketknife inside.

Yoongi rolls down the window, craning his neck to see them. "Love you too, but you're both
horrible." Slamming the car into gear, Yoongi checks the traffic and, with a final glance at his
friends, pulls away from the curb. His phone beeps, a text coming in as he stops at the end of the
street.

Namjoon, telling him he's leaving. Perfect timing, starting the trip together. Yoongi hits the Call
button and waits for the line to connect.

"Ready?" Namjoon asks, his voice slightly tinny through the car speakers.

Yoongi tightens his hands on the steering wheel. "Ready," he replies.

"Okay," Namjoon breathes. "We hang up and then count to five and hit play, okay?"

On the playlist Yoongi made, perfectly tailored for their road trip. Each song chosen with care,
with intent. "Sounds perfect." Yoongi pauses, lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I
can't believe I'm going to see you tomorrow."

"It's unreal," Namjoon agrees, sounding just as awed as Yoongi feels. "I love you, Yoongi. Drive
safely?"

"You too. Love you."

And then they hang up and Yoongi counts to five, tapping play on Spotify. He hits his blinker,
turning left off his street and into the city traffic as All Time Low's If These Sheets Were States
begins to play.
 ⟿

It's weird, as the Boston disappears behind him, to realize that he's heading toward something real
and important. This isn't a simple trip to Wegmans just outside the city or Seokjin and Hoseok
dragging him to Hampton beach on a sunny Saturday. This is the real deal. This is Yoongi setting
out, city traffic permitting, on something big. An adventure, maybe.

Getting to know Namjoon in general has been an adventure, so many new things that Yoongi has
experienced. He's dated before, been in relationships or short flings. One serious one that still
makes his stomach lurch. None of that is new to Yoongi, of course. But dating like this, being in a
relationship that is long distance is something entirely new. This isn't Yoongi and the guy who
lived in Jamaica Plain, just a forty-minute ride on the orange line away.

Two thousand miles is very new and very different, making every first that much more special, that
much more unique. So while Yoongi's been in relationships, he's never been in one like this before.
And firsts are important, they've meant a lot to both of them. Yoongi feels like he can remember
them all, every new experience with Namjoon, all starting with the first time he saw him.

Yoongi's side hobby doing guitar covers on YouTube started when he was bored one weekend. It
had started to feel a little sad, sitting in his apartment playing guitar just for himself, no one else
around to listen to the music he drew from his instruments. Hoseok had made the suggestion, off-
hand, probably joking. But Yoongi had run with it, making a channel and posting his first video -
Motion City Soundtrack's L.G. FUAD - before he could second guess himself. And it got some
hits, a few views, some encouraging comments.

And it grew from there. Suddenly Yoongi had more views, more comments. Each video brought
more, brought likes and subscribers and regular viewers. Then came a Twitter platform and a
semi-regular upload schedule. It's just a hobby, really, something a mid-twenties burnout who once
thought he would be a famous guitarist can do in his spare time. Yoongi doesn't make much from
it, occasionally he gets donations, but it's not something he could make a living on. But the support
is nice, Yoongi, normally shy and reserved, finds the attention kind of satisfying. A break from his
loneliness. Only visible from the neck down, his hands moving over his guitar, the anonymity of it,
paired with the praise, is a good escape.

That's how it started, and how he and Namjoon met.

Yoongi was over at Seokjin and Hoseok's apartment, lounging on their couch with Seokjin as they
waited for Hoseok to return from Pilates. Yoongi remembered, after a beer or two, that he had
finally uploaded the video Seokjin had requested of one of his favorite songs, Hotel Yorba. With a
little wheedling, Seokjin was navigating to the YouTube app on the television and typing in Hotel
Yorba Cover.

But Yoongi didn't come up first. He was second. The first was someone else, someone with a drum
cover of the song, uploaded a day after Yoongi uploaded his own.

"That's weird," Yoongi had mumbled, "kind of small-worldy that this person uploaded the same
song."

"Let's watch it," Seokjin chirped, clicking the video.

And shit. The guy was good, clearly talented as he drummed along to the song. That was great,
very cool to see. But he was also hot. The tendons on his arms popping as he moved, arms flexing
with each hit to the drums, each cymbal crash. Yoongi was rapt, eyes wide and unblinking as he
watched a bead of sweat drip down a strong jaw.
When Yoongi arrived home that night, he spent an embarrassing amount of time going through all
of the man's videos. He found that his name was Namjoon, he lived in Colorado, and he had
musical tastes eerily similar to Yoongi's own. Namjoon's Twitter was in his profile and Yoongi
was surprised to find, when he went to his account, that Namjoon already followed him. Courage
coming from some unknown recess, Yoongi had followed back and sent a DM, complimenting
Namjoon's videos.

The reply was almost instantaneous - I love your videos, I've watched almost all of them. And
Yoongi had grinned, feeling strangely bubbly and light, as he had fallen into conversation with
Namjoon.

As the closing chords of Carry This Picture fade out, Yoongi turns off his car and leans back in his
seat. He's somewhere in New York, stopped at a rest area off the highway. Climbing out of his car,
he stretches, hissing at the sting in his shoulders and neck. It'll only get worse as his trip continues,
but that's okay, it's more than worth it.

After using the bathroom, Yoongi climbs back into his car, cranking the air conditioning and
opening up the cooler his friends packed him. Pulling out a sandwich, he digs in as he sends a
quick text to their group chat, letting them know he's stopped for a sandwich and a stretch. He
receives more entreaties to be careful from Seokjin and heart emojis from Hoseok.

He doesn't need to call Namjoon. But he has a few minutes and it would be nice to just say hi,
check in and see how his drive is going.

"Hey, babe."

Yoongi smiles as Namjoon's voice comes through his speakers. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Good," Namjoon says easily. “The playlist definitely helps, it’s fantastic.” Yoongi smiles at that,
feeling pleased with himself. "I just stopped for gas and I'm pulling back onto the highway. How
about you?"

"Alright." Yoongi takes another bite of his sandwich. "Just stopped to have a snack, traffic leaving
the city was hell."

"Same, but I'm making good time. How long until your next stop?"

Yoongi hums, checking his GPS. "A couple hours, I'll get gas there, probably, or on the way if I
need it."

"What's the stop?"

Yoongi hesitates before answering. "The Frackville Pioneer Woman statue," he mumbles.

"Of course it is," Namjoon says with a chuckle. "You'll send me a picture of her?"

Yoongi shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and puts the car in reverse to back out of his
spot. "Of course, I'll try to take a selfie for you."

"Amazing, I can't wait to see you with your pioneer bride."

Yoongi grins as he pulls onto the highway, following his GPS back to the route. "I can tell you're
jealous," he teases, "I bet her dowry is better than yours."
"Is this a roleplay thing we're doing?" Namjoon questions. "Do I need to get a bonnet?"

"You're terrible," Yoongi laughs, "this is terrible."

"You started it," Namjoon accuses. "Focus on the road, yeah? Text me at the statue."

They hang up and Yoongi settles back in, turning up the radio as the opening guitar of I Want to
Know Your Plans replaces Namjoon's voice.

Their relationship started easily, their first conversation quickly turned into more, until they started
messaging every day. It was unusual for Yoongi, he's never been the best at making friends. New
friendships are difficult, small talk and awkward moments make him antsy and nervous. But there
wasn't much of that with Namjoon, and even when there was, they weren't uncomfortable. Yoongi
found himself looking forward to talking to him and suddenly, somehow, they were hitting the
Twitter direct message limit every other day.

So it was natural, obvious, for Yoongi to ask Namjoon for his number. He worked himself up to it,
giving himself a quick pep talk before typing out the suggestion and sending it. And the message
he got back, smile emojis and a phone number, made his heart beat double time. Yoongi was
cautious, though he didn’t used to be. But that was years ago, before hurt and heartbreak hardened
him. A wariness, a nervousness to get close to anyone new. But something about Namjoon made
him unafraid, made him want more.

The move from twitter to texting was just as easy, and Yoongi's phone seemed like it was
constantly buzzing with new messages. Namjoon would send pictures, random things from around
Denver, record sleeves and drumheads, fluffy cats and steaming mugs of coffee. They shared their
favorite songs, posting covers of each other's choices. Yoongi even sent Namjoon a couple of his
own original songs, too much fanfare and praise.

It was a month before Namjoon asked for a picture of him. I want to make sure you're not some
weird fifty-year-old man or something. Yoongi already knew what Namjoon looked like, at least
while he was drumming. Namjoon didn't hide his face, content to be on camera. But Yoongi...

Yoongi feared the exposure of showing his face. Somehow, it didn't feel as personal when he could
crop himself out a little. He said it was for internet safety, which was partly true. But Yoongi was
also nervous of what people would say. His pale skin, dark circles under his eyes and messy
bleached hair. He didn't need to know what a bunch of internet strangers thought of his face.

But Namjoon didn't feel like an internet stranger, not anymore. Namjoon had become a friend,
despite the distance. So Yoongi agreed, with the caveat embarrassingly added, that he was shy.
Namjoon was nothing but encouraging. I'll send one first.

And Yoongi knew what to expect, mostly. He’s seen videos of Namjoon sweaty and in short
sleeves, pounding on a drum set. But this Namjoon, in a faded t-shirt and denim jacket, hair styled
off his forehead and glasses on, was something different. This Namjoon, looking cozy and soft and
smiling for the camera, dimples popping, was something new. A different Namjoon, another side
of the same coin. God, he was so hot and Yoongi felt like a drowned sewer rat in the face of that
bright smile.

But he still sent a picture, one Hoseok had taken a couple of days ago. They had been at the
esplanade and Yoongi was lounging on the blanket with his guitar in his lap, strumming absently.
And then Hoseok was telling him to look up and Yoongi, puzzled, did as asked, just for Hoseok to
take a picture. It had actually come out well, Yoongi backlit by warm sunlight that made his hair
look almost white. And he looked happy, content.

Namjoon didn't respond for a few minutes and Yoongi was filled with terror, convinced he had
royally fucked up. Maybe Namjoon thought he was disgusting, thought he was ugly. Yoongi knew
Namjoon was gay, they had talked about it one night over text, because they had started talking
about everything. But maybe Yoongi wasn't his type, wasn't even close.

Would it be weird if I say you're hot?

Yoongi snorted when the message came through, teeth sinking into his bottom lip before
responding.

Would it be weirder if I said it back ?

And it progressed from there, and Yoongi found himself the recipient of selfies quite often. And he
reciprocated, sending a few shots of himself around the city or in his apartment. It didn't feel weird,
didn't feel scary, when he was sending them to Namjoon.

Moving from texting to actual phone calls, that was a little harder. Namjoon broached the subject,
asking if he could call and play Yoongi a song. Neither of them spoke on their channels, just
posting their covers without introduction. Namjoon had never heard his voice, he had never heard
Namjoon's. So when the line connected, and Yoongi heard the low voice on the other end,
thoughtful and kind, he nearly melted into his chair.

The pioneer woman statue is, unsurprisingly, even more disturbing outside of pictures. Yoongi sits
in his car, parked a few feet from the base, staring up through his windshield. Damien Jurado is
crooning softly through his speakers, Museum of Flight doesn't seem entirely fitting right now in
the face of the statue.

Sliding out of his seat, Yoongi makes his way over to the statue, peering up into the faces of the
woman and her child. The child, disturbingly, has the face of an adult man and the doll it's carrying
doesn't have a head.

"Ominous," Yoongi mumbles to himself as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a few
pictures of the statue before posing, taking a few selfies with the statue in the background. Tapping
at his screen, he sends them to Namjoon and his group chat with Hoseok and Seokjin. His phone
begins to ring immediately, Hoseok.

"Have you been kidnapped? Is this a cry for help?"

Yoongi snorts, moving back to his car to lean against the hood. "What are you talking about?"

"I can think of no other reason you would send me a literal nightmare."

"You don't think she's pretty, Hobi? I thought the kid kind of looked like Seokjin with a hangover,"
Yoongi muses.

There's a shuffling on the other end and then Seokjin's voice, unamused. "I will filet you with my
pink kitten pocketknife."

"You gave it to me, remember?"

"I bought one for myself as well, obviously, Yoongi. It was only five dollars if I bought two,"
Seokjin says primly. "I will julienne you."

Another shuffling and Hoseok returns, chuckling. "Drive's going well?"

"Yeah, not bad, kind of boring but it's alright. I've got a little less than four hours until I get to the
hotel." He runs a hand through his hair. He's tired but it's not too bad, he can last four more hours.
The music helps, thinking about Namjoon with each song that plays over his speakers. But there's
only so much highway, so many stretches of trees he can look at. It's worth it though, knowing he'll
be there soon.

Hoseok hums. "Be careful? I'm worried you're haunted by this thing now."

"I'll be fine," Yoongi laughs. "I'll text you guys when I get to the hotel."

Ending the call, Yoongi checks his phone to see a message from Namjoon.

[Namjoon]

Your daughter is beautiful

Yoongi hits the Call button and waits for Namjoon to pick up.

"Your family is so beautiful, babe," Namjoon says with a laugh. "Your daughter looks just like
you."

Yoongi grins, leaning on an elbow on his hood and tipping his head back to stare at the statue. "She
has my nose, I think."

"And a very cute nose it is. I've decided to turn around and go home," Namjoon continues, "there's
no way I can compete with that lovely lady. I don't even have an apron."

"We can get you one," Yoongi teases.

Namjoon fakes an affronted gasp. "Yoongi Min, are you trying to get me into a skirt?"

Well, that thought has potential. Namjoon's long legs look great in shorts, as Yoongi has seen from
photos he definitely didn't zoom in on. A skirt, well... "Maybe."

"Hm, I'll keep that in mind." There's a pause and then Namjoon speaks again, voice a little lower,
hungry. "You'd look better in one," he purrs, "with those pretty legs."

A blush creeps up Yoongi's cheeks and he bites his lips. His legs have always been skinny and
pale, something he tends to hide beneath jeans and track pants. But ever since seeing Namjoon
holding his drumsticks, Yoongi can't help but imagine how his big hands would grip his legs.

"Yeah, I -" he swallows and shakes his head, understanding where this is going. "Are you trying to
have phone sex with me while you're driving?"

"No," Namjoon says immediately. Yoongi waits and Namjoon chuckles again. "Maybe. I could
pull over?"

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi pushes off his car and climbs back into the driver's seat. "That's
dangerous, Namjoon. I can't believe you'd suggest something like this. Did you know that fifty
four percent of all deaths in auto crashes are caused by road head?"
"Yoongi, I'm pretty sure that's head on collisions."

With a grin, Yoongi turns his air conditioning up higher and puts the car in gear. "I've heard it both
ways."

Yoongi’s fingers tap his steering wheel, keeping time to the beat of Midnight City. Namjoon had
laughed when he saw the song on the playlist, saying he hadn’t heard it in forever.

“I swear I didn’t even know the name of this song, let alone who it was by,” he confessed.

Yoongi had grinned, leaning back on his bed the night before the trip. “You’re lucky I have
expansive musical knowledge in my brain. What else am I using it for?” Namjoon had scoffed a
little at Yoongi’s self-deprecating comment, but he hadn’t pressed him.

Shifting in his seat, Yoongi turns the music up louder and lets himself relax a little. It hasn't
entirely set in yet, the fact that he'll meet Namjoon in a day. They've been talking for over a year,
been boyfriends for eight months now. Talking to Namjoon for hours at a time, closing his eyes to
pretend Namjoon was right there with him. The fact that he won't need to pretend still seems so
foreign. It makes butterflies swarm in Yoongi's belly, makes his palms a little sweaty. He's sure it
will hit him soon, this reality of what he's driving towards. Namjoon and the promise of more. The
nervous tremor beneath his skin, fears that maybe Namjoon might not be who he thinks, is just like
others before him. But that couldn’t be. Namjoon is different, Namjoon is everything.

He’s been on the road for about forty-five minutes, another hour and he’ll be at his next stop. He
should have enough gas to make it there. He could call Namjoon and talk to him, but they just
spoke a little while ago. Yoongi doesn’t want to distract him further, even if the sound of his voice
would be nice. It’s always nice, always soothing, something Yoongi noticed immediately the first
time they talked.

“Your voice isn’t what I expected.”

“Oh?” Yoongi prompted. Namjoon’s was just how Yoongi expected, deep and resonating. Yoongi
imagined he could feel it in his chest, warm and low. It suited him, and Yoongi wanted to hear
more of it.

“I didn’t expect it to be so deep,” Namjoon explained. “You seem so small and cute in your
pictures and I -” Namjoon cut off abruptly.

Yoongi chose to ignore the small comment for the moment, focusing on the other. His heart was
loud in his ears. Cute. Namjoon had just called him cute. “Did you just call me cute?”

“Um,” Namjoon began. “I - yes?”

Warmth bloomed in Yoongi’s chest, something about the compliment, about the way Namjoon
said it, made him feel suddenly… he didn’t know. But it was a lot, and it wasn’t a bad feeling. This
guy he had been talking to for a couple months, this hot drummer from halfway across the country,
just called him cute.

“I didn’t know you thought I was cute.” Yoongi’s voice was soft, shy.

Namjoon cleared his throat, suddenly a little awkward. “I, um, save some of your selfies. Is that
weird? God, that’s weird. It’s fucking creepy, I’m so sorry what the hell is wrong with me?”
Yoongi couldn’t help his surprised laugh, couldn’t help the swoop in his stomach at Namjoon’s
embarrassed rambling. “It’s okay,” Yoongi reassured, “it’s cute.”

“Oh.” A pause. “You think I’m cute?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi drew out the word, smiling to himself as he pulled his knees up in his desk chair.
“What was the other thing you said about me? Small?”

“Ah, well. You look kind of little…” Namjoon said guiltily. “In the pictures with your friends and
stuff. You have huge hands, I could tell in your videos, but you seem so small.”

“I’m not,” Yoongi said stiffly. “Just because you’re a giant, it doesn’t mean I’m small. I’m
average height.”

“Sounds like something a short person would say.”

They had talked for almost three hours that night, Namjoon completely forgetting to even play
Yoongi the song that was the reason for his call. But it hadn’t mattered, not when they seemed to
have so much to say.

Before Yoongi knew it, another month had passed and they had a new routine. They would talk
every day, often at night before bed. Either via facetime or on the phone, sometimes more than
once a day. They never seemed to run out of conversation topics, though they were quiet
sometimes too. It was strangely comforting to work on a video while Namjoon read a book,
camera on so he could glance over and see him, volume up to hear Namjoon's breathing, his quiet
comments.

Maybe it was weird, but Yoongi didn't care. It helped fill the hours. He felt so much less alone in
his tiny apartment when he had Namjoon through his phone.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Yoongi mumbles to himself as he parks his car.

The Giant Paint Can is exactly as advertised, a very large paint can. Absently, Yoongi wonders
how many gallons of paint would actually fit in it. Climbing out of his car, he snaps a couple
pictures and a selfie and sends them along. He doesn’t get any immediate responses, so he climbs
back into the car and opens the cooler, pulling out another sandwich.

Everything is quiet around him, the stretch of road he’s on seems mostly deserted and there are no
other cars around. The business next to the attraction appears to be closed and here alone, in rural
Pennsylvania, things seem very quiet. The distance between him and Namjoon, though it’s
gradually closing, suddenly seems somehow more vast and expansive. Yoongi’s been in the same
place so long, rarely having left Boston, it’s strange to remember how big things really are.

The distance between them has been almost an abstract thing. Two thousand miles sure sounds like
a big number, plugged into a search engine it gives him a thirty-hour drive time. So it’s long, it’s
far. But it’s easy to forget how far, to forget how much actual distance separates them. Not until
now, driving a thousand miles to meet Namjoon, that Yoongi is really beginning to appreciate just
how far it is.

It’s crushing, a little overwhelming, to think about the fact that the distance will increase again.
They’ll close it now, but in a week, Namjoon will be two thousand miles away, back at home. And
Yoongi will be back in Boston, alone and jobless, in an apartment he can no longer afford with only
memories of Namjoon. At least those memories will be sweeter than the others he usually relives.
His sandwich tastes like sand in his mouth and he fights to swallow it.

Yoongi jumps, startled from his dark thoughts when his phone buzzes, a text from Namjoon.

[Namjoon]

How many gallons of paint do you think it holds?

Smiling softly, Yoongi types back a quick reply, asking if Namjoon has stopped. His phone buzzes
a moment later with a facetime call. When Yoongi answers, Namjoon’s face fills the screen.

“I just stopped for food,” Namjoon explains. His hair is pushed off his forehead by a bandana and
he looks cute. “How’s the paint can?”

“It’s pretty cool, a little underwhelming,” Yoongi offers, feeling his sour mood fading. “The
website I found it on said that there was a flood ten years ago that carried it to the middle of the
highway.”

“That’s insane,” Namjoon says, eyes wide. “I guess it’s not full of paint then.”

Yoongi laughs, reaching into the cooler for a soda. “I guess not, maybe water though. It’s
interesting around here. On the way to the paint can, I passed a giant sign that was just an elevated
tractor trailer.”

“Pennsylvania is wild, I feel like you’ve barely scratched the surface there.”

“For sure,” Yoongi agrees. “There’s apparently a miniature town somewhere near here. Maybe I’ll
check it out on the way back.”

Namjoon hums and his smile slips a little. “I wish I could see it with you, that sounds really cool.”
Right. Because when Yoongi makes the drive back, he’ll be alone. “You’d fit in so well, being so
small and everything.”

“Jerk!” Yoongi snaps, scowling at his phone. “I’ll be able to punch you for that soon.”

Namjoon’s smile returns, a wide grin stretching his lips. “If you can reach me.”

Some of the sadness abates, as they spend a little time eating together before saying goodbye.
Yoongi tries to push it down, the negative thoughts of after and of distance, and focus on the goal.
The goal of seeing Namjoon, of being able to touch him and talk to him for real. He’s determined
to make these few days they have together count. He won’t let thoughts of separating and his own
personal problems affect what should be a happy occasion, not when he’s so close.

Yoongi’s two hours from his motel, finally close to his destination for the night. Nine hours of
driving is much more tiring than he expected it to be. There’s something mind numbingly boring
about endless stretches of highway. Passing into Virginia, Yoongi feels like he can at least almost
see the end of the first day. He imagines he can see the lights of his motel in the distance. A hot
shower and a reasonably comfortable bed sound fantastic right now.

He shifts in his seat, rolling his neck side to side as the song changes. Jimmy Eat World starts
through the speakers and Yoongi smiles. For Me This Is Heaven was on one of the first playlists
Namjoon made for him. Yoongi remembers listening to it, curled up in bed in a hoodie Namjoon
sent him, teeth sunk into his bottom lip as the melody filled his ears.
Can you still feel the butterflies?

Yoongi can, every time he hears Namjoon's voice, sees his smile. And they're only multiplying,
wings beating furiously inside him as he draws closer. He's been seeing Namjoon's face through
his cellphone and his computer screen for months now, he knows the curve of his lips, the angle of
his jaw. He can map every freckle and mole, as if he's made a study of Namjoon's face. He thinks
he tried to memorize Namjoon's features the first time they facetimed, just in case it was the last.

Yoongi had been a little frantic, antsy and restless as he stood in front of his closet. He had his
thumb nail in his mouth, gnawing at the torn cuticle. Maybe it was a little ridiculous, how nervous
he felt. It wasn’t like Namjoon hadn’t seen what he looks like, this would just be - well, in real
time, not a still image he can retake and filter. It was Yoongi’s fault, really. He shouldn’t have said
anything. It had just been an off day, he wasn’t feeling like himself.

Namjoon had become someone to confide in, someone to whisper his worries and problems too. It
was easy to vent to Namjoon, to let his worries out and put them into the world, let Namjoon carry
them a little. And Namjoon wanted to help, always full of solutions and ideas. It was appreciated,
though sometimes Yoongi just wanted to unload and be told yeah, that sucks.

Yoongi was on his lunch break at work and had told him that he was feeling a little down, that he
was worried the new bleach he used had made his hair look weird, that he just felt off that day. He
felt like that sometimes after dying his hair. After over a year of being told he looked better a
certain way by someone heartless, sometimes he still felt a little nervous when he dyed his hair,
tried new things, stepped outside the box.

“I just feel ridiculous,” Yoongi murmured into the phone, leaning against the wall outside the
building. The only place he could get a tiny bit of privacy, this little back alley by the dumpsters.

Namjoon hummed thoughtfully. “I’m sure that’s not true, you always look great.”

“It is,” Yoongi insisted, running a hand through his hair. He chose not to comment on the second
part of Namjoon’s sentence, feeling a flutter of butterflies in his belly at the words. “It’s so fried, I
probably shouldn’t have bleached it again.”

“You could dye it black, let it be natural,” Namjoon suggested. “Though, I’m not the best to give
advice, you know I love dying my hair.”

Yoongi swallowed, maybe Namjoon was just saying he looked great to be nice. Maybe Namjoon
thought he’d look better with darker hair. Maybe he thought the blonde looked bad. He wouldn’t
be the first, but Yoongi didn’t want to go through that again.

“But,” Namjoon continued, interrupting Yoongi’s nervous thoughts. “I think you look great
blonde. I think, um,” he paused, cleared his throat. “I think you’re cute so… yeah.”

A smile curled Yoongi’s lips and he ducked his chin to his chest, phone pressed hard against his
ear. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon echoed. “Really cute. We could maybe, um… are you free later tonight?”

“I am.” Maybe Namjoon wanted to call him again, or wanted a selfie. “What? Do you want a selfie
with my new hair?”

“No, no. Well, wait, yes, yes I do. But, uh -” Namjoon cleared his throat again, sounding suddenly
a little awkward. “I thought maybe…”
Yoongi snorted. “Namjoon, spit it out before you tie your tongue in knots.”

“Alright, alright,” Namjoon laughed nervously. “Maybe we could facetime tonight? If you
wanted? Then I could see your hair and we could talk and… yeah. Only if you want to though.”

Oh. Facetime with Namjoon. That is - that’s a lot. But fuck, that sounded so good. Terrifying, but
good. Not wanting to seem weird, Yoongi had agreed. And then promptly panicked.

The rest of Yoongi’s shift passed with shaky hands and a whirlwind of nervous thoughts. By the
time he arrived home, Yoongi was a trembling mess. Throwing himself into the shower, Yoongi
blasted the water over himself, willing himself to relax as he washed his hair and tried to calm
himself.

He and Namjoon had been talking for almost five months now. Enough time for Yoongi to feel
comfortable, to stop feeling so nervous every time they talked. But this was something new,
something bigger. Yoongi couldn't help feeling like it meant more.

More because… maybe his feelings for Namjoon had been a little weird lately. Talking to
Namjoon was the highlight of every day. Yoongi found himself smiling more when he'd get a text,
feeling light and happy when they talked on the phone. And Yoongi had been trying to puzzle out
these feelings for a few days now, maybe weeks. The warmth he felt with Namjoon, how he could
talk to him about anything. Other than his best friends, he didn't feel that comfortable with anyone,
especially not someone he met online.

So maybe that was the problem, that Namjoon was an intangible object. Namjoon existed in
pictures and sound bites. The opportunity to see him over a live video would make things real,
more tangible. And Yoongi wasn't sure how that would make him feel.

With a deep breath, Yoongi pulled a sweater from his closet and tugged it on. It was a good one, a
gift from Seokjin in a deep blue. Yoongi hoped it was enough. Checking the time on the phone,
Yoongi cursed softly under his breath and headed for the bathroom. His hair, feeling a little fried
from the bleach, thankfully obeyed his brush for the most part. Once dry, it fell softly over his
forehead, looking a little less messy than it had earlier. Maybe he could put a little eyeliner or -

Yoongi's phone vibrated on the counter and he jumped staring down at the screen. A facetime
request. Namjoon's contact picture staring up at him. Grabbing his phone, Yoongi hurried back to
his bedroom and sank into his desk chair before accepting the call. And then - Namjoon.

Namjoon in live technicolor, seen from the shoulders up. In a dark green sweater with a gray
beanie tugged over his own blonde hair - Namjoon. And he was smiling, shy and tentative, his
dimples barely visible as his eyes roamed over the screen.

"Yoongi?" he sounded nervous, a little unsure.

Namjoon’s lips formed his name, the sound coming through the speakers. Namjoon speaking his
name, Yoongi watching it happen. It felt - it felt a little unreal.

“Hey,” he breathed, giving a nervous smile.

Namjoon’s smile grew, some of the shyness vanishing, as if he wasn’t sure Yoongi would really be
there when the call had connected. “You look really - uh - I like your hair, it looks really good.”

“It’s so dry,” Yoongi groans, “basically just straw.”

“Well,” Namjoon said diplomatically, “if you encounter a horse it won’t go hungry.”
Yoongi squawked in outrage, glaring at the screen. It was amazing, to see Namjoon’s face shift in
real time, to see his smile widen and his eyes squeeze closed as he laughed. Yoongi’s heart did
something weird in his chest and his palms suddenly felt a little sweaty. “You’re not funny,” he
managed, trying to get his heart rate under control.

And just like that, all of Yoongi’s nerves had faded away. Suddenly he was too distracted by
Namjoon’s laughter, his warm brown eyes, to panic anymore. Namjoon made him feel at ease and
Yoongi found himself melting back against his desk chair, entire body unclenching as Namjoon
drew him into conversation.

It was after that first facetime, and the many more that followed, that Yoongi really started to think
about his feelings. It felt a little preposterous, that he could have feelings of any kind for someone
he met on the internet, someone he’d never met. Of course he knew online dating was a thing,
people did it all the time. But that was usually with hot singles in your area, not a cute drummer
2,000 miles away.

And yet… Yoongi’s feelings were veering away from friendship. Namjoon was kind and sweet, he
made Yoongi feel seen and heard. Their conversations could go on for hours and Yoongi would
end them smiling, feeling light and warm and full of feelings that he didn’t entirely know how to
process. It was obvious, after two beers, for Hoseok to tell him what it was.

“You have a crush, Yoon,” he said easily, gesturing with his pint glass.

“I don’t.” Yoongi’s tone was defensive, guard immediately up. “That’s ridiculous, I don’t even
know him."

Hoseok just smiled, leaning his chin on his palm. "You talk to him all the time, and you talk about
him all the time. You know him and you're so gone for him."

Yoongi didn't respond right away, averting his eyes to stare at his lap. "I've never even met him,"
he mumbled finally.

"Who cares? You're happy when you talk to him, aren't you?" Yoongi nodded. "Butterflies?"
Another nod. "So what do you have to lose?"

Yoongi didn't know. This friendship, maybe? This new blossoming thing that felt so perfect and
wonderful, that made him want to be better, to try. And he felt stupid, having a crush on a man he's
never met, pining over a guy half the country away. Maybe it said something about him, that he
couldn't find someone in his own city to date, that he couldn't find someone here and now. And
what if they did meet in the future? There was no telling if Namjoon would actually like him.
Which was also Yoongi getting ahead of himself already because he had no idea if Namjoon even
liked him.

"I don't want to fuck things up," Yoongi murmured.

"Hm." Hoseok studied him, looking a little sad. "What if he likes you too?"

"He doesn't," Yoongi answered immediately. Because how could he? Especially when Yoongi
shared his problems, vented and whined about his shitty life. How could someone like Namjoon,
with a real job and good health insurance, like him?

Hoseok sighed, shaking his head. "You always do this. The guy calls you cute, he likes you. This
isn’t like last time, Yoongi. Give yourself a chance here."

And once the seeds were there, they grew. Like a tangle of vines in his chest, catching him off
guard as they grew. Cutting off his breathing, making his heart pound in his chest. Tiny thorns and
crushing petals as he tried to push things down, tried not to focus on how his feelings weren't
platonic. Not at all. And Yoongi wouldn't bring it up, content to force it down until he choked. But
he didn't have to.

"Yoongi, can we talk?"

Namjoon's tone was serious, a little nervous. Shifting on his bed, Yoongi offered a hesitant smile.
"Aren't we doing that now?"

Namjoon's own smile looked like a grimace. "Yeah, it's just - I mean - something serious?"

Swallowing, Yoongi nodded. "Of course. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I - man, I feel so nervous." He laughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. Yoongi studied him
through his phone screen, Namjoon looked agitated, a little twitchy. “I’m being stupid, I don’t
know why I -” Taking a deep breath, Namjoon tried again. “I really like talking to you,” he stated,
staring through the screen. “It’s the highlight of my day.”

Oh, well that was nice. “Me too,” Yoongi said softly.

“Really? That’s - yeah, that’s great. I -” Namjoon snapped his mouth closed, looking a little
pained.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi began gently, “what’s going on?”

A small bubble of fear was forming in Yoongi’s stomach, slowly expanding with every breath. Did
Namjoon not want to talk anymore? Maybe Namjoon had figured out Yoongi's feelings, maybe he
wasn't hiding them well enough. His fingertips tingled and Yoongi swallowed hard, watched
Namjoon seem to struggle to find his words. Namjoon always had the right words, seeing him like
this was alarming.

"We've been talking for six months now, right?" Namjoon began again.

"Around there," Yoongi confirmed. His voice sounded a little hollow and he swallowed again.

"I really like talking to you, love it really, but I -" he cut off again, turning his head away to frown.
Yoongi watched his jaw clench.

"Do you…" Yoongi began softly. "Do you not want to talk to me anymore? It’s okay if you don’t, I
understand -”

Namjoon's neck snapped back around, focusing again on Yoongi. "No!" he nearly shouted. His
eyes were wide and he looked a little frantic now. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Joon, please. What is going on?" The tremor in his fingers was becoming hard to control.

"Okay, shit, I'm sorry. I'm being super weird aren't I?" Yoongi didn't answer and Namjoon nodded
once and continued. "I know we haven't met and we don't really know each other. But I feel like I
know you, and you know me. And I like you, so much, everything about you. And I just - fuck -
okay, it's not just like. Or it is but…" he trailed off, looking frustrated.

"Joon," Yoongi murmured, almost a whisper. "Are you saying you -"

"I like you," Namjoon interrupted. "And not as a friend. Well, as a friend, of course but then more.
Like, romantically, I guess? And I know that's crazy, I'm very aware. I'm sure you never want to
talk to me again but I felt like I would explode if I didn't say something."

There was a loud buzzing in Yoongi's ears as he stared at his phone screen, trying to make sense of
Namjoon's words. Had Namjoon just confessed to him? Did Namjoon like him? "You like me?" he
croaked.

Nodding, Namjoon offered a lopsided smile. "Yeah. God I had the stupidest thing planned." He
shook his head. "I was going to play you a song or something. I don't even know what one. Jimin
told me I was being weird, that I just needed to tell you."

"You told Jimin?" One of Namjoon's best friends in Denver, Yoongi had only met him over video.
He was pink-haired and bubbly and very pretty. Yoongi was immediately intimidated.

Namjoon looked a little sheepish. "He told me I've looked lovesick for months. Said I should stop
pining like an idiot, grow some balls. Taehyung suggested I send you flowers, Jungkook told me to
stop being a baby about it." He studied Yoongi's face, chewing his bottom lip. "They said they
were sure you felt the same way and… well, they said they'd shave my head if I didn't tell you."

"Quite the threat, you'd look funny bald." Yoongi feels like he's still trying to process everything
but there's a warmth surging through him now. Namjoon liked him as more than a friend. Namjoon
liked him.

"Yeah, yeah. So… do you?" Yoongi just blinked at him, brain still rebooting. Namjoon groaned.
"Yoongi, do you like me? Please tell me I'm not totally nuts."

"You're nuts," Yoongi responded, "but not totally." He couldn't help his smile, eyes creasing as he
grinned at his phone. "I like you too, a lot, as more than a friend. I thought you had realized it and
were going to say you didn't want to talk anymore."

"Never, I only want you." Namjoon's grin matched his own. "Holy shit, you like me. And, fuck, I
know it's weird. We're 2,000 miles apart and everything but, shit, I really want you to be my
boyfriend."

Boyfriend . Namjoon Kim wanted to be Yoongi’s boyfriend. Despite the distance, despite never
really meeting.

"I don't care about the distance," Namjoon continued, "or any of that stuff. We can figure it out,
right?"

"Yeah," Yoongi breathed. "Yeah, I know we can."

"So…" Namjoon prompted.

Yoongi barely held in a squeal, wanting to roll around on his bed and yell. "Yes, I want to be your
boyfriend, Namjoon."

"Fuck, I can't believe you -" He broke off, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he looked up again,
eyes sparkling. "Cool."

Yoongi snorted, curling up on his side and staring at Namjoon's face, his boyfriend's face. "Cool,"
he echoed.

⟿
The motel is, as Yoongi expected, not great. He wasn't expecting anything fancy for seventy
dollars a night, and he definitely wasn't getting it. But the tiny room seems clean enough. There are
sheets on the bed and towels in the bathroom, even a small fridge to refresh the ice packs from his
cooler. It's enough.

Living in the city and relatively close to where he worked, Yoongi didn't use his car very often. He
had often thought of just selling it, but now he's glad he didn't. Without his old green Subaru he
wouldn't have been able to do this, to drive to meet Namjoon. But, he's really not used to driving,
especially not this far. His entire body feels stiff and achy and he feels tired, weary, even though it
feels like he hasn't done anything all day.

Ten hours of travel and all Yoongi wants is a shower and sleep. And Namjoon.

While the water pressure isn't amazing, the water in the shower is hot and doesn't smell odd.
Yoongi stands beneath the spray, head tipped back as the water soothes his sore muscles. He lets
the water wash the weariness and worries away. At this time tomorrow he'll be with Namjoon.

It's starting to feel real now. The nervous flutter in his belly has grown and the fact that he will see
his boyfriend in twenty-four hours is setting in. After a year of knowing Namjoon, eight months of
dating him, Yoongi is going to see him in person. Touch him, hold him, hopefully kiss him. And
maybe more. They've had sex over video enough times that Yoongi knows all of Namjoon's curves
and angles, knows how he looks when he comes. But in person, Namjoon's lips and hands on his
body, pressing into him...

"Fuck," Yoongi groans, bracing a forearm on the wall as he tries to rein in his thoughts. He's way
too tired to jerk off right now, especially when Namjoon will be calling soon. But the thought of
Namjoon's body beneath his fingers has his cock stirring in interest.

"Get a hold of yourself," Yoongi chastises himself, "you're not a horny teenager."

He's not even sure if they're going to have sex, not sure if Namjoon will be comfortable. Will
Yoongi even feel comfortable? They said they'd play it all by ear, talk it out. But right now, all
Yoongi wants is to kiss Namjoon and touch his tan skin. It’s like an itching in his fingers, a craving
for the man he’s come to love without ever meeting.

Thirty minutes later, Yoongi has eaten another sandwich and some chips, as well as an apple, and
is laying on the slightly lumpy bed. He had texted Seokjin and Hoseok, assuring them he was safe
and that the motel room door was locked. And now he was waiting, staring up at a water stain on
the ceiling, for his phone to ring.

In twenty-four hours he won’t need to hear Namjoon over phone speakers, won’t need to close his
eyes and imagine someone in bed next to him. In twenty-four hours - his phone rings, startling him
a little.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly as the line connects.

“Hey yourself, you made it?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi shifts on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Yeah, showered and ate.
How about you?”

“Yeah, I grabbed some barbecue and I’m settled in. I’m just outside Kansas City and the hotel is
pretty nice, they have breakfast in the morning.”

Yoongi doesn’t think his hotel has breakfast in the morning. “Nice, mine is comfy enough.”
 There’s a slight pause. “I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says quickly, cutting Namjoon off. When they had been searching for Airbnbs,
Yoongi was very embarrassed to have to say no to many of the ones Namjoon picked. When
Namjoon finally confronted him, asking if Yoongi didn’t really want to meet him, Yoongi had to
explain it was out of his budget. It was hard, when Namjoon had gone very quiet and said he was
sorry, he understood.

But Namjoon didn’t understand, and that’s something they’ve struggled with. Namjoon grew up in
a nice big house in the suburbs, a doctor for a mother and an engineer for a father. Namjoon has a
good job with a generous salary and benefits. Namjoon has an apartment with stainless steel
appliances and a 401k. And sometimes Namjoon just didn’t get it, didn’t understand that Yoongi
didn’t have the same disposable income. He often offered help, casually, as if it was no big deal.
Yoongi always declined.

“I’m sorry, babe, I -”

“It’s okay.” Yoongi sighs. He’s just being sensitive. “Sorry, I think I’m just tired.”

“Me too.” A pause. “I get to see you tomorrow.”

Smiling softly, Yoongi rolls onto his side. “What if you think I’m gross in person?”

“Impossible,” Namjoon’s voice is soft. “You’re perfect.”

Yoongi is far from perfect, but he still feels fuzzy when Namjoon says it. They move on swiftly,
neither of them wanting to get caught in a minefield. They do not discuss it.

“Tell me about Kansas?”

“Well,” Namjoon begins, “I haven’t seen Dorothy yet.”

Yoongi chuckles, tugging a pillow against his chest and curling around it. He closes his eyes,
letting Namjoon’s gentle voice wash over him, soothe him as he melts against the mattress. It’s
real, what they have, what they feel for each other. Yoongi can’t wait to prove that tomorrow.

Chapter End Notes

Twitter!
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Big thanks as always to my beta reader Sumi!

Don't forget to check out the playlist Here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The sound of his phone ringing pulls Yoongi from sleep and sweet dreams of Namjoon, dreams
where they're together, Namjoon's hands on his waist, forehead pressed to his. Dreams that could
soon be a reality. Groaning, Yoongi shifts beneath his scratchy blankets, rolling over to grope
blindly for his phone. He's pretty sure the only sound he manages is a tired grunt, eyes still closed,
as he puts the phone to his ear.

A low chuckle wakes him though, causes him to smile and cuddle closer to his pillow. "Good
morning sleepy head," Namjoon murmurs. "Did I wake you?"

Yoongi rolls onto his back, peeling his eyes open to stare at the cracked ceiling above him. "Yeah,
but I don't mind." Yawning, he tilts his head to see the clock on the bedside table. "I should be
getting up anyway. Did you just wake up?"

"I did," Namjoon confirms. "I just wanted to hear your voice." Yoongi smiles and Namjoon
continues, voice suddenly a little softer. "I'm going to see you in less than twelve hours.”

Butterflies explode in Yoongi's belly and he bites into his bottom lip. "Are you nervous?"

"Terrified," Namjoon deadpans, earning a snort from Yoongi. "You?"

"Shitting my pants."

It's Namjoon's turn to laugh then. Yoongi can hear the sound of blankets shifting, Namjoon must
be getting out of bed.

"No matter what," Namjoon says, voice earnest, "I love you."

Yoongi forces himself to sit up as well, feeling a dull ache in his back from being seated in his car
for so long the previous day. "Even if I'm gross?"

"You're not gross," Namjoon counters.

"Even if I'm gross," Yoongi repeats.

A soft chuckle. "Gross how?"

"Namjoon!"

"Even if you're gross," Namjoon promises.

Yoongi smiles and rubs his face with his free hand. Blinking around at the dingy hotel room. "I
love you too."

There's half a second where Yoongi thinks he should tell Namjoon everything. He should tell him
about his job, the truth about it. Tell Namjoon that he quit, but how would he explain it? It's too
embarrassing, too much. It makes him sound childish and petulant, irresponsible. And this way…
well, Namjoon hasn't asked him about it, so Yoongi's not really lying. He still considers saying
something, but Namjoon is speaking again and the moment is gone.

"I'll see you soon, baby."

The pet name fills him with warmth, Yoongi preens under the affection. "So soon. Call when you
stop?"

"Of course, drive carefully."

The call ends and Yoongi forces himself to stand, body protesting as he pushes himself to his feet.
He's sore all over and silently thankful his car is an automatic. He can't imagine how his legs
would feel if he still drove a manual. Moving to his suitcase against the wall, Yoongi rummages
for clothes.

Today’s outfit needed to be something cute, something perfect for the first time Namjoon will see
him. Yoongi had maybe invited Seokjin and Hoseok over under the pretense of drinks for what
turned out to be a fashion panic attack. They had ripped apart his entire closet, choosing all of his
outfits for the trip and the perfect outfit to meet Namjoon in.

They went for casual, not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. And comfortable, he has to
spend the day in the car first. Ripped jeans, a faded Mountain Goats t-shirt and a gray and blue
flannel. The t-shirt is one Namjoon sent him, deep blue with a possum holding a sword on the
front. Then his beat-up sneakers and a newer pair of boxer briefs… just in case.

"Very cute," Hoseok had said happily when Yoongi stood in front of them in the outfit.

"You're every mid-twenties emo homosexual's dream boy," Seokjin had agreed, sipping a hard
seltzer.

As Yoongi pulls his jeans from his suitcase, his fingers brush over a small pouch tucked along the
side. He freezes, body tensing and feeling suddenly a little hot when he remembers what's inside.
It's not presumptuous, it's just practical. Being prepared is important, that's what Boy Scouts say or
something. Yoongi wasn't a Boy Scout, but he's sure Namjoon was and he'd appreciate the
foresight. Maybe. So the little pouch, holding condoms and lube, is just because he's prepared.

Yoongi takes his time in the shower, scrubbing himself thoroughly to make sure he's completely
clean. He's about to spend eight hours in the car, he's going to get a bit sweaty and grimy no matter
what, but he needs to at least start on a high note. The motel had, surprisingly, provided a little bath
kit with a disposable razor. Yoongi only hesitates for a moment before using it. He already shaves
and is mostly hairless in all the places it seems to matter, but a quick refresher won't hurt. Yoongi
doesn't even know if Namjoon would prefer him with or without hair, if he likes smooth softness
but... well, Yoongi will take that chance. Just in case.

By the time he steps out of the shower, Yoongi is flushed pink and baby smooth from ankle to hip.
The little hair dryer attached to the wall barely works, but Yoongi still takes the time to dry his hair
as well as he can. The bleach Hoseok applied a few days ago looks good, he's glad he let Seokjin
talk him into the toner. The nearly white-blonde locks fall across his forehead in neat waves,
looking fluffy and refreshed. He's glad the haystack hair from months ago is gone, that's not the
look he'd want for meeting Namjoon for the first time.

Yoongi dresses carefully, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt once he pulls it over his head. Is it too
much? Too much to wear a t-shirt Namjoon had given him? He worries that it will look like he's
trying too hard, and so will the freshly bleached hair and shaved skin. But maybe it's not a bad
thing, that Yoongi wants to look nice for Namjoon. It's been a while since he's truly had a reason to
care that much about what he looked like when he went out or met anyone. Other than facetime
with Namjoon or selfies he'd send, he didn't take much time with his appearance. He had been big
on it for a while, though not entirely by his own choice. But now, it feels a little nice to have a
purpose, to want it for himself.

When he's dressed, Yoongi braces his hands on the bathroom sink and stares into the mirror. A
man stares back at him who looks reasonably good, cute enough. But the wildness in his eyes is
definitely not ideal. He's a little too pale, bottom lip a little red from nervous nibbling. There's a
slight tremor in his fingers, nerves bubbling to the surface. He's going to meet Namjoon soon. So
soon. In just a few hours his boyfriend will be in front of him in living technicolor. Namjoon Kim
will smile his dimpled smile at Yoongi as he always does, but this time it won't be through a
screen.

"You can do this," he whispers to himself. "Namjoon loves you and wants to meet you. Nothing
can go wrong." So much can go wrong. There are so many eventualities, so many what ifs. Yoongi
has been haunted by them for weeks, has lived through one of them when he quit his job.

But what's he realistically going to do? Climb into his car and turn around, drive back to Boston
and forget about everything?

"No," he hisses, fingers tightening around the vanity. "You deserve this."

Shoving himself away from the sink, Yoongi steps out of the bathroom and moves to his suitcase.
Shoving his dirty clothes inside, he zips up his bag and grabs his backpack off the bed. Two trips to
the car later, everything is loaded and he's ready to go. His car starts with a purr, his Bluetooth
connects and the playlist starts automatically.

Yellowcard's Only One comes through the speakers. A good song, a perfect song to start the
morning with. Yoongi would do anything to get to Namjoon, he's the only thing that matters right
now.

With his GPS guiding him, Yoongi settles in for the drive, leaning his head back against the
headrest as he lets the road stretch before him, lulling him into an absent sense of calm. It's
surprisingly easy to relax when he's driving, to let the miles melt away beneath the wheels and
watch the horizon. His first stop isn't far, and Yoongi allows his mind to wander to Namjoon.

It was weird at first, trying to move their relationship from two guys who met on the internet and
talked about music to more. Though, Yoongi could admit, by the time they decided to officially
move toward something different, they had been more than just two guys on the internet for
months. Trying to be boyfriends while thousands of miles apart was, and still is, something Yoongi
was eager to put the work into, eager to make an effort for.

They talked about meeting, discussed it often. But plane tickets were expensive. Yoongi was pretty
sure Namjoon could afford it, but there were always reasons why it wouldn't work. Time was
never on their side, schedules not matching up and Yoongi's own displeasure at not being able to
afford his own ticket to reciprocate. So a flight never materialized for either of them, and a twenty-
nine-hour drive felt like too much.

Yoongi still remembers their first date, can't help but smile when he thinks about painstakingly
setting up his laptop on his coffee table, adjusting it until the angle of his webcam was perfect. A
movie date, Namjoon suggested. So they both ordered pizza and settled onto their respective
couches. Namjoon's smile filled Yoongi's laptop screen as Netflix loaded on his television and he
could pretend, when Namjoon took a huge bite of his veggie pizza, that he was right there beside
him.

"Count of three," Namjoon declared, brandishing his remote.

They counted down together and pressed play, watching the movie simultaneously while they
drank beer and ate pizza. Yoongi can't even remember what movie they watched, they spent most
of the time talking. And when they weren't talking, Yoongi was staring at Namjoon. It was hard to
look away, to take his eyes off the man on his screen.

It was hard, despite how nice it was. A little painful that he couldn't reach out to wipe the little
smudge of pizza sauce from the corner of Namjoon's lips, couldn't hold his hand. But even that
sharpness was eroded by Namjoon's laughter, his smile, the way he fondly said good night after
nearly five hours on video.

When Yoongi fell into bed later that night, curling up around his rumpled blankets, he muffled a
squeal into his pillow. He woke up smiling, so happy to have Namjoon in his life, even from afar.

"In reality," Yoongi says into the phone, "the coffee pot house is a little underwhelming."

"Send us a video of you singing I'm a Little Teapot in front of it," Seokjin calls, his voice slightly
muffled, as if he's not right next to the phone.

Hoseok's bright laughter comes from much closer to the speaker. "I second that motion, get
someone to record you."

"No one's around," Yoongi grumbles, frowning as he kicks at the gravel beneath his shoes. "It's not
even open yet," he continues, "I guess I'm too early."

"Disappointing, do you think you could get coffee if it was?" Hoseok asks.

Yoongi glances around, stepping forward to try to peer through the windows. "Maybe? I think it's
an art gallery. Though -" he tips his head back, eyeing the white smoke billowing from the spout,
"there's steam coming from the spout."

"Cute!" Hoseok quips.

"Maybe it's just on fire," Seokjin calls and Yoongi can hear his squeaky laughter as Hoseok tries to
shush him.

"How are you feeling, Yoon?"

That's... a question. "I am feeling... feelings?"

"Yoongi Min," Seokjin's voice is closer now, firm. "Are you having second thoughts? Do you need
me to fly to Virginia and carry you home?"
"No," Yoongi huffs, petulant. "I'm fine." Mostly. "It's just - I'm going to see Namjoon in a few
hours."

Neither Hoseok nor Seokjin say anything, waiting for Yoongi to continue.

"What if he doesn't like me?" Yoongi whispers, sinking onto the bench of a picnic table to the side
of the coffee pot house. He brings a hand up to his lips, teeth sinking into the skin at the side of his
thumbnail. "What if it’s like before and this is all… What if he thinks I'm too..." he trails off.

"Too cute?" Hoseok finishes for him.

"Too kind and caring?" Seokjin supplies.

Yoongi smiles around his thumb. "Gross, I'm going to start thinking you actually like me."

"Not on your life," Seokjin huffs. "You're barely tolerable."

Hoseok clicks his tongue and Yoongi hears Seokjin squawk in indignation, as if Hoseok pinched or
kicked him. "Yoongi, you're wonderful. Namjoon is already in love with you, what is going to
change that?"

"What if I'm not enough?" His teeth sink deeper into his thumb, tugging at skin, he tastes the first
metallic tang of blood but can't seem to stop himself. "Or too much?"

"You are the perfect bowl of porridge," Hoseok declares. "Not too much, not too little, just right."

"Except you're short," Seokjin deadpans. Yoongi hears what sounds like a slap and then another
squawk.

Hoseok mumbles something to Seokjin that Yoongi can't entirely make out before his voice comes
back clearer. "You're my sweet little Goldilocks and this is going to be perfect. Namjoon will be
your big sexy bear and you'll have a bed that's just right and -"

"This has gotten weird," Yoongi interrupts. "Is this roleplay? I'm not into this."

Squeaky laughter comes through the phone again and Hoseok huffs. "Fine, I'm just trying to help.
Look, if Namjoon doesn't like you, Jinnie will stab him with his Hello Kitty knife and we can go to
Vermont and get hammered on that nasty ginger cider you love. Deal?"

"Deal," Yoongi agrees, insecurity beaten down for now. He lowers his hand, wiping his thumb on
his jeans. "I can do this, right?"

"Absolutely. Now get in your car and go get your bear."

A few selfies later, Yoongi has sent them to Namjoon and is back on the road. Motion City
Soundtrack is blaring from his speakers and Yoongi hums along, fingers tapping out the beat to
This is For Real. It is for real, it's about to be Yoongi's reality. It's hard not to imagine the
experiences they've shared, to think about how different they'd be in person. Probably no less
embarrassing, at least at first, but just as heated. Probably more so.

It hadn't taken long for their relationship to get heated, even over the phone. There was something
about Namjoon's low voice, his selfies that were definitely thirst traps, that had Yoongi feeling a
little wild. There was some guilt there, touching himself to the image of his boyfriend's lips, curling
two fingers inside himself as he remembered the way Namjoon said his name.

Yoongi had, somehow, suggested it first. Loose lipped and foggy headed from some very good
weed, he was reclining on his bed, listening to Namjoon talk. The conversation wasn't sexual at all,
nothing alluring about it. But Yoongi couldn't help but fixate on Namjoon's voice, the steady
cadence of his words, the way he said baby when he addressed Yoongi. It came as a surprise,
almost, an oh moment when Yoongi realized he was half hard in his pajama pants.

"Namjoon," Yoongi interrupted, unable to stop himself from speaking. "Do you ever think about
me?"

Namjoon paused, voice trailing off and a confused um filtering through the speakers. "Of course I
do," he said finally. "All the time."

"No I mean -" Yoongi shifted on his bed, holding in a groan of frustration. Why was he so worked
up, why was this so difficult, why is he even doing this? "Do you ever think about me when you..."
he trailed off, feeling like a horny teenager again.

There was silence for a beat, two, then a sharp intake of breath. "Oh."

Oh, indeed.

Yoongi seriously considered hanging up and throwing his phone out the window, but then
Namjoon was speaking again. "Yeah, I - yeah. You're so... I can't help it, you make me feel a little
insane."

Yoongi laughed, a surprised sound that burst from his chest and skittered around the room,
bouncing off the walls and dancing through the clouds of smoke around him. "In a good way?"

"I hope so," Namjoon murmured, "it feels good."

"Oh." Yoongi's turn then, to be a little speechless. "Maybe we could, um... feel good together?"

There was a small crash, a muffled curse and then the sound of shuffling, scrabbling. "Fuck, sorry,
I uh -"

"Did you drop your phone, Joon?" Yoongi half laughed. He felt floaty, melting into his mattress as
his free hand crept along his thigh, fingertips walking a teasing trail up his own leg.

"You - you can't just - I -" a sigh, "yes."

Yoongi giggled, curling in on himself a little. The movement caused his fingers to brush against his
cock through his pajamas and he gasped, just a little. Tiny, quiet, barely there, but Namjoon still
heard.

"Baby..." Namjoon's voice seemed somehow lower. "Baby, are you touching yourself?"

"No, I... it was an accident."

"Do you want to..." Namjoon trailed off, voice breathy.

Yoongi swallowed hard, hand hovering over where his erection was now tenting his pajama pants.
"Yes, I - yeah."

This was all so new, they hadn't even gotten close to this before. Sure they sent flirty texts, but
Yoongi wouldn't even call any of those suggestive. And suddenly he wanted to jerk off on the
phone with his boyfriend? Yoongi couldn't even entirely blame the weed. Maybe it lowered his
inhibitions, but he couldn't lie and say he hadn't been thinking about this for weeks. A low thrum
beneath his veins, a dull secondary pulse when he thought about Namjoon's big hands, his lips in
those fucking pictures.

"What do you want to -" Namjoon broke off, laughing softly. "I've never done this before."

"Me neither," Yoongi admitted. "I don't know how to start, do we just - do I -" Tentatively, Yoongi
lowered his hand to the front of his pants, applying pressure to his groin. Breath hitching, he
bucked into the light touch, hissing into the contact.

"Yeah, tell me, uh, what are you wearing?"

Another laugh, half a snort, erupted from Yoongi's core. "Oh my god, Joon, you can't just -"

"Shut up," Namjoon whined, "I told you I'm new to this. Just - fucking - I don't know, set the mood
for me here? Paint a picture? You've already got me hard as fuck."

Oh, okay then. "I feel like I should tell you I'm in something sexy, but I'm in a t-shirt and pajama
pants."

"Take them off?" Namjoon suggested, voice almost a whisper.

"Yeah, okay, I just - um. I'm, you know, through my pants..."

Namjoon made a small, choked sound. "Does it feel good?"

"I like to, ah -" he pressed more firmly against his cock, stroking his thumb over the head through
the soft cotton. "Like to tease."

"No shit," Namjoon snorted. "I'm just in my boxers and a tank top, can I - can I take them off?"

"Yeah, shit, okay I will too - give me a second."

As much as Yoongi liked teasing, liked working himself up, he was already plenty worked up.
Setting his phone next to him on the bed, he whipped off his shirt and shimmied out of his pajama
pants. He hadn't even put on underwear after he showered so once his pajamas were on the floor he
reclined back on his bed, fully naked. For a second, he wondered if he should send Namjoon a
picture. But that felt like too much, start small. Baby steps. Is phone sex a baby step?

"Okay, I'm - yeah," Yoongi mumbled into the phone once he picked it up again.

"Me too," Namjoon sounded a little breathless. "Okay so, I'll um. Start?"

Yoongi licked his lips, fingertips of his free hand ghosting down his chest. "Okay, yeah, what are
you, um, doing?"

"I'm just, uh, touching myself? God I feel so awkward, I'm so sorry," Namjoon huffed. "Okay, I'm
gonna, yeah just -" a groan, low and deep came through the speakers, sending goosebumps down
Yoongi's arms. "God, I'm thinking about you. Your mouth, your pretty lips, and I'm, uh, touching
myself. Just like, playing with the tip, and... yeah."

It shouldn't have been as sexy as it was, Namjoon's words were stilted and nervous, but that didn't
matter. Yoongi's cock was hard and flushed, drooling precum onto his belly. Sliding his hand down
further, he stroked his fingertips along his length, sighing at the contact. "You're so hot," Yoongi
breathed, "I'm always thinking about you. About your hands on me, how they'd feel. They're so big.
I bet - I bet you're big."

"Yeah I'm - yeah. Are you touching yourself? Tell me what you're doing?"

Yoongi wrapped his fingers loosely around his length, slowly stroking himself. The slide wasn't too
difficult, precum making it smooth, his own arousal thrumming through him. He wouldn't care if it
was bone dry, right now he just needed. "I'm going slow, loose, I want to take my time but I'm so
worked up already -" he broke off, back arching as he thumbed over his slit. He moaned, much
louder and needier than he meant to and heard Namjoon curse softly. "Feels good, pretending it's -
it could be you."

Yoongi squeezed his eyes closed he pretended it was Namjoon. Namjoon's big hands on him,
thumb digging into his frenulum and stroking his cock, speeding up as his fingers tightened.
Yoongi wondered what he looked like right then. Was he sitting up? Maybe he was lying down
spread out on his bed, all long limbs and big hands, big dick.

"Wish I could touch you," Namjoon moaned. Yoongi thought he could hear the slick sound of
Namjoon's hand moving over his cock. "Taste you."

Yoongi moaned, high and breathy, embarrassingly needy. His fingers tightened on his cock,
squeezing into the sensitive skin. "I'm not gonna last, I'm just - I'm so -" it was partly the weed, it
always made him horny. Sometimes it would take him hours to come when he was high, but other
times, like this, his entire body was on fire. Buzzing with electricity as he imagined touching
Namjoon, Namjoon touching him. It was going to be over way too fast.

"Me too," Namjoon rasped, voice rough and affected. "I swear I never come this fast, I'm just -
fuck - I wasn't expecting this and you just -"

Months of wanting and now they were here, two thousand miles apart, moaning into the phone as
they imagined each other. Yoongi sped up his strokes, bucking up into his hand to chase the
pleasure as his toes curled against his blankets. "Joonie," he whined, "feels good." So good, better
than anything has felt in ages. In his semi-fuzzy state it was so much easier to imagine Namjoon
there with him, his breath hot on Yoongi's neck, hand pumping his cock. "Joonie," he whined
again, voice breaking on a whimper.

"Fuck, baby," Namjoon groaned, "you sound so good." Namjoon's voice was so deep, moans low
and rumbling, Yoongi felt like he could feel them vibrating through his chest. "Wanna fucking see
you next time, bet you look so good."

"You can," Yoongi breathed, "anything, yeah, wanna see you." His hips bucked again, jack
rabbiting off the bed as pleasure coiled low in his belly, balls tightening. White hot heat pulling
from his fingers and toes, building, building - "Joon, I'm gonna -"

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed, "me too. Let's - fuck - together, yeah? Let me hear how pretty you
sound?"

And that was all it took, Namjoon's husky voice and Yoongi's hand pulling his orgasm out of him.
He cried out, high and wanton, body tensing and arching off the bed as he came. His cum coated
his fist, splattering onto his stomach as he heaved for air. Vision whiting out and mind buzzing, the
only sound his own harsh breathing and Namjoon's low moan, the gasp of Yoongi into his ear.

Sensation and feeling bleeding into him and then back out, receding. Yoongi melted back into the
mattress, heart pounding, trying to catch his breath. He was a mess, pretty sure he hadn't come that
hard in - he couldn't even remember.

"Shit," Namjoon rasped after a few seconds. "That was - damn."

Yoongi chuckled, smiling sleepily as he closed his eyes. "Yeah, I - that was okay right?"

"Yeah, holy shit, better than okay. I've been wanting to, you know, for a while but I didn't know
how to bring it up."

"Sorry that was so sudden." Namjoon just hummed, chuckling softly. Yoongi glanced down at his
dirty hand, his streaked belly. "Should we clean up? Meet back here?"

Here, as if they were in the same place.

"Yeah, be right back."

Dropping his phone, Yoongi pushed himself to sit up, head spinning a little. His legs were wobbly
as he stood, the walk to his bedroom feeling unsteady. He cleaned up quickly, wiping himself
down and washing his hand. Once back in his bedroom, he pulled his pajamas back on and grabbed
his phone again as he sat on his bed.

"God," Yoongi laughed, flopping bonelessly onto his pillows. "We're so awkward, we're so bad at
that."

"Hey, we still got off, it still felt fucking good." Namjoon paused and Yoongi hummed in
agreement, murmuring a soft yeah. There was the sound of shifting blankets, Namjoon probably
getting comfortable in bed again. "Besides, that just means we need to practice more."

A swooping feeling low in his belly, a shiver up his spine. "Yeah," Yoongi breathed, rolling over to
curl up on his side, phone tucked against his ear. "I guess we do."

By the time Yoongi reaches his first stop, he's half hard from the memory of the sounds Namjoon
made on that first call. Namjoon reduced to groans and grunts, taken apart just by Yoongi's voice.
And that was only the beginning of the progression into something more. It was easier to feel like
they were boyfriends when Namjoon was moaning into his ear, easier when he was lying
breathless on his sheets after another orgasm. Though when there was no one there to clean him up
and cuddle him to sleep after, made it harder to pretend. That sharp edge to it didn't help, made it
all a little difficult when Yoongi would curl up in bed after, desperate for strong arms around his
shivering body.

The big pencil that Yoongi has stopped at is just as advertised - a very large pencil. It's attached to
the front of a store, jutting proudly into the air. He parks down the street and snaps a couple
pictures, angling his phone to get himself in the frame for a couple of them. He sends them off and
slips into a coffee shop on the corner, grabbing an iced coffee. His phone rings as he walks back to
his car.

"Hey," Yoongi greets, slipping into his driver's seat and turning the car on. There's a beep and then
Namjoon's voice comes through his car speakers as the Bluetooth connects.

"I thought you said no phone sex while driving?"

Yoongi pauses, hand on the gearshift as he blinks in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You're sending me a giant phallus, babe, what am I supposed to think?"

"You're horrible," Yoongi deadpans, pulling away from the curb. "I can't believe you. Are you
turned on by a giant pencil?"

Namjoon laughs, bright and pleased. "Maybe," he teases. "Or just thinking about you."

Well, that's definitely suggestive. Yoongi takes a moment to remind himself that he is going into
this without expectations, that they never said they'd have sex. They discussed it, a little, both of
them awkward as they decided to see how things feel. Yoongi is pretty sure he'd like nothing more
than to roll around naked in bed with Namjoon for hours on end, but that's not the point of this trip.
They're not meeting up just to fuck. They're meeting up because Yoongi is so gone for this random
drummer from the internet that he needs to kiss his dimples in person.

"You're such a pervert," Yoongi offers, instead of playing into Namjoon's hand. "I'm getting back
on the highway now."

"I'm about four and a half hours away," Namjoon responds. "You?"

Yoongi glances at his GPS, squinting at the screen. "A little more than five hours, not too long."
Five hours. In five hours he will be with the man he's in love with.

"How do you feel?"

Terrified. Like a bundle of nerves. "Okay," he settles for that. "You?"

"Okay," Namjoon echoes, then he snorts. "I see we're lying to ourselves and each other today."

Smiling, Yoongi leans back in his seat, lifting his iced coffee to sip from the straw. "I'm excited,"
he admits. "I can't wait to see you."

"I know, baby. It's all I want."

Warmth, blooming in his chest again, unfurling down to his toes and fingertips. "I'll stop for gas
and food in a couple hours. Will you check in when you get there?"

"Yep," Namjoon agrees. "I'll get the keys and everything, I'll be waiting for you."

They've waited so long for this already, the fact that they only need to wait a few hours more is
almost exhilarating.

"Soon," he murmurs.

"So soon," Namjoon agrees. "Love you,"

"Love you, Joon."

Ending the call, Yoongi sighs, letting out a shaky breath. He cranks up his music as it replaces
Namjoon's voice. Seaway's Something Wonderful, one of Namjoon's favorites. One Namjoon sent
him on a playlist, with a text telling Yoongi that he was something wonderful.

Namjoon sent him that playlist early in the morning, while Yoongi was still asleep, waking up to
the notification. That playlist is one of the ones Yoongi remembers most clearly, it was sent the
morning after the first time they had sex on video. He had woken up a little nervous and raw, afraid
that Namjoon might regret what they had done. But then seeing that notification, the message, it
was exactly what he needed.
Unlike the phone sex, the skype sex had been Namjoon's idea. They were both lying in their
respective beds, panting softly as they came down from a shared orgasm over the phone. Yoongi's
body was still tingly and light, feeling wrung out in all the best places.

"Have you ever thought," Namjoon murmured, voice quiet, "about trying video?"

Licking his lips, Yoongi had shifted a little, sweaty skin sticking to his sheets. "Like... sending
each other videos?"

"No, well, yes, but... Maybe we could skype? So like... live video."

Ah. That is... well that's a thought. Yoongi could see Namjoon touching himself, see his face when
he came. But Namjoon would see the same, be able to see the embarrassing faces Yoongi probably
made, the way he shivered and arched at every light touch of his own hands.

"What if it's weird?"

Namjoon hummed, considering. "I don't think it would be weird, but we don't have to do anything
like that if you're not comfortable." There was a creak of bed springs, as if Namjoon was sitting up.
"I'm perfectly happy with this, this is, shit, it's great. But I'm not going to lie, Yoon, I'd love to see
you. I bet you look so fucking good, bet you flush so nice, bet you've got such a pretty cock."

Yoongi squirmed on the bed, arousal rushing through him again. "Namjoon," he whined, "I just
came."

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed. "I just think about it sometimes. We could do pictures instead, maybe?"

They hadn't sent anything like that, no dick pics or anything even close. Not even pictures of each
other without shirts, though Namjoon did seem to cut the sleeves off an obscene number of t-shirts.
Pictures sounded nice, maybe a good way to start, to ease in. Maybe it was the post-orgasm haze,
the buzz of endorphins in his veins, that made him want to agree. Pictures didn't sound like enough.

"I want to try the video, we could try skype."

"You're sure?" Namjoon asked, voice careful. "I don't want you to do it just because I want to."

Yoongi smiled at the concern. "I want to, I'm pretty sure I have a skype account."

"I only use mine to talk to my parents," Namjoon admitted, "on holidays and stuff. This would be
much better."

"Babe," Yoongi groaned, "please don't talk about your parents while I'm lying here covered in my
own cum."

Another bright laugh, Namjoon dissolving into giggles. "Sorry, sorry. So you think you'd be down?
I - I want to see you so bad."

"Yeah," Yoongi breathed, "I do too."

So they set a date for the next Saturday night. Eight in the evening, Yoongi's time, and a place,
their bedrooms, and Yoongi spent the three days leading up to their date in a strange mixture of
horny panic.

Confiding in Hoseok about it was a mistake, his best friend's ooh was more than enough. Yoongi
groaned, slumping onto the couch as Hoseok grinned at him. "Why are you so nervous? You're
totally hot."

"This is not a thing you would know," Yoongi snapped.

Hoseok waved a hand. "Not a big deal. Just be confident, be yourself -"

"Practice your o face in the mirror," Seokjin suggested from the kitchen.

Yoongi picked up a pillow and screamed into it.

"How do you feel?" Namjoon asked on Saturday night, when Yoongi was sitting cross legged on
his bed in his boxers and a t-shirt, laptop open in front of him. Namjoon was in much the same
position, sitting on his bed watching Yoongi with dark eyes. He was in one of his many sleeveless
shirts.

"Okay," Yoongi mumbled, a little breathless from the view of Namjoon's tight boxer briefs
straining against his muscular thighs.

"I have no idea how to start this, so I'm just going to take my shirt off and we can go from there?"
Namjoon suggested, giving him a nervous smile.

And then he was shirtless, arms stretching over his head as he removed the thin cotton shirt.
Namjoon was built, chest tan and toned, muscular, soft but firm stomach and dark trail of hair that
disappeared into his boxers. Yoongi's mouth went dry, eyes flitting over the screen to take in
everything.

"You next," Namjoon prompted, when Yoongi didn't move or speak.

Nodding mutely, Yoongi tugged his own shirt over his head, not giving himself time to be nervous.

"So pretty," Namjoon praised. "Knew you would be, fuck, look at you. Wanna get my hands on
you, my mouth." Yoongi squirmed, cock chubbing up in his underwear. "Bet you mark up so
pretty."

An embarrassed whine slipped from between Yoongi's lips and he lifted his arms, trying to cover
his reddening chest. "Nuh uh," Namjoon scolded. "Don't hide, I wanna see you."

It took all of Yoongi's willpower to push down the nerves and drop his arms again. Yoongi
watched as Namjoon's hand slid down his chest, moving to the waistband of his boxers and
fiddling with the elastic. His hand skimmed lower, heel of his palm pressing into his cock. "You
look so good," he purred, "touch yourself for me baby?"

He moved without thinking, bringing a hand to the front of his boxers to palm himself. He shifted
on the bed, uncrossing his legs and spreading them, giving Namjoon a better view. Namjoon
groaned as he watched, hand pressing harder through the fabric of his own underwear.

"Are you sensitive, baby?" Namjoon murmured. "Touch your nipples?"

Yoongi lifted one hand to his chest, fingertips brushing over one hardening bud. He hissed at the
contact, eyes closing and body tensing as he teased over the sensitive skin.

"You're so pretty," Namjoon praised.

Opening his eyes again, Yoongi focused on the screen. Namjoon's hand was in his boxers, clearly
stroking his length beneath the fabric. Yoongi wanted to tell him to take them off, let him see, but
his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth.

Pinching at his nipple, Yoongi exhaled a shaking breath as he squirmed, feeling his chest flushing.
He kept palming himself with his other hand, ghosting touches through his underwear.

"We should -" he rasped, cleared his throat. "We should take our underwear off."

"Yeah?" Namjoon breathed, hand stilling inside his boxers. "Okay."

Swallowing, Yoongi hooked his fingers in his waistband and tugged his underwear down before he
could second guess himself. His cock sprung free, hard and flushed red at the tip, already leaking
precum just from the light touches, the sound of Namjoon's voice. When he looked back at the
screen, his eyes widened as he took Namjoon in.

Gorgeous, all tan skin and taut muscle. And big, big everywhere just like Yoongi expected. His
cock hard and long, thick and dark in his hand. Namjoon's fist slowly stroked along his length, the
darker head disappearing and reappearing from his fingers. Yoongi's mouth filled with saliva,
imagining how Namjoon's cock would feel in his hands, in his mouth. It would ache, he mused, the
way his jaw would stretch around his girth. And elsewhere, how Namjoon would feel inside of
him, splitting him open.

Yoongi bit back a whimper at the thought, cock dribbling precum onto his belly. "You're so sexy,"
he croaked. He wasn't even touching himself, too fixated on the way Namjoon's hand glided over
himself.

"So are you, baby," Namjoon murmured, voice husky and raw. "So beautiful for me, so pale and
pink all over aren't you? Wanna get my hands on you, on your pretty thighs, your pretty cock."
Yoongi whined then, unable to prevent the sound from escaping. Namjoon smiled, something sly
and hungry. "Let me see how you touch yourself."

Yoongi obeyed, bringing his hand to his cock and closing his fingers around himself. He couldn't
help but moan at the contact, hips jumping as he touched the heated flesh. Worked up already,
leaking an embarrassing amount of precum that made the slide so easy as he began to stroke
himself.

"Go slow," Namjoon commanded, voice seeming somehow even deeper. "Let me see how you
make yourself feel good, baby."

Normally, Yoongi didn't like being told what to do. He’d had someone telling him what to do for
too long before. He didn't like being bossed around in bed that much, ordered around like some
blushing baby. But he couldn't help but follow along to what Namjoon wanted, loving the way
Namjoon's voice sounded as he told him to go faster or play with the slit, yeah like that . His toes
curling and heat singing up and down his spine, sweat beading on his skin as he panted. Couldn’t
deny how much he loved Namjoon calling him baby in that husky voice.

His eyes were fixed on Namjoon, on the way his hand moved almost languidly over himself, long,
elegant fingers with trimmed nails. How would they feel on Yoongi's body? How would Namjoon
touch him? Gripping and forceful, sweet and gentle? He didn't care, it didn't matter, he would
welcome any touch, as long as it was Namjoon.

"You'd look so good under me," Namjoon purrs, "flushed and whining, so pretty as I take you
apart."

A surge of defiance bubbled in Yoongi's chest. "Bold of you to think you could have me like that,"
Yoongi growled. "Just because I'm small, you think you could just pin me down? I don't whine."

Namjoon chuckled, the sound sending heat through Yoongi's veins. "You're whining for me right
now, baby."

So he was, unable to control himself. He stroked himself faster, hips twitching on the mattress as
he fucked up into his fist. Pleasure coiled tight in his body, heat building low in his belly. Breathy
moans and whines spilled past his lips, he was too far gone to stop them, Namjoon still crooning
filth through the speakers. The slick sound of their hands seeming loud in the quiet of Yoongi's
bedroom, Namjoon's groans of pleasure amplified a thousand-fold.

"I'd make you feel so good," Namjoon promised.

Yoongi believed him, knew it was true. He couldn't look away from Namjoon's body, his flushed
face and hooked eyes, his leaking cock. His thighs were trembling and tensing, visible through the
screen.

"Want you to," Yoongi croaked, "want you to make me feel good."

"I will," Namjoon assured. "Next time I wanna see you finger yourself, maybe ride a dildo while
you beg for me. Would baby do that for me?" Yoongi whined, arching off the bed as he nodded
eagerly, head bobbing erratically.

"Yeah," he groaned, "yeah, yeah, anything. Wanna be full, want you to see, I can - ah - I can take
it."

"Course you can," Namjoon purred. He was quiet for a moment, watching Yoongi with hungry
eyes. "Is baby gonna come for me?"

Yoongi nodded again, teeth sunk into his bottom lip hard enough to hurt. His hand flew over
himself, fingers tight around his cock as he whined and moaned.

"Me too, let go, baby, let me see."

That was all it took, a string snapping inside of him and Yoongi arched off the bed again, his
release washing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure. Sticky white painted his fist and stomach,
some even hitting his chest. He panted through it, chest heaving as his white fuzzed and sparked,
body trembling and shaking through the crescendo. He had enough presence of mind to watch
Namjoon, to see his hips jump and his release to shoot over his fingers and belly, to hear him curse,
hear the ragged Yoongi, baby that fell from his lips.

With a whimpered sigh, Yoongi fell back against his blankets, letting his eyes fall closed as he tried
to feel his body again.

"You were strangely good at that," Yoongi murmured, turning his head to watch Namjoon's face.
"Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

They're back in their beds, dressed in their underwear after cleaning up. They had taken a few
moments to pant and remember how to breathe before Namjoon suggested they take a quick break.
Yoongi had waddled to his bathroom, blearily cleaning up and staring at himself in the sink,
flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He can't believe they did that, but fuck did it feel good.

"Um..." Namjoon licked his lips and Yoongi was pretty sure his cheeks were a little pink. "I may
have, uh, read some articles? And asked Jimin for advice on what to like... do and say. He, uh,
streams sometimes."
"Streams?" Yoongi echoed.

Namjoon nodded. "Yeah, him and sometimes Taehyung with him. Like… live shows and stuff.
You know…" he looked awkward.

"Not Jungkookie?" Namjoon shook his head in response and Yoongi smiled. "Do you ever watch?"

"No!" Namjoon nearly shouted, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "That's - that would be so weird!"

Yoongi giggled, turning onto his side so he could face his computer on the nightstand, like he was
facing Namjoon across the sheets. So close, if he just reached out, he could trace the curve of his
jaw. Almost. "Whatever you say, babe. Well, thank Jimin, it paid off, that was good. I'm sorry if I
was too -"

"You were perfect," Namjoon interrupts. They smile at each other for a minute before Namjoon
shifts, face becoming more serious. "Hey," he begins. "You know I -" he breaks off, searching
Yoongi's face through the screen. "I love you."

Fireworks explode in Yoongi's mind, flowers burst and bloom in his chest, the air knocked from
his lungs with more force than his previous orgasm. Yoongi had felt that way for a while, months
probably, burning in his chest, hanging heavy like a weight around his neck. But he felt stupid, was
it stupid to love someone he never met? Someone halfway across the country? If it was stupid,
well, maybe Yoongi didn't need to be smart

"I love you too, Namjoon," he whispered, turning his head to hide his smile in his pillow.

"Cool," Namjoon breathed, dimples popping, and Yoongi burst into a fit of giggles.

Yoongi's fingers shake as he lifts the nozzle from the fuel pump, nearly missing as he slots it into
his gas tank. Two hours. Two hours from Nashville and Namjoon. Setting the lever to hold the
pump on, he hurries into the gas station, grabbing a few snacks and a pack of gum, a bottle of
water. By the time he pays and gets back to his car, his gas tank is full and he's ready to move on.

His stomach churns as he forces chips into his mouth. They feel like paste on his tongue and he
swallows hard, knowing he needs to eat. The swarm of butterflies in his belly threatens to swirl up
his throat and he swallows hard, forcing it back down.

He tries to focus on the music, on Conor Oberst singing about love. The song feels poignant,
Yoongi can relate. It feels like the first day of his life, too. Poised on the edge of something bigger,
something brighter, a possibility of greatness. All Yoongi needs to do is make it two more hours
and reach out, take hold of something that is finally truly real. The possibility is as thrilling as it is
terrifying.

The idea to meet came about almost abstractly, neither of them really intended for the conversation
to go that way. Namjoon had been telling Yoongi about the eclipse over facetime, excitedly
reciting the details as he talked with his hands, phone propped on his desk. And Yoongi watched,
endeared, as Namjoon rambled on and on. He seemed to realize, quite suddenly, that Yoongi hadn't
spoken in a while and clamped his jaw shut, cutting himself off.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, "I'm rambling. This is probably really boring."

"Not at all," Yoongi insisted, "I love when you're passionate about something. Tell me more?"
Namjoon looked pleased, smiling softly. "Oh, well, okay then. It's a once in a lifetime event, you
know? There's not going to be another like this for who knows how long! It'll be visible from so
many places."

"I'll be able to see it from Boston, then?"

Nodding, Namjoon smiled. "It won't be as great as if you were in the path of totality, but you'll still
see something."

"The path of what now?"

"Oh, well, there will be a path, like a, uh... line? Yeah, a line across the country where it's most
visible. It won't even be great where I am, I'd have to go South. I thought about it, maybe driving
down."

"That would be cool, I've always wanted to road trip somewhere."

Namjoon nodded along. "Yeah, I wouldn't have to go that far, it would be doable in a couple days.
I'd love to do it, to really see the full thing you know?"

"I know," Yoongi agreed, feeling himself getting pulled into Namjoon's excitement. "That would
be really cool, I'd love to see it." He smiled, chuckling a little. "Wouldn't it be cool if we could see
it together?"

They talked like that often, quips about how much better things would be together. Casual
statements of we should do that someday shared over voice and video calls. But Namjoon didn't
smile back, instead he looked a little nervous.

"Um... we could."

Yoongi blinked at the screen, his phone held over his face as he laid on his bed. "What?"

"There's - well, one of the best spots for watching is kind of halfway between us. I may have just...
looked a little. We could meet in the middle, in Nashville, and see it together."

"How far?" Yoongi asked, head filling with static.

Namjoon leaned forward, face filling the screen. "Sixteen hours, we could do it in two days.
There's plenty of Airbnbs there, plenty to do. I didn't mean to look into it but I... I maybe got
wrapped up, just... imagining."

"We should do it," Yoongi blurted, surprising himself.

Namjoon didn't respond for a moment, looking stunned. "Are you serious? You'd really -"

"Yes," Yoongi cut in. "It's been almost a year Namjoon, let's just - let's do it. Sixteen hours is
doable, right? I can take off work, I never take time off, I - I want to see you."

"Okay," Namjoon breathed, nodding eagerly. "Okay, yeah. Let's - you're sure? You want to do
this?"

"Please," Yoongi whispered, fingers clutching his phone hard enough that he's surprised the shell
didn't crack. "I want to watch this once in a lifetime cosmic event with you."

"You're a once in a lifetime cosmic event."

Yoongi groaned, letting his arm flop to the side. "And you've ruined it. Never mind, I'll watch the
eclipse by myself."

"No!" Namjoon was laughing and Yoongi lifted his phone again, watching his eyes close as he
laughed, how joyful he looked. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Lame."

Namjoon smiled. "You like it."

"Apparently," Yoongi said with another roll of his eyes.

"No take backs," Namjoon said, shifting back to serious. "We're doing this? August twenty-first,
2017, we're doing this? You and me?"

"You and me," Yoongi agreed. "You and me and the Great American Eclipse."

Yoongi's exit looms before him, the sign directing him off the highway and onto a much less busy
road, a two lane stretch leading into the suburbs. Spotting a gas station, Yoongi pulls into the
parking lot and gets out. He digs in his trunk, searching through his suitcase for his toiletry bag.
Striding inside, he obtains the bathroom key and steps into the little room, pleased that it's not
filthy.

Taking a few minutes to breathe, Yoongi tries to calm his racing pulse, his trembling fingers. He's
ten minutes from Namjoon, ten minutes from the Airbnb. Namjoon had texted almost an hour ago
that he had arrived, would check in and be waiting. Yoongi feels halfway to a panic attack and
forces himself to take a deep breath, the air leaving him in a shaky exhale. Memories of years ago
surge through him, harsh words and sneers, complaints that he wasn’t enough. But Namjoon is not
that, Namjoon is never that.

Opening his toiletry bag, he reapplies deodorant and brushes his teeth, rinsing his mouth with
mouthwash. There's no guarantee they'll even kiss but Yoongi wants to be ready for any situation.
He doesn't need weird breath from his iced coffee and barbecue chips. Running his fingers through
his hair after, he tries to fix the back, fluffing it where it's been pressed into the seat. He looks
good, or at least okay, as good as he's going to get.

Staring in the mirror, Yoongi fixes himself with a determined look. "Namjoon loves you," he tells
himself. "Namjoon loves you and he wants to meet you. You are going to march out of here and
get in your car and drive to meet him. You are not going to panic, you are going to count to five
and leave this bathroom."

"One."

Yoongi clenches his hands into fists at his sides, willing away the shaking in his limbs.

"Two."

He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter closed and lets it out again. Opening his eyes, he
meets his own gaze in the mirror, giving himself a nod.

"Three."

Gathering his toiletry bag from the sink, Yoongi zips it up and tucks it under his arm.
"Four."

Yoongi turns from the mirror, straightening his shoulders as he steps toward the door and flips the
lock.

"Five."

His fingers close around the handle and he pulls the door open, stepping back into the gas station.
Swallowing down his nerves, Yoongi puts one foot in front of the other, shoving open the doors
into the bright summer sun, heading towards something wonderful.

The miles tick down on the GPS, the minutes to his destination descending rapidly as Yoongi
navigates the suburban neighborhood. His fingers tremble on the wheel but he clenches them
tightly, clammy palms sliding across the worn leather. He feels a bit out of breath, a little sweaty,
but he's not backing down. This is something he can't run away from, something he doesn't want to
run away from.

The song ends and a soft guitar comes through his speakers, Cat Power's voice crooning. Sea of
Love fills the interior of the car, sweet and gentle. A love song that Yoongi can play with his eyes
closed, one he'd love to play for Namjoon. He turns onto the street. The GPS reads less than a mile
away.

There's a car in the driveway, a black Jeep with Colorado plates and a Fueled by Ramen bumper
sticker. His heart lurches. Pulling into the driveway, Yoongi stops behind the Jeep, trying to
remember how to breathe. His hands are still on the wheel, feeling like they're glued there. He
hasn't even put the car in park, foot heavy on the brake. And then the front door is opening and
Yoongi throws the car into park.

He's moving before he has time to worry, flinging open his door and stumbling onto the driveway.
No time to close the door or even turn off the car. He can still hear Cat Power, I want to tell you
how much I love you.

Namjoon is stepping onto the porch, in cargo shorts and that Lobstercrombie and Pinch sweatshirt
Yoongi sent him, the red faded and worn. It's ninety degrees and Namjoon is in that stupid
sweatshirt and Yoongi is so fond. His heart is in his throat, feet carrying across the blacktop to the
porch. Yoongi moves forward, feeling like he's turning to stone, limbs sluggish like he's wading
through quicksand. He doesn't know if he wants to cry or throw up, Namjoon is there smiling at
him, messy hair and dimpled smile, moving to meet him.

And then arms, strong and warm, wrapping around Yoongi's body, pulling him close against a firm
chest. His arms come up automatically, curling around Namjoon as he buries his face in the soft
cotton of the sweatshirt. He inhales, breathing Namjoon in, feeling like it's the first breath he's
taken in weeks, months, years. Namjoon smells clean and safe, like expensive hotel soap and fresh
laundry. Yoongi feels himself melting into the embrace, into the scent, cocooned in comfort.

They don't speak or move for a long moment, just holding each other. Yoongi thinks he might be
crying, silent tears welling in his eyes. He's here and Namjoon is holding him, so big and strong,
blanketing him in love. And then Namjoon shifts, his cheek pressing to Yoongi's temple, lips
brushing his skin as Namjoon finally speaks.

"Hi," he murmurs, voice deep, deeper and warmer than it sounds over Yoongi's phone speakers,
through his headphones, sending light to the tips of his toes, curling them in his shoes.
 Yoongi fists his hands in the fabric of the sweatshirt, trying to pull Namjoon impossibly closer, as
if he might disappear. He rubs his face against the soft material, taking in another shaky breath.
"Hi."

Chapter End Notes

Come say hello on Twitter!

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist on Spotify here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Yoongi doesn't think he's ever felt so safe. Here, on this porch in Tennessee with Namjoon's arms
wrapped around him, Namjoon's face buried in his hair. The tears are unavoidable and
embarrassing. Yoongi doesn't even know what they're for, why he's crying. Maybe it's the nearly
overwhelming feeling of relief. Namjoon is murmuring soft words, one hand rubbing up and down
Yoongi's back, soothing, gentle.

Namjoon is so tall, so strong and warm. He fits around Yoongi like a glove, like a well-loved
sweater. Holding him so easily, so perfectly. Yoongi feels like he's melting into Namjoon's chest,
his quiet tears dampening the front of Namjoon's sweatshirt. The scent of clean freshness swirls
around him, enveloping him in comfort, like a blanket fresh from the dryer. Like home. Yoongi
can't believe he's here, can't believe that this is really happening.

"I can't believe we're really here," Namjoon murmurs, seeming to read Yoongi's thoughts. "You're
really here."

Yoongi pulls back enough to look at Namjoon's face, giving him a watery smile. "Me neither."

Up close, without the pixilation of a screen, Namjoon is even more beautiful. Handsome and
bright, with golden skin and warm eyes. Eyes that look a little glassy, as if he's holding back his
own tears. A faded scar on his chin that Yoongi hadn’t been able to see through his screen. It
makes him seem real, like this is not an illusion. And his smile, so perfect and sweet, dimples
deeper than wells.

"Your smile is even better in person," Namjoon says softly.

Yoongi feels himself blushing and tries to duck his head, sure he looks like a mess. But Namjoon
doesn't let him, bringing up a hand to cup Yoongi's cheek and keep their eyes connected. Namjoon
searches his face, as if he's mapping his features, committing them to memory.

"Can I kiss you?" Namjoon murmurs, thumb brushing over Yoongi's cheekbone.

"Yeah," Yoongi breathes, fingers tightening in the fabric of the sweatshirt.

Namjoon smiles down at him and leans in. Yoongi meets him, lifting slightly on his toes. His eyes
flutter closed and breath fans across his lips, sweet and ticklish.

And then there are lips against his. So soft, so warm and plush. Namjoon's lips feel like heaven,
fitting against his so perfectly as Namjoon tilts his head. It's chaste and innocent, just a gentle
press, but it's so much. Fireworks explode in his mind, the butterflies in his stomach taking flight as
his heart lurches in his chest.

Yoongi's body fills with warmth and he feels almost like he's floating. Everything is light and a
kaleidoscope of brilliant colors. They're kissing and Yoongi is alive and breathing and whole,
maybe for the first time.

They draw back, lips parting with a small click. Yoongi's eyes open slowly, blinking up at the man
still holding him. His boyfriend, his boyfriend who he has just kissed for the first time.

"I love you," Yoongi whispers, needing to say the words out loud in the world, needing them to be
heard.

He has loved Namjoon through screens and speakers for months. But now, standing in the
sunlight, he is allowed to love him for real.

"I love you," Namjoon whispers back, palm still cupping Yoongi's cheek, thumbing away tears
from his skin. "So, so much." He grins, dimples deepening. "And you're definitely not gross."

Yoongi laughs, a surprised sound that bubbles from his chest like a fountain. "I'm glad." He smiles,
pulling away a little, hands landing on Namjoon's arms through the sweatshirt, not wanting to let
go. "You're not gross either."

"Good," Namjoon declares, smile somehow stretching further. His eyes sparkle. "I'd still love you
though."

They stand there smiling dopily at each other for who knows how long, could be seconds, maybe
minutes or hours. Yoongi could stay like this forever, memorizing the swirls of russet and gold in
Namjoon's eyes. Neither of them wants this moment to end.

But finally, Namjoon steps back, one hand still on Yoongi's waist. "Can I help you bring your bags
in?"

Yoongi nods and steps back as well, licking his lips. His lips that were just against Namjoon's.
"That would be great."

They make quick work of bringing everything inside. The cooler and remaining snacks go into the
kitchen and everything else goes upstairs.

"I'm so glad you brought your guitar," Namjoon says happily as Yoongi lifts the case from the
trunk. "I've been dying for you to play for me."

"I play for you all the time," Yoongi teases.

Namjoon lifts Yoongi's suitcase and smiles. "You're going to serenade me and you're not getting
out of it," he insists.

Yoongi smiles back. As nervous as it makes him feel, he can't deny that he wants that too. He's
imagined it so many times, the two of them sitting on Yoongi's bed facing each other. Yoongi with
his guitar on his knee while Namjoon leans in, kissing him sweetly. It could be real.

Ascending the steps to the second floor of the small house they rented, Yoongi pauses on the
landing. There are only two doors at the top of the stairs and one clearly leads to the bathroom.
Squaring his shoulders, Yoongi follows Namjoon through the other door, into a room with one
queen sized bed.

They had talked about it, discussed it maybe too much, making sure they were both comfortable.
But in the end, they decided on one bedroom. One bed for them to share.

It makes Yoongi's belly swirl, a curl of nervous excitement making his insides feel like jelly.
"You okay?" Namjoon asks, turning back after setting Yoongi's suitcase on the bed.

Yoongi realizes he's standing in the doorway. He blinks and nods, pushing down the fear and
letting the excitement, the happiness, fill him. "Yeah," he responds, "I'm great."

Namjoon graces him with another dimpled smile and Yoongi steps into the room.

After they settle all of Yoongi's bags inside, Namjoon suggests they head to the store. They're only
at the house for a few days, but it would be good to have snacks and drinks, things for a couple
meals to save some money. They set off in Yoongi’s car, Namjoon looking up directions on his
phone.

As soon as Yoongi backs out of the driveway, Namjoon takes his hand, linking their fingers
together. They barely let go at all, just to get out of the car and for Namjoon to grab a cart. It seems
like Namjoon has the same desire, to keep Yoongi close and hold onto him.

There is a fear, very small at the back of Yoongi's mind, that Namjoon might disappear. That this is
all a dream and Yoongi will wake up. But if he clings, if he keeps a hold on Namjoon, he will not
vanish. Maybe Namjoon feels the same way.

"I thought we could get things for breakfasts, maybe sandwiches. Some snacks and drinks?"

Yoongi nods, mentally tallying costs. He can afford it, barely. This will, overall, save him money,
so he pushes down the bubble of stress and agrees.

"Beer?"

Namjoon laughs. "What did you think I meant by drinks?"

Walking through the grocery store with Namjoon, Yoongi can't help but smile at how natural it
feels. Namjoon stands next to him, mumbling something about eggs as he pushes the cart one
handed, other hand holding Yoongi's.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, Namjoon's fingers slotted between his, warm palms pressed
together. Yoongi never wants to let go.

"Do you think this is enough stuff?" Yoongi asks when they're at the end of the store. He eyes the
cart a little nervously. Beer, chips, fruit, meat and cheese, eggs and bread. A bottle of orange juice
and one of red wine. It's not going to break Yoongi's wallet too badly, but there are still a lot of
days to get through. There will still be a pinch, everything in the cart is name brands, higher end.
It’s all basic foods, things that Yoongi would buy the store-brand version of. But Namjoon doesn’t
even seem to notice the store brands.

When it’s Yoongi’s turn to grab something from a shelf, he hesitates for a moment, glancing at
Namjoon before he grabs the store brand. Namjoon, astute as ever, seems to notice, but doesn’t
comment. But Yoongi does notice that the orange juice Namjoon picks up near the end of the store
is one of the cheaper options.

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, his thumb rubbing absently over the back of Yoongi's hand. "I think
so, do you want anything else?"

"I'm good," Yoongi says immediately. "Do you want to split it?"
Namjoon pushes the cart toward the check out. "I can just get it," he says casually.

Yoongi stares at the side of his face but Namjoon doesn't look over. He is very purposefully staring
again. "Namjoon," Yoongi begins, "I can pay for half."

"I know but…" Namjoon trails off. "What if I want to treat you?"

He doesn't need to be treated, as sweet as it might sound. Namjoon probably is just trying to be
sweet, wanting to be a good boyfriend. But Yoongi feels a little defensive about it… maybe they
can compromise. "Split this and I'll let you buy me a drink tonight," Yoongi offers.

"Dinner," Namjoon counters. Yoongi opens his mouth to argue but Namjoon speaks first. "Dinner
and you can buy the first round of drinks."

Yoongi’s lips twitch and he nods, accepting Namjoon's offering. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr.
Kim."

Namjoon grins and leans in. "You are a tough negotiator Mr. Min." Namjoon's lips brush over his,
chaste and quick, barely a peck. It still makes Yoongi's legs turn to jelly, makes him almost drop
the eggs when he tries to place them on the belt at the register.

Namjoon just chuckles at him, smiling wide, with dimples popping, when Yoongi shoots him a
glare.

“I should move here,” Namjoon groans, hunched over the table and his large platter of ribs. “I love
barbecue so much.”

Yoongi tries not to stare at the way Namjoon licks the sauce from his fingers, curling his tongue
around the digits before popping them into his mouth to suck. He doesn’t seem to have any idea
what he’s doing or what it looks like. Yoongi is in pain.

“Do they not have barbecue in Colorado?” Yoongi teases, leaning his elbows on the table.

“They do,” Namjoon says around a mouthful of rib meat. “But not like this. I’m going to need to
buy a tub of this sauce.”

Yoongi smiles, picking up his beer and taking a sip. “I’m sure we can find you a few bottles,
maybe a jug.”

“No,” Namjoon says emphatically. “A tub. Like a bathtub.”

Namjoon is just as cute and funny in person as he had been over the phone and video. Dorky in the
most adorable way, and so earnest that it makes Yoongi feel a little overwhelmed at times. It’s
mostly the way Namjoon has been looking at him, he thinks. He’ll glance away and turn back,
finding Namjoon’s eyes on him. The fond looks, as if he can’t believe Yoongi is real. He can’t
judge, not really. Yoongi’s pretty sure he has the same look on his face when he looks at
Namjoon.

“I’m not sure you can fit a bathtub of barbecue sauce in your Jeep, but we can try,” Yoongi laughs,
smiling.

Namjoon smiles back. “I really do love your smile.”

“Ah, Namjoon.” Yoongi can’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks. It had been hard enough to
get used to Namjoon complimenting him over the phone, and that still makes him a little shy. And
now, in person, it’s even harder.

Chuckling, Namjoon picks up a napkin to wipe his face and hands. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute
when you get flustered, babe.”

Babe. A wave of heat shoots up Yoongi’s spine and his eyes widen. He hadn’t considered how
Namjoon calling him babe in person would feel. It feels good, very good, almost too much. He
wants to hear it more, in Namjoon’s deep voice, praise and endearments and… he swallows,
pushing the thoughts away before they turn dangerous.

They lapse into quiet, both of them returning to their meals. Yoongi finds it suddenly a little hard to
chew his pulled pork sandwich. The barbecue sauce is really good, but suddenly it tastes dry and
bland. He swallows hard. How long have they been quiet for?

It's probably bad, right? The quiet between them. It doesn't feel bad. They're both tired from driving
for two days and the silence between them feels comfortable, companionable. But still…

Yoongi can't help but feel a little nervous. What if things won't be as simple? What if they can't
actually talk and have a conversation without screens? What if they don't have anything to talk
about?

"Is this awkward?" Namjoon blurts suddenly, surprising Yoongi who nearly drops his sandwich.

Yoongi blinks, taking in Namjoon's nervous features, his wide eyes. Apparently he isn't the only
nervous one. Namjoon always seems so cool and calm, relaxed under pressure. But it's clear now,
with Namjoon in front of him, that he's just as nervous about this as Yoongi is.

"Oh god, okay, it's not just me?"

Namjoon shakes his head and Yoongi laughs, suddenly feeling a bit relieved.

"This might sound stupid but I'm so tired and I'm just, like… really happy? I just feel so good
sitting here with you but then my brain -"

"Yeah!" Namjoon cuts in, nodding along. "That's exactly it. I feel so comfortable and happy but
then my brain starts telling me silence is bad."

"Exactly," Yoongi agrees. "Brains are stupid. I'm really happy to be here with you."

Namjoon smiles, most of the nervousness melting away. "I think this is really common though, you
know? It's our first time meeting, it's not going to be perfect, right?"

Yoongi wants it to be perfect though. It feels so good already, to be seated across from Namjoon.
"I'm sure you're right." Yoongi pauses, considers. "You read articles, didn't you?"

A blush darkens Namjoon’s cheeks. "No… maybe, shut up!"

Yoongi dissolves into laughter, the tension fading from the moment as his shoulders shake. When
he regains control of himself he looks back at Namjoon, finding him already watching. He's
smiling, that fondness sparkling in his eyes.

"People do this all the time, right?" Namjoon offers. "Like, dating apps are a thing. People meet on
them and then meet eventually. This isn't any different."
"It's a little different," Yoongi counters. "Usually those people are at least in the same city."

"True." Namjoon shrugs. "But I think the principle is the same. Look, it's going to be a little weird
and awkward sometimes but I literally do not want to be anywhere else right now."

"Me neither," Yoongi murmurs. "I just want to be with you."

Namjoon beams, picking up another rib. "Even when your pioneer wife is back in Pennsylvania?"

It's easier then, to fall into a rhythm, to talk normally. Namjoon orders another round of beers and
asks Yoongi about his drive. Yoongi asks Namjoon about his in turn and time passes.

"Ah, Joon." Yoongi leans forward, pointing to the front of Namjoon's sweatshirt. "You got some
sauce -"

Namjoon looks down and groans in dismay. "Oh no! This is my favorite sweatshirt!" Yoongi can't
help the curl of warmth at the words. He knew it, but it's nice to hear it aloud. "What if it's
ruined?"

"It's not," Yoongi says gently. "I can get it out."

Namjoon is frantically wiping his hands on a napkin. "Do you really think so? I don't want it to
stain?"

"I do," Yoongi assures him. "Don't worry, I'm a master at getting stains out. Do you know how
much drawn butter I've gotten on my clothes?"

Namjoon snorts and seems to calm a bit. "Alright, thank you." He fingers the slightly frayed hem.
"I'm going to take it off though, just in case."

"Good idea, it's also over ninety degrees. Aren't you hot?"

Namjoon shrugs. "A bit, but it's not a big deal. I like wearing it."

Yoongi watches as Namjoon pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The shirt underneath rides up and a
strip of smooth, tanned stomach is exposed. Namjoon's skin looks so soft. Yoongi tries not to stare
at the trail of dark hair below his navel, the mole just to the side. Lifting his beer, Yoongi takes a
large gulp, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat.

No expectations, he reminds himself. But it's still hard not to fantasize. It's been months of getting
off to Namjoon's voice, his grainy image through a screen. Months of getting himself off. Yoongi
can't help it if he can't stop thinking about touching his boyfriend, having his boyfriend touch him.
The thought of those big hands on his body makes him feel a little sweaty. He's trying not to have
any expectations, but Namjoon is big and gorgeous and Yoongi wants to climb him like a tree.

"Hopefully I don't make any more of a mess," Namjoon says with a sigh. "I'm not making a great
first impression, you're going to think I'm a wreck."

Yoongi laughs, shaking his head. "If you could eat barbecue ribs without making a mess, I would
think you were an alien. You're fine." He pauses. "That's an interesting shirt."

Like most of Namjoon's t-shirts, the sleeves have been chopped off this one. Yoongi tries not to
focus on the fact that Namjoon's biceps are out and they are large. He knows Namjoon likes to
spend a lot of time outside, that's clear from his honey tanned skin, the light scattering of freckles
on the hints of his shoulders that Yoongi can see. Instead of focusing on Namjoon's arms, he looks
at the shirt itself.

Madonna. Like a Virgin World Tour 1985.

"Jimin got it for me at a vintage shop, it's authentic!" He glances down at the singer on the front.
"Do you not like it?"

"Well," Yoongi begins, "if anyone in this restaurant had any doubt about you being a homosexual,
they're certain now."

Namjoon snorts. "You don't think they were certain when we walked in here holding hands?
Besides, I didn't think I'd be taking my sweatshirt off."

"Fair. Maybe we should make sure everyone is very certain," Yoongi says with a sly grin.

"Yoongi Min!" Namjoon lets out a scandalized gasp. "I can't believe you'd try to sully my honor."
Yoongi laughs and Namjoon beams at him, leaning across the table to give him a quick peck.
Yoongi has to fight to not chase after his lips, sticky sweet with sauce. "There," he murmurs,
cheeks pink, "now they're sure."

"Anyway," Yoongi moves on, taking a sip from his beer to hide his own flushed cheeks. "I didn't
know you were a fan of Madonna?"

"Of course I am, you aren't?" Yoongi shrugs and Namjoon continues. "I think it's very punk for a
woman to absolutely kill it at every age. Are you a sexist, Mr. Min?"

Yoongi scowls at him. "You know how I feel about Debbie Harry, of course I'm not a sexist."

"I don't understand how you can like Blondie but not Madonna. That's like saying you like Dolores
O'Riordan and the Cranberries and not Shirley Manson and Garbage."

"Firstly, you can like the Cranberries without liking Garbage, they have very different vibes,"
Yoongi argues. “Secondly,” he continues, “I do like Madonna. And maybe you're the sexist, just
lumping a bunch of female-led bands together."

Namjoon scowls at him. "You think you're funny, but you're not." Yoongi grins and Namjoon rolls
his eyes. "You're lucky you're so cute," he mutters.

"Is Jimin very into Madonna?" Yoongi asks, trying to push the subject of his own cuteness to the
side before he blushes again.

Namjoon nods. "That's an understatement. He's into anything like that, when he was my roommate
he'd sing 80s power ballads every morning. I'm sure he still does it to Tae."

"From what you told me about him, this makes sense."

"I hope you'll get to meet him soon," Namjoon says eagerly. "Jiminie is going to love you."

Jiminie. Yoongi knows he's being stupid when he feels a little curl of jealousy at the nickname.
Yoongi is close to Seokjin and Hoseok, best friends forever, there's no reason he should be jealous.
And Jimin seems nice, Yoongi has talked to him a few times but…

Jimin is beautiful. Model handsome with golden blonde hair that looks much more natural than
Yoongi's cheap bleach jobs. A gorgeous smile, laughter like chiming bells, and a great job. He's so
hot and so successful and Yoongi barely feels human in comparison. And in pictures he's always
hanging off Namjoon, beaming like a star.

They're best friends, have been for years. Yoongi knows it's ridiculous to be jealous. Jimin is
dating Namjoon's other ridiculously hot best friend and maybe his other super hot friend. Yoongi's
not entirely sure of the specifics and he's not sure Namjoon is either. But Jimin is not single and
there's no reason to question intentions or fidelity.

Except … they used to date. Namjoon mentioned it in passing. They dated for over a year, almost
moved in together as a couple and then decided they made better friends. Yoongi never even
considered being friends with an ex, none of his breakups ended amicably. His last especially, he
feels like he’s always looking over his shoulder in Beacon Hill and Roxbury. But Namjoon and
Jimin are close and happy and completely normal. Yoongi just feels inadequate in comparison. If
Jimin is the type of guy Namjoon normally dates, he has no idea why Namjoon even took a second
look at him.

"Yoon?"

Yoongi looks up, finding Namjoon watching him in puzzlement. "Sorry?"

"Are you okay? You looked like you got lost there for a second."

Yoongi shifts in his chair. He's being an idiot and he knows it. Namjoon just drove a thousand
miles to meet him so they could spend just a few days together. Namjoon wants to be here with
him and he and Jimin are just friends. "I'm just tired I think," he says with a shrug.

"Me too, I didn't sleep well last night," he admits.

"Why?" Yoongi didn't really either, mostly due to his uncomfortable bed in the motel. But the
nervous energy about meeting Namjoon hadn't helped either.

Namjoon smiles and lifts his beer. "I was too excited to see you."

Oh. Yoongi feels warm all over. He has nothing to worry about, not when Namjoon is here with
him. "I was too," Yoongi agrees. "It still doesn't feel real that we're together."

"Do you want me to pinch you?" Namjoon asks. "I did say I wanted to see how ticklish you were
so…"

"No thank you," Yoongi says quickly, grinning when Namjoon threateningly wriggles the fingers
of his free hand. "I believe you."

Namjoon looks pleased. "We should toast."

"To what?" Yoongi asks, lifting his glass. "The Great American Eclipse of 2017?"

"No." Namjoon shakes his head, eyes sparkling. "To us. To the future."

The future is a scary concept right now, vast and unknown with no certainties. But if Namjoon will
be there, will be part of the future, no matter how far away he is, it's a future Yoongi wants. He
extends his glass, clinking against Namjoon's. "To us."

When they're back at the Airbnb a few hours later, both of them are visibly exhausted. Namjoon
yawns loudly as they walk in the door, stretching his arms over his head.
"I could use a shower. Is it okay if I take one?"

Yoongi has to bite his tongue to not suggest they shower together. "Sure, I'll take one after you."
He reaches for the sweatshirt tied around Namjoon's waist. "I'll try to get the sauce out of this."

"Thank you." There's a momentary pause, where Namjoon looks a little unsure, then he steps
closer. His hand comes up to Yoongi's hip and he dips down, connecting their lips. It's gentle and
soft, like the few kisses they've shared so far, but it lingers for a few seconds. When Namjoon pulls
back, smiling, his eyes are bright.

"I'll be quick."

Yoongi waves a hand, moving toward the kitchen. "Take your time." He takes a moment to lean
against the doorframe, catching his breath from the rush of warmth under his skin.

As soon as Namjoon is up the stairs, Yoongi dials Seokjin's number, propping the phone between
his shoulder and ear as he crouches down to peer beneath the sink.

"Well, well, well," Seokjin's voice comes over the line. "Look who came up for air long enough to
let his best friends know he's alive."

Other than a quick text saying he made it, Yoongi hasn't looked at his phone at all. He has
numerous missed text messages from his friends but they’ve been busy.

"I'm perfectly fine, I was busy."

"Busy or busy?"

Yoongi huffs, frowning as he grabs a bottle of dishwashing liquid. "Seokjin, we went grocery
shopping and to dinner."

"Lame," Seokjin declares.

There's a small scuffle on the other end of the phone and Seokjin's voice, slightly muffled,
sounding put out. Then Hoseok. "Hi honey bear, how's your boy?"

"I thought he was the bear," Yoongi jokes, straightening up again.

"You didn't like my metaphors, don't try to play with them now," Hoseok says, clearly pouting.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and switches the phone to his other ear. "He's good, he's - yeah he's good."

"I'm so glad," Hoseok breathes, sounding relieved. "And you - " There's a screech and then a
fumbling.

"He hasn't tried to touch you has he?" Seokjin is back. "Has he tried to kidnap you? Say chicken if
he has."

Yoongi turns on the sink, wetting the stained area of Namjoon's sweatshirt and squirting some
detergent on it. "Seokjin," he begins, sighing into the phone, "Namjoon is very sweet and he has
not hurt me or tried to kidnap me."

"Yet," Seokjin mumbles ominously.

In the background, Hoseok is whining about something. He comes back on the line a moment later.
"What Jinnie means is that we want to make sure everything is okay. He's who he said he was?"
"He is," Yoongi confirms. Namjoon is everything Yoongi imagined and more. "He's really
wonderful. We got dinner tonight, we're going to head to bed then explore the city tomorrow."

There's a moment of silence and Seokjin is hissing something in the background. "Seokjin wants to
know where you're sleeping."

Yoongi rubs at the fabric, working the soap into the stain and grabbing a dish cloth to scrub it with.
He can see the sauce lifting as he works, coming away from the faded red. "In the bed." He pauses,
running water over the stain to inspect it. "With Namjoon."

"And you're okay with that?" Hoseok asks.

Snorting, Yoongi turns off the sink, applying more soap to the sauce. "Yes, Hoseok. As I told you
before, Namjoon and I talked about it and we decided to share the bed. It doesn't mean anything is
going to happen." Even if Yoongi wants something to happen, he would never push or pressure
Namjoon. "I just - it'll be nice to sleep close to someone."

"My little baby loves cuddles doesn't he?" Hoseok coos, making Yoongi frown.

"You're horrible," Yoongi snaps, running the sweatshirt under the sink again. It's good as new, all
of the sauce gone. Namjoon's concern over the sweatshirt makes him feel good, that it's something
he treasures so much.

"Just admit it," Hoseok sing songs.

Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes as he blots the wet spot with a paper towel. "Yes, I love cuddles,
happy?"

Hoseok giggles. "Elated. We'll let you go, just be careful, yeah?"

"I will," Yoongi promises. "He's - Hoseok's he's -" he cuts off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Oh, Yoongi," Hoseok breathes. "I'm so happy for you. We're so happy for you. You deserve this,
okay?"

Yoongi nods before realizing Hoseok can't see. "Yeah, maybe I do."

"You do," Hoseok agrees. "Send us some pictures tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you guys," Yoongi echoes before hanging up. He stares down at the sweatshirt in his hands.
The shower has stopped running but Namjoon hasn't come downstairs yet. He glances toward the
entryway to the kitchen, Namjoon isn't there so...

Haltingly, nervously, he brings the sweatshirt up to his face. He buries the nose in the fabric,
closing his eyes as he inhales the fresh, clean scent. It's tainted a little by the barbecue they ate, the
lingering smell of the restaurant. But underneath is Namjoon, clean and crisp, a little woodsy, and
so soothing. Yoongi has never smelled anything so wonderful, so comforting. He sighs into the
fabric, burying his face a little deeper into the cotton and -

The sound of steps on the landing has him almost dropping the shirt into the sink. He swallows,
taking a deep breath as he lowers the sweatshirt onto the counter. Namjoon appears in the doorway
a moment later, smiling at him with damp hair.

"Shower's all yours," he says. His eyes fall on the sweatshirt. "Oh, did you -"
"Good as new," Yoongi announces, holding up the sweatshirt. He smiles as Namjoon grins.

Namjoon steps forward, peering at the shirt. "You're amazing," he murmurs, tilting to the side to
brush his lips over Yoongi's forehead and oh, that is... that is very nice. Yoongi would like that to
happen one or two or a million more times.

"It's nothing," he mumbles, feeling his face flushing again. "I'll be right back." Handing the
sweatshirt to Namjoon, Yoongi steps past him and scurries up the stairs, feeling ridiculous. Will he
ever be able to get that under control? Look at Namjoon without blushing? He hopes so. Though
the butterflies can stay, he likes the way those feel, zipping around his belly with every smile and
touch.

Yoongi is quick in the shower, washing off the day of travel and scrubbing himself clean. The
nerves are returning as he stands under the spray, truly ridiculous thoughts popping into his mind.
Like the fact that he's naked and Namjoon is right nearby. He could walk in and get in the shower
with him, or Yoongi could walk out there naked.

And they're about to share a bed. What if Yoongi sleep talks or snores loudly? He doesn't think he
does either of those things, but there's a first time for everything. Or he might kick in his sleep,
maybe drool all over the pillow. What if he wets the bed? He hasn't done that since he was five but
it could happen! Leaning his head against the shower wall, Yoongi suppresses a tiny scream. None
of those things are going to happen, he's just going to share a bed. He's shared beds with Hoseok
and Seokjin plenty of times.

But you didn't want to touch their penises, his mind helpfully supplies.

Forcing himself to stop thinking, Yoongi quickly rinses his body and turns off the water. He pulls
open the curtain, half expecting (hoping?) Namjoon to be there. But he's not, and Yoongi dries
himself quickly. He pulls on the briefs, t-shirt, and thin pajama pants he brought in with him and
towels off his hair in the mirror. After brushing his teeth and putting on deodorant and moisturizer,
he grabs his dirty clothes and opens the door.

Stepping into the bedroom, Yoongi pauses at the sight in front of him. Namjoon is in bed, sitting
up against the headboard. There's a book in his hands and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched
on his nose. He looks cute and soft, clearly tired, and is wearing a shirt with actual sleeves for once.

"Hey," Namjoon greets, smiling softly at him.

Yoongi steps forward into the room, setting his dirty clothes next to his suitcase on the floor, he
can organize tomorrow. "Hey." He stands awkwardly near the edge of the bed.

"Cool shirt," Namjoon says, nodding at the Turquoise Jeep t-shirt Yoongi is wearing. "Flynt Flossy
is my favorite rapper too."

Yoongi snorts, glancing down at his shirt. "They have some excellent songs."

"The lyricism is unmatched," Namjoon agrees. "I forgot to tell you," he continues, "I liked your
shirt earlier too. It looked familiar."

Smiling, Yoongi steps closer to the bed, nervously fiddling with the edge of the blankets. "It's one
of my favorites," he admits. Just like the sweatshirt he sent Namjoon, everything Namjoon sends to
him is cherished.
"I'm so glad, it looks good on you."

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi lifts the covers and slips under the blankets, lying down on his side
to face Namjoon across the bed. "Hoseok said the possum looks like me."

Namjoon snorts and sets his book on the nightstand, removing his glasses to fold them atop it.
"Well, possums are cute," he allows, "but you're much cuter." He turns off the light and shifts,
flattening his pillows, and lies down, facing Yoongi.

They're so close, so close but not touching. Yoongi can feel Namjoon's breath, just barely, across
his cheeks. Namjoon is watching him, soft smile on his face. His hand rests on the sheets between
them, so close. So close that Yoongi could just reach out. He does, taking the chance, he slides his
hand forward, linking their pinkies together.

A pause, a heartbeat, one breath, and then Namjoon is wrapping his other arm around Yoongi and
pulling him close. Yoongi doesn't resist, winding up with both of his hands pressed to Namjoon's
chest, their noses inches apart. Namjoon's chest is firm and Yoongi can feel the heat of his skin
through his shirt. Against his palm, Namjoon's heart beats a steady tattoo.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Namjoon whispers, searching Yoongi's face.

Yoongi swallows, licks his lips quickly. He nods, tiny, almost imperceptible, but Namjoon sees in
the near-dark. "Okay," he whispers back. And then the breath fans across his face again, closer,
warm, and then across his lips.

A gentle pressure, Namjoon's thick lips against his own. Yoongi responds immediately, fingers
curling in the front of Namjoon's shirt as he presses forward, needing more. Their lips slot together
as they begin to move, pouty lips meeting his again. It's soft at first, a warm slide as they map each
other's mouths, ease into the feeling. Yoongi feels his head spinning, almost unable to comprehend
that he is kissing Namjoon. They're lying in bed and Namjoon is holding him close, a hand pressed
to his lower back, kissing him.

It's so easy to lose himself in the feeling, to make the tiniest sound when Namjoon parts his lips.
Yoongi follows, feeling Namjoon's tongue brush against his, cautious, shy. Namjoon tastes like
mint toothpaste and sunshine. Yoongi doesn't know what sunshine tastes like but he's sure this is it.
It's perfection, the soft slide of their tongues, their lips moving together and Namjoon holding him
so close.

They break apart slowly, final lingering pecks as they pull back, eyes fluttering open to look at
each other again. Yoongi's lips tingle and he's warm down to the tips of his toes. Namjoon leans it,
brushes their noses together. Yoongi can feel his smile against his lips as Namjoon leaves one final
soft kiss against his parted lips.

"I love you," Namjoon whispers, warm palm pressing firmly into Yoongi's back.

Yoongi smiles back, letting his eyes close again. "I love you too," he whispers, contentment
washing through him.

Yoongi wakes up warm, almost uncomfortably so. It takes him a few seconds to realize where he is
and why he's so warm. But when he does, he melts.

He's in Nashville with Namjoon, he fell asleep to Namjoon whispering how much he loves him,
peppering his cheeks with kisses. He fell asleep and woke up and it was not a dream. He's here and
Namjoon is with him.

They shifted in the night and Yoongi now faces the other way, Namjoon pressed flush against his
back. Namjoon's arm lies across his waist, a warm palm splayed over his belly, a thumb under the
fabric of his t-shirt against his bare skin. Namjoon's face is pressed against his neck, nose in his
hair. Soft breath tickles his skin, making him want to squirm. But he doesn't, he stays still, melting
back into the mattress and Namjoon's embrace. His own hand curls around Namjoon's wrist,
holding him there, keeping him close.

How was he able to go without this for so long? Without Namjoon holding him close, wrapped
around him like an extra blanket? This is comfort and home, perfection. How will Yoongi go
without this again?

He doesn't mean to drift off again, but he must have. When he wakes some time later, it's to the
feeling of soft lips brushing the back of his neck. Namjoon's hand has slid fully under his shirt, a
warm palm resting against his bare skin. He hums, arching against Namjoon as he stretches.

"Morning," Yoongi murmurs, cuddling further into Namjoon's touch.

The lips brush his neck again, more firmly this time. "Good morning, baby."

Yoongi smiles into his pillow at the pet name. "How did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in months," Namjoon admits. "You?"

"Me too," Yoongi whispers. "I feel really good."

Namjoon smiles against the back of his neck, nuzzling into Yoongi's skin. "I know we should get
up, but can we stay here a little longer?"

"Yeah," Yoongi agrees immediately. There's no way he wants to move, wants to leave Namjoon's
embrace. "Please."

Namjoon pulls him closer, fingertips dimpling the soft skin of Yoongi's belly as he tangles their
legs together. "I never want to wake up without you," Namjoon rumbles, voice sleep-rough and
quiet again.

Yoongi would give almost anything to make that a reality, to never have to wake up without
Namjoon again. His stomach lurches a little at the thought, a small kernel of dread. With the
eclipse tomorrow, time already seems to be slipping away.

Nashville is nice, though hot and crowded. But that doesn't matter, not when Namjoon is walking
beside him, holding Yoongi's hand. Or when they're standing on a corner waiting to cross the street
and Namjoon has an arm draped casually over his shoulder.

They go out for breakfast, sitting in a booth smiling across the table at each other over heaping
plates of pancakes. Yoongi tries not to worry about the cost, not when he can watch Namjoon stuff
his cheeks with pancakes and listen to him talk about music in person. Syrup glistens on his lips,
one hand waving in the air as he talks shit about Morrissey. And Yoongi is fond, enraptured by the
man before him.

Namjoon pauses in his diatribe, blinking, when Yoongi hooks his foot around Namjoon's ankle
beneath the table. And Namjoon smiles, leaning forward to kiss Yoongi with sticky sweet lips.
"Was that your way of telling me you wanted me to stop lambasting Morrissey?" Namjoon teases.
He reaches across the table to take Yoongi's hand, squeezing his fingers.

"Absolutely not," Yoongi insists. "I'd never ask you to stop ripping apart a guy who would
definitely hate us on sight."

Namjoon snorts. "Maybe he'd appreciate the British accent I can do." Yoongi giggles and Namjoon
grins before continuing. "Whatever, he's a racist and an extremist."

"He is," Yoongi agrees. "And it makes me so mad because the Smiths have some truly beautiful
lyrics."

"Truly a tragedy," Namjoon sighs. "At least we still have Robert Smith."

Yoongi lifts his coffee mug, offering it in salute. "I'll drink to that."

Namjoon grins, imitating him. "Show me how you do it, and I'll promise you I'll run away with
you."

Heat rises to Yoongi's cheeks. "I love that song." A love song, Just Like Heaven, pure and sweet.

"I know you do," Namjoon murmurs, "and I love you."

It’s Yoongi's turn then, to lean across the table and steal a kiss.

They spend the entire day out, walking around and talking, talking more than Yoongi thinks he
ever has to someone else. Topics passes them by and Yoongi finds himself half doubled over in
laughter from Namjoon's cheesy jokes more than once. It’s easy to pretend that this is for forever
and not for just four days. Yoongi can push the queasy feeling in his stomach down, forget that
tomorrow is the second to last day, and just be in the moment. Namjoon makes it easy, with gentle
smiles and soft touches, to forget that time is against them.

They wind up at a near-empty bar after a quick greasy dinner, tucked in a corner with whiskey
shots and cold beers. The interior is dark, a speakeasy hidden down an alley that Namjoon had
read about, music playing and low lights. They can curl up in the corner at their little table on a
plush couch and let everything else fade into the background.

Namjoon's fingers are cool, slippery with condensation from his beer glass, when he brings them to
Yoongi's cheek. They lean in together, lips meeting in their quiet corner. Yoongi holds Namjoon's
hip with one hand, bracing himself on the couch with the other as he tries to get closer. Namjoon's
lips taste like whiskey, a sharp zing that has Yoongi's tongue darting out to taste more.

There's no hesitation, Namjoon parts his lips, his own tongue meeting Yoongi's. They move
together, lips sliding and tongues swirling as they lose themselves in each other. Namjoon's other
hand moves to Yoongi's waist, pulling Yoongi closer as he licks into his mouth. The kisses are still
tentative, still a little nervous, but there's heat there. Some of the softness is gone, hunger coming to
the surface as their heads tilt together.

Fisting his free hand in Namjoon's shirt, Yoongi tries to pull him closer, kiss him deeper. They're
pressed together, Yoongi nearly in Namjoon's lap. Fingertips slip beneath his shirt and Namjoon's
tongue is doing something that makes Yoongi want to scream. The light buzz of alcohol in his
veins has his mind narrowing down to one thing. Namjoon's mouth, Namjoon's lips and tongue.
Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.
Teeth nip at Yoongi's bottom lip, drawing a needy sound from his throat. Namjoon freezes,
releasing Yoongi's lip with a pop. He pulls back and they stare at each other, both of them panting
lightly. The present comes back to him, the realization that they're in public and Yoongi just
moaned is sobering.

"Do you want to leave?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi nods. "I want to," he whispers, not sure if he's talking about leaving.

"Are you okay to drive?"

Nodding again, Yoongi shifts on the couch, trying to adjust his pants. Namjoon's eyes trail down,
seeing the movement. "Baby," he purrs, "are you…"

"I just -" Yoongi cuts off, flushing. He feels ridiculous, like a horny teenager.

"Me too," Namjoon admits. Yoongi's eyes snap to Namjoon's lap, to the clear definition of his
bulge in his jeans. "Think we can get out of here without anyone noticing?"

"I don't care." Yoongi is surprised to realize he means it. The only thing he wants is to be kissing
Namjoon again. "We'll never see them again."

"True," Namjoon agrees. "I bet they're going to be so jealous though," Namjoon says, leaning in
with a smirk, his lips brushing Yoongi's ear. "When they see you're all mine."

Heat rushes through Yoongi's body and he holds in a whimper. He barely holds himself back from
climbing into Namjoon's lap, forcing himself to stand instead. "Yours," he confirms, voice rough as
Namjoon takes his hand, dragging him towards the door.

By the time they get back to the house, they've both cooled off. Yoongi feels a little ridiculous,
slightly embarrassed for getting so worked up in public. Once they're inside, they stand awkwardly
in the foyer until Yoongi clears his throat.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," he mumbles.

"Sure, I'm going to plug my phone in."

They walk up the stairs, splitting up on the landing. Closing the bathroom door behind him,
Yoongi leans against the wood, taking a deep breath. He isn't entirely sure where they stand now,
the buffer of having to drive home killed whatever mood there was. He's never been great at
flirting so he's not entirely sure how to get it back.

Moving to the sink, Yoongi splashes some water on his face. He knows he's over thinking this,
knows that it's not that big a deal. But he wants Namjoon, wants to kiss him and touch him. He's
okay if it doesn't happen, okay if Namjoon isn't ready. But he can't ignore the pull he feels toward
Namjoon, the way he wants to be close to him.

He feels like he's sixteen again, sneaking around to steal kisses with his first boyfriend. The
nervous tremor in his fingers and swooping in his stomach are so familiar. He's seen Namjoon
naked, they've gotten off together multiple times, but now that it can happen for real… It's a lot.

Namjoon would probably tell him it's normal. He's probably read an article about it. It's normal to
be nervous to be intimate with someone you've only interacted with through a screen. That doesn't
really make it any easier though.

Yoongi becomes aware, very suddenly, that he's been in the bathroom for a while. Namjoon is
probably wondering what he's doing. He needs to get a grip. Turning from the sink, he steps to the
door and pulls it open.

When he walks into the bedroom, Namjoon is sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands in his
lap. "Hey," Namjoon says softly.

"Hey," Yoongi echoes, hovering by the door.

Namjoon offers him a small smile and pats the bed beside him. "Come sit?"

Pushing away from the door, Yoongi crosses the space between them and sits beside Namjoon. He
doesn't try to put distance between them, and when he settles onto the mattress, their thighs brush.

"You good?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi nods, staring down at the floor between his feet. "Yeah, I'm - I'm just nervous."

"Me too," Namjoon confides. "It's a lot, right?"

Glancing up, Yoongi finds Namjoon smiling fondly at him. "I really like you."

"Well I hope so," Namjoon snorts. "We just drove a thousand miles each to see each other. I'd be
pretty upset if you decided we were enemies."

Yoongi laughs, unable to help himself. "It would be a pretty big let down right?"

"It would," Namjoon agrees, and leans in to kiss him. Warmth curls through him, lighting Yoongi
up from the inside out. Blooms unfurl in his chest, brilliant and beautiful as Namjoon kisses him
like he needs him to breathe. Like Yoongi is the only thing that is keeping him alive, his air after
diving down into the ocean.

He moves easily, allowing Namjoon to gently press him back into the bed. He pushes his legs onto
the mattress, falling against the pillows as Namjoon moves to hover over him. Yoongi feels caged
in, Namjoon's warmth blanketing him. It's heavenly, amazing to be so close. Their lips move
together, Namjoon's tongue pressing insistently into Yoongi's mouth.

"Can I take your shirt off?" Namjoon whispers against Yoongi's lips. His fingertips slip just barely
beneath the hem of Yoongi's shirt and Yoongi shivers at the contact.

"Yours too?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon pushes himself up, towering over Yoongi as he tugs his shirt off and - fuck. Namjoon is
so gorgeous, tan skin and firm, toned muscle. Yoongi wants to get his mouth on every inch of that
smooth skin.

"Okay?" Namjoon asks as his fingers nudge Yoongi's shirt up just a bit, revealing a strip of pale
stomach.

He almost wants to say no. He doesn't look like Namjoon. Yoongi is pale and thin and soft, he's not
toned muscle and golden skin. But Namjoon hasn't minded that before on video and Yoongi wants
this, wants Namjoon. He nods.

Namjoon slips his shirt up and Yoongi lifts up slightly so Namjoon can pull it over his head.
Namjoon stares down at him, eyes dark, lips slightly parted.

"I can't believe I thought you were pretty over a screen," Namjoon begins and Yoongi's heart falls,
does Namjoon think he - "You're so beautiful, baby. None of the pictures or videos did you
justice."

Oh. Well, that's different entirely. It makes Yoongi wants to curl in on himself and hide for a
completely different reason.

Gingerly, Namjoon trails his fingertips along Yoongi's skin, trailing over his ribs and his soft belly.
He drags them up, just barely brushing Yoongi's nipples and Yoongi gasps at the touch.
Goosebumps break out on his skin and he can feel a flush climbing his chest.

"So pretty for me," Namjoon purrs, "so pink."

The praise is going to make Yoongi scream. His dick is already achingly hard in his pants from a
little bit of touch and Namjoon calling him pretty. He'll combust if Namjoon doesn't stop.
Reaching out, he grabs Namjoon's wrists, Namjoon freezing immediately, eyes snapping to
Yoongi's face.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Yoongi croaks. "More than, just - kiss me?"

Namjoon doesn't answer verbally, just collapses back over Yoongi to crash their mouths together.
It's heated now, no soft, tender start, just lips and tongues, the slight clack of their teeth as they try
to find the best angle. Yoongi brings his hands up, hovering for just a moment before he tentatively
touches Namjoon's back. His skin is so warm, smooth and firm beneath his palms as he digs his
fingers into Namjoon's back to pull him closer.

Their chests press and Namjoon shifts, bringing their clothed hips together. They moan in unison,
panting into each other's mouths as Namjoon moves again, rolling his hips. As Namjoon grinds
down again, he brings up a hand to Yoongi's chest, brushing over his nipple. Yoongi cries out,
arching off the bed at the stimulation. The pads of Namjoon's fingers pinch his nipple as their hips
rut together and Yoongi is seeing stars.

"Fuck," Namjoon groans, breaking the kiss to lean their foreheads together. "I know we talked
about not having expectations, but I really want to touch you."

"Me too," Yoongi agrees immediately, searching Namjoon's face. "Actually I -" he bites his lip,
Namjoon's eyes flashing as he follows the movement. "I really wanna suck you off. Can I?"

"Yeah, fuck, of course. But - let's just -" he rolls off Yoongi, landing beside him and begins tugging
at Yoongi's jeans. "Just wanna..." he trails off, fingers fumbling with the zipper.

Yoongi can't help but giggle at how eager he is, the serious pinch to Namjoon's brow as he tugs at
his jeans. "Yours too, yours too," Yoongi laughs, his own hands moving to the front of Namjoon's
jeans.

It's uncoordinated, a fumbling mess of fingers and hands, and feet getting stuck in pants, but they
manage to get their jeans off. Before Yoongi can react, Namjoon grips the waistband of his briefs
and tugs them down his legs and - Yoongi is naked. Suddenly he is fully bare on this bed in front
of his boyfriend. Namjoon has seen him before, but not like this, not in front of him. Not when
Yoongi's hard, leaking cock is inches away from him.
Yoongi feels himself flushing from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. He tries to curl into
himself but Namjoon places a hand on his hip to stop him.

"Baby," Namjoon murmurs and Yoongi looks up, looking at Namjoon's face. He's staring at
Yoongi's body, eyes roving, seemingly unable to decide where to land. "Baby," he repeats, "you're
perfect." Namjoon stares at him like he's going to eat him.

Yoongi whines and he feels his cock twitch under Namjoon's gaze. Feeling like he needs to do
something, anything, Yoongi sits up and shoves at Namjoon's shoulder, pushing him onto his back.
Namjoon goes with a quiet oof, blinking up at Yoongi with hooded eyes. Namjoon's hands trail
along Yoongi's ribs as Yoongi moves to straddle his hips.

"Look at you," he murmurs, "my pretty baby. Can't believe I got so lucky."

Yoongi's body clenches at the words, cock dribbling precum that drips down to Namjoon's belly.
"Wanna taste you," Yoongi rasps, sliding down and between Namjoon's legs. Namjoon spreads
them immediately, giving Yoongi room to move.

His hands shake when Yoongi slips his fingers beneath the waistband of Namjoon's boxers, pulling
them down. His cock springs free, slapping up against his stomach. It's hard and leaking, bigger
than Yoongi's own and so thick. Yoongi thinks his own might be thicker, but the sheer size of
Namjoon's, and Namjoon in general, make it appear massive.

It's a pretty dick. And Yoongi knows how fucking weird that sounds. But it is. Even skin tone and
flushed tip, shiny with precum. Yoongi's mouth waters as he settles between Namjoon's legs, eager
to get it on his tongue.

Namjoon groans at the first touch of Yoongi's fingers. Yoongi wraps them around his base, feeling
the weight of Namjoon in his palm. His skin is almost feverishly hot, cock twitching in his grasp as
he slowly strokes from base to tip. He gathers the precum leaking from the head with his thumb,
using it to ease the slide. Namjoon lets out a shaky breath, his thighs tensing around Yoongi's
shoulders.

Yoongi gets a little mesmerized for a moment, lost in the way Namjoon's dark cock looks against
his pale hand, the pink knobs of his knuckles. The head disappearing and reappearing, shiny and
flushed, from his fist. He grinds his own cock into the mattress, desperate for friction.

"Have such a pretty mouth," Namjoon murmurs, bringing a hand to Yoongi's face. He thumbs at
Yoongi's bottom lip, tugging it down and watching it pop back up. He traces along the curve of his
lips, nudges at the seam until Yoongi opens. "Fuck," Namjoon huffs, sliding his thumb past
Yoongi's lips.

Yoongi closes his lips around it immediately, sucking at the digit and swirling his tongue around it.
The skin is sweet, slightly salty, tasting almost like sunlight on his tongue. Yoongi could probably
come just from this, from sucking on Namjoon's thumb as he ruts into the mattress. Namjoon
groans, pressing the pad of his finger against Yoongi's tongue before sliding in his index finger
alongside it. He strokes over Yoongi's tongue for a moment before pulling back, dragging his spit-
slicked fingers down Yoongi's chin.

"So pretty," he rasps.

And Yoongi can't wait any longer. He scoots forward and opens his mouth again, desperate for
more of Namjoon's skin. Yoongi starts with his tongue, leaving little kitten licks along the shaft as
Namjoon's thighs contract around his shoulders. He moves to the head, lapping at the flushed skin
and dipping into the slit to taste. Salty musk on his tongue, a hint of sweetness underneath. Yoongi
grinds into the bed again as he widens his mouth, fitting his lips over the head.

"Oh fuck," Namjoon moans as Yoongi suckles at the tip.

Namjoon is hot and heavy on his tongue, a warm weight that Yoongi wants more of. He takes his
time, suckling at the head and swirling his tongue over and around. When he presses his tongue
into Namjoon's frenulum, his boyfriend jumps, gasping. Yoongi wants to know everything that
makes Namjoon tick, wants to know exactly what makes him fall apart.

He sinks down slowly, going down an inch before pulling back and sinking down again, a little
further each time. There's no way he can take all of Namjoon, at least without practice. God, he
wants to practice. Yoongi moves his tongue as he bobs his head, tracing it along the underside of
Namjoon's dick as he moves up and down. He doesn't try to be neat, he's seen Namjoon jerk off
enough times to know he likes it wet and messy.

Yoongi lets saliva spill from the corners of his mouth, dripping down Namjoon's shaft. He pulls off
for a moment to slurp loudly at the head, causing Namjoon to groan at the ceiling. He licks along
the shaft again, long sweeps of his tongue, before sucking him down again. The taste of Namjoon's
precum is thick on his tongue, mixing with saliva to drip down Yoongi's chin onto the bed and
Namjoon's balls.

Namjoon is openly moaning, thighs clenching and trembling. Yoongi loves the sounds he's
making, the way it's clear he's falling apart. Namjoon's hand comes to rest in his hair, tangling in
the blonde locks. He doesn't tug them, doesn't try to push Yoongi's head down, seems to be just
grounding himself. It spurs Yoongi on, having him going faster, being messier. The sounds are
obscene, wet squelching and sucking sounds as he bobs his head, lapping at Namjoon's cock.

"Baby," Namjoon gasps, trembling beneath Yoongi's touch. "I'm gonna come."

Yoongi hums and Namjoon hiccups, thighs tightening around Yoongi's shoulders, caging him in.
Yoongi doesn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he likes how small Namjoon makes him
feel. His thick thighs around Yoongi's shoulders and head, his thick cock in his mouth. Yoongi
feels so small next to him and he doesn't hate it.

He pulls back just to suckle on the head, bringing up his hand to stroke the rest of Namjoon's cock.
Namjoon twitches in his grasp, cock throbbing. All it takes is a teasing curl of Yoongi's tongue
beneath the head of Namjoon's cock and he's coming.

Namjoon curses, fingers tightening in Yoongi's hair as his hips buck and he comes. Yoongi ruts
into the mattress as Namjoon's release coats his tongue. He swallows it down, eager for more as he
suckles to milk Namjoon dry. He laps at the head after, getting any last drops until Namjoon hisses
and pushes him away.

Yoongi sits up, cock throbbing between his legs as he licks his lips. Namjoon stares at him, bleary
eyes and trembling limbs, for a moment. Yoongi wonders what he must see, swollen lips and
slightly teary eyes. He snakes a hand between his legs to touch himself and Namjoon surges up.

"Come here, baby," he growls, grabbing Yoongi by his biceps and dragging him up his body.
Yoongi gasps in surprise as Namjoon pulls him up, protest drowned out when Namjoon smashes
their lips together. Namjoon immediately licks into his mouth, moaning as he tastes himself on
Yoongi's tongue. "Come here," he urges, breaking the kiss.

Yoongi doesn't understand at first, not sure what to do or what Namjoon wants. Namjoon is still
pulling at him so he goes a little boneless, lets Namjoon drag him up.

"Sit on my chest," Namjoon demands.

Yoongi goggles at him, trying to push himself up to do as Namjoon asks. "Why?"

"Wanna suck you off, come here, baby," he demands, clearly running out of patience. He seems a
little desperate, tugging at Yoongi until Yoongi is straddling his chest.

Yoongi scoots forward, feeling a little unsure. He gazes down, Namjoon is staring at his dick, eyes
dark and hooded. As Yoongi watches, he opens his lips and sticks out his tongue. Yoongi bites his
lip and lets Namjoon pull him forward by the thighs.

He groans, chin falling against his chest as his cock slides into Namjoon's mouth. "Not gonna last,"
he rasps. He's already so close to the edge, sucking Namjoon off and humping the bed got him so
close. The sounds Namjoon was making, the way he was almost begging for Yoongi were so
much.

Namjoon's hands slide to his ass, squeezing into his cheeks and pulling him even closer as
Namjoon swallows him down. Yoongi keens, Namjoon's fingertips dipping between his cheeks,
touching the most intimate parts of himself. Heat swirls through him, his toes curl. Namjoon is
moving Yoongi along his chest, arching his neck to bob his head to meet each thrust. Namjoon's
mouth feels amazing, his thick lips stretched taut around Yoongi's length, tongue dancing along the
underside of his cock.

Yoongi grips the headboard, rolling his hips in time with Namjoon’s hands pulling him forward.
His fingers are white knuckled, nails digging into the wood so hard his fingertips ache. From this
angle, Yoongi can look down into Namjoon's face, see how his eyelashes flutter on his cheeks, the
way his lips tighten, stretched taut and pink. It's a lot, it's so much, the visual and the sensations.
Yoongi can't believe this is all happening, that he's really here with Namjoon. It feels like an out of
body experience, maybe Yoongi is astral projecting.

But the hands on his ass are definitely real, tightening and dimpling his flesh. The fingertips
brushing over his rim are definitely not a dream. Yoongi can't stop himself from shaking, and it
feels like mere seconds before he's crying out again, throwing his head back as he comes into
Namjoon's mouth.

Namjoon swallows it down, lapping up Yoongi release eagerly, hands tight on his body until
Yoongi squirms, whining. Namjoon releases him and Yoongi allows himself to topple to the side,
curling up into a ball and groaning. He feels like his entire body is jelly, unable to move any
further. Namjoon rolls onto his side, curling up around him.

"You okay?" he murmurs, lips brushing Yoongi's ear.

"Very okay," Yoongi murmurs, burying his face in Namjoon's chest. "That was -" he doesn't know
how to describe it, "amazing." That doesn't entirely cover it, but it's all Yoongi has right now.

"It was," Namjoon agrees, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "You're perfect, baby," he
whispers.

“I’m not,” Yoongi mumbles, not lifting his face.

“You are,” Namjoon insists. “You're exactly who I thought you were. You're everything I hoped
for, kind and funny and smart. You're so sweet and amazing." Yoongi feels himself blushing,
smiling against Namjoon’s skin. "And so cute, so handsome. Yoongi you're -" he breaks off and
 Yoongi glances up, the look on Namjoon's face is earnest. "You're perfect."

"I'm not," Yoongi rasps, voice suddenly thick. He is so far from perfect it's not even funny. But
with the way Namjoon is looking at him… he can almost believe it. "You are though," he counters.
"You're more than I could have wished for in my wildest dreams."

Namjoon smiles and he shifts on the bed, bringing up a hand to cup Yoongi’s cheek. "You,
Yoongi, are my Seaway song. You are my something wonderful."

"You're so corny," Yoongi complains, but there's no force behind it. He's leaning in, leaning to
meet Namjoon and press their lips together.

“You like it,” Namjoon teases as the kiss breaks. He pulls Yoongi closer against his chest. “I love
you.”

Yoongi snuggles closer, nuzzling into Namjoon's neck and smiling against his skin. Nothing else
matters, nothing else except for Namjoon. Right now, this is all he needs. Everything else can fade
away, time and distance and dread in the background. Here, in his foreground, is Namjoon. "I love
you too," Yoongi whispers, pressing his palm against Namjoon's chest to feel the steady,
reassuring thrum of his heartbeat.

Chapter End Notes

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 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist Here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Yoongi tries to think, how long has it been since the last time he woke up in someone's arms?
Before this trip, it's probably been months. Over a year at least. So the feeling is almost
overwhelming, waking up in bed with Namjoon for the second morning in a row. Yoongi is curled
on Namjoon's chest, head resting on his shoulder, the steady thump of Namjoon’s heartbeat
beneath Yoongi's palm. For months this is all Yoongi wanted, all he craved. And to be here now...
he doesn't know how he'll go back to sleeping alone.

Yoongi shifts beneath the covers, hitching his leg more tightly over Namjoon's thighs and - oh.
They're still naked. The previous night rushes back to him, Namjoon's hands on his body,
Namjoon's mouth on his skin. He fights down a shiver and buries his face in Namjoon's neck,
hiding a smile.

Namjoon shifts, the arm he has curled around Yoongi's back tightens, crushing Yoongi closer to
his chest. Yoongi doesn't mind, just smiles more widely as Namjoon tilts his head to nuzzle his
nose into Yoongi's hair.

"Morning," he mumbles, voice deep with sleep.

Yoongi squeezes him tighter, hand curling around Namjoon's side. "Good morning."

"I could get used to this," Namjoon says softly, hand skating up and down Yoongi's back. His
fingertips on Yoongi's bare skin makes him shiver, goosebumps rising.

"Me too," Yoongi agrees. It's addicting, Namjoon’s touch and presence. "You're so warm."

Namjoon hums and cracks open his eyes, giving Yoongi a sleepy smile. "You're cold. Your feet
are like icicles."

Huffing, Yoongi wiggles his toes beneath Namjoon's calves, earning a groan as Namjoon's face
scrunches in displeasure. "You just need to warm me up."

"It's like a million degrees here and you're cold." Namjoon snorts, closing his eyes again and
resettling on the pillow. "I don't mind," he admits. "Just another reason to hold you."

"As if you need a reason," Yoongi teases. "You're like an octopus."

Namjoon's lips pull into a small smile but he still doesn't open his eyes again. "I don't see you
complaining," Namjoon responds. "Plus, you're the one clinging to me right now."

"Touché."

Namjoon's hand sweeps lower over Yoongi's skin, fingertips brushing the small of his back. "You
feel so good in my arms," he murmurs. "So small."
"I'm not small!" Yoongi argues, trying to pull away.

But Namjoon holds him fast, not allowing him to squirm away. His hand dips lower, cupping
Yoongi's ass and squeezing gently. "Mm, not small everywhere."

"Pervert," Yoongi snaps, but there's no heat behind it.

Namjoon laughs and scoops Yoongi up, tugging until Yoongi is laying atop his chest, nose to nose.
Opening his eyes again, Namjoon smiles at him. "I don't see you complaining about that either."

Yoongi doesn't respond verbally, just inches up a little more and tilts his head, connecting their
lips. Namjoon smiles into the kiss, wrapping one arm around Yoongi's back as the other continues
palming his ass. The kisses stay soft, mostly chaste, tender and sweet. It feels like sunlight, slow
and gentle like easy mornings. There's no rush, no need to be anywhere but here in Namjoon's
arms. Just Namjoon's plush lips against his, Namjoon holding him tightly, as if he's worried
Yoongi might disappear.

Threading his fingers through Namjoon's hair, Yoongi tilts his head to slot their lips more firmly
together. He doesn't try for much more, both of them with morning breath, but it's enough. More
than enough, to just be here together to touch and feel.

"I love you," Namjoon murmurs into the kiss, nudging their noses together.

Yoongi smiles, lips stretching into a grin. He ducks his head, burying his face in Namjoon's neck
again. "I love you too," he whispers, lips pressed to Namjoon's pulse point. "So much."

"So much," Namjoon echoes. "The most."

Nowhere but here, nothing but this matters. Yoongi could stay like this forever. He sighs, relaxing
into Namjoon's embrace, splayed across his body. Safe, comfortable, loved.

"I could go back to sleep," Yoongi mumbles. "I'm so -"

Yoongi's words are cut off by a loud rumble from Namjoon's stomach. Namjoon stiffens, the hand
rubbing circles into Yoongi's back freezes. "Um," Namjoon begins, voice shy. Yoongi breaks into
giggles.

“Hungry?”

Namjoon squeezes him tighter, rolling them over to cage Yoongi beneath him. "You could be my
breakfast."

That doesn't sound bad at all. The lines of Namjoon's body from this angle are breathtaking, curves
and edges of golden skin. He cages Yoongi in so easily, grinning down at him. Yoongi lifts his
arms, winding them around Namjoon's neck. He returns the smile, applying pressure to the back of
Namjoon's neck to pull him down. Namjoon lowers slowly, lips parted for a kiss and -

Namjoon's stomach rumbles again. Yoongi's arms fall away and he laughs, pressing at Namjoon's
chest to push him away. "Come on," he laughs, "I'll make us a real breakfast." Namjoon pouts at
him and Yoongi leans up to peck his lips. "Pancakes?"

"Pancakes?" Namjoon perks up, rolling off of Yoongi and sitting up on his knees. "With bananas?"

"Do I look like Jack Johnson?" Yoongi huffs, sitting up as well. He takes Namjoon in, sitting nude
with the sheets pooled in his lap. The sunlight through the window illuminates him in honey
warmth. His blonde hair is a mess, face puffy with sleep. But he's gorgeous, beautiful just like this,
smiling happily.

"Come on," Yoongi encourages. "I'll compromise with blueberries." He slides out of bed and
Namjoon is quick to follow, latching onto Yoongi's back and peppering the back of his neck with
kisses.

"Love you," he whispers.

Yoongi smiles, leaning back into the embrace. "You said that already."

"Don't care," Namjoon insists. "Gonna say it as much as I can while I have you."

While I have you. Because this isn't forever. It's just for right now. Yoongi pushes the thought
down, disentangling himself from Namjoon to reach for his underwear. "I love you too, now let's
get some food before your stomach wakes up the neighborhood."

"I'm really excited," Namjoon says from his perch on one of the kitchen stools. "I can't believe
we're going to see a real solar eclipse in a few hours!"

"As opposed to a fake one?"

"Yoon," Namjoon chides with a groan. Yoongi glances over his shoulder to see Namjoon rolling
his eyes. He's propped on his elbows on the counter in his red sweatshirt and a pair of boxer briefs.
Sleep soft and smiling, looking cuddlier than anyone should have a right to with thighs like that.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m excited too,” Yoongi says with a smile, seeing Namjoon grin at his words. “First
solar eclipse in a billion years and we’re seeing it together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “It’s not a billion years, you’re such a brat. Are you really excited? I’ve
been looking forward to this for over a year!”

“I am,” Yoongi confirms. “Especially since I’m seeing it with you.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon agrees. “I was pumped for the eclipse but now I get to watch the eclipse with
you. And I got to finally meet you.”

“It’s like some kind of super planetary alignment,” Yoongi teases.

“Not the planets, just the moon and sun,” Namjoon corrects, shifting on his stool. His thighs flex as
he moves and Yoongi’s eyes fall to the firm muscle.

“Oh well, pardon me then.” Yoongi turns back to the stove, tearing his gaze from Namjoon’s bare
thighs. "Do you want eggs too?" he asks as he flips a pancake.

"I'm alright," Namjoon responds. "Pancakes sound great. I can't remember the last time I had
homemade pancakes, I can't cook for shit."

"I remember," Yoongi says softly. They had tried a cooking date once, setting up their laptops in
their respective kitchens and making the same recipe. It was relatively simple, a pasta dish with a
homemade sauce. Yoongi's was delicious. Namjoon's looked like red paste and he somehow burnt
the pasta. He had been mortified but Yoongi had been helplessly endeared by his pink cheeks and
clumsy hands.
"I think the park we picked will be perfect," Namjoon continues. "There's a huge field without
obstructions and I bet it won't be too crowded."

Yoongi hums to show he's listening, transferring the pancakes from the pan onto a plate. He pours
more batter into the pan and moves to the kitchen island, setting down the platter. Before he can
move away, Namjoon catches the edge of his t-shirt, pursing his lips. Yoongi doesn't resist, let's
Namjoon pull him in and kiss him. Warm hands on his hips, soft lips against his.

"I thought you were hungry," Yoongi whispers against his lips. "There's still half a bowl of batter."

Namjoon leans back but doesn't let him go, thumbs rubbing against Yoongi's skin beneath his t-
shirt. "You just look very cute."

Yoongi snorts, gently extracting himself from Namjoon's embrace to return to the stove. "I doubt
that's true, I look like a mess when I wake up."

"Nuh uh," Namjoon argues. "I love you like this."

Yoongi ignores him, rolling his eyes. There's a scraping sound, the kitchen stool on the hardwood,
and then arms wrap around Yoongi's middle. Namjoon hooks his chin over Yoongi's shoulder,
pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Can I help?" Namjoon murmurs in his ear.

"We want pancakes, not hockey pucks," Yoongi teases.

Namjoon squeezes him harder. "Mean," he grumbles, nipping at Yoongi's neck. Yoongi tilts his
head, allowing Namjoon to run his nose along his neck, dust soft kisses against his skin.

"You're helping," Yoongi says softly. "This is nice."

So nice. Intimate, romantic even. Yoongi feels like he's in a romance movie, living the perfect
moments he's seen on a tv screen. Two main characters wrapped together, domestic and sweet. It's
been so easy to fall into that with Namjoon, to feel like they've known each other for years. It's not
hard to imagine a life like this, a future with Namjoon. But just like those movies, this fantasy will
end. Two hours for a movie, two more days for Yoongi and Namjoon. In two days Yoongi will
return to Boston and Namjoon will return to Colorado and this - this love they're building - will go
back to being contained in phone screens.

"You're burning the pancakes," Namjoon whispers, nudging Yoongi gently. "You okay?"

Yoongi startles, quickly flipping the pancakes to stave off most of the charring. They seem to be
alright. "Yeah, I just..." he trails off.

"What are you thinking about?"

He doesn't want to say, doesn't want it to be real. "I -" he licks his lips. "After the trip -"

"Don't think about it now," Namjoon interrupts. "Don't, baby, not now. I just want to enjoy this
with you," Namjoon whispers, curling around Yoongi more tightly. "Please?"

Yoongi wants that too, so badly. It's all he wants, to push everything else down and just think about
Namjoon, just be here. But everything else is still there, bubbling beneath the surface, every day
it's a little harder. The heaviness he wakes up with every day is greater, weighing him down. It's
easier not to think about it when he's with Namjoon, but sometimes it creeps back in and Yoongi
can't help but spiral a little.
Thoughts of returning home and having to figure everything out... having to find a new job, find a
way to pay his bills. The lies compounding, the little half-truths when Namjoon asks about Boston,
about his work. Like acid in his stomach, sour grapes on his tongue, unraveling, unraveling,
unraveling.

"Babe," Namjoon calls. "Yoongi, are you okay?"

"Sorry," Yoongi whispers. He shoves down the thoughts, takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I just -"
Not now. Later. Tomorrow. The next day. It doesn't matter, just not now. "I'm alright." He reaches
out and turns off the stove. "Come on, let's eat and you can tell me more about the fancy glasses
you got us."

They break apart and Namjoon eyes him warily for a moment. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah." Yoongi takes a deep breath, swallows everything else down. "I just want to be here with
you. Tell me about the glasses?"

Namjoon looks like he wants to press but he lets it go, sliding back onto his kitchen stool as
Yoongi takes the one beside him. Yoongi moves to pick up his fork but Namjoon grabs his hand,
curling their fingers together. "It's going to be okay," Namjoon says softly. "You and me, okay?"

"You and me," Yoongi repeats and then snorts, shaking his head. "What are we, Bonnie and
Clyde?"

"Maybe..." Namjoon smiles, the deep wells of his dimples on display. "Or Sid and Nancy?"

"Namjoon, didn't Sid -"

Namjoon's face falls. "Shit. Okay... Jay Z and Beyoncé." He pauses. "You're Beyoncé."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, shoving Namjoon with his elbow. "Eat your damn pancakes."

The panic and sadness slip away, sinking back into the darkness as Namjoon talks. They eat
quickly and Namjoon washes the dishes after, monologuing about totality and solar positioning.
Yoongi watches him from the counter, fond and sated, eyes on Namjoon's broad back in the
sweatshirt Yoongi gifted him.

"I need a shower," Yoongi announces when they're back upstairs in the bedroom. Yoongi is
kneeling next to his suitcase, searching for clothes. His fingers brush the little pouch at the side and
he shoves a pair of underwear over it, clearing his throat. "Do you want to..." he trails off and
glances at Namjoon.

Namjoon is on the edge of the bed, tapping at his phone screen. He looks up at Yoongi's words,
blinking. "Do I want to..." His eyes widen. "Are you asking if I want to shower with you?"

Heat rises to Yoongi's cheeks. He shouldn't be so shy. Namjoon saw all of him the night before,
touched and kissed most of his body. There's nothing to hide, only more to discover.

"Are you shy now?" Namjoon teases. "After you sucked my soul out through my dick last night
you're going to be shy?"

Yoongi laughs and pushes himself to his feet. "Shut up and come on then."
He's halfway across the hall to the bathroom when arms wrap around him again, hands slipping
beneath his shirt. Lips attach to his neck and they stumble to the bathroom together. Yoongi starts
the shower while Namjoon wrestles himself out of his sweatshirt. Then Namjoon's hands are on
him again, pulling his sweatshirt over his head and tugging his shorts and briefs off. He does the
same for Namjoon, tugging down his underwear until they're bare.

"Fuck," Namjoon mutters, holding Yoongi at arm's length to look at him. Yoongi tries not to shrink
under his gaze, cock hardening between his legs as Namjoon's hands squeeze into his hips. "You're
so sexy," Namjoon nearly growls.

"You're -" Yoongi doesn't get to finish his thought, Namjoon leans forward, capturing his lips
before he can get another word out.

Their mouths crash together, lips meeting in a hungry kiss. Namjoon's plush lips drag against his
own as he steps forward, backing Yoongi into the shower and against the tiled wall. He hisses at
the cold, lips parting on a gasp at the feeling of the cool tile against his back. The shyness fades,
nervousness slipping away down the drain with the water. Replaced with want, with need.

Namjoon doesn't waste the opportunity, sliding his tongue into Yoongi's mouth. He presses their
bodies flush together, arms wrapping around Yoongi's waist. Yoongi winds his arms around
Namjoon's neck, shifting to press their hips together. The water cascades over them, heating
Yoongi's skin as Namjoon heats him from the inside out. A thigh slides between Yoongi's legs,
Namjoon pressing into him as Yoongi moans into his mouth.

He can lose himself like this, forget everything but the curve of Namjoon's lips, the strength in his
hands as he cups Yoongi's ass with his palms.

"Turn around," Namjoon rasps when the kiss breaks. His voice is rough and his eyes are dark,
pupils blown wide.

Yoongi doesn't ask why, just turns around, pressing his palms against the wall as Namjoon cages
him in. Namjoon is against his back, their slick skin sliding together. One hand grips his ass,
pulling his cheek to the side and Yoongi shivers. Exposed, Namjoon seeing his most intimate
places. It's not like Namjoon hasn't seen them before, he's seen Yoongi with fingers and dildos
inside him, whispering what he wanted Yoongi to do. But not in person, always through a digital
screen.

"Pretty," Namjoon says softly, thumb brushing over Yoongi's hole. Yoongi tenses, breath hitching
as the pad of Namjoon's finger applies gentle pressure.

"Joon," Yoongi whines, toes curling against the tile of the floor.

Namjoon's thumb pulls away. "Sorry," he whispers, leaning in to nip at the shell of Yoongi's ear.
"Just wanted to see you." He shifts and his cock, hard and wet, slips between Yoongi's ass cheeks.
"This okay?" he asks, rutting against Yoongi's skin.

Namjoon's hands disappear and Yoongi hears the click of a bottle. He glances over his shoulder to
see Namjoon pouring body wash onto his palm. Then the hand is between his cheeks again,
slicking up Yoongi's skin. Hands grip his hips and Namjoon presses forward again, nestling his
dick back between Yoongi's cheeks.

Yoongi can't help but arch against him, his back pressed to Namjoon's wet chest. He's so warm, so
broad and strong, arms snaking around Yoongi's body.
"This okay?" Namjoon repeats when Yoongi doesn't respond. "Just wanna -"

"Yeah," Yoongi interrupts, letting his head fall against Namjoon's shoulder. "Feels good."

Namjoon's arms around him, Namjoon's body against his, pressing him hard into the shower wall.
Caged and trapped, but Yoongi doesn't want to be anywhere else. One of Namjoon's hands slides
up his chest, pads of his fingers brushing one of Yoongi's nipples. He gasps, pressing back more
firmly into Namjoon's embrace.

"Fuck," Namjoon growls, beginning to roll his hips to rub his cock against Yoongi's ass. "You're
so..." he trails off, something Yoongi has become used to. Namjoon's inability to tell Yoongi
exactly what he is. Too much for words, Namjoon had said once.

Yoongi's cock is hard between his legs and he moans when Namjoon's other hand slides down his
stomach to fist it. Namjoon's long fingers wrap around him and squeeze, beginning to stroke
slowly.

So much at once. Namjoon's hands on his body, stroking his cock and pinching his nipple.
Namjoon grinding against him, hard cock slipping easily between his cheeks with the help of the
soap. Yoongi presses his thighs together, flexing his glutes to squeeze Namjoon's cock. A curse,
huffed and rough, falls from Namjoon's lips at the feeling. His hips buck forward and Yoongi's
pressed more firmly against the shower wall, only Namjoon's hand separating his chest from the
tile.

Lips latch onto his neck, a tongue tracing over his pulse point. Yoongi lets his head loll to the side
as Namjoon nips and sucks at his skin, open mouthed kisses decorating his wet skin. Namjoon's
hand speeds up on Yoongi's cock, stroking him quickly, wrist flicking at the head and thumb
sliding over his slit. Yoongi whines high in his throat, hands sliding along the wall. Namjoon's hips
speed up as well, chasing pleasure as he rolls and grinds.

He wants to beg Namjoon to fuck him, split him open right now. Those elegant fingers slipping
inside of him, stretching him to take Namjoon's big cock. Maybe Namjoon could hold him against
the wall, lap at Yoongi's collarbone as he fucked him stupid. They still haven't talked about it,
having sex. Obviously they've had sex, but full penetrative sex... fuck. It's all Yoongi wants right
now.

Namjoon's teeth nip at his shoulder and his fingers do something against Yoongi's chest and
Yoongi is crying out. "Namjoon," he croaks, voice too high, too broken.

"Gonna come," Namjoon rasps. "Come with me, baby."

It only takes a few more strokes of Namjoon's hand before Yoongi is spilling onto the wall, breath
rushing from him with a loud moan. Namjoon pulls back and Yoongi looks over his shoulder,
watching Namjoon take himself in hand. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he strokes himself,
eyes fixed on the curve of Yoongi's ass.

"Fuck," Namjoon grits out, hips jerking, and then he's coming, streaks of white painting Yoongi's
skin. It's washed away almost immediately, the water from the shower taking away the sticky
streaks of cum.

Namjoon slumps, draping himself over Yoongi's back, forehead pressed to his shoulder. Yoongi
can feel Namjoon's heartbeat, loud and fast, through his back. It's comforting, has him melting
against Namjoon.
"Sorry," Namjoon mumbles against his shoulder. "I should have asked before I came all over you."

Yoongi snorts. "It's fine." He pushes away from the wall and turns, draping his arms around
Namjoon's waist. "It was hot."

"Felt good?" Namjoon prompts, pulling Yoongi closer. They both hiss, shifting their hips back as
their oversensitive cocks brush.

"Really good," Yoongi agrees. "I want to -" he breaks off, unsure how to say it. "I want more. If
you're ready."

Namjoon nods and presses their foreheads together. "I'm ready. We can talk about it later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Yoongi agrees, smiling at Namjoon's earnest expression. They stare at each other for a few
seconds, eyes soft.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak but it's cut off by a shriek. He curls around Yoongi, tugging
them both out of the spray of the now-cold water. "Guess we took too long," Namjoon huffs,
crowding them into the corner. "Quick, turn around and I'll shampoo your hair."

Yoongi obeys and they take turns jumping beneath the cold water to wash themselves clean. They
huddle in each other's arms between dips into the cold, rubbing soap over each other's bodies. By
the time they're both relatively clean, their teeth are chattering and they're both trembling.

"Can't believe we're going to get hypothermia in August. It's over ninety degrees out," Namjoon
grumbles as they wrap themselves in as many towels as they can find.

Yoongi laughs, lifting his arms to scrub at Namjoon's dripping hair with a towel. "Worth it," he
insists, leaning in to kiss Namjoon's cold lips.

"Do you want anything else?" Yoongi asks, pulling lunch meat and condiments out of the fridge.

Namjoon looks up from his place at the kitchen island. Yoongi's guitar is on his knee, brow
furrowed as he tries to tune it. "Just no tuna."

"We didn't even buy tuna," Yoongi huffs, rolling his eyes. "Ham?"

Namjoon hums in agreement, hitching Yoongi's guitar further onto his lap. "I'm not as good at this
as you," he says softly, frowning down at the instrument.

"You play guitar fine," Yoongi insists, laying out slices of bread. "But drums are your strength."

"I'd like to see you play the drums," Namjoon muses absently, "bet it would be hot."

"You could teach me," Yoongi suggests. But it's an empty promise, how would Namjoon teach
him? Through video calls and computer screens? Yoongi doesn't have a drum set, doesn't have
drumsticks. "Or something," he adds after a pause.

Namjoon doesn't respond, attention back on the guitar, and Yoongi begins assembling sandwiches.
He glances up when Namjoon strums a chord. "Are you going to play for me?"

"I've been practicing," Namjoon says shyly. "There's -" he pauses, adjusting his fingers on the
frets. "I was learning one song that I wanted to play for you."
Yoongi tilts his head, cocking a hip against the counter to watch Namjoon fiddle with the frets
again. "Oh?"

"West," Namjoon says simply, and begins to play.

Yoongi knows the song immediately as Namjoon strums the simple chords. He doesn't try to sing
along, but he begins to hum where the lyrics should start. The sound, husky and deep, resonates in
his chest, making Yoongi shiver. Yoongi has never heard him sing before, isn't expecting it when
Namjoon sings along to the chorus. Voice soft, hesitant, breathy. Perfect.

He's transfixed, eyes locked on Namjoon as he sings, staring down at the guitar " Sometimes our
compass breaks, and our steady true North fades," low and deep, Yoongi feels clammy all over.
He squeezes the butter knife in his hand, unable to look away. Namjoon looks up, meeting his eyes
as he adds the next words. "We'll be just fine."

Something in Yoongi's chest aches, a brittle, fragile thing throbbing behind his ribs. He swallows
hard, tries to force the feeling down. When Namjoon says it, sings it like this, maybe Yoongi can
believe it. He can believe that everything will be fine and maybe, some day in the future, there
won't be miles and miles between them, only inches.

He doesn't move until the song ends and Namjoon looks up at him again. "I'm not very good yet,"
Namjoon mumbles, looking nervous.

"No," Yoongi croaks, "you're good." Namjoon is good, so good. Kind and generous and full of
love. He is good and Yoongi, with his white lies and intrusive thoughts, does not deserve him.

There's quiet between them for a few seconds, maybe minutes, until Namjoon gingerly gets up,
leaning the guitar against the cabinets. "I should have played something more fun."

"You're fine," Yoongi murmurs, forcing himself to turn back to the sandwiches. "That was
beautiful."

"I think of you when I hear it," Namjoon says softly, coming up beside him to slip the sandwiches
into plastic bags as Yoongi assembles him. "I know it sounds kind of sad, but it's hopeful right?"

"It is," Yoongi confirms. "A happy ending."

Namjoon nudges him with a hip. "We definitely get one of those." A pause. "Actually, you already
did."

Yoongi laughs, a surprised bark that has him bending over the counter as he giggles. "You're
ridiculous," he laughs, worries melting away, Namjoon soothing him in only the way he can. "I
better get more."

"Absolutely Mr. Min," Namjoon declares. "Many more."

A happy ending with no distance, no countdown to when Namjoon will no longer be beside him.

They drive into the city and walk around for a while, gazing into shop windows and strolling along
the streets. It's busy, everything is packed and people are everywhere. Yoongi should probably be
used to the press and bustle of a city by now, but it's still never easy. Namjoon keeps a firm hold on
Yoongi's hand, anchoring him with a thumb rubbing over his knuckles. It's not so bad, the crowds
and noise, when Namjoon is with him.
The way their palms fit together, fingers interlaced, feels so natural. Yoongi glances up as they wait
at a street corner. Namjoon is staring straight ahead, a soft smile on his lips. He blinks and glances
down, catching Yoongi watching him. His fingers squeeze Yoongi's and he ducks his head,
brushing his lips over Yoongi's temple.

"It's just around this corner," Namjoon announces later when they're back in the car. He's pointing
ahead of them, directing Yoongi to the right at the next light. "There's a parking lot and then we
should be all set."

“I don’t know why you couldn’t just tell me where we were going,” Yoongi complains, flicking on
his blinker at the stoplight.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Namjoon says happily. “Perfect picnic date spot for a perfect eclipse
for my perfect boyfriend.”

A blush colors Yoongi’s cheeks at Namjoon’s words and he bites his lip, keeping his eyes fixed on
the road as he makes the turn. The parking lot materializes as soon as they round the corner and
Yoongi pulls into a spot. "This does look perfect," Yoongi says, gazing around at the park before
them. It is, as Namjoon predicted, mostly empty. A wide grassy field dotted with a few groups, but
plenty of space and open views.

"You ready for this?" Namjoon asks, grinning at him from the passenger seat.

The words are lighthearted, excited, innocent. But they thrum through Yoongi's bones. Is he ready?
Ready for what?

He opens his mouth to respond, but Namjoon is already sliding out of the car, bouncing on the
balls of his feet in excitement. Instead there's a queasy feeling low in his belly. Something twisting
and ugly at the thought that this trip is already half over, that tomorrow is their last day together.
The eclipse, the whole reason for this trip, is just another moment of time moving too quickly.

A tap on his window has Yoongi jolting in his seat. He blinks, snapping his head to the side to find
Namjoon watching him. The door is pulled open and Yoongi fumbles with his seat belt.

"Come on," Namjoon encourages, extending a hand to pull Yoongi from the car.

He accepts it, Namjoon's hand clasping his own. Some of the unpleasant buzz beneath his skin
dissipates at the contact, and he allows Namjoon to pull him from his thoughts and from the car.

They walk hand in hand along the grass as Namjoon mutters to himself about finding the perfect
spot. The cooler swings from the fingers of Yoongi's other hand, a folded blanket tucked beneath
his arm.

"Right here," Namjoon declares, cooking to an abrupt halt. "This is the perfect spot."

Yoongi sets the cooler down and begins unfolding the blanket. "How long do we have?"

Namjoon helps Yoongi lay out the blanket then checks his watch. "Twenty minutes or so." He
sinks onto the blanket, crossing his legs to make room for Yoongi to join him.

Yoongi’s used to picnics, but this one feels different. Seokjin and Hoseok seem to have an
obsession with spending afternoons on the river. So on his weekend days off, Yoongi often finds
himself dragged to the Esplanade by the Charles River, begging to sit in a shady spot. The
sandwiches Yoongi packed for today are nothing compared to what Seokjin usually supplies.
Elaborate cheese boards and finger sandwiches, melon balls and perfectly sliced vegetables. It
always feels a little unnatural, like Yoongi is pretending to be someone he isn't.

The cooler today has simple food, sandwiches and apples, a bag of chips to share. But this feels
better. None of the fanciness is necessary when it's just the two of them. Listening to Namjoon
ramble about going to space camp as a kid around a mouthful of ham and cheese is much better
than watching Hoseok and Seokjin feed each other grapes.

"Did you go to camp?" Namjoon asks as he finishes his story. "I did space camp almost every
year. Sometimes a music camp or other ones, I loved it."

Yoongi shifts on the blanket, taking his time chewing his sandwich. "No, uh, I never really wanted
to."

A lie. Yoongi would have killed to go to a summer camp, even just for a few days. To get out of
the crush of the city and the cramped apartment his family lived in. But they couldn't afford it, not
a luxury like that. So Yoongi spent his summers at the shitty community center or working odd
jobs to afford his first guitar.

"I bet you would have liked the music camp I went to," Namjoon continues. "It was really cool and
we'd put on a concert every year."

"Like Camp Rock?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon snorts, rolling his eyes. "Yes, Yoongi, I went to camp with the Jonas Brothers." He
shakes his head. "It was really cool. Did they not have any near you?"

Yoongi had begged one year, desperate for the camp at the aquarium. But it never worked out. No
money, no time. "Nah," he says casually. "It wasn't really something my family looked into."

Thankfully, Namjoon drops the subject there. Yoongi doesn't want to get into it, not now. He's
already feeling a little weird, his hands trembling a little, skin clammy. He needs to get a grip.

"Oh," Namjoon begins after finishing his sandwich. "The glasses!" Yoongi watches him dig in his
bag, pulling out what looks like movie theatre 3D glasses.

"You're sure I can look at the sun with these?" Yoongi asks as he accepts a pair. They don't look
like anything special, some flimsy paper and plastic. "I can't just use sunglasses?"

"Absolutely not," Namjoon huffs. "Do you want to be blind?" He puts the glasses on, tipping back
his head to stare at the sun. "I tested them." He pauses. "Actually I made Jungkook test them, but
he's basically superhuman so I figured he'd be fine." After a few seconds he looks back at Yoongi,
smiling. "All good."

Yoongi mimics him, sliding on the glasses and looking at the sun. It's strangely thrilling, staring
straight at the sun without consequence. "Okay," Yoongi says finally, still studying the sky. "I
believe you."

He looks back down when he feels fingers on the back of his hand. Namjoon's fingers curling
around his, tapping until Yoongi flips his hand. "It'll start soon," Namjoon begins. "Want to lay
down?"

"Sure." Yoongi clears up the remnants of their lunch and shoves them into the cooler, pushing it
off to the side.

They lie side by side on the blanket, hands tangled between them. Namjoon shifts until they're
pressed together, the warmth of Namjoon's thigh is palpable even through Yoongi's jeans.

"Why don't you ever wear shorts?" Namjoon asks, nudging Yoongi's leg with their interlocked
hands.

Yoongi shrugs as well as he can from his position on his back. "I'm more comfortable in jeans."

"Hm," Namjoon muses. "Don't want to blind anyone with how pale they are?"

"Hey!" Yoongi squawks, slapping at Namjoon's chest with his free hand. "They're not that bad."

They are. According to Hoseok, they're like two glue sticks. And they're slim, skinny no matter
how much he walks around the city. He's always been more comfortable in jeans when he's out.

"I like your legs," Namjoon says softly, rubbing his thumb along the seam of Yoongi's jeans. "I'd
like you showing them off more." Namjoon smiles at him. "Though I might not be able to keep my
hands off them."

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head and refocusing his gaze on the sky. "I really didn't realize what
a pervert you are."

"I'm not a pervert," Namjoon complains. "You're just very hot and I am a healthy young man."

"Are you trying to justify being horny all the time?"

"Can't help it," Namjoon sniffs, "my boyfriend is too hot."

Yoongi smiles at that, some of the weird feelings in his stomach melting away again. He loves the
way Namjoon says it, how casually he calls Yoongi his boyfriend. It's simple, but it feels like so
much.

"Oh shit," Namjoon gasps, squeezing Yoongi's hand. "It's starting."

It is, the edge of the moon just beginning to obscure the sun. It's a little disorienting, watching this
happen, seeing how the sun begins to disappear. The sky darkens as they watch, Namjoon gasping
and squeezing Yoongi's hand tighter.

The moment feels charged, final, overwhelming in the worst way. This is the culmination of his
trip to Nashville, the big event they met for. He is here with Namjoon for the first time, after what
feels like years of time alone. Yoongi is finally with the man he loves, witnessing a once in a
lifetime event, and his life is falling apart.

In less than forty-eight hours they will have to say goodbye. They will move in reverse, carrying
Yoongi's bags down the stairs instead of up. Namjoon will hug him on the porch, squeezing him as
Yoongi tries not to cry. But this time it will be goodbye, not hello.

In forty-eight hours Yoongi will be in his car on his way back to Boston and nothing. What does he
even have to go back to? Very little. His friends, his shitty little apartment, the cactus on his
windowsill.

And for how long does he even have that? With no job to return to, there's no way to pay his bills.
He's blown most of his savings on this trip, there's no windfall waiting for him. No job also means
no health insurance and he'll run out of his antidepressants in less than a month. The idea of
functioning without them at this point is laughable.
Yoongi will return to Boston, to his empty apartment and lonely nights. He will leave Namjoon
and wait another however many months to see him. An eternity. They will go back to screens that
will never feel like enough. Especially now that he's had the real thing, seen the real Namjoon, felt
and tasted him, heard his voice.

The sky darkens as the moon fully covers the sun and Yoongi realizes he's crying. He's not sure
when it started, silent tears tracing down his cheeks as he begins to tremble. He can't do this. How
can he do this? A whimper slips past his lips and he feels Namjoon shift beside him.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon shifts again, must look at him. "Are you crying?" He sits up, hovering over
Yoongi and cupping his cheek with one hand. "Baby," he soothes, "baby what's wrong?"

And Yoongi breaks, he crumbles as Namjoon pulls him against his chest. Strong arms wrap around
him and Namjoon buries his face in Yoongi's hair, whispering soothing words. "I'm right here," he
whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

But he is. Namjoon is going back to Colorado, thousands of miles away. "I can't do this," he
chokes. "I can't -" he breaks off, choking on a sob. Everything he's been holding in feels like it's
spilling out of him. The lies he's told, the half-truths so Namjoon wouldn't worry, burn at the back
of his throat.

"I lied to you," Yoongi gasps. "I'm sorry, I just - I didn't want you to cancel the trip." He curls his
fingers in Namjoon's t-shirt, afraid to let go. "I quit my job, they wouldn't let me have the time after
I got sick. I couldn't - I couldn't give this up. I had to see you."

"Baby," Namjoon whispers, "we could have waited."

"No," Yoongi insists. "Maybe you, but not me. Not me," he repeats. "Not when I have nothing and
all I want is you. I don't want to lose you." He takes a shaky breath. "You're so good, so amazing
and warm and I'm - I'm this."

"You're amazing too," Namjoon counters. "You're strong and smart and wonderful. And you can -"

"I can't," Yoongi interrupts. "I feel so empty without you, like I can't breathe. I can't do this again,
can't try to pretend I'm okay when I'm not. And now I don't have a job, I can't afford rent after
September and I -" his voice cracks and he breaks off on another sob.

Namjoon’s hand rubs soft circles into his back. “Yoongi, I’m not going to pretend it’s okay that
you quit your job for this, and maybe I don't entirely understand that.” A pause. “But I don’t know
why you wouldn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry or postpone the trip,” Yoongi says softly. "And now I don't want this to
end, I just want to be happy. I just want to be with you."

"You are," Namjoon whispers. "You can."

"No," Yoongi argues, fresh tears spilling from his eyes and soaking Namjoon’s shirt. "I was so
unhappy before I met you and I can't go back to that. I don't want to lose this, Namjoon. I have
nothing to go back to, I'll be sleeping on my friends' couch in a month because I barely have
enough money to get home." Yoongi lets out a watery laugh. "And I told you it was fine, I tell you
everything is okay and good but it's not, it never is. But I don't want you to think I'm broken and -"

"You're not broken," Namjoon cuts in. He pulls back a bit, tilting Yoongi's chin up so he can see
his face. Namjoon thumbs at the tear tracks on Yoongi's cheeks, his eyes are so soft and sad. "Why
didn't you tell me? We’re supposed to be partners, Yoongi, I tell you everything. Why would you
hide all of this from me?” The hurt is clear in Namjoon’s voice and it makes Yoongi feel like even
more of a monster. “I could have helped you, given you support. Why didn’t you tell me the
truth?”

The words sting. He should have told Namjoon, shouldn't have lied. But he never wanted Namjoon
to worry. It was easier to pretend and brush things under the rug, half-truths that made things seem
okay, kept Namjoon from running away. "I couldn't. I'm just - I don't want to be so lonely again."

There's a moment of silence, Namjoon studying his face. Yoongi can tell Namjoon wants to say
more, that this conversation itself isn’t over. Yoongi braces himself, but Namjoon surprises him.
"You don't have to be," he says finally. "Not anymore."

Yoongi shakes his head. "Tomorrow is our last day," he insists. "After that we leave and say
goodbye."

"What if we didn't?"

"What?"

"What if we didn't?" Namjoon repeats. "What if you came with me? Moved to Colorado with me?"

Yoongi stares at him, uncomprehending. "What? I can't just -"

"You said you don't have anything back in Boston. It's just Hoseok and Seokjin." He licks his lips,
thumb brushing Yoongi's cheekbone. "Come to Colorado with me, move in with me. I don’t want
to leave you either, I’ll help you get back on your feet."

It's not that easy. It can't be that easy. Yoongi has a life in Boston - doesn't he? Maybe he did. But
all that's there now are his friends, his friends who have their own life together that Yoongi fits into
like an odd third wheel. "You don't want that," Yoongi whispers.

"I want it more than anything. Let me help you, please," Namjoon pleads. "For once just let me
help you."

"You're serious?" Yoongi challenges.

Namjoon's gaze is pointed, there's no wavering, no uncertainty. "I've never been more serious
about anything."

Yoongi kisses him, surging forward to lock their lips together. Namjoon holds him close, both
arms wrapping around Yoongi to cradle him against his chest. Their lips meet in a salty, tear-
soaked press as the moon moves across the sky and the sunlight peeks through once more.

Yoongi barely remembers the ride back to the house, Namjoon driving them as Yoongi huddled in
on himself in the passenger's seat. Namjoon didn't let go of his hand the entire drive, talking quietly
as he drove, breathing promises and entreaties.

They don’t waste time once they’re back at the Airbnb, Namjoon pulling an unresisting Yoongi
upstairs into the bedroom. He’s gentle as he sits Yoongi on the edge of the bed, crouching in front
of him to cup his cheeks and look into his eyes.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers.

Yoongi swallows hard, sniffling. He feels ridiculous and childish, unable to stop crying. “Don’t
leave me,” he whispers, voice a broken rasp.

“I won’t,” Namjoon promises, leaning forward. “You’re stuck with me now, Yoongi. You can’t
get rid of me.”

“Don’t wanna get rid of you,” Yoongi mumbles. He lifts an arm, curling his fingers around
Namjoon’s wrist. “I’m sorry I’m so…” he trails off. So what? Sad, pathetic, so much.

Namjoon smiles softly, his eyes looking a little glassy. “You don’t have to be sorry.” He shuffles
closer, until they’re just inches apart. “Let me take care of you?”

Slowly, Yoongi nods. “Okay,” he whispers. “I –“ he breaks off, studying Namjoon’s face. A face
he’s come to know so well, could recreate from memory. The curve of his jaw and slope of his
nose, the arch of his cupid’s bow. “Kiss me?”

Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed as Namjoon crosses the distance between them. His lips are so soft,
gentle against Yoongi’s own as he nudges their noses together. “It’s okay,” he whispers, kissing
him again. “I’ve got you.”

Namjoon pushes up from the floor, gently directing Yoongi to lay on the bed as he climbs over
him. The kiss only breaks for a moment, just enough time for them to settle onto the mattress and
for Namjoon to brush Yoongi’s bangs from his eyes. Then Namjoon’s lips are back, his mouth
more insistent as he folds over him. Namjoon is a warm weight against his body, draped over him
like a favorite blanket, teasing Yoongi’s lips open with gentle swipes of his tongue.

It’s easy to let Namjoon guide the kiss, to slowly lick into his mouth and nibble at his bottom lip.
Natural to bring his hands up to Namjoon’s hair, to card his fingers through the soft, honey blonde
hair. Yoongi’s eyes still burn, stinging with the press of tears still unshed. His mind is a raging
torrent of fears and words, what ifs laid out before him. But somehow, as Namjoon’s tongue curls
with his own, as his hands slide over Yoongi’s ribs beneath his shirt, it fades to a dull roar.

Maybe Yoongi could let himself be taken care of, maybe he could give in. Just a little, for once, let
himself have something he wants so badly. Push everything else down, forget everything that hurts,
and let Namjoon love him. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi doesn’t always feel like he deserves that
love, tonight he can forget. Tonight it can just be Yoongi and Namjoon and everything between
them. This great, glowing warmth, the sun illuminated after the eclipse. Something Yoongi can’t
seem to look directly at, but that warms him from the inside out. For tonight, he’ll look.

Namjoon’s hands are beneath Yoongi’s shirt, pushing the fabric up and over his head as they kiss.
Once the shirt has been thrown away, Namjoon moves to Yoongi’s neck, trailing a line of soft
kisses down to his shoulder. Yoongi’s breath hitches, eyes fluttering closed, as Namjoon drags the
tip of his tongue down Yoongi’s chest. He curls it around one pink nipple, swirling and lapping
until the nub hardens. He sucks at it gently, teeth tugging at the peaked flesh. Yoongi squirms, soft
whimpers falling from his lips.

The weight of Namjoon’s body still holds him down, keeps him pinned to the mattress. Namjoon’s
hips press into his own, grinding down. Yoongi can feel Namjoon’s hardness against his own, feel
the swell of arousal between them. Namjoon slides down further, his fingertips skating down
Yoongi’s sides, making him shiver. He pauses once he reaches Yoongi’s waistband, fingers on the
fastenings of his jeans.

“Can I?” he asks, thumb toying with the button. Yoongi nods, not trusting himself to speak.
Namjoon doesn’t look away from Yoongi’s face as he pops the button and pulls down the zipper.
“You’re so beautiful.”

Yoongi shakes his head, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. “I’m not, I –“

“You are,” Namjoon insists, sitting up on his knees and shifting so he can pull Yoongi’s jeans
down his legs. The pale lines of his thighs are revealed, smooth unblemished skin. “I’ve never seen
anything more beautiful than you.”

Namjoon falls to his belly, nosing at the junction of Yoongi’s thigh, dusting kisses along the
sensitive skin just below the line of his briefs. Yoongi hisses, hips jumping, as Namjoon attaches
his mouth to his inner thigh, sucking at the skin. He pulls away after a moment, leaving a kiss over
the newly formed bruise before moving to another spot.

All Yoongi can do is whimper and moan, hands clenched in Namjoon’s hair as he mouths at his
thighs. He’s so close to where Yoongi really wants him, teasingly close. He switches sides a few
times, rubbing his cheek or his nose along Yoongi’s clothed cock as he does. The wet spot forming
on his underwear is a telltale sign of how overcome he is, how much he wants.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi croaks, “please.”

“Mm,” Namjoon hums against Yoongi’s leg, his breath tickling Yoongi’s skin.

Slowly, so slowly, he pulls back, eyes raking over Yoongi’s body as he sits up. “Turn over?” he
prompts.

“Please,” Yoongi repeats. “Just want you to touch me.”

“I will,” Namjoon reassures him. “You said I could take care of you.” He squeezes Yoongi’s thigh.
“Come on, baby.”

Gentle hands hold his hips, guiding Yoongi onto his stomach and pulling him up onto his knees.
Namjoon’s hands slide over his thighs and up his sides, smoothing down his back. Yoongi arches
into the touch, letting out a pleased hum at the feeling of Namjoon’s warm palms along his skin.
Fingers hook into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down his legs. Yoongi lifts each leg in
turn as Namjoon pulls them down and off, tossing them onto the floor. He shivers, hands fisting in
the sheets as Namjoon leans in, placing a gentle kiss to the base on his spine.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, voice a breathy whisper.

Namjoon doesn’t respond, just presses another kiss to Yoongi’s skin. His hands slide onto his ass,
palming each globe and squeezing into his skin. Yoongi shivers again as Namjoon spreads his
cheeks, exposing him. “How could you ever think I could let you go?” Namjoon whispers, trailing
a line of kisses down one of Yoongi’s cheeks. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to get you to
come with me since we got here,” Namjoon confides. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Tears well in Yoongi’s eyes again and he lets his head fall forward, bangs obscuring his eyes. He
knows Namjoon loves him, can tell how he feels. But he’s been worried, scared that some of it was
a little one sided. Yoongi couldn’t stop the panicked thoughts that maybe he was more into
Namjoon than Namjoon was to him, that the distance didn’t affect him as much. But he was
wrong, it’s clear Namjoon wants the same things.

Yoongi moans, a desperate sound torn from his chest as Namjoon’s tongue licks over his hole. He
curls in on himself, rocking forward as Namjoon’s hands on his ass hold him firmly in place. “Told
you I wanted to get my mouth on you,” Namjoon rasps, his breath fanning across Yoongi’s
sensitive skin, making him keen. “You taste so good.”
Namjoon traces around the ring of muscle with the tip of his tongue, a teasing touch that has
Yoongi’s breath coming in pants. He laves over Yoongi’s hole, lapping at the skin as Yoongi cries
out, fingers clenching in the sheets. He hisses through his teeth, collapsing onto his elbows as
Namjoon sucks at his rim. It’s wet and messy, Yoongi can feel saliva dripping down his perineum
and over his balls. His cock hangs hard and heavy between his legs, aching as precum drips onto
the sheets below him. Tears sting at his eyes, pleasure blinding him, having him practically
sobbing into the mattress.

Toes curling, Yoongi can’t help but press back against Namjoon’s face, needy for more. Namjoon
hums happily, the vibrations making Yoongi squirm. One hand falls away from gripping Yoongi’s
cheeks and a moment later Yoongi feels it circling his hole along with Namjoon’s tongue. He
moans, a loud, broken sound, as the tip of Namjoon’s finger sinks into him. The slide is easy
enough for one finger, the slickness of Namjoon’s saliva allowing him to slowly press in to the
knuckle.

The stretch feels amazing, Yoongi not having had anything but his own fingers and toys inside of
him for so long. Namjoon’s fingers are longer than his own, but slimmer, the knuckles less
knobby, pads of his fingers smooth. The drag feels amazing, the ridges of Namjoon’s knuckles
catching on his rim as he slowly thrusts in and out. And he keeps his tongue moving, licking and
sucking at Yoongi’s entrance as he strokes along Yoongi’s fluttering walls.

When Namjoon pulls away, Yoongi barely holds in his mewl. He shudders on the bed, rubbing his
teary face into the blankets as he tries to catch his breath.

"Don't move," Namjoon murmurs, squeezing Yoongi's hip.

Yoongi turns his head, blinking unfocused eyes to see Namjoon crouched next to his suitcase,
digging through the contents. He produces a small bag and unzips it, pulling out lube and a
condom. At least Yoongi wasn't the only one being presumptuous.

Namjoon turns back to the bed and pulls off his shirt. Yoongi follows the movement, watching the
toned planes of Namjoon's chest appear, warm tan skin revealed. He's quick to strip out of his
shorts and kick them away. Yoongi's eyes take in his thighs, the bulge in his underwear, mouth
watering at the thought of Namjoon's thick cock in him.

"Is this okay?" Namjoon asks as he steps closer to the bed, pulling his boxers down as he does.

Yoongi nods, gaze still fixed on Namjoon, watching his cock bob free, a sticky trail of precum
breaking from the fabric. "Yeah," Yoongi murmurs. "Need you."

The bed dips as Namjoon climbs on again and Yoongi turns his face away, pressing his forehead
into the blankets. He feels Namjoon settle behind him and hears the pop of the cap on the lube
bottle. At the first touch of Namjoon's fingers, Yoongi lets out a breath he didn't realize he was
holding. It rushes out of him as Namjoon slides two lubed fingers into him.

"Ah," he gasps, back arching. "Joon."

Namjoon folds himself over Yoongi's back, kissing his shoulder blade. "Okay?"

"Feels good," Yoongi mumbles into the blankets, fingers curling tightly into them. He can feel
Namjoon's smile against his skin.

Namjoon's fingers are gentle. He takes his time, stretching Yoongi slowly and deliberately while
he litters his neck and back with kisses. It's clear he knows what he's doing, the pads of his fingers
crooking to brush Yoongi's prostate on every other stroke. It's so different from when Yoongi does
it himself, Namjoon is unhurried, soft and purposeful in every movement.

"Taking me so well," Namjoon murmurs, nuzzling Yoongi's neck. "You look so good like this."

Yoongi can't help but preen, arching into Namjoon's touch as a third finger is pressed past his rim.
There's barely any discomfort, the slight burn overshadowed by pleasure and the feeling of
Namjoon over him. It's not long before Yoongi is biting into the sheets, trying not to hold in the
embarrassing sounds he wants to make. His legs tremble and his cock throbs between his legs.

"Ready?" Namjoon asks, fingers stilling inside of him. Yoongi nods against the sheets and
Namjoon removes his fingers. "Tell me if it's too much," Namjoon says softly.

The tearing of the condom wrapper is loud in the quiet of the room, cutting over the sound of
Yoongi's harsh breathing, the pulse in his ears. But it's not right, not like this. It feels too
impersonal like this, for their first time together. Yoongi's not a romantic, not like Namjoon is, but
he wants to be able to see him.

"Namjoon," Yoongi begins, lifting his face from the blankets. He turns to look over his shoulder,
eyes catching on Namjoon stroking lube along his length.

"Hm?" Namjoon prompts.

Yoongi's eyes trail up Namjoon's body to meet his eyes, they sparkle with warmth, dark and heady.
"Can we - I wanna see you."

Namjoon's eyes soften and he smiles. "Of course, come here." Namjoon sits back, leaning against
the headboard and beckoning Yoongi toward him. Yoongi obeys, turning to crawl up the bed
toward Namjoon. Strong hands guide him into Namjoon's lap, settle him astride muscular thighs.

Hands hold his hips, balancing him as Yoongi drapes his arms over Namjoon's neck. "Go slow?"
Yoongi whispers, ducking his head to peer at Namjoon from beneath his lashes.

"Of course," Namjoon promises, “you set the pace.” He keeps one hand on Yoongi's hip, the other
lining up his cock.

Yoongi sinks down slowly, biting into his lip when Namjoon's cock catches on his rim and slips
inside of him. The stretch feels like so much more than Namjoon's three fingers. He hisses at the
slight sting, fingers digging into Namjoon's shoulders.

"You okay?" Namjoon asks, both hands now on Yoongi's hips, holding him gently.

Yoongi nods, swallows hard. "Just a lot," he rasps.

It feels like it takes ages until he's fully seated, every inch of Namjoon's cock sliding into him is
almost too much. Yoongi can feel it in his chest, in his throat, so deep inside of him. The fullness is
welcome, feeling so right. When Yoongi looks up, he finds Namjoon watching him, an unreadable
expression on his face. It makes something throb inside him, the need returning full force.

He starts slow, circling his hips to get used to the sensation, to how full Namjoon makes him feel.
Namjoon's cock presses perfectly against his prostate, the stimulation making his toes curl already.
Small circles of his hips turn into slow grinds and then rolls of his hips. His cock bobs between
them, dripping precum onto Namjoon's stomach as he begins to move.

"Nice and slow," Namjoon whispers, sliding his palms down to cup Yoongi's ass. Yoongi arches
his back, gasping as the angle shifts Namjoon's cock inside of him. The air is punched out of him
as Namjoon somehow feels even deeper than before. The slide is easier now, the slight burn fading
as he moves. Namjoon fits inside him perfectly, like this is how they were made to be.

Namjoon noses along Yoongi's jaw, moving to his neck to press open mouthed kisses to his throat.
They're gentle, fluttery hints of lips against his skin as Yoongi lifts, dropping himself back onto
Namjoon's cock. Namjoon slides a hand to Yoongi's front, curling his fingers around Yoongi's cock
to stroke in time with their movements. Warmth fills him, fingers and toes tingling as pleasure
pools in his core.

"I'm not gonna last," Namjoon whispers as Yoongi rolls his hips. "You feel so good and this - I've
been dreaming of this for so long."

"I won't either," Yoongi responds, leaning their foreheads together. There's no pressure, Yoongi
knows Namjoon won't care if he comes in five seconds or five minutes.

It's not just the pleasure inside of him, the way Namjoon's cock is rubbing his prostate and his
fingers are squeezing his cock. It's more than that. It's the way Namjoon stares at him, eyes molten
pools of amber, filled with lust and hunger. But beneath that is love, so pure and clear, so easy for
Yoongi to see. No one has ever looked at him the way Namjoon does, no one has ever made him
feel so seen.

He's never wanted anything more than he wants this. The connection with Namjoon, the mind-
numbing pleasure of his touch, of his words.

"I love you," Yoongi whispers, voice raw.

Namjoon's eyes shift, flash and sparkle in the fading afternoon light. "Not as much as I love you,"
he purrs.

Yoongi squeaks, gripping Namjoon's shoulders as Namjoon moves. He blinks, disoriented, as he

realizes he's suddenly flat on his back, Namjoon over him. A moan falls from his lips, hands
gripping Namjoon's back, as Namjoon presses back into him. Those muscular thighs begin to work
and Namjoon thrusts into him, deep drags of his cock punching moans straight from Yoongi's
chest.

His fingers curl around the back of Namjoon's neck, pulling him down so they're nose to nose.
Tears blur his vision and Yoongi isn’t even sure what they’re for, everything just feels charged and
overwhelming. Namjoon holds Yoongi's hips, pulling him nearly onto his lap as he fucks into him.
Slow and steady, pounding Yoongi into the mattress. He teeters on the edge, on the brink of
rapture as Namjoon's fingers dimple his skin.

Yoongi's body trembles, eyes squeezing closed as he gives in to the pleasure. His hips roll to meet
Namjoon's thrusts, whines spilling out of him in a continuous rush. There's lava in his veins,
electricity in his core as Namjoon moves, sticky slow, inside of him, burying his face in Yoongi’s
neck. The drag of his cock is maddening, so slow and perfect, every ridge making pleasure spark
inside of him. Snaking a hand between them, Yoongi palms himself, back arching as Namjoon
whispers in his ear.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Each thrust punctuated by the
words, repeated like a mantra. Yoongi cries out as static roars in his ears and his vision blurs, a
wave of pleasure crashing over him. It drags him under, tearing the breath from his lungs and
making him shake and shiver. Toes curling, fingers convulsing, teeth sinking his lip hard enough to
bruise as cum paints his stomach. And Namjoon follows, with a grunt and a gasp, burying himself
 deep and filling the condom.

Yoongi thinks he whites out for a few seconds, maybe a minute. When he blinks open his eyes,
Namjoon is draped over him, head buried in Yoongi's neck as he pants against his skin. Yoongi
lifts a shaky hand, gently stroking Namjoon's hair, his sweaty back. He feels sated, some of the fear
washed away as he lays spent, Namjoon in his arms.

With a groan, Namjoon pushes himself up, blinking down at him. "You good?" Yoongi nods, not
trusting his voice, and Namjoon smiles. "Wait here." Namjoon slowly sits up, pulling out and
sliding off the bed.

Yoongi wants to tell him to stay, ask him not to go. But he knows that would be ridiculous,
Namjoon is just going to the bathroom. His hand still moves toward the edge of the bed, trying to
chase Namjoon as he wobbles away. When Namjoon disappears out the doorway, Yoongi turns his
head, blinking up at the ceiling.

Is he really going to do this? Is he going to leave everything behind, leave Hoseok and Seokjin and
move to Colorado? Maybe they just got caught up. Maybe Namjoon doesn't really mean it and
tomorrow he'll tell Yoongi it was all a mistake, but -

"Hey."

Yoongi turns his head again, blinking at Namjoon in the doorway. He's still nude, hair damp and
slicked back off his forehead.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon steps into the room carrying a hand towel. "Don't try to ruin this in your head." He kneels
beside Yoongi on the bed, bringing the towel to his skin. "I meant everything I said today and I
don't want you to second guess it."

"I just -"

"Don't," Namjoon repeats. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." He smiles gently. “We have all the time
in the world to talk.” Namjoon tosses the towel away and plops down beside him, pulling Yoongi
into his arms. "But for now," he noses at Yoongi's cheek and Yoongi can smell the minty freshness
of mouthwash. "I just want to hold you."

"Okay," Yoongi murmurs, voice thick. Tears burn behind his eyes again. He wants to believe this,
believe that everything will be okay. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Namjoon agrees. "Now come here," he pecks Yoongi's lips, "and let me tell you how
much I love you."

Yoongi can't help his smile, the way warmth blooms again in his chest as Namjoon peppers his
cheeks with kisses, whispering nonsense and love. He can worry about everything tomorrow, for
tonight at least, he has Namjoon.

Chapter End Notes

Twitter!
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist Here!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The person in the mirror staring back at him is a stranger. Yoongi doesn't recognize the reflection,
the man blinking hooded eyes under fluorescent lights. Puffy cheeks and swollen, red eyes, bitten
lips. A face tired and drawn from too much crying, eyes a little too wild.

Yesterday feels like a whirlwind in his mind. The dread and fear Yoongi had been feeling
exploding out of him in a rush. And Namjoon, perfect, sweet Namjoon, had held him through it,
and promised Yoongi things he shouldn't promise.

Yoongi's fingers tighten around the edges of the vanity. "Is this a bad idea?" he whispers to himself,
seeing his lips move. His voice sounds hollow to his ears, so weary. It might be a bad idea, might
be a mistake but...

Peeling his hands away from the sink, Yoongi turns on the tap. He ducks his head over the basin,
splashing his face and neck with water. It can't be a mistake. Yoongi doesn't want it to be a
mistake. He's getting what he wanted, isn't he? Everything he'd hoped for, permanence with his
boyfriend. So if he's getting everything he wants, why are Yoongi's hands shaking so badly? Why
does he feel so scared?

"Change is hard," he whispers to himself, "this is just new. It's a lot."

It is a lot, a big change. But maybe that's just what Yoongi needs. A big change, all for the better.

Turning off the water, Yoongi pats his face dry with a towel and pads back into the bedroom. He
pauses at the doorway, finding Namjoon on his side, watching him. His heart swells as he sees
Namjoon's messy hair and sleep softened face. Namjoon smiles, gentle and fond, as he spots
Yoongi. He reaches out his arm, beckoning, and some of Yoongi's fear melts away.

Yoongi climbs back onto the bed, letting Namjoon pull him against his chest and into the circle of
his arms. Namjoon presses a kiss to his forehead, making Yoongi's heart flip flop in his chest,
before pulling back to look at him. Honey brown eyes search Yoongi's face, taking him in.

"You okay?" Namjoon asks, trailing a hand up Yoongi's arm to cup his cheek.

Swallowing, Yoongi nods, feeling the pads of Namjoon's fingers slide against his skin. "Yeah, I'm
fine." He is, when they're like this.

Namjoon smiles again and leans in, connecting their lips in a gentle kiss. It's lazy and slow, as their
lips brush together, featherlight and searching. They find a rhythm easily, Yoongi wrapping his
arms around Namjoon to keep him close as they push and pull, heads tilting. Their tongues slide
together, almost tentatively, slow and wet. Yoongi doesn't mind the morning breath, the tackiness
of his own saliva, with Namjoon's mouth on his. Namjoon's palm against his cheek is grounding, a
warm weight that keeps him present.
When the kiss breaks, Namjoon nudges their noses together, giving Yoongi another soft smile,
though this one looks a little nervous. "We should probably talk." His voice is gentle, leading, but
Yoongi knows it's a statement, not a question.

"I know," Yoongi agrees. "Coffee?"

They unwind their bodies and get up slowly, pulling on t-shirts and underwear and heading
downstairs. Yoongi brews coffee as Namjoon gets out mugs, moving around each other in a quiet
dance. Time seems to slip away from him, and before Yoongi can really collect his thoughts, the
coffee is ready. They sit across from each other at the small dining table, steaming mugs of coffee
between them. It feels like neither of them wants to speak first, the air thick with their collective
nerves.

Yoongi swallows hard, decides to speak first. "Were you serious?"

"I was," Namjoon says, sitting up straight. "I am. I want to be with you." Namjoon plays with the
handle of his mug. "I know we've been together for a while now, but now that we're really
together, I can't imagine letting you go."

It warms something in Yoongi's chest, Namjoon's words quieting some of the nervous flutter. "I
don't want to let you go either."

Namjoon shifts and licks his lips. "This is a big deal though, are you sure you want this?"

"Are you?" Yoongi challenges.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not upset about you lying to me," Namjoon admits. "It hurts that you
wouldn't confide in me. Don’t you trust me?”

"I do," Yoongi says immediately. "That's not it at all. I just - I didn't want to complicate things and
I didn't want you to worry about me."

Namjoon nods but doesn't look very mollified. "I said yesterday that this is supposed to be a
partnership, we shouldn’t have secrets like that from each other. I know you felt like you were
protecting me or something, but don't you think I should get to make that decision for myself?"

Yoongi digs his fingernails into his palms, the dull sting from his bitten nails cutting into his skin
throbs through his body. Selfish, he was selfish. And desperate. So desperate to hold onto Namjoon
that he hid the harsher realities, the things that he was afraid would chase Namjoon away. If
Yoongi kept the worst things to himself, Namjoon wouldn't think he was too much. "I do," he says
finally. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to lose you."

"The only way you're going to lose me is if you're not honest with me," Namjoon retorts. "I love
you, Yoongi. I've loved you for months, love you even more now that I've met you. Good and bad.
Let me in?"

The prospect is scary. Hoseok and Seokjin know the most, have been there for the lowest lows, the
hospitalizations and breakdowns. But even they don't know everything. Yoongi has become very
good at compartmentalizing and pushing things to the side. Maladaptive coping mechanisms his
therapist had said. Yoongi hasn't been to a therapist in years. But he knows what these coping
mechanisms do, knows how they create barriers and walls.

"I'll try," Yoongi croaks. Because he can't promise more than that, not at first.

Namjoon accepts it. "Okay, that's all I want." He ducks his head, trying to catch Yoongi's eyes. "I
love you, okay? It's you and me."

"You and me," Yoongi echoes, swallowing down some of the hurt. Yoongi and Namjoon, he likes
the sound of that. It feels better, like something whole and good. "I love you too, I'm sorry. I'll try
to be better."

"I will, too. I want to help. Will you let me?"

Yoongi nods, eyes fixed on the table. "Okay," he murmurs. "I'll let you." He takes a deep breath,
lets it out, and looks up again.

“Will you tell me what happened then, with your job?” Namjoon asks, a gentle prompt.

“Derek,” Yoongi huffs.

“Fucking Derek,” Namjoon groans.

Yoongi smiles a little, he’s complained about Derek a lot. “You remember when he told me I
couldn’t have the time off anymore?” Namjoon nods and Yoongi continues. “I went in to try to
convince him, just to talk to him. He was such an asshole to me, so dismissive and rude and I
just… I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t let myself be treated like that anymore, I felt so worthless. And
when he said I wasn’t going to be able to see you… I snapped.”

“Did you punch him?”

“No!” Yoongi shakes his head. “But I told him to go fuck himself and threw my uniform at him.”

Namjoon hums, considering. “I understand why you’d want to quit. I think it was a long time
coming, really, you were treated so badly there. But I wish you had looked for something else and
quit when you had something lined up, you know?”

Of course he knows. That would be the smart, responsible thing to do. Namjoon has offered to help
him with his resume so many times. But Yoongi is always embarrassed about it. What does he
have to show? A string of shitty jobs, an incomplete college degree. “I know,” he says finally. “It
really was all in the moment, but… I don’t think I could go back there even if I had to.”

“I understand,” Namjoon intones. “But, babe, you can’t be so reckless. Especially if we’re going to
do this together, okay? We talk about things, think about them.”

“I know,” Yoongi nods. “Okay. Maybe you can help me with my resume?”

Namjoon beams at him, nodding eagerly. “Of course, I’d be happy to.”

Yoongi doesn't want to say the next words, but he needs to get them out, needs to know this isn't -
that this is okay. "Is this a mistake?"

Namjoon doesn't answer right away, he studies Yoongi with unreadable eyes. Finally he licks his
lips and shrugs. "It doesn't feel like a mistake to me. Does it feel like one to you?"

If Yoongi's being honest, he doesn't know. It's a huge decision and a huge change, something that
will permanently change his life. It could end horribly. But... it could also be the start of something
bigger, something brighter. For all the fear swirling like a tempest in Yoongi's body, there's a spark
there too. A glimmer of hope, like a ray of sunlight breaking through his clouds. The possibility of
more, the hope for a future he doesn't dread. "No," he says quietly. "No," he repeats, louder this
time, "it doesn't."
"Okay then," Namjoon says, nodding firmly. "Let's do this." His hand slides across the table, palm
up, an invitation.

Yoongi takes it, lacing their fingers together and smiling, small and nervous, as their eyes meet.
"Let's do it."

"What about my car? My apartment?" Yoongi says a bit later, nails of one hand caught between his
lips. He nibbles at one, tearing the skin with his teeth.

Namjoon's hand lifts and pries Yoongi's fingers from his mouth. He tangles their hands together
atop his chest before speaking. "I figure we could just take my car and drive from Boston to
Colorado together? When's your lease up?"

Yoongi's other hand is buried in Namjoon's hair, Namjoon's head on his bare thighs as they lounge
on the couch. They've been talking about logistics for the past hour, which started with Namjoon
making spreadsheets and plans, and has culminated in them cuddled together on the couch.
"October," Yoongi supplies, "I already paid September rent and was supposed to go in to renew my
lease in a couple weeks."

"Serendipitous," Namjoon says softly. "Tell them you're not renewing and you're all set. Are you
very attached to your car? We can take both if you want?"

The old Subaru has been Yoongi's for a few years, bought at a used car lot outside the city. It runs
well, unfailingly reliable for its age. But he doesn't really need it, he's never really needed it that
much in the city anyway. He's come close to selling it a few times. "No, I'll post it on Craigslist or
something. I don't need it." He looks down at Namjoon, offering him a small smile. "And it'll be
more fun, don't you think? Driving together."

"Absolutely," Namjoon says with his own answering smile. "You'll need to add to the playlist
though, that's a lot of hours to cover."

"I'll get to work on that," Yoongi promises. "I don't have much stuff, I can list it for sale and just
take my clothes, instruments, all that stuff."

"Anything you want to bring," Namjoon confirms, "if it doesn't fit in the car we can ship it."

An insane expense Yoongi can't afford. He'd rather chuck everything he doesn't explicitly need and
start from scratch, buy when he can afford it. "It's okay, I'd rather have a fresh start."

"A new beginning," Namjoon whispers. He lifts their clasped hands to his lips, brushing a kiss over
Yoongi's knuckles. "I'm happy," Namjoon says a little more loudly, voice firm. "I want to do this
with you."

"Yeah." Yoongi nods. "I want this." More than anything.

Namjoon smiles up at him. "Alright, so we leave tomorrow morning for Boston. I just need to call
work and tell them I need another week. And I guess call my friends? Let them know I'll be longer
and, uh, that you're coming with me. Is that okay?"

Shit. Friends. The fact that Yoongi will need to tell Seokjin and Hoseok hits him like a truck.
Seokjin is going to kill him. "Sure," Yoongi says, trying to be casual. "You can tell them."

"They're going to be so excited to meet you," Namjoon says happily, letting go of Yoongi's hand to
reach for his phone beside him on the couch cushion. "Taehyung still likes to tease me that you're
just a fake boyfriend I made up."

"I could be just a figment of your imagination," Yoongi teases. Namjoon frowns and Yoongi dips
down, folding in half to press their lips together in a quick kiss. "I should call the Seoks."

Namjoon looks at Yoongi for a moment, seeming to read the anxiety that sentence provokes. He
sits up and pecks Yoongi on the cheek. "Okay, I'll go outside on the deck to make my calls. Let me
know if you need anything?"

"Okay," Yoongi agrees. "I'll go upstairs maybe."

They share one last kiss before Namjoon stands and slips out the sliding glass doors to the deck.
Yoongi gets to his feet, letting out a shaky breath, and heads for the stairs. He's not sure how to
start this conversation, how to tell his best friends what he's doing. Imagining their reactions is
unpleasant.

Sitting on the end of the bed, Yoongi grabs his phone from his nightstand and hits Hoseok's
contact. He waits a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth, as he waits for the line to
connect.

"Yoonie! Hello sunshine!" Hoseok chirps. "Jinnie's here too, say hi!"

"Glad to receive confirmation you're still alive," Seokjin huffs, "unless this is a ransom call. If so,
you can keep him."

Yoongi snorts, flopping backwards onto the bed. "I'm alive."

"How was the eclipse?" Hoseok asks.

The eclipse Yoongi didn't watch because he was too busy having a breakdown. "Alright. How are
you guys?"

"We're good. We just -"

"You sound weird. Why are you being weird?" Seokjin cuts Hoseok off abruptly. "Has Namjoon
hurt you? Are you alright? I can be there in four hours by plane if you need me."

"I'm okay," Yoongi insists. "I just - have some news?"

Silence. Then Hoseok, voice hesitant. "Are you... pregnant?"

"Good lord, Hoseok, what's the matter with you?" Seokjin snaps. He sighs audibly. "Absolutely
ridiculous. Well, nothing can be more astonishing than that so..." he trails off, prompting Yoongi to
speak.

Yoongi swallows, rolling onto his side and curling his knees to his chest. "You can't get mad," he
says softly. "You have to promise."

"We promise," Hoseok says at the same time Seokjin huffs an affronted "I promise no such thing."

Well, that's probably as good as Yoongi's going to get. "I'm moving to Colorado."

Silence, heavier this time. Yoongi holds his breath, waits for any kind of response.

"Yoongi Min," Seokjin begins, voice calm, emotionless, "have you lost your damn mind?"
"Baby," Hoseok says softly, "be nice. We must have misheard him. Yoon, come again?"

"I told Namjoon about my job -"

"As you should have done from the beginning," Seokjin snaps.

Mr. Voice of Reason Seokjin Kim is not Yoongi's best friend today. "And we talked." Well,
Yoongi mostly cried, but they did talk today. "We decided I'll move to Colorado with him."

"I don't even know what to say to you." Seokjin's voice is sharp, quiet. "You've done a lot of stupid
things before, but this is - what are you thinking? Are you thinking? You can't just move to
Colorado with a man you met three days ago."

Yoongi scowls, gripping the phone tightly. He knew this wouldn't be easy, knew what he was
getting into, but it still hurts. "I've known Namjoon for over a year," Yoongi argues. "Just because
we only met in person a few days ago doesn't mean anything."

"It certainly does!" Seokjin snaps back. "Yoongi, you can't just pack up and move halfway across
the country when things get hard."

"And why not?" Yoongi retorts. "I could start a life with Namjoon, I have a chance at real
happiness here and I want to take it."

"A chance!" Seokjin nearly shouts. "A chance. There is no guarantee. What if you get there and
everything isn't perfect anymore? Because I guarantee you, you're seeing everything through your
special eclipse glasses now, but that won't last forever. What do you really know about him? How
he lives, what his life is like. Is he clean or messy, does he separate his laundry? Do you know him
or do you just know this idealized version of him?”

Logically, Yoongi knows that's true. He could say he knows everything about Namjoon, but that
would be a lie. The honeymoon phase can't last forever, no matter how long Yoongi wants it to.
But he wants to bathe in this afterglow a little longer, take a chance on something that could make
him happy.

"I don't have anything else," Yoongi whispers. Tears burn behind his eyes and he squeezes them
closed.

"Another good reason not to do this," Seokjin insists. "You can't put all your hopes of happiness on
Namjoon. That's not healthy for you or him. And it's not fair to Namjoon at all, that's so much
pressure!"

Yoongi wraps his free arm around his knees, tucking himself more firmly into a ball. "I'm not. I
don't want to be miserable and lonely anymore, Seokjin. That's not fair to me," Yoongi growls.
"Don't I deserve to try?"

"Of course you do, Yoongi." Hoseok this time, voice much more gentle, soothing. "All Seokjin and
I want is for you to be happy. But this all seems so sudden.”

"I agree," Seokjin adds. "Don't you think you should come back home and think about it?"

A laugh, dry and humorless spills past Yoongi's lips. "Come home and think about things?" His
phone case groans beneath the pressure of his fingers and Yoongi loosens his grip around the
device. "I don't have anything to come back to, Seokjin. I can't afford the next month of rent on my
apartment, I don't have a job and I haven’t felt at home in Boston in years. I have nothing to come
back to, there's nothing there for me."
Another beat of silence, and then Yoongi hears a sniffle. "What about us?" Hoseok's voice, wet and
tiny.

"Oh, Hobi." Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed tighter, hugs his arm around himself more firmly. "I
didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" Seokjin snaps, voice icy calm.

This isn't how Yoongi wanted this conversation to go. He was sure his friends would argue, he
knows they're just worried. But this was supposed to be calm and rational. Seokjin and Hoseok are
the only things worth going back to Boston for. Seokjin, his best friend from a much better part of
town, friends since middle school, Hoseok from high school, more a family to Yoongi than anyone
else. The only spot of warmth and brightness to his existence in Boston's crushing grip.

"I'm sorry," Yoongi says gently, fighting back his own tears. He can hear Hoseok crying softly.
This isn't what he wanted to do, he didn't want to break his friends hearts, hurt them like he's been
hurting. "I love you both, you know that. I just - I need to do this. I can't keep going like I have
been. Don't you see that?"

A long sigh, and then Seokjin again. "We do, Yoongi. This is just so drastic. You can’t just run
away from your problems, they will always be there.”

"I know," Yoongi agrees. "I know," he repeats, "but I need this. Can't you support me in this?"

"No," Seokjin says immediately, voice firm. "Yoongi, no, I can't support this, we don't even know
Namjoon. I'm not going to try to stop you, you're a grown man who can make his own decisions.
But..." He pauses and sighs again. "But this is going to bite you in the ass somehow, and it’s not
fair to me to ask me to support it blindly."

"And you won't be there if it does?" Yoongi challenges. Not when, only if. And Yoongi hopes that
if will never come.

Seokjin snorts. "Of course I will, I will always be there for you. Even when you make dumb ass
decisions and turn my hair gray." There's a low murmur of conversation that Yoongi can't make
out. "Look, Yoongi, we love you. Clearly there's no changing your mind just - think about this?
Really think about it, please?"

"I have, Seokjin."

"You haven't," Seokjin retorts. "I'm not going to support this or be happy about it, but - just
promise me you'll really think about this decision?"

"Alright," Yoongi whispers. "I promise. But Seokjin, Jinnie... I need this. If I don't do this then I - I
don't know what else there is for me."

Hoseok sniffles again. "We want you to be happy, Yoon," he says gently. "If this is what you need
and think is best... we're here for you."

"Thank you Hobi," Yoongi murmurs. "I'm sorry. I love you both, I just need..."

"A fresh start?" Hoseok suggests.

Yoongi bites his lip as a tear slides down his cheek, eyes still squeezed closed. "Yeah, a fresh
start," he echoes. "I need to do this for me."
"Okay," Seokjin says, finally speaking again. "Alright." He sighs again. "What's your plan?"

"We're leaving tomorrow to drive back to Boston. We'll spend a couple days organizing things. I'll
sell most of my stuff, things I don't need and... yeah. Then we drive to Denver."

"Fine," Seokjin's voice is clipped, business-like. "Hoseok and I will go to your apartment and take
pictures of your furniture and start organizing your things." A pause. "You're sure?"

Yoongi swallows around the lump in his throat. "I'm sure."

"Fine," Seokjin repeats. Another pause, then Seokjin's voice again, gentler, sounding tired and
close to tears. "We love you, Yoongi."

"I love you both, I'm sorry." Yoongi lets his phone drop to the mattress as the call ends, bringing
his other arm to his legs to cling tighter to himself. He tries to fight back the tears. Seokjin is right,
probably, at least partly, but Yoongi knows this is what he wants, what he needs. He has to get out
of Boston, leave all the bad memories and pain behind. If he thinks about Boston, his memories are
mostly unhappy, they hurt to think about. He can break the bad habits, break the stranglehold
Boston and it’s hurts have on him.

"Hey." Yoongi doesn't move at the sound of Namjoon's voice, just sniffs quietly. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Yoongi croaks, voice hoarse and watery.

The bed dips a moment later and warm arms wrap around Yoongi's torso, pulling him back against
a firm chest. Namjoon's lips press to his neck. "You okay?"

"I'm okay."

"They're mad?" Yoongi nods and Namjoon presses another kiss to the back of his neck, squeezing
him tight. "You still want to do this?" Namjoon asks.

"Yes," Yoongi confirms. He holds onto Namjoon's forearms, feeling Namjoon's steady pulse
beneath his fingertips. "Let's do it."

The day is full of calls and plans, figuring out logistics and routes. Hoseok sends over pictures of
Yoongi's furniture and Jimin calls to gush about how excited he is. Namjoon and Yoongi take
pictures of Yoongi's car and post everything on Craigslist for sale.

"I should list the mileage as a thousand more than it has," Yoongi says as he types up the last ad. "I
do have to drive it back."

Beside him, Namjoon laughs softly. "Very true. Hopefully your car doesn't break down on the
trip."

"Don't jinx it!" Yoongi huffs, pinching Namjoon in the side. He clicks post and watches as his
advertisement is finalized. "That's it," he says, closing his laptop. "I'm ready."

"Me too," Namjoon agrees, pulling Yoongi into a kiss.

That night, they lay curled together under the sheets staring at each other in the semi-darkness.
Cicadas whine outside the windows and Yoongi's fingertips trace the curve of Namjoon's jaw, all
the lines and edges of his features. He thought that when they reached this moment, their last night
together, it would be the start of saying goodbye. But now it's something more and Yoongi only
has to say what's next.

Yoongi had imagined this moment, imagined how it would feel to have to say goodbye to
Namjoon. He's still nervous, still terrified about what they're doing, but the fact that he doesn't
have to say goodbye means more than any of that. There will be no farewell in the morning, only a
see you in a few hours as they hit the road together. Yoongi does not need to be alone, not anymore.

"It's a new adventure," Namjoon whispers.

Yoongi smiles, tracing Namjoon's lips with his thumb. "I've never been all that adventurous," he
admits.

"Well, I think you're very brave." He presses a kiss to the pad of Yoongi's thumb. "I love you."

Namjoon draws him in, his hand on the small of Yoongi's back pulling him closer. Their noses
bump and Yoongi giggles, Namjoon smiling against his lips, until they find each other. Mouths
slotting together, a press of lips that Yoongi tries to push everything into. All of his feelings and
emotions, love and promises of so much more.

"I love you too," Yoongi murmurs against Namjoon's lips.

They fall asleep like that, kissing softly, unhurried, until they drift off in each other's arms.

When Yoongi wakes in the morning, Namjoon is not in bed beside him. He blinks his eyes open,
sliding a hand across the blankets in search of his boyfriend. The sheets are still faintly warm, a
memory of Namjoon's body. Yoongi can't help but feel that this is like before, when they'd talk on
the phone and Yoongi would wish Namjoon was beside him. The fear that Namjoon might have
left, decided this was a bad idea, strikes out of nowhere.

But before panic can grip him, he hears it - humming, muffled through the partially closed
bedroom door. Namjoon's humming, the sound of dishes clinking together. Yoongi releases a
breath he didn't realize he was holding, buries his face in his pillow as he tries to calm himself
down. A moment later, the humming gets louder and Yoongi can hear footsteps on the stairs.

Yoongi rolls over to face the bedroom door, watching as Namjoon shoulders it open and stands in
the doorway.

"Oh!" He looks surprised. "You're awake." He's carrying a tray in both hands, shirtless in just
boxers and a pair of socks.

"I am," Yoongi confirms, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's this?"

Namjoon smiles, looking very pleased with himself. "I made breakfast."

"Breakfast in bed?" Yoongi grins heart somersaulting in his stomach. "I feel like a prince."

"My prince," Namjoon agrees, crossing to the bed. He sets the tray on the edge of the bed and
slides in beside Yoongi before pulling the tray up to both of them. "I hope it's okay."

The tray is laden with plates of eggs and toast, glasses of orange juice and mugs of coffee. The
toast is a little burnt and Yoongi's pretty sure he can see shells in the eggs but - "It looks delicious."
He leans over, pressing a lingering kiss to Namjoon's cheek. "No one's ever made me breakfast in
bed before."

"I thought it would be a nice surprise, especially on our last morning here." He smiles, dimples
popping. "We need our energy for the drive today."

"That we do," Yoongi says, returning the smile. "I should check to see if there are any cool places
to stop on the way back. I mostly just packed the trip on the way here, but I bet there are more
places we can hit."

"That sounds great." Namjoon passes Yoongi a fork and a plate of eggs. "Do you think there are
more oversized things for us to see?"

Yoongi hums, surreptitiously picking some of the shells out of his eggs. "Maybe, there is that tiny
town in Pennsylvania where a bunch of cats live, we could check that out."

"Sounds cool, perfect for you." Namjoon nudges him, grinning. "Since you look like a kitty, maybe
you can find some long-lost siblings."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his eggs. They're a little overcooked and rubbery, but
Yoongi thinks they're the best eggs he's ever eaten.

"Hey, maybe you can introduce me to your pioneer wife!"

"I don't know," Yoongi murmurs, pretending to consider. "I don't want to be tarred and feathered
for adultery."

"She'd just be mad you chose me over her," Namjoon teases. He lifts his fork and brings a bite of
eggs to his mouth, grimacing as he chews. "Are eggs supposed to be crunchy?"

Yoongi giggles and leans in to press another kiss to Namjoon's cheek, wiping the frown from his
face. "They're perfect."

"You'll call me when you want to take a break?" Namjoon asks, leaning in through the driver's side
window of Yoongi's car.

"Of course, we can stop for lunch in a few hours."

Namjoon nods, though he looks a little confused. "I still don't know why you wanted to pack the
cooler with sandwiches and stuff. There's plenty of rest areas with food."

Rest areas with expensive food. And they still had bread and lunch meat in the fridge, there was no
way Yoongi was going to let it go to waste. Plenty of snacks and drinks left too, enough for lunch
and dinner at least on the first day. "We may as well use up what we have, right?"

"Okay," Namjoon finally agrees, "as long as there's no tuna."

"No tuna," Yoongi promises. "There's a nice scenic rest area we can stop at to eat, just call if you
want to stop before that."

"I shouldn't -" he pauses, considers. "I did have a lot of coffee. I'll probably have to pee."

Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes as Namjoon grins at him. "You're hopeless. Ready?"

"Are you?" Namjoon challenges.

Yoongi's fingers tighten on the wheel but he nods. "Yes." Electricity buzzes under his skin, a
nervous pulse. "I'm ready."

Ducking in through the window, Namjoon captures Yoongi's lips in a gentle kiss. Yoongi chases
after his lips when Namjoon pulls away, not wanting it to end.

"Drive carefully," Namjoon says, "no speeding."

It's fitting, Yoongi thinks, that when he turns on his car and the playlist he made Namjoon starts,
Hotel Yorba is the first song that plays. The song that led him to finding Namjoon in the first
place, the catalyst for their first meeting. Something new, Yoongi taking a chance when he
messaged Namjoon that first time. Over a year of chances, of firsts that have seemed so scary. But
Yoongi has gotten through them all, with Namjoon by his side they don't seem as daunting. He has
Namjoon now, and that helps this new adventure seem a little less scary.

Yoongi's mind wanders as he drives. There's something about seemingly endless stretches of
highway, unbroken as they disappear into the distance, that lull Yoongi into a kind of meditative
calm. His fingers on the wheel tap along to the beat of the music coming through his speakers as he
leans back into his seat.

On the drive to Nashville, his mind had replayed his experiences with Namjoon, moments leading
up to their first meeting. His mind doesn't travel there now. There is no more pleasant, honey
coated dip into the past. Now it's the future, a future that is uncertain.

Optimism has never been one of Yoongi's strong suits. It's something that has eluded him,
especially as he grew older and things never changed. Every day was the same, dead-end job and
cold apartment, empty bank account and lonely bed. A university dropout with a string of shitty
jobs, going nowhere too fast to catch a break. Then Namjoon. Sunlight and warmth in his
monotone existence. Namjoon is always looking toward a future that seems so bright, so hopeful.

The loneliness had been crushing, before Namjoon came into his life. Hoseok and Seokjin never
excluded him, but it was clear, once they got together, that they had a life outside of him. Yoongi
never resented them, never begrudged them their happiness, but it still hurt. They had each other to
go home to, Yoongi had a perpetually sick looking succulent on his windowsill. Which prompted
his friends to try to help.

A few years ago, Yoongi had been in what he would now consider a semi-serious relationship. At
the time, he had considered it as something much more. A coworker of Seokjin's at the marketing
agency where he worked, with a handsome smile and shirts that were crisply ironed. Seokjin
begged him to give the guy a chance. Said Jay was sweet, smart, a real catch.

He tried to sweep Yoongi off his feet, wining and dining him, taking him on expensive dates.
Yoongi was just lonely and depressed enough to let him, to get pulled into the subtle glamour and
charm. It was small things at first: Yoongi's hair color, his nose ring. Suggestions that he'd look
better without them, wouldn't he prefer to be natural. Then suddenly Yoongi was in jeans without
rips, neat slacks and button down shirts. A closet of clothes he barely recognized because Jay
wanted him pretty and put together.

Yoongi stopped playing guitar, stopped writing songs, stopped having a personality. It felt normal
and right at the time, even though it hurt. He can see it for what it was now, emotional
manipulation, abusive maybe, if he squints. They were going to move in together, Jay gave him a
key, asked Yoongi when his lease was up, had him bring things over.
And what a catch Jay was. Especially when Yoongi caught him fucking a guy from his crew team.
And then Yoongi fell apart. A big one, maybe the big one. World rocked and ripped apart, his
entire identity had been erased and in its place he had become Jay's perfect doll. The sadness was
crushing. It took three months before Yoongi got angry.

Once he was angry, the sadness was gone and he could see it now, see Jay for what he was. The
only reason Yoongi didn't throw all those stupid fucking shirts and fancy pants into the harbor was
because it was probably bad for the fish. He only donated them at Hoseok's insistence, he would
have burnt them instead.

Jay was like a bruise that wouldn't heal. Therapy and pills and the boiling anger later, Yoongi
finally ripped off the band aid, picked the scab, and keyed his car. He felt a lot better after that,
digging out his old clothes from under his bed, dying his hair and painting his nails. Yoongi cried
when he pulled out his guitar six months later, the strings beneath his fingers biting into his skin.

Coping was hard. When the hurt from Jay faded, there was other hurt to feel. The hurt of
everything else. Healing from Jay was an experience, something that didn't even sting anymore, but
the rest... it didn't just go away. He stopped being able to afford the therapy but he took his pills
and played guitar. Then Yoongi made his YouTube channel and started posting his songs. A bright
spot, something to connect him to other people, to share something he loved. And then, when he
wasn't even looking for him, there was Namjoon.

Even with Namjoon on the phone, through a screen, the loneliness had hurt. But it was a different
kind of hurt, a longing that could be eased. It was easier when he could come home and talk to
Namjoon, when he could see his smiling face through a screen. Namjoon made him feel a little
less worthless and a little less alone.

Namjoon makes him want to be an optimist, makes him want to try harder, be more. He makes
Yoongi feel like he deserves more and maybe is capable of more than the little life he scraped out
for himself. Nothing grand, but something he can be proud of. Namjoon makes him want to start
over.

Yoongi is terrified of making a mistake, terrified of starting over. Hope and fear swirl in his
stomach in a perpetual tornado of nausea. But every time Yoongi glances in his rearview mirror,
Namjoon is behind him. Namjoon is right there with him, ready for this new journey and diving in
headfirst. Yoongi wants to try to be an optimist.

The scenic rest area is small, and not very scenic. But there are a couple of picnic tables where they
can sit and eat. They sit across from each other, legs tangled beneath them as they eat their
sandwiches and apples.

"Did I ever tell you," Namjoon begins around a mouthful of ham and cheese, "I didn't get my
driver's license until I was twenty-three."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "I don't think you did. Why did you wait so long?"

Namjoon shrugs, smiles sheepishly. "Jimin told me it was safer for the world if I didn't drive."

The bite of sandwich Yoongi was chewing nearly gets lodged in his throat as he laughs, surprised
by Namjoon's confession. He coughs, clutching his chest as he tries to get ahold of himself. "I
knew you were clumsy," he wheezes, "but I wouldn't have gone that far."
"I took out my neighbor's mailbox on my bike in high school," Namjoon admits, "twice." He
flashes a grin as Yoongi laughs again. "I took the driving course four times. I was so nervous."

"Is that why I drove so much in Nashville? Do you not like driving?"

"It's not my favorite thing, I get kind of anxious." Namjoon smiles and shrugs again. "You know I
ride my bike to work most days."

Yoongi suddenly feels a little guilty. Namjoon drove a thousand miles to meet him. Namjoon
probably could have flown if he went to see the eclipse alone, could have flown anyway and
Yoongi could have picked him up at the airport. And now Yoongi is asking him to drive two
thousand miles across the country. He's effectively doubled the total length of their trip and
Namjoon just told him he doesn't like driving.

"Namjoon," Yoongi begins, "I -"

"I know what you're going to say," Namjoon interrupts. "I wanted to drive, I wanted to make the
trip to meet you. And now I want to make the trip to Boston and to Denver. You're not forcing me."

Yoongi can't afford to fly, but Namjoon could. "You could fly from Boston and I could drive and
meet you?"

"Absolutely not," Namjoon says immediately. "We're doing this together. Besides -" he offers a
gentle smile, "it's much easier with you driving in front of me. It'll be even easier when we're
driving together."

Warmth fills Yoongi's chest, heats his cheeks. It's surprising for some reason, that Namjoon feels
the same way, less nervous when Yoongi is around. But it's nice, it feels good. "I'll keep you safe,"
Yoongi promises, "just watch out for moose once we get to New England."

Namjoon stares at him, eyes wide. "You're joking right?"

"Maybe," Yoongi quips, taking a bite of his sandwich. Namjoon kicks him under the table.

That night, they stay in the same motel in Virginia that Yoongi had stayed in a few days ago. He
already had it booked for his return trip and there were no questions asked when it was two people
instead of one. Namjoon glances around the motel room with thinly disguised concern, poking at
the bedding and flipping the light switch.

"Is it clean?" he asks finally, peering into the bathroom.

Yoongi snorts and shrugs. "Clean enough. The water pressure sucks though, and the pillows are
kind of lumpy."

"Okay," Namjoon says, nodding to himself. "That's doable."

It's very clear that Namjoon frequents places with names like Marriott and Hilton. Not places with
numbers in the names and advertisements for special channels and massage beds on the signs. But
he doesn't suggest they stay elsewhere, and Yoongi's pretty sure Namjoon won't strip the bed to
check the mattress for creepy crawlies while he's in the bathroom. Namjoon's being a good sport,
so Yoongi won't tease him.

Namjoon finally relaxes a little later, after they've finished the sandwiches and showered. He falls
pliant under Yoongi's lips, caged beneath him on the bed as Yoongi presses him into the mattress
and kisses him breathless. Namjoon is so warm below him, squirming as Yoongi shoves a hand
beneath his shirt, fingertips trailing up his chest.

Their mouths move wetly together, tongues tangling, panted breaths and moans filling the room.
Yoongi grinds his hips down, loving the way Namjoon’s breath hitches, the way he grips Yoongi
tighter. One of Namjoon’s big hands moves to his hair, tugging at the strands.

Yoongi breaks the kiss with an obscene pop, leaning back to try to catch his breath. Namjoon’s
hands fall back to the mattress and he stares up with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide and black.
Straddling his lap, Yoongi pushes Namjoon's shirt over his head, running his palms down the
warm, toned planes of his chest. Namjoon's skin jumps beneath his fingers, muscles tensing as
Yoongi drags his fingertips up and down.

The sound Namjoon makes when Yoongi circles his nipples is loud, a deep moan that has
Namjoon's hands flying to Yoongi's hips. He's sensitive, so responsive as Yoongi teases and
pinches the hardening buds. Fingertips slip beneath the hem of Yoongi's shirt and lift. Yoongi
raises his arms, allowing Namjoon to pull his own shirt over his head. Then Namjoon's hands are
on his shoulder blades, dragging Yoongi back down into a kiss.

They rock together, denim clad groins rutting as they grind their hips. Tongues tangle and push,
Namjoon gripping Yoongi hard as Yoongi sucks on his tongue, nibbles at his plush bottom lip.
Yoongi's so hard, his cock straining against his zipper, and he can feel that Namjoon is just the
same, hard length digging into Yoongi's thigh.

Hands scrabble at zippers and buttons until they can shove their pants off, kicking them
haphazardly off the bed. They roll together until they wind up in the same position as before,
Yoongi astride Namjoon's hips. Palms braced on Namjoon's chest, they stare at each other for a
moment, panting.

"Babe," Namjoon croaks, voice rough with lust. "I - do you want to have sex?"

Yoongi cocks his head, slow smile stretching his lips. "I assumed that was where this was
heading," he teases.

"Yeah," Namjoon agrees. "No, wait, I mean -" he breaks off, looks a little nervous.

Yoongi slides off his lap to lay beside him, fingers stroking up and down Namjoon's arm. "We
don't have to do anything if you don't want to, Joonie," Yoongi murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to
his shoulder.

Eyes fixed on the ceiling, Namjoon frowns, a furrow between his brows. "I want to, that's not the
problem." He turns his head, finally meeting Yoongi's eyes. "Will you fuck me?"

"Of course I will," Yoongi says easily, unsure why it's a big deal. "I like topping almost as much as
I like bottoming." Maybe Namjoon didn't think he'd be into that? They've talked about this before
though, Yoongi has shared that he enjoys both. Namjoon agreed, though Yoongi remembers now,
he had been a little more shy to share.

"Okay," Namjoon breathes. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "I want to bottom I just, um,
I've only bottomed a few times and I... yeah."

Oh. Oh. "Namjoon, baby, are you nervous?" Yoongi asks, voice gentle. Namjoon nods and Yoongi
presses another kiss to his shoulder. "I'm happy to bottom again, Joon, you don't have to do
something you're not comfortable with."

"No, that's just it. I am comfortable with it," Namjoon insists. "If it's you."

Warmth surges through Yoongi's chest and he smiles, squeezing Namjoon's arm. "I'll take good
care of you," he promises. Yoongi can tell this is a lot for Namjoon, something big to admit and to
trust Yoongi with. "But I want you to stop me if it's ever too much, okay?"

"Okay," Namjoon agrees. "I cleaned up in the shower just in case I, you know, worked up the
nerve to ask you..."

Yoongi smiles, pushing himself up to sit beside Namjoon on the bed. "You are very brave," his
voice is light, but Yoongi means it. It can be scary to ask for what you want, and to be so honest.
"Thank you for trusting me."

"I want you to trust me too," Namjoon whispers. "With everything."

It's Yoongi's turn to swallow hard this time. He smiles gently, stroking Namjoon's jaw with his
fingertips. "I do, Namjoon," Yoongi whispers, "I trust you."

He dips down then, keeping a hand on Namjoon's jaw as he connects their lips in a kiss. It's softer
this time, lips moving slowly as they find their rhythm again. Namjoon rolls onto his side and pulls
Yoongi down into his arms, pressing their bodies flush together. Their erections had flagged but it
doesn't take long for them to stir again, bodies sliding together as they kiss. Yoongi's flicks his
tongue over Namjoon's lips, pressing forward when Namjoon opens his mouth, tongue sliding out
to meet him halfway.

Yoongi slides his hands along Namjoon's body, mapping his curves and edges. Warm, smooth skin
beneath his palms, all his to feel and touch. He slips his hand into Namjoon's boxers, sliding down
to cup the curve of his ass. Namjoon hisses, pressing back against Yoongi's touch.

"This okay?" Yoongi whispers, their lips brushing.

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, don't stop."

Yoongi doesn't. He squeezes more firmly into Namjoon's ass cheek, feeling the skin dimple
beneath his fingers. When he slides along the skin, skimming his fingers between Namjoon's
cheeks, Namjoon gasps into his mouth.

"Let me grab lube and stuff, okay?" Yoongi says gently, pecking Namjoon's parted lips. He
withdraws his hand from Namjoon's boxers and disentangles their bodies. Namjoon lets him go
reluctantly, watching Yoongi slip off the bed.

"I have some in my bag," Namjoon says. "I packed some, you know, just in case."

With a snort, Yoongi flips open his own bag. "I did too." He fishes out the little pouch and holds it
up for Namjoon to see. "I didn't want to assume but... I really wanted this."

"My ass?" Namjoon quips, flipping onto his back.

Yoongi watches as Namjoon shimmies out of his boxers, sliding them down his legs to reveal all of
that tan skin. It's clear Namjoon spends a lot of time in the sun, golden honey skin for miles.
"Among other things," Yoongi croaks, watching Namjoon palm at his leaking cock.

Returning his attention to his bag, Yoongi pulls a bottle of lube and a condom from his pouch and
tosses it back into his suitcase. He makes his way back to the bed, pausing to step out of his own
underwear. "Ready?" he asks, placing one knee on the bed.

The teasing glint that was in Namjoon's eyes seems to have vanished and he looks nervous, a little
pale. But he swallows, nods. "Yeah, just... go slow?"

"Of course," Yoongi promises. He gets his other knee onto the bed and settles between Namjoon's
spread legs. Reaching up to the head of the bed, Yoongi grabs a pillow and slides it beneath
Namjoon's hips for a better angle. "You promise you'll stop me if it's too much?"

Namjoon nods, legs sliding along the bed as he pulls his knees up. They frame Yoongi's body,
caging him in as Namjoon stares up at him, cheeks now a brilliant shade of pink. Yoongi smiles
and slides a hand along Namjoon's calf, pausing at his knee to duck down, kissing the soft skin at
the side of his knee.

"Just relax," Yoongi whispers, "you're so tense." He coats the fingers of one hand with lube and
brings the other to Namjoon's cock, closing his palm around the heated skin. Namjoon sighs,
relaxing a little into the pillow as Yoongi begins jerking him off. "Just relax," he murmurs, pressing
more kisses to the side of Namjoon's leg, anywhere he can reach. "I'll take care of you."

Yoongi brings his lubed fingers between Namjoon's cheeks, stroking over his hole with the tip of
his index finger. Namjoon's legs immediately try to close, tightening around Yoongi's body as he
whines.

"Babe?" Yoongi calls, voice gentle. "It's okay, I've got you." He begins stroking Namjoon's cock
again, playing with the head and murmuring soft praise as he feels Namjoon slowly relax.

He tries again, lubed finger applying gentle pressure to Namjoon's rim. Namjoon squirms, a giggle
leaving his lip as he brings his hands up to cover his face. His legs twitch but don't close this time,
but he's clenching tight, not relaxed at all.

"Do you want me to stop?" Yoongi asks. Namjoon shakes his head without removing his hands
and Yoongi circles his rim lightly.

Another giggle spills from Namjoon's lips before it's cut off abruptly, a tiny whine leaving
Namjoon's mouth after. Yoongi pauses, blinking down at his boyfriend. Namjoon's chest and neck
are flushed pink, his hands are still covering his face but Yoongi is sure it's pink.

"Joonie -"

"I'm sorry," Namjoon interrupts, voice higher than normal. "I'm just so nervous, I don't mean to be
I just -" he cuts off on another nervous giggle, squirming against the sheets. "I'm really
embarrassed?"

Yoongi clicks his tongue, pad of his finger petting slowly over Namjoon's hole, trying to get him to
relax. "You don't need to be embarrassed," Yoongi soothes, "and it's normal to be nervous."

"I know, I - okay, I'm good. I'm ready."

Somehow, Yoongi isn't quite sure he believes him. But he tries again. He begins stroking
Namjoon's cock again, feeling that it's gone a little soft. Namjoon begins relaxing again, breath
evening out and legs falling open to the sides. He moans softly and Yoongi takes that as an
opportunity, applying pressure to Namjoon's rim again. The tip of his finger just barely slips in
when Namjoon laughs again, legs clamping around Yoongi's torso as he clenches down. Yoongi
immediately withdraws his finger.
"I'm sorry!" Namjoon insists.

"You don't need to be sorry," Yoongi responds. "It's okay if you don't want to do this."

Namjoon scrubs at his face with his hands and shakes his head again. Slowly, he lowers his hands,
showing his red cheeks, bitten lips. "I want to, really, Yoongi. I'm just - I don't know why I'm so
nervous."

"Do you... do you think it might help if you weren't looking at me?"

Namjoon considers, blinking rapidly. "Maybe? Not that I don't want to see you, I obviously do
but... that might help?"

"Okay." Yoongi leans back. "Whatever you're comfortable with, but we can stop if you want to.
Really."

"I don't want to stop. Just let me - let me turn over." Yoongi nods, giving Namjoon an encouraging
smile.

Namjoon flops onto his stomach, pillow still beneath his hips, as he settles his cheek against his
arms. It's not the best angle, Namjoon flat on his stomach, though the pillow helps a bit.

Tentatively, Yoongi pulls one of Namjoon's cheeks to the side, exposing his hole. It clenches as
Yoongi watches, then relaxes again. "It's just me, okay?" Yoongi whispers. "I'll make you feel
good, just relax."

This way does seem to be easier, Namjoon only giggling and tensing a few times before he relaxes
enough for Yoongi to make some progress. Slowly, Yoongi slides the tip of a finger into him,
wiggling it around a bit before pushing in to the first knuckle. He rubs his other hand against
Namjoon's hip, trying to soothe him. "You're doing so well," he encourages, "does that feel okay?"

"Yeah," Namjoon responds, voice muffled by his arms. "Just feels a little weird."

"That's okay," Yoongi is quick to reassure him. "You've liked it when you've bottomed before,
been fingered?"

Namjoon nods into his arms. "Yeah, I - sometimes I play with myself a little too." A pause, his
voice is shy, embarrassed. "I like how it feels."

"Me too," Yoongi agrees, trying not to lose himself in the thought of Namjoon fingering himself.
"Just relax, it'll feel good soon, okay?"

Another nod, Namjoon turning his face to hide in his arms. He giggles a few more times as Yoongi
begins slowly sliding his finger in and out. The nervousness bubbling out of him in bursts of bright
laughter that start to fade, turn into hitches of breath. Yoongi can feel Namjoon relaxing, body
falling pliant as he relaxes into Yoongi’s touch.

“Doing okay?” Yoongi asks. Namjoon nods and Yoongi shifts slightly. “Are you ready for a
second finger?” Another nod. The tips of Namjoon’s ears are bright red.

Yoongi pulls his finger out to the tip and lines up a second beside it. “Deep breath in,” he urges.
“Good, and let it out.” As the air whooshes from Namjoon’s body, Yoongi slides in a second
finger. Namjoon tenses at first, hole clenching around Yoongi’s fingers and another giggle muffled
into his arms.
“My big baby,” Yoongi murmurs, “you’re doing well. Just relax.”

Yoongi has never really considered himself a patient person, though he supposes he must be. He
managed to last over a year without meeting Namjoon, though that was torturous. But for this,
Namjoon beneath him, fluttering hole sucking in two of Yoongi’s fingers, he can be. He takes his
time, going slowly as he lets Namjoon adjust, gets him used to the sensations. Namjoon said he’s
only bottomed a few times, but he didn’t say when the last time was. Probably a while, though it
sounds like he’s played with himself more recently.

As he begins scissoring his fingers and moving a bit more quickly, Namjoon starts to respond. Soft
moans and shivers, breathy gasps as Yoongi strokes along his walls. His hips move a little, chasing
the sensation as he presses back against Yoongi’s fingers. It doesn’t even seem like Namjoon is
aware he’s doing it. Yoongi moves backwards a bit on the bed as Namjoon begins to press back to
meet him more, hips lifting off the mattress.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes. “Another?”

Yoongi slides a third finger past his rim. Namjoon hisses, clenching for just a moment, but he
doesn’t giggle this time, doesn’t tense as much. “That’s it,” Yoongi praises, “you’re doing so well.”
He takes a moment to appreciate his boyfriend, the long line of his body laid across the bed. “You
look so good like this.”

A whine, barely audible, comes from the cradle of Namjoon’s arms and Yoongi smiles. Yoongi
adjusts his positioning, crooking his fingers as he thrusts in. Namjoon gasps, head flying off his
arms and hips kicking up.

“Fuck,” Namjoon grunts, thighs quivering. “Fuck, that -”

“Forget what it feels like?” Yoongi teases.

Namjoon whines again, louder this time. “Do it again?”

Who is Yoongi to say no? He angles his fingers for that same spot, brushing over Namjoon’s
prostate with each thrust. Namjoon moans beneath him, fingers tightening on his arms as he gasps
for air. He arches his back, nearly lifting off the mattress. Namjoon’s hips kick back, trying to
chase after the pleasure. Yoongi’s eyes widen, pleasantly surprised, when Namjoon pushes himself
onto his knees, ass up with his face still buried in the mattress.

Yoongi’s cock throbs between his legs, hard and flushed red. It aches for relief, for any kind of
friction. But Yoongi ignores the ache, focusing only on Namjoon. He wants Namjoon to feel good,
wants to make this good for him. Yoongi can wait.

Leaning in, Yoongi brushes a kiss to the base of Namjoon’s spine, still keeping his fingers moving.
Namjoon doesn’t even seem aware that he’s moved, presenting himself for a better angle. Yoongi
spreads his fingers, stroking along Namjoon’s walls as his boyfriend thrusts back against him,
whimpering into the mattress.

“You ready for me?” Yoongi asks, fingers stilling inside of Namjoon.

Namjoon takes a shaky breath, nodding his face into the sheets. “Yeah,” he rasps, “please.”

“Do you want to turn over?”

There’s a moment of quiet and a hitch of breath as Yoongi withdraws his fingers. “I - maybe like
this? I’m still kind of…”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi says immediately. He’d prefer to see Namjoon’s face, but he just wants him to
be comfortable. “Move back a little?”

Yoongi slides off the bed and holds Namjoon’s hips, helping him move backwards until he’s on
the edge of the bed. Reaching back to the blankets, Yoongi picks up the condom and tears the
wrapper open with his teeth. He shudders, holding in a groan, as he strokes himself a few times.
His dick twitches in his hand, sticky and wet with precum, skin feverishly hot. The friction feels
almost overwhelming after being neglected for so long. He rolls the condom down his length and
slicks himself with lube.

“Tell me if it’s too much?” Yoongi waits for Namjoon’s nod before lining himself up. His toes dig
into the shaggy carpeting as he grips Namjoon’s hip with one hand, teasing his cock over
Namjoon’s hole with the other. It’s slick and shiny with lube, stretched and ready.

Letting out a shaky breath, Yoongi pushes forward, breath catching in his chest as the tip slips past
Namjoon’s rim. If it’s been a while since Namjoon’s bottomed, it’s probably been just as long since
Yoongi topped. Yoongi knows how he looks, what most guys would consider him to enjoy. He’s
never really made waves about it, content to play that role, enjoying the feeling either way. But
sometimes it’s nice to be here as well, to feel the way Namjoon’s body tightens around him,
sucking him in.

Yoongi presses forward slowly, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed, hips flush to Namjoon’s
ass. His body thrums with pleasure, eyes squeezing closed as he tries to hold himself back. He
could probably come right now, cock squeezed so perfectly inside Namjoon’s body. And the view,
fuck. Namjoon’s back arched, ass in the air, face still buried in his arms. His skin dewy with sweat,
a light trembling in his limbs. Gorgeous, perfect. It still doesn’t seem entirely real.

“You can -” Namjoon hiccups, “you can move.”

Another shaky breath in and out, and Yoongi rolls his hips experimentally. His cock drags along
Namjoon’s walls, pleasure nearly overwhelming. Namjoon moans beneath him, hands scrabbling
in the sheets. Yoongi pulls nearly all the way out, then slides back in, groaning at the feeling.

He starts slow, deep rolls of his hips as he thrusts in and out of Namjoon. His cock plunges in and
out of him, Namjoon’s rim stretched puffy and dusky pink around Yoongi’s length. The sight alone
could make him come, and the feelings along with it have him panting. They moan together,
Namjoon rolling his hips back to meet each of Yoongi’s thrusts.

There’s no giggling this time, no nervous whimpers or laughter, just pleasure. Both of them swept
away, nerves on fire and minds numb as they chase the feeling. It’s so good, amazing, but not
perfect.

“Baby,” Yoongi croaks, voice raw and fucked out already, “I wanna see you.”

Namjoon stills and Yoongi stops rolling his hips, stroking up and down Namjoon’s spine as his
boyfriend considers. “Okay,” he says finally. “Yeah, I wanna see you too.”

Yoongi pulls out, holding in a whimper at the loss. He helps Namjoon roll over, repositioning the
pillow beneath his hips. Their eyes meet as Yoongi slides back into him, Namjoon’s teary and a
little wild. Beneath the wildness, the lust, Yoongi can see the trust, the love. Namjoon trusting him
wholly, with something that had him so nervous, something so personal. If Namjoon can do it,
strong, brave Namjoon, maybe Yoongi can too.

Sliding his hands along Namjoon’s legs, Yoongi grips behind his knees and lifts them. Namjoon
moves easily, pliant as clay beneath his hands. His ankles hook over Yoongi’s shoulders, his big
buff boyfriend splayed out beneath him, whining and nearly crying as Yoongi begins fucking into
him again. Deep thrusts, faster now, pounding into Namjoon’s tight heat. He adjusts his grip on
Namjoon’s legs, hitching his hips a bit higher and Namjoon gasps, hole clenching.

“Right there,” he rasps, eyes rolling back.

Yoongi obeys, fingers pressing into Namjoon’s legs as he thrusts into him, angling to hit
Namjoon’s prostate at every thrust. It’s loud, the squelch of lube and slap of skin drowned out by
their moans. A cacophony loud enough that Yoongi hopes the walls are at least a little soundproof.
They’re building to a crescendo, Namjoon’s hole fluttering around him, lips parted and tongue
lolling as he gasps for more, Yoon, harder.

More, harder, more. Yoongi gives it to him, pistoning his hips as heat builds inside of him. His
body is on fire, sparks and embers bursting through him. He lets go of one of Namjoon’s legs,
bringing his hand to Namjoon’s cock instead. Wrapping his fingers around the precum-wet skin,
Yoongi strokes and squeezes.

Namjoon arches off the bed, keening as his orgasm hits him at the faintest brush of Yoongi’s
fingers. His release paints his stomach and chest, coating Yoongi’s fist as he gasps for air. Yoongi
moans as Namjoon clenches around him, clamping around his cock. He buries himself deep,
gritting his teeth as his own release hits him. A truck barreling into him, vision blurring as his hips
stutter and jerk and he fills the condom.

He slumps, knees barely holding him up against the bed as he tries to relearn how to breathe. They
pant together, hearts hammering.

Namjoon reaches out a hand, brushing over Yoongi’s hip. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m good,” Yoongi whispers, “really good.” He shifts, moves to pull out, his brain coming back
online. He remembers that he was supposed to be taking care of Namjoon, not the other way
around. He’s gentle as he pulls out, taking notice of the way Namjoon flinches just a little. “Are
you okay?”

“So okay,” Namjoon breathes, legs dropping to hang over the bed as Yoongi lowers them. “Felt so
good.”

Yoongi smiles. “Good, that was - you were fucking hot.” Namjoon laughs softly, cheeks pink, and
Yoongi’s smile widens. “I’m gonna get a towel, okay?”

“Hurry back?”

“Of course,” Yoongi promises.

He stumbles to the bathroom, legs shaky and nearly numb. He clicks the light on, blinking in the
harsh glow of the fluorescents above the mirror. His cheeks are pink, eyes wide and lips red and
bitten. He looks like a sweaty mess, feels like a sweaty mess, but also feels amazing.

Yoongi cleans himself up quickly, disposing of the condom and washing his hands. He wets one of
the hand towels in the sink and moves back to the bedroom.

Namjoon is where he left him, sprawled on his back with his eyes closed. Kneeling beside him,
 Yoongi wipes the towel gently over his skin. They’re quiet as Yoongi cleans him up, neither of
them speaking until Yoongi tosses the towel away and sits back on his heels.

“Want to get under the blankets?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon licks his lips. “My limbs feel like jelly, help?”

Yoongi giggles but agrees, helping Namjoon shift and getting him settled under the blankets. He
crawls in after him, curling around Namjoon’s flushed chest.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Yoongi whispers, kissing the side of Namjoon’s neck.

Namjoon’s fingers find Yoongi’s hair, stroking gently through the strands. “I always trust you,” he
responds, voice thick with tiredness. "I'm sorry I was so…" he trails off.

"You were perfect," Yoongi insists, nuzzling into Namjoon's skin.

“I love you. Just want you to -” he breaks off on a yawn, “want you to trust me too…” he trails off,
voice fading as sleep takes him.

Yoongi cuddles tighter against him. He knows he needs to be better, wants to be better for
Namjoon. He does trust Namjoon, wants to let him in, show him everything. Maybe he can, even if
it’s little bits at a time, he wants to try. “I love you,” he whispers against Namjoon’s skin as he falls
asleep.

Chapter End Notes

Twitter!
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist and follow along on the journey Here!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"You sure you're okay?" Yoongi asks, running his hands up and down Namjoon's back.

Namjoon grimaces but nods, leaning forward a little into Yoongi's chest. He's too big for it,
covering Yoongi's smaller form and blocking all of the hot water. But Yoongi doesn't mind, just
shuffles back a little so the spray of the shower can hit Namjoon's lower back. Namjoon sighs,
forehead leaning against Yoongi's as he slumps further.

They had been woken rather abruptly by voices and movement in the room next door. After a
shared look of embarrassed shock, the walls seemed to be extremely thin, they giggled together at
the absurdity of it. Then Namjoon pushed forward, moving to roll onto Yoongi and cage him in
with his body - but froze, wincing in pain.

He was sore, from thighs to lower back, a dull ache that throbbed through him. Yoongi apologized
profusely but Namjoon smiled shyly, kissing him softly, and promised it was worth it. He hadn't
meant to go so hard the night before, should have kept it slow and gentle, but Namjoon had asked
for it and Yoongi found it hard to hold back.

Yoongi had gently helped Namjoon from the bed, plying him with kisses and promises of a back
rub, until he finally sat up. Namjoon grumbled until Yoongi took pity on him, sliding in behind
him and massaging his lower back for a few minutes as he hunched over the edge of the bed. And
after more kisses and gentle prodding, they made it to the shower.

It's not very big, the two of them cramped into the small, slippery shower. Stained, cracked tiles
and a torn curtain. Horrible water pressure on a showerhead that is too low for Namjoon, but at
least it's hot. Yoongi holds Namjoon, leaning his back against the far shower wall, ignoring the
sting of the cold tiles against his skin. Namjoon nudges their noses together, pursing his lips for a
kiss.

They kiss softly, gentle and slow, as Yoongi kneads his fingers into Namjoon's back, the tops of his
thighs, the curve of his ass. Namjoon hisses, wincing again, but doesn't ask Yoongi to stop.

"I think I have some painkillers in my bag," Yoongi murmurs against Namjoon's lips.

Namjoon nods, their noses sliding together. "This helps, but that sounds good too." Droplets from
Namjoon's hair drip onto Yoongi's cheeks and run down his nose. He blinks them away and kisses
Namjoon again.

Once Namjoon feels some of the achiness subsiding, they take turns washing each other. They're
much more thorough than they need to be, Namjoon's long fingers stroking over Yoongi's half-hard
cock, fondling his balls. "Don't tease," Yoongi grunts, biting his lip.

"Just cleaning you up," Namjoon responds, a coy smile tugging the corner of his lips up on one
side. "You're very dirty."

Namjoon's touch has Yoongi hard in seconds, has him coming into Namjoon's hand in minutes. He
whimpers through it, trying to muffle his moans of pleasure now that they know how thin the walls
are.

Yoongi sinks to his knees after, licking over Namjoon's cockhead before swallowing him down. He
bobs his head, laving his tongue over Namjoon's length before pulling back to tease at the tip.

Namjoon grips his cock by the base, stroking himself as Yoongi suckles at the head. "Can I?"

Closing his eyes, Yoongi nods and opens his mouth, tongue lolling out. It only takes a few strokes
of Namjoon’s hand before sticky warmth paints Yoongi's face, some catching on his tongue. He
swallows and licks his lips, scrunching his nose at the feeling of the cum on his cheeks and the
bridge of his nose.

Namjoon pulls him to his feet and cleans him up gently, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. They
wash each other's hair after, Yoongi's eyes nearly rolling in his head at the feeling of Namjoon's
nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

After spending much longer than intended in the shower, they finally get out, the small bathroom
filling with steam when they open the curtain. The scratchy towels are thin and it feels like it takes
ages to dry off, but they manage. They brush their teeth side by side, smiling around mouthfuls of
toothpaste as their eyes meet in the mirror. It's domestic, making Yoongi's heart lurch in his chest,
butterflies erupt in his belly.

"I'll find you the painkillers," Yoongi says as they make their way into the bedroom after.

He crouches next to his bag, pulling out clothes for the day and hunting for the bottle of Advil he
had tossed in somewhere. He turns to look over his shoulder when he hears a wince, finding
Namjoon grimacing as he bends to pull up his shorts.

"I'm good," Namjoon promises, meeting his eyes before looking quickly away.

Yoongi pulls the bottle of pills from his bag along with another, quickly swallowing one of his
antidepressants dry. Namjoon knows he takes them, they've talked about it before. But it's
something Yoongi still feels weird about, something he doesn't entirely need Namjoon to see.
Namjoon's words about wanting Yoongi to trust him replay in his mind and Yoongi frowns at
himself, knows he's not making it easy for either of them.

"Thank you," Namjoon says, taking the bottle. He swallows a few and washes them down with a
warm bottle of water. "So," he says after handing the pill bottle back. "Breakfast?"

"The hotel doesn't do a breakfast buffet," Yoongi says quickly.

Namjoon blinks at him. "I know," he says gently, "you told me before. I just meant maybe we
could get some?"

"Oh, right." Yoongi pulls on a t-shirt and zips up his bag. "I'm sure there's a diner or something
where we can grab some food." Maybe some diner eggs, somewhere quick and cheap. Yoongi has
enough money for eggs from a diner, a few cups of coffee. He’s not broke, but he’s getting there.
The balance in his bank account is draining fast, barely $500 remaining. It’s enough to get back,
enough to eat and afford gas. Selling all of his furniture and his car will help, so he can splurge for
now, just a little.
They heft their bags and head out into the morning sunshine, squinting at the brightness. Namjoon
tosses his bag in his trunk and pauses at his driver's side door, frowning at it.

Yoongi blinks at him, then snorts. "How are you going to sit in the car for three hours at a time?"

"Maybe we can take more breaks?" Namjoon suggests, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Anything you need," Yoongi promises, stepping over to him to squeeze his hand. "Maybe
deciding to bottom for the first time in..."

Namjoon grimaces. "Three years?"

"Damn." Yoongi whistles. "Yeah, getting fucked in the ass the night before another nine-hour drive
was probably a bad idea."

"Thank you, Professor Min," Namjoon huffs, "I am realizing that." He shrugs. "Still can't be mad,"
he admits, "it felt good."

Yoongi feels himself flushing. "I'm glad I made you feel good." He leans in to brush his lips
against Namjoon's cheek. "I would happily do that again. Or any way you want."

"Road head?" Namjoon suggests with a sly grin.

"I will not get decapitated for your pleasure, Namjoon," Yoongi huffs. "Also we’re not even in the
same car. I’m not going to abandon my car in Virginia so you can get off.” Namjoon rolls his eyes
and Yoongi pats his cheek. “Now get comfy, let's get breakfast while you can still sit down, the
booths in most diners aren't padded."

Yoongi shifts in his seat, smiling softly as he hums along to the song playing through his speakers.
Miles and States by Abandoning Sunday. Something he had put on for a little hope after they had
left, to remind him that they’d be together again someday. Something to hold him over while he
sobbed on the way home, which he assumed he would be doing for the entire thousand-mile
journey. But now they’re together, they’re going to be together.

The smile slips as the music cuts off abruptly, Bluetooth switching to the strident ring of an
incoming call. Seokjin. He shifts again in his seat, debates on ignoring it. That would be stupid. He
hits the button to connect the call and is greeted with a loud sigh.

“Four rings, Yoongi,” Seokjin drawls, “I thought you were going to ignore me.” Yoongi doesn’t
respond and Seokjin snorts. “But of course you wouldn’t do that to me, right?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi responds

Seokjin hums softly, clearly not believing him. “How close are you?”

Yoongi glances at the GPS. “Another four or so hours, depending on traffic on the Pike. Hopefully
before seven?”

“Alright, Hobi and I will bring over dinner.” He pauses. “Unless you’d prefer to be alone and not
see your best friends who you are abandoning for a virtual stranger?”

Hands tightening on the wheel, Yoongi fights down a wave of guilt. “I want to see you,” he
mumbles. And he means it. He’s going to miss his best friends, he missed them while he was away
for a few days. “I’m going to miss you,” Yoongi adds, “you know that, right?”

“I guess,” Seokjin says finally, sounding a little mollified. “How’s the drive?”

“It’s alright, just long. We’re going to stop in a bit for some food and to take a break. Namjoon’s
sore so he can’t -”

“Ew,” Seokjin interrupts. “Please do not continue and please do not tell me why he’s sore.”

Yoongi huffs, rolling his eyes. “He could have pulled a muscle.”

“Did he?”

Yoongi hesitates. “No…”

“Horrid. You’re like a little sex gremlin now, aren’t you? You were celibate for so long, only your
hand for company. Now you’re a heathen.”

“You’re no better,” Yoongi accuses.

“I,” Seokjin begins haughtily, “am a married man. You’re a harlot.”

It feels nice, to talk to Seokjin normally. His best friend doesn’t seem as angry as before. Yoongi
will miss this, will miss afternoons and evenings with his friends, the easy company. But it's not
enough to make him stay, Hoseok and Seokjin are Hoseok and Seokjin, the Seoks. And Yoongi
was the third wheel gazing longingly at their love. But not anymore.

"Promise you'll be nice to Namjoon?"

"Of course I'll be nice to Namjoon," Seokjin huffs. "What do you take me for?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Please do not stab him with your tiny knife. Or poison him."

"Am I even allowed to speak to him?" Seokjin snaps. "So many rules!"

"Asking you not to murder my boyfriend is not asking a lot, Jin."

A huff, and a chuckle, then Seokjin’s voice again. “Fine, whatever. Hoseok is at your apartment
now, he said he was going to tidy up.”

“He doesn’t need to do that,” Yoongi insists, “I picked up before I left.”

“Not to Hobi’s standards,” Seokjin points out. Probably true. “I’m sure he’s doing a three-step
sanitizing process on your doorknobs right now. I told him to change your sheets since there’s
probably a cum crust on them.”

Yoongi scowls out the windshield. “You make me sound awful, I’m not gross!” Seokjin just
chuckles and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Thank you both. Anything else?”

“Have you had any interest in your furniture and car?”

“I have,” Yoongi responds. “Someone is coming to look at the car tomorrow and I’ve sold the
couch and chair I think.” It’ll help. He’ll have a few thousand dollars in his empty pockets,
something small to start over with in Denver. He will not mooch off Namjoon. Yoongi told
Namjoon he wants to split things, pay half the rent, groceries, utilities, and anything else. Namjoon
had reluctantly agreed, though Yoongi could tell it might be a fight later. “Thanks for sending the
pictures over,” Yoongi adds.

“You’re welcome.” There’s a pause then, Yoongi blinking through the windshield at the highway
ahead of him. He can tell Seokjin isn’t done. “I want to talk to you when you get back,” Seokjin
says, his voice serious now. The teasing edge is gone and Yoongi stiffens, holds in a sigh. “How
many days will you be in Boston?”

Fingers tightening on the steering wheel, Yoongi fights to keep his voice even. “A few,” he says.
“I’m not positive yet. What do you want to talk about?” Maybe if he plays dumb…

“Don’t play coy,” Seokjin deadpans. “You know what I want to talk to you about. You promised
you’d think about all of this, I want to –,”

A loud beep cuts Seokjin off. Yoongi blinks at the screen, seeing Namjoon’s name pop up. “Sorry,
Jin, Namjoon is calling.” Yoongi sends a silent thank you to Namjoon. “It might be important. We
can talk when I’m back, okay?”

“Fine,” Seokjin snaps, and then he’s gone, hanging up without another word.

Yoongi presses the button to accept Namjoon’s call. “How’s your ass?” he asks by way of
greeting.

“Just great, thanks,” Namjoon quips. He can hear the smile in his boyfriend’s voice and when he
glances in the rearview mirror, he can see it for real. “You know you’re not as funny as you think
you are?”

“I am a delight and you know it.” Yoongi reluctantly pulls his eyes back to the road. “You
hungry?”

“Starving,” Namjoon responds. “There’s a rest area in a few miles. Want to stop?”

Yoongi agrees easily. “I need to pee, let’s do it.”

When they stop a few minutes later, Yoongi peppers Namjoon’s cheeks with kisses when he
winces getting out of his car. “You did this to me,” Namjoon huffs.

“By your request,” Yoongi retorts. He smiles, leaning into Namjoon’s chest and hooking his
fingers in the belt loops of Namjoon’s shorts. “You can return the favor next time.”

Namjoon’s eyes flash and he smiles, glancing around them to see if anyone is watching. When he’s
satisfied, he sweeps a hand down Yoongi’s back, quickly squeezing his ass. “Gladly. Do you think
the family bathrooms at these rest areas are -”

“Do not finish that thought,” Yoongi laughs, pushing away and grabbing Namjoon’s hand to lead
him into the building.

When Yoongi comes out of the bathroom, he finds Namjoon already sitting at the table, a heaping
tray in front of him. “I’m gonna go order something,” Yoongi says, mentally calculating what’s in
his checking account. It’s enough for a meal, gas for the rest of the way back, snacks if they
needed them. It’s not enough if his car breaks down on the side of the highway though, which
could always happen. He’s trying to be cautious, to prepare for every just in case.

Yoongi doesn’t have any of the money from selling his furniture yet, it could fall through. And he
doesn’t want to dip into that anyway, determined to use it for Colorado. He’ll need to pay rent and
utilities and it could take him some time to find a job. It’s important that he has enough to get by
for a couple of months.

“I got enough for both of us,” Namjoon says before Yoongi can walk away.

Yoongi frowns down at the tray. It is an obscene amount of food. Hamburgers, nuggets, fries, two
sodas and a chicken sandwich that Namjoon is biting into. “I can get my own,” he hedges. There’s
a strange feeling that Yoongi will owe Namjoon if he eats this food. He is aware that it’s not the
case, that he’s being ridiculous, but he feels better when he pays for his own, or if they trade off.
It’s unhealthy, probably, keeping tallies and accounts of what he might owe his boyfriend, but it’s
hard not to consider it.

“I got it,” Namjoon says around a mouthful of chicken and bread. “Eat.”

Namjoon says it so casually, as if purchasing what looks like fifty dollars’ worth of McDonald’s is
no big deal. Maybe to him it isn’t. Reluctantly, Yoongi slides into the chair across from Namjoon
and looks at the tray. He picks up a box of nuggets and pulls it toward him. “I’ll pay you back.”

“I said I got it,” Namjoon insists, giving Yoongi a confused look. “Just let me treat you, okay?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond and Namjoon sighs, setting down his sandwich. “You said you’d let me
help,” Namjoon says gently. “Please just let your boyfriend buy you fast food, Yoongi. It’s not a
big deal.”

It should be easy to say yes, but Yoongi still struggles to nod. As silly and inconsequential as it
might seem to Namjoon, this is a big deal for Yoongi. “Okay,” he says finally, voice small.

“Good,” Namjoon replies, beaming at him. “Now dig in.”

As Boston’s skyline comes into view, Yoongi releases a breath, slumping in his seat. It’s
bittersweet, seeing the city he’s called home his entire life. But it hasn’t felt that way in so long,
has never been somewhere Yoongi has loved. None of his family are even in Boston anymore, his
parents down South and his brother in California. The bridge looms before him and Yoongi does
not feel comfort as the familiar buildings and billboards take shape, he only feels a pull to leave
again.

He keeps one eye on the rearview mirror, making sure Namjoon is behind him as he navigates the
tunnels and turns to the West End. He spots Hoseok and Seokjin’s car as he pulls onto the street,
thankfully finding a few additional parking spaces. Yoongi pulls into one and Namjoon parks
behind him, smiling at him through his windshield. Yoongi turns off his car and sits frozen in his
seat. He swallows hard, hands on the wheel as he stares down at his lap.

It suddenly feels real, everything, all of it. Now that he’s back in his neighborhood, his apartment
building looming above him. He is in Boston and Namjoon is with him, he is going to pack up his
life and finally get out of here. A new adventure. The fear weighs on him, keeping him in his seat.
Licking his lips, Yoongi tries to pry his hands off the wheel. He can do this. All he needs is –

“Here he is!”

The car door is yanked open and hands are on him, tugging him out of the vehicle. Yoongi is
thankful he removed his seatbelt before this or he might have been strangled. For a moment he
thinks he’s being robbed, then he’s pulled against a firm chest, arms squeezing him as someone
coos in his ear. Hoseok.

“Yoongi!” Namjoon’s voice is concerned. “Are you –“ he cuts off, seeming to realize whatever is
happening isn’t a kidnapping.

“We missed you,” Hoseok murmurs against Yoongi’s temple.

It hurts, all of them know Yoongi isn’t staying. “Missed you too, Hobi,” he says, gently patting
Hoseok’s back. He manages to disentangle himself and leans back, glancing around. Seokjin is
standing a few feet away on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his chest, frowning in displeasure. His
eyes are fixed on Namjoon.

“Hey Seokjin,” Yoongi greets, stepping to the side until he can get to Namjoon. He slips his hand
through his boyfriend’s, unsure if the support is more for Namjoon or himself. “Guys, meet
Namjoon.”

They’ve all talked before, via telephone and video calls. Namjoon has met his friends, vaguely
knows them and has heard plenty of stories. But this is new and something Yoongi isn’t really
prepared for. Forty-eight hours was not enough time to figure out how to introduce your boyfriend
to your overprotective best friends. Especially when they believed said boyfriend was stealing
Yoongi away.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Namjoon says, lifting his free hand to wave. He’s smiling, dimples
popping, but Yoongi can see he looks a bit nervous. Anyone would wither a little beneath Seokjin’s
piercing gaze.

Hoseok, thankfully, is wonderful as always. He beams and crosses to them, pulling Namjoon into a
firm hug. “We’re so happy to meet you in person,” he chirps. “Welcome to the Hub.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname for the city, it’s never felt like the Hub of the Universe to
him.

“Jinnie and I have been wanting to meet you forever,” Hoseok continues as he lets Namjoon go.
“You make our Yoonie so happy, we obviously needed to see what all the fuss was about.”

“He makes me happy, too,” Namjoon says, smiling fondly down at Yoongi. “I’m very lucky.”

From a few feet away, Seokjin snorts, but he seems to have softened a little. He steps forward and
extends his hand. “Seokjin,” he introduces himself, “charmed, I’m sure.”

“Yoongi’s told me so much about you and Hoseok,” Namjoon says with another smile, shaking
Seokjin’s hand. “It feels like we already know each other.”

Seokjin squints at him, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Probably all bad,” he huffs.

“Jin…” Yoongi warns, glaring at his best friend. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I said I wouldn’t murder him,” Seokjin corrects, “not that I’d be nice.”

Namjoon blinks, hand finding Yoongi’s again as he rocks back on his heels. “Um…”

“He’s kidding!” Hoseok says from beside them, clapping his hands for everyone’s attention. “Let
us help you with your bags and we can all go inside. We brought pizza.”

Seokjin shoots one last suspicious glance Namjoon’s way before moving to Yoongi’s car and
opening the trunk. Yoongi turns his head to find Namjoon staring at him with wide eyes. He gives
Namjoon what he hopes is an encouraging smile and a quick thumbs up. “Don’t worry,” he
whispers, “he’s harmless.”

Yoongi mostly believes his own words.

Seokjin thaws. Slowly, but surely, Yoongi watches his best friend melt. It's impossible not to,
Yoongi thinks, in the face of Namjoon's bright, dimpled smile and earnest personality. They sit in
Yoongi's living room and eat pizza, talking about Nashville and the eclipse. Namjoon is beside
Yoongi on the couch, thigh pressed against his, one arm thrown casually over Yoongi's shoulders.

"We left this morning and Mr. Comedian here -" He squeezes Yoongi's shoulders, shaking him a
little, "told me to look out for moose!" Namjoon says loudly, Hoseok and Seokjin hanging on his
every word. "And then, I shit you not, we saw one just a couple hours ago!"

Hoseok gasps, gripping Seokjin's arm as he leans in. Even Seokjin is enthralled, enjoying the
stories Namjoon and Yoongi have been telling about their trip. It's clear that Seokjin is trying to
pretend he's not interested, maintain his cool exterior, but he's visibly failing.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, poking Namjoon in the side. "Babe," he chides, "that was a deer."

"Well," Namjoon says sheepishly, "it was a really big deer."

"Sure, Joonie," Yoongi agrees, leaning in to peck Namjoon on the cheek. It should feel weird
probably, he's never been big on PDA, especially in front of his friends. But Yoongi can't help but
want to touch Namjoon, be close to him. The casual affection feels so good, fills him with warmth.
Yoongi's pretty sure he hasn't stopped smiling since they got inside.

Across from them, Seokjin clears his throat and moves to stand. "I'm going to clean up a bit.
Yoongi do you want to help -"

"I'll help!" Namjoon announces, springing to his feet. "Let me help," he says more quietly, cheeks
pink.

Seokjin tongues at the inside of his cheek, considering. He glances at Yoongi, then back at
Namjoon, before finally sighing. "Alright, come on then."

They gather plates and garbage and head for the kitchen, Namjoon following dutifully behind
Seokjin. Once they disappear into the other room, Hoseok gets up and sidesteps the coffee table
between them, plopping down beside Yoongi.

"Well," Hoseok breathes, wrapping both arms around Yoongi in a tight hug. "I'm sold. He's
fantastic."

Yoongi smiles, leaning into the hug. "You like him?"

"I already liked him," Hoseok answers, "from when we've spoken before but… yeah, he seems
great Yoongi." He cuddles closer, throwing both legs over Yoongi's lap. "He's good for you."

"I think so too," Yoongi admits. "He makes me feel good, happy."

Hoseok brushes a kiss against Yoongi's temple. "You deserve to be happy." Hoseok pulls back to
look at him. "I understand, you know. Why you have to do this."
"Do you?"

"I do," Hoseok says with a nod. "I know why you want to leave, you've wanted to for years.
Especially after what happened with you know who."

"That's part of it," Yoongi agrees, "but not everything." He frowns, unsure how to phrase it. "It's
not like I'm trying to run away from that asshole, I barely think about him anymore, it's just…
everything Boston represents for me."

"And I get it. Obviously I don't want you to go but I support you, Namjoon's a good guy."

"Thank you, Hobi," Yoongi whispers, throat feeling a little tight. "I'm sorry about what I said
before, that there was nothing here for me. I didn't -"

Hoseok squeezes him tighter, clicking his tongue. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it that way."

They're quiet for a moment and then Yoongi shifts, leaning his head against Hoseok's chest. "What
about Seokjin?"

"Don't worry about Jinnie," Hoseok says softly. "He's never going to be thrilled about it, but he
understands too." He pauses. "He just worries."

"I know. But I think this will be good for me. I'll miss you guys but…" he trails off.

"But you need to take this chance," Hoseok finishes. "We know. Besides," Hoseok flashes him a
quick smile and a wink. "I think Namjoon's winning him over."

Just then, as if to confirm Hoseok's point, Seokjin's loud, squeaky laughter can be heard from the
kitchen.

A little while later, Yoongi and Namjoon walk Hoseok and Seokjin to the door. They're visibly
exhausted after the long day and Hoseok and Seokjin take pity on them.

"Call tomorrow if you need anything," Hoseok insists. "I'm working from home, but we'll both be
around Saturday. We'll be over at six unless you text us a different time."

For Yoongi's going away party. Something they won't allow Yoongi to say no to. He had finally
relented after a large dose of Hoseok's puppy dog eyes.

"Sounds good, see you."

While Hoseok is busy giving Namjoon a hug, Seokjin traps Yoongi in the doorway. He pulls
Yoongi into a tight hug. "I like him," he murmurs. Yoongi's heart soars. "But we still need to talk."
And it drops again.

"Okay," Yoongi whispers as they pull back. "Saturday."

Seokjin nods and tugs at Hoseok until he finally lets go of Namjoon. "Good night."

"Night," Yoongi and Namjoon chorus together, watching the door swing closed behind them.

"God," Namjoon exclaims, slumping slightly. "That was nerve wracking. I thought Seokjin was
trying to set me on fire with his eyes."
Yoongi laughs and locks the door. "Maybe at first," he concedes. "But he told me he likes you."

Namjoon beams at him. "They're really great, Yoongi. They love you a lot."

"Yeah, they're alright." Yoongi suddenly feels a little shy. They're alone and Namjoon is in his
shitty little apartment. Dingy and drab, barely nicer than their motel room. "Do you want to shower
or…"

"Honestly," Namjoon begins, stifling a yawn. "I'd rather just sleep. I'm so tired and I'm still sore."

Yoongi pushes onto his toes to press a gentle kiss to Namjoon's lips. "Bed it is. Come on." He
draws Namjoon through the living room to his bedroom, pushing open the door. The room is small
but clean enough, his bed and desk, a dresser, his closed closet. The blinds are already drawn, the
lamp on his bedside table turned on.

Namjoon has seen his bedroom plenty of times through a screen, but Yoongi can't help but be a
little embarrassed about it, about all of his apartment. Compared to what he's seen of Namjoon's,
Yoongi's apartment is barely nicer than the motel they stayed in.

When he turns, Namjoon has taken off his shirt and is unzipping his shorts. "Are you sleeping in
your jeans?" Namjoon teases.

Yoongi feels himself flush. "No, I-" he licks his lips. "I'm sorry it's not much."

"What's not?" Namjoon asks, clearly confused.

"My apartment. It's not… you know."

Namjoon kicks his shorts away and steps up until he and Yoongi are toe to toe. "I like your
apartment," Namjoon says as he brings his fingers to the fastenings of Yoongi's pants, tugging at
zipper and button. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I don't know," Yoongi murmurs, stepping out of his pants as Namjoon pulls them down. "I'm just
tired I guess."

Yoongi blinks his bangs out of his eyes as Namjoon pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it onto
the floor. "My apartment is way messier," Namjoon admits, backing Yoongi towards the bed.
"You're going to think I'm a wreck."

Yoongi allows himself to be pushed onto the bed, scooting towards the wall. "Do you have plants
on every surface?"

"Not every surface," Namjoon says with a smile as he slides into bed beside him. “Just anything
near a window.”

Yoongi smiles, allowing himself to be pulled into Namjoon’s arms, burying his face in his neck.
It’s a little overwhelming, lying in his bed in Boston’s West End with Namjoon cuddled against
him. How many times has Yoongi imagined this? Wished for it? Countless, so many times they
would be on the phone and Yoongi would squeeze his eyes closed, pretend Namjoon was there.
Cold, lonely nights wishing for Namjoon’s arms, his deep voice.

An abstract dream, one that seemed like it would take years to obtain. So maybe it happened
because of some bad choices on Yoongi’s part, he can’t regret them. Not when they’re here, when
Namjoon is here. Finally together, just where Yoongi wanted him. Yoongi curls his arm around
Namjoon’s back, fingers squeezing at warm skin. And now, Yoongi won’t have to sleep alone
again.

Yoongi wakes to the feeling of soft lips against the back of his neck, gentle kisses dusted over his
skin. A hand is splayed across his stomach and legs are tangled with his own. He shifts, sighing as
he arches against the firm chest behind him. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, to
reorient himself. He considers pinching himself to prove that where he is and who he’s with are
real. He is in his bed in Boston, curled up with Namjoon. It feels like a dream, something he’s
fantasized about for months. Now that it’s happening, well, Yoongi’s pretty sure he’s never felt so
good waking up in Boston before.

“Good morning, baby,” Namjoon murmurs against Yoongi’s skin. His voice is deep and rough
with sleep and he nuzzles his nose against Yoongi’s nape. Yoongi can feel Namjoon’s smile
against his skin.

“Morning,” Yoongi mumbles, squeezing his eyes closed more tightly. If this is a dream, he doesn’t
want to wake up from it. “How did you sleep?”

Namjoon hums, squeezing Yoongi tighter as he kisses his shoulder. “Good,” he responds. “I
always sleep the best with you.”

“Always?” Yoongi asks, chuckling softly. “You’ve only had a week of experience.”

“And I’ve never slept better,” Namjoon confirms.

If Yoongi’s being honest, he hasn’t either.

“Do you know what time it is?” Yoongi asks

Namjoon shifts, probably turning to look at Yoongi’s bedside clock. “Almost ten.”

Frowning, Yoongi buries his face in his pillow. He doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want this to end.
Though… it won’t end, not really. Yoongi doesn’t need to worry about timelines and goodbyes
again, he can wake up next to Namjoon every morning now. The thought makes him feel a little
giddy. He rolls over so he and Namjoon are face to face. “We should get up,” Yoongi says softly,
looking up at Namjoon through his lashes as he traces his fingers over Namjoon’s chest.

“Do we have to?” Namjoon pouts, skimming his fingertips up and down Yoongi’s back. They dip
lower with each pass, just barely brushing the swell of his ass. “Can’t we stay in bed a little
longer?”

Yoongi allows Namjoon to draw him into a kiss, lazy drags of their lips as they cuddle impossibly
closer. “Maybe a few more minutes wouldn’t –“ Yoongi cuts off at a loud beeping from his phone
on the nightstand. He groans and flops onto his back. “Shit. I forgot someone’s coming to look at
the couch at eleven,” he huffs.

“I can be fast,” Namjoon hedges, tapping his fingers against Yoongi’s belly.

Snorting, Yoongi pulls him into a quick kiss before releasing him again. “Not that fast, lover boy,”
he teases. “Besides, I like when you take your time,” he purrs.

Namjoon groans and Yoongi can feel Namjoon’s half-hard cock against his thigh as his boyfriend
shifts beside him. “You’ll kill me,” he huffs.
Patting Namjoon’s chest, Yoongi pushes himself to sit up and stretches his arms over his head.
“Come on, I’ll make coffee.”

Namjoon’s presence in his apartment makes Yoongi feel more at home than he’s felt in the two
years he’s lived in the building. Yoongi makes coffee in his tiny kitchen while Namjoon clings to
his back, nuzzling into his neck and peppering him with kisses at every opportunity. Yoongi feels a
little lightheaded, unable to stop smiling.

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asks, earning a grumble in reply. “We have leftover pizza or I could
take you to one of my favorite bakeries.”

“At Faneuil Hall?”

Yoongi snorts, reaching for mugs in the cabinet while Namjoon continues to hold onto him. “Fuck
no,” he laughs. “I’m never going back to that hell hole. We’ll go to Bova, it’s just a ten minute
walk.” The thought of sfogliatelle and florentines has Yoongi’s mouth watering. As much as he
doesn’t want to spend money, he should go to a few of his favorite places before he leaves. “I’ll
treat you to pastries.”

“Sounds great,” Namjoon agrees easily. Yoongi can feel him smiling against his neck. “Will you
show me around the city? Your favorite spots?’

Nodding, Yoongi pours the coffee into the mugs. “Sure, we should have a little time today.”

Two days to pack up his life, sell everything he doesn’t want, and get ready to leave. It’s barely
enough time to do anything, but Yoongi would probably leave now if he could. Boston has its good
spots, places that Yoongi enjoys. But none of them are enough to make him want to stay longer
than he has to.

Tying up loose ends is annoying, but not as hard as Yoongi expected. He listed his car and
furniture cheaply enough that he had multiple interested parties. If he had more time, he could have
probably asked for more, padded his pockets a little. Getting rid of things is easier than Yoongi
expected, there’s no sadness as he watches two men carry out his couch and come back for his
chair and coffee table. He has no attachment to these possessions, things that serve only to trap him
in Boston.

Yoongi probably could have even asked Seokjin and Hoseok to handle some of it, but he doesn’t
want to hold onto anything, wants a clean tear from the ties that bind. When Yoongi leaves Boston
in the rearview, the only tie he wants left is the one to his friends.

In the afternoon, Yoongi sits on the floor of his bedroom, sorting through clothes while Namjoon
takes a call from his work. He feels a little guilty that he doesn’t feel sad to be leaving. He grew up
in Boston, has lived in the city all his life. The trip to Nashville was well and away the farthest he’s
ever been from the city. Colorado is even father. He can’t wait to be there.

Hoseok understood, and Seokjin gets it too, even if he pretends he doesn't. Maybe there was a time
when he liked Boston, maybe when he was little. But now it holds nothing but bad memories.
Bullies at school teasing him, pushing him down as they called him slurs. His clothes thrown in the
toilet after gym class, an asshole spitting in his face.

Years of torment that weren't made any better by time outside of school. Parents who fought, filling
their tiny apartment with tension and shouts. They didn't want a fuck up for a son, a sad and
depressed little gay boy who came home with black eyes and bloody noses multiple days a week.
Yoongi slept at Seokjin's a lot more than he did at his own family's apartment for years.

Memories of pain and sadness and nothing good. Every street corner another mockery of his pitiful
life. After he graduated it was no better. A tiny shitty apartment, his inability to finish college,
crushing student debt on top of dead end jobs. It was like a cycle he couldn't get out of, couldn't
find the exit in a maze.

But now he has Namjoon and an opportunity. A chance to break the cycle and get out of the
crushing existence he's been living. A new start in a new state with someone he loves, someone
who loves him. Yoongi can't let something like this slip through his fingers, no matter how crazy it
seems, no matter what he has to leave behind.

Yoongi doesn't feel like he deserves much, he's never felt like he did. But right now, after so much
hurt, he deserves to catch a break. He deserves happiness, and he's going to take it, grab on with
both hands and not let go.

“Hey.”

Yoongi glances up, finding Namjoon standing in the doorway, cell phone in hand. “Hey, how’s
work?”

Namjoon waves a hand and shoves his phone in his pocket. “It’s fine. How’s it going in here?”

Shrugging, Yoongi stares down at the shirt in his hands. It’s one he had forgotten he had, one he
thought he had gotten rid of. A short-sleeved light blue button down with little white diamond
detailing. Yacht club casual, it had been affectionately called, when Jay had gifted it to him before
a crew regatta.

“That shirt’s nice,” Namjoon says and Yoongi feels himself stiffen. Maybe Namjoon would like
him in things like this, would prefer this too. But Yoongi can’t do that again, can’t put himself
through – “It doesn’t seem like your style though,” Namjoon finishes.

Yoongi blinks and looks up at him. “It’s not.”

“Throw it in the donation pile then,” Namjoon suggests, “no point in keeping it.”

It lightens something inside him, the thought that Namjoon does not expect him to dress a certain
way. “Right, I will.”

“If you donate that t-shirt though -” Namjoon points to a t-shirt with a large lobster that says
What’s Crackin’ in faded block letters, “I’ll never forgive you.”

Yoongi smiles, tossing the button down in his donation pile. “Of course not, what would I wear on
formal occasions?”

“This is the last thing we need to do before dinner, right?” Namjoon asks, shoving empty water
bottles and gum wrappers into a plastic bag.

Yoongi nods, not looking up from where he’s running a Lysol wipe over the dashboard of his car.
“Uh huh, just cleaning out the car, then I’ll take you to the harbor.”

They had only ventured out for an hour earlier for pastries and more coffee, Namjoon moaning
around an almond biscotti much too loudly for them being in public. The rest of the day has been
spent in the apartment, organizing and cleaning. His car is the last thing, making sure it’s neat and
clean, and all of Yoongi’s things are out of it. He has someone coming to look at it the next
morning, so a quick detail is necessary.

“Great, I can’t wait to see the ocean. When I was little we always vacationed at the beach every
year. I love the –“ he breaks off and Yoongi glances up and over, finding Namjoon staring into the
open center console.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks. “Find a mouse or something?”

Namjoon reaches into the console and draws out an object, offering it to Yoongi and – oh. A little
pink object rests in his palm. Yoongi takes it, holding in a laugh.

“Ah, Seokjin gave me this.”

“Is that a –“ Namjoon cuts off when Yoongi flicks the blade out. “Okay, it is a knife.”

Yoongi angles it so Namjoon can see the kittens and flowers on the blade. “A gift from Seokjin,”
Yoongi says by way of explanation.

“For what?” Namjoon asks. “Cutting your nails while you drive?”

Closing the blade, Yoongi slips it into his pocket. “In case I needed to defend myself from
highwaymen, rogue truckers, or –“ He gives Namjoon his sweetest smile, “you.”

“Seokjin wanted you to stab me,” Namjoon deadpans.

“Only if you were a kidnapper or serial killer,” Yoongi explains, still smiling.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Good thing I’m not.”

“Jury’s still out. And you better be careful –“ Yoongi wiggles his eyebrows, “Jin has one too.”

Namjoon frowns at him. “Don’t be cute.”

“Too late,” Yoongi teases, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon begins gently, “are you sure this is what you want?”

Stiffening, Yoongi turns to look at Namjoon. He’s backlit by the sunset, watching Yoongi with
serious eyes. They’re on the Long Wharf, eating ice cream cones on the pier as they stare out at the
ocean. Namjoon had been thrilled, gushing about how much he loved the view, how beautiful it
was. If they had the time, and Yoongi had the money, he would have taken Namjoon on a Duck
Boat tour. They’ve been out for a couple of hours now, walking the city as evening fell around
them.

“What?” Yoongi asks, wondering if he misheard Namjoon.

Namjoon looks uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “It’s just,” he starts, “do you really
want to leave?”

Maybe Namjoon is having second thoughts. Maybe he has decided this is all a mistake. Yoongi’s
throat feels tight, he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears. He swallows hard, fingers nearly
crushing his ice cream. “You don’t want –“

“No!” Namjoon cuts him off, lurching forward to grab Yoongi’s arm with his free hand. His ice
cream nearly topples off the cone in his haste. “Babe, no. I want this so much, I want you to come
with me so we can start a life together.” Namjoon’s eyes are pleading, willing Yoongi to
understand. “But you’ve shown me so many beautiful places, talked fondly about them. Don’t you
love it here? Do you really want to leave?”

“I do,” Yoongi says immediately. “There may be some places I like here, but I don’t love Boston. I
don’t think I ever have.” He turns away to stare out at the water. “What I really love is you,” he
glances at Namjoon again, feeling suddenly a little overwhelmed, a little shy. “I’ll be happy
wherever you are.”

Namjoon stares at him. “I want you with me,” Namjoon says softly. “If you really wanted to stay,
maybe I could figure something out and –“

Yoongi shakes his head and Namjoon trails off. “Please don’t,” he replies. “Boston has never been
that kind to me, Namjoon. Most of my memories here are painful.” He watches Namjoon’s face,
the way the sunset bathes him in pinks and golds. “I’m ready for something new,” he intones, “a
fresh start.”

“Me too,” Namjoon whispers, stepping forward until they’re toe to toe. “I want that too.”

Namjoon leans in to kiss him. His lips are cold from the ice cream, tasting sweet like the cherry
and chocolate hard serve. Yoongi presses into the kiss, free hand against Namjoon’s chest as it
deepens, just a little. He doesn’t care about the people around them or his own blueberry ice cream
melting down his fingers. All that matters is Namjoon.

Yoongi and Namjoon are in the kitchen, pulling beers out of the fridge when they hear the front
door open.

“Hello!” Hoseok sing-songs through the apartment. “The party has arrived!”

Grabbing a few beers, Yoongi makes his way into the living room, Namjoon on his heels. Hoseok
and Seokjin are standing in the doorway, carrying bags of takeout. “You’re going to have to give
back that spare key,” Yoongi teases, smiling at them.

“We will,” Hoseok huffs, pouting at him. “After everything’s cleaned out.” Seokjin and Hoseok
had kindly offered to finish cleaning out anything Yoongi left behind, making sure the apartment
was empty.

“You do not have any furniture,” Seokjin deadpans, blinking around the room. The couch and chair
are gone, coffee table as well. Yoongi’s tiny dining table and chairs are gone as well. Television
and stand, even his bookcases (records and books neatly packed away) are gone.

“Very observant,” Yoongi responds. “I am, as you know, moving.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, giving Yoongi a dirty look. “Clever. Where are we supposed to sit?”

“Is the floor not good enough for his royal highness?” Hoseok quips, bumping Seokjin with his hip
and stepping past him. “It’s just like a picnic!”

Hoseok folds himself onto the floor, setting his bags of take out down and beginning to unpack
them. With a sigh, Seokjin joins him.

“Do we need plates?” Yoongi asks, setting his beers on the floor.

“We’re good,” Hoseok says easily. “We can just eat out of the containers.” He begins opening a
few Chinese food boxes as Seokjin passes out paper wrapped chopsticks.

Yoongi takes a seat across from his friends on the floor, smiling at Namjoon when he joins him.
They’re all quiet for a few minutes, passing around containers and eating. The atmosphere feels a
little tense and when Yoongi sneaks a glance his way, he can see Seokjin sitting stiffly, barely
eating. “Well,” he says finally, setting down a container of noodles, “this is awkward.”

Hoseok gives Yoongi a pained smile and clears his throat. “So, do you have your route all mapped
out?”

“We do,” Namjoon answers. “Places to stay, cheapest gas stations, and some interesting sights
along the way. I have a tent and some camping gear in my car too, we’re going to try to stay in a
state park or something one night. It’ll be nice to sleep under the stars, romantic.” He grins at
Yoongi with the last word and Yoongi smiles back, blushing faintly.

“That sounds fun!” Hoseok chirps.

Beside him, Seokjin snorts. “You hate bugs, Hoseok.”

“Have a drink before you ruin the mood,” Hoseok snaps, shoving a hard seltzer into Seokjin’s
hand.

Surprise flashes across Seokjin’s face at Hoseok’s tone but he doesn’t argue back, just opens the
seltzer and takes a long drink.

“Did you guys record any videos while you were in Nashville?” Hoseok asks, easily redirecting the
conversation. “For your channels?”

“We should have,” Yoongi replies. “I didn’t really think of it.”

Namjoon nudges him with an elbow. “Clearly you were too distracted by my handsome face.”

“His face,” Hoseok repeats, “right.”

“I think it will be really fun to be able to record videos together,” Yoongi says, smiling at Namjoon
beside him. “Think how many great songs we can cover.”

Namjoon smiles back, dimples popping. He sets down his container of chicken and reaches out,
squeezing Yoongi’s knee. “I’m so excited,” he admits. “When I first watched your videos almost
two years ago, I never thought this would happen. I just thought you had sexy hands.”

Squeaky laughter fills the room as Seokjin tips forward, laughing into his palm. They all look at
him and Seokjin straightens up, frowning. “Oh shut up, that was funny.”

“It wasn’t that funny,” Yoongi huffs, “my hands are very sexy.”

The mood improves a bit from there, Seokjin relaxes a little, interacting with Namjoon and sharing
stories. Yoongi is thankful that Hoseok and Seokjin don’t seem to be pulling out any extremely
embarrassing stories, though he’s sure those will come later. It’s nice, easy to laugh and talk with
his oldest friends. He can lean into Namjoon’s side, sipping his beer as Hoseok giggles across from
him.

Yoongi and Namjoon are being careful with how much they’re drinking, not wanting to be
hungover for the start of their trip. But Hoseok doesn’t have the same qualms. He’s not much of a
drinker, so he’s giggly and boneless from just a few drinks. Yoongi wonders if part of the reason
he’s drinking is to forget he’s sad about Yoongi leaving. He pushes the thought down, swallowing
another mouthful of beer.

“I always knew,” Hoseok slurs, “that Yoongi would get kidnapped! And here we are, you’re
stealing him away!”

Namjoon laughs and slings an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, hugging him close. “How could I
resist?” He turns, staring at Yoongi with sparkling eyes full of fondness. “He’s wonderful.”

“He is!” Hoseok nearly yells. “And don’t forget it! You’re lucky, Namjoon.”

“I know I am,” Namjoon agrees. They share a look that Yoongi can’t decipher.

Hoseok smiles again but his eyes are suddenly teary. “You’re a good one, Namjoon,” he says
softly. “Take good care of my baby.”

“I’m not a child,” Yoongi huffs, but his complaint is ignored.

“I will,” Namjoon promises.

By this time, Hoseok has crawled forward and is only about a foot away from Namjoon, looking
up at him with glassy eyes. As Yoongi watches, Hoseok moves closer and throws his arms around
Namjoon, pulling him into a hug.

“Well,” Yoongi announces as Namjoon hugs Hoseok back, “this has gotten…” he trails off,
meeting Seokjin’s eyes across the room.

“Why don’t you help me clean some of this up?” Seokjin suggests, nodding to the empty
containers.

Yoongi hesitates, but nods, pushing to his feet. He grabs a few empty boxes and beer cans and
follows Seokjin into the kitchen. Seokjin is waiting, leaning against the counter with his arms
crossed, looking ready for a fight.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Yoongi declares before Seokjin can speak. “I’ve made my
decision.”

“I know that now,” Seokjin says, deflating a little. “I figured it out when I walked in and you didn’t
have any furniture. It just – I didn’t think you’d actually…” he trails off.

Yoongi sighs, depositing the garbage into the trashcan and turning to face his best friend. His best
friend for years, more than a decade. Someone Yoongi has always looked up to, could always rely
on. Seokjin who has protected him and taken care of him, Seokjin who has loved him like a
brother.

“I’m going to miss you,” Yoongi whispers, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “So much.”

Seokjin looks away quickly, but Yoongi can see that his eyes are glassy. “I still think this is
stupid,” Seokjin grumbles, “but I’m not going to try to stop you.” He swallows hard and looks up,
meeting Yoongi’s eyes. “I haven’t seen you this happy in…” he trails off, shaking his head.
“Maybe I’ve never seen you this happy. I’ve never seen you like this around someone.”

“Namjoon is different from anyone else,” Yoongi insists, willing Seokjin to understand. “He makes
me feel safe and seen and he doesn’t want to change me. He loves me for who I am, even the bad
stuff.”

“I can see that,” Seokjin admits. “But does he know all of it?” Yoongi doesn’t answer, just giving a
tired shrug and Seokjin sighs. “You know all I want is for you to be happy, Yoongi.”

“I know,” Yoongi whispers.

Seokjin sighs. “Is this just… you’re being really reckless. Are you talking to anyone about it? Are
you taking your meds?”

“I can’t afford to see anyone,” Yoongi admits. He knows what Seokjin means. Recklessness is part
of it, when his depression is too bad, when he’s lower than low. He doesn’t think before acting,
like quitting his job with little warning. He knows this is reckless, but he doesn’t want to stop. “But
I take my medicine.”

“Promise me you’ll use some of the money from selling everything to see someone in Colorado.
You need to talk to someone again, Yoongs.”

Yoongi frowns. “I don’t -”

“It helped,” Seokjin insists. “Didn’t it?”

“It did,” Yoongi admits. “It did help. Especially after everything that happened with…” he trails
off.

Seokjin looks pained, nodding sadly. “I’m sorry.”

The guilt had tormented Seokjin for months. They both knew that it was Seokjin who pushed
Yoongi to meet Jay, pushed for them to date. And Yoongi had been reluctant to talk about it, to
admit what was happening. Seokjin had felt horrible that he hadn’t seen the signs, hadn’t known
what was happening. But Yoongi was ashamed, and too embarrassed to leave until he walked in on
Jay with someone else.

Yoongi remembers the night Seokjin came to his apartment, a month after the breakup. It was two
in the morning and Seokjin was in rumpled pajamas, tears streaking his face. He had hugged
Yoongi tightly, apologizing over and over for hurting him. Yoongi never blamed Seokjin, knew he
was only trying to help and didn’t want him to be alone. He didn’t know how much Seokjin
blamed himself.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Yoongi says gently, crossing the kitchen to lean against the counter
beside his best friend. “I know you’re only trying to help.” Just like he was only trying to help
before.

Seokjin nods, hands squeezing into his arms. “You can always come back,” he croaks. “If you need
to, if you need anything. We’re always here for you.”

“Thank you, Jinnie,” Yoongi says softly, leaning his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. “It’s nice to know
that. But I want to do this.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He sighs and leans his head onto Yoongi’s. “You’ll be careful? Take care of
yourself?”
“I will.” Yoongi doesn’t tell him he’s been doing that for years, because maybe he couldn’t have
gotten through everything without Seokjin. Maybe he couldn’t always have taken care of himself.
“You don’t want to yell at me again?”

“I do,” Seokjin insists, laughing softly. “But I won’t. I know it’s pointless. Just be safe and call me
for anything. Anytime. I can fly out there and kick Namjoon’s ass if I have to.”

“Or you could promise to come visit?” Yoongi suggests.

Seokjin snorts. “That doesn’t sound as fun.” He turns and pulls Yoongi into a tight hug. “Love you,
Yoongs.”

“Love you too,” Yoongi whispers, burying his face in Seokjin’s shoulder.

Seokjin pats his back once before releasing him, holding him at arm’s length. He looks like he
wants to say more, maybe apologize again, but he doesn’t. He straightens up and smiles, a little
crooked, squeezing Yoongi’s shoulders. “Let’s get back in there before Hobi drowns Namjoon in
his tears.”

Hugs are had all around, tight hugs that Yoongi almost doesn’t want to end, before Seokjin half-
carries a drunk and teary Hoseok from Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi and Namjoon stand in the
empty living room, gazing around at the few neatly packed boxes and bags. Not all of it will fit in
Namjoon’s Jeep. Seokjin and Hoseok agreed to hold on to Yoongi’s books, his record collection, a
few odds and ends, until Yoongi can find a way to get them to Colorado.

“Well,” Namjoon says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “How do you feel?”

Yoongi considers a moment, looking around at the space. He’s called this apartment home for two
years, he should have some attachment to it, but he doesn’t, not really. “Mostly just tired,” Yoongi
admits.

“Me too,” Namjoon agrees. “You ran me ragged today.”

Smiling, Yoongi tilts his head to the side as he approaches Namjoon. “Thank you for everything
today, you were a big help.”

He truly had been, assisting Yoongi in packing, selling his car and the rest of his furniture, doing
anything Yoongi asked. All without complaint, eager to help where he could. Yoongi had struggled
a few times, staring down at half-packed boxes, lost in memories. But Namjoon was there then too,
a hand squeezing Yoongi’s shoulder, a kiss brushed against his cheek. Stalwart and supportive.

“Anything for you,” Namjoon responds, smiling his dimpled smile. “What should we do now?”

Yoongi blinks at him for a moment and then smiles, something coy and sly. “Bedroom?”

A beat, two. Then Namjoon pulls his hands from his pockets and surges forward, grabbing Yoongi
by the arms and pressing their lips together. He smiles against Yoongi’s lips, nuzzling their noses
together. “An excellent idea,” he whispers, voice a low rasp.

They head toward the bedroom, locked together in a kiss as they stumble across the room.
Yoongi’s hands are in Namjoon’s hair, pulling his head down and to the side so he can more easily
lick into his mouth. Namjoon’s hands roam over Yoongi’s body, one on his back, holding him
close, the other slipping down the back of his jeans to cup his ass through his briefs. Their tongues
tangle, lips slick and wet as they cross into the bedroom.

They both freeze.

“Shit,” Namjoon says, pulling back to breathe. “I forgot you sold your bed.”

He did. Someone had come just a few hours ago and disassembled it, carrying away the bed frame,
mattress, and box spring. All that’s left is a bundle of Yoongi’s blankets on the floor, a few pillows
and the tangle of his sheets.

Yoongi blinks at the mess on the floor, glances at Namjoon, then back to his blankets. He shrugs,
trailing a hand along Namjoon’s neck. “Guess you’ll have to get creative, baby.”

If Yoongi didn’t know any better, he’d say the sound that Namjoon made was almost a growl. A
growl, Namjoon’s eyes flashing with heat, and then Namjoon was shoving him against the wall.
Yoongi huffs, flinching a little, as his back collides with the plaster. Before he can protest,
Namjoon is kissing him again.

There’s nothing sweet or tender about it, Namjoon prying Yoongi’s lips open to shove his tongue
into his mouth. It’s wet and messy, Yoongi clinging to Namjoon to keep himself upright as his
head spins. Maybe it’s lack of oxygen from the bruising kiss, maybe it’s just Namjoon.

Yoongi moans into Namjoon’s mouth as a thigh is shoved between his legs, pressing hard into his
groin. He whines against Namjoon’s lips as he ruts forward, chasing more friction. Namjoon pulls
away from his lips and nudges Yoongi’s head to the side, beginning to kiss down his neck.

The stinging bite of Namjoon’s teeth against his skin has Yoongi’s cock throbbing in his jeans, his
breath hitching with every nip. Namjoon licks along the edge of his jaw before ducking down
lower, sucking a bruise at the junction of Yoongi’s neck and shoulder. Warm fingers slip beneath
his shirt, hiking it up to his armpits as Namjoon bends further, attaching his lips to Yoongi’s
nipple. He keens, back arching and hands scrabbling at Namjoon’s shoulders as Namjoon bites and
sucks, teasing until Yoongi trembles. The shirt is pulled over his head and Yoongi barely has time
to blink and reorient himself, before Namjoon is dropping to his knees.

Deft fingers tug at the fastenings of his pants, the button and zipper coming free. They’re pulled
quickly down his legs along with his briefs, both catching at his knees. Namjoon doesn’t bother to
pull them any further, only leans forward and attaches his mouth to Yoongi’s thigh. He bites down,
sucking and nipping at the skin as Yoongi groans, feeling blood rise to the surface, the sting as a
bruise forms.

“Wanna mark you up,” Namjoon rasps, tongue tracing along Yoongi’s inner thigh. “See how
pretty you look covered in bruises.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi moans, “yeah.” He wants to say more. Like how he wants Namjoon to cover him
in love bites, decorate his skin so everyone can see Yoongi belongs to him. But his tongue is thick
and heavy in his mouth, blood roaring in his head, and all he can do is stay upright.

He nearly collapses when Namjoon’s lips close over the head of his cock. He cries out, head
thunking back against the wall and hands flying to Namjoon’s hair. Warm wetness engulfs him,
Namjoon’s tongue swirling around the tip of his dick, lapping at his slit. He whimpers as Namjoon
sinks down further, tongue swirling along the underside of his cock.

Namjoon’s mouth feels amazing, those plush lips stretched and sliding over his skin. The suction is
perfect, everything so hot and wet and tight. So messy, the sounds of Namjoon’s mouth on his skin
are loud, lewd. Saliva slips from the corners of Namjoon’s lips, dripping down his chin as he bobs
his head.

Hands slide over Yoongi’s thighs, reaching around to grip his ass. Namjoon’s fingers squeeze and
palm at the flesh before dipping between, skimming over his hole. He arches into the touch as
Namjoon gently presses at his rim. He’s not sure which way to move, to seek the pleasure from
Namjoon’s mouth or from his hands.

Yoongi grips Namjoon’s hair hard, fingers twining in the strands and tugging at every wave of
pleasure. His thighs shake and his stomach muscles clench and unclench as Namjoon works him
over. It’s good, so good, but it’s soft. He’s noticed, from the short time they’ve spent together so
far, that Namjoon touches him like he’s fragile. It’s kind of nice, to be treated like he is precious
and so loved. He’s definitely seeing stars right now, but he wants the Namjoon from minutes ago
with stinging teeth to mark him up some more, make him scream.

“Feels good,” Yoongi murmurs, rocking his hips a little. Namjoon doesn’t protest, just loosens his
jaw a little so Yoongi can fuck shallowly into his mouth. “Just wanna make me feel good don’t
you?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes up to look at Yoongi, nodding as well as he can with a cock in his mouth.
Yoongi smiles at him.

“So eager to please,” he coos, “just wanna take care of me?” Namjoon nods again. “It’s nice,”
Yoongi says sweetly, “but I bet that’s all you can do.”

Namjoon freezes, eyes fixed on Yoongi’s face as Yoongi smiles down at him. “So soft and gentle,”
he says, “my big, sweet boy. Just wants to make love, make me feel good.”

Yoongi doesn’t care if that’s all Namjoon wants, he’s more than happy with that. Everything
Namjoon does makes him see stars. But he’s heard filthy things from Namjoon’s lips, dirty
promises whispered over the phone. Nasty, vulgar secrets that made him weak at the knees, had
him thrusting into his fist or grinding down onto his fingers. All the things Namjoon wanted to do
to him, how he’d make him cry, make him beg and scream. Yoongi wants Namjoon to let go.

“Too sweet to just take me apart, hmm?” Yoongi strokes Namjoon’s cheek with his fingertips. “So
soft, gentle, caring. Too much of a softie to fuck me sore, aren’t you?”

Namjoon’s mouth has stopped moving, his tongue still. Yoongi’s cock is just barely in his mouth,
neither of them bothering to move at all. Their eyes are locked and Yoongi smiles, sweet and
angelic. “All those things you said to me must not be true, all those dirty things you wanted to do to
me. Thought you were going to make me beg?” he teases. “I don’t think you could.” A challenge.

Slowly, Namjoon pulls back, letting Yoongi’s cock fall from his mouth. He brings a hand to
Yoongi’s front, idly stroking him as he stares at him. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi purrs, “or maybe I just don’t think you have it in you.”

Yoongi expects Namjoon to argue, to pout and frown and apologize. He doesn’t expect Namjoon
to surge up, lifting Yoongi with two hands cupping his ass, and hoisting him into the air. A
surprised oh leaves Yoongi’s lips and then he’s being pressed into the pile of blankets on his back,
Namjoon looming over him.

“You looking for a fight, Min?” he growls, one hand braced on the floor, the other gripping
Yoongi’s pants and briefs, ripping them off his legs.
“Maybe,” Yoongi snaps, pulling Namjoon’s shirt hard over his head. “If you think you can win.”

“You fucking –“ Namjoon doesn’t finish his sentence, eyes searching Yoongi’s face. Then he’s
kissing him, his mouth locking with Yoongi’s hard enough to bruise, to take his breath away.

Their hands grope and roam, Yoongi shoves his down Namjoon’s mesh athletic shorts, squeezing
his ass before shoving the fabric down his legs. Together they get Namjoon’s shorts and
underwear off. When Namjoon is distracted by his shorts catching on his ankle, Yoongi takes his
chance. He pushes, shoving Namjoon up and over until he can get him onto his back, sitting astride
his waist and pinning him to the floor.

Namjoon stares up at him, hands squeezing into Yoongi’s hips. “You think you’re big and strong?”
Namjoon hisses, voice low and dark.

Yoongi grins down at him, grinding his hips in a slow circle. They both moan as their cocks rub
together. “I pinned you pretty easily, didn’t I?”

The wrong thing to say, or maybe the right thing. Namjoon pushes himself up to a sitting position
and pulls Yoongi against his chest, kissing him again. Their lips move together, Namjoon’s teeth
nipping and tugging at Yoongi’s bottom lip. Namjoon holds him close, rolling his hips to rut their
cocks together between their bodies. Yoongi feels breathless, like Namjoon’s hands and lips are
everywhere.

They roll again, Namjoon pinning Yoongi on his back again, kissing a wet trail down his neck.
Then Yoongi hooks a leg over Namjoon’s, forcing him onto his side, Yoongi grinding against his
thigh. It’s messy and animalistic, mouths meeting in rough kisses, hands gripping and groping hard
enough to hurt. Their bodies slide together, hips rolling as they seek friction, hands pulling each
other closer to rut and rub and touch. Tussling and rolling across the blankets, pushing and pulling
as they fight for dominance. Yoongi can hardly tell where his body ends and Namjoon’s begins.
Everything is hot, messy pleasure.

Then the blankets catch around Yoongi’s ankle. He has the upper hand, he’s almost got Namjoon
pinned with an arm against his back, but his foot catches. Flailing for a moment, Yoongi tries to
pull himself free. Namjoon is on him, flipping Yoongi onto his stomach, pressing him hard into the
floor. They’re barely even on the blankets now, Yoongi’s body flush against the cool hardwood.

“Now I’ve pinned you,” Namjoon whispers, teeth nipping at the shell of Yoongi’s ear. “You still
wanna be a brat?”

Yoongi bucks against him, trying to force himself up. Namjoon doesn’t let him, holding Yoongi
down with a hand on the back of his neck. His other hand draws back and Yoongi swears he can
hear the whine of it through the air. The slap catches him off guard, hard and quick enough that the
sound registers first, then the heat of Namjoon’s palm. Then the sting, blooming on Yoongi’s skin
where Namjoon’s hand collided with his ass. He keens, arching up as his cock throbs, pinned
between his body and the rough floor.

“You want me to fuck you until you cry?” Namjoon snarls. “Want me to show you what else I
want to do with you?”

He won’t beg. He’s not going to beg, not now, he can’t let Namjoon win so easily. He bucks again
instead, writhing and squirming beneath Namjoon’s grip.

Another slap, harder, on the same cheek. He cries out again, body jerking beneath Namjoon’s hold.
Pleasure roars through him and he pants, cheek pressed to the floor and drool spilling from his lips.
“Don’t move,” Namjoon snaps.

The sound of sucking is loud, but Yoongi doesn’t have time to wonder what Namjoon is doing
before he feels a wet finger prodding at his rim. Namjoon’s finger slips into him, saliva making the
glide a little rough. He squirms again, surprised by the intrusion. Namjoon thrusts in and out,
harsh, short movements that have Yoongi gasping.

The finger disappears as quickly as it was pushed into him and Yoongi whimpers at the loss, hole
clenching around nothing. He feels Namjoon move, getting up and moving across the floor.
Yoongi flips onto his back, taking the opportunity to try to get some control back. Not that he
wants it, but riling Namjoon up is proving to be a lot of fun.

Namjoon is rummaging in a duffle bag by the door and when he straightens up, he has a bottle of
lube in his hand. He looks at Yoongi and frowns. “I thought I told you not to move.”

A shiver runs down Yoongi’s spine at the look in Namjoon’s eyes. This is the man from so many
video calls, dark eyes and rough voice, telling Yoongi what to do. Directing him to fuck himself on
his fingers, edge himself, to come for him. Yoongi had always been eager to please, loving the way
Namjoon would take charge. It was never something Yoongi enjoyed before, giving up control and
power. But Namjoon made him feel safe, made him want to let go.

Yoongi wants to let go now. But he also wants to play.

So he smiles, teasing and coy, bringing a hand down to stroke himself. “That all you got?” He
ignores the way his entire body clenching as he takes Namjoon in. Broad shoulders and firm chest,
toned muscles and thick cock flushed and wet between his legs. Yoongi wants to choke on it, wants
it fucking into him and splitting him open until he screams.

Namjoon is on him in a second, nearly pouncing onto him and dragging him to the blankets again.
Yoongi forces Namjoon beneath him, hands holding his shoulders down and hips pinning him to
the floor. Their mouths connect again, Yoongi sucking at Namjoon’s tongue. It’s hot in the room,
so hot, their bodies slick and dewy with sweat. Slick enough that it’s easy for Yoongi to lose his
grip.

He ends up face down again, face pressed into a pillow as Namjoon covers him with his larger
body. Pressed together from chest to thigh, Namjoon nearly crushes him into the floor. It’s
heavenly, Namjoon’s fever-hot skin cocooning him, hard cock pressed into the cleft of his ass.
Yoongi pushes his hips up, aching for more, for Namjoon to touch him.

“Now you want it?” Namjoon snorts, shoving Yoongi back down to the blankets. “You gonna beg
for it?”

“No,” Yoongi grits out as Namjoon pulls him to his knees and spreads his cheeks. “Fuck you.”

Namjoon laughs and spits on his hole. “Kitten’s got such sharp claws,” he coos, “let’s see how
much fight is in you after I’m done with you.”

Two fingers press past Yoongi’s rim, slick with almost too much lube. It stings, Yoongi barely
prepped enough for both digits at once. But he welcomes it, welcomes the small shock of pain as
the fingers slide into him.

He moans, jerking beneath Namjoon’s crushing weight as the fingers begin to thrust in and out of
his body. They drag along his walls, slippery and warm. Yoongi can feel the ridge of every
knuckle, the softness of the pads of Namjoon’s fingers inside of him. The slight pain fades quickly,
replaced with a low smolder of pleasure.

Namjoon is still draped over him and Yoongi whimpers, eyes squeezing closed, when Namjoon’s
lips latch onto the side of his neck. Soft lips and sharp teeth, nipping at his skin then closing over it
to suck. He’ll be bruised all over tomorrow, a canvas of pinks and purples blooming across his
skin.

“You look so good under me,” Namjoon whispers, breath ghosting over Yoongi’s ear. He
shudders, barely holding in a whimper at Namjoon’s words, at the way his tongue traces the shell
of Yoongi’s ear.

The fingers are still moving inside him, scissoring to stretch him open. It’s rough, hurried, not the
slow, patient prep that they’ve practiced. Namjoon shifts back, uncurling from around Yoongi’s
back. Yoongi misses the warmth, the weight, as soon as he’s gone. He wants to be caged under
Namjoon, pressed into the floor and held down by all that hot skin, firm muscle.

Maybe he will beg, before this is over. Beg for Namjoon inside him, on top of him, fucking him
into the floor.

Yoongi squeals, body bucking as cold liquid is poured directly onto his hole. So much lube, wet
and messy, dripping down his perineum and balls, sliding down his cock to drip onto the floor
beneath him. He whimpers, hole clenching involuntarily. Then three of Namjoon’s fingers are
pressed against his rim, slipping inside as Yoongi goes boneless, collapsing on his belly onto the
floor.

An arm is slipped beneath his hips, hitching his ass into the air so Namjoon can have a better
angle. Yoongi dangles, knees sliding against hardwood while his hands fist in blankets. He buries
his face in the pillow below him as Namjoon finds his prostate. Yoongi thinks he screams, entire
body tensing like a bow string. White hot pleasure courses through him and his cock, sticky and
wet with precum and spilled lube, twitches between his legs.

“So loud,” Namjoon purrs, shifting to press himself against Yoongi again, hard cock sliding
against Yoongi’s thigh. It leaves a slick trial along his skin as Namjoon grinds his hips against
him. “Knew you would be.” He fucks his fingers harder into Yoongi’s hole, spreading them to
stretch him quickly, spearing his sweet spot on every thrust.

Stars, stars and static in his brain. There’s a high-pitched whining sound filling the room and he
realizes belatedly that it’s coming from himself. He can’t seem to stop it, can’t seem to turn it off
and shut his mouth. He tries to bury his face more firmly in the pillow, the soft cotton is soaked
with his drool.

Without Namjoon’s arm holding him up, Yoongi is confident that he would be flat on the floor,
body entirely jelly. His knees are barely touching the floor now, sliding across the hardwood with
each of Namjoon’s thrusts. Yoongi’s cock is aching between his legs, desperate for friction,
begging for release. But he can’t move, can’t touch himself, can only moan and whine into his
pillow as Namjoon hammers into his prostate, abuses his rim.

“Can’t wait any longer,” Namjoon rasps. “Need to be inside you.”

Yoongi’s toes curl, nails digging in hard to the blankets beneath him. “Please,” he whines, voice
high and needy. He doesn’t even sound like himself. His entire body is trembling, shaking with
need.

“What was that?” Namjoon purrs, voice a low rumble. His fingers still inside Yoongi’s body, pads
of his fingers rubbing into Yoongi’s swollen prostate. When Yoongi only whines and clenches
around him, Namjoon clicks his tongue. “What did you say, baby?”

Yoongi’s tongue is heavy, too big for his mouth as he tries to speak. “Joonie, please,” he slurs.
“Need you. Please.”

“There’s my baby,” he coos. “Begging for my cock just like I knew he would.”

Namjoon’s fingers slowly withdraw from his hole and Yoongi instantly feels empty. He wants to
be full, wants Namjoon to fill him up, fuck him so full until Yoongi can feel it in his chest, his
throat.

The warmth of Namjoon’s body moves away and Yoongi whines again as he collapses to the floor,
blankets bunched beneath his chest. “Namjoon please,” he pleads, hands fisted so tightly in the
blankets they’re beginning to ache.

“Just need to find a condom,” Namjoon soothes. His voice is so raw, so deep and low. It makes
something in Yoongi’s belly clench and curl, makes him want to beg louder, harder. “Fuck,”
Namjoon continues. Yoongi hears the sound of rustling bags. “Thought we had some.”

Yoongi pushes his face off the pillow, finds Namjoon leaning over one of the duffle bags. “Just
fuck me,” he begs, voice raw. “Joonie just fuck me.”

“Are you –“

“Please,” Yoongi cuts him off. “Just fuck me.”

Namjoon stands and crosses the room swiftly, dropping back to the floor behind Yoongi. “Fuck,”
Namjoon groans, landing another slap on Yoongi’s ass. “Gonna fill you up,” he rasps.

“Want it,” Yoongi croaks. Namjoon’s arm slides beneath his hips again, pulling Yoongi’s hips up.
He manages to get his knees under himself, shaky and trembling. He arches his back, presenting
himself like a cat in heat. His mind is all Namjoon and his big hands, big dick. “Want it,” he
repeats. Namjoon grips Yoongi’s hip with one hand. He lines himself up with the other, head of his
cock teasing over Yoongi’s hole, slipping through the mess of lube. “Want it, want it, want it,”
Yoongi repeats, a mantra, a plea.

It burns, stinging pain that Yoongi relishes as Namjoon slides into him. Thick cock stretching him
open further. He’s not prepped nearly enough and he can feel it, feel the way his body tries to
protest. But Yoongi doesn’t want it to stop. Not when he can feel the pleasure beneath it, rising to
the surface as the pain subsides bit by bit as Namjoon’s cock pushes all the way in.

It feels huge, bigger than it did the last time it was inside him. But Yoongi was more thoroughly
prepped last time, and they were using a condom. He can feel everything now, the ridge at the
head of Namjoon’s cock, every vein, the slight curve. Carving him open, splitting him in two.

Namjoon pauses once he’s fully sheathed, draping himself over Yoongi’s back to pepper kisses
along his shoulder blades, the back of his neck. Yoongi can feel his hole clenching around
Namjoon’s cock, his body trying to acclimate to the intrusion. Then Namjoon starts to move.

“Gotta move,” Namjoon huffs, nipping at Yoongi’s neck as he rolls his hips.

Yoongi cries out, biting into the pillow as Namjoon thrusts into him. He’s somehow deeper, as if
Yoongi could look down and see Namjoon’s cock making his stomach bulge. Tiny gasps are
punched from his chest with each of Namjoon’s thrusts, leaving his lips with broken moans.
Namjoon is grunting above him, one hand wrapped around Yoongi’s thigh, hoisting him higher.
His fingers almost meet around Yoongi’s leg, hands so big they can nearly wrap all the way
around. It makes Yoongi want to scream.

He does scream when Namjoon adjusts his angle and plunges into him again, slamming into his
prostate. Sparks flash behind Yoongi’s eyes, vision blurring as pleasure sings through his body,
boils beneath his skin. Namjoon curses then, letting go over Yoongi’s leg and hip as he drapes
himself over Yoongi’s body. Yoongi can’t hold them both up, falling to his stomach again on the
floor.

“Take it,” Namjoon grits out, enveloping Yoongi’s body with his own. “You’re so fucking tight,
feel so fucking good. Take it.”

Yoongi whimpers, turning his head to the side to suck air into his lungs. Namjoon’s hands are
fisted on either side of his head, crushing Yoongi into the floor and the pile of blankets. Yoongi’s
cock grinds against the hardwood below him, drooling precum all over the planks.

They haven’t had a lot of sex yet, not in person at least, but every time before has felt more soft,
almost romantic. But this isn’t romantic, this is hard and wild, animalistic as Namjoon’s cock fucks
into him and Yoongi whines and screams on the floor. It’s never felt more real than this. It’s
impossible now for Yoongi to believe this is a dream, not with the way Namjoon is panting into his
ear, with the way Yoongi’s knees are bruising against the floor.

“Love fucking you,” Namjoon rasps in his ear. “You feel so good, make me feel so good. Wanna
make you feel good, fuck you open. Love you so much, love you.” Namjoon is babbling, filth and
love low and continuous in Yoongi’s ear.

Tears spring to Yoongi’s eyes, hot and stinging. He can almost convince himself it’s from the way
Namjoon is hitting his prostate, or the way his dick is getting chafed on the floor. But he knows
what it really is. He never wants this to end, never wants to not be without Namjoon, the love of
his life, so incredibly close, so hot, so heavy on top of him.

“Harder,” Yoongi gasps, trying to arch into Namjoon’s thrusts, their sweaty bodies sliding
together. “Harder please.” He doesn’t need to be able to walk tomorrow, just to sit in the car. He’ll
welcome the soreness. Welcome the reminder that Namjoon is here in the flesh, that he is real and
whole and someone Yoongi gets to keep.

Namjoon obeys, speeding up his thrusts as he begins biting at Yoongi’s shoulder, sucking a painful
bruise into his skin. His cock plunges into him, the slap of their skin loud, lewd squelches from
way too much lube. It feels frantic, frenetic energy crackling between them. Lava is flowing
through Yoongi’s veins, he’s boiling alive.

“Gonna come,” Namjoon rasps, lips against Yoongi’s skin. “Feels too good.”

Yoongi’s been teetering on the edge for what feels like eons at this point, his orgasm barely held at
bay. “Give it to me,” Yoongi rasps.

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking for. For Namjoon to come in him, fill him up, for
Namjoon to make him come. For more, for everything.

His cock aches, stinging from rubbing against the floor, but the pain only serves to send him over
the edge. Yoongi comes with a scream, painting his stomach and the wood beneath him with cum.
Namjoon follows him over the edge, holding Yoongi down as he buries himself deep, so deep it’s
like he’s in Yoongi’s throat. He can feel Namjoon’s cock twitch inside him, feel his cum, so hot it
feels almost boiling, filling him. If he hadn’t just come, Yoongi thinks he would right now, or
maybe even again. The feeling of Namjoon’s cock pulsing inside of him, coating him in white.

His vision shatters, everything going fuzzy and blanking out as pleasure washes over him, crashes
through him like a tidal wave. It feels like it lasts forever, so powerful that his entire body tenses
and shakes, pulling from the tips of his fingers and toes. Yoongi feels like he must black out, entire
body and mind rebooting as he shakes on the floor. When he blinks his eyes open, Namjoon is
pulling out of him.

“Fuck,” Namjoon rasps, throwing himself onto his side on the blankets beside Yoongi. “Holy
fucking shit. That was…” he trails off, groaning.

Yoongi blinks at him, trying to clear the fuzz from his vision. Namjoon is shiny with sweat,
glittering in the glow of the streetlights through the window. He lets his gaze trail down
Namjoon’s body, to his softening cock slick and wet with cum and lube. Yoongi shivers.

His body feels used, sore and aching already in the best way. His rim feels puffy and sore and he
can feel Namjoon’s come beginning to trickle out of his hole. Warm wetness sliding out of him as
he tries to move his fingers and toes.

“You okay, baby?” Namjoon asks, voice gentle and kind again. He reaches out a hand, brushing
Yoongi’s damp bangs from his sweaty forehead. “Was it too much? Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean
to –“

“Amazing,” Yoongi croaks. “That was amazing. You’re so – fuck, Namjoon. I didn’t expect you to
–“ He licks his lips, almost too tired to form the words. “Amazing.”

Namjoon smiles, stroking Yoongi’s cheek with his fingertips. “I’m glad. You felt so fucking good
around me.” With another groan, he pushes himself to a sitting position, Yoongi rolls his eyes up to
still see his face. “You want a shower?”

“Maybe a bath?” Yoongi suggests. His tub isn’t that deep or that big, but he thinks if they get
creative they can both fit. “Don’t think I can stand.”

Smiling, Namjoon shoves himself to his feet. “Sounds perfect.”

Hands are on Yoongi’s body and he squeaks as he is turned and lifted, scooped into Namjoon’s
strong arms. He blinks up at him, shocked and still a little befuddled. Namjoon just smiles down at
him, ducking to kiss Yoongi’s forehead. “Bath then sleep,” Namjoon says gently as he heads
towards the bathroom on shaky legs. “Big day tomorrow.”

A very big day. New changes, new challenges, new adventures. The first day of the rest of
Yoongi’s life. He leans his cheek against Namjoon’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed as he melts
into his boyfriend’s embrace.

“I love you,” Namjoon whispers, as he sets Yoongi in the tub and climbs in behind him, pulling
Yoongi against his chest in the steaming water.

Yoongi thinks he mumbles it back, thinks he must say it. Or maybe he dreams it, slipping away on
clouds of sweetness as Namjoon holds him close, enveloping him in love.

“You ready for this?” Namjoon’s voice is low, his hand slides across Yoongi’s knee.
 Yoongi shifts in the driver’s seat of Namjoon’s Jeep and turns the key. “I’m ready.”

The playlist starts automatically, Foster the People’s I Would Do Anything for You begins to play.
And Yoongi feels it then, that he’d do anything for this, for Namjoon, to be with Namjoon. He
leans back in the seat and puts the car in gear. He puts his foot on the gas as Namjoon squeezes his
knee. Yoongi doesn’t look over, eyes fixed on the road as he pulls out into traffic, but he can feel
Namjoon smiling.

As he watches the struts of the Zakim Bridge fade into the distance, swallowed by early morning
fog, Yoongi refocuses on the road. Fear washes through him, but over it all is something else.
Excitement, or something more. Hope, maybe.

Chapter End Notes

Twitter!
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

Thanks as always to Sumi who said this chapter has the "most tender fingering" they
have ever read.

Don't forget to check out the playlist Here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It feels different this time around. Yoongi's spent a lot of time in cars over the past two weeks.
Driving to and from various destinations, all for different purposes. All of them big in their own
ways, all of them life changing. But this one, this one feels bigger.

When Yoongi got into his car for the trip down to Nashville, he was terrified. Giddy with
excitement and hopeful fantasies, but terrified. Back then, Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever make a
trip so life changing or important again. The trip back was supposed to be sad, peppered with too
many stops so Yoongi could cry on the side of the road. Cry because he had to say goodbye. But
instead, it held its own mixture of fear and joy. Driving back to Boston, but not alone, and with a
plan for a new start, a better life.

Yoongi feels like all of these trips, each individual one, has been just a leg in another longer
journey. Leading up to this one, hopefully the last stretch to the end of the road. The light in the
distance is bright and clear and finally within reach.

Glancing to the side, Yoongi can’t help but smile at Namjoon beside him. Namjoon is hunched in
his seat, one leg crossed over the other as he scrolls on his phone. This is what he’s wanted, to have
Namjoon with him, in the flesh, in person. No deadlines or clock ticking down until they have to
part. Just the two of them, together, for as long as they want.

This last leg of their journey is the most terrifying of all, but it’s also the brightest. For the first
time, Yoongi is not alone in his car, crossing thousands of miles with only himself for company.
Now he is doing it with Namjoon, the two of them traveling together, in conversation or quiet
companionship, like now. Yoongi drives through Massachusetts, Namjoon humming along to the
Worriers’ Glutton for Distance as he looks up the sculpture park they’re going to stop at around
lunch time to eat and walk around.

The song is fitting, Namjoon did give him roots through the hardest times. A constant, unwavering
support. When things seemed darkest and Yoongi struggled just to get out of bed, Namjoon was
there. And now they can close the distance, they’ve made it far enough alone. Now is a good time
to change that to together.

Namjoon blinks, seemingly to sense Yoongi watching him, and turns to look at him. A smile curls
his lips, dimples popping. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the road?” Namjoon teases,
reaching out to poke Yoongi in the ribs.

Yoongi squirms away from the tickling touch and winces, fighting down a groan as he shifts in the
seat. Namjoon freezes, hand still extended. “Don’t say anything,” Yoongi hisses, turning back to
the road. But he doesn’t miss the way Namjoon grins, practically leering.
"Are you sore?" The teasing edge to Namjoon's voice is not lost on Yoongi.

"No," Yoongi snaps, staring fixedly out the windshield. "Shut up."

Namjoon chuckles softly, moving his hand to trail his fingers down Yoongi's arm. "Seems like you
might be a little sore. Why would that be?"

Yoongi doesn't respond, just tries to shift a little on the seat, relieve some of the ache he feels. His
entire body hurts, from toes to ears. He's covered in blooming bruises, his knees are scraped, and
he's got an actual handprint on his ass. Not to mention the dull throb in his lower back and ass, the
soreness of his dick from where it was pinned to the floor. And the ache throughout the rest of him
from sleeping on the floor. They did the best they could with the pile of blankets, but it was still
not a bed. But he relishes all of it, savoring the memory of Namjoon's bruising kiss, gripping hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yoongi says primly.

Namjoon's fingertips trail up his arm to his neck, pressing lightly into a bruise beneath Yoongi's
ear. Yoongi hisses, tilting his head away as he grimaces. "Seems like you were the one who was all
talk and no action," Namjoon quips.

Jerking his head around, Yoongi glares at him, narrowing his eyes at the teasing smile on
Namjoon's lips. "I can take it."

Namjoon's eyes flash, smile turning dangerous. Yoongi turns back to the road, swallowing hard. "I
know you can," Namjoon purrs. "Wish we had more time this morning, would have made you feel
much better."

"Oh?" Yoongi prompts, suppressing a shiver. "How?"

The fingers on Yoongi's neck slide to the back of his head, playing with the hair at his nape. He
relaxes into the touch as Namjoon kneads at the muscles in his neck. "Wanna lay you out, give you
a very thorough massage," Namjoon begins. "Very meticulous rub down, kiss you all over, get you
all soft and pliant beneath me."

It sounds good, really good. Namjoon's big hands working him over, kneading into his skin,
soothing his aches and pains. Namjoon's lips on his body, pressing kisses from his ankles to the
crown of his head. His cock is stirring in his jeans and Yoongi is very aware of the fact that he's
driving. They're in the middle of traffic on the Mass Pike and Yoongi wants to pull over so
Namjoon can wreck him in the back seat of his Jeep. No matter that Yoongi's ass is thoroughly
sore or that the backseat is full of Yoongi's belongings. They could make it work.

"Then what?" Yoongi whispers, voice a little rough.

Another chuckle, darker this time. "Have you on your stomach again I think," Namjoon murmurs.
"Or maybe your back, push your legs up and get my mouth on you again. You taste so good, work
you over until you're a shivering mess."

"Yeah," Yoongi breathes, "then what?"

"Then," Namjoon begins. A pause, Yoongi is on the edge of his seat, body tense as he waits. "We
continue to pay attention to the road because there's a construction zone in half a mile."

Yoongi groans, body slumping against the seat as Namjoon giggles at him. "You're awful. What
the fuck was that?"
"No road head or sexting while driving, that's a Yoongi Min rule apparently," Namjoon quips.

"I have horrible rules." He tries to get more comfortable, grimacing. "I do really want a massage
though."

Namjoon presses into Yoongi's neck again with the tips of his fingers. "I promise I'll give you one
when we stop for the night. But for now…" Namjoon squeezes his shoulder. "Let's talk about the
sculpture park. I want to go inside the giant head."

"Is that a euphemism?"

Rolling his eyes, Namjoon settles back in his seat, unlocking his phone again to pull up the
website. Yoongi watches Namjoon type in his password, unable to tear his gaze away from his
boyfriend. He knows he needs to look at the road, but the sight of Namjoon typing 0309 into his
phone to unlock it makes Yoongi's heart do funny things in his chest.

An hour later, Yoongi is navigating them down a bumpy dirt road. He grits his teeth, grimacing at
every rut and divot he hits. The car rocks and bounces and Yoongi barely holds in a whimper as
they hit an especially deep pothole. They're unavoidable and Yoongi feels like he is being punished
for some sort of crime.

"We're almost there," Namjoon soothes, rubbing soothing circles into Yoongi's thigh. "Just pull
onto the grass there and park." Namjoon points through the windshield to a Park on Grass sign.

Yoongi steers the car onto the grass, whimpering slightly as they bump off the dirt and onto the
lawn. He slumps as soon as he stops the car, melting against the seat and breathing hard. "Fuck," he
groans, "my ass."

"Isn’t that the problem?" Namjoon asks and Yoongi gives him a confused look. Namjoon grins.
"Cause I did that so well last night."

Groaning, Yoongi swats at him. "You're not funny at all.” Namjoon laughs and Yoongi rolls his
eyes. “Horrible. I can’t believe I like you.”

Namjoon catches his hand, pressing a soft kiss to Yoongi's bare wrist. "Love you too, Yoongi."

It's hard to pretend to be mad when Namjoon looks at him with those eyes, gives him that smile.
With a huff, Yoongi leans over the console, brushing their lips together. "That massage better be
good later."

He moves to withdraw his hand and get out of the car but Namjoon holds on. "Say it back,"
Namjoon whines.

"Say what back?" Yoongi asks, blinking innocent eyes at his boyfriend. Namjoon frowns, pouting
at him, and Yoongi relents. "Love you too," he says finally, smiling wide. "Now come on, I'm
starving."

They pay the fee to visit the park to a smiling man and grab the cooler from the car, finding a
picnic bench close by. Sculptures loom around them, dotting the hills in grays and whites.
Namjoon looks around eagerly, squinting as he tries to take in everything.

"Eat first," Yoongi insists, opening the cooler. "Then we can walk around."
Namjoon nods, pulling a sandwich from the cooler and tearing off the plastic. He takes a bite,
chewing eagerly. "There's so much to see," Namjoon says happily, "it all looked so cool just from
the highway."

Yoongi nods, some of the limestone and marble statues were visible from the highway, looming
out of the trees and pastures. It was a little creepy, but Yoongi wasn't going to ruin it. "How many
sculptures are there?"

"I don't know," Namjoon says with a shrug. "Maybe thirty? The website didn't say. I just want to
walk around and see everything."

"That head is huge," Yoongi says, nodding to the sculpture at the top of the hill.

"Gaea," Namjoon explains, "it's supposed to be Mother Earth. Most of the stuff is from Roman and
Greek mythology I think, or at least inspired by it. It's really cool to see this one dude's take on
everything."

"It is," Yoongi agrees. "I can't believe someone could just... make this stuff. That head has to be
twenty feet tall."

Namjoon nods eagerly. "I know! It's amazing! And it's hollow!"

"Oh," Yoongi says, cocking an eyebrow. "Is that what you meant when you said you wanted to go
inside the head?"

"Yep, you can see an awesome view from inside, for miles I think." He crumples up his napkin and
the plastic from his sandwich, glancing at where Yoongi is taking his last bite. "Ready?"

The grounds are beautiful, covered in towering statues that make Yoongi feel tiny. Namjoon seems
to be in his element, bouncing between them and exclaiming about the intricacy, the details.
Yoongi thinks they're pretty cool, but he's having more fun just watching Namjoon enjoy himself.
He loves this side of him, like when Namjoon was so excited about the eclipse, eager and bursting
with knowledge and facts. It's something Yoongi knows Namjoon is self conscious about, but he
adores it, loves watching his happiness and enthusiasm.

The only thing Yoongi doesn't love is walking around. Every step over the uneven ground sends
small bursts of pain through his body. He's sore and three hours in a car hasn't helped at all. It's
only served to make his muscles tighter, make the ache in his ass and lower back more
pronounced. But he doesn't complain, just smiling encouragingly as he follows Namjoon up the
hill to the giant head at the top, holding in his whimpers.

"We have to climb inside," Namjoon says, pointing to the head.

Yoongi blinks at him and then peers up at the top of the statue. "Excuse me?"

"There's a hole in the top," he explains. "There's this ladder but it... well, let me give you a boost."

"No, I think I'm -" he doesn't get to finish his sentence, cut off when Namjoon's hands wrap around
his waist and hoist him easily into the air. He squeaks, hands flying to Namjoon's shoulders.

"Fuck," Yoongi hiccups, "you're strong."

So strong, Namjoon's forearms and biceps flexing as he lifts Yoongi like he barely weighs a pound.
His hands nearly span Yoongi's entire waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of his t-shirt. Maybe if
Yoongi wasn't so sore, he'd ask Namjoon to fuck him inside this giant head.
Namjoon grins at him and turns him in his arms, lifting so Yoongi can grab the top of the head and
scramble up. He bites back a groan as pain shoots down his legs and back, but manages to get to
the top, peering down at the ladder leading inside. "This is kind of scary," he says as Namjoon
hauls himself up beside him.

"It's cool," Namjoon argues, "we'll be inside Mother Earth, it's like... a metaphor or something."

Yoongi frowns. "Metaphor for what?"

"I don't know," Namjoon says with a shrug. "Just go with it."

Namjoon grabs the ladder and begins climbing down into the gloomy interior. Yoongi's frown
deepens. "What if there are spiders?" he whines. But Namjoon doesn't respond and Yoongi sighs,
accepting his fate and joining Namjoon in his descent.

The inside of the head is roomier than Yoongi imagined and there are no visible spiders. But it's a
bit dark, the floor a little slippery. Namjoon steadies him with a hand on his waist and smiles,
pointing to the back of the head. There's a window in the... hair? Yoongi isn't really sure but - oh.

"Wow," he breathes, eyes widening. The valley looms before them and Yoongi feels like he can
see for miles, vast stretches of forest and land before them. It's beautiful, captivating. He feels like
he's on top of the world, looking down from in the clouds.

"Yeah," Namjoon agrees, "makes you feel..."

"Small?" Yoongi suggests.

Namjoon huffs, nodding. "Yeah." His arm tightens around Yoongi's waist. "Great vast world and
we're so tiny. Kind of freaky."

"A little," Yoongi says softly. "Makes me feel insignificant."

"You are very significant," Namjoon argues.

Yoongi snorts, because he's not sure what else to do. His heart feels too full and he can feel his
cheeks heating. He swallows hard, looking down at his sneakers. Namjoon's fingers curl beneath
his chin, lifting Yoongi's head until they're eye to eye again. Namjoon smiles at him and leans in,
pressing their lips together.

"You," he whispers against Yoongi's lips. "Are the most significant thing in my life."

Making out inside a giant head in the middle of a weird sculpture park is not something Yoongi
expected to be doing today. But there's a first time for everything. And he can't complain, not as
Namjoon pulls him close and nips at his lower lip. Yoongi winds his arms around Namjoon's neck,
parting his lips as Namjoon traces the seam of his mouth, willing Yoongi to open for him. He does,
feeling Namjoon's tongue press past his lips and tangle with his own.

One of Namjoon's hands comes up to cup his face, thumb tracing over Yoongi's cheekbone as their
mouths move together. Maybe Yoongi doesn't feel so tiny and unimportant here. Not with
Namjoon's hands on him, Namjoon kissing him as if he is something to be treasured.

They break apart after a few minutes, breathing a little more heavily, lips slick and red. Namjoon
looks ready to dive back in but they freeze at the sound of voices around them, other park visitors
come to see the giant head.
Namjoon steps back, keeping one hand on Yoongi's hip. "Don't need to give anyone a free show,"
he says with a wink.

"I don't need to be arrested for public indecency today, Namjoon," Yoongi teases. He glances at
the ladder and grimaces. "Help me out of here?"

"Of course," Namjoon says, supporting Yoongi's hips as he begins to climb. "Wait. You don't want
to be arrested today, so public sex isn't off the table then?"

"Shut up, Namjoon," Yoongi huffs, holding in his laughter as he reaches the top of the ladder.
Namjoon's own laughter echoes off the inside of the head, following Yoongi as he climbs out into
the sunlight.

"You're sure your friends didn't mind watching your apartment a little longer?" Yoongi asks a bit
later when they're back in the car. Namjoon is driving now, hands firmly at two and ten on the
wheel, eyes fixed on the road. Yoongi has the thumb of one hand between his teeth, worrying at
the skin around the nail. A nervous habit he needs to break.

"Oh they don't care," Namjoon says easily, "they're probably snooping through my stuff." He
pauses, considers. "Or fucking in my bed," he says with a frown.

Yoongi laughs, pulling a Cheez-It from the box on his lap and leaning over to pop it in Namjoon's
mouth. "Great friends you have," he teases as Namjoon chews.

"They're insane," Namjoon agrees, "but they're great. I hope you like them."

That's not what Yoongi's worried about. He's sure he'll like Namjoon's friends, he already does for
the most part. Despite his (most likely irrational) jealousy of Jimin, Namjoon's friends are kind and
funny. He's talked to them a few times and they seemed sweet, and besotted with Namjoon. They're
close knit, the four of them having been friends for years. Yoongi's more worried about being
accepted by them.

"What if they don't like me?" he asks, voice soft and a little hesitant.

"Are you kidding?" Namjoon snorts. "They'll love you, babe." He seems so sure, no hint of doubt
in his mind. "They already like you," he explains, "you know I tell Jimin everything."

Yoongi knows, and tries not to let it upset him.

"Jimin says you seem like you're too good for me, too cute and sweet. He says if I'm not lucky, he
and Tae are going to steal you away."

Namjoon is the one who is too good. "You better be careful then," he teases, smiling slightly.
Maybe it will be nice. Yoongi's never been great at making friends but... they do seem good. They
seem like a lot, bright and overzealous, but welcoming. "What about Jungkook?"

"He's shy," Namjoon explains, "so don't be upset if he's quiet at first, doesn't talk to you much. He
takes a while to warm up to people," Namjoon continues, "but he's so excited to meet you."
Namjoon offers him a smile, glancing over quickly. "He wants you to teach him to play piano and
talk to you about Jenny Lewis."

Yoongi grins. "The fact that you don't like Rilo Kiley is truly upsetting," he teases. "At least
Jungkookie will understand me."
The playlist changes then, Japanese Breakfast filling the interior of the car. "At least we can like
Michelle Zauner together." He pauses and a smile stretches his lips. "This is the song I sent you."

"It is," Yoongi confirms. "I like it," he continues, "it makes me think of you."

Yoongi is half turned in his seat so he can face Namjoon, head leaned back against the headrest as
Namjoon talks. Yoongi loves listening to him talk, the cadence of his voice changing as he gets
excited, the way his dimples pop as he smiles unconsciously.

Yoongi lets his eyes slip mostly closed, smiling softly as he listens to his boyfriend talk. He could
do it for hours, days, Namjoon's soft, soothing voice lulling him into tranquility. Namjoon talks
about Denver, how excited he is to show Yoongi his favorite places, take him to his favorite
restaurants. He talks about work and his job as a librarian, about his friends, about his plants.

He watches as Namjoon slowly relaxes as well, leaning back in his seat. One of his hands falls
away from the wheel and he appears more at ease. Yoongi takes the opportunity to grab Namjoon's
hand, pulling it across the console to rest on his knee. Namjoon doesn't comment on it, only smiles
wider as he keeps talking. Yoongi plays with his fingers, loves the way Namjoon's thumb brushes
over his knuckles, how his fingers squeeze into his knee.

"I'm really excited to share all this with you," Namjoon says as he's winding down. "For real, you
know, not through the phone. I know I'm talking a lot, I'm just - I'm really happy."

Yoongi smiles, lifting their clasped hands to brush his lips over Namjoon's knuckles. "I am too," he
says softly. "I'm excited to see everything with you."

Namjoon beams, dimples deep in his cheeks as he grins out the windshield. "You'll love it, I know
it."

They stop to switch again at a rest area, Yoongi frowning slightly when Namjoon insists on getting
something to eat.

"We have sandwiches and snacks in the cooler," he complains, hovering next to the car door. He
worries at the cuticles of one hand with the other, needing to do something with his hands.

"Yeah but I have to pee and I'd rather have something hot. Come on, they have pizza and stuff."

Yoongi doesn't respond, just crosses his arms over his chest still frowning.

"You drank an entire Nalgene, I know you have to pee," Namjoon says with a smile. Yoongi's
frown deepens, he does need to pee. "Come on, it's just a few dollars worth of food."

"I know it's just a few dollars," Yoongi responds, "but we have food in the car. I'm not trying to
waste my money on gas station pizza."

Namjoon rolls his eyes. "First of all, Sbarro is excellent pizza -"

"Ew," Yoongi interrupts.

"And secondly," Namjoon continues as if Yoongi hadn’t spoken, "you just got all that cash from
selling your stuff. Just spend some of that, you're acting like you've got moths coming out of your
wallet."
Yoongi shifts uncomfortably. Maybe he is being a little ridiculous, a little cheap, but… "I'm saving
that for Colorado," Yoongi insists. "So I can pay rent and everything. What if I don't find a job
right away? I need it to last."

"You're fine," Namjoon says with a laugh. "You're worrying way too much, I can always spot
you."

It's obvious Namjoon doesn't get it. He's laughing right now, as if this is nothing and Yoongi is
being silly. Namjoon has never had to worry about not having enough for rent or for his next meal.
Namjoon doesn't have debts and maxed out credit cards. He is sweet and kind and thinks he's being
helpful, but he's naive and it shows.

Sighing, Yoongi forces a smile, he doesn't want to argue. "Okay, Joonie," he says finally. "Let's go
inside."

"Great!" Namjoon grins at him. "I think they have an Auntie Anne's, I'm going to get a pretzel too.
Maybe a smoothie or something."

"Sounds good," Yoongi mumbles, trying not to grimace as Namjoon takes his hand and tows him
towards the building.

Yoongi tries to relax when they're back on the road, hands on the steering wheel as pizza churns in
his belly. He's not sure if the nausea is from the greasy pizza or the conversation with Namjoon.
He pulls one hand away from the wheel, beginning to gnaw on a fingernail. It stings, the pain
grounds him. When he glances over, Namjoon is happily munching on pretzel bites.

"Want one?" Namjoon offers, seeing Yoongi watching. He holds out a cheese-dipped bite of
pretzel.

Yoongi shakes his head, swallowing a mouthful of saliva. "No thanks."

"You okay?" Namjoon asks, peering at him. "You look a little pale."

"Just feeling a little car sick, maybe."

Namjoon immediately sets down his pretzel bites and wipes his hands with a napkin. He reaches
across the seats, pressing a cool palm to the back of Yoongi's neck. Yoongi melts into the touch as
Namjoon's fingers card through his hair. "Want me to drive? I don't mind."

"It's okay," Yoongi croaks. "We'll be at the next stop soon, I'm fine until then."

"Alright," Namjoon agrees. His fingers stroke soothingly along Yoongi's neck. "Just let me know if
you change your mind. Let me get you some water."

"Thanks babe." He can't be upset at Namjoon when he's so sweet and kind. Hell, he can't be mad at
Namjoon anyway. It's not his fault he doesn't get it, and Yoongi hasn't tried that hard to help him
understand.

They make it to their next landmark and climb stiffly from the car. Yoongi groans as he stretches,
body still aching from the previous night and from sitting in the car.
"I'm going to be very happy to lay down."

Namjoon comes up behind him, rubbing Yoongi's shoulders with warm palms. Yoongi can feel the
heat of his skin through his t-shirt and he leans back into the touch with a soft moan.

"Don't stop," Yoongi whines when Namjoon goes to step away.

"Just wait until the hotel, babe," Namjoon replies, kissing his temple. "I promise a very thorough
massage." Namjoon's voice dips low, making Yoongi shiver, even in the August heat.

"That's the only thing getting me through the rest of the drive." He pauses and pulls out his phone.
"And this photo opportunity."

Namjoon eyes him suspiciously. "What opportunity?"

"Go stand in front of the statue." Yoongi nods to the huge statue of a dimpled waitress in the
parking lot before them.

"What? No! Why?" Namjoon looks confused, glancing between Yoongi and the statue. "You stand
by it."

"Nuh uh, I don't have dimples," Yoongi says, poking his own cheek. "Pose with the statue for Hobi
and Seokjin." Yoongi grins. "You're even matching!"

Namjoon glances down at his bright yellow t-shirt. "Oh, fuck you."

"If you're lucky," Yoongi sing-songs, grinning until Namjoon does as he asks. Scowling, Namjoon
stands beside the statue with his arms crossed. "Babe, you look like an angry kid at Disney,"
Yoongi scolds. "Smile!"

"I'm going to get back at you for this," Namjoon huffs, but he drops his arms. He gives the camera
an exaggerated smile, dimples popping.

Yoongi grins and snaps a couple pictures. "You look so cute!" He sends a photo to Hoseok and
Seokjin as Namjoon glowers at him.

"Can we go in the candy store now?" Namjoon asks as Yoongi lowers his phone. "I need an
indecent amount of sugar after that forced embarrassment."

"You're such a baby," Yoongi laughs, crossing the parking lot and linking their arms. "Let's go, I
read that they have all sorts of vintage candy."

Namjoon grins at him as they make their way inside the small store. The entire space is filled with
candy of all colors and sizes. Yoongi watches Namjoon's eyes widen as he takes it in.

"Have I mentioned my sweet tooth?" Namjoon asks as he drags Yoongi towards a display of
vintage candy.

"Once or twice," Yoongi laughs.

He'd mentioned it a few times and Yoongi has seen him polish off bags of cookies and candy on
video call. Namjoon had laughed when Yoongi expressed concern, saying he has a very good
dental plan. Yoongi doesn't think his stomach could handle that much sugar, especially after
watching a stoned Namjoon eat an entire funfetti cake during a movie date.

"I like salty snacks more," Yoongi offers.

Namjoon grins at him, something sly. "Oh, do you now?"

"Pervert," Yoongi hisses. "Get your candy before you get us kicked out of here."

He laughs but does as Yoongi says, moving away to begin browsing the shelves. Yoongi looks
around as well, eyes bulging a little at the prices of the candy. Roadside attractions always have
things that cost an arm and a leg, but this just seems ridiculous. He settles on a single package of
wax bottles, something he loved when he was little, and turns to the counter.

Namjoon is already there, dumping an obscene amount of candy in front of the register. Yoongi
can't help but stare at the steadily climbing total. Namjoon swipes his card with a smile, as if he
didn’t just spend a small fortune on sugar. The nonchalance of it, the lack of thought, makes
Yoongi’s head spin. How can Namjoon be so careless and flippant with his money? And on
something that’s going to be gone in a matter of hours.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Yoongi asks as they walk back to the car a few minutes later.

Namjoon glances down at the bag of candy swinging from his hand. "Sure, I thought it would be
good car snacks. And we can share." He smiles, all bright eyes and deep dimples.

"Oh," Yoongi feels a little breathless in the face of Namjoon's happy smile. "Alright. Um, want me
to drive?"

Namjoon nods. "Sure, we're getting close to the hotel. I'll plug it into the GPS."

"Where are we staying?" Yoongi asks as he slides into the driver's seat.

Fiddling with his seatbelt, Namjoon doesn't answer right away. "What?"

"Where are we staying?" Yoongi repeats.

"Oh, I booked a nice looking Marriott for us. They have breakfast and I think there might even be a
pool." Namjoon is busy settling into his seat, not noticing the look Yoongi is giving him. It's not
until he looks up again, that he sees Yoongi's displeased expression. "What's wrong?"

Yoongi frowns at him. "I thought we said we'd stay at more cost effective places. Like the motel
we stayed in on the way to Boston."

"Ah, right. Well..." Namjoon looks a little uncomfortable. "I didn't really like the motel? The bed
really hurt my back and I just thought we could stay somewhere a little nicer?"

"I know the motel wasn't great, but they are affordable, Namjoon."

"I know that," Namjoon agrees. "But the Marriott really wasn't that much more expensive. Why is
this such a big deal? I want to be comfortable, especially if we're going to be in the car all day.
Doesn't that make sense?"

"I don't have the money for a fancy hotel, Namjoon," Yoongi says diplomatically as he pulls onto
the highway. It doesn't feel like a compromise, doesn't feel like Yoongi should have to compromise
on these things.

"I thought we talked about this already? You have the money from selling your stuff." Namjoon
rummages in his bag of candy. "It's just one night."

"I'm trying to save that," Yoongi reminds him. "And you didn't even ask me."
Namjoon stops rummaging and Yoongi can feel his eyes on the side of his face. "Ask you what?"

"If I was okay with staying somewhere else," Yoongi says. He fights to keep his voice even, to not
snap. "You didn't even ask me."

"I honestly didn't think it mattered, babe," Namjoon replies. "It was only a couple hundred bucks
over three days and I planned to cover the difference for us anyway."

Only a couple hundred dollars. Like it's not a big deal. Like a couple hundred dollars isn't
anything. "That's a lot of money, Namjoon."

"Oh," he sounds baffled. It would be cute, endearing, if it wasn't so infuriating. Namjoon is smart,
brilliant even. He has a Master's degree and can talk about all sorts of things for hours. Yoongi
loves it, loves how intelligent his boyfriend is. But he's only book smart. Namjoon and his
sheltered, comfortable childhood are far away from Yoongi's own experience.

Namjoon never seems to grasp these concepts, can't seem to wrap his head around the fact that
money is not the commodity he believes it is. No matter how much Yoongi tries, and even if
Namjoon seems to get it, it is always short lived. Another situation crops up. This wasn't something
they really had to deal with when they were long distance. Spending habits were none of each
other's business, there was no reason for them to know. But now... now Yoongi has to deal with
Namjoon's champagne taste on his shitty beer budget.

"I can cancel it if you want me to," Namjoon suggests when Yoongi doesn't speak again. "I'm sorry
I didn't ask you."

Yoongi shakes his head, chancing a glance to the side. Namjoon is frowning, eyebrows pinched.
He looks confused and sorry and Yoongi has a hard time staying mad at his puppy dog of a
boyfriend. "It's alright, babe."

"Look, I know you think I'm just making unilateral decisions because I'm a snob -"

Yoongi looks over, surprised. Maybe Namjoon does get it a little more than Yoongi thought.

"But I took a lot of things into consideration," he continues. "The hotel has free Wi-Fi and
breakfast and is more convenient to the cheapest gas station. It may not be the least expensive
place to stay, but it has the amenities we would otherwise need to pay more for. I'm trying to work
with you on things, Yoongs, can't you work with me?"

He can, he should. He said he'd be more open, more trusting. Yoongi isn't doing that, he's not
giving Namjoon a chance. "I can," he mumbles, gaze fixed out the windshield.

"Besides," Namjoon says brightly, "I can just cover it for us, I have planned to."

Yoongi's hands tighten on the steering wheel and he clenches his jaw. "I don't need you to cover
for me, Namjoon," Yoongi says shortly, instantly angry again. He doesn't need to be taken care of
or coddled. Does Namjoon pity him? Is that why he keeps offering to pay or buy him food? Jay had
pitied him, had tried to use him, to change him. Control him with money and gifts and offers of
support.

Namjoon is not like this, Yoongi knows that. Namjoon is kind and thoughtful and genuinely just
wants to help. Yoongi can see that so clearly. But it's hard, hard to convince himself that Namjoon's
genuine kindness isn't a front for something else. It says a lot more about Yoongi than it does
about Namjoon.
"I don't mind," Namjoon says happily, completely missing why Yoongi might be upset as he digs
in his candy bag again. "Want a lollipop?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "Namjoon, I -"

"Oh, I love this song!" Namjoon cuts him off, leaning forward to turn up the volume. Young Blood
comes louder through the speakers, drowning out anything Yoongi was going to say. Namjoon
seems to realize he cut him off and lowers the volume again, turning to him sheepishly. "Sorry,
were you saying something?"

"No," Yoongi murmurs. "It's fine."

Namjoon drifts off to sleep as they enter the last stretch of the drive, the GPS giving him minutes
to the destination instead of hours. Yoongi glances over, taking in Namjoon's curled form. He's soft
in sleep, lips parted and eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. His arms are crossed over his chest
and his temple is against the window, soft snores barely audible over the music.

A tendril of worry curls in Yoongi's gut, makes his hands feel a little clammy. He's biting at the
skin around his index finger, teeth sinking into sensitive skin. It hurts but he can't seem to stop it.

Yoongi's not stupid enough to think that being with Namjoon for real is going to fix his life. He's
not stupid enough to believe that Namjoon Kim is the cure to his depression, a panacea for all his
ills. With or without Namjoon, there is still the reality of Yoongi's life, his sadness, his struggles.
With or without Namjoon, Yoongi is self-destructive. Yoongi is reckless and dives into things
without thinking about them.

Is that what he's done here? Is Seokjin right and Yoongi is just running from his problems towards
something new? Something he can't solve, just another weight to pile onto his shoulders. He feels
tired, tired of running away from everything. Yoongi wants to believe he's doing this for the right
reasons, that he's not running away, he's running to something. Towards a new life and a brighter
future.

Yoongi loves Namjoon. That's true, maybe the truest thing he knows. Despite them not seeing eye
to eye on everything, despite Namjoon's naivety, Yoongi loves him. He is kind and thoughtful,
smart and funny. Namjoon listens to Yoongi and actually hears him, Namjoon wants to love him
despite all of Yoongi's faults. And Yoongi knows he has a lot of those, some that Namjoon doesn't
even know.

Maybe that's part of the fear. That they'll get to Colorado and Yoongi will not be able to hide all of
the bad and broken bits of himself. They'll be around each other all the time, living together.
Yoongi will not be able to hang up or close his computer and hide his flaws and insecurities. What
if Namjoon doesn't like all of him? Can't accept the depression and the anxiety and the moments of
fear. What if Namjoon doesn't really want this, want him?

Yoongi startles, teeth sinking painfully into the skin of his fingertip as he feels a touch on his arm.
He blinks, glancing down to find fingertips brushing his arm. Namjoon is still asleep but his
fingers are curling around Yoongi's elbow, a soft smile on his lips. Maybe... maybe it could be
okay.

The music changes, soft drums and keyboard filling the car, the dreamy sounds of Beach House's
Lover of Mine pulling some of the fear from Yoongi's bones. Namjoon's fingers on his skin,
craving to be close to Yoongi even in his sleep. Yoongi's twenty-something years of pessimism
haven't served him well so far. Maybe he could try to be hopeful, see the good in Namjoon and
everything else.

Yoongi pulls his hand away from his mouth and gently shifts his arm, waiting until Namjoon's
fingers fall away from his skin. He sets his elbow on the center console and slips his fingers
through Namjoon's. Namjoon smiles again in his sleep, letting out a soft sigh. Maybe optimism
wouldn't be too bad.

As much as Yoongi doesn't want to admit it, the hotel is nice. He feels very out of place as they
walk inside the cool hush of the lobby, plush carpeting cushioning their steps as they walk up to the
desk. Namjoon gives the employee a dimpled smile and his name and a minute later, has a little
packet with two key cards.

Yoongi has stayed in nice hotels before, on trips with Seokjin and Hoseok and when Jay took him
to New York City for a weekend. It's not like Yoongi has never stayed at one, but maybe he had
forgotten how nice they are. Everything is clean and neat and fancy. He definitely feels like an
unwashed cat, hovering awkwardly behind Namjoon with his beat up suitcase and backpack.

They ride up in the elevator, something neat and clean with polished doors. The elevator in
Yoongi’s old building in Boston had barely worked for months, he usually took the stairs for fear
of being trapped. It feels a little odd, the swooping sensation in his stomach as they ascend nearly
making him stumble. Namjoon steadies him with a hand on his arm, giving him a concerned look.

“You okay?”

Yoongi nods, leaning into Namjoon’s side. “Just tired.”

“Still sore?” Namjoon asks, rubbing Yoongi’s back.

“Mhm.”

Namjoon’s palm rubs a slow circle over Yoongi’s lower back. “Still want that massage?”

“Please.” He’s been aching for it all day.

The doors open and they step out into the quiet hush of the hall onto more plush carpeting. Yoongi
glances side to side, unsure where to go. Namjoon cocks his head to the left and Yoongi follows
him down the hallway past rows of doors. He stops outside of one and holds up the keycard. The
door beeps and Namjoon sweeps it open, ushering Yoongi inside.

Everything is crisp and clean, neat carpeting, pure white bedding, a mountain of pillows. Half of
the far wall is windows and the television on the dresser in a flatscreen bigger than Yoongi’s ever
owned. The bed must be a king, plush and inviting, a fluffy marshmallow. It looks like Yoongi
could melt right through it.

“Do you want to shower?” Namjoon asks, setting his bag near the end of the bed.

Yoongi glances into the bathroom, all granite and glass with fresh white towels and little bottles of
products lined up. “Not really.” Yoongi almost feels like he’d be dirtying the shower by using it. “I
don’t want to stand up anymore.”

Namjoon snorts, sitting on the end of the bed. “Come here then.”
Yoongi does, stepping away from the bathroom door and back towards Namjoon who spreads his
legs as Yoongi approaches. Yoongi slots himself between Namjoon’s thighs and Namjoon smiles
at him, winding his arms around his back. “Is the room okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says softly, “it’s really nice.”

“Good. Can you relax now?” Yoongi nods and Namjoon smiles again. “Good.”

The arms around Yoongi’s back pull him closer and Namjoon leans in, pressing their lips together.
Yoongi lets himself sink into the kiss, hands braced on Namjoon’s shoulders as their lips move
slowly together. Namjoon seems intent on taking his time, capturing Yoongi’s bottom lip, then the
top, then pecking him on the nose. He noses along Yoongi's jaw before returning to his lips.

Namjoon’s tongue slides across Yoongi’s bottom lip and Yoongi opens for him, squeezing into
Namjoon’s shoulders. Their tongues massage together, hot and wet and perfect. Yoongi sighs into
the kiss, leaning nearly all of his weight into Namjoon’s chest. The kiss breaks slowly, with soft,
languid pecks, until Namjoon leans back to look at him.

“You look so sleepy,” he coos, “do you just want to go to bed?”

Yoongi pouts, shaking his head. “I was promised a massage.”

“Then a massage you shall receive,” Namjoon announces with a grin. “Step back.”

Yoongi does as he’s told and Namjoon stands, slipping his fingers beneath Yoongi’s t-shirt to pull
his shirt over his head. He unfastens Yoongi’s jeans next, getting them open and pulling them
down his legs. Crouching, Namjoon helps Yoongi step out of each pant leg, smiling up at him. He
stands again and seems to consider for a moment, before removing Yoongi’s underwear as well.

The cold air on his skin makes Yoongi shiver and he suddenly feels exposed, like he should cover
himself. His hands twitch towards his groin, moving to cover his soft cock.

Namjoon grabs his wrists. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s
forehead. Namjoon steps to the side and nods to the bed. “Lay on your stomach?”

The blankets are soft beneath Yoongi’s bare skin, soft and cool as he shimmies up the bed and
flops onto his stomach. They feel as fluffy as he imagined, the mattress soft and cushiony. He
definitely could melt into all these sheets and pillows, melt right through the floor.

Yoongi hears the sound of rustling cloth and turns to see Namjoon removing his shirt and shorts.
He keeps his boxers on and leans over, digging through his bag. When he straightens, he has a
bottle of lotion in his hand.

“I thought you were going to relax,” Namjoon chides as he climbs onto the bed.

“I am relaxing,” Yoongi grumbles, turning his neck back around and settling his cheek on his
crossed arms.

“Sure you are,” Namjoon teases, “but you will be by the time I’m done with you.”

The mattress dips as Namjoon draws closer and Yoongi feels warm hands on his legs, Namjoon’s
fingertips squeezing into his calves and sliding up towards his knees. Goosebumps erupt on his
skin and he can’t help but shiver.

"Just relax," Namjoon whispers.

Yoongi closes his eyes, willing himself to settle. He hears the pop of a cap and the smell of
coconut fills the room. A moment later, Namjoon's hands return to his skin, sliding up his legs
smoothly with the help of lotion. His fingers press into the muscle, gently kneading as he slides
them up and down.

Fingers close around his knees and spread his legs before sliding up his thighs. The mattress shifts
again as Namjoon moves to kneel between his legs. Namjoon's palms slide up his thighs and over
his ass to his back. Yoongi groans as Namjoon leans into the touch, applying pressure to his
shoulders.

"Feel okay?" Namjoon asks. Yoongi can only groan in response.

A soft chuckle and the mattress shifts again as Namjoon repositions. Fingertips press into the back
of Yoongi's neck, kneading the taut muscle and moving down to his shoulders. He can feel the
knots in his shoulder blades, at the top of his spine. Namjoon presses into them, swirling and
rubbing with patient fingers to tease him into a puddle of jelly. Slowly, bit by bit, Yoongi begins to
relax. Namjoon hums softly as he works, something a little off key that Yoongi can't place.

Namjoon's hands move to Yoongi's arms, rubbing from his shoulders down his biceps and
forearms. He takes one of Yoongi's hands and kneads the heels of his palms, stretches his fingers.
Yoongi hears the disapproving click of Namjoon's tongue when he takes in the torn cuticles and
skin around his fingernails. Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed, tries to pull his hand away.

"No hiding," Namjoon orders, not letting go of Yoongi's hand. It sounds like Namjoon is talking
about a lot more than Yoongi's chewed fingernails.

His arm is stretched up, Namjoon's fingers curling around his own. Then lips, soft and gentle,
plush, brushing over his knuckles, his bitten nails. Namjoon presses soft, barely there kisses to the
hurt skin. The act makes something ache in Yoongi's chest, makes him almost want to cry.

Namjoon lowers Yoongi's arm gently to the bed and repeats the action with Yoongi's other hand,
nuzzling into his palm before dusting his fingertips with kisses. When he's satisfied, he returns to
Yoongi's back. His fingers press and swirl over the muscles, tracing the curve of Yoongi's shoulder
blades, the line of his spine.

Yoongi giggles, squirming on the mattress as Namjoon's fingers run over his ribs. Namjoon
chuckles softly and presses in harder, rubbing Yoongi's sides before dragging his hands back to his
spine. He works his palms over either side of Yoongi's spine like he would knead bread, like a cat
searching for a comfortable spot. Yoongi groans again as his back cracks and his muscles loosen.

This is exactly what he needed. He can feel the soreness bleeding out of him, the fatigue and
weariness from a long day on the road. It's been exhausting, not just the drive but everything with
it. Yoongi's racing mind and anxious thoughts weighing him down. It's amazing to let them go for
now, to feel them leech out of his body with every nimble movement of Namjoon's fingers.

He moans softly as Namjoon's hands move to his hips, rubbing soothingly over his waist and
digging into his lower back. He arches into it, ass pressing into the air as Namjoon's fingers
squeeze into his lumbar region, where his body feels the most sore. He can feel the ache washing
away, feel the pain receding.

Namjoon leans over him, Yoongi can feel his warmth hovering over his body, and presses his lips
to the nape of Yoongi's neck. He trails them over his shoulders and down his spine. "Relax,"
Namjoon breathes, when he feels Yoongi tensing.
And somehow, Yoongi does. He lets himself melt, going boneless as Namjoon's kisses head lower.
Then the hands move lower, sliding over his ass. They disappear and Yoongi fights not to whimper
at the loss. The sound of a cap opening again, another burst of coconut, and then Namjoon's hands
are on his ass cheeks.

He squeezes into the flesh, kneading and working his fingers deep into the skin. Namjoon pulls his
cheeks apart and pushes them together, rubbing soothing circles and spirals into Yoongi's skin.

And Yoongi is not unaffected. Namjoon's hands are on his ass, fingers just barely skimming
between his cheeks. Beneath him, his cock is chubbing up against the mattress. Trapped under him,
the friction as his body shifts on the bed with Namjoon's ministrations is driving him toward full
hardness. The touch, the kisses, Namjoon in general, has arousal singing through Yoongi's veins.

Yoongi is pushing subtly onto his knees, pressing his ass more firmly into Namjoon's hands.
Seeking more, craving Namjoon's fingers inside of him. He doesn't realize he's doing it until
Namjoon's chuckles, breathing out a low eager. Yoongi feels his skin heating, cheeks flushing, but
he can't help it.

"Joonie," Yoongi whispers, voice sounding fucked out already.

Namjoon chuckles again, his fingertips skimming between Yoongi's cheeks again, just barely
ghosting over his hole. "I said the massage would be thorough," Namjoon murmurs, "just be
patient."

Patience seems like a very foreign concept right now when Namjoon's fingers are millimeters from
his hole. But he does as Namjoon says, feeling fingertips skimming over his perineum and onto his
balls. Namjoon cradles his balls in one hand, rolling them gently between his fingers, soft squeezes
and tugs. Beneath him, Yoongi's cock begins to leak against his belly.

Another wave of coconut scent fills the room as Namjoon opens the lotion bottle. Hands on him
again, fingers dimpling Yoongi's cheeks as Namjoon spreads him open, exposing his entrance. The
tips of Namjoon's thumbs press to the edges of his hole, stretching him open.

"So pretty," Namjoon praises. "Definitely need to make sure I'm thorough," Namjoon declares,
thumbs stroking over Yoongi's hole. "I'm a very serious masseuse."

Yoongi wants to laugh, make a joke about his professionalism. But before he can, Namjoon pushes
the tip of a thumb into him. Yoongi moans, arching into Namjoon’s touch, desperate for him to be
deeper.

“Needy baby,” Namjoon murmurs. “I thought you were sore.”

“Feels good,” Yoongi rasps, “want you.” He is sore, despite Namjoon’s soothing touch, his back
still aches and his hole feels a little raw. But he doesn’t care, he just wants to be close to Namjoon
again. “Just go slow?”

Namjoon hums, thumb sinking deeper into Yoongi’s hole, stretching his rim. “Course, baby,” he
purrs.

The thumb inside of him pulls away and Yoongi clenches around nothing, holding in a whimper at
the emptiness. A moment later, a pillow is slid beneath his hips, Namjoon helping him lift a little
to put it in place. He hears the bottle of lotion being opened again, a soft squelch as Namjoon must
be pouring more on his hands. Yoongi has half a mind to ask Namjoon if it’s safe to be inside of
him, but Namjoon begins circling his entrance before he can.
Any of Yoongi’s protests die in his throat as the pad of Namjoon’s finger traces his rim, stroking
over the puckered skin. He moans, toes curling, as the finger slides slowly into his hole. It stings, a
dull ache that Yoongi knows is from overuse. But Yoongi settles in, ignoring the burn, knowing it
will fade as pleasure overtakes it.

Namjoon's hands are big, like everything about him, it's something Yoongi noticed right away.
And with those hands come big fingers. Long and shapely, with thick knuckles that Yoongi can
feel catching on his rim, dragging along his walls. The pads of his fingers are always so smooth,
accompanied by neatly trimmed nails. The way Namjoon presses inside of him, gentle and slow,
filling Yoongi up with just one finger, is perfect. Much more perfect than anyone else he's been
with, that his own fingers or the stash of toys he kept beneath his bed.

One of Yoongi's favorite ways to get off, before he and Namjoon actually met in person, was to the
thought of Namjoon's fingers. Yoongi with two or three of his own fingers in his hole, two fingers
on the other hand stuffed into his mouth. He'd drool around them, desperate cries muffled around
his slick digits as he pretended it was Namjoon's fingers inside of him.

Nothing could have prepared Yoongi for the real thing and how good it would feel.

He squirms when Namjoon lines up a second finger, pressing both of them into Yoongi in one slick
glide. "Shh," Namjoon soothes, "I've got you."

It's easy to listen, to relax his body and melt against the blankets, with Namjoon above him.
Namjoon's quiet voice whispering soft praise and reassurance, Namjoon's fingers moving slowly
inside him, other hand squeezing and stroking the fat of his ass. The fingers inside of him spread
and scissor, the sting fading as Namjoon strokes them over his walls. Yoongi cries out, muffling
his gasps into his arms, when Namjoon brushes his prostate. It feels swollen already, hyper
sensitive as Namjoon's fingertips rub at the gland.

The third finger doesn't hurt as much as Yoongi expects it to, but he still whines a little at the
stretch. His rim is already sore and he can imagine it's going to only heighten with Namjoon's cock
in him. But the pleasure is there too, Namjoon's fingers inside of him, teasing his prostate with
every thrust.

"I could just get you off like this," Namjoon whispers. "Don't need to fuck you if it's too much. I
don't want to hurt you."

A gentleman, thoughtful and sweet. But Yoongi is desperate for Namjoon inside of him. "Want
you, Joonie," he rasps, drooling onto his arms and the sheets below him. "Just need -"

"I know," Namjoon murmurs, pressing a kiss to Yoongi's shoulder blade. "I need you too."

Slowly, Namjoon withdraws his fingers, sliding them as gently as possible past Yoongi's abused
rim. He can't help but whine and wince at the sensation. Namjoon murmurs soft comforts, dusting
his shoulders and back with kisses before pushing himself up onto his knees.

"Condom?"

"I don't want to use one if you..."

"I'd rather not either," Namjoon confesses, "I like to feel you. Cleaning up would be easier after,
but there's a tub..."

Yoongi hums, shifting slightly on the mattress to look over his shoulder. "Can we both fit?"
"Mhm."

Yoongi smiles, slow and lazy. "That sounds nice."

"Raw dog it is," Namjoon declares, landing a soft slap on Yoongi's ass.

Snorting, Yoongi buries his face back in his arms. "Way to ruin the moment," he huffs. "You are
the worst."

"And you still love me." Hands grip Yoongi's hips. "Roll onto your side," he encourages, squeezing
Yoongi's waist until he follows his directions.

They shift around on the bed, Namjoon gently guiding him until Yoongi is where he wants him. He
winds up with his head on the pillows, curled on his side with his legs up close to his chest.
Namjoon fits himself against Yoongi's back, pressing his chest flush against him and gripping one
of his thighs. He lifts it up and back, hooking it over his own leg.

"Tell me if it's too much," he whispers, then he's guiding his cock into Yoongi's hole.

Yoongi moans as Namjoon's cock presses past his rim, slick with coconut lotion. The slide is,
thankfully, easy, and the pain is minimal. It stings, as Yoongi expected it would, a dull ache and
burn as his rim stretches to accommodate Namjoon's girth. But it's worth it, feeling so good.

Namjoon places a hand on Yoongi's belly as he slides all the way in, holding Yoongi close against
him. He swirls his fingers in soft circles as he waits for Yoongi to adjust, lips pressed to Yoongi's
neck. Yoongi gets lost in the feeling of Namjoon's mouth on his neck, soft kisses and teasing nips
to his sensitive skin. His body relaxes, the pain subsiding as he becomes nearly boneless in
Namjoon's embrace.

The first roll of Namjoon's hips is slow, delicious and deep inside of him. Yoongi feels so full,
Namjoon reaching places Yoongi didn't even know he could. His cock carving out a path inside of
him, pulsing against his walls as he moves. Namjoon holds him close, nuzzling the back of his
neck. Yoongi slides a hand down his own chest, placing it over Namjoon's hand on his stomach.
Their fingers slow together, clammy with sweat.

There's barely any pain like this, as they move together and Namjoon stays slow, gentle. The
position has Namjoon's cock pressed against his prostate, stimulating it with every shift and thrust.
Heat curls in Yoongi's belly, his balls tightening with every thrust. He can tell Namjoon is on edge,
his hips twitching with the urge to pound into Yoongi as hard as he can, to chase pleasure.

"I'm close," Namjoon whispers, a confirmation of Yoongi's thoughts.

Namjoon slides their linked hands down Yoongi's belly, curling his fingers around Yoongi's
weeping cock. Yoongi keens, back arching against Namjoon's chest at the contact. His cock aches
with need, he hadn't realized how desperately he needed to be touched until Namjoon's hand was
on him. It's almost painful, as Namjoon begins jerking him off in time with his thrusts, Yoongi's
cockhead so sensitive he feels like he could scream.

He comes with a strangled moan, his orgasm taking him by surprise when Namjoon squeezes the
head of his cock just right. His entire body clenches, curling up in Namjoon's embrace as he covers
their intertwined fingers with his release.

"Fuck," Namjoon gasps, hips jerking. "I fucking love you."

Yoongi feels his cock twitch, feels Namjoon spill inside of him with a desperate moan and quick
thrusts, burying himself deep. It feels hot, Namjoon's cum painting his walls as Yoongi trembles
and whimpers through his own orgasm and the mind-numbing come down.

It's moments like these, as Yoongi reaches euphoria, held in the circle of Namjoon's arms, love
whispered into his skin, that he thinks things can truly be okay.

After they manage to untangle themselves, Namjoon scoops Yoongi off the bed bridal style,
carrying him easily into the bathroom. If Yoongi wasn't so spent and sore, he's sure he'd be hard
again just from the evidence of how strong his boyfriend is. Namjoon runs a bath and deposits
Yoongi into the tub, climbing in behind him and pulling him close.

"Feel okay?" Namjoon asks, trailing his fingers up and down Yoongi's damp chest.

Yoongi nods against his shoulder, blinking away the sleep tugging at him. "Feel good," he
murmurs, "sore."

"The massage was supposed to help that," Namjoon chuckles, "I guess the sex probably won't
though."

Snorting, Yoongi turns his head, peeling his eyes open to smile at Namjoon. "You knew this would
end in sex, you said a thorough massage."

"Well, yeah, but we could have done something else, where my dick wasn't inside you."

"Mm, I wanted it though," Yoongi says softly, cuddling more firmly against Namjoon's chest.
"Like being close to you."

Namjoon doesn't respond, just nuzzles his nose against Yoongi's temple. Sleep drags at him,
pulling at Yoongi as he lounges in the warm water. Namjoon's lips brush over his temple and he
squeezes Yoongi a little tighter, as if he's worried he'll disappear. "I love you."

Yoongi is asleep before he can answer.

Yoongi wakes up in bed, cradled in Namjoon's arms. He doesn't remember getting back into bed,
Namjoon must have carried him again. The sun is just barely peeking through the edge of the
curtains, still early morning. Yoongi hates to admit how comfortable the bed is, soft blankets and
cushy pillows, like sleeping on a cloud. He sighs, snuggling more firmly into Namjoon's embrace.

"Good morning," Namjoon whispers behind him, voice low with sleep.

Yoongi smiles against the pillow, squeezing his eyes closed. "Morning, Joonie."

"You sore, baby?"

Yoongi chances a stretch, squirming in Namjoon's arms. There's an ache in his back and his ass
definitely feels sore, but it could be worse. "Not bad," Yoongi says around a yawn. "I think I might
need another massage though."

"Mm," Namjoon hums, kissing the back of his neck, "that can be arranged."

A feast. There's no other word to describe what is in front of him, filling the counters and tables
around the perimeter of the room. He's sure his eyes are as big as the apples piled on one corner of
the counter across from him.

"This is... free?" Yoongi whispers.

Namjoon squeezes his waist, smiling down at him. "It's all included, like the Wi-Fi and the dirty
movie channels."

"There was free porn?"

Laughing, Namjoon tugs him forward into the breakfast room. "That was an exaggeration, but we
could have ordered some."

Despite how sore he is, Yoongi shivers at Namjoon's words, at the thought. "Maybe next time..."
he murmurs.

Namjoon laughs, leading Yoongi to a table where they can set their backpacks. "Maybe we could
record our own," he suggests, giving Yoongi a sly smile.

"Namjoon Kim, do not try to proposition me in front of this breakfast banquet." Yoongi's
disapproving frown melts away under Namjoon's smile. "But I could be into that..."

Yoongi's plate is heavy enough that he needs two hands to carry it back to the table. He digs in as
soon as he sits down, eggs and bacon and pancakes, yogurt and fruit. Oatmeal has never been one
of his favorite things, but he has a steaming bowl beside his mug of coffee and glass of juice.

"You can always get seconds," Namjoon says gently as Yoongi shoves a forkful of pancakes into
his mouth. "Slow down before you choke."

Swallowing, Yoongi glances down at the ruin of his plate of food. "I'm just hungry," he mumbles.

It's something he's not used to, this is nothing like the shitty Chinese buffet a few blocks over from
his old apartment in Boston. This is what his friends who are better off are used to, his friends who
don't have food insecurity and worry about their next paycheck. They stay at fancy hotels and eat
giant breakfast buffets. And they, like Namjoon nonchalantly scrolling on his phone across the
table, think nothing of it.

"Bags are already in the car, I'm going to go check out," Namjoon says, wiping his hands on a
napkin. "Are you almost done?"

Yoongi nods around another mouthful of food. "Yeah I'll meet you out there."

Namjoon pecks his cheek and strides off with a final wave. Yoongi takes a moment to breathe,
patting his bulging belly. His stomach hurts a little, feeling more full than he can ever remember.
He definitely over ate, probably shouldn't have had so much, but he felt a little frantic the entire
time.

Glancing around him, Yoongi unzips his backup and shoves some of the miniature cereal boxes
and fruit he gathered from the buffet into his bag. They'll make good snacks for the road,
especially the fruit. Fresh produce is always expensive, a luxury, he'll take as much as he can.
Hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders, Yoongi shoves a final banana into his pants pocket and
follows Namjoon.

"All set?" Namjoon asks from beside the car as Yoongi steps out of the hotel. The quiet hush and
cushy carpet left behind. It feels weird, like stepping back into the real world after a dream.
 "I'm good, ready to go?"

"Absolutely, I'll drive first." Namjoon takes Yoongi's backpack and sets it in the backseat. He turns
back, leaning in to give Yoongi a kiss. He pauses with his hand on Yoongi's waist. "Babe?"

Yoongi blinks at him, half on his toes to accept the kiss. "What?" he asks, leaning back on his
heels.

"Is that a banana in your pocket or is - oh, there is actually a banana in your pocket. I..." he trails
off, blinking at Yoongi in confusion.

Cheeks heating, Yoongi pulls the banana from his pocket, and smiles shyly. "Snacks?"

Namjoon laughs and leans back in, capturing Yoongi's lips in a sweet kiss. He pulls back just a
little, smiling as he nuzzles their noses together. "I hope you grabbed me one too."

As Namjoon starts the car, Capital Cities Safe and Sound filters through the speakers. It's a good
song to start the day on, hopeful and bright. Yoongi feels it here, content and happy with Namjoon.
But no matter how safe and sound he feels, Yoongi notices, as he settles in for the drive, that his
cuticles are bleeding where he’s been biting them.

Chapter End Notes

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 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

Don't forget to check out the playlist here!!

Thank you as always to Sumi for the beta on this and all chapters, your help making
this one perfect was so appreciated!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Are your fingers okay?"

Yoongi blinks, glancing towards Namjoon at the sound of his voice. Airiel is coming softly
through the speakers and he had gotten lost in the melody of In Your Room, humming quietly
along. He looks down, noticing his hand raised to his lips, finger in his mouth. He withdraws it
slowly, sheepishly, curling his hand into a fist when he sees the torn skin and bitten nails. "They're
fine," he mutters.

Namjoon doesn't respond right away, just hums in acknowledgement, eyes fixed out the windshield
as he drives. "I used to bite my lips," he says finally.

"What?" Yoongi glances at him again, Namjoon still isn't looking his way.

"It was a nervous habit. If I was stressed or anxious I'd bite my lips, mostly the bottom one, tear off
the first layer of skin. I'd do it until they bled and were swollen." His tongue darts out, wetting his
lower lip. "I mostly stopped, replaced it with other things."

Yoongi swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. He knows he can't hide his hands.
Namjoon saw them last night and has seen Yoongi continue to bite his nails. It's embarrassing all
the same. But this is something he didn't expect, Namjoon with a similar habit. "How did you
stop?" Yoongi asks.

"I missed eating spicy food," he quips, shooting Yoongi a grin. Yoongi snorts and Namjoon turns
away before continuing. "Seriously though, it was hard. I found other coping mechanisms." A
pause. "I saw a therapist for a while."

"Oh." Namjoon seems so perfect and put together, Yoongi is honestly surprised that he has seen a
therapist. Though maybe that's dismissive, Yoongi's not the only person allowed to have anxiety
and depression. Yoongi licks his lips, studying the side of Namjoon's face. "I used to see someone."

"I figured," Namjoon responds. When Yoongi doesn't respond he glances over, taking in his
stricken expression. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, "that came out wrong. I don't mean that I think
you seem crazy or anything. I just, you know, your pills."

The antidepressants. "Ah, right."

"Why don't you talk to anyone anymore?" Namjoon asks cautiously.

"I thought I was doing better," Yoongi admits. "And the cost. I'd maybe like to again…"
"That's a good idea, it's always nice to have an objective third party to talk to. Especially with big
changes, maybe I'll see someone too. We could even go together?" Namjoon suggests.

Yoongi shrugs, looking down at his lap. "Maybe. I think I'd like to start on my own."

"Of course, whatever you want to do. I have a lot of resources, I can give you some numbers when
we get to Denver." Namjoon smiles at him then, soft and sweet, hopeful.

Yoongi returns the smile, a little shakily. "Thanks, Namjoon."

"Anything for you," Namjoon says softly, removing one hand from the wheel to set it on Yoongi's
thigh, squeezing his knee. He slides his hand up until he can grab one of his hands. Lifting it to his
lips, Namjoon kisses the pads of his fingers. "Jungkookie used to bite his nails, he paints them now.
Maybe he could do yours."

Curling his fingers around Namjoon's, Yoongi gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "That sounds
nice."

Namjoon gives him one last smile before refocusing on the road.

They’re quiet for a while, listening to the music as Namjoon drives. They pull off the highway at
an exit to see a historic covered bridge that Namjoon goes wide eyed for. Yoongi smiles, loving
how Namjoon lights up as he reads the brass plaque. They snap a few selfies in front of the bridge;
silly faces, smiles, Namjoon leaning in to press a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek for the last one. Yoongi
sends them to Hoseok and Seokjin, except for the kiss, he keeps that one just for himself.

Namjoon hops back in the driver’s seat when they get back on the road, saying he’s fine to drive a
while longer. They can stop at a rest area in a bit, fill up on gas and use the bathroom.

Reaching for the radio, Namjoon turns the music down and glances at Yoongi. “Do you mind if I
call Jimin?” he asks. “I want to check in.”

“Go ahead,” Yoongi says easily, settling back in his seat.

Namjoon hits a button on his steering wheel, waiting for a beep. “Call Jimin,” he says, slowly and
clearly. The car beeps again and repeats the phrase before the screen changes, Jimin’s name and a
Calling icon showing up.

“Joonie! Hi!” Jimin’s voice comes through the car speakers, bright and cheerful. He sounds like
the human embodiment of bubbles.

Yoongi watches Namjoon’s face change, watches him smile as Jimin greets him. “Hey Minnie,
you’re on speaker. Yoongi is here too.”

“Ooh!” Jimin gasps. “Yoongi, hi!”

“Hi Jimin,” Yoongi responds, feeling a little silly, a lot shy.

“I can’t wait until you guys get here. We’re all so excited to meet you, Yoongi, it’s going to be so
great!” Jimin does sound genuinely excited, it makes Yoongi smile a little. “You have to let me
take you to some of my favorite places. Do you like sushi – of course you like sushi! Only Joonie
doesn’t like sushi, he’s such a stick in the mud!”
Namjoon snorts. “Stop trying to steal my boyfriend before you even meet him, Jimin.”

“Try and stop me,” Jimin says with a laugh. “He’s such a cutie, I’m going to snap him right up if I
can.”

Yoongi squirms in his seat, feeling himself blushing at the attention. He’s excited to meet Jimin,
excited to meet all of Namjoon’s friends, but he’s nervous. Especially in the face of Namjoon’s
supermodel-hot best friends who all seem to be social and talented. Yoongi feels like he’s in a
completely different league.

“I’ll tell Taehyung, how do you think he’d feel about you saying all this?” Namjoon challenges.

Jimin’s chiming laughter fills the car. “Taehyungie thinks he’s cute too, and he’s right here. Babe,
say hi.”

There’s a shuffling and then a deeper voice that Yoongi recognizes as Taehyung. “Hi Namjoon, hi
Yoongi.”

“Hi Tae, how are my plants?”

“Oh they’re fine,” Taehyung says dismissively, “you know how Jungkook is -”

More shuffling and then Jimin’s voice again. “He’s been singing to them, Namjoon. It’s adorable,
really, I walked in the other day to him singing a lullaby to your ficus. He was mortified. So cute!
Anywho! How’s the drive?”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says, rolling his eyes pointedly at Jimin’s story. “Long, and we’re tired, you
know. But it’s not bad, nice to spend time together.”

Yoongi smiles at that, leaning toward Namjoon and curling his hand around Namjoon’s elbow. He
gets a smile in return, Namjoon shooting him a quick wink before turning back to the road.

“Oh that is just too sweet, this is like Romeo and Juliet or something. Star crossed lovers traveling
across the country together.” He sighs dreamily. “It’s so romantic.”

“I feel like your references might be a little off,” Yoongi offers, chuckling.

Jimin laughs again, bright and happy. “Fair, I just like Leo in that movie. So hot!”

“Hopefully no poison or stabbings in this story, Min,” Namjoon adds. ”Though Yoongi does have a
pocketknife.”

“The plot thickens! Anyway, important question! Yoongi, darling, do you have any allergies or
anything?”

“Um.” Yoongi glances over at Namjoon in confusion. Namjoon only shrugs, shaking his head.
“Not that I know of.”

“Lovely, excellent. We’re organizing your welcome home slash welcome to your new home party
and I just want everything to be perfect.”

A party? That seems like a lot. Yoongi shifts nervously, fingers tightening on Namjoon’s arm. He
hopes there won’t be too many people, just meeting Namjoon’s best friends seems daunting.

“Jimin,” Namjoon begins, sounding wary, “what party? We didn’t discuss a party.”
Jimin huffs. “Just Tae and Kookie and me, I promise!” he insists. “We just wanted to do something
nice for when you arrive, just food and drinks, nothing big.”

“You promise? We’ll be tired and I don’t want to overwhelm Yoongi. You, Jimin Park, are
overwhelming enough.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Jimin giggles. “Just us, we can do something bigger when
Yoongi is comfortable. And maybe we can all go out on the weekend? We could go to one of your
favorite places, hot pot and maybe that weird bar you like?”

Yoongi zones out a little as Namjoon and Jimin talk, gushing about their favorite bars and
restaurants as they try to settle on future plans. It’s a long list of places Yoongi has never heard of,
names and places and destinations he has no experience with. It’s a little mind boggling, almost
like they’re speaking another language in front of him.

Jimin is nice, Yoongi knows this. He’s sweet and kind and seems like a great guy. It hits Yoongi
suddenly, out of the blue, that Namjoon has a whole life without him. Obviously this is something
he knows, has known. Namjoon has a life with friends and favorite things and places, a life he is
returning to. And that was fine when Yoongi also had a life and his friends. It was fine because
they were on equal ground. But now he’s returning to his normal life and bringing Yoongi along
with him. And Yoongi has nothing.

“Oh!” Jimin’s excited exclamation surprises Yoongi from his thoughts. “How about karaoke, you
love karaoke!”

Yoongi blinks, confused, he was pretty sure Namjoon hated singing, especially in front of people.
He mentioned being dragged to karaoke and hating it. “I thought you didn’t like karaoke,” Yoongi
says softly.

Namjoon glances at him and smiles, flashing dimples. “I don’t, not really,” he explains, “it’s an
inside joke.”

“Oh.” Yoongi feels a little out of the loop, sinking back into his seat as the conversation moves on.

It’s stupid, stupid to be upset. Objectively, Yoongi knows he doesn’t really know Namjoon that
well. He doesn’t know all the intricacies and details of his life. Yoongi really only knows the
Namjoon he spent over a year talking to through a screen. He’s met the real Namjoon now, found
him to be just the same, just as wonderful, but that’s only the surface. There’s so much more to
Namjoon and his life, his life that Yoongi is about to see and hopefully join. It won’t be all about
Yoongi and Namjoon anymore like it was on their trip. Namjoon has a circle of friends and a job, a
routine he will return to. Yoongi is just tagging along, bringing nothing to the table.

“Yoongi doesn’t like sweets that much,” Namjoon says. Yoongi blinks, pulling back from his
thoughts at the sound of his name. He doesn’t need to spiral right now.

“Then why does he like you,” Jimin coos, “the sweetest boy in the entire world?”

Yoongi can tell that Jimin and Namjoon are close, already knew they were. It’s clear Jimin knows
Namjoon better than anyone else, which makes sense, they’ve been best friends for years. But it
doesn’t mean it doesn’t make Yoongi feel a little irrationally jealous.

Another eye roll from Namjoon, a snort. “You’re ridiculous,” he chides, but there’s no heat behind
it. “Just don’t go overboard, okay? We’re going to want to pretty much go to bed when we get in."

“Oh I bet you will.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon warns.

Another tittering laugh. “Fine, fine. Tae and I are going to get our nails done, I need to hang up.
Text later, ya?”

“Alright, tell Kook I say hi if you see him.”

“We will, he misses you! Bye boys, can’t wait to see you Yoongi!”

Yoongi clears his throat. “You too, Jimin.”

“Drive safely,” Taehyung says, voice muffled.

With one last goodbye, Namjoon presses a button to end the call. He immediately slumps in his
seat, letting out a long sigh. “I love him,” Namjoon says, “but he’s exhausting.”

Yoongi laughs, smiling despite himself. “I sometimes feel that way about my friends.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I mean it almost as a compliment. He’s just go, go, go all the time and I just
want to lay down.” Namjoon smiles at him. “They’re really excited to meet you, they’re going to
love you.”

Hopefully. Having Namjoon’s friends like him is important. And Yoongi wants friends in
Colorado, Namjoon’s friend group is a good place to start. “I’m nervous, but they seem really
nice.”

“I promise they are,” Namjoon assures him. “Just be careful, Jimin may really try to steal you.”
Namjoon removes a hand from the steering wheel so he can take Yoongi’s hand. “You are very
cute.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbles, cheeks heating. He looks down at his lap as Namjoon squeezes his
hand.

“I will not,” Namjoon says happily. “Rest area in a few miles, want to stop?”

Yoongi glances out the window at the signs passing them. He could stop, stretch his legs and go
pee. “Yeah, I should call Seokjin and Hoseok too.”

“You can do it now,” Namjoon suggests.

“Oh, no, I’ll just do it there, walk and stretch my legs a bit.” He’d like a bit of privacy.

Namjoon nods, seeming to catch on. “Sure, babe, whatever you want.”

They go their separate ways at the rest area, Namjoon heading to get gas while Yoongi goes inside
to use the bathroom. When he’s finished, he pulls out his phone, setting off toward a small cluster
of picnic tables on the far side of the parking lot. Seokjin answers almost immediately.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Yoongi responds, sinking onto one of the benches. “What’s up?”

Seokjin snorts. “Oh, Mr. Casual. What’s up he says to me like he’s not on a cross-country road trip
after abandoning me.”
Yoongi’s lips tug up into a smile. He props his elbow on the worn surface of the picnic table,
leaning his cheek on his palm. “I’m just trying to be polite. Isn’t that a normal way to start a
telephone conversation?”

“I guess,” Seokjin huffs. “I’m fine, Hobi is fine, nothing is up. How are you?”

“Fine.”

A beat of silence. “Are things okay?’

Of course Seokjin can tell Yoongi’s anxious, he’s always been able to see right through him. “I’m
okay.” He thinks he means it. “I’m just – I don’t know.”

“What are you feeling?” Seokjin prompts, voice gentle.

Yoongi sighs and digs the toe of his sneaker into the dirt below him. “I don’t know. I’m nervous
about meeting Namjoon’s friends and getting there.” He pauses. “And just, like, money stuff… the
usual.”

“I see,” Seokjin says. He hums softly and there’s a pause before he speaks again. “I’m not going to
sugar coat this, Yoongi. I’ll say it as nicely as I can, but hear me out?”

“Alright…” Yoongi answers warily.

“I think,” Seokjin begins, voice careful, “you need to lighten up about the money stuff.”

“What?” Yoongi is instantly on edge, hackles raised and annoyed. Seokjin usually gets this stuff.
His family weren’t exactly rich, but they were better off than Yoongi’s. Seokjin has worked hard,
put in the effort and now has a good job, steady high-earning income. Maybe he doesn’t understand
anymore. “This is important, Seokjin. I’m not going to –“

“Stop,” Seokjin interrupts. “I get it, you know I do. But you’re just hurting yourself here. You act
like your relationship with Namjoon is an accounting of things, everything needing to be equal.
You’re like this with Hoseok and me too.”

Frowning, Yoongi sits up straighter. “I’m not.”

“You are. You don’t like to owe people. Which is fine,” Seokjin continues, before Yoongi
interrupts him, “but you’re too literal about it. Me buying you a donut and Namjoon wanting to buy
you a burger are innocuous. You don’t need to get someone back for those or reciprocate. You’re
keeping such a strict tally in your head that you can’t see past it.”

It’s not wrong. Objectively Seokjin is right. Yoongi does this and he knows it’s not always the best
thing. But he doesn’t want to be indebted to people, he’s never wanted to. His parents were big on
it, not accepting help and handouts. They don’t want pity or charity. And then with Jay, it was all a
way to control him.

“I don’t –“

“Hear me out,” Seokjin says firmly. “I’ve been thinking about this, Yoon. It’s unhealthy and it puts
you in a bad situation. What if you did have to leave? You’re burning through money trying to
make things so even that you won’t have anything left to get away from a bad situation.”

“Namjoon isn’t a bad situation,” Yoongi mumbles, petulant and defensive.

A sigh, as if Seokjin is weary. “Yoongi, I’m not saying he is. You just have this skewed sense of
things. Think of it this way, abstractly you’re free, you don’t owe anyone anything. But in reality,
you’re fucked.” His voice is firm, a little loud but not yelling. “If your big concern is being
controlled and trapped, then letting Namjoon help is much smarter. Your defense mechanisms are
honestly making the thing you’re so scared of more likely.”

Yoongi hates that this is true, hates how logical this is. He also hates that he’s fully aware of this.
But it doesn’t matter, he can’t seem to get past it.

When Yoongi doesn’t speak, Seokjin continues, voice gentle again. “Yoongi, Namjoon seems
kind, he seems like a good guy. Even I think so. Do you really think Namjoon is trying to take
advantage of you?”

“No,” Yoongi whispers. Of course he doesn’t. Namjoon isn’t like that, he is kind and good. He’s
not Jay and he’s not a controlling asshole. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I just – he’s so perfect.
He doesn’t understand this stuff. It’s so easy for him and that’s not fair.”

“Oh, Yoongi,” Seokjin says softly. “I know it’s not. It’s not fair and you deserve so much more.”
He pauses. “But maybe that’s why you have Namjoon? He loves you, wants to help you. Maybe
you should let him?”

Yoongi sniffs, fighting back a wave of frustrated tears. “I told him I would.”

“And are you?”

“I’m trying,” Yoongi mumbles. He’s barely trying. “It’s hard.”

“I know, Yoongs. Little steps, okay?” Yoongi doesn’t respond and Seokjin sighs again. “It’s not
too late, you can always come home.”

Home. A concept Yoongi hasn’t known in years. Boston is not home, even with his best friends
there. Maybe Colorado could be home. The only thing that’s felt like home to Yoongi in years has
been Namjoon. Comforting and warm, a feeling of belonging he barely remembered. “I want to do
this,” he says finally.

“Okay,” Seokjin responds. “Okay. But if you need me…” he trails off.

“I know.” Yoongi scrubs his hand over his face. “I love you.”

Seokjin hums, thoughtful and happy. “I love you too. Be safe.”

They hang up and Yoongi doesn’t move right away, sitting frozen on the bench. He knows Seokjin
is right, he also knows he should probably just talk to Namjoon about all of this. Namjoon is kind
and a great listener, if Yoongi laid it all out he’d probably understand. But he’d also try to fix it.
Namjoon is a fixer, always coming up with solutions. Sometimes Yoongi just wants to vent or
express how he feels, not have options A through F thrown at him. Namjoon’s gotten better, but he
knows something like this would trigger it.

He sighs, pushing himself up from the bench. None of this is fun to think about, and it all sullies
what should be happiness. Yoongi should be happy about this fresh start, happy to be with the man
he loves. The decision he made is reckless, but deep down it feels right.

Turning towards the parking lot, he pauses, catching sight of Namjoon. He’s leaning against the
hood of the Jeep, staring off in another direction. Yoongi feels it again, that lurch in his chest, that
deep love, that rightness.
Namjoon turns his head slowly towards him and Yoongi starts walking again. Namjoon’s lips curl
up in a smile and he raises a hand, waving. Yoongi waves back, small and quick. Everything feels
like too much, so much to consider and think about, so many eventualities and things to do. But as
he gets to the car and Namjoon reaches for him, curling a hand around Yoongi’s hip, it fades away
a little.

“Everything good?” Namjoon asks, searching Yoongi’s face. Yoongi is sure Namjoon can see that
his eyes are a little red, but he just smiles, squeezing Yoongi’s hip.

“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes, stepping forward to lean into Namjoon’s chest. “I’m okay.”

Strong arms wrap around him, holding Yoongi close to Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon’s lips brush
over his hair and Yoongi feels it again, in the way Namjoon’s arms fit around his body, how they
mesh together. Home.

The rest of the day of driving passes in vaguely pleasant monotony. They switch a few times,
stopping at rest areas to swap seats so the other can drive. They talk on and off, mostly small
things. It’s clear both of them are tired, and Yoongi just wants to get through the day.

There’s a low current of anxiety running under his skin, making him antsy. His fingers shift and
clench on the wheel while he drives and he can’t help but fidget in his seat. It doesn’t help that he’s
still sore, his own fault from asking Namjoon to fuck him again the night before. No matter how
gentle Namjoon was, he’s still achy.

When he’s in the passenger seat, Yoongi finds it hard to stop his leg from bouncing. He fiddles
with his hands, taps idly at his phone, bites his nails again more than he should. When they’re
nearing their hotel for the night, Namjoon slides his hand onto Yoongi’s leg, applying gentle
pressure to his knee.

“Babe,” he says gently, not looking away from the road, “you’re shaking the whole car.”

Yoongi freezes, leg stopping mid-bounce. He licks his lips and frowns down at his lap, at
Namjoon’s hand lying gently on his leg. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon insists, thumb rubbing soothingly through Yoongi’s jeans, “tired?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi confirms. “And just… restless, I guess.”

Humming in acknowledgment, Namjoon begins gently kneading Yoongi’s thigh, fingers pressing
lightly into the muscle. “Me too, it’s hard being stuck in a car so much.” He pauses and Yoongi
sees him glance over, give him a quick scan. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

No, not really. Yoongi isn’t even sure what he wants to say, what’s making him so anxious. He
knows vaguely what it is, on a wider level, but he can’t narrow it down right now. “No,” he says
finally. He sees Namjoon frown slightly and lifts a hand, fitting it over Namjoon’s on his leg. “Not
because I don’t want to share it with you,” Yoongi continues, “please don’t think that.”

“Okay…” Namjoon begins, “what should I think then?” His tone is wary, a little clipped.

Yoongi has seen Namjoon mad before, through video when he’s been ranting about random things.
They’ve argued before, sort of, through the phone. This doesn’t feel like an argument and Yoongi
doesn’t want it to become one. They’re both tired and it’s hard not to be a little snippy. “I just don’t
know how to put it into words. I’m really tired and I’m nervous about, you know, everything.” He
pauses, studying the side of Namjoon’s face. “This is a lot of new things for me.”

Namjoon’s expression softens, jaw unclenching. “I know it is,” Namjoon replies. “For me too. I’m
feeling nervous so it must be so much worse for you.” He flips his palm, linking their fingers
together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You didn’t,” Yoongi soothes, running his thumb over Namjoon’s knuckles. “We’re both just
tired.” He glances at the GPS. “Almost there?”

“So close,” Namjoon confirms. “Don’t be upset about the hotel.”

The way Yoongi stiffens is automatic, an unconscious response. “I –,"

“I compromised,” Namjoon continues, before Yoongi can say anything. “It’s middle of the road,
between my choice and yours. The price difference is really minimal and they have breakfast.”

Yoongi relaxes back into his seat. “I liked the breakfast,” he admits. He pauses, thinking a
moment, before turning to face Namjoon. “Do you think they have the porn channels?”

Namjoon laughs, bright and surprised, squeezing Yoongi’s hand. He glances over, giving Yoongi a
slightly feral smile. “I guess we’ll find out.”

The hotel is nice, not as nice as the one from the night before, but better than something Yoongi
might have chosen. They ride up in the elevator and make their way into a clean, comfortable
room. Yoongi groans at the first sight of the bed, falling face down on the mattress and spreading
his limbs out like a starfish.

“Wanna eat before you pass out?” Namjoon asks, leaning over the bed to rub Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi wriggles around until he can flip out his back, gazing up at his boyfriend. “Do we have
anything left we can eat? I don’t want to go get anything.”

“I’ll check.”

Yoongi is pleased Namjoon doesn’t argue or suggest they go out for a nice dinner or anything.
Other than not wanting to spend money, Yoongi is so physically and mentally exhausted he’s not
sure he could walk anywhere farther than the bathroom.

The sound of rummaging through bags, the cooler opening. Namjoon reappears in Yoongi’s line of
sight. “Fruit, chips, little cereal boxes, some water. I’m fine just eating this stuff and calling it a
meal.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi asks, groaning as he pushes himself to a sitting position.

“Sure,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “We can have breakfast in the morning and I’m tired. I just
want to take off my pants.”

Yoongi laughs, sliding off the bed and stretching his arms over his head. “Fair. Pants off and then
food?”

They shimmy out of their jeans and Namjoon takes the opportunity to remove his shirt as well,
leaving him in just his tight boxers. Yoongi, in his briefs and a t-shirt, tries not to stare. But when
he notices Namjoon’s gaze lingering on his legs, Yoongi decides he can look, he’s allowed to.
Setting the food on the bed, they sit cross legged across from each other with the food between
them.

“You’re good with camping tomorrow night?” Namjoon asks as he chooses an apple from the pile
between them.

Yoongi nods around a mouthful of cheese curls. “Yeah, as long as you protect me from bears.”

“I will fight them if I have to,” Namjoon laughs. “Have you ever camped before?”

“A couple times,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “Not really and not for a while. Hoseok and Seokjin
were more into glamping.”

“Jimin prefers that as well,” Namjoon says with a smile. “He doesn’t like to get dirty. Jungkook
and I go on camping trips sometimes in the summer, it’s relaxing.”

Yoongi smiles around a mouthful of food. “Just two men in the wilderness. I doubt I’ll be as
helpful as Jungkook at, uh, chopping wood or whatever.”

“We won’t have to chop wood,” Namjoon says with a chuckle. “It’s very laid back, you can just
help me set up the tent. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Yoongi confirms.

They finish eating, Yoongi listening as Namjoon recounts some of his camping trips with
Jungkook. It’s nice, to sit like this together and talk as they share their food. Yoongi feels a little
less anxious as he relaxes. He feels warm and full, content. Maybe he doesn’t need much more than
this, much more than Namjoon and his smiles and stories.

Namjoon manages to get Yoongi out of his shirt after they brush their teeth, nipping at his neck
and brushing his fingers over his ribs until Yoongi is jelly in his arms. They kick their underwear
off too, both of them too tired to mess around, but liking the closeness.

The sheets are cool and crisp against Yoongi’s bare skin, making him shiver as they settle under
the covers. Namjoon is quick to pull Yoongi into his arms and press their lips together, warm and
sweet. They fall asleep like that, arms around each other, kissing lazily until exhaustion drags them
under.

Yoongi wakes up anxious, eyes snapping open from an unpleasant dream he barely remembers,
heart hammering against his ribs. He swallows hard, blinking a few times to clear his vision and
reorient himself. Everything is okay, he’s fine and Namjoon is with him. Namjoon, who appears to
still be asleep, curled around him with his chest to Yoongi’s back. His nose is buried in the back of
Yoongi’s neck, soft exhales tickling his skin, and an arm around him, palm pressed to Yoongi’s
stomach, holding him close.

It calms him a little, Namjoon’s closeness. He shifts, trying not to wake Namjoon, just trying to
move closer into his warmth. Their legs are tangled beneath the blankets and Yoongi finds it hard
to move around, even just to press himself more firmly to Namjoon’s broad chest. As he does,
pressing his ass back, he can feel Namjoon’s cock against his ass, hard and hot against his skin.

“Baby?” Namjoon mumbles, fingers splaying across Yoongi’s stomach, nuzzling his nose into
Yoongi’s hair. He shifts a little, cock rutting against the swell of Yoongi’s ass. “S’early,” he
continues, pressing a soft kiss to Yoongi’s nape. “Go back to sleep.”
Instantly, Yoongi feels a little better. Not enough to push everything away, but having Namjoon
here helps. Even if he wakes up feeling rough, Namjoon is here to soothe him. And Namjoon will
continue to be here, Yoongi won’t have to wake up alone anymore.

Yoongi’s body is responding to Namjoon’s proximity despite the residual anxiety coursing through
him. His toes curl as Namjoon’s fingers rub lightly at his stomach and he can feel his cock
hardening between his legs.

“Can’t sleep anymore,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Mm,” Namjoon hums, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck, his shoulder, as he presses against him. “What do
you need?”

Yoongi shifts, curling himself more tightly into Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon’s other arm slides
beneath him, pressing against Yoongi’s chest, broad palm splayed over his skin. “I don’t know.”

The hand on his belly slides lower, trailing over the smooth skin until Namjoon’s fingers brush his
cock. Yoongi hisses, arching into Namjoon at the contact. He’s fully hard now and Namjoon’s skin
against his own feels amazing.

“Want me to touch you?” Namjoon whispers, mouth pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, lips dragging
over his skin.

It might help him relax, let Namjoon touch him and make him feel good. “Yeah,” Yoongi breathes,
“please.”

“Wet already?” Namjoon teases as his fingers close around Yoongi’s cock, stroking slowly.
Yoongi whines and Namjoon shushes him. “You’re alright.”

He is, maybe. Here in Namjoon's arms things feel better.

“So pretty,” Namjoon murmurs, mouthing at Yoongi’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I get to wake up
next to you, touch you.” Namjoon trails a line of kisses over his neck. “My sweet baby,” he purrs,
“wanna make you feel good.”

Sometimes, it seems like Yoongi’s own problems eclipse everything else, even the good. His
struggles with mental illness make him feel unlovable, frustrate him to no end. It’s hard, on days
like that, to feel like things are okay, to feel like anything is worth it. And all of this with Namjoon,
it’s still so new and scary. They may have been dating for months, but they only met a few days
ago, finally bringing their relationship into the real world.

Everything feels so fragile, spun sugar waiting for the wrong touch to crumble. In the short time
they’ve spent together, they’ve already been through so much, dealt with more than they should
have had to, made a lot of promises. Yoongi can’t help but feel scared, terrified even.

Yoongi moans, thighs clenching, as Namjoon squeezes at the head of his cock, thumbing over the
slit. Namjoon’s hand glides steadily over him, a little rough, but eased by the slide of precum.
Pleasure blooms in his core, blossoming and spreading like rays of warmth, filling him to the tips
of his fingers and toes. Despite the pleasure, the arousal thrumming through him, it almost doesn’t
feel sexual. It’s love, not lust, fueling this. Care and tenderness and Namjoon’s lips on his skin, his
quiet, whispered praise in Yoongi’s ear.

It’s inevitable that some days Yoongi will wake up and feel bad, he’ll feel bad and it won’t get
better. Sometimes it might even feel worse, a crushing weight that drags him down, nearly pushes
him to his knees. But Namjoon doesn’t seem afraid of that, isn’t scared away. Instead he just
moves closer, holds Yoongi tighter, loves him harder.

It feels electric, slow jolts of electricity zinging to his extremities, lava flowing beneath his veins.
So good, so perfect, the way Namjoon touches him. And yet…

Yoongi can’t get out of his own head, can’t stop falling into rabbit holes in his own mind. His
fingernails dig into Namjoon’s arm and he squeezes his eyes closed, tries to force himself over the
edge. He can’t even do something so simple correctly, can’t just let go and feel good.

“Hey,” Namjoon whispers, hand pausing its strokes. “What’s wrong?”

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a whimper. Namjoon’s hand moves
away from his dick, pressing into his stomach again. Namjoon wraps tightly around him,
blanketing Yoongi with warmth and comfort. “Baby,” he whispers. “Yoongi, I’m here.”

He is. Yoongi needs to remind himself of that fact, that Namjoon is here with him, Namjoon
accepts and loves him. He swallows hard and forces his eyes open. “I just – my head is so…” he
trails off, unable to put it into words. Part of it might be all the attention, so hyper focused on him.
While he can feel Namjoon’s cock hard against his back, Namjoon hasn’t done anything to try to
relieve it.

“I know,” Namjoon whispers, dusting his shoulder with kisses. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Yoongi says immediately. He doesn’t want Namjoon to stop, he just wants to make himself
stop. “I’m just having a hard time relaxing. And I just feel so…” he trails off, burying his face in
the pillow.

Humming softly, Namjoon slides his hand back down Yoongi’s torso, skipping over his cock to
softly fondle his balls. Yoongi squirms in his arms but Namjoon doesn’t stop. “Is it too much?” He
pauses, seems to consider. “Would it be better if I got off too, if it wasn’t just you?”

“I –“ Yoongi pauses. He shouldn’t be surprised, maybe, that Namjoon seems to understand what he
needs. But he doesn’t want Namjoon to feel like he has to do something. “No,” he says finally,
stomach twisting. “You don’t have to do anything for me, you don’t have to put yourself out or –“

“Shut up,” Namjoon interrupts, voice gentle despite the harsh words. Yoongi snaps his mouth
closed, blinking blankly at the wall in front of him. “Just shut up and breathe, Yoongi. Deep
breaths, with me, okay?”

Yoongi hadn’t realized he was working himself up, starting to hyperventilate. He does as Namjoon
asks, slowing his breathing to match Namjoon’s own, deep breaths that fill and clear his lungs, his
head.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon murmurs, “just trust me.”

A shuddering exhale leaves Yoongi’s body, feeling pulled from deep in his chest, almost a sob. “I
don’t want to think,” he admits.

“You don’t have to,” Namjoon insists, “just tell me what you want.”

“No, I –“ he shakes his head, lets out a frustrated huff. “Don’t make me decide or say what I want,
I just – anything is fine. Just, please, don’t make me think too hard about it.”

Namjoon’s lips press firmly against his shoulder and his hand slides back to Yoongi’s cock, fingers
curling around his length. “Okay,” Namjoon whispers, “okay.” Slowly, Namjoon rolls his hips,
cock sliding against Yoongi’s ass, pressing into his lower back. Namjoon hisses, burying his face
in Yoongi’s neck. His cock drags over Yoongi’s skin, leaving a sticky trail of precum, as Namjoon
begins stroking his cock again.

Then Yoongi breaks.

“No, I – fuck, okay,” Yoongi squirms. “Fuck my thighs, please.”

Namjoon freezes. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Are you –“

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts, “I just wanna feel you.”

“Alright,” Namjoon agrees, gripping Yoongi’s thigh to lift it a little, slot his cock between his legs.
He pauses, hand still holding Yoongi’s leg up. “Do you want me to get the lube?”

“No, just spit, please, don’t wanna…” he trails off.

“Okay, Yoongi, it’s okay.” He presses Yoongi’s leg back down, reaching around to fist his cock
again. “Squeeze for me – yeah, like that, good boy.”

Yoongi arches at the praise, keening at Namjoon’s words. Namjoon begins to move, it’s a little
dry, not enough spit and both of them a little on edge now. But it feels good, Namjoon’s cock
brushing his perineum, his balls, Namjoon’s hand gripping him.

It’s not like the time on the floor of Yoongi’s old bedroom, frantic, animalistic, and desperate. It’s
not some overwhelming, all-encompassing swell of feelings. It’s honestly a little awkward, a weird
angle, not perfect, but somehow that makes it even better. Yoongi still can’t entirely get out of his
head, even with Namjoon being so good, so giving. But it still feels good, fills him with sticky slow
heat. It helps.

Yoongi still wishes, in the back of his mind, that Namjoon had let him run away from it all, flee to
the bathroom or roll away. But he knows this is what he needs, knows he needs Namjoon here,
against him, rolling his hips to rut between Yoongi’s thighs. And as their pleasure builds and
crescendos, washing over Yoongi in a heart-stuttering rush, he wonders if this could be the new
normal, care and comfort and gentle hands, quiet words.

They lay together in the afterglow, Yoongi’s body sticky with cum, Namjoon slick with sweat.
They cling together, Yoongi holding Namjoon’s arms tight around his body, Namjoon’s face
buried in his neck. Their hearts beat in time, their breaths come together, and everything is quiet.

And they don’t talk about it. They don’t talk about what’s wrong, what’s slowly festering beneath
Yoongi’s skin. They slowly disentangle and get up, showering and dressing and going about their
day. They pack the car and go down to breakfast and talk about anything else.

When they’re in the car a little while later, the Mountain Goats coming through the speakers,
Yoongi sinks into his seat as he puts the car in gear. John Darnelle is singing about trust and love
and other complicated things and Yoongi still feels on edge. He’s a little better, anxiety calmed by
Namjoon’s touch, but something simmers inside him. Namjoon’s hand slides across his thigh and
Yoongi lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He shoots Namjoon a smile that he’s
pretty sure looks more like a grimace, and pulls out of the parking lot.

The anxiety builds as they drive, as miles pass behind them and miles loom ahead, Yoongi quietly
slips into panic. Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice, Yoongi doing a good job hiding his rising nerves
and keeping to himself. They’re mostly quiet today anyway, Namjoon humming along to The
Used as they drive. The quiet is both good and bad. Good, because Namjoon can’t hear the tremble
in Yoongi’s voice and he doesn’t need to focus on conversation. Bad because it lets his mind
wander.

What is he doing?

Yoongi glances to the side, taking in Namjoon’s profile. Namjoon, now in the driver’s seat, is
gazing steadily ahead of them, navigating them towards the future. And Yoongi is squeezing his
own fingers until they ache, wondering if this is all a mistake.

He doesn’t really know Namjoon, it would be impossible to, from two thousand miles away. There
was only so much that could be shared without being together in person. Namjoon is wonderful
and sweet but he isn’t perfect. Right? He can’t be, no one is perfect, and time will show Yoongi
that. Some of the luster will fade, the little things with money will get bigger and things might not
work. There are no guarantees here, and somehow Yoongi has jumped into this without a second
thought.

Yoongi is in a car on the way to Colorado with nearly all his worldly possessions and the man he
loves. A man he has only known online and only met in person days ago. He sees it now, Seokjin
and Hoseok’s fear, their worry. It doesn’t seem sane, doesn’t seem rational. But maybe Yoongi
isn’t those things, maybe he’s just –

“Hey.”

Yoongi jumps, flinching harshly at the sound of Namjoon’s voice, shocking him from his thoughts.
He turns wide eyes to Namjoon, staring at him.

“You okay? Were you asleep?” Namjoon looks concerned, studying him before he turns back to
the road.

“Um, yeah, maybe dozed off.” Yoongi shifts. “Sorry, I’m clearly not great company today.”

Namjoon snorts, smiling faintly. “You’re fine. We’re close to the campground, do you want to stop
and get food? I figure we can grill something, have a few beers.”

“Oh.” Yoongi tries to pull himself back from the edge, refocusing on the here and now. “That
sounds good. Maybe hotdogs or something?”

“Sure,” Namjoon agrees. “Whatever you want.” He nods toward an exit sign. “There’s the exit, I’m
sure there’s a store in the town somewhere. Do you want to check?”

Nodding, Yoongi fumbles his phone from his pocket, unlocking the screen. “Sure, let me just –
yeah, there’s one a mile off the exit.”

Namjoon navigates them to the store and through the aisles, Yoongi feeling a little like he’s in a
daze as Namjoon adds things to the cart. Hotdogs, buns, skewers, condiments, some logs for a fire.
Yoongi stops paying attention, just follows along, his hold on Namjoon’s hand the only thing
keeping him grounded.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks when they’re back in the car. Yoongi just nods and Namjoon gives
him a long, searching look but doesn’t press.

The Fort Kearney State Recreation Area Campground isn’t crowded at all. There are surprisingly
few cars in the parking lot and everything seems peaceful, the sun low in the sky, bathing
everything in warmth as it gets close to setting.

They make their way to a spot by the lake, making a few trips with their supplies before everything
is strewn about them.

“Ever put up a tent before?” Namjoon asks, unzipping the bag holding the folded tent and poles.

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, is it hard?”

“Nah,” Namjoon says easily. “New tents are so simple. We just pop it open and hammer the stakes
in. Grab the mallet?” He nods to a rubber mallet next to the bag.

Namjoon sets up the tent, unfolding it into a large blue oval that Yoongi can hardly believe fits in
the box. They crouch together, Namjoon holding stakes as Yoongi hammers them in. They smile at
each other and some of the tension leaks away as Namjoon grins at him, calls him a brave
adventurer.

There are no camping chairs but they arrange blankets on the ground around the fire pit and get
comfortable. Yoongi opens them each a beer and organizes the food as Namjoon builds a fire.

“This is impressive,” Yoongi observes as Namjoon blows on the small flame, watching it grow.

Namjoon leans back, smiling. “Practice. I usually burn my – ah!” He rears back, clutching his hand
to his chest.

Yoongi springs forward, moving around the edge of the fire to grab Namjoon’s wrist. “Are you
alright? Let me see.” A small burn on the side of his hand, red and angry looking, but no blisters.

“I always burn myself,” Namjoon admits sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing one of the beer cans. He presses the cool metal to
Namjoon’s hand, holding him fast as he tries to jerk away.

Namjoon pouts at him, tugging weakly. “Hurts,” he grumbles.

“Big baby,” Yoongi coos, “you’re alright. It’s not bad.” Yoongi pulls the beer can away. “Want a
bandage?”

Studying the side of his hand, Namjoon shakes his head. “Should be okay.” He pauses, smiles
shyly. “Maybe a kiss?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but acquiesces, dipping down to press his lips to Namjoon’s hand. “Good as
new,” he whispers.

“I’d be a mess without you,” Namjoon declares. He chuckles, shaking his head. “I have been a
mess without you. Thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome, Joonie. Be more careful?”

Namjoon nods, grabbing the bag of skewers. “I will. Grab the hotdogs?”

They fit the sausages onto the skewers and roast them over the fire, eating them and sipping beer as
the sun sets and the world darkens around them. The fire and a small lantern at the entrance to the
tent become their only light, Namjoon’s face cast in shadows that make him look sculpted,
beautiful.
“This is nice,” Yoongi says after a few moments of silence, reaching for a fresh beer. “It’s pretty
out here.”

“It is.” Namjoon’s smile flashes in the firelight. “I’m happy to be here with you. Can you believe
we’ll be in Denver tomorrow?”

Not really, it still seems impossible. And terrifying. Yoongi shifts on his blankets, takes a long sip
from his beer. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes, “for me too.” They’re quiet for a moment and then Namjoon clears his
throat, shifts beside him. They’re a little way apart, less than a foot, but Namjoon moves a little
closer. “Can we talk about something?”

Fear slithers down Yoongi’s spine like icy tendrils, curling around him and squeezing like a vice.
“About what?” Yoongi croaks.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this but you’re not always very… receptive,” Namjoon
begins. Yoongi stiffens and Namjoon clears his throat again before continuing. “But I think it’s a
conversation we need to have.”

A beat. Two. Namjoon is waiting for his permission. What if Yoongi said no? Would they just go
on as if Namjoon hadn’t spoken? Maybe he should say no. But not knowing would eat him alive.
“Okay.”

“Okay,” Namjoon echoes. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “You’re starting over in Denver,
it’s a big deal and it’s an expensive city. I want you to have a running start, find it easy to get on
your feet. I’m used to, you know, covering everything alone. I know we talked about splitting rent
and things but I don’t think we should.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond. His fingers press into the metal of his beer can, he feels it dimpling
beneath the pressure. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again.

“Let me take care of you,” Namjoon says quietly. “You don’t need to pay rent or bills. I’ll support
you while you get settled and find a job, get on your feet. I don’t want you to blow through your
savings. It’s not a big deal, I want to help you.”

“Not a big –“ Yoongi cuts off. Anger courses through him, rising from deep in his belly like a
sleeping dragon. “What the fuck Namjoon,” he snaps, “I’m not a fucking charity case.”

Namjoon reels back, eyes wide in the face of Yoongi’s anger. “I’m not saying you are. I just want
to –“

“Want to what? Control me? Keep me fucking wrapped around your finger and indebted to you. I
don’t need handouts or pity.” Even as he says the words, he regrets them. This isn’t even about
Namjoon. It’s anger that Yoongi thought was gone, hurt he thought he healed. It’s all boiling to the
surface in a rush, sweeping him away.

“I’m not trying to control you,” Namjoon says, voice edged with his own anger. “Why would you
think that?” Yoongi doesn’t respond and Namjoon continues. “I’m just trying to be helpful, to be a
good boyfriend and –,"

“Of course you are!” Yoongi interrupts. “That’s what you always are. Sweet, perfect Namjoon who
is always good and wonderful. With an amazing life and loving parents and friends and nothing to
worry about. You’re just so kind and supportive.”
Namjoon looks angry now, the set of his jaw is clear in the dancing firelight. His eyes flash, dark
and bottomless. “What the fuck are you talking about? You want me to be an asshole to you?”

“You wouldn’t understand!” Yoongi nearly shouts. “You’re so perfect, you don’t know anything
about money or having to struggle. You just have everything handed to you, the perfect treasured
oldest son from a perfect family. You’re so naïve and you don’t even see it!”

“I’m not a fucking baby, Yoongi!” Namjoon snaps, voice low. “Is this what you really think about
me?”

Yoongi tries to rein himself in but he can’t, venom boils on his tongue, spits from his mouth in
clouds of poison. “You just don’t see it, you don’t know what it’s like to go hungry and cold or not
be able to see a doctor or dentist. You don’t have student debt from a degree you didn’t even finish,
a maxed-out credit card from trying to fund a trip that was the only good thing in your life!”

“So I’m a snob then? Because I didn’t grow up poor, I don’t know anything?”

“You just don’t get -”

“No,” Namjoon cuts him off. “No. You wear your shitty childhood like a badge of honor. What?
It’s so punk rock to struggle and suffer? You can’t get past all this shit and see that I genuinely
want to help you because of your own fucked up ego.”

Yoongi glowers at him. “I’m not egotistical, I’m just not a charity case!”

“What’s wrong with charity?” Namjoon challenges.

“Nothing, but -”

“I’m not trying to pity you, Yoongi. But this isn’t healthy at all. You’re just proud. Too proud to let
people who love you help you.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Yoongi mumbles, turning away.

Namjoon doesn’t let him, reaching out and grabbing Yoongi’s wrist. “No, you don’t get it. You
seem to have all these fucking illusions about me in your head. All these made up facts you built up
about me. Do they make you feel better? Make you feel like you’re stronger than me?”

“Maybe!” Yoongi snaps. “You don’t know what I’ve had to deal with, I am strong! I’ve done
everything by myself, I’ve worked for everything.”

“And what do you have to show for it?”

Yoongi blinks, staring at his boyfriend across the dancing flames. “Oh, fuck you, Namjoon. Fuck
you.” He moves to stand but Namjoon grabs him.

“You’re not as strong as you think you are. You’re scared and it shows. You’re scared and you
won’t fucking let me in. I’m not a fucking child, Yoongi. I’ve worked for what I have too.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, just wrenches his wrist from Namjoon’s grip and stares into the fire.

“I had jobs in high school, a part time job in college. I didn’t just have stuff handed to me. Stuff for
school and clothes, yeah. But if I wanted video games and instruments and my own stuff I bought it
myself. I’m not just a spoiled rich kid and I don’t know why you think I am.” Namjoon sighs and
Yoongi glances over, watches him run a hand through his hair. “I have debt too, you know? From
my Master’s. My parents helped but I took out loans for it. I’m paying it off and I’m trying to save.
I want to buy an apartment because renting in Denver is so expensive, I want to be able to help my
parents if they need it. “

“But -”

Namjoon shakes his head, cutting Yoongi off. “I am not blind to money problems, Yoongi, I work
hard. Shit, when I was in grad school I had an ear infection so bad for months but I couldn’t afford
to go to the doctor for it. I still get headaches from it sometimes.”

Yoongi didn’t know all this, didn’t know Namjoon had debts or struggled, that he worked through
college. And Yoongi knows he works hard. But still… it’s not the same. “But you always had a
safety net. If you had failed, your parents would have helped you. Right?”

“Right,” Namjoon admits. “But why is that bad?”

“Because I don’t have that! I never have!” Yoongi feels like a child, feels so stupid. “You have
everything and I have nothing and you just don’t get it! You drop money on fast food, hotels, trips,
like it’s not a big deal.”

“It is! I budget and save, I’m not just throwing money at things.” Namjoon groans and shakes his
head. “I feel like we’re going around in circles, why are you treating me like a villain? I’m not the
bad guy here!”

“What? And I am?” Yoongi snaps.

Silence. It’s quiet then, neither of them speaking, just the fire popping between them.

“Namjoon?” Yoongi prompts, voice small.

A sigh then, Namjoon leaning back on his hands. “You’re not blameless in all of this,” Namjoon
mumbles. “You act like I’m a monster because I don’t work paycheck to paycheck. All of this is
what I do wrong, but what about you?”

Yoongi swallows hard. “What about me what?”

“Yoongi,” Namjoon begins, searching Yoongi’s face, “why do you always lie to me?”

“I don’t –,"

“Please don’t do it now, please.”

Yoongi closes his mouth. Namjoon isn’t exactly wrong. Yoongi does lie sometimes, but they’re
white lies. Small things so Namjoon won’t worry. “I just, I don’t want you to worry or think I’m
too broken,” he whispers.

“I know about Christmas,” Namjoon says after a moment, “Hoseok told me what you did.”

Stiffening, Yoongi shakes his head. “That wasn’t a big deal, I just wanted to do something nice for
you. It was –,"

“You’re lying right now,” Namjoon interrupts. “It obviously was a big deal. You got sick because
you couldn’t heat your apartment properly. I’d rather have you healthy than any gift.” He sighs,
scrubbing a hand down his face. “Why won’t you just be honest with me?”

A good question, Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s some stupid leftover defense mechanism and also…
“If I’m honest,” Yoongi whispers, “you won’t love me.”

“What?”

“You’ll think I’m too much, too sad or too annoying. I don’t want you to see all the bad parts of
me,” Yoongi’s voice drops to a whisper.

“You’re none of those things,” Namjoon assures him. He reaches out, hesitates, then sets his hand
gently on Yoongi’s knee. When Yoongi doesn’t pull away, he curls his fingers around his leg. “I’m
not going to run away because you struggle sometimes, I do too. I just want us to be honest with
each other. I don’t lie to you.”

“I know,” Yoongi whispers. “I don’t mean to do it, sometimes it just seems like it will be easier.
But then I build this complicated web and I have a hard time keeping track and it just… breaks.”

“Look, here’s the thing. This is supposed to be a partnership, Yoongi. I want a relationship where
we love and support one another. I want you to trust me.”

Yoongi stares down at Namjoon’s hand on his leg, his eyes burn. “I do trust you.” He does, truly.
“I just… it’s hard to open up. I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says, nodding along. “Will you work on it? Because if you won’t work on it,
then I don’t know what to do here.”

“Yes,” Yoongi whispers. “But you need to work on things too. Letting me say no about spending
money and not pressing me on it, always trying to fix things, pushing too much sometimes.”

Namjoon frowns but nods. “I can try. I want you to compromise with me on things, I know you
have some bad shit in your past but if your fucked up value system is gonna hold you back from
that…”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Yoongi snaps. “I know I’m not perfect, okay? I’ll try, I promised
Seokjin I’d talk to a therapist in Denver.” He pauses. “I think you should too, like we talked about
yesterday.” Yoongi hesitates. “You don’t always have to save me.”

“What are you talking about?”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to sigh now. “Maybe one of the reasons I don’t tell you things is because you
always try to fix everything. Sometimes I just want to vent. You have this, like, savior complex.
Like you have to be my knight and rescue me. I’m not a damsel in distress, Namjoon, I have taken
care of myself for twenty odd years. It would be nice sometimes to just get a that sucks or a hug or
something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Namjoon says, staring at him.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi tries, voice gentle. “Every time I’d talk about how much I hated my job you’d
try to fix it. Offering all these ideas and plans, saying you’d help me apply to places. That was
great, but I just wanted to bitch a little. Or when I was sick and you called Seokjin and Hoseok. I
was okay, I could have called them. I appreciate that you did but you just always have to fix. I just
want you to listen and agree that life is shit sometimes. Then give me a hug and ice cream or
something.”

“I can do that,” Namjoon says softly, “I’ve been trying, really. I – I know I do it. Okay? Jungkook
has pointed it out to me too and I am trying. I’ll talk to someone too, I want to be what you need.”
“You don’t have to change for me,” Yoongi says immediately. “I just – fuck, Namjoon.” He buries
his face in his hands and groans softly. “Do you really want this?” He looks up, meeting
Namjoon’s eyes across the fire. “Is this a mistake?”

“No,” Namjoon answers, “it’s not a mistake. I love you, Yoongi. I love you but I’m scared. This is
a lot for me too and I need us to work together. I want a partner, not someone who shuts me out. I
want this to work, I want us to work.” His fingers squeeze into Yoongi’s knee. “Do you?”

“I do,” Yoongi breathes, “so much. But I’m not just doing this for you, I need it for myself. I need
something new, a fresh start. I need to work on myself and get better and I’ll –“ he swallows hard,
“I’ll let you help me. But you have to respect my boundaries.”

“Okay.” Namjoon scoots a little closer. “I think you need to be clear with what those are. I want to
respect your boundaries, I want to give you what you need. But you need to tell me. I’m not a mind
reader, Yoongi.”

Of course he’s not, Yoongi knows that. But maybe he’s been expecting Namjoon to figure things
out himself. Yoongi doesn’t always want to have to put them into the world, say them out loud. He
doesn’t want to be needy or helpless or have to verbalize exactly what he needs. It’s not Namjoon’s
fault for not knowing. “I need time,” Yoongi says finally. “I need time to get used to everything
and to get on my feet. I don’t want you to push me, but I’d like support. I just - I don’t exactly
know what I need, but I’ll try to be better about telling you. I just need time and space to figure
things out.”

“Look, Jungkook has a spare room at his apartment. If you want, I’m sure you could stay with him
until you figure things out. Until you figure out if you want to be with me.”

He looks up sharply, eyes wide. “I want to be with you.” He feels so certain of that, nothing else
feels so sure.

“I know, I know,” Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s not how I meant it. I meant if you wanted
some space to figure stuff out, we don’t have to live together right away.”

But that would be another new thing. Living with a person he knows even less than Namjoon. For
this to work, Yoongi needs it all at once. “If we’re doing this, I want to be with you. We need to be
all in. If we do it, we do it together. Okay?”

“Okay. I want to do it, I’m all in. Are you?”

Yoongi stares at him a moment, at Namjoon’s face, creased with worry, his bright eyes. He nods,
setting his palm over Namjoon’s to curl their fingers together. “I’m all in. But we need to figure out
how this will work. I want us to split things. We can’t just say cool and then not figure shit out.”

“What if you let me pay for the first few months, just while you get back on your feet?”

Yoongi shakes his head immediately. “No. I don’t want to be entirely reliant on you. I trust you,
Namjoon, I do. But that’s not good for me, I need to - I need to do something.”

“Okay…” Namjoon clicks his tongue, thinking. “I’ll cover bills and necessities, we split rent and
food. You pay a quarter?”

“Third,” Yoongi challenges.

Namjoon snorts, smiling slightly. “I’m surprised you didn’t say half.”
“I’m trying to compromise,” Yoongi mumbles. “I really am, I’m trying to be better.”

Namjoon’s gaze softens and he squeezes Yoongi’s fingers. “I believe you. Okay, a third. But if you
dip under a certain amount in savings, we reevaluate. Deal?”

“What amount?"

“Enough for a month of rent, a plane ticket back?"

Yoongi hesitates, not wanting to think about going back, but he nods. "Okay. But I'm not paying
for your yuppy food."

"Fine," Namjoon agrees with a snort. "No Whole Foods for you. We can split the shared stuff, I’ll
pay for my fancy cereal myself.”

“And I’m a better cook, I’ll probably do more of the cooking. So we can factor that in, maybe.”

“Of course,” Namjoon says with a nod. “I’m excited to not eat microwave burritos so often. This is
okay?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Do you want a formal agreement or can we agree this is it? Shake on it?”

“This is - this works.” Yoongi squeezes his fingers. “This is enough for now.” Yoongi licks his
lips, looking up from their intertwined fingers. “Namjoon, I’m sorry. I should have just talked to
you about everything instead of exploding. I know you’re not like Jay -” Namjoon's eyes widen at
the name, Yoongi rarely talks about any of that. Most of this anger isn’t even at Namjoon, it’s
about a man who used him and controlled him and kicked him to the curb like trash. Something he
knows Namjoon would never do. “I didn’t - I don’t think you’re some rich asshole or controlling. I
didn’t mean that.”

“Me too,” Namjoon agrees, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re egotistical. I just
think you’re a little bit like a hedgehog. You need to let me in. Okay?”

Yoongi scoots a little closer, nodding. “I’ll try. Really try.”

“I believe you.” Namjoon leans in. “I promise to support you and love you, but I’ll back off. I
won’t push you and I’ll let you do it your way.” Namjoon stares at him, as if willing Yoongi to
understand. “I know you can do this, you can do anything. You’re smart and amazing, just let me
help?”

“Yes,” Yoongi whispers. “I promise to let you help, but I need to start small. I’ll let you in more, I
want to, I want to be honest with you. I don’t – I don’t like lying to you. I’m going to find someone
to talk to so I can work on this. For me, and for us.” He sighs. “I just want to be myself. And I want
to be happy.”

Namjoon smiles softly. “I love you just the way you are.” He moves closer, gently pulling Yoongi
into his arms. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, fisting his hands in Namjoon’s shirt, burying his face against his
chest. He feels it again, as Namjoon’s clean scent envelops him, as Namjoon holds him tight.
Home.

⟿
They wind up in the tent, pressed together in a pile of blankets and Namjoon’s sleeping bag. Their
clothes are gone, thrown somewhere on the ground around the tent, and their mouths are locked
together, tongues tangling. Namjoon has three fingers inside Yoongi’s hole, pumping into him
almost desperately as Yoongi gasps against his lips.

Yoongi wraps his legs around Namjoon’s waist, hitching his thighs up higher for Namjoon to get a
better angle. There’s a dampness on Yoongi’s cheeks, tears leaking from his eyes as he squeezes
them closed, kisses Namjoon’s with a hunger that he can’t seem to sate. He wants to hold and be
held, feel Namjoon deep inside of him, filling him up.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, leaning their foreheads together as he tries to breathe. “Let me grab a
condom,” he croaks. Yoongi whines, it had been annoying enough when Namjoon broke away
from him to grab lube. “Clean up will be a bitch, just wait.”

Unwinding himself from around Namjoon, Yoongi collapses back to the blankets, letting out a
shaky breath. He brings up a hand, wiping at his teary eyes. Namjoon slowly withdraws his fingers
from Yoongi’s entrance and wipes them on the blankets, knee-walking to the corner of the tent.

Yoongi takes him in, the strong muscles of his back down to his tapered waist, the curve of his ass.
Beautiful in the amber glow of the lantern by the tent flap, beautiful and real and all Yoongi’s. He
wants to make this work, wants this more than anything.

Turning back around, Namjoon catches him staring. “What?”

“Just looking at you,” Yoongi whispers. “Come back here.”

Namjoon obeys, moving back across the tent and crawling over Yoongi’s body, leaning over him
to connect their lips again. “Ready?”

Yoongi strokes Namjoon’s cheeks, cups his jaw with his palms and smiles up at him, hardly able to
believe all of this is real. “Yeah,” he whispers, “I’m ready.” He doesn’t just mean for this, for sex,
he hopes Namjoon understands, can feel the truth in his words.

Yoongi gasps when Namjoon enters him, head falling back against the pillows and hands winding
into Namjoon’s hair. He clings to him, hissing through the stretch as Namjoon slides in, inch by
inch, until he’s fully seated inside of him. Yoongi feels everything at once, so full and warm,
Namjoon inside of him, around him, caging him in. Safe and warm and held so, so close.

Their lips meet again, a softer, tender brush. The desperate hunger has abated, the need for
closeness and touch replacing it. As Namjoon rocks into him, slow, deep movements, Yoongi feels
more tears leak from his eyes. He’s never deserved very much, never hoped for more than he
thought he was due. But maybe he deserves Namjoon and a little piece of happiness with him.

A whimper accompanies Yoongi’s orgasm, body shaking and tensing as more tears drip down his
cheeks. Namjoon kisses him through it, holding him close and murmuring love against his lips. He
falls over the edge a few thrusts later, pressing them as close together as he can, moaning loudly as
he fills the condom.

Namjoon pulls out and rolls onto his side, pulling Yoongi into his arms and against his chest.
They’re sticky and sweaty but neither of them care, arms wrapped tight as they kiss. Yoongi pulls
back and opens his eyes, taking in Namjoon’s own teary eyes, his damp cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Joonie, I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. “I never want to make you cry.” He thumbs at
the tears on Namjoon’s cheeks, brushing them away with gentle strokes.
Namjoon smiles at him, watery and fond. “I’m okay, just overwhelmed. I love you, Yoongi. Good
and bad, it doesn’t matter, you’re it.”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi whispers, ducking in to press a lingering kiss to Namjoon’s lips. “I love you.”

Hoseok had talked about it once, when he and Yoongi shared an edible and Hoseok melted into the
couch for a couple hours. He got sentimental, clinging to Yoongi’s arm as he whispered about
Seokjin. They weren’t married yet, weren’t engaged, but it was clear they were heading there.

“It’s a once in a lifetime thing,” Hoseok slurred, curled tightly to Yoongi’s side. “And not everyone
finds it, I think.” He hiccupped then, took a moment to reorient. “Like soulmates, you know?”

Yoongi wasn’t sure he believed in all that, soulmates and once in a lifetime things, but he nodded,
stroked his best friend’s hair.

“Your true love,” Hoseok murmured. “Your great love. That heart stopping, once in a lifetime,
everything illuminated feeling. Jinnie is it.” Hoseok sighed, wistful and dreamy. “You’ll find that
too, Yoonie, I know it. Your great love is out there, waiting for you.”

Hoseok proposed a month later.

Yoongi didn’t really believe it, had just nodded along, offered gentle words and a bottle of water.
But now, now he thinks he gets it. As he kisses the tears from Namjoon’s cheeks, feels his smile
against his skin, holds him close. Namjoon is Yoongi’s great love. He’s still not sure he believes in
soulmates or anything like that. But if it’s true, if it could be true, he thinks Namjoon would be it
for him.

That heart stopping, once in a lifetime, everything illuminated feeling.

An idea strikes him then, a stupid ridiculous idea borne on a wave of endorphins. “Hey,” he
whispers, “let’s go outside.”

Namjoon opens his eyes, leaning back to stare at Yoongi. “What?”

“Come on, grab your underwear, I wanna –“ he cuts off, pushing away and sitting up. There’s cum
drying on his belly and he scowls, wiping it with a corner of one of the blankets.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asks when Yoongi gets to his feet, hunting for his briefs.

He finds them in the corner and slips them on, pulling them up his legs before turning around. He’s
a mess, he needs to clean up, he’s covered in cum and lube and sweat. But that can wait. “Come
on,” he insists, reaching down to grab Namjoon’s arm and tug him up.

Namjoon rises warily, grabbing his own boxers and pulling them on. “Why won’t you tell me what
we’re doing? I’m not jumping in the lake.”

“Not the lake,” Yoongi mumbles, distracted as he crouches in front of his backpack and digs
through the pockets. “Just –“ his fingers close around what he was looking for and he pulls it out.
The pink kitten pocketknife sits on his palm, small and neatly folded. “Get the lantern?”

They make their way outside, heading toward the lake. Namjoon follows behind him, confused
and concerned. They’re barefoot and Yoongi carefully picks his way over the rough ground,
avoiding rocks and twigs as he approaches a huge tree on the edge of the lake. It’s beautiful,
branches fanning over the water, trunk wide enough that he and Namjoon wouldn’t touch if they
both put their arms around it.
“Okay,” Yoongi says, staring at the trunk as Namjoon approaches, the light falling on the rough
bark. “Not gonna lie, I’ve kind of always wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi what are you – hey!” He breaks off, stumbling forward as
Yoongi flicks open the knife and begins scratching at the bark. “Babe, the tree!”

“It’ll be fine,” Yoongi mumbles, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he digs the blade
into the trunk. “I’m being romantic here.”

A pause, Namjoon shifts a little closer, light shining more firmly on the trunk. “You’re… what?”

“It’s a declaration,” Yoongi explains. He pulls his hand back, showing the start of his work. The
YM carved into the trunk, the start of a plus sign below in.

“You’re –“ Namjoon breaks off, seems to consider. “You’re carving our initials into the tree?”

Yoongi nods, moving down to dig the blade in again, beginning to carve an N. “Sure am. Like out
of a shitty teen romance movie.”

“I feel like I should laugh or be mad,” Namjoon says softly, “but I am honestly very moved by
this.”

Yoongi snorts, pulling the blade from the tree to start the K. “Good, you should be.” He digs the
knife into the bark and curses, pulling his hand back as the blade snaps off the handle. “Fuck,” he
swears, searching the ground for the blade. “This isn’t a bad omen, it means nothing.”

“Let me,” Namjoon mumbles, pushing the lantern into Yoongi’s hand and stooping down. He
straightens again, blade clasped between his fingers, and presses it to the tree. Yoongi becomes
aware suddenly, of how silly and weird this must seem. They’re in their underwear in the middle of
this state park, carving their initials into a tree with a Hello Kitty knife. It feels very stupid and very
right.

“Ah, shit,” Namjoon hisses, gritting his teeth.

Yoongi holds the lantern up higher, closer to the tree. A glimmer of red on Namjoon’s fingers,
blood dripping from one. “Babe, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’ve got it,” Namjoon insists, shaking his head. He readjusts his fingers, bringing the blade up to
carve a heart around their initials. He hisses again as the metal bites into his skin, more blood
welling from a fingertip. “Quite the declaration,” Namjoon huffs, “should you cut yourself next
and we seal this as a blood pact?”

“Ew,” Yoongi groans, scrunching his nose. “You’re so gross.” He steps forward when Namjoon
hisses again. “Baby, be careful,” he pleads.”

Namjoon carves the second half of the heart and leans back to inspect their work. YM + NK,
surrounded by a heart. “Okay,” Namjoon murmurs, “this is pretty great. Why does it feel so great?”

Yoongi laughs and pulls him away from the tree, knocking the knife out of his hands. “Because
those shitty teen movies get some things right, come here.” He pulls Namjoon into a kiss, cupping
his face as Namjoon smiles against his mouth.

“Love you,” Namjoon whispers against his lips, “but I am bleeding very heavily and I need several
band aids.”
Yoongi drags him back to the tent, the remnants of the pocketknife lying forgotten at the base of
the tree. The lantern dangles from his fingers as Namjoon clings to his back, dusting him with
kisses. They giggle together, feeling drunk and high and all sorts of a mess as they get back to the
tent.

“Sit,” Yoongi insists, pushing Namjoon onto the bundle of blankets. He digs through another bag
until he pulls out a first aid kit and makes his way back to his boyfriend. “Only you, Joonie, could
get this injured.”

Two of Namjoon’s fingers and his thumb are sliced and nicked, blood dribbling from the cuts.
Yoongi cleans them with antiseptic, hushing Namjoon when he hisses at the sting. “You’re hurting
me,” Namjoon pouts.

“Such a baby,” Yoongi coos, wrapping bandages around Namjoon’s fingers. “My big baby.”
Namjoon may not actually be as naive as Yoongi accuses him of being, but Yoongi can still baby
him in times like this. He brings Namjoon’s hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the tips of his
fingers, the heel of his palm. “I love you, Namjoon.”

Namjoon pulls Yoongi into his arms, dragging him with him as he falls back onto the bed. Yoongi
hovers over him, smiling down at Namjoon’s dimpled smile. “I love you, Yoongi. I want this, I
want you.”

They fall asleep a little while later, after finally cleaning up and making sure the fire has safely
burned down. The blankets cocoon them, cuddled together like puzzle pieces, legs tangled, arms
wrapped tightly. Namjoon brushes a kiss to Yoongi’s hair, murmuring more words of love,
promises of devotion. The anxiety leaks away, ebbing out of him and leeching from his skin.
There’s still the fear and nervousness, but Yoongi thinks they’ll be okay, they can at least try.

"I'm nervous," Yoongi says quietly, raising his voice slightly to be heard above Andrew
McMahon. He doesn’t look over, but he can hear Namjoon shift in the passenger seat.

“It’s okay, Yoongi,” Namjoon says softly. “I can tell the guys to go home, then it can be just us.
They won’t mind.”

Yoongi feels a little silly, antsy and nervous at the prospect of meeting Namjoon’s friends. But it
would probably be better to get it over with. “It’s okay, I want to meet them.”

“Anything else you’re nervous about?” Namjoon asks, fingers sliding along the back of Yoongi’s
neck, rubbing gently into the muscle.

So many things. “Yeah,” Yoongi admits. “Just… I don’t want to end up doing the same thing I was
doing in Boston. Shitty dead-end job that I hate, you know?”

“Well,” Namjoon begins, “what do you want to do?”

A good question. What does Yoongi want?

When he doesn’t respond, Namjoon speaks again. “What did you go to school for?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says quickly, “I dropped out, remember?”

“Sure it matters, you had two years. What was it?”

Yoongi snorts, shrugging one shoulder. “I really haven’t told you?” Yoongi asks, glancing over.
Namjoon shakes his head and Yoongi smiles, rolls his eyes. “Business Administration.”

“Wow,” Namjoon says, letting out a low whistle. “Yoongi Min, business tycoon. I’ve never
imagined it but…” he trails off, hums softly. “You’d look hot in a suit.”

“I do, thank you very much,” Yoongi quips. “I hated it, it was a waste of time.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says easily, “what did you want to study?”

A beat, Yoongi licks his lips. “Sound engineering.” He squirms in his seat. “I thought I could work
in a music studio or something, you know, just… it was a stupid dream.”

“That’s not stupid,” Namjoon says immediately. “I bet the local colleges have sound engineering
classes. You could take some, I know you’d be amazing at it. You could even do composition or
something, you already write your own songs.”

“Maybe,” Yoongi mumbles, suddenly shy. Namjoon’s instant support, his belief that Yoongi could
do this, makes him feel a little weird. Butterflies flutter in his belly. “Thanks, Namjoon.”

“For what?” Namjoon asks, a gummy worm halfway to his mouth.

Yoongi opens his mouth and Namjoon rolls his eyes, feeding Yoongi the gummy instead. He
chews and swallows. “For believing in me.”

“Always,” Namjoon says with a smile, “I said you’re amazing, I meant it.”

The last stretch, the race to the finish line. The time on the GPS is ticking steadily down and
Yoongi can see mountains in the distance, traffic picking up as they near the city. He’s in the
passenger seat now, Namjoon driving as Yoongi feeds him chocolates and gummies. When he
looks over, he pauses with his hand in the bag of gummies. Namjoon is staring ahead out the
windshield, side profile illuminated in gold by the rays of the setting sun.

It hits Yoongi then, nearly knocking the air out of him, that he loves Namjoon. He’s loved
Namjoon for months now, for a long time, but not like this. They’ve been saying they love each
other for a while now, but it almost felt unreal. It was intangible when they were separated. Saying
it in person for the first time was exhilarating, a rush. And Yoongi had meant it, had felt it.

But he really feels it now, that sweeping great love. It’s tangible now, with all their cards on the
table and the start of their lives together. Yoongi finally feels like he’s able to love Namjoon for
real, for certain. Lykke Li is singing about following rivers and Yoongi agrees, he feels like he
would follow Namjoon anywhere.

“Look,” Namjoon says softly, nodding toward the windshield.

Yoongi does, turning away from Namjoon to stare ahead of them. Denver looms before them,
skyscrapers stretching to the clouds above, mountains behind them. Everything is bathed in pink
and gold from the setting sun, all the windows appearing to shine with fire. Yoongi exhales a shaky
breath when Namjoon reaches for his hand, linking their fingers.

“Welcome home, Yoongi.”

Chapter End Notes

Twitter!
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

Big thanks as always to my beta reader Sumi!

Don't forget to check out the playlist Here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Deep breaths,” Namjoon says softly, reaching over to take Yoongi’s hand, linking their fingers
together.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, his tongue feels too big for his mouth. They’re winding through city
streets, every stoplight bringing them closer to Namjoon’s – no – their apartment. There’s a
trembling in his limbs that Yoongi can’t seem to stop. He’s sure Namjoon can feel it, but he
doesn’t comment, only squeezes Yoongi’s fingers. All he can focus on is the music, the chords of
Your Hand In Mine carrying him, making him feel almost weightless.

“Baby,” Namjoon calls softly, “talk to me?”

Yoongi swallows and turns, taking in Namjoon beside him. They’re at a red light and Namjoon is
watching him, a pinch of concern in his brows. “I’m sorry,” Yoongi mumbles.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Namjoon insists. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

“I am,” Yoongi confirms. “I’m just really nervous.”

Namjoon hums, turning away as the light changes and they begin moving again. “I can still call
them and tell them to leave. They won’t be offended, you know? They’ll get it and they won’t
mind.”

It doesn’t seem fair, really, to be given an out like this. Namjoon is kind and sweet, willing to do
whatever Yoongi needs to be comfortable. But Namjoon didn’t get the same opportunity, he was
ambushed by Seokjin and Hoseok as soon as they arrived. Yoongi can do this, he can meet
Namjoon’s friends and be social for a little while.

“It’s okay,” he says finally. “I want to meet them.”

Namjoon nods and turns another corner, steering them towards a building near the end of the
street. He pulls into the parking lot and parks in a numbered space. Explosions In The Sky fades
out as Namjoon turns the car off.

“I love you,” Namjoon declares, turning to face Yoongi again. “I love you and I want you here.”

Yoongi smiles at his words, it’s a little shaky but he feels better. “I want to be here,” he replies. “I
love you.”

“Everything’s going to work out,” Namjoon insists, leaning across the center console and cupping
Yoongi’s cheek with one warm palm.
Leaning forward, Namjoon presses their lips together. It’s sweet and soft, holding promises that
can’t even be put into words. Yoongi melts into it, eyes fluttering closed. Namjoon pulls back a bit
and leans their foreheads together.

“Are you ready?” he whispers, nudging their noses together. “We’ll figure everything out
together.”

Yoongi nods, pressing one last kiss to Namjoon’s lips. Together sounds really good.

Namjoon’s building is nice. Nice like Seokjin and Hoseok’s building back in Boston, a far cry from
the mess of an apartment building where Yoongi lived. Everything is bright and cheery, clean
floors and neatly painted walls. Namjoon leads him to a bank of elevators and hits the button.

“We can come back for the stuff in the car,” Namjoon explains as they wait for the doors to slide
open. “Maybe I can even convince Jungkook to bring it in for us.”

Yoongi smiles nervously and leans into Namjoon’s side. Their hands are tightly clasped, Yoongi
clinging to Namjoon like a lifeline. Namjoon did this, he met Yoongi’s friends and was fine.
Yoongi will be fine too. With how many times Namjoon has said his friends will adore him,
maybe Yoongi should just take his word for it.

“Here we go,” Namjoon murmurs, squeezing Yoongi’s hand as the doors open and they step into
the clean interior of the elevator.

Yoongi’s stomach swoops as the elevator begins to rise, making him feel a little queasy and shaky.
A head rush, maybe, as he squeezes Namjoon’s fingers, tries to catch his breath. Here they go.

The elevator stops on the seventh floor and the doors open, depositing them into a quiet hallway.
Namjoon nods toward the left and tows Yoongi down the hallway. Yoongi knows where they’re
headed, he’s sent enough packages to know the door labeled 704 is their destination.

They pause on the threshold, Namjoon glancing at him as he reaches for the knob. There’s a
welcome mat outside the door, a cartoon aloe plant and a printed aloe from the other side on the
mat. Yoongi snorts and Namjoon glances down.

“A gift from Jimin and Tae,” he says with an embarrassed smile.

Yoongi smiles back. “It’s cute.”

“You are,” Namjoon says automatically. Yoongi rolls his eyes and Namjoon bumps him with his
hip. “Ready?”

Leaning up, Yoongi presses a quick kiss to Namjoon’s cheek, earning himself another smile. “I’m
ready.”

Namjoon turns the knob, pushing the door open. They are immediately greeted by a wall of sound.
Three voices yelling, cheers of welcome home and welcome Yoongi and oh my god, he’s so cute all
at once.

Yoongi blinks, taking in a large pink banner with Welcome Home, Yoongi displayed in sparkly
purple letters hanging above the bank of windows across from the door.

A blur of movement and then arms are around him, pulling him against a firm chest. The air is
forced from his lungs as he’s squeezed tightly. “We’re so happy you’re here!”

Jimin’s voice is somehow even sweeter in real life. He pulls back, holding Yoongi at arm’s length
and beaming at him. He’s even prettier in person too, soft blonde hair styled off his forehead,
bright smile and sparkling eyes. Leaning in, he presses a smacking kiss directly on Yoongi’s lips.

“Jimin!” Namjoon scolds, dragging Jimin away from a dazed Yoongi by the back of his striped
shirt. “You can’t just kiss him,” Namjoon huffs, glaring at his best friend.

Namjoon’s scolding doesn’t appear to deter Jimin at all. He just smiles, rocking back on his heels
as he giggles. “Missed you too,” he says sweetly and pulls Namjoon into a hug.

“Welcome to Denver.”

Yoongi turns at the deep voice, seeing Taehyung now standing in front of him. He’s in a button
down and athletic shorts, curls held back by a bandana. An interesting combination that Yoongi is
sure no one else could pull off. “Thanks,” Yoongi replies, a little breathless. “I’m glad to be here?”

Taehyung grins at him, wide and boxy. “Was that supposed to be a question?” He doesn’t wait for
an answer, just pulls Yoongi into a firm hug. “We’re glad you’re here, we can’t wait to get to
know you.”

It’s nice. Yoongi has to admit that it’s nice, how welcoming they are, how genuinely excited
Namjoon’s friends seem. Taehyung lets him go and turns to look over his shoulder, beckoning.
“Kookie, come say hi.”

In the excitement, Yoongi had hardly noticed the other man in the room. He walks shyly forward,
long wavy hair partially obscuring his face. “Nice to meet you,” Jungkook says softly, extending a
tattooed hand for Yoongi to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Yoongi replies, taking his hand.

“Well!” Jimin claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention. “I just want to say -”

"You never miss any opportunity for a speech, babe,” Taehyung cuts in.

Jimin scowls at him before continuing. “Anyway, I just want to say we’re all really happy you’re
back, Namjoon. You have five thousand plants and I am truly sick of watering them.” Jungkook
nudges him and Jimin rolls his eyes. “Plus I guess we missed you, or whatever.”

“Thanks, Jimin.” Namjoon glances around. “Did you clean? I swear it wasn’t this neat in here.” He
pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Also I am pretty sure I didn’t have a rug.”

Yoongi glances around. He’s still in the doorway, Namjoon beside him, the other three men
standing in front of them where the room opens up into the living space. There’s a fluffy patterned
rug on the floor, leather couch and chair resting on it. Polished wood surfaces covered in plants and
books, bookshelves covered in more of the same against the walls and in front of the bank of
windows. It’s a little cluttered but homey, comfortable.

“Of course we did,” Jimin huffs. “Can’t scare Yoongi off with your dirty undies on the floor. Tae
traded the rug for one of his paintings, it’s hand woven.” He turns to face Yoongi more directly,
giving him another smile. “We’re so happy you're here Yoongi. We’ve all loved talking to you
over the phone and we know how much Namjoon cares about you. I know we’re all really looking
forward to getting to know you better.”
Yoongi licks his lips, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Thank you, I -” his voice sounds a
little wet and he breaks off, swallowing hard.

Namjoon steps closer to him, curling an arm around his waist. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he
whispers, kissing Yoongi’s temple.

“Cute,” Jimin coos. His smile softens as he takes in Yoongi’s teary eyes. “We all want to help you
settle in and get comfortable. Please let us know if we can help you at all.”

“Anything you need,” Taehyung echoes, giving him another wide smile. “We can’t wait to take
you to all the best places.”

“You can’t take my boyfriend on a date,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “Be careful Yoongs,” he
says, squeezing Yoongi’s hip, “they’re devils.”

Jimin gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “How could you?” he moans. “You’re going to make
Yoongi not like us.”

“I um -” Jungkook steps forward nervously, a small bag dangling from his fingers. “I got you a
gift.”

Yoongi blinks at the small gift bag and then up at Jungkook, taking in his shy smile. “You didn’t
have to do that.” His throat feels a little tight, eyes burning.

“Ah, it’s just, um, something small.” He passes the bag over, watching as Yoongi removes the
tissue paper. “I got Joonie a Plant Dad one and he said you like coffee. I thought it would be fun if
you had a special mug too but, uh, I didn’t really know what you liked so I just… yeah…” he trails
off, cheeks pink.

Yoongi reaches into the bag and pulls out a coffee mug decorated with a bright green pot leaf and I
got high in Colorado in bubble letters. He smiles, forcing back tears as he looks up at Jungkook
again. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “this is - this is really nice.”

Jungkook grins, wide eyes sparkling. “I’m glad you like it. Um, Namjoon said that you play the -”

“Flirt later, Kookie!” Taehyung says loudly, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. “Let’s bring all
your stuff in then we’ve got food and drinks.” His eyes fall on the mug in Yoongi’s hands and he
grins. “Then we should get fucking high.”

Yoongi is fucking high. He’s high off his ass, melting into Namjoon’s leather sofa, pressed into his
boyfriend’s chest. He’s in Colorado and he’s laughing and smiling and lighter than air. Maybe it’s
the weed, maybe it’s the elevation, maybe it’s everything.

It took them less trips than Yoongi expected to bring everything inside. Jimin does more directing
than actually lifting, but Jungkook easily makes up for it by carrying more than any of them.

Everything was deposited in front of the kitchen, piled on and around the dining table. When
Yoongi took a moment to step back and take it all in, it seemed like very little. All of his personal
belongings, his entire life reduced to a pitiful pile of stuff.

“Anyone want more pizza?” Jimin asks, emerging from the kitchen and dining area with a box of
pizza in hand.
Jungkook lifts both arms in the air from his place flat on the floor by Yoongi and Namjoon’s feet.
“Pepperoni?”

“I think it’s buffalo chicken,” Jimin says as he peers into the box. “Want it?”

“Yeah.” He accepts the box from Jimin and places it on his belly, grabbing a slice and holding it
over his face to eat.

From his seat on the armchair, Taehyung nudges him in the shoulder with his foot. “You’re going
to choke eating like that,” he scolds. Jungkook ignores him.

“More drinks?” Jimin prompts, hovering near the end of the couch. “Or should we pack another
bowl?”

Namjoon shifts, jostling Yoongi a little from where he’s half on his lap. Both of Namjoon’s arms
are around him, curled over his stomach, holding him close. “If I have any more I won’t be able to
word.”

“To word?” Yoongi repeats, chuckling softly. “I think you’ve already lost that battle.”

It’s probably the influence of the weed, but Yoongi is having fun. He’s not as nervous as he had
been and Namjoon’s friends are kind and welcoming. It’s nice to be wanted, to feel almost like he
belongs. But it’s hard to keep his eyes open, hard to stay awake. He finds sleep tugging at him,
melting further into Namjoon as he begins to drift off.

“I think we should probably head out,” Taehyung says, rousing Yoongi from his near slumber. He
pulls Jimin into his lap when he reaches for the grinder on the coffee table. “We’re all suitably
fucked up and we’ve taken enough of Namjoon and Yoongi’s time.”

“You’re fine,” Namjoon says immediately, voice thick and drowsy.

Taehyung waves a hand between them. “You guys are exhausted, you’re practically asleep right
now. And we’re sure you want to settle in.”

“I was having fun, I’m sorry.” He gives Yoongi an apologetic smile. “I hope we didn’t overwhelm
you too much, Yoongi.”

“Only a little.” Yoongi gives him a small smile. It was honestly nice, Yoongi could do this again.
But right now he can barely keep his eyes open. “I’m just really tired.”

Taehyung pats Jimin’s butt until he stands and follows him, stretching his arms over his head as he
gets to his feet. “Come on, Jungkook, you can’t sleep on the floor with the pizza box.” He reaches
a hand down to pull a grumbling Jungkook up and the three head towards the door.

The door clicks closed and Namjoon hugs him gently. “Shower before bed?” Namjoon asks,
nuzzling into his hair.

Yoongi nods, groaning as he forces himself to his feet. “Maybe a tour of your apartment first?”

“Our apartment, babe. This is your apartment too, what’s mine is yours.” He gives Yoongi a smile,
wrapping an arm around his waist as he stands as well.

“This sounds vaguely marriage-y,” Yoongi teases. “Are you proposing to me, Joonie?”

A flush climbs Namjoon’s cheeks and his eyes widen. “I – um, I just meant –“
“I’m just kidding,” Yoongi giggles. He feels so warm and comfortable, laughter bubbling out of
him as he squeezes Namjoon gently. “Don’t explode. Show me around?”

“Tomorrow, just shower now,” Namjoon counters. “But, um, I’d like that, you know, someday.
Marriage and stuff, I just – yeah.”

The warmth increases, heating Yoongi from the inside out, butterflies swirling in his belly. He
leans in and lifts on his toes, pressing their lips gently together. “Me too,” he murmurs, “someday.”

They pull apart, staring at each other for a moment. Yoongi feels a little like he’s floating as
Namjoon takes his hand and leads him down the hall. Yoongi allows himself to be led to the
bathroom and into the shower. Namjoon closes the glass door once they’re both inside, pulling
Yoongi against him beneath the hot water. “The tub is big enough for baths,” he says with a smile.
“We can get some bath bombs.”

“That sounds nice,” Yoongi agrees. “Maybe we can both fit.”

“I bet we can manage it.” Namjoon gently turns him around and Yoongi hears the pop of a bottle
cap. “Let me wash your hair.”

It’s so intimate, Namjoon’s fingers in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. Namjoon’s
hands work shampoo into his hair, soap along his body. He’s too tired to do much more than lean
back against Namjoon’s chest, humming in contentment. This is something Yoongi could get used
to, these moments to melt against Namjoon, long fingers in his hair and a warm body against his.
Perfection and bliss.

Once he’s rinsed clean, Yoongi turns and winds his arms around Namjoon’s neck, pressing their
bodies together and kissing him. Namjoon responds immediately, hands a gentle presence on
Yoongi’s hips. Their mouths move slowly together, a lazy glide of lips, barely there hint of tongue.
The warm water and steam mixed with the residual effects of the marijuana make Yoongi feel light
and airy. Everything is slightly fuzzy, his mind fogged with soft clouds and Namjoon’s gentle
touch.

“Ready for bed?” Namjoon asks quietly when they separate minutes or hours later.

Yoongi nudges their noses together as he nods, smiling against Namjoon’s lips. “I’m tired.”

“Me too.” Namjoon turns the shower off and opens the glass door, grabbing towels. “We can sleep
in as late as we want tomorrow.”

They make their way further down the hall, Namjoon pushing open a door at the end. “Our
bedroom.”

Our bedroom. It sounds so formal, so important, so good.

Everything is dark woods, matching the rest of the furniture in the apartment. A deep green
comforter and armchair, hamper by the closet. And windows, huge windows like in the living
room, floor to ceiling along the far wall. Yoongi steps towards the glass, moving over a soft throw
rug. The view is beautiful, the city illuminated in the darkness, lights shining in the distance.

“On clear days you can see the mountains,” Namjoon says, coming up behind him and wrapping
his arms around Yoongi’s waist. He unwinds himself slowly and they move to the bed, slipping
nude beneath the cool sheets and curling together. “Do you want me to close the curtains?”
Namjoon asks.
Yoongi takes in the lights in the distance, the expanse of the city. He never had a view like this in
Boston, just the dirty street below him, the alley between buildings. “I like it,” he whispers,
tugging Namjoon close.

“I don’t have to be back at work for a few days,” Namjoon says quietly. “We can unpack and get
you settled and I’ll show you around. Sound good?”

Of course Namjoon has to go back to work. They can’t just stay like this, curled beneath soft
sheets, bodies intertwined. And Yoongi needs to find a job, get his life in order. They can’t just
exist like this, half in a dream. “Good,” Yoongi confirms, “but scary.”

“I know,” Namjoon whispers. “But I’m right here with you,” he promises, “you don’t have to do
this alone.”

Maybe that’s what he needs, the love and support beside him, Namjoon’s smile and laugh. “Okay,”
Yoongi mumbles, nuzzling into Namjoon’s chest. “Your bed is comfy. ”

“Our bed, baby," Namjoon responds, dropping a kiss on Yoongi's hair.

Yoongi smiles, wrapping his arms more tightly around his boyfriend. It feels right, good, to be
there together.

The next morning, Namjoon gives him a full tour of the apartment. It’s not huge, but it’s a castle
compared to Yoongi’s shoebox back in Boston. “Living room,” Namjoon says, gesturing around
the space as they stand near the door.

“A lot of plants,” Yoongi points out. “But somehow less than I thought.”

Yoongi has seen most of Namjoon’s apartment through pictures and video. But the deep sage green
of his walls, the green and brown leather of his couch and chair seem much more vibrant in person
and now that he’s slept. Everything does, as if he’s stepped into the photographs themselves.

“I’ll introduce you to all of them in time,” Namjoon says sweetly, tugging Yoongi towards the
hallway. He gestures to an old-fashioned record player against the wall by the doorway to the
dining area. “I got this at a really cool flea market,” Namjoon explains, “it still works great.
Records in the cabinet underneath.”

Namjoon leads him into the dining alcove. “Table, obviously, and kitchen.” Warm brown cabinets,
granite countertops, nice new appliances. There are pictures decorating the fridge, Yoongi can see
Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook featured in them. “I’ll go through where I keep everything
tomorrow. We can move stuff around too, if you want to.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi says softly. “You don’t have to do that.” It’s thoughtful that Namjoon would
consider upsetting his own organization and routine just for him.

“No big deal,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “Okay, back this way –“ he leads Yoongi back to the
hallway. “Bathroom you saw last night.” He gestures to a door on the left and steps forward.
“Laundry.” A door on the right past the record player. “And then bedroom and studio.”

Yoongi has seen Namjoon’s studio many times through video, so he feels like he knows what to
expect. He’s still blown away. The space is large, with huge windows along one wall. Namjoon’s
drum kit is in the corner, a few guitars are sitting on stands to the side. The wall across from the
windows is all closets, but the other two walls are completely covered in posters and concert flyers.
A pride flag, a little wrinkled, hangs on the far wall by the drums.

“Damn,” Yoongi breathes. “This is amazing.”

“It’s not much,” Namjoon says modestly, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s much more than
Yoongi had. Especially the desk with the fancy computer, sound equipment, an expensive looking
camera and lights. “We can put your keyboard and guitars in here.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your space,” Yoongi begins.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, pulling Yoongi closer by their linked hands. “It’s your space too, babe. I
can’t wait to play together, record some videos. I’ve been dreaming of this.” He grins and Yoongi
can’t help but grin back, lighting up under Namjoon’s excitement.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good,” Namjoon says happily. “Do you like it here?” he asks, pulling Yoongi against him.

“So far so good.” Yoongi is still trying to make himself believe this is real, that all of this is
happening. “I feel –“ he cuts off. He doesn’t know how to explain it, how to make it make sense.
This is not a vacation he will have to leave from, this is not a dream. This is a new start, something
fresh and exciting, in this apartment that is theirs. “I feel happy,” he says finally.

Namjoon’s arms tighten around him and he kisses Yoongi’s cheek gently, lingering against his
skin. “Me too,” Namjoon whispers. “Happy with you.”

Namjoon makes good on his promise of introducing Yoongi to his plants. It should be silly,
probably, but it doesn’t feel that way. He’s so earnest, so sweet, that Yoongi hangs on his every
word.

They start in the bedroom when they wake up from a nap after the tour. It takes them a little while
to get out of bed, waking in the early afternoon and not wanting to leave the cocoon of blankets.
Namjoon pulls the covers over their heads and pulls Yoongi against him, capturing his lips to lick
into his mouth. Bad breath and residual cotton mouth aren’t a concern when Namjoon’s hands and
lips have him gasping. And Namjoon takes his time, kissing a tickling trail down Yoongi’s body
until he can take him into his mouth.

Yoongi sees stars, hands fisted in Namjoon’s hair as his thighs tremble and he shakes apart. He
pants for breath after, chest heaving, before he wrestles Namjoon onto his back and swallows his
cock down. Namjoon comes with a ragged groan, Yoongi’s mouth around his cock and one of
Yoongi’s spit slicked fingers in his hole, stroking over his prostate.

It takes them a few more minutes to pull themselves from bed, kissing lazily as they recover. Then
Namjoon drags him up to show him the mountains through the window, visible now that fog has
dissipated. They’re beautiful, arching into the distance against the blue sky. It makes him feel
small, like at the sculpture park, but it’s not an entirely bad feeling.

“My plants look pretty good,” Namjoon mumbles. “Though this one could use a bit more water.”

Yoongi turns, seeing Namjoon crouching down next to the chair in the corner, peering into a plant
pot. “Everything okay?”

Namjoon glances up, blinking behind his glasses. “Ah, yeah. This was a big favor and they did a
great job, they just didn’t follow my watering schedule as strictly as I hoped.”

“You have a watering schedule?” Yoongi asks, quirking a smile.

“Of course I do!” Namjoon huffs. “Some of my plants require different care and different amounts
of water. Everything is individualized. So my philodendron -” he gestures to a plant with large oval
leaves, “has a different watering schedule than my snake plant.” Another gesture, this time to a
different pot with a plant with leaves, or maybe branches, Yoongi doesn’t know the right word, that
stand straight up.

“I see,” Yoongi says slowly. It’s cute, watching Namjoon fuss over the plants. “Do you want to
show me?”

Namjoon turns, looking at him suspiciously for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoongi asks in confusion.

Sitting back on his heels, Namjoon shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “I just - I don’t know, you
don’t think it’s weird?”

“You’re not weird for liking plants, Namjoon. I think it’s nice how much you care about them, and
I love anything you’re passionate about. Show me?”

Namjoon’s eyes light up and he smiles, dimples popping in his cheeks. He nods and gets to his
feet. “Okay, yeah I - okay.” He beams, pulling Yoongi into a quick hug and kissing his forehead.
“I’d love to show you.”

Yoongi meets all of the plants and learns their names and temperaments, their watering schedules
and care guides. They move from the bedroom to the studio, and then to the bathroom to the little
Christmas cactus on the counter by the sink.

But the majority of the plants are in the living room, dotting shelves and bookcases, displayed in
large pots in the corners and by the door to the balcony. Namjoon goes through them all, from the
hanging spider plant to the large fern in the corner.

“This one is my favorite,” he admits when they stop at the coffee table in front of the couch. “It’s a
red plum blossom tree. I got it right after I graduated college and it’s moved around with me. It
blooms year round and it’s grown so much. I know it’s small but it - I just - it means a lot to me. It
was barely a seedling when I brought it home.” Namjoon smiles fondly at the little plant with the
red-orange flowers.

Yoongi gets it, he understands the feeling of seeing something you’ve taken such good care of
flourish. Namjoon is nurturing and kind, treating his plants with such care and attention. It’s not
surprising that it translates to how he treats his friends, and to how he treats Yoongi. Yoongi
watches him, smiling softly as Namjoon beams at the tiny plant.

“I water it every morning so it will grow big and strong and -” he pauses, glancing to the side. His
lips turn up into a teasing smile and he bites his lip. “Do you think if I watered you every day
you’d grow big and strong?”

“Hey!” Yoongi slaps his arm. “You’re not funny! Keep that up and you’re not getting your dick
sucked again in the morning.”

Namjoon laughs, pulling Yoongi against him and dusting his cheeks with kisses as he tries to
squirm away. “Maybe that’s how you’ll grow big and strong, feed you every morning?”
“You’re disgusting,” Yoongi snaps, slapping at his chest. “I can’t believe you, I’ll pee on your
plants, let me go!”

They fall onto the couch in a heap, Namjoon dragging Yoongi up to press their lips together.
“You’re my favorite tiny thing,” he murmurs. Yoongi should fight him more, but he can’t seem to
find the strength, not as Namjoon cups his cheeks and smiles into the kiss.

Settling in comes in fits and starts, highs and lows. It comes in small steps, like finding space for
all of Yoongi’s clothes and putting his new mug in the cabinet beside Namjoon’s. And it comes in
bigger steps, like Namjoon giving him a key to the apartment and getting a Colorado driver’s
license. It’s good, mostly, which is what he tells Hoseok and Seokjin when they call. Learning to
live together will always have trials and tests, and sometimes they can be tough.

Yoongi knew going into this that not everything would be easy, it wouldn’t always be perfect. But
his life wasn’t perfect before either, not even close. At least this way he has Namjoon with him,
even if they might butt heads sometimes. He has Namjoon and they are figuring things out
together.

And there are good things, highs that make him smile and buoy him up, remind him of what he
gained. They make this experience worth any growing pains.

There are wonderful things, like waking up beside Namjoon every morning. Yoongi thinks that is
worth anything. On the mornings Namjoon works, his alarm pulls them both from sleep. Namjoon
groans, wrapping himself more tightly around Yoongi and nuzzling against him, seeking his
warmth. Sometimes they have time for a few minutes of lazy kissing, bodies pressed flush
together, morning breath not forcing them apart. Sometimes they have time for a little more, until
Namjoon will be running late for work.

“I could call in sick,” Namjoon murmurs, “stay here with you.”

Yoongi kisses him again, pressing closer to grind their bodies together. “You don’t work
tomorrow,” he whispers back, “just get through today.”

Grumbling, Namjoon climbs out of bed and wanders to the bathroom. Yoongi admires his naked
body as he leaves the room, strong broad shoulders, the swell of his ass, toned thighs. Namjoon
always insists Yoongi can stay in bed, sleep in and relax, but Yoongi rarely does. Once he hears the
bathroom door close, he slides out of bed and stretches. Pulling on a pair of boxers from the floor,
he pads out of the bedroom and down the hall.

The morning sunlight is bright through the living room windows, following Yoongi into the
kitchen. The next steps come with practiced ease, getting out plates, mugs, and ingredients. It had
taken a little while to learn the cabinet organization, but now it’s second nature. He turns on the
coffee maker as he starts the stove, cracking eggs into a pan.

By the time the shower turns on, Yoongi has Namjoon’s travel mug filled with hot coffee and is
adding cheese to the eggs, meat, and veggies in the pan. He pauses in laying out a tortilla for the
breakfast burrito, chuckling to himself. A warbling voice, loud and off key, floats to him from the
bathroom. Namjoon’s shower singing is horrible, but it’s one of Yoongi’s favorite things about the
morning.

Namjoon emerges in a button down and jeans just as Yoongi is finishing packing his lunch,
beaming at him as he tucks in his shirt. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I like to,” Yoongi says immediately. He hasn’t found a job yet, it’s nice to feel useful. “And I
want you to eat something other than Funyuns from the vending machine.”

Pulling him close by the waistband of his boxers, which Yoongi now realizes are actually a pair of
Namjoon’s, Namjoon kisses him tenderly. He tastes like mint toothpaste, sliding his hand around
to hold Yoongi by the small of his back as he smiles against his lips. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.” Yoongi steps back and gathers the lunchbox and coffee, pressing them into
Namjoon’s hands. “Go before you’re late.”

“One more kiss?” Namjoon pouts.

How could Yoongi say no? He lifts on his toes, cupping Namjoon’s jaw for one last lingering kiss.
“Have a good day.”

“You too, I’ll see you in a few hours!” And with that, Namjoon is gone.

The mornings are sweet like that, a routine that Yoongi enjoys. The weekends are even sweeter,
when they can lay in bed for as long as they want, touching and tasting. Rolling around beneath the
blankets as the sun illuminates their skin. Namjoon, golden and beautiful, arching over him to
capture his mouth, make him gasp.

Yoongi spends a good portion of his days job hunting, applying for anything that might catch his
eye. They spend an evening going over Yoongi’s resume, seated at the kitchen table looking
through it together. Namjoon had offered before, but he hadn’t brought it up again, giving Yoongi
space to make his own decision. Yoongi asked him over dinner one night, after they cooked
together, both of them laughing as Namjoon upturned the spaghetti into the sink instead of the
colander.

Namjoon agreed quickly, and Yoongi finds himself hunched beside Namjoon an hour later. He
curls in on him as Namjoon reads, jotting notes in the margins. Shame churns in Yoongi’s belly,
embarrassment at the unfinished degree, the string of shitty jobs. But Namjoon doesn’t comment
about things like that. He sees the good in everything.

“You know,” he says, jotting a note on the side of the page, “you have a lot of customer service
experience.”

Retail and restaurants, of course he does. “Yeah…” Yoongi says warily.

“That’s really great,” Namjoon says with a smile. “Employers will like that you have those
customer service skills, we can add more about that.” He scans down the page. “And this is great
here, you received a service award. You should definitely highlight that more.”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably beside him. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he mumbles.

“Of course it’s a big deal,” Namjoon responds. “You have a lot of really great skills, Yoongi, you
need to show them.” He nudges him gently. “We just need a few changes to really make your
resume shine.”

It doesn’t seem true that Yoongi has lots of great skills. But maybe he does, maybe he just needs
Namjoon’s spin on things, his optimism.

With all the chaos of their trip and moving, both Namjoon and Yoongi have been a little lax with
their YouTube channels. Yoongi feels like it’s been ages since he’s uploaded something new. He’s
gotten comments and messages asking for new content, asking if he’s going to be continuing.

The comments only increase when he posts on Twitter. It’s a nervous moment, Yoongi’s thumb
hovering over the Tweet button as Namjoon sits beside him. “You don’t have to post it,” Namjoon
says simply, rubbing Yoongi’s back. “It’s fine if you’re not comfortable.”

Yoongi stares down at the post. It’s a selfie, a picture of Namjoon and Yoongi on their trip in
Nashville. They’re both smiling at the camera, eyes squinting in the sun. They look happy. The
message accompanying it is simple.

You’ve always wanted a collab, get ready!

Their Twitter followers are aware they’re friends, probably aware they’re dating. They’ve never
explicitly said it, but they don’t try to hide it. This will be confirmation, and what’s more, it’s the
first time Yoongi has posted his face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t post it,” Namjoon says suddenly. Yoongi freezes, head snapping around to
stare at Namjoon in surprise.

“What, I –“

“Mhm.” Namjoon nods sagely. “Everyone’s going to see how cute you are and try to steal you
from me. You’re going to have all sorts of weirdos in your messages trying to woo you.”

“Woo me?” Yoongi bites his lip to hide his smile. “You’re ridiculous.” But it gives him the nudge
he needs and he taps the screen, posting the picture.

He immediately locks his phone after, turning it face down and setting it beside them on the couch.
Namjoon, however, unlocks his and goes to Twitter. Yoongi tagged him in the post so he finds it
quickly, retweeting it with his own caption and a winking emoji.

I’ve managed to steal him away to Colorado. Expect lots of videos in the future!

“Everyone’s going to know we’re dating,” Yoongi grumbles.

“That’s the idea,” Namjoon laughs. “You have too many fans, gotta stake my claim now. Besides,
everyone already assumed we were dating anyway.”

Yoongi shrugs. “You’re probably right.” He shifts on the couch, leaning into Namjoon’s side. He
doesn’t have a problem with that, he doesn’t mind people knowing he’s dating Namjoon. He’s just
struggling with showing more of himself and his life. “Have you chosen a song?”

Namjoon nods, getting to his feet and stretching his arms over his head. The hem of his tank top
slides up, revealing a strip of tanned stomach. Yoongi licks his lips and refocuses on Namjoon’s
face. “I thought we could do a throwback?”

Making his way to the corner, Namjoon sits down at the drum set and picks up his sticks. He
begins to play and Yoongi listens for a moment before smiling. “Hotel Yorba?”

“It’s technically how we met,” Namjoon says with a grin. “Isn’t it fitting?”

“Very,” Yoongi agrees. “But this is absolutely a relationship declaration, there’s no going back
from this.”
Namjoon snorts. “I asked you to move to Colorado with me after knowing you in person for like
three days. Do you really think I want to go back from this?”

“No,” Yoongi mumbles, ducking his head to hide his smile. “I guess not.”

“Good,” Namjoon says happily. “I’ll set everything up to record and – oh, do you want me to angle
the camera so you’re not on –“

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says quickly. “Everyone’s seen my face now, might as well go with it, right?”

Namjoon considers him for a moment, standing over his camera on the desk. “I’m proud of you,”
he says finally. Yoongi doesn’t respond, just busies himself with picking up one of his guitars,
beginning to tune it. “But I know what this really is,” Namjoon continues. “You’re searching for
another dude on the internet to date. Are you trying to find a sugar daddy, babe? If so I can –“

He only stops talking when Yoongi throws a guitar pick at him.

“Maybe we should make a joint account on YouTube?” Namjoon suggests, nosing at Yoongi’s
hair.

They’re curled up on the couch in the studio scrolling through the comments on Twitter and
YouTube. They had recorded and uploaded the video a few hours ago. After a quick pause to eat
lunch and make out on the couch, they’re diving in to see the reviews. And they’re
overwhelmingly positive.

“People do seem to like us doing things together,” Yoongi murmurs, watching comments flash by.

Compliments on the music, how they sound together, how great it is for the collab. And more
personal ones… how excited people are to finally see Yoongi’s face, how cute they are together.

“I like this one.” Yoongi points to a Twitter comment omg I didn’t know Namjoon was gay??!!

Namjoon snorts, pausing to like it before continuing to scroll. “You’d think the giant rainbow flag
behind me in all of my videos would be a tip off.”

“We should record more videos together,” Yoongi says lightly.

Namjoon shifts beside him, pulling Yoongi closer with an arm around his shoulders. “Yeah? You
think you want to?”

“I liked it a lot,” he admits. “Maybe we can post more pictures too…”

“I’d love that,” Namjoon agrees. “But only if you’re comfortable.”

Yoongi turns, rolling half onto Namjoon’s lap and peering up at him. “I’m comfortable with you,
Joonie.”

Namjoon’s smile is soft, fond, his eyes sparkle. “Good,” he whispers. His smile widens. “Now I
can show you off.”

Yoongi's surprised burst of laughter is cut off by Namjoon dragging him into a kiss.

⟿
As good as it is to spend time with Namjoon, Yoongi finds he also likes spending time with
Namjoon's friends. Or, well, their friends. Because it feels like that, like Jimin, Taehyung, and
Jungkook are Yoongi's friends too.

They hang out all together, the five of them going for drinks, chatting, and laughing. Yoongi
doesn't feel like an awkward addition, he's included in conversation and feels wanted.

"Yoongi, have you ever been skiing?" Jimin asks, practically draping himself over the table to get
closer to him.

Yoongi nods. "I'm from New England, it's practically a given." He smiles self-consciously. "I'm not
very good though." And skiing could be an expensive hobby, he's only been a few times with
Seokjin and Hoseok, them covering the cost of ski rentals despite Yoongi’s protests. They loved
renting a place at their favorite mountain in Vermont. Yoongi has skied, or, more accurately, fallen
down one or two mountains.

"You'll have to come with us this winter." Jimin beams at him, reaching out to take both of
Yoongi's hands. "I bet you've never skied anything like the snow here, it's great."

"Jimin's family has a chalet in Aspen," Namjoon explains. "We usually go a few times every year."

Taehyung laughs. "We all ski, well Jungkook snowboards, but Namjoon tends to stay in the chalet
or the lodge."

"It's a great time to read," Namjoon sniffs.

Jimin giggles. "Only if you can't stand up for more than three seconds on skis." He turns back to
Yoongi, smiling sweetly. "Joonie usually ends up eating a lot of snow when he skis."

"Remember that time his pole got stuck and he went flying?" Jungkook adds, grinning. "Whole
yard sale! We never even found his other glove."

"That's enough," Namjoon cuts in, "don't embarrass me."

Yoongi smiles as they all start bickering. He can't imagine what it's like to take multiple trips to
somewhere fancy like Aspen a few times a winter. Things like that have never been possible for
him.

He had been worried at first, that Namjoon's friends would look down on him. They all come from
good families, are all doing very well for themselves. Yoongi's been in Denver a couple months
and is still struggling to find meaningful work. And he's never really had meaningful work in his
life. Something that made him happy, brought him any kind of joy. He wants something where he
can feel like he’s done something worthwhile, where he doesn’t feel ashamed to say where he
works.

But Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook don't seem to care. They're not stuck up or elitist, they like
Yoongi for who he is. He's never felt judged by them. Though it's weird sometimes, to hear them
talk so casually about things Yoongi could only dream of.

"Anyway!" Jimin says once the bickering dies down. "It'll be really great for all of us to go this
year." Jimin smiles at him, grinning wide and open. "We're so glad you're finally here."

Yoongi spends time with the other guys individually and in small groups as well. They show up
randomly at the apartment to drag him places or text him begging for attention.

Jimin loves popping by unannounced, sashaying into the apartment to drag Yoongi out around the
city with him. Yoongi stopped lounging around the apartment in his boxers on days he knows
Jimin isn’t working, prepared for surprise visits. He doesn’t need a repeat of Jimin’s feral smile
and wolf whistle when he caught Yoongi napping on the couch in his underwear.

They’ll get bubble tea, sometimes coffee or smoothies and walk around. Yoongi finds that under
the bright and beautiful, larger than life exterior, Jimin is as sweet as Namjoon said. A fantastic
listener who offers gentle encouragement and very tight hugs. Yoongi finds it difficult to open up,
he always has, but it’s not always hard to share things with Jimin. Jimin who, despite his sparkle,
has his own insecurities.

Outings with Taehyung are very different. They normally spend time in the gallery where
Taehyung works, a text inviting Yoongi to hang out. Taehyung’s studio is in the basement, a mess
of half-finished canvases and drying paint puddles. It’s nice, to sink into one of the bean bag chairs
on the floor and smoke while Taehyung paints.

They talk about everything and nothing, sometimes remaining quiet as Taehyung works. It’s
comforting, calming, and is something Yoongi enjoys on days where he’s feeling a little down.
Taehyung always seems to know when these days are. Maybe he gets the impression from their
group chat or from Namjoon, maybe he just knows. But he’ll invite Yoongi over to smoke and de-
stress, sharing funny stories and rambling about art. His deep voice is soothing, and the way he
speaks, slow and steady, always lulls Yoongi into an easy calm.

And sometimes they drag Yoongi out together, or invite him to their apartment. It’s nice, seeing the
way they complement and obviously love each other. It’s refreshing, like being with Seokjin and
Hoseok.

However, the person he’s gotten closest to is Jungkook. It took a little while for him to open up,
shy smiles and nervous mumbles morphing into huge grins and the most joyous laugh Yoongi has
ever heard. Jungkook works a few jobs: freelance artist and writer, tattoo artist, personal trainer,
and probably more. His schedule always changes, though he has a good amount of free time while
Namjoon is at work.

So if Yoongi is feeling lonely, he goes to Jungkook.

A couple days a week he’ll spend a few hours at Jungkook’s apartment, teaching him piano and
hanging out. Despite Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook insists on paying him for his time.

“You know,” Jungkook says one afternoon when they’re sitting on his balcony together, “I don’t
think you’re a mess.”

Yoongi snorts, glancing at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. “I didn’t say I’m a mess.”

Jungkook smiles disarmingly. “You didn’t have to, I feel the same way about myself sometimes.”

“You have your shit together,” Yoongi points out, wrapping his arms around himself. “How are
you a mess?”

A shrug, Jungkook staring out at the city instead of looking over at him. “My head feels messy
sometimes.” He pauses. “It’s okay not to have all your shit together. You’re working on it.”
Jungkook looks over then, giving him a small smile. “Isn’t that enough?”

Sometimes it is, but it never feels like he’s doing enough. “Maybe,” he says noncommittally.
“Namjoon mentioned maybe talking to someone, a therapist. I could give you some numbers,”
Jungkook says casually. “To give to him, of course.”

Yoongi swallows hard, shifting in his chair. “Yeah, that might be nice. For Namjoon, yeah.”

“There’s this really great psych at the local resource center, I think you, or Namjoon, might like
her.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says quietly. “Thanks, Kook.”

“No problem.” Jungkook smiles at him, all bright teeth and scrunched nose. “Okay, so –“ he points
up to the sky, “does that cloud look like Jimin’s ass or am I higher than I thought?”

It’s a little surreal sometimes, when he wakes to the city lights shining through the window,
Namjoon asleep beside him. It doesn’t always feel real, a jolt of fear that it’s only a dream. But
then Namjoon will shift and pull Yoongi closer, as if sensing his anxiety, and Yoongi’s fear slips
away.

Finding places for all of Yoongi’s things is difficult. The apartment isn’t huge and, like most
apartments, there isn’t much storage space. Namjoon happily clears out space in his closet and
dresser and Yoongi fills them. Each shirt on a hanger, each pair of socks in a drawer feels like
another brick in the new life he’s building. But Yoongi’s books and pictures, random toiletries and
other items linger in boxes. Namjoon, busy getting back to work, hardly seems to notice. And
Yoongi finds himself too nervous to ask where he should put things.

Namjoon, with his one-track mind, can be a little thoughtless sometimes. It’s hard to blame him for
it, he’s used to being alone. Adjusting his life and his schedule to accommodate another person
isn’t always going to be easy. And Namjoon, despite his brilliance, is notoriously scatterbrained.

They’re simple things, usually, small incidents that don’t mean much alone. But together, they
compound and build. Namjoon gets caught up in what he’s doing and ignores the world around
him, seeming almost to forget Yoongi is there. It’s tough sometimes, annoying when Yoongi is
trying to get his attention. Like Namjoon’s phone, which seems to be glued to his hand. He’s on it
all the time, scrolling websites and social media, showing Yoongi pictures and videos. It makes
sense, probably, since their relationship was pretty much only phone-based for a year. But now that
Yoongi has the real thing, he wants to experience it.

It’s not a huge deal, they might be on the couch or unwinding before bed. And Namjoon doesn’t
exactly shut him out when he’s doing it, though it can be hard to get his attention. But it’s during
meals that Yoongi gets most annoyed.

“Namjoon, did you –“ Yoongi pauses, blinking across the table to see Namjoon’s eyes fixed on his
phone. “Joon? Joonie? Namjoon!”

Startled, Namjoon looks up, nearly putting his elbow in his pasta. “Sorry, babe, did you say
something?” Yoongi just stares at him. “Oh, sorry! Let me just finish this up…” he trails off,
thumbs tapping at the screen. And Yoongi waits, fighting the itch of irritation.

By the time Namjoon puts his phone down, Yoongi often doesn’t even remember what he was
going to say. And the phone usually goes along with Namjoon’s biggest issue, one Yoongi is
surprised he never noticed. The emails, the random calls, the texts and notifications. All from
work. Namjoon thinks nothing of dropping whatever he’s doing to respond or take a call.

They’re at the grocery store one afternoon when Namjoon gets a call. “I need to take this, I’ll be
back in a second!”

Before Yoongi can even respond, Namjoon has his phone to his ear and is dashing out of the store.
Yoongi has no idea what a librarian could be so busy with, when he asks Namjoon says he has a lot
of special projects, but the time adds up. And it keeps adding up. Yoongi finishes most of the
shopping and waits at the end of an aisle. Of course Namjoon has the list on his phone, of course.

After fifteen minutes, Yoongi pulls out his phone and tries to call him, scowling when it goes
immediately to voicemail. He waits another ten minutes before pushing the cart to the registers and
checking out. When he steps outside, Namjoon is on a bench by the door talking animatedly into
his phone. He takes one look at Yoongi and freezes.

“I have to go,” he says quickly, hanging up his phone. He stands, offering a small smile. “Sorry,
babe, Mark is working on that new project with the state legislature and he needed my help.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi snaps. It’s not fine, but Yoongi doesn’t know how to say that. “I don’t know if I
got everything, you have the list.”

Namjoon blanches, looking guilty. “I’m sorry. I can always come back later. Let me help with the
bags?” Namjoon grabs some of the bags from Yoongi’s hands and nudges him with his hip. “I am
sorry,” he mumbles, “this project is just…”

“I know.” Yoongi fumbles in his pocket for the keys, hampered by more bags. “I know you’re
busy at work Namjoon, but this is… it’s Saturday and you’ve been distracted all day.”

There’s a beat of silence and when Yoongi looks over, Namjoon is frowning. “This project is
important to me,” Namjoon says carefully, “it could be really big for my career.”

They put the bags in the trunk and Namjoon closes it. They stand at the end of the car, staring at
each other. “I want to be important to you, too.”

Namjoon’s face falls, frown disappearing as he looks stricken. “Yoongi, no, I’m sorry, I – shit.” He
runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to think you’re not important.” He steps forward,
pulling Yoongi in by his waist. “You’re the most important thing.”

“I’m not trying to stop you from working, I know you like your job and you’re busy. I know you’re
working on your PhD and you don’t have a lot of time. I just –“

“I know,” Namjoon says quickly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been present, it’s not fair to you. Especially
being new to the city.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and powers it down. “Just you and me
today, okay? I know I’m not good at balancing things, but I’ll try to be better. I have to do this this
weekend, but I can take today for us.”

Yoongi knows there are things he needs to try to be better about too. His anxiety, his inability to
open up and accept help, the way he gets tangled up in his thoughts and doesn’t want to leave the
apartment alone. Things he is working on, trying to. Things he wants to do better. They’re trying,
together, working hard on themselves. Yoongi nods, a little mollified. He knows it might not last,
that Namjoon will be stuck to his phone again tomorrow, but it’s a start.

Yoongi feels like he’s in survival mode. Now that he’s in Denver, the nervous itch to find a job, to
be able to contribute plagues him. Maybe he shouldn’t be as particular as he’s being, just take what
he can find, but he doesn’t want to be miserable. Namjoon has urged him to find something he’ll
enjoy, a job he won’t hate. But he doesn’t know exactly what he’ll enjoy and the anxiety builds as
he feels useless.

Sometimes, when Namjoon is at work, Yoongi feels trapped in the apartment. It’s hard, not having
a job to go to. Yoongi never would have expected he’d miss that routine, but he does. It got him out
and now, in a new unfamiliar city, he feels stuck. Namjoon often bikes to work, leaving Yoongi
the car keys in case he wants to go anywhere. But where would he go?

He goes out with Namjoon, and with their friends, but he has a hard time going out alone. Anxiety
prevents him from braving the city alone, his trembling fingers making the keys shake in his hand
when he picks them up. So he hides in the apartment, applying for jobs and trying not to bite his
nails.

He paces, he counts windows on the buildings across from their own, he tunes his guitar until the
strings snap. It’s weird, this feeling, he’s always been a homebody but it’s gotten overwhelming.
Like a caged animal with nowhere to go. When Seokjin and Hoseok call, he’s too embarrassed to
tell them, though they clearly pick up on it.

“What are you up to today?” Hoseok chirps.

Yoongi shifts from his seat on the couch, laptop on the coffee table before him. “Job hunting, the
usual.”

“Hm,” Hoseok hums. “From home?”

“Where else?” Yoongi huffs.

Hoseok makes a small noise of discontent through the phone. “Couldn’t you do it from a coffee
shop?”

“Why does it matter?”

There’s a shuffling sound, a muffled hey and then Seokjin’s voice. “Tell the truth, has Namjoon
chained you to the radiator?”

“What?” Yoongi blusters. “What the fuck are you talking about?

Seokjin snorts, sounding annoying. “Unless you’re with Namjoon or one of your new best buddies
–“

“Don’t sound so jealous,” Yoongi cuts in.

“Don’t interrupt me!” Seokjin snaps back. “You never leave the apartment by yourself, only when
–“ he pauses, takes a breath. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle. “Are you okay?

Oh.

“Denver is just…” Yoongi trails off, frowns, starts again. “The city is big and I…”

“You are very small,” Seokjin finishes, but it’s not teasing, not unkind.

“You’re never going to get to know your new home if you don’t try,” Hoseok says gently. They
must have put him on speaker phone. “We can even stay on the phone with you if you want.”
It hits him then, how much he misses Seokjin and Hoseok. Maybe that’s been part of it. When he’s
here alone and he can’t just walk the fifteen minutes to their apartment, can’t text them to meet for
a beer. “Maybe tomorrow,” he mumbles.

“Yoongi, you need to –“

“Tomorrow,” Yoongi repeats, cutting Seokjin off. “I’m tired.”

Quiet, a shuffling on the other end of the line. “Do you want us to let you go so you can rest?”

“No.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, almost pathetically so. “Can you –“

“Of course we can,” Hoseok says, not needing Yoongi to finish his thought. “We miss you.”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed, swallowing hard. “I –“

“I watched one of those tour busses hit a lamp post yesterday,” Seokjin interrupts, voice loud and
bright. “One lady screamed so loud she scared a flock of pigeons!”

A smile tugs at Yoongi’s lips. He appreciates it, Seokjin not dwelling on it, just steering things in
another direction. They get it, they usually do, what Yoongi needs. Just them, for them to talk and
make things normal. He sinks lower on the couch, resting his head against the cushions as he
listens to Seokjin ramble.

Namjoon’s comment over dinner shouldn’t be a surprise. Honestly, Yoongi should have been
expecting it. But here he is, mouth agape, probably giving Namjoon an excellent view of half-
chewed chicken. Yoongi swallows painfully hard and reaches for his glass of water, taking a long
gulp. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again.

“Why do you look like that?”

Clearing his throat, Yoongi takes another sip of water before speaking. “Repeat what you said?”

“Okay…” Namjoon begins. “My parents will be in town in a couple months, I want you to meet
them.”

Should have expected it. That’s what two adults in a committed relationship do, they meet each
other’s parents. Often before moving in together. They have skipped some steps.

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away and Namjoon continues. “I’ve told them about you,” he says
gently. Yoongi stiffens and Namjoon notices, sliding a hand across their dining table to curl his
fingers around Yoongi’s palm. “They want to meet you.”

What could Namjoon have told them? What could Namjoon have told his parents that would make
them want to meet Yoongi? Maybe they just want to meet him so they can tell Yoongi never to
speak to their darling son again. Probably. Maybe it’ll be like one of those shitty TV movies where
they try to pay him off. Write him a check to –

“You’re thinking very hard,” Namjoon observes.

Yoongi’s gaze snaps from their clasped hands to Namjoon’s face. He’s watching Yoongi carefully,
face pleasantly neutral. “Why do you want me to meet them?” Yoongi croaks.

“Is that a real question?” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Because I love you, Yoongi. I love you and you
are an important part of my life. Obviously I am very serious about this relationship, I want my
parents to meet my very serious boyfriend who I love very much.”

“It’s a big step,” Yoongi mumbles.

Namjoon smiles gently, encouragingly. “So is moving in together, or taking a cross country road
trip to do so. I won’t be mad if you say no,” Namjoon assures him, “but I really want this.”

He won’t be mad, but Yoongi’s sure he’ll be disappointed.

“Just dinner,” Namjoon prompts. “Think about it?”

Yoongi nods woodenly. “Okay.”

Two days later, Yoongi is lying belly up on Jungkook’s living room floor, staring at the glow in
the dark stars on his ceiling. Jungkook is humming softly along to Rilo Kiley over his speakers,
Yoongi’s hand in his lap. One hand holds Yoongi’s own firmly, the other carefully stroking
midnight blue nail polish over his nails. Yoongi’s free hand is held in the air above him, letting the
polish dry.

“And what did you say?”

Yoongi’s mouth twists and he wriggles uncomfortably on the carpet. “That I’d think about it.”

“Don’t move,” Jungkook chides. He’s quiet for a moment, tiny brush resuming its path on
Yoongi’s nail. “And have you?” he prompts.

“Sort of.” Jungkook doesn’t speak, just waits for Yoongi to continue. “Have you met them?” he
asks finally.

Jungkook nods, his long wavy hair, blue now, falling into his eyes as he does. “They’re really
nice,” Jungkook responds. “Very kind, pretty cool.”

They lapse into quiet again, Jungkook singing softly as Spectacular Views comes on. Yoongi
blinks at the ceiling, chews his lip. “What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll like you,” Jungkook says firmly.

“How do you know?”

Jungkook leans back, inspecting Yoongi’s fingers. He blows gently against his nails before
capping the bottle and flopping onto the floor next to him. “What’s not to like?

“JK,” Yoongi huffs, “be serious.”

“I am being serious.” Jungkook pats Yoongi’s leg gently. “You’re kind, smart and very cute. You
clearly love their son and you’re working hard to try to better yourself. You moved halfway across
the country to do that, that’s brave.”

Yoongi can feel Jungkook’s eyes on the side of his face. It’s nice to have Jungkook, another person
to reassure him. “I guess…” he mumbles, trailing off.

“You’re a good guy, Yoongi. They’ll see that. You just need to be a little more self-confident.” He
sits up, stretching his arms over his head. “Did you ever, uh, give those numbers to Namjoon? For
the resource center?”

“I have them in my wallet,” he responds, voice small. Jungkook doesn’t need to pretend, they both
know who the numbers are for. “I should.”

“It might be a good idea.” He pushes to his feet. “Want a Fruit by the Foot?”

“Feed it to me?”

Jungkook grins down at him. “Promise to use those numbers? And consider meeting the Kims?”

“I can’t be bribed with children’s snacks.” He absolutely can be bribed with children’s snacks. His
stomach gurgles loudly and Jungkook giggles. “Fine, but I want one of those Kool-Aids I know
you have too.”

“Deal!” Jungkook laughs, heading towards the kitchen. He pauses, turning back around to give
Yoongi a soft smile. “They really will like you,” he promises.

It all comes to a head at once, a low simmering pot suddenly boiling over, catching fire. While
Namjoon’s thoughtlessness improves a little when it comes to Yoongi, it suffers in other areas.
Jimin wasn’t joking about how messy Namjoon is. Dirty clothes on the floor, shoes kicked off in
the hall, baskets of unfolded clean laundry at the end of the bed. And when he’s often stuck in the
apartment, sometimes by his own design, he notices it more. He’s surrounded by the clutter and
mess, unable to escape.

He finds himself cleaning almost constantly. Picking up Namjoon’s messes, left all over the
apartment as if Namjoon doesn’t even notice them. Countless loads of laundry, vacuuming up
crumbs from the strangest places, cleaning and tidying and straightening. And Yoongi isn’t a neat
freak, he’s not obsessed with cleanliness. But he can’t imagine what Namjoon’s apartment looked
like before Jimin cleaned.

And the dishes. Glasses and bowls in the studio, on the side of the bed, plates and cups and mugs
in the living room, left on the table. If Yoongi wants clean dishes for them to eat off of, he has to
wash them before each meal. They’ll pile up if Yoongi doesn’t do them, especially once he gathers
them from wherever Namjoon leaves them.

Namjoon doesn’t even seem to notice. They’ll finish dinner and Namjoon will carry his dishes into
the kitchen, drop them in the sink and wander away. Maybe he thinks there’s a magical fairy that
lives in his kitchen, loading his dishwasher and scrubbing his pots and pans. Maybe there is. And
his name is Yoongi.

It grates on him, makes him grit his teeth as his fingers prune in the dirty water. Yoongi knows he’s
not contributing much. He doesn’t have a job other than giving Jungkook piano lessons, he’s not
bringing in any income. Maybe Namjoon sees this as Yoongi’s contribution, someone to pick up
after him and do his chores.

But Yoongi signed up for a partnership. He’s not a maid or a servant and every time Namjoon
leaves his boxers on the floor, his dishes on the coffee table, expects Yoongi to cook a meal, it’s
another needle in Yoongi’s back. It prickles and burns, builds, until it bursts.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” Namjoon says, pecking Yoongi’s temple. “Dinner was great.”

And then he saunters off, leaving Yoongi still sitting at the table, Namjoon’s dishes still at his
place, napkin balled on top of the plate. And it’s too much. “Namjoon,” Yoongi says. His voice is
blank and quiet, but loud enough for Namjoon to hear.

He freezes a few steps away, Yoongi’s tone making him stiffen. Namjoon turns, eyebrows raised
and blinks at Yoongi with confused eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Yoongi gestures to the table, at Namjoon’s place across from him. Plate, glass, silverware, napkin,
crumbs on the wood surface. “Your dishes.”

“Oh.” Namjoon frowns, looking confused. “What about them?”

He can’t be this dim?

“Aren’t you going to clean them up?” Yoongi says carefully, words clipped.

“I can later,” Namjoon replies. “Or, well, I thought you’d maybe just do them with yours?”

Ah. “Excuse me?”

Namjoon shrugs, studying Yoongi as if he doesn’t quite understand why he’s upset. “What?”

“I’m not your servant, Namjoon,” Yoongi grits out. “I’m not your fucking bang maid.”

“What?” Namjoon repeats, voice high with surprise. “I don’t think you’re -”

Yoongi pushes back from the table and stands. “I cook for you, I clean for you, I do your laundry.
You don’t lift a finger to help, you rarely say thank you. Do you even notice?”

“I -” Namjoon breaks off, face falling as he finally understands. “Yoongi, I didn’t ask you to do
any of that.”

“And if I don’t?” Yoongi asks. “Who’s going to do it then?”

Namjoon awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “I guess… maybe I’d get to it?” Yoongi stares at
him, crossing his arms over his chest. Namjoon shifts uncomfortably before continuing. “Ok,
maybe I…”

“Expect me to do it?” Yoongi finishes.

“Maybe,” Namjoon mumbles.

Yoongi stares at him, trying to make sense of his emotions. “Is that why you brought me here? To
clean up after you? You work and study all the time, even when you’re home, and you make
messes for me to clean. If I wasn’t cleaning, would I just be an inconvenience?”

“Yoongi,” Namjoon breathes, voice desperate. He takes a step forward, closing the distance
between them. “Baby, I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that. I want you here because I love
you.”

Objectively, Yoongi knows that. And Namjoon is normally good at showing it. But he hasn’t been
doing a great job of it lately. “I know that I’m not - that I don’t have a lot to offer right now,”
Yoongi says a little wetly. “But you’re taking me for granted.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon responds immediately. “I am. I absolutely am and you don’t deserve that.
You’ve barely been here two months and I’m an asshole.” He takes another step closer. “But at the
same time,” Namjoon continues, voice gentle, “we did talk about this. I’m working full time and I
have my PhD, I have a huge project going on. I can’t contribute as much to cooking and cleaning.
And you did say you’d do more, to contribute. Remember?”

“I remember,” Yoongi agrees. “But it sometimes feels like you don’t try at all, like you just expect
me to do these things.”

“Yoongi, please believe me when I say that I’m not trying to get you to clean for me.”

Yoongi curls in on himself further, shoulders coming up to his ears. “It feels that way, Namjoon,”
he mumbles. “I don’t like feeling like a maid just because I‘m home more.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says earnestly. “I am messy. I am a huge mess and I get distracted and leave
things around. Jimin used to come over and clean for me every week because I literally wouldn’t
have underwear. Yoongi I am just a disaster at managing my own life,” he admits.

“Clearly,” Yoongi snorts. “How can you be so smart yet so disorganized?”

Namjoon smiles slightly, tentatively. He takes another step closer until they’re toe to toe. “Talent?”
He reaches out, taking one of Yoongi’s wrists and tugging at it until Yoongi drops his arms.
Namjoon links their fingers together. “I didn’t bring you here to cook and clean for me and I don’t
expect you to do it. I’ve gotten complacent and I’ve been an asshole.” He gives Yoongi a searching
look. “But Yoongi, you are not worthless or useless, like I know you’re thinking. You are
contributing and you don’t need to feel like you need to pick up after me because you don’t have a
job yet.”

“I don’t -” he cuts off. Okay, he does feel that way sometimes. “I don’t want you to think I’m a
freeloader or something…” Yoongi grumbles.

Namjoon laughs, tugging him a little closer to wrap his arms around his waist. “I absolutely do not
think that. You work harder than anyone I know. Look, I know I’m a messy idiot. Give me a
chance to do better?”

A chance, just like Yoongi needed, needs. “Okay,” he agrees, wrapping his arms around Namjoon
in turn. “You’ll help?”

“I will.” Namjoon lifts a hand to gently stroke Yoongi’s hair. “You need to let me in more, how
long have you been feeling like this?”

“A while,” Yoongi admits. “I didn’t want to upset you, I'm - I’m not good at confrontation.”

Namjoon pulls back to smile softly down at him. “I know, I’m not either. But we have to
communicate and you need to tell me when I’m being an ass. We’re trying together, right?”

Both of them, trying to work on themselves, trying to be better. And Yoongi wants to be better, not
just for Namjoon, but for himself. “Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “Okay.”

“Still love me?” Namjoon asks, blinking wide, innocent eyes.

Yoongi smiles despite himself, rolling his eyes. “A little.”

“We can do better than that,” Namjoon murmurs, leaning down to connect their lips.

Yoongi dodges the kiss and Namjoon huffs, pouting. “Wash your dishes then you can have a kiss.
And more love.”
“Fine.” Namjoon disentangles himself from Yoongi and moves to grab his dishes. “I work very
well on reward systems,” he teases, winking.

“Alright Cassanova, less flirting, more scrubbing.”

After that, it gets a little easier, now that they can communicate. They learn to work together, to
talk instead of argue, and things start to feel bright again.

The sound of the deadbolt is loud in Yoongi’s ears. Licking his lips, he withdraws his key from the
lock and steps back, staring at the closed door. He feels a little ridiculous, standing outside the
apartment by himself, debating if he should just go back inside. His phone buzzes in his pocket and
Yoongi jumps, fishing it out. A text from Namjoon saying he hopes Yoongi is having a good day.
It makes him feel a little stronger. Turning from the door, Yoongi heads for the elevator.

It’s not that he hasn’t left the apartment before, that would be stupid. It’s just - normally he’s with
Namjoon or with Jimin and Taehyung. Or he has a destination in mind, like Jungkook’s apartment.
And he goes to the grocery store with Namjoon, to the bank, the pharmacy. He used to walk
everywhere in Boston, getting out of his apartment to wander.

Why is it so different here?

There’s still a sense of being unsettled, or nervousness in his bones. The apartment has become a
safe haven, curled on the couch surrounded by Namjoon’s plants. He can watch the city from the
windows, play it safe. But playing it safe has never gotten Yoongi anywhere. And being stuck
inside by his own fear is getting him less than nowhere.

Retrieving his phone from his pocket again, he hits Hoseok’s contact and waits for the line to
connect.

“Hey, Yoongs! What’s up?”

Yoongi smiles at his best friend’s voice, the brightness of his tone. “Hey Hoseokie. Nothing much
really.” Hoseok hums and Yoongi can hear the sound of people in the background. “Are you out?”

“Just getting coffee, I can talk. What are you doing?”

Yoongi shuffles his feet, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the lobby. “I, um,
thought I might go get coffee as well.” He shrugs his shoulders, readjusting his messenger bag. “I
have my laptop, thought maybe I’d sit and… yeah.”

“Oh.” Hoseok’s voice is breathy, knowing. “How do you feel?”

“Stupid,” Yoongi says with a snort. “Why am I nervous?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “It’s normal to be nervous in a new place, and this is a lot. Give yourself
a break, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbles, “maybe.” The elevator doors open and Yoongi steps into the lobby.
“There’s a coffee shop a few blocks away I thought I’d go to. And a park across the street from
that, if I felt like, I don’t know, walking around.”

“Want me to stay on the phone?” There’s no teasing, just kindness. Hoseok, understanding and
willing to be there, to hold Yoongi’s hand as well as he can through the phone.
He does want Hoseok to stay on the phone, but he feels a little like he needs to do this himself. “I
think I’m okay.” He’s not sure if he is, but he wants to be. The sun is bright outside the lobby
doors, the day looking clear and perfect. “Maybe I can call you on my way home?”

“Of course,” Hoseok agrees immediately. “You can call me whenever, I’ll be here.”

Yoongi steps toward the lobby doors. “Thanks, Seok. I’m gonna - yeah.”

“You’ve got this,” Hoseok chirps. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Yoongi mumbles, ending the call and stowing his phone again. Licking his lips,
he reaches for the door, pushing it open.

The sunlight bursts across his face, the sounds of the city greeting him. The air smells crisp and
clean, sweet for being in the middle of a city. Yoongi takes a deep breath, filling his lungs, and lets
it out slowly. Some of the tension drains from him as he stands on the sidewalk, glancing around.
A breath of fresh air, literally.

When he sets off down the sidewalk, one hand curled around the strap of his bag, he doesn’t feel so
afraid. And when he sends Hoseok a selfie an hour later, sitting on a bench in the park, the sun
behind him, his smile isn’t forced.

Yoongi’s fingers shake as he taps the little business card against his leg. The phone pressed to his
ear rings, rings again, connects. A cheerful greeting, he licks his lips, forces his tongue to move.

“Hi, um, I’d like to make an appointment for a consultation?”

The receptionist is kind, walking Yoongi easily through the process. They don’t balk when Yoongi
says he doesn’t have insurance, gracefully moving on to scheduling him for an appointment. When
he hangs up, he feels a little wrung out, body tired and heavy. If just making the appointment was
this difficult, how will actually going to it be?

Pushing himself off the bed, Yoongi opens the bedroom door and pads back out to the living room.
Namjoon looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, book balanced on his chest. “Hey,”
he says carefully, searching Yoongi’s face as he comes around the edge of the couch.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, just flops over Namjoon, shimmying over him until he’s blanketing his
boyfriend’s body. Namjoon huffs but doesn’t complain, just drops his book on the floor and wraps
his arms around Yoongi’s back. He smells fresh and clean, the woodsy scent of his cologne filling
Yoongi’s nose as he buries his face in Namjoon’s sweater.

“Mruh,” Yoongi grumbles, inaudible nonsense pressed into Namjoon’s sweater.

A soft chuckle rocks Namjoon’s body, vibrating through Yoongi’s face and chest. “Go okay?”
Namjoon’s hands rub up and down his back, warm through the fabric of Yoongi’s shirt. They press
gently into the muscles of Yoongi’s back, slide up his spine and over his shoulders.

Turning his head, Yoongi rests his cheek on Namjoon’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his
heart. “They were nice. I have an appointment next week.”

“I’m glad,” Namjoon says gently. “You’re very brave, you know?”

“I’m not,” Yoongi huffs, curling his fingers into the soft weave of Namjoon’s sweater, holding him
close. “I’m just…” he trails off. He doesn’t know what he is.

Namjoon shifts slightly, tilting his head so he can meet Yoongi’s eye. Yoongi squeezes his eyes
closed, burying his face back in Namjoon’s sweater. Namjoon huffs but doesn’t scold him.
“Talking to a therapist doesn’t mean you’re crazy or bad.” He pauses. “It’s good to ask for help
when you need it.”

Yoongi knows it is. He’s been trying so hard to be better about it, to ask for help and reassurance
when he needs it. On dark days, days when things feel harder and scarier, he tries not to weather it
alone. Namjoon is there, with gentle words and gentler hands. And maybe it gets easier, maybe the
bad days are a little less frequent. But he owes it to himself to decrease them even more.

“The clinician seems nice,” he says finally. “Her profile on the website is cool.”

Fingers stroke through his hair and Yoongi preens under the touch, melting bonelessly against
Namjoon’s chest. “That’s really good,” Namjoon murmurs. “I hope she’ll be easy to talk to. I had a
hard time opening up with my therapist at first when I used to go. It took me a while to be honest.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbles. He had the same problem, that same anxiety of being too much, not
wanting the therapist to judge him. “I’m going to try not to… you know.”

“Just take it a step at a time,” Namjoon encourages. His nails scratch lightly at Yoongi’s scalp.
“Maybe I’ll call too,” he adds. “We can all use a little help sometimes.”

Yoongi pushes himself up, propping himself on his forearms on Namjoon’s chest. “We can’t have
the same therapist, that’s weird.”

“Why’s it weird?”

Yoongi shrugs as best he can in this position. “I dunno. What if she likes you better?”

Namjoon laughs, crushing Yoongi against his chest in a bear hug. “Impossible, you’re much cuter
and sweeter.” He smiles. “If you want me to talk to someone else, that’s fine. They have other
clinicians there.” Namjoon studies his face for a moment. “I think this is a good first step and I
know we’ve been doing better with communicating but…” he trails off.

“Hm?” Yoongi prompts. He slides his hands up Namjoon’s chest, tracing his fingers slowly up
Namjoon’s cheeks, mapping the curve of his jaw.

“It’s still hard sometimes, you know. This is a lot and… maybe we could think about talking to
someone together? Once we feel settled?”

Namjoon’s brought it up before, couple’s counseling. Yoongi had felt that it was a death sentence,
something only for a doomed relationship. But maybe it could help… give them better ways to
communicate and share, to take care of each other. “Let’s see how individual stuff goes then talk
about it?”

“Of course.” Namjoon slides his hands down Yoongi’s back, cupping his waist. “Thank you for
being open to this.”

Things have been better, easier. Happier. Yoongi doesn’t respond, just smiles softly, squeezing
Namjoon’s cheeks. When Namjoon leans in for a kiss, Yoongi meets him halfway, some of the
exhaustion seeping out of him at the first touch of their lips.

⟿
”Don’t be mad at me.”

Yoongi looks up, blinking owlishly from behind his glasses at Namjoon standing sheepishly in the
doorway. Yoongi sits back on the couch, sliding his guitar off his thigh. “This is ominous.”

Namjoon shuffles his feet before stepping into the room. He has an envelope held at his side,
fingers creasing the paper.

“Uh,” Yoongi begins, eyes flicking from the envelope to Namjoon’s face. He’s chewing his lip,
looking guilty and uncomfortable. “Did someone die?”

“You know how I get distracted, or like… caught up in things?”

Yoongi cocks an eyebrow. “I am intimately acquainted with this fact.”

Namjoon frowns but then his expression slips again, brow furrowing. “Okay, well, I was opening
my mail and I wasn’t really paying attention and I accidentally…” he trails off.

“Mail tampering is a felony, Namjoon Kim,” Yoongi scolds, half teasing. Namjoon doesn’t smile.
“Okay, you’re kind of scaring me. Did someone die?”

“No, shit, okay. I just -” he cuts off and steps further into the room. He stops in front of Yoongi and
offers the envelope. “I started reading, I’m sorry. I honestly thought it was for me, I wasn’t trying
to snoop.”

Taking the envelope from Namjoon’s fingers, Yoongi turns it over. Oh. It’s from his loan
company. He glances up at Namjoon. “You read it?”

“Not all of it, but…”

“Right,” Yoongi pulls the letter from the envelope. He already knows what it says. He’s delinquent
on his student loans, he is very aware of that.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon says gently, “I’m not trying to push, but why didn’t you tell me?”

Yoongi shrugs, flipping open the letter to scan the page. The number in bold black ink makes his
brain hurt. “It’s not your problem, it’s mine.”

“Babe, we said we wouldn’t do that anymore. Open, honest.” He sinks onto the couch beside him,
a few inches separating them. “Partners.”

“I was embarrassed,” Yoongi mumbles. “Bills pile up and I… sometimes I prioritize and things get
missed or… skipped.”

Namjoon nods, scooting just a bit closer. Yoongi can feel his warmth, he moves towards it, closing
the distance between them. Namjoon takes the invitation, sliding his arm around Yoongi’s
shoulders. “Can I help you?”

Glancing up sharply, Yoongi studies Namjoon’s face. Open and honest, hopeful. “Namjoon,”
Yoongi begins carefully, “I do not want you to pay off my debts for me.” They’ve had
conversations like this so many times, too many times. They’ve lessened, as Namjoon has gotten
better about not pushing, about not trying to fix.

Namjoon blanches, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry, I just -” he runs his free hand through his
hair and blows out a breath. “What if we budget together? I have student loan debt too, expenses
and stuff. We could work out budgets together and figure out repayment stuff.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says softly, feeling a little better. Namjoon is trying and Yoongi appreciates it. He
snuggles a little into his side, feeling Namjoon relax against him. “Yeah, maybe that would be a
good idea.”

“I see a financial planner.” Namjoon strokes Yoongi’s arm through the fabric of his hoodie. “My
parents suggested it after I graduated with my Master’s. Just something to help with consolidating
everything and working out payment plans, future plans.”

Yoongi nods along, curling closer into Namjoon’s lap. “That’s cool,” he mumbles.

“You could maybe see him too?” Namjoon offers. “You could just do a consult. He’s a family
friend, no pressure just… for some advice? I know we’ve talked about you going back to school,
this would be a good first step.”

Normally Yoongi would say no, the Yoongi of a few months ago would definitely say no. Refusing
to accept help, something handed to him. But he can see the wisdom in this, see that it’s a good
idea and a kind, generous offer. And Namjoon is not overstepping, he is offering a compromise.
Yoongi can compromise, he’s gotten better at it. He’s been working on it, and advocating for his
needs. And maybe this is something he needs. Yoongi does want to go back to school. “Would you
go with me?”

“Of course I would,” Namjoon says. Yoongi can hear the smile in his voice even curled into his
chest. Namjoon dips a little to brush his lips over Yoongi’s hair. “I can call tomorrow. Okay?”

“I’ll call,” Yoongi says immediately. A prospect that might have terrified the same Yoongi of a
few months ago. “I can do it.”

Namjoon squeezes him a little tighter. “Okay, babe. I’ll leave the number for you.” A pause. “I
really am sorry for opening your mail.”

“It’s alright, I know it was an accident.” He pulls himself from the comfort of Namjoon’s chest,
smiling softly up at him. “Thank you for trying to help.”

“Of course.” Namjoon beams at him then nods down at his guitar. “What were you working on?”

“Ah.” Yoongi picks up his guitar, settling the worn instrument back on his lap. “Something new,
wanna hear?”

“Always.”

Yoongi’s had a lot of job interviews, especially lately. Some have gone reasonably well, some
extremely poorly. But none have gone as badly as this last one. He hadn’t particularly wanted the
job, but it had sounded alright, the pay decent. Front desk at a hotel, answering the phone, dealing
with people. Maybe more social interaction than he really wanted, but Yoongi could manage it.

He had prepped for the interview, going over questions with a patient Namjoon at the kitchen
table. Yoongi took time to remove the lime green polish Jungkook had put on his nails, styled his
hair in the mirror and practiced smiling. His clothes were neat and ironed, Namjoon cooing over
him as he straightened Yoongi’s shirt collar. But it seemed like a joke, he felt like a joke.

The interviewer took one look at his bleached hair, at the rows of rings and studs in his ears and his
face immediately closed up. The interviewer practically sneered at every answer, jotting notes on
his paper and barely concealing his scorn. Yoongi became more and more tongue tied, more and
more flustered. It was mortifying, feeling almost like a torture session. By the time it ended,
Yoongi was halfway to tears and the man didn’t even try to shake his hand, looking down his nose
at Yoongi and saying they’d call him.

Doubtful.

It shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. Yoongi’s had multiple unsuccessful interviews, he
gets it. The rejection sucks but there are a lot of applicants and he’s not very special. But he’s
never felt ridicule like this, blatant rudeness. It’s disheartening, threatening to break something
inside him.

Namjoon is waiting when Yoongi gets home, poised with his watering can over one of the plants
by the window. “Babe!” he calls, turning with a smile. “How did it -” he breaks off, smile
immediately falling when he sees Yoongi’s expression. “Yoon?”

A sob claws its way up Yoongi’s throat, his eyes welling with tears. “Joonie, I -” he doesn’t
manage to get the words out, voice breaking on a broken whimper.

Namjoon is across the room in seconds, watering can discarded as he sweeps to the door. He
gathers Yoongi into his arms, pulling him against his chest and wrapping him up tightly. “Baby,
baby what happened?”

It’s all Yoongi needs to fully break. He slumps in Namjoon’s arms, clinging to the front of
Namjoon’s sweater as the tears come. He tries to rein them in, but he just ends up crying harder.
Namjoon is stroking his hair, mumbling soft, reassuring words as he awkwardly walks them back
toward the couch.

Yoongi allows himself to be moved, not fighting when Namjoon sinks onto the couch, pulling
Yoongi into his lap. “Yoongi, baby, what happened?” He’s holding Yoongi against his chest,
stroking his hair as Yoongi cries into his neck.

He feels ridiculous, unable to get ahold of himself. This is the first time he’s really broken down
since getting to Colorado. It’s been almost three months and Yoongi has held it together. No matter
how hard things are sometimes, he’s been pushing through. He’s been trying. Putting in
applications, seeing his therapist, getting his shit as together as it can. But none of that matters, not
when he’s practically laughed out of a job interview.

It’s scary, scary to not be able to control it, to not be able to pull himself back. And he’s scared
Namjoon will be frightened off. He hasn’t seen Yoongi cry like this, pain and hurt and mess, since
his breakdown at the eclipse. But now it’s happening again, great heaving sobs and clutching
hands as he scatters apart. Namjoon will think it’s too much, think Yoongi is too much.

The thought only makes him cry harder. That Namjoon might finally see the worst of him, the
most broken pieces and have enough. He’ll leave, or ask Yoongi to leave. Would Namjoon run,
when he sees how bad it really is, how bad it can be?

Yoongi waits for it, like waiting for a hammer to fall, the guillotine to land. But it doesn’t come,
nothing like it does.

Namjoon only strokes his back, cards fingers through his hair, whispers love and reassurance.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon says softly, gently, when Yoongi’s sobs fade to whimpers, his tears slow,
“I’ve got you. I’m right here, it’s okay.” And it sounds like a promise.
Yoongi whimpers, clutching Namjoon’s back through his sweater. “I -” his voice breaks.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon soothes. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.”

And maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t going anywhere. It hits Yoongi then, suddenly, knocking the
breath from his chest. Namjoon is not going anywhere, Namjoon wants this just as much as he
does. Yoongi knew that, of course he did, but maybe he didn’t fully accept it. But Namjoon is
holding him tight, pressing kisses to his temple between soft, loving promises. Namjoon is here.

It takes a while, in fits and starts, for Yoongi to recount his experience. Namjoon is furious,
immediately threatening to beat the guy up, egg his house, key his car. “I’ll tell Jimin, he’ll go
nuts. Last time something like this happened he flooded the page of this restaurant with really bad
reviews. I think he has like thirty email addresses just for things like this.”

Yoongi giggles, wet and messy, pulling back from Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon immediately brings
his hands to Yoongi’s tear stained face. He thumbs at his cheeks, wiping away tears and smiling
gently, encouragingly. “He’s scary when he’s mad.”

“You have no idea,” Namjoon agrees. He leans in, pressing the softest kiss to Yoongi’s bitten lips.
“Don’t let that prick get to you, you are perfect. That job was shit anyway.”

Yoongi curls in on himself a little, shrugging. “Yeah, maybe.”

“We’ll find you something better,” Namjoon insists. “I know we will. I’ll help.” Yoongi nods,
muttering a quiet thank you. Namjoon kisses his forehead, lips lingering on his skin. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers back, melting into Namjoon’s embrace.

Hours later, they’re in bed together, sweaty bodies intertwined beneath the covers as they regain
their breath. Yoongi nuzzles into Namjoon’s neck, sighing in contentment. “Joonie?”

Namjoon hums in acknowledgement, fingertips of one hand sweeping up and down Yoongi’s bare
back. Outside the window, snow has begun to fall, glittering in the city lights. Yoongi watches it
for a few moments before refocusing.

“When are your parents coming?”

There’s a beat of silence, two. Namjoon shifts a little, lifting on one elbow so he can look down at
Yoongi in the dim glow of the city lights. “In a couple weeks, why?”

Yoongi still hasn’t given Namjoon an answer, even though over a month has passed. Namjoon
hasn’t pestered him about it but he’s mentioned it a few times, his parents coming for a visit.
Especially as the holidays loomed ever closer, Yoongi felt the pressure. He should have made the
decision weeks ago, but somehow he was still holding back. That fear, that little kernel of doubt
that maybe Namjoon didn’t really want this.

But it’s lessened, quieted. It’s not gone, not fully, but Yoongi feels the security and warmth of
Namjoon around him. A security blanket wrapping him up, keeping him safe. And maybe it’s time
to take those next steps, to let himself give a little more.

“I think…” Yoongi begins, fingertips tracing over Namjoon’s bare chest. He glances up, peering at
Namjoon from under his lashes. “I think I’d like to meet them.”

“You -” Namjoon breaks off, blinking in surprise. “You want to meet my parents?”
 “Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. “I’d like to.” He sounds a little more sure this time, he is sure. “If you still
want me to.”

Namjoon smiles, eyes nearly squeezing closed as he grins. His face transforms, becoming sweet
and boyish, that smile Yoongi treasures, deep dimples and the crease of his cheeks. “I’d love that,
so, so much.”

“Okay.” Yoongi smiles back. “Let's do it.” Yoongi doesn’t just mean meeting Namjoon’s parents.

He seems to understand, the hand on Yoongi’s back sliding up and over his arm, moving to cradle
his jaw. “You and me, baby.” He smiles again, leaning in to pull Yoongi into a kiss, sweet and
warm and full of all the promises Yoongi is finally ready to make.

It works, this thing they're doing. It works in honesty and communication. In tenderness and
understanding through even the toughest moments. In late nights cuddled on the couch, a movie
playing that they barely watch. In YouTube videos and cooking meals side by side, in taking time
to appreciate the small moments together. It’s hard but things are falling together, they’re learning
to live together and what each other needs. It’s hard but Yoongi wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As the seasons change, summer fading to autumn, autumn giving way to winter’s chill, it works.
He got his fresh start, his second chance, and he’s grateful. He’s found his great love and he’ll
never let it go.

Chapter End Notes

Come say hello on Twitter!

Can you believe this story is almost over? Just the epilogue and then this is complete.
Thank you for reading, I truly loved writing this adventure.
 Chapter 11
Chapter Summary

An epilogue

Chapter Notes

Wow! This is it folks, the end of the ride! Or, maybe it's just the beginning.

Thank you so much for reading, I had a lot of fun writing this adventure so I hope you
enjoyed reading it. Please make sure to listen to West to close out this journey. I
looked at my notes and I started conceptualizing this story all the way back in January
of 2020, I'm so happy I was able to put it out into the world and I'm so happy with
what it turned out to be. <3

Thank you as always to Sumi, I couldn't have done this without you.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Do you think it’s been a good year? Overall?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair, palms sliding over his thighs. His nails, painted with chipping black
polish, are neat, cuticles healthy and unchewed. “Overall?” he repeats, considering. “Yeah.” He
looks up, nods. “I think it has.”

“You’ve come a long way," his therapist says, leaning forward. “You should feel proud of that.”

Does he? Maybe. Though pride isn’t the right word. But happy… maybe happy is the right word.
A contentment settling into his bones, rich and warm as mulled wine. It’s been over a year now
since he came to Colorado, since he took the chance to start over. Yoongi won’t lie to himself and
say it hasn’t been hard. It has, definitely. But, for all the tough times, it’s been worth it.

His eyes shift to the window, watching the snow swirling on the wind. It looks cold out, is cold
out, but Yoongi is warm. “I feel good,” he says finally, gaze still fixed on the glass.

He does, finally, for the first time in a long time. Good like he hasn’t felt in years, like he hadn’t
expected to ever feel again.

“Things are good.”

The cold hits Yoongi as he steps outside, shocking after the warmth of the office. It’s late morning
but the winter chill is already biting, wind tugging at his hair and coat. He shoves his new
appointment card into his pocket and pulls his beanie over his head, tugging it down past his ears.

The sidewalk is busy for eleven on a Thursday, small groups and individuals hurrying with their
heads tucked down. Yoongi dives into the crowd, joining the current as he heads for work.
Thankfully the walk isn’t very long, the resource center is just a few blocks from the record store.

He’s been there almost a full year now too, at the dimly lit record store tucked between an antique
shop and a bakery. He had stumbled onto the job, almost literally. He had come from another job
interview and noticed the sign advertising a sale on headphones, ducking inside to escape the cold.
It was a treasure trove, crates of neatly arranged vinyl, rows of CDs and cassettes, instruments and
posters on the walls. Yoongi fell in love with the shop at first glance.

It was quiet, just a few other patrons flipping leisurely through the contents of the crates. The
owner, Doug, approached him as Yoongi peered at a rack of headphones, mentally calculating
costs for Christmas presents. Doug asked if he needed help, a conversation was struck and forty
minutes later Yoongi left with a brand new job.

Maybe it was fate, serendipity of some sort, that one of Doug’s few employees had just quit to
follow some band across the country. Fate that Yoongi had wandered in, that he’d randomly
mentioned he was coming from an interview.

A year later, Yoongi has been promoted to assistant manager, not that Doug needs an assistant
manager. But it feels good, to be appreciated and recognized, to have a job that he enjoys going to.
It’s still not exactly what Yoongi wants to be doing, but it’s opening doors towards those dreams.

Yoongi’s been taking classes, mostly part time, in a Music Audio Tech program at the nearby
community college. It’s interesting, and a step in a direction he wants to take. When he graduates,
he’ll have a Sound Engineering Certificate and an actual degree.

And Doug has connections. Connections he is eager to use to help Yoongi achieve his dreams, to
help him find an internship during his next semester at a real studio, working with real producers.
Things feel like they’re falling together, finally looking up. Long overdue maybe, now that Yoongi
can feel a little like he deserves it.

It’s good. He likes these things, likes how they fill his schedule but leave him time for everything
else. The most important things. For still giving Jungkook piano lessons, though he hardly needs
them anymore. For his own music and YouTube videos. And for Namjoon.

Precious moments spent with Namjoon, as they mesh more firmly together. It feels right, as their
lives fully intertwine and Yoongi settles into his new home. Home in Denver. Home in Namjoon.

It’s colder by the time Yoongi leaves work, the sun setting and temperature dropping as evening
settles over the city. He should be used to the cold, from living in Boston, but it’s a different kind
of cold from the Boston chill off the water. His teeth begin to chatter immediately as he steps
outside. Yoongi tucks his chin into his scarf, burying his nose in the soft wool. The streets are still
busy, people hurrying to and fro with shopping bags and packages. Couples arm in arm, walking
close together as they admire the lights, families with steaming cups of hot chocolate, kids bundled
in puffy coats.

The city is lit up for Christmas, fairy lights twinkling around him as he walks, winking and flashing
in the snow. Seokjin and Hoseok will love it, love the city and the lights. Yoongi hasn’t seen his
best friends since he left Boston over a year ago. It’s kind of funny, how now that he has Namjoon
in person, he has another relationship of phone and facetime calls. Hoseok and Seokjin through a
screen is not enough, just like it wasn’t enough with Namjoon.
But in just a few days, barely even a week, they’ll be coming to visit for the first time. Yoongi’s
been counting the days, planning activities and outings and introductions. He can’t wait to have
everyone together, his oldest friends and his newest friends. His family.

Yoongi smiles into his scarf, feeling warm despite the chill. He pauses at a stoplight, waiting for
the light to change so he can cross. Only a few more blocks and he’ll be home. There’s an itch
under his skin, one he always feels when he’s been out all day and he’s nearly back at the
apartment.

He knows Namjoon will be there waiting for him to get home, ready with a hug and a kiss, a bright
smile just for him. Something Yoongi looks forward to every day, sinking into Namjoon’s arms,
coming home.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, Yoongi slips his headphones over his ears, fumbling with his
phone to turn on his music. Tapping shuffle on his playlist he nearly trips, stumbling a little as the
song starts. He smiles to himself, sliding his hands back into his pockets as West begins to play.

Namjoon is in the kitchen when Yoongi gets home, humming along to a Mountain Goats record as
he leans over the stove. The music is loud enough that he doesn’t hear the door open or Yoongi
kicking off his snowy boots in the entryway. Yoongi is able to sneak to the kitchen doorway,
watching Namjoon shimmy along to Dance Music.

He wiggles like a noodle as he hums along, stirring something that smells surprisingly delicious.
Namjoon cooking has become less of a rarity, and he’s even improved, but it’s still a surprise. A
nice surprise.

Namjoon spins towards the counter and freezes, eyes widening as he takes in Yoongi leaning in the
doorway. He’s wearing one of Yoongi’s favorite sweaters, a soft gray that Yoongi knows feels
downy soft beneath his fingers, his cheeks. “Babe!” Namjoon gasps, clutching his chest. “You
scared me!”

“I called out when I got home,” Yoongi says, stepping forward to close the distance between them.
He had called out, just not very loudly.

They meet halfway, in the middle of the kitchen. Smiles stretch on both of their faces and Namjoon
leans down, pressing their lips together. “Good day?”

Yoongi nods, looping his arms around Namjoon’s waist to give him a quick, firm squeeze. “Yeah.”
He rests his cheek on Namjoon’s chest, the sweater is as blissfully soft as he remembered. “Missed
you though.” Being honest about his feelings is something Yoongi’s been working on. He just saw
Namjoon this morning, kissed him goodbye at the door with coffee breath and four or five
iterations of Namjoon whispering one more kiss against his lips. But it’s not embarrassing to miss
your boyfriend when you’re apart, it’s not weird or strange and Yoongi has accepted that.

“Missed you too.” Namjoon hugs him back. “I always worry when you have to close the shop, I
don’t like you walking home when it’s dark.”

Snorting, Yoongi leans back to take Namjoon in. “I am a grown man,” he argues. “I can take care
of myself.”

Sometimes Namjoon will meet him though, waiting outside the shop door and greeting Yoongi
with a bright smile. Looping their arms together and kissing him, quick and sweet, to walk him
home. A mixture of needing to see him and weird safety-mindedness or some nonsense. Yoongi
pretends to hate it, just to see the way Namjoon pouts.

“Someone could scoop my tiny boyfriend up and carry him away,” Namjoon teases, rocking them
side to side with the music. “Can’t let that happen.”

“Maybe I should get a new pocketknife,” Yoongi muses. “Can’t believe you broke my old one.”

Namjoon huffs, letting Yoongi go with one more squeeze. “Excuse you,” he sniffs, “you’re the one
who massacred a tree with your tiny Hello Kitty knife. It was your weird romantic idea.”

“You loved it,” Yoongi snips, sticking out his tongue and kicking Namjoon lightly in the shin.

“I did,” he confirms with a grin. “You’re a sappy romantic at heart.” Yoongi scowls and Namjoon
laughs. “You’ll admit it someday, can’t hide behind your grumpy shell forever, baby.”

Fighting down a blush, Yoongi steps to the stove. It’s ridiculous how Namjoon still affects him,
still blushes and butterflies, warmth from nose to toes. “Whatcha making?”

“Alfredo,” Namjoon says as he comes up next to him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s not from a jar!”

“I’m impressed,” Yoongi says with a low whistle. “Smells delicious. Can I help?”

Namjoon smiles and nods. “Finish up the garlic bread? And if you want salad, I started chopping
the lettuce…” he trails off, nodding to a thoroughly mangled head of lettuce on the counter by the
sink.

“You definitely started something,” Yoongi observes. “I’ll help.”

They fall into companionable quiet, the music still playing from the speakers in the other room.
Conversation ebbs and flows naturally, asking after each other’s days and talking about upcoming
plans. It’s comfortable, moving around each other easily like a choreographed dance as they
prepare dinner together. Yoongi loves these quiet moments, savors and treasures them for the
golden, shiny quality they hold.

“This is really good,” Yoongi says around a mouthful of pasta a little while later.

Namjoon huffs at him, twirling his fork in his own spaghetti. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can
cook, you know.”

“I know you can, babe,” Yoongi coos. “You did a great job, my Top Chef.”

“You’re so patronizing,” Namjoon grumbles, but Yoongi can see the hint of his smile as he ducks
his head.

Dinner is a relatively quiet affair, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence between them
with conversation. When they finish, they bring their dishes into the kitchen and Namjoon starts
boxing up leftovers while Yoongi goes to change.

“Movie?” Namjoon calls before Yoongi can get too far down the hall.

“Sure, something Christmasy,” Yoongi calls over his shoulder.

When he returns to the living room, Namjoon is already on the couch, one arm draped over the
back as he uses the other hand to fiddle with the remote. Yoongi sinks onto the couch in front of
Namjoon’s outstretched arm, pleased when Namjoon immediately curls it around his shoulders.
“What are we watching?”

“Jimin was gushing about this one on that Hallmark movie channel, he said it was really good. I
think it’s playing again tonight.”

Yoongi hums, leaning into Namjoon’s side and curling his legs up onto the couch. “Jimin said a
Hallmark movie was good?”

“Maybe he was really blazed,” Namjoon suggests. “Wanna try it?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t care what they put on, Yoongi just wants to be close to Namjoon. In their living
room while snow falls outside, the lights from their Christmas tree twinkling behind them,
reflecting in the tall windows.

The movie is, as expected, not very good. A contrived premise, over the top acting, and plot holes
galore. “Wait,” Yoongi says, squinting at the screen, “is he a ghost?”

“Fuck,” Namjoon mutters, “I thought he was, like, a Christmas vampire or something.”

“Why the fuck do people enjoy these kind of movies? Is this a requirement for being a
heterosexual?”

“Probably,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “A lifetime subscription to the Hallmark channel and a
hundred episodes of House Hunters in the DVR.”

“I like House Hunters,” Yoongi huffs, snuggling closer against Namjoon’s side.

Namjoon just laughs softly, stroking his hand up and down Yoongi’s arm. “I have a better idea of
how we can spend our time,” Namjoon says softly, nosing at Yoongi’s temple.

“Oh?” Yoongi prompts, voice innocently puzzled. A familiar heat stokes to life in his belly at
Namjoon’s words, at the feeling of his lips against Yoongi’s ear.

All it takes is a squeeze of Yoongi’s arm, and Yoongi is turning his head, finding Namjoon’s lips
already waiting for him. Their lips click together, soft and chaste. Yoongi shifts, turning his body
towards Namjoon to kiss him more easily. Namjoon brings his free hand to Yoongi’s jaw, his other
arm pulling Yoongi closer against him. His fingers slide over Yoongi’s skin, tilting his head and
thumbing at his cheekbone as he deepens the kiss.

It’s so easy to fall into it, to melt into Namjoon’s touch, the feeling of his lips. The movie is quickly
forgotten, just a buzz of background noise as the sound of their mouths moving together, lips and
tongues slick and wet, overtakes it.

Namjoon breaks the kiss only to move his hands to Yoongi’s hips, lifting and pulling until he can
settle Yoongi in his lap. Yoongi blinks down at him with hooded eyes, taking in Namjoon’s
flushed cheeks, his lips already reddening and swelling. He loops his arms around Namjoon’s
neck, settling comfortably astride his thighs.

Hands skate up Yoongi’s sides, fingertips tickling along his ribs beneath his sweater. “So pale,”
Namjoon murmurs, leaning in to lick and suck at Yoongi’s neck. “So pretty.” A nip against
Yoongi’s collarbone. “My very own Christmas vampire.”

Yoongi laughs, squirming in Namjoon’s lap as he giggles. But Namjoon doesn’t let him go
anywhere, sliding his hands to Yoongi’s back and pulling him in by his shoulder blades. Their lips
meet again, wetter, messier, hungrier. Namjoon laps at his bottom lip, nibbles at his lips and licks
into Yoongi’s mouth in ways that he knows drive Yoongi wild. Riling him up, making his squirm
and wiggle on Namjoon’s lap, cock filling out in his sweats as Namjoon’s fingers tap down his
spine like the keys of a piano.

“Take this off,” Namjoon mumbles against his lips, tugging at Yoongi’s sweater.

Yoongi leans back, lifting his arms and allowing Namjoon to pull his sweater over his head.
Yoongi does the same to Namjoon, digging his fingers into that soft gray cashmere to lift it over
his head. Golden tanned skin is revealed, toned but soft, just as mouthwatering as the first time
Yoongi saw him.

“You’re drooling,” Namjoon teases, running his hands up and down Yoongi’s sides. “Gonna eat
me?”

Yoongi huffs, rolling his eyes. “Maybe,” he murmurs, ducking down to nip at Namjoon’s jaw. “If
you’re lucky.”

Namjoon laughs, then pauses. “Wait… in a sexy way or -”

“Namjoon, sexy Christmas vampires do not eat people. That would be zombies or like… I don’t
know.” Yoongi pulls back to stare down at him. “What the fuck are we talking about?”

“I have no idea, but I’m pretty sure you’re trying to get me into vampire roleplay.” His thumbs
brush over Yoongi’s nipples, making him shudder. “I am definitely down, Dracula.”

Yoongi slumps against him, groaning. “You’re the worst.”

“So no vampire roleplay?” Namjoon laughs, dusting Yoongi’s neck with kisses.

“No vampire roleplay,” Yoongi agrees. “Tonight.”

Namjoon pulls back, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? Mr. Min, you want to get kinky with me?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Yoongi huffs, turning his head to try to capture Namjoon’s roaming lips.

Namjoon obliges, tilting his head back to join their lips again. The heat returns, bubbling in
Yoongi’s veins, building low in his belly. Their hands roam, Yoongi’s tangling in Namjoon’s hair
as Namjoon’s sweep lower. Yoongi arches, moaning softly as Namjoon’s hands skate over his ass,
squeeze. His cock is already hard in his sweats, straining against his briefs. When Namjoon pulls
him closer by his ass, he can tell Namjoon is not unaffected, their erections brushing through their
clothes.

They moan in tandem, Namjoon using his grip on Yoongi’s backside to move him on his lap,
providing them both with friction. Yoongi rolls his hips in time with Namjoon’s movements, the
two of them gasping, tongues tangling messily, uncoordinated, between their mouths.

Taking their pants off is a little bit more of a struggle than shirts. Namjoon doesn’t want to let
Yoongi off his lap, trying to keep him close as he strips him of his sweats and briefs. Yoongi
nearly tumbles backwards, inches from braining himself on the coffee table.

“We could just go to bed,” Yoongi huffs, fingernails digging into Namjoon’s shoulders as he tries
to right himself.

“Nuh uh,” Namjoon insists, finally tugging Yoongi’s pants and briefs over his ankles. “Want you
here.” He looks up, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, all blown pupils and heavy lids. “You look so
beautiful in the Christmas lights.”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi whines, curling in on himself. A flush rises up his chest, heating his skin and
gusting him in pink. The Christmas lights dance in Namjoon’s eyes as he smiles, soft and fond.

Namjoon clicks his tongue, cupping Yoongi’s jaw when he tries to turn his head away. “My
beautiful boyfriend.” He pecks his lips. “Maybe you are a vampire, shining in the light just like
Edward in Twilight.”

“Namjoon, I will fucking -” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, words cut off by a moan as
Namjoon presses a slick finger against his rim. He didn’t even see him grab the lube, too distracted
by Namjoon’s rambling. He falls forward, burying his face in Namjoon’s neck as the finger slides
easily into him.

“Sorry,” Namjoon murmurs, nuzzling into Yoongi’s hair as he begins to pump his finger in and
out. “That was too weird.”

“Make it up to me,” Yoongi rasps against his neck, rolling his hips to force Namjoon’s finger
further inside him.

Namjoon pushes a second finger past his rim and Yoongi gasps, spine bowing. “Of course, baby.”

Yoongi lifts his face from Namjoon’s neck to kiss him again. His hands slide into Namjoon’s hair,
tilting and directing his head as their lips smack together, tongues tangling. Namjoon’s fingers
thrust into him, scissoring and stroking along his walls. Yoongi’s head spins from pleasure, body
feeling hot, electric.

The third finger has Yoongi hissing, breaking the kiss to pant wetly against Namjoon’s mouth. The
stretch aches in the best way, his rim giving under the pressure of three of Namjoon’s fingers
sliding into him. Soft, slightly callused, pads stroke over his walls, shifting and crooking and -
Yoongi cries out, a jolt of electric current zipping up his spine as Namjoon finds his prostate.

“So pretty,” Namjoon praises, attaching his lips to Yoongi’s neck. “Make the prettiest sounds.” He
nips and licks along Yoongi’s throat, leaving a stinging trail along his skin. “Maybe we should
record you for a new song,” Namjoon whispers, his breath on Yoongi’s skin making him squirm.
“Put it up on YouTube, Soundcloud,” he continues, tugging on Yoongi’s earlobe. “Have everyone
hear how pretty you sound when I make you feel good.”

“Ah,” Yoongi gasps, head thrown back as Namjoon’s fingers massage his prostate. He’s hot, so
hot, body lit up with fire, bright as the Christmas tree. “Joonie,” he whines.

“I’ve got you,” Namjoon coos, slowly sliding his fingers from Yoongi’s slick hole. Yoongi fights
the urge to whine, clenching around nothing. “Turn around?” Namjoon asks, squeezing Yoongi’s
hips.

Yoongi frowns, cocking his head. “Why?”

“Just wanna…” Namjoon trails off, helping Yoongi shift on his lap. “Like this.” He pulls Yoongi
against his chest, molding them together. “Just… yeah.” The last word is breathy, ending on a
moan as Namjoon presses his cock to Yoongi’s entrance, pulling Yoongi down over him.

Yoongi gasps at the intrusion, head falling back against Namjoon’s shoulder as Namjoon sheaths
himself fully. Their bodies meet, Namjoon wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s middle to hold him
close. Soft lips press to Yoongi’s skin, a nose nuzzles into his neck. “Okay?” Namjoon whispers,
breath tickling Yoongi’s ear.
Nodding, Yoongi swivels his hips, feeling Namjoon’s cock shift inside of him. “Feels good.” He
spreads his thighs wider, hooking his ankles around Namjoon’s calves as he arches his back.
Namjoon’s cock presses into his prostate as they grind together.

Rolling his hips, Namjoon thrusts tentatively up into Yoongi’s body. Yoongi moans, head lolling
on Namjoon’s shoulder. His arms fly up, hands curling around Namjoon’s wrists around his torso,
fingers digging into Namjoon’s skin.

It feels so good, amazing to be connected like this. It’s not new, not rare, but every time is just as
good as the first, maybe better. Namjoon filling him, making him feel complete, loved, cherished.
In Namjoon’s strong arms, pressed against his firm chest, Yoongi feels truly at home. Nothing
compares to this, when their bodies can connect and they can find bliss together.

They both know just how to move, knowing exactly what the other needs. Through careful
practice, instinct and care, mapping the pleasurable spots, tiny tells, desperate moans. No matter
what they do, no matter if Namjoon has Yoongi pressed against the wall or Yoongi has Namjoon
bent over the couch in the studio. Any connection is perfect, bliss, euphoric.

Yoongi moans, loud and unabashed as Namjoon fucks up into him, cock dragging along Yoongi’s
walls. They can’t move all that much in this position, Namjoon bracing his feet on the floor and
holding Yoongi tight. But it’s enough, enough to have Yoongi’s mind filling with static, heat
burning through his body.

Namjoon’s lips are on his neck, soft kisses and stinging nibbles, mouth sucking bruises into
Yoongi’s skin. Breathless whispers, love and affection, filthy promises and the softest words in
tandem, pressed into Yoongi’s flesh.

Then he shifts, moving and lifting Yoongi off his cock and off his lap. Yoongi whines, about to
protest, but he’s being jostled around before he can. His back hits the couch and suddenly
Namjoon is above him, pressing Yoongi’s knee to his chest as he enters him again.

From this angle, Yoongi can see him. He can see Namjoon’s messy dark blonde bangs plastered to
his forehead, see the way his hair sticks up from Yoongi’s hands running through it. He can see
Namjoon’s swollen, kiss-bitten lips, his flushed cheeks and his eyes. Those eyes, pupils blown and
filled with lust. But beneath it, the love. The fondness and care and desire, drowning Yoongi in
their bottomless depth.

He’s jostled up the couch with every deep, dragging thrust, unable to hold in the gasps and moans
that are punched from his chest. Heat is pooling in his belly, a spring coiling tight with every roll of
Namjoon’s hips. And Namjoon is close, Yoongi can tell, his body trembling, hips twitching at the
top of every thrust. His cock is hard and hot inside him, and Yoongi is desperate for more, for
anything, everything.

Lifting his shaking arms, Yoongi grabs Namjoon by the back of the neck. He drags him down,
folding Namjoon over his body to connect their mouths. Their lips meet in a messy kiss, breaths
mingling, as the pleasure crescendos and crashes over them, bringing them over the edge together.

After they clean up, Namjoon insists on special pajamas for the night. Yoongi gives in probably
too easily, allowing Namjoon to talk (and kiss) him into the matching pajama sets his parents sent
them. Namjoon’s are blue with little polar bears, Yoongi’s red with little Scottie dogs. They’re cute
and ridiculous and Yoongi refuses to admit he loves them.
 They curl up together beneath the blankets, gravitating immediately into one another’s arms.
Namjoon rolls onto his back, dragging Yoongi against his side to lay half on his chest. Yoongi
sighs, closing his eyes as he nestles against the soft cotton of his shirt.

“I was thinking...” Namjoon says softly, fingers carding through Yoongi’s hair.

“You do tend to do that,” Yoongi mumbles, tilting his head into the touch.

Namjoon snorts but doesn’t seem deterred. “Maybe we should take another road trip sometime,
baby.”

“Oh?” Yoongi prompts. “You want to spend multiple days in a car with me again?”

“Of course I do,” Namjoon laughs. “I know it was rough, but I loved it.”

Yoongi smiles against Namjoon’s shirt. “I did too,” he admits. They’re quiet for a few moments,
Namjoon’s fingers gently stroking Yoongi’s hair. “Where do you want to go?”

“Ah.” Namjoon hums and Yoongi can feel his smile against his hair when he ducks his head. “It’s
only eleven hours to Vegas.”

Propping himself on one elbow, Yoongi shifts to stare down at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
“Why would we go to Vegas? You don’t like gambling or any of that.”

Namjoon grins shyly up at him, dimples popping. He plays with Yoongi’s fingers for a moment
before speaking. “I just thought maybe we could drive there and… you know.”

“I don’t think I do know,” Yoongi replies, trying to make sense of Namjoon’s words.

Namjoon just continues to smile. “How would you feel about having Elvis marry you?”

“Me? Marry Elvis?”

Namjoon laughs, pulling Yoongi down to lay on top of him. They’re nose to nose, Namjoon
smiling that bright, toothy smile. “Elvis marry us.”

“Oh.” Yoongi blinks. “Oh?” He blinks again, brain finally catching up. “Oh!”

Namjoon laughs and Yoongi grabs him, diving down to kiss him. Their teeth collide, smiles
stretching. It’s giggly and messy and perfect. Yoongi wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Chapter End Notes

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