[BTS] In Media Res 2
Prompt: falling in love with best friend's sibling au
Pairing: Yoongi/Jimin, ft Jungkook, ft Taehyung
Word Count: 1k
24 hour gaming marathon. No sleep, just bathroom and snack breaks.
It was a weekend before finals traditions of Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin’s. A tradition their parents had hoped they would grow out of.
It’s been three years.
The tradition isn’t dying.
Today’s marathon is being hosted at Jungkook’s place, despite his mother’s protest.
She made a deal with them. They had to stay in Jungkook’s room.
Fair enough.
Taehyung and Jimin draped themselves across the bed, Jungkook’s bed, while the host was forced to the uncomfortable confines of the floor.
Jungkook’s phone vibrates. He glances down at it, “Huh.”
“Huh what?” Jimin asks.
“My brother is coming for break,” Jungkook says.
Jimin sits up straighter, “How long will Yoongi be here?”
“He didn’t say,” Jungkook rapidly presses the controller buttons.
Taehyung reaches blindly into a bowl, only to touch the bottom. He grabs its side and drops it upside down on Jungkook’s head.
“Kookie we’re out of popcorn,” Taehyung laments
“I’ll make more in a minute,” Jungkook says, he pushes the popcorn bowl/hat higher on his head
“But I’m hungry now,” Taehyung pouts. He pokes Jungkook’s back with his foot.
After the third prod Jungkook leans back on his bed and looks up at Taehyung, “Seriously?”
Taehyung gives his signature box smile.
Jungkook sighs. He pauses the game and takes the bowl off his head, grumbling something about ungrateful hyungs as he walks out.
Jimin reaches for Jungkook’s controller and unpauses the game. He and Taehyung double teamed as Link and Yoshi to kill Nes.
“Dude, you like his brother,” Taehyung says without turning from the screen.
“No,” Jimin scoffs.
“You totally do,” Taehyung continues, “That’s gross.”
Jimin grabs the pillow next to him and hits Taehyung in the back of the head.
“You’re gross,” Jimin mutters.
Taehyung pouts as he rubs his injure scalp.
Jungkook walks in the room holding a bowl of warm popcorn.
He doesn’t react to his dead character. He just sighs and lays across Taehyung’s back, stuffing his mouth with handfuls of popcorn as Taehyung and Jimin finish their match.
~~
To be fair, Yoongi was gross.
He was an excessive chainsmoker that went through four packs a week, and even when he didn’t have a cigarette lit up the smoke smell clung to his clothes like a second skin. His hair was cropped short and dyed red. He had a tattoo on the inside of his wrist and metal curving all around his ears and even labret piercings, two silver balls under his lower lip.
For all that and more, Jimin wanted him.
Jimin wanted the taste of Yoongi’s nicotine in his mouth. He wanted to stroke the dead red hair with his fingertips. He wanted to run his tongue over Yoongi’s labret piercings. He wanted to feel Yoongi’s ribs pressed against his chest. He wanted desperate moans, bruising touches, and stinging pain.
Jimin wanted all of Yoongi.
Yoongi wasn’t his.
Yoongi belonged to Daegu.
He belonged to towering skycrapers and the southern moon heating him as he wakes down busy streets at three in the morning. He is the night life. He is the black cat ducking through alleys and catching meals with sharp teeth. He is steely. He is danger.
He’s beautiful.
Yoongi is beautiful.
Jimin is reminded of this when he wakes up at 2 in the afternoon after the 24 hour marathon and finds Yoongi frying rice in the kitchen. His shirt hangs too loosely on his thin frame, exposing prominent collarbones and pale skin. Jimin catches a glimpse of his tattoo. A cross, like one of those engraved bronze ones in French cathedrals, on the inside of his wrist. The grey wash is stunning on Yoongi’s white skin.
He’s beautiful.
God he’s beautiful.
His mouth is downturned into that pout he always wears, but he smiles briefly when he catches Jimin staring, “Hey short stuff.”
Jimin pouts, “It’s just 1 centimeter hyung.”
Yoongi chuckles to himself.
“Is my brother awake yet?” he asks.
“No,” Jimin leans against the entrance and watches Yoongi cook, “He and Taehyung are still asleep.”
“Taehyung?”
“He moved here last year,” Jimin explains.
Of course Yoongi doesn’t know Taehyung. He hasn’t been over in longer. The only thing that keeps him coming back is Jungkook, or so he says. He continues stirring the rice in the pan. His bangs are too long, they’re covering half of his eyes.
“How have you been hyung?” JImin asks.
“Same, I guess,” Yoongi makes two plates of rice, “I got an internship at a recording company.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi puts the plates on the table, “They said if I keep improving, they’ll hire me full time.”
Yoongi motions at the seat across from him. Jimin grabs two forks, hands one to Yoongi, and sits down at the table.
“I’m sure you’ll get the job,” Jimin says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jimin saw the purple bags under Yoongi’s red eyes. He remembers when Yoongi was in high school and wouldn’t get home until after 1 in the morning because he had got lost in his music at the rented studio.
This was when Jimin was in middle school.
Now he’s in high school. Some things don’t change.
Sometimes it feels like Yoongi is one of those permanent fixtures, something that comes and goes but never changes. He’s still the same height as when Jimin first saw him.
But some things do change.
Like hair. Like piercings. Like addresses.
“Did…” Yoongi pauses, “Did Jungkook say anything about how long our dad will be gone?”
He’s chewing on his lip. He looks scared.
Jimin felt useless, “Not really. Maybe two or three days. I’m not sure.”
The fear was still on Yoongi’s face, “That’s not a lot of time. I have to be gone before he gets back.”
Jimin knew. Jungkook knew.
Yoongi nods.
They finish the food in silence.
Then Jimin collects the plates and begins washing them.
Yoongi steps up behind, “It’s nice to see you again, Jiminnie.”
Jiminnie. The cute nickname given to a child, or in this case, a younger brother’s best friend.
Jimin wondered it took to get a breathless “Jimin” from Yoongi’s mouth.
Jungkook wakes up and tackles Yoongi to the ground.
There isn’t much resemblance between the two, the only feature they share is pale skin. Yoongi, ironically, has the same wide face as their dad, while Jungkook got their mouth’s clever smirk. They love each other all the same.
Maybe Jimin can ask another day.
Maybe he’ll find what it takes to get Yoongi to moan his name.
Prompt: falling in love with best friend's partner au
Pairing: Hoseok/ Seokjin, Seokjin/ Nam Joon, Yoongi/ Jimin
Word Count: 1.2k
It was September when Hoseok first met Seokjin.
Hoseok knows this because he had to wear a jacket that day, and the bars in Itaewon started serving alcohol with pumpkin flavoring. Hoseok hated spicy drinks. But Nam Joon loved them.
Seokjin loved them more.
He had a dogfish head bottle in his hand, the label showing a bear cutting open a pumpkin.
He had dark eyeliner around his eyes.
His hair shown purple under the lights.
He was beautiful.
“Hoseok, this is Seokjin,” Nam Joon introduced him.
“Nice to meet you,” Seokjin held out his hand.
“Hi,” Hoseok intelligently muttered. He shook Seokjin’s hand and then fixed his snapback.
“He’s one of the new writers at Yoongi’s radio station,” Nam Joon explained.
And then his arm went around Seokjin’s waist.
Of course.
Hoseok smiled, “Oh no, you work for that grump? I’m sorry.”
“He’s not too bad once you give him coffee,” Seokjin answered lightheartedly. And then he smiled.
Hoseok’s smile grew wider, “You can’t serve coffee to children.”
Nam Joon laughed. Seokjin laughed. Hoseok laughed.
Yoongi arrived, he heard everything. He got Hoseok in a headlock and said “What was that about being a kid.”
“Well you’re so short,” Hoseok laughed harder, he blindly reached for Yoongi on his back.
And when Yoongi was off, Seokjin was still laughing.
Hoseok’s chest constricted.
~~
Hoseok moved one box from the stack in the empty living room to on top of the kitchen table.
“If you needed a place closer to the station, why don’t you move in with Nam Joon?” Hoseok asked as he unwrapped plates, “He lives across the street.”
“I have this self-imposed I don’t live with boyfriends rule,” Seokjin took the plates and put them on the shelves.
“Why?”Hoseok asked.
“I did that with one guy. We were together for two years before I said yes and once I moved in he was too clingy, it took the fun out of the relationship,” Seokjin explained, “Nam Joon did ask me to move in with him.”
Hoseok can imagine. This was the same guy who bought three dozen roses for their sixth month anniversary.
Hoseok put the empty box on the floor and grabbed the one filled with glass, “But don’t you want the cute little heteronormative gay life?”
Seokjin scoffed, “No thank you.”
“You could sign one lease, file joint taxes, use one toothbrush,” Hoseok teased.
“And we could use a surrogate to have two kids?” Seokjin played along, “One with my sperm and one with Nam Joon’s!”
Hoseok’s eyes grew wide and he had a wide smile, “You could make Christmas cards in matching sweaters and send them out to everyone!”
The charade was up, they both were red faced and laughing. Seokjin clutched his belly while tears formed at the corners of his eyes, “That sounds awful.”
“I know,” Hoseok wheezed.
But that’s what Nam Joon wants. They talked about it one night when they were still in university. When they sat under the stars in the back of Hoseok’s red truck and passed around Yoongi’s bong. Nam Joon wanted the pretty little domestic life, and wanted to show it off to his family and coworkers. Yoongi wanted him to shut up. Hoseok didn’t remember saying anything, he was too busy counting stars.
And now he saw galaxies in Seokjin’s dark eyes, still half closed in laughter.
“God, I’d hate the domestic life,” Seokjin wiped at his eyes.
“I hope you have a daughter,” Hoseok said when he caught his breath.
“Hmm, a daughter?” Seokjin looked at him.
“When you do the surrogate mother,” Hoseok continued, “I hope your baby is a daughter with your fat lips and big eyes. She’d be beautiful.”
Seokjin stilled at that. He searched Hoseok’s eyes, prodding for something.
“I’d buy her cute dresses,” Seokjin said halfheartedly.
Hoseok laughed at that.
Seokjin didn’t.
~~
Seokjin stopped inviting Hoseok out after that day. The only time Hoseok would get a glimpse of him would be in group outings when they were all together.
Yoongi started bringing his underage boytoy with them to the bar. He was a cute kid with a wide smile that sometimes attended dance classes at the academy where Hoseok taught.
“He’s a really good dancer,” Jimin said excitedly, words already slurring after one beer “You should see his performances one day.”
“Nah, I saw all of them in college,” Nam Joon said.
“You could still come to my performances, jack ass,” Hoseok teased.
“But I’ve seen them all,” Nam Joon retorted.
“Be nice Nam Joonie,” Seokjin rubbed the back of Nam Joon’s neck, “go support your best friend.”
“I’d like to revoke our friendship, right now,” Yoongi slammed his bottle of Blue Moon.
“Too late,” Hoseok hugged Yoongi’s shoulders, “We’re blood brothers.”
“You’re gross, go away.” Yoongi whined.
Everyone laughed. Seokjin laughed. Hoseok’s chest constricted.
~~
Hoseok shifted the plant from one arm to another so that he could knock on the door.
Seokjin opened it, his hair was still damp from a shower, his skin soft and glowing. Hoseok swallowed. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” Seokjin opened the door wider so that Hoseok could step inside, “I didn’t know you’d be here so early.”
“Well I fly out tomorrow and you know me,” Hoseok placed the plant on the coffee table, “I always wait until the last minute to do things.”
He stepped back to admire the plant. Seokjin stepped next to him.
“How long will you be gone?” Seokjin asked.
Hoseok shrugged, “It’s a two year contract, but I can always renew it.”
“That long, god,” Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, “You better take photos. And, like, send me Michael Jackson’s star from the walk of fame or something.”
Hoseok laughed, “I doubt Hollywood would let me do that.”
“So. They already stole you from us, I don’t give a fuck about them.”
Hoseok looked at Seokjin. Seokjin look at Hoseok. Neither were smiling.
“Hoseok, is it because of me that you’re-”
“No,” Hoseok cut him off, “It’s more than that.”
Seokjin didn’t look convinced, he started chewing on his fingernails.
Hoseok pulled Seokjin’s hand away from his mouth and kissed the fingertips, “You and Nam Joon are great together. Don’t mess that up because of me.”
“I never thought about it,” Seokjin tried to laugh. It died in his throat.
He pulled his hand away and looked back at the plant, “It’s beautiful,” he said.
“It’s an Amaryllis bulb,” Hoseok explained, “After the flower dies, you dig out the bulb, put it in the freezer, and plant it again in the spring.”
The petals were bicolored, white with red ribs and speckled.
“You’re the only person I trust to keep it alive,” Hoseok whispered.
“Don’t worry, I will,” Seokjin smiled.
It was an honest smile. This was the closure that Seokjin always needed, Hoseok could see it on his face.
For Hoseok leaving that apartment was leaving half of his heart.
~~
Hoseok kept in contact with everyone while he was in LA.
Yoongi spoke in short, abrupt emails.
Jimin spoke in long rambling emails and a myriad of photos of Yoongi and him or his dance classmates.
Nam Joon spoke in the occasional 3 hour long phone call.
Seokjin spoke in weekly letters and photos.
Hoseok was right.
Seokjin’s daughter had his eyes.
And his son had Nam Joon’s smile.
Prompt: 2 miserable people at a wedding
Pairing: Yoongi/ Seokjin, ft Nam Joon, ft Taehyung, ft Jungkook
Word Count: 1.4k
Yoongi took a sip of the red wine.
He looked at the white paper lanterns hanging from the roof beams. He looked at the bride and groom sat in the center table for all to see and to give well wishes. Nam Joon, the lucky groom, had this too wide grin on his face that threatened to break his face. He was constantly kissing the red faced bride. She’d scold him every time, he’d apologize, and then kiss her again. They were cute together.
They made Yoongi feel like throwing up.
It wasn’t just them. It was the music and the lavish bouquets, and the annoying middle aged people who had all sorts of advice on how to stay married and blah, blah, blah
Yoongi sat at one of the closer tables, where he was terribly bored. Nam Joon and Yoongi had been roommates in college. The rest of the groomsmen were Nam Joon’s coworkers, with their pressed ties, engraved handerchiefs, and flashy golden watches. They didn’t even try to talk to Yoongi. Well, it’s not like Yoongi tried either. There were a few couples dancing to the music. And one young couple with their tongues down each other’s throat in the dark corner of the reception hall.
Maybe he should have brought Jungkook. But would the kid like these stuffy formal events? Probably not.
Yoongi drank the rest of his wine. This was going to be a long night.
At least Nam Joon was happy. He leaned to kiss the cheek of blushing bride. This time, she smiled and kissed him back.
Yoongi walked to the drink table to see if they had anything stronger.
“Don’t bother, the only one stronger is the soju.”
Yoongi turned the new voice.
“Believe me, I’ve been searching for the last three dances,” the guy said. He was rubbing at his temples, his suit jacket was off and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows, showing an impressive set of arms.
Yoongi put down the bottle of Merlot, “That’s a shame.”
New guy looked at him.
Yoongi did a quick check, they were the only two people in the area, and pulled a flask from his inside jacket pocket.
The guy laughed, Yoongi poured into two glasses and they mixed with some of the fruit punch.
“Thank you, generous stranger,” he said with a slight accent.
Yoongi shook his hand, “I’m Yoongi, I’m the best man.”
“I’m Seokjin, I’m a filler date for my sister,” Seokjin answered.
“Who’s your sister?”
“One of the bridesmaids,” Seokjin pointed at their table, “She was supposed to come with her long term boyfriend, but they broke up a week ago. Now I’m just trying to stop her from drinking too much.”
Yoongi looked at their glasses and scoffed, “You hypocrite.”
Seokjin laughed. Yoongi laughed.
“If you’re the best man, why do you-” Seokjin motioned with his hand, when the words didn’t come he tried again, “You’re not having fun?”
“I’m not fond of weddings,” Yoongi admitted.
“Me either, I don’t understand the practice of legally binding yourself to another person,” Seokjin shrugged, “What about you?”
“I never liked weddings,” Yoongi looked at the contents of his glass, “I like them even my less after my failed marriage.”
“That happens sometimes,” Seokjin sighed.
A waiter came by and refilled their wine glasses. They watched the dance floor, where Nam Joon twirled his bride around the room while surrounded by family and friends. A few of the small children wove in and out between the dancers.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what ended the marriage?” Seokjin asked.
“Our interests were too similar,” Yoongi explained, “She liked men, so did I.”
Seokjin laughed.
At that moment one of the children broke away from the group and ran up to Seokjin with a thunderous roar. Seokjin faked surprise, then laughed at the small boy. He fit himself on Seokjin’s lap as Seokjin wiped cake off his face. The two whispered to each other in a language Yoongi didn’t recognize. German? French?
“Did they cut the cake already?” Yoongi asked. He really hadn’t paying attention to the wedding part.
“No, he just stole cake with his friends,” Seokjin chided. The kid smiled. Seokjin poked his nose.
“Taehyungie, this is Yoongi,” “Yoongi, this is my son Taehyung.”
“Hi Taehyung,” Yoongi waved.
“You’re short,” Taehyung said in perfect Korean. Yoongi would be offended, but he’s just a kid.
“Yeah, well I’m taller than you,” Yoongi retaliated.
“I’m still growing. You’ll be short forever,” Taehyung said indignantly. His face broke into a wide box smile.
Seokjin fixed Taehyung’s hair then whispered something to him. Taehyung nodded, gave his father a thumb’s up, then took off running. Seokjin laughed softly.
“What language was that?” Yoongi asked.
“French,” Seokjin answered, “I may be Korean but I grew up in Paris.”
“Do you still live there?” Yoongi asked.
“No, I work in Gangnam now. But we speak French in the apartment,” Seokjin explained.
Yoongi, having lived his entire life in South Korea, felt inferior now. Leave it to him to befriend a hot foreigner.
The music changed to a faster song, all the dancers tried desperately to keep up.
“Taehyung’s your kid?” Yoongi asked.
“Of course.”
“And his mother?”
Seokjin paused. He took a drink from his glass before answering, “We had tryst in Venice. She didn’t want to keep him but I told her that I would raise him. We’re not in touch anymore.”
He stared blankly into the audience. Yoongi coughed, “You’re doing a good job.”
Seokjin turned to him, his eyebrows were furrowed into a slight frown.
“You’re doing a good job raising Taehyung,” Yoongi clarified.
“I do my best,” Seokjin smiled, he had a nice smile, “What about you? Do you have any children?”
“I have one, but he’s 14 now… and I didn’t do much of the raising,” Yoongi explained. He thought of Jungkook, when he was 6 years old and Yoongi lost the custody battle. Just last week his ex-wife uploaded new photos on facebook. Jungkook came up to her shoulders.
“It’s never too late to try,” Seokjin said with a reassuring smile.
Yoongi smiled back.
Taehyung ran back at that moment. He pulled on Seokjin’s pant leg and pointed across the room, where one of the bridesmaids was throwing up in one of the flower arrangements. Seokjin sighed.
“It was nice talking to you Yoongi. And thanks for the um,” Seokjin waved his glass.
“No problem,” Yoongi said.
“I could always thank you with dinner, one day?” Seokjin offered.
He was tall, and attractive. When was the last time Yoongi went on a date?
“Dinner would be nice,” Yoongi beamed.
Seokjin handed him his business card. He finished the rest of his glass and let Taehyung drag between the dancers to the other side of the room. Yoongi was left to fester on his thoughts.
And later when Yoongi was called to a perform a toast for the groom, he was able to conjure up enough warm feelings to all have the attendants applauding at the end. Nam Joon was crying.
~~
A week later, Yoongi was sitting in his living room and staring down at his self phone on the table. He laid across his couch. He grabbed his phone. He punched in the numbers before he could change his mind.
The phone rang three times.
“Hello?”
“Hi Jungkook,” Yoongi released the breath he had been holding, “It’s me Yoongi.”
A pause.
“Hi dad,” Jungkook said through the other end.
His voice was deeper. When was the last time Yoongi saw him?
“Hey,” Yoongi responded.
Abother pause.
Jungkook finally asked, “Is there something you want?”
“Not really,” Yoongi shrugged, “I just wanted to check up on you. How are you?”
Jungkook hesitated, "I’m good.”
Yoongi nodded. Then he remembered that Jungkook couldn’t see him. He asked, “How’s school?”
“Okay, I guess. My grades are decent.”
“Decent?”
“… mom scolds for me not getting As.”
“Does she care about the drawings all over your notes?”
“Oh I keep a separate notebook for my drawings,” Jungkook laughed.
Yoongi laughed.
The conversation flowed from there. They slipped into an easy back and forth asking all the usual questions and what not. The phone call ended after 2 hours with a promise to go to the movies next week.
Yoongi hung up with a smile on his face.
He made another phone call.
The phone rang twice.
“Hello.”
Yoongi felt his face heat up, “Hi, this is Yoongi. The one from the wedding.”
“Oh, hello Yoongi, I remember you.” Seokjin greeted cheerfully. Yoongi heard the already familiar hint of an accent.
His smile grew wider.
“About that dinner.”