[team sonic] love, love, love
First words from 내 우주는 전부 너야.
Title from Jason Mraz's I'm Yours.
“Namjoon never watches the road when he drives anyways. I think you’re brave to- “Yoongi pauses, blinks. While he’s expected to be met with silence, quiet, he’s met with the sound of bare feet against the wooden floor, rustles of plastic bags. Yoongi’s eyes widen, pulse speeds up. He’s not supposed to be doing this right now. “Shit, I’ll talk to you later, if I don’t get killed.”
Hoseok is speaking when Yoongi hangs up, throwing the phone as far away from him as possible; which ends up being not that far at all since he’s seated in the middle of the floor in a tiny room with wooden parts of a crib strewn around him. There’s no way to go. Yoongi is trapped. The footsteps get louder, closer and Yoongi wishes that he could teleport back into bed where he’s supposed to be right now.
“Min Yoongi, what the eff do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
Yoongi knows he should be terrified, counting his blessings, but he finds that extremely difficult when Seokjin is standing in the doorframe, wearing a fluffy, pink sweater. The messiness of his brown hair; stands poking out everywhere, as well as the pink tint in his cheeks don’t help at all. Seokjin looks absolutely adorable, like cotton candy and Yoongi has to fight the urge to coo at him. Something tells him that wouldn’t help his situation at all.
“What the ‘eff’, really?” Yoongi says, chewing on his bottom lip so he won’t smile or grin or do anything that’ll make him get his ass kicked five ways into next week.
“I’m not swearing around the baby. The doctor says he can hear us, remember?” Seokjin says, eyes wide as his gaze falls from Yoongi’s face to Yoongi’s swollen tummy that he tried and failed to hide under a big hoodie. Unconsciously, Yoongi pulls on the hem of his sweater, wishing it would cover his bump more, make it invisible.
“Doc said he’ll hear us when we’re close, not - “Yoongi gestures wildly with his hands. “- On the other side of the Earth.”
Seokjin purses his lips as he crosses the floor, hands settling under each of Yoongi’s armpits before he pulls him up from the floor. Yoongi expects him to let go once Yoongi is on his feet, but instead Seokjin pulls Yoongi’s back flush against his chest, both of Seokjin’s hands comes to rest on Yoongi’s round tummy, softly, carefully as if he’s afraid of damaging it.
“The doctor also told you to stay in bed because you’re overworking your body,” Seokjin says softly, bending slightly to be able to hook his chin over Yoongi’s shoulder. It always feels nice, Yoongi admits to himself, having Seokjin close. He’s always warm, while Yoongi always is cold.
“Not being able to do anything drives me crazy,” Yoongi admits wryly.
Seokjin hums a slow, familiar tune as he traces small patterns over Yoongi’s clothed bump. “So you decided to put together his crib?”
“Kind of. I lost the manual and decided to wing it.”
Seokjin laughs, loud, obnoxious. Yoongi’s heart flutters.
Title from Jason Mraz's I'm Yours.
“Namjoon never watches the road when he drives anyways. I think you’re brave to- “Yoongi pauses, blinks. While he’s expected to be met with silence, quiet, he’s met with the sound of bare feet against the wooden floor, rustles of plastic bags. Yoongi’s eyes widen, pulse speeds up. He’s not supposed to be doing this right now. “Shit, I’ll talk to you later, if I don’t get killed.”
Hoseok is speaking when Yoongi hangs up, throwing the phone as far away from him as possible; which ends up being not that far at all since he’s seated in the middle of the floor in a tiny room with wooden parts of a crib strewn around him. There’s no way to go. Yoongi is trapped. The footsteps get louder, closer and Yoongi wishes that he could teleport back into bed where he’s supposed to be right now.
“Min Yoongi, what the eff do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
Yoongi knows he should be terrified, counting his blessings, but he finds that extremely difficult when Seokjin is standing in the doorframe, wearing a fluffy, pink sweater. The messiness of his brown hair; stands poking out everywhere, as well as the pink tint in his cheeks don’t help at all. Seokjin looks absolutely adorable, like cotton candy and Yoongi has to fight the urge to coo at him. Something tells him that wouldn’t help his situation at all.
“What the ‘eff’, really?” Yoongi says, chewing on his bottom lip so he won’t smile or grin or do anything that’ll make him get his ass kicked five ways into next week.
“I’m not swearing around the baby. The doctor says he can hear us, remember?” Seokjin says, eyes wide as his gaze falls from Yoongi’s face to Yoongi’s swollen tummy that he tried and failed to hide under a big hoodie. Unconsciously, Yoongi pulls on the hem of his sweater, wishing it would cover his bump more, make it invisible.
“Doc said he’ll hear us when we’re close, not - “Yoongi gestures wildly with his hands. “- On the other side of the Earth.”
Seokjin purses his lips as he crosses the floor, hands settling under each of Yoongi’s armpits before he pulls him up from the floor. Yoongi expects him to let go once Yoongi is on his feet, but instead Seokjin pulls Yoongi’s back flush against his chest, both of Seokjin’s hands comes to rest on Yoongi’s round tummy, softly, carefully as if he’s afraid of damaging it.
“The doctor also told you to stay in bed because you’re overworking your body,” Seokjin says softly, bending slightly to be able to hook his chin over Yoongi’s shoulder. It always feels nice, Yoongi admits to himself, having Seokjin close. He’s always warm, while Yoongi always is cold.
“Not being able to do anything drives me crazy,” Yoongi admits wryly.
Seokjin hums a slow, familiar tune as he traces small patterns over Yoongi’s clothed bump. “So you decided to put together his crib?”
“Kind of. I lost the manual and decided to wing it.”
Seokjin laughs, loud, obnoxious. Yoongi’s heart flutters.