The recent snow storms left life outside abysmal for the most part. Yoongi, not one to be out and about in the first place, decided he was best left indoors over the holiday break. That was his goal, at least. Being friends with some of the most annoyingly social people had its downsides - the very fact that they were social being one of them. It meant that there was not one week of his life that he wasn't nagged or dragged to a social event he didn't want to be at.

Example A: the New Years party.

What was so special about it, anyway? A bunch of girls dancing, a bunch of guys drinking, and the eventual hook-ups that both parties shame themselves over come morning. The blonde was much more interested in sleeping through the fireworks with his headphones in then mingling with intoxicated strangers.

No, however, was not a recognized word in either Taehyung or Namjoon’s vocabulary - especially when it involved dancing for the youngest two of their friend group and the chance for Namjoon to swap spit with Jackson in the bathroom stalls.

He could hear it now; ‘We were just drunk and fooling around! Why would friends do that?’ And he was right. Friends wouldn’t do that. But people in love would. Especially people in love who had been keeping their dates a “secret” for . . . how many months now? The incriminating evidence, however, would be that neither of them were ACTUALLY drunk at the time of the offense.

It was silly, though, to try and keep things private. With friends like they had, secrets were short-lived and almost impossible to keep under wraps. If it wasn’t Hoseok snatching journals or phones, it was Jimin and his puppy dog eyes that lulled the word vomit straight from your heart or the cloudy corners of your mind. It was to his best efforts that he kept a very boring life -- on the outside, that was. He couldn’t actually risk being interesting again for his sanity’s sake. Hoseok almost caught wind of his secret once and Yoongi didn’t exactly wish for him to try again.

So maybe he kind of thought about Youngjae a lot more than he should think about anything other than composing or sleep or school. He thought about him more than the things that should actually make sense for him to think about frequently. There was that quiet residual blush that seemed to stain Youngjae’s cheeks, the way his staggered breaths had calmed considerably the moment their hands touched during the blackout in the apartment. Yoongi thought about the look on the younger’s face as they’d parted ways that day - not a peep or sight of him since.

He could have sworn one day, and what seemed a long time ago, he half-assed a sarcastic prayer to whoever would listen to make it that this very circumstance would occur. He had been tired of seeing the other’s stupid smiles on campus, hearing his chortling voice corridors away and just knowing what kind of look he had on his face based on tone alone. If there could have been just one day that he didn’t have to be aware of his existence, it would be a blessing.

It seemed that everything had come back to bite him in the .

The music’s bass threatened to break the concrete outside the building. Namjoon was fixing his glasses up against his nose when a familiar body nearly toppled him over, Yoongi hardly lifting his head to see the pair stumble back against the textured wall. Jackson had been waiting for them for over fifteen minutes - how tragic! - and the party had just now gotten started with their arrival.

“You coming?” Jimin’s elbow in his arm was a wake-up call that Yoongi never asked for. “It's cold out here. You can't just camp outside looking like that.”

His shoulders were half exposed with an oversized long-sleeved shirt, a scarf wrapped haphazardly around his neck and doubled up to keep him warm. Yoongi clicked his tongue in response but Jimin was already half inside the club, the click of the door barely audible over the harsh sounds coming from inside. It looked like he was left out in the cold after all. Although, in Jimin’s defense, Yoongi was never the type to suffer for too long if he could help it.

Defeat. The blonde was cold. With his head down, Yoongi slipped inside the building unnoticed and made his way towards the bar.

Youngjae shook the water from his hands once or twice before grabbing a paper towel from the machine and drying them off properly. Leaning against one of the sinks, Yugyeom looked interested in the beds of his fingernails.

“You think Jackson is going to end up making out with Namjoon tonight?”

A laugh left Youngjae before he knew what he was doing, eyes darting to the younger as he moved to throw his trash away.

“I don't know, probably? He seemed really excited to see him tonight. I wonder if he'll show up.” Motioning towards the exit, the darker haired one sighed. “And if he does, that means he is probably going to bring the rest of them, too.”

Yugyeom’s face went unchanged with the assumption, the music blaring to life as the pair of them ventured back into the crowd of dancers.

Naturally, Yugyeom was more comfortable out in the crowds. He could hold his own with dancers and the ladies, so Youngjae didn't mind letting him leave. He didn’t so much mind not having company - he was used to keeping to himself at scenes like this. The other guys were more the party type, always hollering and dancing, and overall just being better at crowded places. It meant that Youngjae would stick to the sidelines and pretend to be absorbed in a game on his mobile.

But first, a drink to loosen him up sounded pretty good.

Skirting his eyes around for a not-so-crowded section of the bar, Youngjae decided he could squeeze in near the corner, an open seat welcoming him easy. There was a girl on his right who seemed interested in a man whose hand was dipping dangerously low down her back and a guy on the left who seemed to be hunched over the bar. The latter seemed to be uninterested in conversation and that eased his mind a little more.

Climbing over the bar stool, Youngjae rested the palms of his hand on the cool marble surface. The man on the left had a few fingers dug into his temples, his blonde hair purposely unkempt and falling across his one hand as he swirled his drink with the other.

Youngjae caught one of the bartender’s attention and ordered something lightweight - a hard lemonade. Maybe while enjoying it, he could forget about the winter weather outside. As he swiveled on his chair, he noticed the girl who had been next to him previously was now being lead out towards the dance floor.

A part of him wanted to be out there, too.

Not too long after he ordered his drink, there was a cold glass pressing against his arm. Turning back to the counter, he propped his feet up on the bars of the chair and brought the drink closer to his mouth. The taste was smooth and unlike the bite of winter outside the booming building, it helped warm him up from the inside out.

He'd never been drunk in his life, but tonight he had half a mind to try it out for a change.

Yoongi’s drink was bitter and the subtle burn of the cinnamon on his throat was becoming less and less noticeable as he stirred his drink. He'd been paying no mind to the company around him and instead kept his head propped up on his hand, focusing on nothing but the quiet clinks of ice cubes against his glass.

This kind of peace was short-lived - Yoongi’s ears were not clogged and that voice ordering next to him was definitely Youngjae. And that fuzzy feeling in his chest was definitely not from the alcohol. Torn between saying something and getting the hell out of dodge, the rapper froze in his seat and almost forgot to breathe again.

It felt like hours passed between the time the other ordered and the time he began focusing on his beverage. Yoongi’s chest was constricted, his palms sweaty, and he wanted desperately to get some cold air. It was way too hot in the room all of a sudden. He blamed the cinnamon. Ten minutes passed by like ten hours and Yoongi could hear the noise of the straw as the other finished his drink and in the last droplets of lemonade.

Maybe he'd leave, go somewhere else, and Yoongi could find a nice secluded corner to rest his head against.

Youngjae’s mind had different plans, though. Pulling free his phone, he scrolled through his notifications to see if any of them required his attention. Pulling up one of his social media apps, he browsed before closing out and repeating the same process on the next. Whenever he came to a bitter end of his kill-time, the brunette opted to pull up a game.

The rapper beside him, unannounced, wanted to make his leave without being found out. If Youngjae saw him now, wouldn't he accuse him of something? He could just picture it, their argument. They'd argued so much in the history of knowing each other that it was like second nature. Youngjae was most always right, though Yoongi would never let him know that.

As time went on, he managed to avoid eye contact with the barkeep and avoided looking to his right for any reason. Arm after arm reached over him, grabbing drink orders, but he kept his head down.

Just like that, an hour had passed.

It was nearing midnight and fast - the crowd swelling with activity while others here and there slipped out into the night to retreat with their catches. Half lidded eyes, accustomed to being asleep by now, were feeling extra heavy. The scarf around his neck was beginning to make his neck sweat and Youngjae hadn’t budged from the seat next to him. Such his luck.

Just as he was about to flip the bird to his circumstance, his saving grace came in the oddest of ways. It came in the form of Jungkook’s hand on his shoulder and a giggly Namjoon hooked around the youngest’s neck. Yoongi turned when Jungkook grabbed onto him, leaving his drink behind to settle his attention on his friends.

“We've got a little problem.”

From the looks of it, Namjoon had been having a little too much fun on his little date with Jackson and had gotten a bit too tipsy.

Raising a brow, the rapper leaned forwards on his seat and patted Namjoon’s cheek with equal parts affection and contempt. The other was smiling and going on about how much fun he was having, his hands tearing at Jungkook’s shirt as if he was trying to undress him. It was funny to Namjoon but completely embarrassing to Jungkook who was being eyed by a pretty girl who looked about Yoongi’s age. Guess the youngster had game after all.

“Can you take care of him? I can't drive so I can't take him home. Plus you guys came together.” Yoongi wanted to scoff at him - such a whiny kid. “He and--”

Jungkook didn't get to finish because right on cue, Mark, nearby, was ushering a swaying Jackson right up to the same bar, but his eyes were on Youngjae instead. Oh, no. This was not looking good.

He needed to get out and fast.

Youngjae’s drink had hit the spot and he was more than inclined to order a second glass. His body seemed to vibrate with warmth, a smile lifting his cheeks up before he really had the opportunity to catch it himself. It helped ease him into the night life, the music now a tad bit less intrusive and slower, allowing for coupled bodies to press together.

It was all easier on his brain now, his eyes skating across people while watching the mirror behind the bar. The guy next to him hardly moved at all and though he was perplexed at what was wrong, he was not in the mood to try and question him.

And that's when Mark was spotted, shoving people out of the way while a wobbly Jackson held onto his arm as if it were his life raft. He wasn’t surprised, really, more impressed that the boy held out so long. Jackson wasn’t necessarily a drinker, you see, but when he drank it seemed he had no filter for when enough was more than enough. And though he was never rowdy and impossible to control, he was a mouthy one and refused to stay in bed.

Already dreading the night to come, Youngjae’s attention was yanked to a familiar voice. Namjoon?

“I'm really fine, y’see.” He almost hiccuped. “Me an’ Jackson were just playin’ a game ‘n I lost.”

Yoongi bit his tongue and hopped off the bar stool, avoiding Mark who was now next to them, negotiating with the man he hadn’t wanted to see ( who was he fooling? ) about what to do with their friend. In the dark of the night, it was easy for them not to immediately notice. The lights swerved this way and that and when it wasn't glowing nearby, faces were almost impossible to see.

That luck ran out, however, when Namjoon tossed his head to find Jackson. The taller of them nearly shoved Jungkook towards the bar as he stumbled to grab ahold of the guy he had been playing with, tugging him by his arm with a storm of laughter rising up in his chest.

“Namjoon, what the f--”

Jungkook was swearing under his breath while Yoongi was swearing out loud. Without any more hesitance in him, he grabbed onto Namjoon’s ear and yanked hard, almost hissing as he tried to corral his friend.

“Ow ‘Gi-- you’re hurting me.”

“Good.” It was all he could bite out for now, pulling the younger to him and coincidentally Jackson too. “You’re being ridiculous. I have a right to hurt you.”

The look on Youngjae’s face was indescribable. Hurt, maybe? Betrayal? Shock? There were many emotions flashing through his eyes but he paid no attention to them - instead he focused on his mouth which was almost threatening to form into a smile. At the last second, it broke and became a thin line.

Oh, he wasn’t too happy.

Mark spoke up first.

“Both of them started drinking over in the booths - they were playing some kind of shot game and, as you can see,” his hands outlined the mess at Yoongi’s fingertips for exaggeration, “it didn't turn out too well.”

If he wasn’t so wound up from Youngjae and Namjoon, he'd of laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was ridiculously his bad luck to get stuck with drunken idiots at the party he was dragged into. Life had a funny way of treating him.

Youngjae’s body was tense and his knuckles were white as his fists pressed into his knees. He was still sat up on the stool, still fixed on the man - Yoongi - who was now making arrangements with Mark on how they would get the boys home. His mouth was numb on the inside, lips pulled so taut he was worried they'd stay numb after he released his hold on them. He couldn’t quite piece together what was going on yet all he knew was that his hand ( the one that Yoongi had held onto ) was itching to find company again.

Had he come to terms with what he felt?

Not likely. He still wanted to fight himself over every little spark of warmth he felt even when the other was rolling his eyes at him or arguing with him. The younger wanted to write it off as anything but a crush but the more he avoided the other completely, well, the more his fondness for him grew.

At this rate, he'd take a stink eye from Yoongi over no eye contact at all. But it seemed that wasn't the case. He could pinpoint the small glances his way, the way the older would casually look to him as if he was expecting Youngjae to chime in at any time.

“I'll come with you.”

The two of them, Mark and Yoongi, each holding onto a drunken boy, stopped talking altogether. Mark relaxed quickly, though, and nodded his head.

“You had better go with him and make sure he gets home safe. Jaebum would kill us if he wasn't taken care of. I trust you though.” A sympathetic look was given to him as he ruffled Jackson’s hair for a second, telling him to behave although they all knew he wouldn’t.

Once it was down to the drunk couple and the two sober designated caregivers, the tension built back up slowly.

“Well do you - how about you - Jackson goes with you and we'll get them in the car.” It came out like a question on Yoongi’s end but he wasted no time in hurrying the mess of his friend towards the exit.

Jackson settled against Youngjae’s side as he had with Mark and began mumbling on about how he wanted to touch Namjoon’s hair a lot, in so many words, before he started in on how Youngjae was such a good friend and a good guy.

At least someone here thought so.

The plans had changed from the party.

Not voluntarily, but by force.

A certain someone had left his house key IN the house and had failed to grab Mark’s before they left toting two sacks of giggling messes in the backseat of Namjoon’s car. That certain someone also swore that when he told Yoongi about the less than ideal predicament he was in, the other smiled.

So it was to the apartment they went, in the end, and trying to keep two rambunctious adults quiet ( to not wake the neighbors ) as they walked up the steps was more than horrifying. It was a great idea in an overly tipsy Namjoon mind to start singing songs off key which left Jackson a hysterical laughing mess.

Thankfully Yoongi unlocked the door just in time for the chorus and Youngjae helped shove the idiots over the threshold and away from the public eye.

“Go sit down, Joon, I'm going to get you some water.” His tone was both commanding and affectionate, though the look on his face definitely showed none of the latter. He looked like a stressed out mom, wrinkled forehead and tucked in eyebrows.

Namjoon obliged after a moment of yanking on Yoongi’s scarf and Youngjae took his seat next to Jackson, whose legs were visibly jerking with the desire to get up and go - to be anywhere but sitting there. The brunette knew it'd be hell to get him to stay down for bed from experience and he didn't even have Yugyeom there to help sit on him to keep him down.

It would make for an interesting story in the end, he supposed.

Yoongi’s footsteps caught his attention and he turned to watch the older waterfall something non-alcoholic into his friends mouth. He heard Namjoon mumble something but couldn't quite catch it, while Jackson’s laughter started to bubble back up.

Once Namjoon had taken his drink, Yoongi tossed a cold bottle of water Youngjae’s way and he caught it with ease.

“Alright! So, you two are going to go to bed. Since you've decided to spend half the night drinking, you can spend the rest of it sleeping. Deal?” The laughter that answered him nearly caused Youngjae to giggle as well. He was trying to handle two children by this point.

“I'm going to get you guys a puke bucket for when your bad decisions start to come back up and - Joon, drink the water.”

Youngjae coaxed Jackson for a drink easier than expected and got up to start guiding him to one of the bedrooms, a small smile lifting his cheeks up.

“Are there two beds? Which room would you rather us stay in?” Youngjae’s sudden question after mostly being silent for the last fifteen minutes caught the blonde off guard. “I can stay with Jackson and make sure he doesn't make a mess.”

Scratching at the back of his neck, Yoongi clicked his tongue and shrugged, offering a little smile of his own.

“I think they would do better keeping each other company,” he started, glancing between the two of them, “they'll probably do better together back there than with us. They obviously don't mind being alone with one another.”

It was at that moment that Youngjae’s cheeks caught fire, the familiar burning feeling of his face causing him to turn away to Jackson. He could pretend to be busy - he was a decent actor.

“Come on, Jackson.” Tucking his arm under the other’s, he helped haul him up as Yoongi ushered Namjoon towards the hallway and to the left, where he assumed the bedroom was. “We're going to put you to bed.”

Namjoon’s laughter broke this time, his delighted chanting starting up about he and Jackson getting to sleep together making their caretakers both laugh. They would be mortified in the morning when all of this came back to them, that was certain.

The whole ordeal of getting them in bed properly was easier than either of them thought. Once Jackson had climbed in next to Namjoon, they were on their sides facing each other and giggling about this and that before Yoongi and Youngjae could leave the room.

It left Youngjae with an interesting predicament - where was he going to stay? Stopping short before the end of the hallway, Youngjae ran a hand through his hair and pressed his shoulder to the wall beside him.

“Hey - uh, Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

The blonde, who had just settled down on the couch with his feet propped up on the table, cocked a brow. As if it were obvious and common knowledge, his response was curt.

“Right here.”

Youngjae blinked several times, giving him the chance to continue; he received no further answer.

“And where am I going to sleep?”

Yoongi flashed him a knowing look before motioning to the same hallway Youngjae was standing in.

“In my bed.”

The other had showed him where the room was and which bed was his - he shared with Jimin, of course - and he had even left him a pair of sweatpants out. But the pants, however, came without instructions. There was no ‘if you want to change’ as he laid out the jogging bottoms, instead it was as if he was requesting him to.

“I'm fine, really.”

Yoongi had hardly acknowledged his passive response and instead closed the drawer with an assured nod of his head.

Youngjae’s eyes scanned the bed he was going to be sleeping in and for MANY reasons, he was unsure to even touch it. The bed was cleanly made up and the bedside table was neatly organized, a simple lamp and alarm clock with a phone charging dock set up.

Taking a hold of one corner of the blanket, he peeled it back to give him enough room. Yoongi was lingering by the doorway, nearly smirking at the other.

“It's not dirty, you know. Just get in bed.”

Youngjae flashed him a warning glare that Yoongi hardly took seriously and pushed the blankets out of the way with a new vigor, out of spite for the other.

“It's not my bed and not my apartment you can't expect people to just do things like sleep in a stranger's bed comfortably.” He sat on the bed first, noticing how soft it was compared to his own - well, he wouldn't enjoy it any more than he had to. “Unless you're used to strangers being over and in your bed, you know. I don't know your life.”

Yoongi’s laugh was unexpected and frankly quite alarming.

“So we're strangers now? You hold my hand because you got scared of the dark and then avoid me - and now, we're strangers?” He could have snorted, but he held back. “I won’t accept that. And for your information, nobody has ever slept in my bed. Not even any of the guys.”

A newfound warmth spread across his cheeks and down, his eyes dropping to his lap.

“I'm going to take out the trash real quick. If Jin were to come home and find out it's still there, he'd behead me. Just yell if you need anything else.”

Before Youngjae could defend himself for earlier, the other was left alone, staring at the lone pair of grey sweats folded neatly on the dresser.

Yoongi locked the door behind him as he returned for the night, knowing good and well Jimin and Jin had their own keys and probably wouldn’t be coming home until morning regardless.

The house was quiet, to his surprise, and no sounds of rambunctious drunk adults could be heard behind the bedroom door they were in. Peeking his head in anyways, to make sure they hadn't puked on the floor, Yoongi wasn’t exactly surprised by the sight of Jackson propped up on Namjoon’s chest, shirts abandoned for sleep and in a crumpled heap at the end of the bed.

Even in their drunken slumber, the lovebirds still looked kind of cute.

Before he could go get comfortable on the couch, a thought popped up. In his lapse earlier, Yoongi had forgotten to grab his charging cable for his phone. The battery was teetering on only 10% and if he needed it, it probably wouldn't last long.

Listening for a moment at the opposite room’s door, Yoongi couldn’t hear anything. Was he already asleep? Taking a slow breath, he turned the knob and opened just enough to catch a glimpse inside. Shocked, he pushed the door the rest of the way open and looked around; Youngjae wasn’t in the bed.

Venturing further into the room, Yoongi reached for his charging cable and searched for any signs of Youngjae’s belongings - a phone maybe? Just as he was lifting up the covers to check, there was an audible gasp behind him.

Turning around abruptly, letting his blankets fly from his hand, he was greeted with an equally shocked face. Youngjae’s eyes were darting everywhere but Yoongi’s, leaving the other to let his own drop.

In the brunette’s hands were a pair of jeans.

They were the jeans he had been wearing.

Yoongi’s chest constricted as he looked down further to see his favorite pair of sweats hanging low on the other’s waist. The drawstrings were undone, dangling down his thighs, bare feet with toes slightly curled shifting nervously on the carpeted floor.

Youngjae hid his face with the bundle of his jeans and the way his voice shuddered out left Yoongi smiling.

“Y-you left them out on the dresser. I figured you - jeans aren't exactly comfortable sleepwear. I can take them off if you--”

Yoongi shook his head quickly at that and wrapped the USB cable around his fingers, trying to distract himself from staring too much.

“No, no. You keep them on. It's what I got them out for, after all.” Granted, he could have told him such and bypassed all the awkward looks but he was too cryptic for that kind of straightforward affection. Or so he told himself, at least.

There was something strangely satisfying about Youngjae draped in his clothes, sleeping in his bed. He couldn’t help but steal a glance or two while the other took a few steps, leaving his jeans where the sweats had once rested.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

Youngjae ran a hand through his hair and the movement hiked up the white graphic tee he'd been wearing; Yoongi’s eyes caught the sight of his bare skin and the first intrusive thought in his mind was that it was not nearly enough for his taste.

“Don't mention it. I'll be heading out now. To the couch. Just--” The blonde shifted his weight, taking a step or two closer to Youngjae.

“Yell if I need anything?” His voice was softer now, more sincere, eyes finally lifted up to meet Yoongi’s with confidence that they never seemed to lack.

“That.”

The pair were shoulder to shoulder.

Youngjae’s fingers curled tight enough to white his knuckles, a blush staining his cheeks and part of his chest. The goose bumps on his arms were driving him wild and all it took was one small brush of Yoongi’s hand against his to warrant a shiver.

With a breathless laugh, one that Yoongi had never done in his life, his hand shifted to press along Youngjae’s more certainly, his fingers softly brushing here and there. It took a couple of seconds before the younger realized what was happening and when he did, he opened the spaces between his fingers and laced them with the other’s.

“Your palms are sweaty.” Yoongi whispered, squeezing his hand regardless; that wasn't enough to make him want to let go.

Youngjae’s response was left in his actions.

Turning better towards the other, he leaned in closer, eyes dropping to his mouth and neck in fear that if he met his eyes instead, the embrace would be rejected. Yoongi, unsure of what exactly was happening, flicked his tongue out over his mouth and leaned his head downward, closer to the other.

The air between them was thick, warm, and Youngjae was absolutely disgusted with how much his palm was sweating while still being gripped by the older. It took a moment of gathering strength, but Yoongi and Youngjae both closed the distance, foreheads pressing together first, then their noses.

He couldn’t tell if it was his gasp or not, in response to the contact, but Youngjae didn't care. Fingers curled tighter, trying to give him a sign. Seconds felt like hours and Youngjae’s nose brushed against Yoongi’s, about to pull away. Maybe he'd been reading the signs all wrong?

“Just kiss me already.”

It sounded much better in the movies, in Yoongi’s defense.

“Why do I have to kiss y--mmph--”

In as long as it had taken for Youngjae to protest, the blonde had released his hold on the younger’s hand and instead resorted to grabbing Youngjae’s face - arguably way softer than what the brunette would have ever imagined, not that he had imagined this too often - to crash their mouths together. It wasn’t like a movie, after all. Sparks didn't fly and he didn't all of a sudden want to sing and dance. The kiss was long lasting, though, deep for all the trouble they'd put each other through, and it lit a fire in Youngjae’s toes that spread throughout his entire body.

It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was the first kiss he’d ever had that left his knees like jelly.

Fingers curled tight against Yoongi’s shirt, both for balance and comfort, and he pulled him in instinctively closer until their chests were touching, only breaking apart the kiss to take gasping breaths against each other’s mouth. He couldn’t recall when it was that he had shut his eyes but now that they were open, Yoongi’s were staring into them with a look Youngjae couldn’t ever imagine coming from the other in a lifetime.

Yoongi shifted and his fingers fell to trace against the base of the younger’s neck before he pulled out of the grasp, a warm grin rested on his face.

“Took you long enough,” Youngjae’s was muttering though a smile as bright as ever was right underneath, leaving his complaints less than effective.

“You complain too much.”

Yoongi’s USB cable had been dropped long ago, the worries about his phone or the drunk idiots in the other room in the distant past. But where did this leave them? Deciding not to worry about it too much tonight, Yoongi bent over to grab the cable and slung it around his arm lazily, eyes resting on Youngjae’s face, his reddened cheeks creeping back to life with a vengeance.

Yoongi leaned in once more and bumped their noses together, feeling a lot more brave than he had in a long time with the other. Both of their eyes closed, soft breaths the only noise between them - it certainly was a welcome from the constant griping - until Yoongi’s lips brushed up to leave a soft kiss against the bridge of Youngjae’s nose.

“Get some sleep, stranger.”

“You too, stranger.”

The two of them shared one last look before Yoongi slipped out the door and retired to his designated spot on the couch, his own face on fire with no desire to cool it off.

Youngjae crawled into the bed he was offered for the night and his last thought before pulling the covers off and falling asleep was how many more nights he might spend in this bed from this moment on - how many of those nights would be spent alone until Yoongi would join him, too.