A/N: Yoongi and Taehyung listen to Vivaldi in the dark. Some reference to ual content, so if you are uncomfortable with that please click the back button. Otherwise, please sit back and enjoy the read!

Apologies in advance to Vivaldi listeners; I have a ridiculous classical kink (is this even a thing??) at the moment and this was just begging to be written after I'd listened to Vivaldi one too many times. 

Chapter II – Vivaldi

Yoongi’s insomnia is nothing new. The fatigue in his body just never seems to translate properly in his head, and he lies awake staring blankly at the ceiling while every muscle twinges in protest, even ones in places he didn’t know had muscles to begin with.

He pads out quietly to the living room, laptop tucked into the crook of one arm. He’s intent on at least getting some work done if he can’t get any proper rest. In the darkness, something shifts. If he stares long enough, he can make out a lumpy shape waving at him from the sofa.

Taehyung isn’t an insomniac, but he does have problems sleeping from time to time. Yoongi knows it’s a bout of homesickness, even if he doesn’t say it out loud. This isn’t the first time he’s caught the kid awake way past his bedtime.

Yoongi has barely settled himself on the sofa when Taehyung jams an earphone unceremoniously inside one ear. He tenses, but what greets him is the soft chirruping of violins. An orchestra?

He glances at Taehyung with a raised eyebrow, but the other boy just smiles back and doesn’t speak, motioning to the earbud stuck in his own ear with unnecessary emphasis.

When the violin hits its first high, piercing notes, Yoongi recognizes the piece right away.

Vivaldi’s Winter.

A sound almost like a shriek, dangerously treading the line between music and noise. This is how he first viewed Taehyung, how he tried to gauge if their newest band member was going to be invaluable or just a pain in the . Too outlandish, too attention-grabbing, too alien in all the wrong ways. Yoongi hadn’t wanted to debut as part of a boy group, and he remembers internally balking at the thought of having to spend so much of his time with a child that didn’t seem to know how and when to shut up.

Before he knows it, the sound shifts into a crescendo with the entire orchestra following behind the violin’s lead, tapering into a solo that has him unconsciously holding his breath. Taehyung has a dazed expression on his face, and like a bolt out of the blue Yoongi thinks about how beautiful he looks. He can feel his blood pumping furiously to the accelerating tempo of the violin, heartbeat surging with the violinist’s passionate trills. It’s the dumbest idea he’s had in a long, long time, but he can’t seem to recall why he shouldn’t do it. He reaches out to cup his hand against the curve of Taehyung’s cheek just as the piece enters piano—or is it pianissimo? He can’t tell anymore—and in a lungful of air. The sound of Yoongi’s thundering heartbeat becomes unbearable in the silence that follows. Their eyes meet, and he slowly leans forward to close the distance between them.

Taehyung’s lips are soft, if a little chapped from the cold. Yoongi half-expects him to pull away, although he’s given him ample time to reject the gesture, and run away stuttering in shock. He experimentally at the younger man’s lower lip, eliciting a shiver. He thinks of another ‘v’ word Namjoon wouldn’t approve of him using anywhere near an international ARMY fan’s presence—V for al. Ridiculously naïve despite his good looks, Yoongi wouldn't be surprised if Taehyung was more the type to have been kissed than to have initiated the kiss. The taste of sugar lingers on his tongue, as if Taehyung had been indulging in sweets right before Yoongi had joined him.

“You want me to stop?” His voice comes out scratchier than he intended. Taehyung’s answer is immediate.

“No.”

Yoongi pulls Taehyung towards him then, the last remnants of his self-control flying out the window. He savors it all—those large hands clutching at his shoulders, the sweet little gasps he makes when they break apart for air, the way he falls apart at the seams under Yoongi’s touch.

He listens again to the piece once Taehyung’s fallen asleep, head resting against his shoulder. Unlike the first movement, the second movement is quiet and peaceful, much like Taehyung when sleeping. The eye of the storm, Yoongi thinks to himself. Or perhaps an oasis in the middle of a winter wasteland. That’s what Taehyung has become to him, his personal oasis. A reminder of both his Daegu roots and the responsibility he carries, especially on days he feels like walking away because the fame just isn’t worth all the that comes with being a K-pop idol. A reminder that if a shy teenager from Daegu can muster the courage to keep smiling through all the insults and injustices they’ve suffered, he should be able to do the same and keep moving forward.

Yoongi closes his eyes as the sound of the third movement starts. In between the melodious conversation between violin and orchestra, he can still hear Taehyung’s hoarse voice groaning out his name. Probably not what Vivaldi had in mind when he composed the piece, but he didn’t have Kim Taehyung writhing underneath him against the backdrop of the last and most intense violin solo, claiming it would set the mood.

Yoongi can’t say he still disagrees, not with how things turned out.

Part of him worries about what will happen once they (Taehyung, mostly) wake up. Is it best to pretend he never instigated the kiss, or should he wait for Taehyung to make the first move? Yoongi has had his share of girlfriends, but there’s no point trying to compare them to Taehyung. What they have right now is too different, and if he’s honest with himself he’s never really doted on them the way he has with the younger man. Not to mention he’s never been very good at beating around the bush, so he would do an absolutely horrible job tiptoeing around Taehyung and inadvertently hurt him in the process.

They’re a little distant around each other for the next couple of days. It’s not Taehyung’s fault, but Yoongi’s still trying to come up with something that doesn’t sound too tactless. Once the others are out of the dorm and they’re the only two left, Yoongi clears his throat uncomfortably.

He plans to start the conversation by returning the favor from the other night and plugging them in to Vivaldi’s Summer. He opens his mouth.

“So we ed to Vivaldi’s Winter the other night,” is what comes out instead. Yoongi curses and tries again.

“That came out wrong, —“ He breaks off because Taehyung is giggling like a blushing schoolgirl and nodding his head.

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow at the display, but he can’t say he’s surprised anymore. Time to change tactics. “I personally like Summer better.”

Taehyung looks aghast at the statement.“You personally like ing to Summer better?” He pouts, although the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile. “Blasphemy!”

He snorts. Vivaldi would roll over in his grave if he heard them. “No, idiot.” Summer is a melancholic and unpredictable piece, alternating between hot summer winds and thunderstorms. The resemblance to Taehyung is uncanny.

“I wouldn’t mind trying it out, though.” The brown-haired man’s voice drops to a lower register.

Yoongi ends up swearing off classical music for a while after that.