Of Yoongi and Hoseok

It's painful how much his heart soars at the sound of the peal of laughter that emerges from the man sitting beside him. His chest struggles to gain air, because of his sudden need to capture that musical sound and contain it in any vessel imaginable.

But he can't.

Because Hoseok isn't his.

Never was. Never will be.

So he watches as the love of his life drapes his arm over the shoulder of another man and leans in to whisper sweet nothings in his blessed ear.

Hoseok suddenly turns around and catches Yoongi's eyes. He smiles. His lips turning into a heart shape that holds within a smile to light up a thousand dead suns.

Yoongi smiles back.

It hurts.

But he always smiles back.

---------------------

Taehyung's golden skin ripples in the moonlight that drips into the room with the glass walls. Taehyung's illustrious career helps him to afford the pent house suite with the ethereal view of the beach.

The sky is blue as are Taehyung's contacts which he hasn't removed yet, even after his tiring day at work. The air is damp with sweat and the citrusy smell of potpourri.  

He closes his hand over the large one clasping his face so gently he can barely feel it. A drop of sweat falls on his fingers. Taehyung's face is twisted in pleasure and love. As he moves ever so slowly, Hoseok gasps and twists his hand in his thick mop of hair.

"I love you, Hobi."

Hoseok sighs as he looks into the face of the most beautiful man in the world.

"I love you too."

Yoongi.