Of Yoongi 

What brings Yoongi down to Earth are those moments when little blue ripples come off Taehyung’s fingers as they hold onto Hoseok, so he won’t fly away. The satisfied hum that Hoseok gives out as the blue appears to seep into him breaks his heart every single time.

It reminds him how he can never give him that level of comfort from his element; not that he’ll ever know, because he’s too scared to try. His gut burns in envy whenever he sees how Taehyung and his element always change Hoseok’s mood for the better.

And it’s no different now with a tense Hoseok, seeking solace in Taehyung’s warmth.

They’re all sprawled across different corners of the living room at Seokjin’s place, waiting for Namjoon and Jimin to arrive and thus complete their septet friend circle. Yoongi and Hoseok are seated on two ends of the beige couch with a questionable stain on the armrest. Jeongguk is at the door, watching Seokjin make bibimbap with a dopey love-struck expression on his face. And Taehyung is sprawled across the carpet, with his head resting on Hoseok’s lap.

Hoseok sighs as he runs his slim fingers through Taehyung’s hair. Yoongi is quick to catch on to the apprehension that twists his forehead in worry. So, when he gets up to use the washroom, he follows and waits patiently outside the door. When Hoseok opens the door, he is so distracted by whatever is on his mind, that he doesn’t notice Yoongi. When he finally notices, he nearly jumps out of his skin and places his hand over his heart.

“God, hyung! I nearly had a heart attack!” He jabs his shoulder lightly in mock anger.

Yoongi chuckles as he slowly grabs Hoseok’s thin wrist in his. “Sorry, Seok.” Hoseok smiles and his tiny dimples come out. Yoongi’s heart palpitates. “What’s wrong, though? You look really stressed.”

Hoseok sighs heavily. He removes his hand from Yoongi’s grip only to lace their fingers together. Yoongi’s shadow stirs and he has to physically restrain himself from leaning closer to the taller man in his reach.

“You know how we’re having a showcase next week. It’s really getting to me. Everyone’s nerves are on edge; they’re doing their best, but the pressure has a few of them snapping at each other. And I’m giving a solo performance too, and I feel like I’m so out of tune. It’s been so long since I’ve danced for me. I feel so-“ He sighs again and looks up into black understanding orbs that coax out his deepest worries. “What if I’m not as good as I used to be, hyung? What if I’ve lost my edge?”

Yoongi squeezes his hand around the slim cold fingers that clasp it feebly. He brings his free palm to cup Hoseok’s anxious face. He slowly his apple cheeks as he says in his deepest, most reassuring voice, “Hoseokah, you’ll never know unless you try and give it your all. You’ve taught those kids from scratch, and now they’re good enough to be pro idols. You’re a genius, Seokah. You make the music move to your dance moves, rather than the other way around. And every time I see you move, I want to capture that in music.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as he covers his hand. His eyes say thank you and his smile shows restored confidence. Yoongi continues to his cheek, as he notices how Hoseok is glowing. His light never ceases to amaze him; how his golden skin glitters ever so subtly like a painting brought to life. His hand moves its gentle downward to trace the gentle contours of the dimples that abode near his lips. He ponders how they disappear and reappear with every breath he takes. His finger traces the corner of his lip, and he feels Hoseok gasp slowly and hold his breath. His shadow roars as it rams against the confines of his body, lusting for the light at his fingertips. As Yoongi lowers his fingertips to gently brush Hoseok’s lower lip, he looks into the younger’s eyes, and his breath stops. Hoseok's face is flushed and his eyes are glazed. His light flickers on and off, on and off.

Yoongi's shadow explodes.

Ding Dong. The ring of the doorbell, announcing the arrival of the rest of their group, breaks the spell. Yoongi drops his hand and looks into Hoseok’s bewildered eyes. He releases his stagnant breath. “Let’s get going, Seokkie.” Hoseok nods slowly, his face plagued by confusion.

He swallows hard as he grabs his hand gently and pulls, pretending like he doesn’t recognise the guilt and disappointment on Hoseok’s face. Pretending like he wasn’t one breath away from kissing the life, and possibly even the light, out of him.

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

The days pass by in a flurry.

All of Yoongi’s time is spent between the studio and Seokjin’s apartment. Jeongguk’s album is coming along splendidly and he’s overjoyed. Seokjin is quite pleased with how the music is turning out, and is contemplating whether to feature an established artist, perhaps Namjoon, on one of the tracks.

Hoseok has been arriving late these days, what with how busy he is with his showcase. He looks more and more tired as the days go by. The only thing that seems to sustain him appears to be Seokjin’s cooking and Taehyung’s warmth. Though it pains to see the two of them practically glued together everyday, Yoongi is happy that Hoseok is coping up with the pressure.

He dreams about him.

He dreams about that scene every night now. He can almost feel his skin as his fingers his face. And every night, the moment their lips touch, he wakes up in a cold sweat and tight boxers.

It is the day before Hoseok’s showcase. He looks like a nervous wreck. Yoongi gently his hair as he hums painfully. “You’ll be okay,” he whispers soothingly. Hoseok purrs as he presses his head into Yoongi’s fingers. He slams down on his starved shadow, even as he ignores the yearning in Hoseok’s half-lidded eyes. He continues to rub his hair, as he whispers words of encouragement.

And he rubs his hair and neck all night, until he’s out the door wrapped in Taehyung’s warm arms and possessive blue flames.

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

The night of the showcase, he’s late due to traffic and a bad studio session with one of the female artists in the agency. He’s sure he broke quite a few traffic rules on his way there.

As he makes his way to his seat in the front row, next to Namjoon; he’s pleased to see how hyped the crowd is for the boys on stage, dancing with overflowing passion and vibrancy. Their enthusiasm is palpable and their hard work translates into the smooth transitions of their moves, and their synchronisation with each other and the music. Their performance ends with a bang, some boys flying over each other, culminating in extremely aesthetic theatrics.

Yoongi smiles as he takes in the applause that vibrates through the stadium. He looks to his right to comment to Namjoon about how Hoseok’s hard work has payed off so well; but he stops when he sees Namjoon’s eyes transfixed on something at the corner of the stage. When he looks forward, he loses all function of his brain. The act isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

He watches in painful amazement as Hoseok makes his way on stage. He adorns a simple white shirt and blue jeans.  He starts to dance as the music flows. He wasn’t lying when he said that the music moves to Hoseok. Rather than the other way around. Yoongi is lost in the sheer beauty that is Jung Hoseok. The sounds disappear, the people on stage disappear, and it’s only Hoseok moving his body in sinful ways, that are simultaneously so pure and beautiful, it cuts like a knife and heals like a balm at the same time.

Yoongi, being the masochist he is, falls harder in love as he etches the scene onto his retinas for eternity. The shape of Hoseok’s body, twisting as it played with the music. The sheen of the sweat on his face. The smile that never dimmed.

Until it did.

It was only a second. But Hoseok winced as he flung his limbs like a boneless dance machine. He winced and his light flickered. There was something wrong. Yoongi bolted from his seat and ran towards the back of the stage, ignoring Namjoon’s cries.

He could hear the music dying down in tune with the increasing intensity of the applause. As he reached back stage, he saw Hoseok bowing to the now thundering applause, that felt as if it were tearing the world into two.

He could hear the others come in behind him. He could see the flowers in Taehyung’s hands, those purple flowers that Hoseok adored. He could hear Seokjin admonishing him for his sudden flight. He could see the worry on Jimin’s and Jeongguk’s faces. He could feel the anger emanating from Namjoon.

He could see the smile plastered on to Hoseok’s ethereally glowing face.

Time seemed to slow down as Hoseok turned around and walked back stage. His smile taking on a surprised curve. Yoongi ran past the dancers to reach him first. He opened his mouth in surprise. A startled “Hyung?” making its way past his heart shaped lips.

Before he collapsed and fell into Yoongi’s arms.