It’s been a full day, twenty-four hours of hurting, one thousand four hundred and forty minutes of anger, followed by self-pity, then back to anger. Yoongi hates the emotional roller coaster. He wants off this ride. Nothing has worked to make him forget, to wipe his memory clean, and he’s tried everything to erase from his mind the vision of Hoseok’s body pressed into Jimin’s. It’s not the only image he wants to delete; he also can’t forget the tremble of Jungkook’s lips against his own or the look of absolute astonishment on the boy’s face when Yoongi abruptly ended the kiss, cracking under the guilt of his actions.

Confusion surrounds him on every side. It’s a sea he is drowning in. Normally Min Yoongi proceeds slowly, cautiously, but his feelings for Jungkook had impacted him like a bullet, hard and fast. He didn’t have time to consider the next steps, and yes, maybe he makes bad choices when it comes to handling his feelings. How Hoseok ended up being the straw that broke the camel’s back is beyond Yoongi. They’ve always had a comfortable relationship, he’s always known he could count on the dancer in a pinch, in a moment of desperation or need. He could fall into Hoseok’s arms and find solace. But is it love? Is this need to make Hoseok pay, love?

Yoongi doesn’t know, he doesn’t, but today, before the day ends, he’ll have his answer.

Determined steps carry him down the hall, and trembling fingers knock on Hoseok’s door. He just wants answers, wants to know where he stands, where they stand. The argument is heated with angry words flying in every direction like missiles of mass destruction. Bombs of rage explode in the air, and the shrapnel of their sharp words cause wounds deep beneath the skin.

Freedom to say what they want is granted, and the war is loud and shameless as they are the only ones home. Maybe the moment was fated to happen, both of them telling their manager they were ill when he came to check on them in the morning. Maybe they planned it unknowingly, their subconsciouses somehow connecting. Maybe, just maybe.

Whatever the reason, as Yoongi pushes Hoseok against the wall, pressing his body against the man to keep him there in an effort to gain the upper hand in the battle, he decides he doesn’t care. Like this, with Hoseok pinned in front of him, images of Hoseok pushing into Jimin fill his head, and Yoongi sees red.

“Did you like it?” He bites out, spreading Hoseok’s legs apart with his thigh, making sure his knee lies flat against the dancer’s crotch.

“Like what? Get the off me!” Hoseok spits out, his hands braced on Yoongi’s chest, trying to push the man off even as his body unwittingly responds to Yoongi’s nearness. Yoongi doesn’t miss the twitch of the man’s against his leg.

“Pushing people into walls, do you like it? Tell me, is it better being the pusher or the pushee?” Yoongi asks, knocking Hoseok’s arm off his chest and presses himself flush against the man. A choked sound, like a desperate whine, escapes Hoseok’s lips, and Yoongi smirks as he a spit-slicked stripe along the man’s neck.

“Does he get you hard this quickly, Hope?” He drops his voice purposefully, enjoying the tremor that rocks Hoseok’s body.

“What the does it matter to you if he does?”

Hoseok is right of course, it shouldn’t matter, but it does. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong, what he’s doing. This wasn’t the plan, but they’re fighting, and it’s raw and emotional and if Hoseok isn’t the most beautiful when he’s angry, when he spits out words with venom and passion. Yoongi’s never been one to back down from a fight. He’s fought his whole life to get what he wants. He can’t back down. He won’t. He doesn’t know how. Retaliation, pushing back, pressing in, Yoongi knows how to fight dirty, and it works.

Now it’s Hoseok falling limp against him, Hoseok’s lips falling open hungrily, greedily on Yoongi’s tongue, and there’s no fight for dominance there never is with them. There is an understanding, a knowledge between their bodies, and in the back of Yoongi’s mind there is a voice saying Hoseok is his, now and forever 

. He owns the man.

The thought should be comforting, but it’s not. Jimin has touched, has tasted what belongs to him, and he needs to wipe that memory, that flavor from Hoseok’s tongue. The kiss is relentless as he scrapes his teeth along Hoseok’s wet muscle like a brillo pad, scrubbing away anything that isn’t him.  A shiver rips through Hoseok, a reminder to Yoongi that the man likes pain.

“F U…” Hoseok doesn’t finish the words. The dancer’s mouth falls slack when Yoongi bites into his bottom lip so hard the taste of blood is on his tongue.

The air is thick, and their breathing is heavy. A  mixture of ange