Hoseok is halfway across the pacific ocean when he sees Yoongi for the first time.

It’s dark in the cabin, and they’ve just turned off the lights since it’s the goddamn evening and people need to sleep for gods sake, but Hoseok’s bladder just isn’t co-operating.(or perhaps it was his fault for practically drinking everything remotely expensive that’s on menu just because.)

And so there he is, standing and shifting his weight between his legs and trying not to die of exhaustion after five brutal nights, straight from hell itself- of 4-hour sleeps and caffeine, feeling rather foolish as he waits for the toilet door to open (the person before him is taking his sweet time). He thinks about boring stuff like bills to pay when he gets back home and how to explain to his boss about why he was late for the first meeting overseas because apparently, jetlag was not a word in his dictionary. And let’s just say that he has no heart and enjoys seeing Hoseok squirm and look stupid.

Until something not-so-boring happens, and Hoseok feels arms tugging at his torso and lets out a short yelp as warm hands pull him close from one of the aisle seats at the back of the business class area. Stupid rich bastards. Hoseok attempts to struggle, but the arms are surprisingly strong and he doesn’t manage to do much except flail about in what he refuses to believe is in a pathetic way but it probably is. And so he resigns to his fate and lets himself be pulled backwards because why the hell not it’s dark and the hands are warm and the scent coming from the stranger is nice. A hint of citric and tingle of shampoo with some sort of masculine smell that’s somehow comforting.

Hoseok just hopes that it isn’t some sort of old creepy man because he’s too sober for that right now.

Until he’s pulled rather unceremoniously into the seat- or, should he say, squished into the side of the bed (the stranger has it on sleeping mode), and the arms wrap around him even tighter and he finds himself in a somewhat intimate and awkward position , back taut against the chest of the stranger; his breath warm on Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok feels goosebumps and he swears that it has nothing to do with the fact that this actually feels really, really nice.

But as nice as it is Hoseok is still not a fan of creepy old men. Or women. Actually he isn’t a fan of women at all; a fact that had gotten him kicked out of home at 19 (though his mother had come to her senses fairly quickly, fortunately. And they never spoke of it again.) So he flicks on the night light and cranes his neck to sneak a peek at the stranger’s face.

And gasps.

Because holy Hoseok is halfway across the pacific ocean after the 5 days of hell and now he’s face to face to a ing angel when he’s looking his absolute worst; hair unwashed and probably smelling really bad considering how he had been sweating like a pig while running to his gate. Great. Just great.

But the stranger- or Hoseok thinks, deserves a name more than “stranger” and decides to call him... a stewardess walking by (“Mr Kim wants tea! Without sugar!”) Sugar because damn his skin is pale and practically glowing under the dim light (Hoseok refuses to believe anyone’s skin could be that flawless) and the sleeping man has the sweetest smile on his face that Hoseok has seen in his life. And the platinum blond hair Sugar’s sporting should look- is meant to look gross and disgusting and fake- but somehow it makes him look even more ethereal, a golden halo complimenting his skin and pink lips that look so soft Hoseok couldn’t help but reach out to touch them. And caress his cheek while doing so. Sugar leans into his touch unconsciously and Hoseok’s heartbeat increases tenfold.

The toilet door opens and Hoseok’s about to untangle himself from those arms because as happy as he is with this position right now he doesn’t want to get his hopes up (he’s just met with too much disappointment lately alright) and there’re more important things to go for, like typing up the report his damned boss from actual hell itself would definitely force him to hand in, first thing tomorrow morning. And let’s not forget that Hoseok kind of needs to pee.

But there are dark circles under Sugar’s eyes and when he lets out a small, content sigh and pushes his nose and presses his face against Hoseok’s shoulder, and it just feels right; Hoseok feels more alive than he has been feeling for years and his blood sings and the less logical part of his brain orders him to stay. And the bed is nice and warm and it smells like Sugar and Hoseok’s eyes are heavy.

And so he tucks himself under the blankets, beside the stranger (even though half his body dangles dangerously at the side of the seat) and settles there.

Just for a few minutes.

A few minutes becomes half an hour and then an hour and Hoseok really, really needs to go to the toilet right now. And so he gently pries the fingers connected (rather uncomfortably, now) across his torso until a drowsy voice drawls from under the blankets.

“Look. You look tired as hell and you look like but you’re also kind of cute so why don’t you stay here and get some goddamn sleep because I’m tired as hell myself and I left my favourite pillow at the hotel so I need a new one.”

There’s a hint of satoori in the low timbre and Hoseok finds himself blushing for no apparent reason, and his heart sings because ohmygosh did he just say I was cute?!

“But... but Suga-”

“What Suga?” Okay, hot stranger’s definitely awake now. And oh Hoseok wants to crawl up and die of happiness because those eyes are deep brown and ing hell angel is even prettier when he’s awake (Hoseok doesn’t know that’s even possible), his chiseled features softened by the afterglow of sleep and one perfect eyebrow arched quizzically as he stares at Hoseok, who feels his brain emptying rather rapidly as he stammers.

Um, words.

“Uh... no-I-did-not-just-say-that” he begins, before mentally slapping himself. “And ah I kind of need to go to the toilet. Not like I don’t like cuddling and you’re right this is comfortable and” For s sake Hoseok just stop your blabbering you’re embarrassing yourself “But I really need to pee and-”

Sugar lets out a low chuckle and oh god his voice is just as perfect as his face; low and deep and smooth and Hoseok feels himself flushing even more but Sugar seems to like that, because he cups Hoseok’s face with his even warmer palms (Hoseok tries not to gulp) and whispers, right beside his ear,

“Promise you’ll be back?”

Hoseok barely manages a yes before Sugar lets go of his torso with what Hoseok hopes is a reluctant look on his face (though as he’s clutching at his chest in the bathroom he thinks he’s overthinking it), and he’s sliding down the door and grinning and shaking at the same time until it suddenly opens and Hoseok remembers that he forgot to lock the door.

And there Sugar is, running his fingers in the perfect mop of platinum blond with a perfect smirk on his face. Hoseok imagines his own fingers joining in, tugging at the silky hair shimmering in the dim light while Sugar looks at him with all the intensity in those dark eyes.

“I’ve changed my mind about letting you go,” he drawls, shoving Hoseok further into the bathroom before reaching behind him and locking the door.

Hoseok feels like he should resist when Sugar presses him against the wall, hands around his wrist in a makeshift shackle, but his arms fail him and his lips betray him as Sugar’s pink ones inch forward and Hoseok’s the one to initiate the kiss this time.

It’s sweet. Hoseok likes it. A lot.

“The name’s Yoongi,” Sugar murmurs huskily, and Hoseok feels somewhat proud when he notices that the smaller man’s panting just a little.

“Hoseok,” he grins.

And this time it’s Hoseok who fists the back of Yoongi’s shirt when he turns to leave the toilet.

“Promise you’ll have me back?”

“Always, Hoseok,”

Hoseok grins even wider at that, and Yoongi returns it with a dimpled smile of his own, and it takes all of his willpower not to pull in for another kiss at that because oh god this man is goddamn beautiful.

They’re halfway across the pacific ocean, flying 487 mph, 34000 feet above the ground, but Hoseok is soaring even higher above, head in the clouds and higher still, and when he returns to Yoongi’s seat (who tucks him in and snuggles into his shoulder like barely even five minutes ago); the small murmur of “I missed you” and the low voice humming an unknown lullaby next to Hoseok’s ear tells him that he’s not the only one with his head in the skies today.