“Oh my god I can’t do this.”

Taehyung’s earlier confidence, albeit brief but strong, has all but dwindled now that they’ve taken the twenty minute trek from Jungkook and Jimin’s living room to the familiar apartment building. 

“Yes, you can.” Yoongi says, voice firm and unwavering- reassuring the other boy. He has his hand on Taehyung’s back, placed in the lower area where his alluring dimples are- not that he’s seen them. His other hand rests against Taehyung’s forearm and is squeezing it comfortingly.

Yoongi knows this is hard for Taehyung. Yes, he very much wants his dog back, but the thought of meeting his ex again after so long without speaking to him in months has the boys stomach in knots. After all, Taehyung was certainly smitten and head over heels in love with this man- of course it would be hard to go and confront him so abruptly like this.

“Tae, I know it’s hard but you need to do this for yourself.” He says.

Taehyung takes a step back and Yoongi tightens his hold, “No, Yoongi, I can’t do it. I’m too scared.” 

“Taehyung believe me when I say that I know this is hard, but I know you can do it.”

“No, I can’t. I’m a wimp, Yoongi. Me?” Taehyung turns to point at himself, “This guy right here? A huge loser wimp. You’re friends with a major scaredy cat who can’t confront his ex because he’s a loserish wimp.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s dramatic words and overuse of what seems to be his new favorite phrase. He’s just about to push the other towards the door himself when they hear footsteps come up behind them.

Taehyung is the first to see who it is, already turned around towards the noise. Yoongi instantly feels his stomach drop at Taehyung’s crestfallen expression. His mouth drops open and then closes, and his lips tremble slightly as his teeth grind together. Yoongi eventually turns to see who it is.

He’s surprised to see Hoseok, a dog in his arms, standing next to a taller man.

An alpha, with broad shoulders and perfectly done hair and nails.The man falters, but barely, at the sight of Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Taehyung, what a surprise.” Is all he says to them. 

If he says anything else, they don’t hear him, because Taehyung is dashing for the stairwell at the end of the hall and Yoongi is hot on his heels to make sure he’s okay.

Yoongi wonders, as he rushes to catch up the Taehyung running down the stairs, why Hoseok was there. He’s not mad, not by a longshot. From what Yoongi knows of the alpha that stood next to him, Taehyung’s ex, is that the two would be perfect for one another.

No, he’s irritated. He’s annoyed at the fact the two seemed so… domestic with one another. Dog in arm, both hand in hand with each other as they came up on the two people they’d both crushed just mere months earlier.

Most of all, though, Yoongi was worried about Taehyung, and how he would handle this.

| |

Yoongi opens the door to his room, an hour after leaving Hoseok’s apartment building. He’d left to go to the vending machines on the ground floor of the dorm building. The walk had been uneventful. A few people from the second and third floors loitered around the large living expanse, huddled up around a couple couches and talking. Someone had brought their laptop down and a movie played dully in the background of the groups chatter. 

A few spared glances at the sound of Yoongi opening the door to enter the lounge area from the stairwell, uninterested eyes flitting from his worn form belining for the vending machines and turning back to the few conversations at hand. He paid them no mind, though. He was just as uninterested in them as they were of him.

His fingers wobbled, his hands shaking, as he dropped the few coins into the small slot. They fell with a jarring clanking further into the machine. His eyes blindly looked at the options listed before he stabbed at one of the buttons, not sure of what he’d picked. His mind registered a green bottle and a clear one as they dropped to the opening with a thud .

He ambled back up the flights of stairs right after. The laughter from the group of people follows him all the way back to his dorm, echoing in his head as he opens the door. The bright light from the hallway clashes with the darkness of the room that greets him. His feet brush heavy on the floor as he steps in, setting the drinks onto the desk closest to him. 

Across the room, dim moonlight filters in through the opened window, casting a soft glow around the area, laying itself across their beds and over the carpeted floor. A figure huddles on the bed opposite Yoongi’s, small and hunkered in on itself.

Taehyung, much like the group of people downstairs, doesn’t register him as he walks in. Taehyung’s things- clothes, shoes, and everything in between- litters the floor and the room. He’s creeped his way into Yoongi’s life, overtaking his living space. 

He seems to have overtaken his thoughts as well.

Taehyung hadn’t spoken since they left Seokjin’s. The image of him and Hoseok had been jarring to Yoongi, but it had hit Taehyung differently. The thriving bakery scent dwindled from their surroundings, turning sour the minute Taehyung’s eyes had landed on his former lover. Yoongi didn’t have to be Taehyung to feel the gut wrenching punch the other received at the sight of the two together, hand in hand and scents spiked with a cloying happiness.

Right then and there Yoongi figured out two things: Taehyung falls hard and fast and he loves even harder. 

Yoongi kicks his shoes off for the night, shuffling over to their shared dresser and opening one of the drawers. He fishes for a shirt and shorts and finds a suitable pair. He strips himself of his clothes, the darkness of the room hiding him from his roommates already occupied gaze. He shrugs the shirt and shorts on with a carelessness he normally doesn’t inhibit, tossing the days clothes into a hamper.

He quietly patters to Taehyung’s bed, gingerly pulling himself onto the mattress and sitting next to the other boy. The other’s hair is wet from his supposed shower, a towel slung around his shoulders to catch the dripping moisture. He’s already got his night clothes on as well, sporting a simple tank top and sweatpants. 

As Yoongi settles next to him Taehyung instantly scoots his way closer, nuzzling into Yoongi’s side. This is their normal routine, whether they’re watching a movie, studying, or upset- like Taehyung is feeling now. Yoongi’s arm makes its way around Taehyung’s back, his hand resting on Taehyung’s hip and rubbing his side. Taehyung’s nose is cold against the skin of his neck as he buries himself deeper into Yoongi, but he doesn’t comment on it. The others scent is already spiking into a familiar warmth around them.

Just like the bakeries they visit after classes on friday’s together. 

Yoongi runs his hand up and down Taehyung’s side, whispering words of comfort to him.

“It’ll be okay, Tae. We’ll get Yeontan back another time.” He says.

Taehyung’s arm wraps around his middle, the other rested between them. His hair wet as it brushes his chin as he nods, “You promise?”

His voice is quiet, but Yoongi can already tell he’s feeling better.

“I promise.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, their breaths aligning. The moons light filters through the window, washing the room in a calmness the two have needed all day.

A hand fists itself into Yoongi’s shirt, before releasing and smoothing the fabric. Taehyung absentmindedly fiddles with the shirt, breaking the silence between them.

“Yoongi, can I try something?”

Yoongi looks down at him, meeting the top of his still wet hair. “What do you mean?”

“Please?” Taehyung asks, a pleading whine to his voice.

Yoongi pauses for a second, mulling over what Taehyung could be referring to. It could be anything in all honesty, and especially in a more vulnerable state he’s in at the moment.

“Of course, Tae. You can do anything you set your mind to.” Yoongi says.

Taehyung’s lips turn up at the corners, brushing the skin of Yoongi’s neck as he shifts in his hold, “Okay then, please don’t hate me.”

Yoongi doesn’t have time to ponder on the words. Taehyung’s hands are moving to either side of his face, eyes not leaving his as he inches closer and closer until his lips are pressing against Yoongi’s own. 

The room falls silent- the same calm as before falling over them again. Yoongi braces himself against the wall with his arm, the other fisted in Taehyung’s bedsheets. There lips are pressed together, unmoving. Taehyung’s hands are clammy against the soft skin of Yoongi’s cheeks. His thumb moves ever-so-slightly, and Yoongi moves his mouth open so minisculely he’s surprised Taehyung even notices. But the other does. And he doesn’t hesitate to finally move his parted lips against Yoongi’s.

Yoongi releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding the minute they mold together. Taehyung hovers over him, his hand moving from Yoongi’s cheek and down, brushing over the front of his shirt and wrapping around his back. Yoongi is pulled flush against Taehyung, the other nipping and biting at his bruising lips. 

The room is quiet save for their hurried breathing and the slightly obscene smack of their lips, their tongues and prodding into one another’s mouths. Taehyung is crawling further and further over Yoongi until Yoongi’s arm loses its hold on the wall and their both tumbling down onto the bed sheets. Their teeth clack together as they land, and Yoongi’s pretty sure he bit Taehyung’s tongue a bit, but the two don’t acknowledge it. 

The heady scent of arousal permeates Yoongi’s senses, the taste of copper in his mouth forgotten the moment the smell reaches his nose. Taehyung’s hands move grip Yoongi’s hips, sliding up and under the thin cotton of his shirt. They move along his torso, is large palms and long fingers working their way up and up. 

Yoongi hadn’t realized just how big Taehyung’s hands actually were until now, having them on him and gripping him with more strength he wouldn’t have thought possible to come from the younger. Taehyung detaches from Yoongi’s lips and moves down to his neck, a growl leaving him when he finds Yoongi’s scent gland. Taehyung bites down on the area, harsh and rough, just as his hand slips past Yoongi’s waistband and palms his , grip tight and bruising. 

Yoongi feels his twitch at the contact, a wave of arousal washing over him. His hips buck up into Taehyung’s, his breath leaving him for a moment. He tips his head back and bares his throat for Taehyung, letting the other have as much access as he needs to mark him up. Taehyung complies with a soft moan. He tongues along Yoongi’s neck, fat stripes all the way down to his shirt collar, his unoccupied hand hiking the fabric up to his armpits. Taehyung leaves the wet skin of Yoongi’s neck for a second only to bend down and take one of his hardened s into his mouth.

“Ah-” Yoongi lets out another breath, back arching.

Taehyung nibbles and the bud, tongue swirling every so often to ease the sensitive area. He moves to the other one after a few moments, and until he’s satisfied with his work. He pulls back with a brief look of satisfaction at the sight of the puffy and swollen nubs.

“Tae-”

Yoongi doesn’t have time to finish the word. Taehyung’s lips are back on his, hungry and overbearing. Yoongi’s hands move from his sides to wrap around Taehyung’s back, feeling the muscles move and contract underneath his fingertips. Yoongi’s hands slide up to fist in the younger’s damp hair when he feels Taehyung grind down on him- his hard and straining against his sweatpants. 

Yoongi expects him to undress himself, to at least pull both of their pants down to their ankles and him into the mattress like he thinks he will. It’s what Hoseok would have probably done, he thinks.

But Taehyung doesn’t. They stay fully clothed, both grinding against one another like they’re budding teenagers having a ual experience for the first time. Taehyung moans and groans into Yoongi’s mouth, and eventually into his neck when his pace starts to quicken., his teeth marking and marking Yoongi’s unblemished skin over and over again. Yoongi is a whining, stuttering mess beneath him, loving the feel of someone worshipping him and his omega after so long of being alone.

And boy, do Taehyung’s hands worship him. They’re an artists hands after all- that’s what they’re meant to do. They’re meant to worship art in its purest and truest form. And Taehyung says nothing but praises into Yoongi’s ear as waves of pleasure wash over them both. 

Or, that’s what Taehyung tells him later on when they’re laying in bed and under a fresh set of covers, clean and spent. Taehyung lays on his back, Yoongi resting his head on his arm.

“Ya know, I wouldn’t mind trying that more often.” Yoongi says into the quiet darkness.

He hears a chuckle come from beside him, and then a kiss to his temple.

“Go to sleep already, you're gonna need it. We’re gonna get my dog back for sure tomorrow