Hunted, Chased, Thrilled

by Kookiequarrel

Chapter 2

Notes:

Hello everyone! This second chapter has been a long time coming but it took some time to finish it as I started it when I was still working on Respect. It was funny editing this project because I could clearly see when I had left off and picked the fic back up but hopefully after my edits it won't be as obvious. Needless to say, but it is highly advised you read the first instalment before you read this fic as it establishes the characters and some important details.

I wanted to add a short note that in this universe, alphas work a little differently. They do produce some slick. It's not a lot but it's enough to have anal sex without discomfort. They can't get pregnant and they do produce a lot less slick than an omega would. Why did I add this in? Because I wanted it to and it felt like it was hot :33 If you don't like this premise, please do click away.

Additionally, trigger warnings are in the tags. There will be graphic descriptions of violence. I don't think they're too graphic because it's not my strong suit to write violence, but it is there, so please be warned.

I hope you all enjoy this fic so much! I'm glad this is finally done because it's been on my mind for some time <3

Yoongi is in his home alone when someone knocks on the door.

 

He’s not expecting any visitors. In fact, that’s probably the last thing he expected right now. He’s been on his own for quite a few weeks. After Yoongi saw him, he travelled North back home and he’s- stayed. He’s been dormant, admittedly. After Hoseok left him alone that morning and Yoongi felt a possessing hunger seize his bones, he thought his first matter of business would be to chase after him once again, hunt him down again, like always, but he hasn’t. It’s not a fully formed decision yet – whether to stop, or to continue once the weather is manageable once again. Autumn has turned to winter and the rain and winds have grown harsher and relentless, so Yoongi has been forced to pause his pursuit either way. Currently, there’s a horrible storm pouring down rain that will last a week, from Yoongi’s experience. Now, it will only be storm after storm with little respite, and it will give him the needed time to think. By the time he’ll reemerge from the shadows, he knows he’ll have his mind made up. It’s alright that he’s unsure for now.

 

Namjoon has also moved on to other endeavours, which will definitely hinder Yoongi’s ability to make progress if he continues. Yoongi knows that Hoseok will soon be chosen as king regardless of if Yoongi is dead or not, and really, he doesn’t care. That was always Namjoon’s frustration – his inherent lack of concern with the crown. He’s soberly aware that he never truly cared. His only motivation to continue would be his incessant, near constant mind-numbing ache to see him again, the sickening memory of his skin, the lingering wisps of his touch that trail down Yoongi’s touch when he lays down at night. It simultaneously tortures and comforts Yoongi in his endless solitude. His face, lit up by the moonlight, glossy eyes full of lust and lips bit in hunger.

 

His sweetest torture, his sharpest joy. He wants to see him again. He drools at the thought like a starved rabid dog rearing back its lips to hunt down prey.

 

But yet, despite it all, Yoongi knows he needs to stop. He knows. It’s horrific. But he has come to the conclusion that really, given the circumstances, he should stop. His heart will bleed open if he doesn’t, and perhaps, just maybe, he still clings to some self-preservation. He’s unsure how far own survival instincts run, but his stillness speaks disquiet to him.

 

It’s much to think about. The isolation provides him much room to do just that. Thoughts lurk in his conscience even when he does other tasks, which has plenty of given he inherited a vast estate and he has no staff to take care of it. He prefers to not have people chauffeuring to him. He also values his privacy too much to share it even with the deafest and mute of servants.

 

Yoongi was absently thinking about the issue as he read a book, enjoying the calming crackle of the fire, when he hears the knock. It echoes through the large building, and it’s too loud to be missed. He never goes anywhere without a blade nearby, not even in his own home, so he places his hand over the knife hidden under his robes as he walks to the door.

 

Whoever disturbs him is not a friend. Only hate would force someone to travel so far to see him in such a desperate storm. Thunder crashes and wrathful rain soaks anyone who dares to step outside. Yoongi himself hasn’t stepped out except for the adjacent stables to feed the horse since the rain began last night.

 

Yoongi opens the door slowly, making sure to block his body with it, hand curling around the handle of knife. Yoongi is not surprised to see that the person is indeed not a friend, but also not exactly an unknown foe either. What the hell they are to each other is something Yoongi can’t grasp when he’s not using bitter exaggerations or making dreamy suppositions.

 

‘Hoseok?’

 

Hoseok is soaked to the bone, his long black hair sticking to his face and shoulders. He looks at Yoongi with stiff resentment, his eyes dark and half his face hidden by the shadows cast on him by the grey sky. Still beautiful. He grits his teeth as he says, ‘I didn’t know where else to go.’

 

Hoseok removes his hand away from his torso. Yoongi didn’t even notice he was clutching his shirt, but now he sees he was hiding a wound that is bleeding heavily. It’s hard to tell how large the wound actually is as the rain drives the pigment deeper into Hoseok’s clothes, creating a long splash of red that stands out against the black fabric. Yoongi is breathless. Someone else hurt Hoseok, and hurt him quite severely.

 

Yoongi grabs Hoseok by the arm and he pulls him into the hallway. Hoseok winces at the movement, and holds onto himself again. Yoongi shuts the door and watches as the blood coats Hoseok’s hands, the sticky bright red staining his pale palm. Yoongi would be angry if he wasn’t so desperate.

 

Yoongi guides Hoseok into his living room. He wants to pick Hoseok up, but Hoseok seems to be able to walk, even if he’s limping. When they enter the warm sitting room, Hoseok sees the couch and he makes a beeline for it, plopping down on one of the cushions clumsily. He groans when his body makes contact with the pillows. Yoongi follows him and he sees how his eyelids droop heavily as he lays down on his side. Worry dries up Yoongi’s throat as he notices how tired Hoseok looks.

 

‘Stay awake,’ Yoongi orders, shaking his shoulder. ‘You must stay awake. It’s not the time to rest.’

 

‘I’m tired,’ Hoseok responds, looking at the fireplace. ‘The travel was long. This is the first time I have a proper support to rest my body in over a week.’

 

‘Stay awake, Hoseok. You can rest later.’

 

‘I will.’

 

Yoongi doesn’t want to leave Hoseok alone, but he also has to fetch his medical supplies. The bathroom where Yoongi keeps his kit is not far, but still, Yoongi rushes there and grabs everything he needs – alcohol, bandages and some soothing balm which helps with the pain. When he comes back into the living room, he sees Hoseok is thankfully still awake, even if barely so, and he kneels by his side.

 

‘How long ago did this happen?’ Yoongi asks as he lifts up Hoseok’s shirt. The wound is deeper than he’d hoped. It’s a very nasty gash that cuts through the side of his waist, potentially two inches deep. It looks like it was done with a small knife. Yoongi worries he might not be able to do much without a healer’s help, and it will be impossible to get a healer to come down to his house in this weather. Yoongi takes a deep breath to steady his nerves.

 

‘An hour ago. I only know where you live,’ Hoseok says. ‘The rain makes it hard to find anywhere else. I don’t know this area well.’

 

An hour is a lot of time to lose blood. Yoongi feels Hoseok’s pulse and it seems to be steady enough. His scent is strong too despite being doused in musk from his sweat and the rain. Yoongi dabs a cloth with the alcohol and he applies pressure to the wound without warning. Hoseok hisses loudly, his body tensing with pain. His hand flies up and he clings onto Yoongi’s shoulder, his nails biting into Yoongi’s shirt.

 

‘You are terrible.’

 

‘You need to be patient,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’m trying to make it better.’

 

Hoseok bites his tongue and he doesn’t reply. It seems that in his pain, he came back to life and his eyes look less heavy, even if still weary.

 

Yoongi cleans the blood from Hoseok’s sticky skin and he rubs the soothing balm around his wound to help ease the pain. After the balm has had time to sink in, he carefully stitches the wound with some thread. Hoseok is silent through the process, but Yoongi knows he’s uncomfortable and he wishes he could make it better. He hopes the balm is numbing the area but he doesn’t want to force Hoseok to speak.

 

He’s as quick as he can be with the task. After, he applies some more of the balm and he wraps the bandages over Hoseok’s wound. He looks over to Hoseok’s face, and he sees Hoseok has his eyes closed and he looks asleep. Yoongi has a heart wrenching moment where he thinks Hoseok is gone and a knife lodges itself in his throat, but he places his fingers under his nostrils and feels the soft puffs of air. He is breathing steadily. Still fully alive then, just asleep.

 

That’s not too odd. Once the pain eased, his body naturally guided him to slumber. He must be exhausted.

 

Yoongi takes a deep breath. Thank god. That’s good. That’s very good. Yoongi lets himself sink into his knees and breathe normally for the first time since he saw Hoseok tonight.

 

He looks at Hoseok’s sleeping face. He will let him rest. Tomorrow is a better day for answers.

 

***

 

Yoongi has been watching Hoseok sleep for over an hour.

 

Yoongi brought Hoseok to his bedroom and laid him inside the covers after ridding him of his clothes, which were filthy with mud and blood. He wiped Hoseok’s face with a cloth, lit the fire and he made sure Hoseok was lying in a position that would not strain his neck. He thinks the covers are probably comfortable, or at least he hopes they are. He thought about scenting the pillows to hopefully calm Hoseok down when he wakes up, but he decided against it.

 

Yoongi checked Hoseok’s temperature and his breathing throughout the night, and he found them to be normal. No infection then, it seems, at least not for now, and no death either. Yoongi managed to sleep in short bursts in the guest bedroom, but then he just couldn’t bear it anymore. He had to sit and watch Hoseok sleep until he looks like he’s not going to randomly stop breathing or he wakes up. He feels calmer watching Hoseok and taking in his scent – mint and pine, rain-soaked forest and herbal mint leaves that have been left to dry in the sun. His scent is a lot clearer now, sharper too, and Yoongi feels content breathing it in. This is the longest he’s been able to enjoy Hoseok’s scent in a long time. He wishes it was under different circumstances.

 

It feels like nothing bad can happen to him if Yoongi watches him. If Yoongi was watching him, no one else would have stabbed him in the first place.

 

Yoongi wouldn’t have allowed it.

 

It’s the first kindling of morning when Hoseok blinks his eyes open. He takes a deep breath and looks disoriented for a second. He then sees Yoongi in the corner, and he tries to sit up with a start but he hisses loudly and clutches at his wound. Yoongi remains where he is, deeming it better to keep his distance for now.

 

‘Who did that to you?’ Yoongi rasps. There is no use for good mornings.

 

Hoseok shakes his head, leaning his back against the headboard. He still looks tired though he slept through the night peacefully. ‘What’s it to you?’

 

‘They almost killed you. That wound would’ve killed you if you had not found your way here, my lord.’

 

‘I shall leave as soon as I’m able. But I have lost my horse and my company, and this-’ Hoseok rubs the spot where the wound lies under the bandages as if that will do anything to ease the discomfort. ‘I don’t need your help.’

 

‘You wish that were the case. But it seems that you do indeed need my help.’

 

Hoseok seems outraged by this statement. ‘Just because I’m here does not mean I need your help. You were the one to lend it last night. You could have let me bleed to death.’

 

‘And perhaps I should’ve,’ Yoongi says with a smile. ‘You are rather ungrateful, my lord. Such temperament does not get you favours in this world.’

 

‘I don’t owe you anything. I hope you’re aware of that.’

 

‘I am,’ Yoongi says, standing. He walks over to Hoseok, ‘Let me see if your wound has closed.’

 

Hoseok’s shoulders are full of tension, his body almost contorting into itself. He doesn’t ease as Yoongi approaches. Yoongi smiles. ‘I could’ve killed you in your sleep if I wanted to.’

 

‘Your mind works in twisted ways.’

 

‘None more twisted than you begging for help and then spitting in the hand that saved you.’

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi for a moment longer, and then he lets his hands fall away from his stomach. Yoongi is careful in sitting down on the bed. He leans in, lowering the bandage to see underneath. Hoseok’s flesh is still deep purple, but the gash is closed and nothing is too black nor tender. It seems the worse has been evaded.

 

‘You’ll heal well. In a week, you should have full mobility.’

 

‘I should be gone by then.’

 

‘By which means? I have only my horse and I don’t wish to give it to you.’

 

‘I’ll walk to the next town over, purchase one there. You cannot keep me here.’

 

Yoongi doesn’t mean to laugh, but a chuckle escapes him regardless. ‘I wouldn’t dare. You aren’t in possession of your full capabilities if you think you can walk to the next town in this rain.’

 

‘The rain shall pass.’

 

‘Not here,’ Yoongi says, standing. ‘The rain is quite stubborn, almost as much as you. I wouldn’t stop you from trying, but walking such a distance in this weather might kill you of a far nastier condition than a cut.’

 

Hoseok glares at Yoongi. Yoongi didn’t think Hoseok would like his words either, but Hoseok’s eyes make it seem like he just threatened him. Yoongi finds it amusing but decides to not be too antagonistic.  

 

‘I’m going to break my fast. You’re welcome to join me if you so wish.’

 

‘I’m not hungry.’

 

‘You should eat if you don’t wish to die of starvation, my lord.’ Yoongi walks to the door. ‘I shall see you in a moment.’

 

Hoseok only huffs in reply. Yoongi thinks Hoseok might really try to go on into the rain, and he won’t stop him.

 

***

 

Yoongi eats his slice of bread as Hoseok stares at him. His face reflects a disgust with Yoongi, as if he’s the one who hurt him and made the torrential rain beat down against the windows. He might have done those things if he had known they would have led Hoseok to be in same room as him, but he hasn’t. So, Hoseok tantrum is quite childish in nature.

 

‘You can eat. You don’t have to just stare at me.’

 

‘You might poison me.’

 

Yoongi smiles, a chuckle gaining momentum in his chest, ‘I could. But I wouldn’t. If that’s your biggest fear, then I’m quite happy to share my bread with you.’

 

Yoongi extends the half-eaten slice towards Hoseok, who grimaces. ‘You’ve eaten from it.’

 

‘Don’t act so prudish. You’ve had closer encounters with my saliva.’

 

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

 

‘Your memory fails you now? Did the man not only cut you, but strike you across the head as well?’

 

Hoseok’s frown sours. ‘What happened shouldn’t have happened. I wish to forget it, and so should you.’

 

‘So you do remember. And that’s a very empty threat from an unarmed man. I might take your words more seriously if you had a knife at hand.’

 

Hoseok bites his tongue and in a fit of trembling anger, he picks up the nearby cheese knife and walks towards Yoongi like he intends to use it. Yoongi stays in his seat. He wouldn’t mind if the younger gave him another scar.

 

Hoseok hovers over him and points the tip of the knife under Yoongi’s chin, grabbing the collar of his shirt to restrain him. Hoseok’s eyes are bloodshot as he snarls, ‘Take me to the next town over so I can acquire a horse and leave.’

 

‘I will not do that.’

 

Hoseok’s anger sharpens like the blunt tip of the blade in his hand. Yoongi feels the edge more keenly against his skin. ‘And why not?’

 

‘Because I don’t see why I must make an hour trip to the nearest town, drop you off there and come back in the pouring rain when we can stay here, wait for the weather to clear and do the same thing. I don’t wish to get sick, and quite frankly, I don’t think my horse should be made to carry double a person’s weight in those conditions for your whim.’

 

Hoseok grits his teeth, his jaw building with tension. His scent is profusely bitter. ‘Excuses. I- You want to keep me here.’

 

‘I didn’t even bring you here. You came here yourself.’

 

‘I had nowhere else to go.’

 

‘Sounds like tough luck, then. It’s not my fault you came here, or that the weather is this way. And if you were trying to persuade me to make a sacrifice for you, then your current method is not the most persuasive.’

 

‘Why? Would you prefer I scar you? Kill you?’

 

‘If you kill me, I assure you, you will not find what you are looking for.’

 

‘I can steal your horse.’

 

‘You can steal my horse either way, but trust me, he won’t obey anyone but me. He’s stubborn. But you can try. As I said earlier, you can do as you please. But threatening me will not get me to bend to your will.’

 

Hoseok’s eyes are two dark pools of fury. He looks quite dishevelled in his rage, as if the feeling is messing up his hair and arousing sweat to his skin. His naked chest raises and falls with his laboured breathing and his fist tightens around Yoongi’s collar. Yoongi stares back at him, waiting for the penny to drop. When it does, Hoseok throws the knife away from Yoongi and unto onto the floor, where it catches onto one of the wooden planks.

 

‘Have it your way. But if you think you will see me again on my stay here, you’re sorely mistaken. If you attempt to come in my room, you will suffer the consequences.’

 

Yoongi wants to point out Hoseok doesn’t have a room, but he supposes the younger will pick one out for himself. Yoongi simply sits back as he watches Hoseok storm up the stairs, and then a moment later, a heavy door slamming shut.

 

Yoongi finishes his bread and his coffee. He thought Hoseok’s stay here would be turbulent but perhaps not this extent. He’ll just have to make sure the younger doesn’t steal his horse or starve, which seems like an unlikely achievement at this point.  

 

***

 

As promised, Yoongi does not see Hoseok for the rest of the day. Yoongi doesn’t mind that. What he does mind is that Hoseok is yet to eat, and he’s injured. He’s unsure when Hoseok had his last meal, but it’s likely it’s been already a full day.

 

At around 6pm, Yoongi knocks on what he figures is the room Hoseok decided to stay in as it’s the furthest from his. That, and he can hear the fire crackling through the door. Hoseok doesn’t respond to his knock, but Yoongi doesn’t need him too.

 

‘I bought you food. Bread, cheese, chicken soup and some apples. I also have brought you some water.’

 

‘I’m not hungry,’ Hoseok’s muffled voice says through the door.

 

‘I’m sure you are. I will leave the food here for you to take when you’re ready. I only warn you that the soup will get cold quite quickly.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t answer. Yoongi doesn’t need him too. He simply sets down the tray on the floor and steps away from the door.

 

‘I also placed some things for you to tend to your wounds. Good night, Hoseok.’

 

Yoongi makes his way down the stairs, to where his own dinner awaits him. It takes about five minutes, but his ears perk up when he hears the door to the bedroom opening ever so carefully and then closing again.

 

Yoongi smiles to himself. Men might see themselves as mighty, but hunger always comes back to weaken them.

 

***

 

Yoongi only sees Hoseok two days later.

 

He thought it might be longer, or that the weather might clear in the middle of the night and he would never see Hoseok again. But Hoseok warned him to not go into his self-appointed room and Yoongi figured that poking the bear might not be the best way the get him to calm down. And for once, Yoongi does want him calm. It would be a different story if he was not injured, but he is, and Yoongi doesn’t want to push him to the point where he might do something stupid. He’s already surprised Hoseok has had enough sense to not steal his horse, who’s still safe and sound in his stable.

 

Yoongi does his part and brings Hoseok his meals three times a day, along with medical supplies, says good morning and good afternoon, and leaves. He comes back an hour later to find the tray once again on the floor outside, all the food eaten, and dirty bandages neatly folded on the side. Yoongi worries about the amount of blood he sees on the white fabric, and even more about the yellow stains. But he knows that trying to start a conversation is no use.

 

Given this lack of contact, he is surprised when he sees Hoseok walking along the west wing of his property, which is far from his bedroom and closer to Yoongi’s. Hoseok has his blood stained shirt wrapped tightly around himself, despite Yoongi providing him with clean clothes. His hair is mounted into a tired bun at the top of his head and his face is sweaty. He looks tired.

 

He sees Yoongi and a violence that wasn’t there just a moment ago rises to the surface. A wounded animal that still has enough energy to bite. Yoongi wouldn’t mind being bitten if it meant getting a little bit of Hoseok, but he also doesn’t want to undo all the progress they’ve been making. Yoongi stays where he is.

 

‘Hello.’

 

‘Where is the bathroom?’ Hoseok asks, also keeping himself at distance.

 

‘I thought you knew. Where having you been doing your necessities?’

 

‘I found a room with a toilet, no bath.’

 

‘I see. You’re in the wrong place; the bath is downstairs. I can show you the way.’

 

Hoseok’s face is rigid, almost like he wants to give in but won’t allow himself to. Then, he says, ‘Just because you’ve been feeding me, doesn’t mean that I trust you. I don’t want to be near you.’

 

‘Then you can continue to wander around. And I suppose you can figure out a way to heat up the water yourself too, if you don’t want to take a freezing bath. And you can also die of your infected wounds.’

 

‘My wounds are not infected.’

 

‘They are. There is pus in your bandages. You’re not cleaning them properly. I could help you, but if you are stubborn enough to die in your pride, then go ahead.’

 

‘You just want me to be in vulnerable position.’

 

‘If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now, wouldn’t I? In your sleep, in your food.’

 

‘I’m not stupid enough to think that is your aim.’ Hoseok responds, his voice sharper.

 

‘Then what is my aim?’

 

‘To take advantage of me.’

 

Yoongi wants to laugh, and a chuckle does escape before it dies right at his throat. The bitter smile remains on his lips. ‘I have never taken advantage of you. Everything we have done, you wanted to happen. You seem to forget your desires as soon as your consciousness comes back to bite you.’

 

‘You don’t know me to be speaking so confidently about me.’

 

‘I know you too well. That’s why you despise me.’

 

Hoseok almost growls, his scent spiking and souring. Yoongi inhales, taking in the scent, and exhales slowly. He feels an instinct to growl as well, but he suppresses it.

 

‘The bathroom is the second door once you go down the corridor that leads to the kitchen. I’ll go warm up the bath for you. You can go in a few minutes. Then I will check on your wounds, and I will do it whether or not you want me to. I’ll bring clean clothes with me.’

 

Yoongi turns to leave before Hoseok can argue. For someone so mouthy and bossy, he sure needs to be commanded to do the right thing.

 

***

 

Yoongi walks into the bathroom. Hoseok is still in the bathtub, his wet hair brushed away from his face. The whole room smells like lavender, and Hoseok’s scent doesn’t overpower it, which means he’s calm enough. Maybe he has surrendered himself to this.

 

Yoongi walks up to him and sets the clothes in a pile on the counter next to the sink. Hoseok doesn’t look at him, but Yoongi doesn’t need him to. He sits down on the edge of the tub and looks at the scar that is visible above the water. It’s red and yellow, slightly swollen and almost throbbing. It’s definitely infected.

 

‘I’m going to need to cut off all this and pour some strong alcohol on it.’

 

‘Do as you must.’

 

‘It’ll hurt a lot.’

 

‘I can take it.’

 

Yoongi exhales and reaches for the supplies he brought, which sit on top of the clothes. He takes the knife in his hand carefully, his grip firm. Hoseok tenses up, but when Yoongi approaches him with the weapon, he doesn’t recoil.

 

‘I’ll do it quickly.’

 

Hoseok nods, and Yoongi grips the skin above the wound tightly. He takes a deep breath and with a swift movement, he quickly cuts off the yellow trim of the scar that holds the infection. Hoseok yelps loudly and his breathing visibly quickens. So that he doesn’t have to suffer twice, Yoongi douses a cloth in alcohol and applies it to the wound immediately, applying pressure. Hoseok groans again, and when he looks at Yoongi, his eyes are almost fearful. Not of Yoongi, but of the pain.

 

‘Shh, you’re alight,’ Yoongi whispers. ‘You’re alright. It’s over now, it’s all done.’

 

Hoseok takes deep trembling breaths, and he nods, settling back into the tub. Yoongi holds the cloth for him, and throws the knife into the sink so it’s no longer near Hoseok, a visible sign that it is done. Hoseok swallows visibly and his expression becomes guarded once more. His eyes are still dark with tiredness. He looks better now that he’s clean, but he’s still not sleeping properly. Yoongi hates how much Hoseok allows his pride to swallow him.

 

‘You need to disinfect the wound every two hours until it seals properly. Make sure you take regular baths too. Are you done washing yourself?’

 

Hoseok nods.

 

‘Then come out so I can bandage it up.’

 

‘I have nothing to cover myself with.’

 

‘Nothing I haven’t seen before,’ Yoongi says, though he adds no humour to the words.

 

Despite the truth to his statement, Yoongi stands, making sure Hoseok is holding the cloth now. He reaches for one of the towels in the linen closet and hands it to him.

 

‘Dry yourself. I’ll bandage you up and you can sleep. I’ll bring you food later.’

 

Hoseok nods, taking the towel in his free hand. He looks down at Yoongi, his eyes dancing around Yoongi’s features and Yoongi thinks he might say ‘Thank you.’ Or something else that is kind, but he remains silent. Yoongi is alright with that too.

 

In his silence, Hoseok is thankful. He knows that.

 

***

 

The next time Yoongi sees Hoseok is that very same night. Yoongi sets the tray on the floor as it is custom and knocks on the door.

 

‘Here’s your food. Good night.’

 

Yoongi turns around to leave but he hears the door open. Yoongi is surprised and he turns around. Hoseok is dressed in the clothes Yoongi gave him and he looks better, his skin plumper and his eyes not so dull. His hair is twisted in a simple bun and the reflection of the candle in his hand shines across his eyes. Simply breath taking.

 

‘I would like to drink something else that is not water. Could you give me some wine?’

 

Yoongi nods. ‘Sure. It would be easier for you to drink downstairs with me.’

 

Hoseok’s face sours. ‘I don’t wish to dine with you.’

 

‘And I don’t wish to have an ungrateful guest in my home.’

 

‘I wouldn’t have to be a guest if you just-’  

 

‘We have talked about this before. We will not keep having the same conversation. As for the wine, you can come downstairs.’

 

Yoongi turns around and descends the stairs. He expects to hear the closing – slamming – of a door, but instead he hears an exhale, the clatter of a tray being picked up and gentle footsteps. Yoongi silently guides Hoseok to the dining room. Hoseok takes a seat at the opposite end of the table – the furthest seat to Yoongi’s. Yoongi walks to the shelf where he keeps his crockery and takes out the wine he has a glass of every night from the closed cabinet. He pulls off the cork, which is only halfway in, and pours them both a thumb’s measure in two glasses. He brings Hoseok his serving and Hoseok takes the glass with a good dose of frustration stamped on his face.

 

‘You must have your way about everything, don’t you?’ Hoseok asks, bringing the wine to his lips.

 

Yoongi smiles. ‘I could say the same about you.’

 

Yoongi sits down on his chair, where his dinner already laid out for him. The house is completely silent, so their breaths, sips and the scraping of their chopsticks against the porcelain of the plates is almost deafening. Yoongi doesn’t mind it though – he can smell the other alpha’s displeased scent in the air, and he enjoys his frustration. It’s almost a meal in itself. It’s particularly pleasant because Hoseok could leave, and he doesn’t. Yoongi finds Hoseok’s compliance as intriguing as his disobedience.

 

‘Why did you have to live somewhere where it rains so much?’ Hoseok asks suddenly. Yoongi reckons he is far more uncomfortable with the silence than Yoongi.

 

‘It’s not my fault my family decided to set up roots here. My mother always told my great-grandparents were very fond of the sea air and the cold. There are people who love that sort of stuff.’

 

‘It’s dreadful.’ Hoseok brings the food to his lips. He chews as if the food has offended him, but Yoongi knows this is not about the food. ‘I hate it here.’

 

‘I didn’t expect otherwise.’

 

Hoseok sips the wine again, but then he seems to change his mind and just keep drinking until the glass is empty. Yoongi takes a measured drink from his own glass, sliding the bottle closer to Hoseok.

 

‘Help yourself.’

 

Hoseok sets down his glass with a displeased look. ‘I don’t want anymore. I’m not hungry.’

 

‘Does your anger fuel you?’

 

‘No. If anything, it deprives me of freedom.’ Hoseok stands, and Yoongi doesn’t bother watching him leave. He does pour himself some more wine however, for his troubles.

 

Yoongi finishes his dinner and takes both trays to the kitchen. He clears up the dishes, packing Hoseok’s food and putting it away so it can be eaten the next day. When he retires into the sitting room, where he likes to read and listen to some music before going to sleep, he sees the younger there. Yoongi didn’t realise Hoseok didn’t retire back to his room.

 

Hoseok has his clothes wrapped tightly around his body and he’s staring at one of the shelves. Yoongi approaches him slowly. Hoseok turns to look at him, and he doesn’t seem surprised by his presence which means that he heard him walk in. Yoongi is further surprised he doesn’t seem mad at his mere existence for once.

 

‘You still have this?’ Hoseok asks.

 

‘Have what?’

 

Hoseok picks up the item slowly from the shelf. It’s a rock, a small grey rock that fits in the palm of Hoseok’s hand. It’s smooth on one side but there is a nasty ragged edge on the other. It is not particularly pretty nor valuable except for the significance it holds.

 

They found the rocks together when they went horse riding to see the Great Waterfalls of Kanara. It’s a hard site to get to as the forest is dense and encounters with bears is not uncommon. But Hoseok had recently turned eighteen and he wanted to go on an adventure, with Yoongi, of course. After a whole day of travelling through trees and trying to figure out the map they had purchased from the merchant, they stumbled across the great grove leading to the waterfall. However big they thought the cascade might be, the real sight was infinitely bigger and more marvellous than they could have thought. Myth states that the waters provide eternal youth and seal the bond of those who dip their bodies in the pond at the base of the waterfall together, and they didn’t hesitate to take off their clothes and jump in. It was a joyous, youthful event, something that should have been silly and yet it felt absolutely momentous.

 

They found the stones as they dried off on the grass under the blazing sun. Two grey rocks that had clearly been one before, before being broken apart by some doomed fate. Hoseok took one half, and Yoongi the other. Yoongi, at the time, stupidly thought they would be friends forever, together for as long as they could be. He was wrong, but such shining memories demand a cruel type of irony to be bestowed upon them.

 

‘Yes. I assume you don’t have yours.’

 

‘I-’ Hoseok’s expression softens. ‘I do. In my parents’ estate. I haven’t been back there in a long time.’

 

‘I see.’

 

The fire crackles and Hoseok wraps his fingers around the stone. He feels the ragged edge with his index. ‘It was silly, wasn’t it? To keep these rocks.’

 

‘I don’t think so.’ Yoongi approaches Hoseok carefully. It’s the first time he lets Yoongi approach him without a massive scowl on his face or recoiling or threatening him. ‘I think it’s good to keep memories. No matter what happened since.’

 

Hoseok places the rock back on the shelf and he averts his eyes. ‘Memories aren’t any good now.’

 

‘Maybe not for you.’

 

Hoseok stares at Yoongi. Yoongi holds his gaze. Hoseok’s expression is hard to make out but eventually he turns around and walks away.

 

‘I’m going back to my room.’

 

‘Good night.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He walks away and up the stairs. Yoongi picks up the stone and looks at it for a moment before he retires too. He doesn’t have the energy to read.

 

***

 

‘I’m bored,’ Hoseok says to Yoongi. Yoongi is sat in the living room, reading a book. He heard Hoseok coming down the stairs but he didn’t expect for the younger to speak to him. They didn’t speak to each other the entirety of the previous day.

 

‘That’s a shame.’

 

‘You must have books somewhere, or a chessboard.’

 

‘I’m afraid I don’t have a chessboard but I do have books in my office.’

 

‘I assume that door would be locked?’

 

‘Indeed.’

 

Yoongi is not reading the words in his own book anymore. He’s just trying to be a nuisance by feigning ignorance to Hoseok’s true wishes and making him ask for it explicitly. After all, Hoseok’s boredom is nothing to him. He looks better and has confirmed to Yoongi is wound is indeed healing, so Yoongi doesn’t feel the need to pander as much as he did before.

 

Yoongi can feel Hoseok throw daggers at the back of his head. Yoongi continues to pretend reading until Hoseok finally exhales a harsh, ‘Well?’

 

‘Yes?’

 

‘Are you going to show me there?’

 

Yoongi chuckles. ‘Can you ask nicely?’

 

‘Must you always test my patience?’

 

‘Yes.’ Yoongi looks up from his book and turns around on the couch. Hoseok stands in the hallway by the stairs. He has his hair in a ponytail, a true sign he’s feeling better as he was able to do so on his own. His eyes are dark and mad and his cheeks lightly flushed. He gets worked up so quickly.

 

Hoseok exhales and swallows. Then he says, ‘I would appreciate if you could take me to the library.’

 

Yoongi is happy enough with that. He sets his book aside and stands. ‘Follow me.’

 

They walk side by side to the office space. Hoseok doesn’t keep his distance, and Yoongi can smell his scent – it’s relaxed, pleasant. Around him, Hoseok’s scent is always slightly altered – angry, resentful, aroused, but this is his pure, unaltered scent. Yoongi feels a violent need to scent Hoseok, press him against the wall and lick his neck, bite his skin, inhale so deeply his smell becomes entrenched in Yoongi’s bones. Yoongi reckons his need is aroused by the fact that Hoseok is barely limping anymore and looks stronger once more. He looks like he can be taken apart and put back together again.

 

But Yoongi doesn’t scent him, push him again the wall and kiss him. Unlike what Hoseok thinks, Yoongi largely doesn’t give into his urges.

 

They reach Yoongi office, protected by a sizable walnut door. Yoongi fishes for the key from his pocket and opens the lock with ease. He swings the door open and then steps aside.

 

‘After you,’ Yoongi says, gesturing for Hoseok to step in. Hoseok rolls his eyes and walks into the room wordlessly.

 

Hoseok doesn’t spend much time analysing his surroundings – he marches straight to the wall-length pine bookshelves full to the brim with several different types of books with worn spines and yellowed pages. These books were his parents’ – as was most of what is present in the – but he doesn’t feel particularly protective as Hoseok scans for a title that might interest him. If it anything, it would be good for someone to read them instead of them rotting into dust.

 

Yoongi hangs by the desk as Hoseok picks up a book he seems to like. He opens the cover carefully with his nimble fingers, the joint cracking due to disuse. Yoongi recognises the book as soon as he sees the circular gold-leaf engravings contrasted against the scarlet quilting cotton on the cover.

 

‘That was my father’s favourite.’

 

Hoseok glances up from the book and seems to momentarily panic. He lifts his arm to slot the book back into its place. ‘Oh, sorry, I-’

 

‘No, it’s alright. You can read it,’ Yoongi reassures, lifting a hand. He shrugs. ‘It’s a good story, about having strong morals even when the world tempts to you astray. My father liked those sorts of moralist novels. I don’t have a taste for them myself.’

 

Yoongi looks at Hoseok. The younger still looks unsure about holding the book, his eyebrow twitching slightly.

 

‘It would be good for someone to read it finally.’

 

‘Are you quite sure?’

 

‘Of course. I’m sure you’ll be careful with it.’

 

‘Yes, I will.’

 

They look at each other for a moment. Yoongi then asks, ‘Do you wish to look for another?’

 

Hoseok shakes his head. ‘No, this is fine for now.’

 

Hoseok turns and moves towards the door. He holds the book with both his hands as if he’s worried it will fall down and dissolve into a puddle if he holds it with just the one. Hoseok walks out of the office and Yoongi follows him, locking the door before they cross the hallway once again.

 

They walk in silence for a moment, and then Hoseok’s voice echoes in the hallways: ‘Is this all you do? Eat and sit by the fire, reading?’

 

‘Sometimes I listen to music too or write. And I have chores to do.’

 

‘That’s not what I mean,’ Hoseok says. His voice has a hard edge to it. ‘Do you do no- work?’

 

‘I do, of course. I have to manage some of the businesses my parents passed down to me, balance the books, and of course-’ Yoongi looks at Hoseok, stopping in his tracks. It forces Hoseok to stop too, the grey light filtering through the windows framing the sharp contours of his face. The rain drops pattering against the window creates the effect of light swimming through his eyes. He looks like a painting. ‘Trying to find you.’

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi, his expression resting somewhere between a balance of acceptance and resentment. His scent is a little sour, but then it goes back to normal again.

 

‘I haven’t seen you in months.’

 

‘That would probably be the case, since I ceased trying to look for you.’

 

Hoseok frowns, almost like he’s outraged. ‘You have?’

 

Yoongi nods. ‘I have. The weather makes it impossible to get anywhere and you will be king regardless, so.’ Yoongi looks at Hoseok. He doesn’t feel like delving into the deeper reasons when Hoseok already looks annoyed. It would be a waste of his breath. Instead, he says, ‘It seems like I didn’t have to try though, because you came to me.’

 

‘I was forced to due to circumstances. Don’t think for a second I want to be here.’

 

‘I don’t imagine you do.’

 

‘And- and don’t think for a second I believe you,’ Hoseok says, taking a threatening step towards Yoongi. His scent is sharp and displeased, as are his eyes. ‘You just want to justify why you haven’t been able to find me. I don’t believe for a second you stopped being vengeful.’

 

‘Then, you can go ahead and think that,’ Yoongi responds. He keeps walking down the corridor, leaving Hoseok behind. ‘I won’t try to change your mind. But you should remember I’m very skilful at finding you whenever I want to.’

 

Yoongi looks back at Hoseok. ‘You have the scars to prove it.’

 

Yoongi goes back into the sitting room. There is a moment of silence and then he hears storming steps going up the stairs and a door slamming. Yoongi wishes he could be civil with Hoseok, but every time they have a respite, the younger forces sourness to rise to the surface. Yoongi won’t be a loser in their game of wits if Hoseok wants to continue being unpleasant. Yoongi has already done more than enough for him.

 

***

 

Yoongi is half-asleep in bed when he hears a loud clatter outside his door.

 

Yoongi doesn’t sleep very well when the weather is so torrential. The sound of the pattering on the window is soothing for one or two nights, but eventually the lack of physical activity and fresh air weigh on his body. He feels bloated and there’s a ruminating feeling of restlessness that doesn’t let him settle into his mattress. He was considering pacing around his room to see if he could alleviate the sensation, but the sound provides a needed reason for him to stand up. He wraps his robe around himself and pads over to the door.

 

He thought maybe one of the paintings fell from the wall where it was mounted – it has happened a few times and it’s always a pain to position them once again on the hook, particularly if the hook needs to be replaced. He’s somewhat surprised to see it’s actually Hoseok. He’s bending down to collect a series of dry logs that have clearly fallen from his arms on the floor. The younger winces, and looks particularly annoyed when Yoongi opens his door.

 

‘I don’t need your help.’

 

‘I didn’t know if you needed my help or not before I opened the door to see what the commotion was.’

 

‘It’s not a commotion. I just needed to get these logs,’ Hoseok groans as he tries to bend down again and winces once more, clutching his side. ‘These damned things! And I’m probably staying in the coldest room in this goddamned place, and I’ve gone through all the logs on the rack, and I needed more and- which kitchen doesn’t even have a scullery with all the firewood-’

 

Yoongi bends down and he picks up the logs one by one. There are four in total, and he sees why Hoseok struggled to carry them – they are rather large, and if the weather was better Yoongi would have chopped them into smaller pieces. He had some cut-up bits in the cellar, but he’s not bothered to go there now.

 

Hoseok stares at Yoongi like he’s actively irritating him, but Yoongi does not react. He only walks down to Hoseok’s room, which is another few minutes of awkward silence between them as it’s an entirely different part of the house. Once they reach the right corridor, Yoongi sees the younger has left the door ajar, so Yoongi only has nudge it with his elbow for the entrance to swing open.

 

As expected from Hoseok’s despair, the fireplace is dark, only a small flame still flickering from the burnt ashes. The lingering air in the room is cold and condensation runs down the windows. This might not be the coldest room, but Yoongi remembers the crack in one of the windowpanes that does allow cold air in. Not the best room to pick.

 

There’s a single candle lit on the nightstand, so most of the room is shrouded in darkness. Yoong is still able to navigate his way to the fireplace as it’s free of obstructions. He walks to the rack next to the fireplace and lays the logs one by one, freeing himself from the burden in his arms. He hears the door shut and Hoseok’s silent footsteps towards his bed. The soft thud hints he’s sat down.

 

Yoongi takes the smallest piece of wood, and after clearing the ambers with the fire poker, he sets it down right in the middle of the firebox. He takes the box of matches propped up on the mantel, and lights one, throwing it in as well. Since the log is large and dense, it takes a while for the flame to burn through the bark and start a nice, hearty fire. Yoongi sets the fire poker down by the pilaster and turns around to Hoseok.

 

‘That should keep you warm.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t respond. Yoongi can see his breaths are deeper than usual, and his hand twitches by his side. His face is very still, and his scent is withdrawn, as if he’s hiding. Yoongi walks over to him, but keeps himself at a distance.

 

‘Let me see it.’

 

‘I want to sleep.’

 

‘I doubt you’ll be able to sleep if your wound is bleeding.’ Yoongi sits down on the bed, but he places his hands on his knees. ‘The wound is at an awkward angle for you to take care of it yourself, isn’t it?’

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply. Instead, he huffs out a breath and slips off the robes wrapped around him. He lifts his sleeping shirt, and reveals the wound by his side - and as Yoongi expected, a deep crimson hue is beginning to stain the white cloth. Yoongi stands.

 

‘I’ll go get the supplies.’

 

Hoseok nods. Yoongi makes quick work of going to the bathroom, and coming back with alcohol and clean cloths. Hoseok is laying down on the bed when he returns, the pain bleeding through his features. Yoongi doesn’t like to see him like this, and he doesn’t let him linger longer than needed in this state. He removes the old cloth, inspects the wound - it is healing well, but a small section has ripped open, probably from Hoseok overstretching himself in his pursuit of fire logs. Yoongi cleans the area, applies a numbing cream to the area, and replaces the bandages. As the cream sits, Hoseok’s expression eases and he takes a deep breath.

 

‘Next time, just tell me what you need.’

 

‘I wasn’t going to wake you up in the middle of the night.’

 

‘You knew you were running out of wood during the day. Knowing you, you purposefully waited to go search while I was asleep so you wouldn’t be seen.’ Yoongi closes the balm container. ‘You always make things harder for yourself than they need to be.’

 

Hoseok frowns. ‘I don’t. You simply don’t understand.’

 

‘I thought you were the most ardent believer that I’m stubborn and prideful. Given that, you should assume I do understand.’ Yoongi stands up. ‘Try to sleep on your good side. And from now on, I want to see your wound every day.’

 

Hoseok glares at Yoongi pointedly. ‘You most certainly will not. There is no need for you to.’

 

‘You can’t reach it properly. It’s easier for me to have a look at it. Do you want to get better and have the ability to leave, or not?’

 

Hoseok clenches his jaw. He lowers his shirt over his waist and mutters, ‘You’re the most awful man.’

 

‘I’ve done nothing but care for you. Is that what the most awful man does?’

 

‘You’re forcing me to be here.’

 

‘This again!’ Yoongi feels a flash of frustration temporarily blind him. He wasn’t aware there has been anger building in him until now, but he supposes there is. Hoseok can be so completely infuriating. ‘We keep going over the same points again, do you not get tired? You’re the cruel one between us. You’re making this situation worse than it needs to be simply because I must be the villain in your imagination. I have sheltered you, clothed you, taken care of you, I- I would’ve been far worse, far more despicable, if I sent you out with an open wound in the torrential rain where you would’ve been soaked to the bones and most likely fallen severally ill.’

 

Hoseok sits up. His eyes are dark and passionate, an expression that brings out his beauty. ‘Do not pretend that you are doing me a favour! You have always wanted to ensnare me, that has been your single aim for an entire year.’

 

‘If I was to act out the aim that I have been working towards for the past year, you’d be dead right now,’ Yoongi growls. He inhales harshly through his nose, and turns away. His heart pounds in his ears and he doesn’t quite understand why he got so mad all of a sudden. He’s used to Hoseok’s hatred of him, he enjoys it too - passion is passion, afterall. But he just- it’s just frustrating, so incredibly gut-wrenching sometimes. He knows he shouldn’t make things worse by saying he was working towards killing Hoseok, but the words leave his mouth far too quickly. He just wants to hit Hoseok where it hurts for once since Hoseok loves to aim arrows at him every single time they’re together.

 

Hoseok lets out a small growl, a sound that makes Yoongi’s wolf stir in his chest in a strange way, like he’s digging into the flesh of Yoongi’s lungs. Yoongi takes a deep breath, and he can smell Hoseok clearly - tart mint, smoky pine, he’s mad and he’s- he’s also-

 

Hoseok is tugging at Yoongi’s wrist and kissing him before Yoongi can even understand what is happening. Yoongi growls against Hoseok’s soft lips as the younger grabs a fistful of hair and bites his bottom lip. Yoongi moans and Hoseok licks into his mouth filthy, like he’s trying to taste the back of his teeth. He kisses Yoongi like he is trying to suffocate and devour him all at once, and Yoongi enjoys how light-headed it makes him feel, how confused he feels by Hoseok’s sudden change in mood, by how much he flips the switch. He adores when Hoseok makes him fucking stupid.

 

‘You change your mind rather quickly-’

 

‘Be quiet.’ Hoseok orders, his voice raspy and smothered with contempt. Yoongi wants to keep talking just to annoy him, but Hoseok covers his mouth with his own again. He grabs Yoongi’s shirt tightly in his fists, pulling him with brute force towards him, and then towards the bed. Yoongi lands on the mattress, his body bouncing with the springs, and he stares openly at Hoseok’s soft and sharp features framed by the growing fire in the mantel and the small flame of the candle. His hair frames his face, long black curtains brushing against his high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes.

 

Hoseok kneels down on the mattress. He reaches for the hair band and on the nightstand and gathers his hair in one hand, quickly folding the length into a bun at the base of his neck. Yoongi wants to ask why he put up his hair, but he doesn’t have time to, because Hoseok kisses him again.

 

Yoongi doesn’t understand this sudden shift in mood, but he doesn’t find it in himself to enquire very deeply about it. Hoseok is strange, but he’s kissing Yoongi, so it doesn’t really matter. Yoongi wants Hoseok to kiss him – he has needed Hoseok to kiss him again since the first time he did it, and the last time, and ever since he saw him again at his door bleeding out. He can’t forget how his lips feel, how his teeth tug, how his tongue licks into Yoongi’s mouth wantonly and almost desperately. It is both an attempt to assert dominance - Yoongi can smell it in the sharpness of Hoseok scent too - and maybe like a rush of water cascading down a rocky cliff, unstoppable and doomed. They’re both doomed, in this dance they indulge in.

 

Hoseok’s hands touch Yoongi’s chest, feeling his clothes and tugging at the satin fabric. Yoongi is not sure if he wants to take off the clothes - they didn’t take them off last time, for some reason Yoongi is not too sure of. He just went along with the motions Hoseok set - so he would be surprised if Hoseok wanted to take off Yoongi’s clothes now. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but it’s been a long time. Things change.

 

Hoseok’s hand trail past the buttons, and instead they settle down in Yoongi’s crotch, feeling the outline of the shaft with his fingers. Yoongi hisses against Hoseok’s mouth - his cock is already getting hard in his underwear just from the kissing - and Hoseok breathes hard, releasing the member to dip his hand in Yoongi’s trousers and take his cock out. Yoongi hisses again when he feels the cold air on his sensitive skin. Hoseok pulls back to look at the shaft, and his expression doesn’t reveal any particular joy or excitement at seeing it. His movements are almost methodical as he sits up on his knees and lowers his own trousers, exposing his behind. It seems they’re doing the same thing as last time, then.

 

Yoongi doesn’t mind it. He enjoyed more than anything last time, and he’ll enjoy it now.

 

Hoseok licks the palm of his hand and he strokes Yoongi’s dick, his eyes not meeting Yoongi’s face. He strokes at steady rhythm it until a large glob of pre-cum squeezes out of Yoongi’s tip, arousing a moan from Yoongi’s mouth, and then he reaches behind himself, feeling his hole. Yoongi can’t see anything lewd whatsoever - even Hoseok’s erection is hidden in the crease of his trousers, and everything exposed is facing away from Yoongi. Yoongi doesn’t need to see Hoseok’s body to be aroused by him - just his expression, the way his lips set upon each other, the way he the candlelight flickers in his gaze, the way he closes his eyes and lets out a heavier moan from, Yoongi imagines, fingering himself lightly, is absolutely trail blazing. Yoongi feels like Hoseok is teasing him and yet, giving him more than what he thought what possible, like licking a bit of icing from a cake you thought you’d never get to taste. Yoongi wants another kiss, but Hoseok shifts forward on Yoongi’s body, positioning himself so he can insert Yoongi’s shaft into his hole, and the thought is lost in his head.

 

Hoseok’s eyes finally shift up to Yoongi’s face, and his expression is heavier, not with anger, but with barely controlled lust. Yoongi can see it, smell it, feel it in the way Hoseok’s hand grips Yoongi’s cock tighter like he cares about making him feel good too. Yoongi wants to thrust into Hoseok’s fist, but he doesn’t want to break boundaries. He just wants to play along with Hoseok’s game and win by following the rules and being good.

 

Hoseok lifts his hips again, and Yoongi feels a tight ring of muscles envelope his tip. Yoongi sighs, tipping his head back into the bed. His hands are by his sides, but he feels brave enough to touch Hoseok’s hip, clothed with his robe and shirt underneath. He can feel the warmth of his skin, the sharp edge of his bone. Yoongi wants to be greedy, slide his hands all over Hoseok’s torso, kiss his stomach and lick his nipples, hear his heart quicken as he makes Hoseok feel good, lick his scent gland and breath in that pine and mint fragrance, but he doubts that’s what Hoseok wants. Hoseok either has the upper hand, or he walks away. Yoongi leaks desire like a faulty faucet.

 

Hoseok sinks down slowly on Yoongi’s cock, tilting his chin up into the air and letting out a low moan, his eyebrows knitting together as he sucks his lip into his pretty mouth. Yoongi feels he’s drowning in a forest in the middle of summer, pines dried out from the heat and his mouth stuffed full of peppermint from how much scent Hoseok is oozing out - Yoongi can’t smell anything that is not him, he can’t feel anything that isn’t Hoseok’s hole sucking him in, his slick velvet walls fiery hot and so, so deliciously tight around him. He closes his eyes because he feels like he might be losing his mind, and he doesn’t know what do with himself. He wants to tell Hoseok how good he feels, tighten his grip on Hoseok’s hip, thrust into his hole, but he just ends up letting out a gentle whimper and inhaling a shaky breath.

 

Hoseok sits on his cock fully, and he moans gently. He opens his eyes and looks at Yoongi, setting his hands gently on Yoongi’s chest. His eyes are dark and severe as he says, ‘Don’t thrust.’

 

Yoongi nods. Hoseok raises his hips with some effort and he lowers himself on Yoongi’s cock again. The movement lacks finesse or enthusiasm, but Hoseok’s touch on Yoongi’s ribs is grounded and his face is clearly one of determination and lust. He does the same action again and again, until he settles into a slow, rhythmic bounce of his hips.

 

Yoongi’s mouth parts open and his hands fall down to his sides again. He slides his forearm under his head so he has better support for his neck and he can watch Hoseok’s movements under his clothes, his eyes gently shut, his eyelashes feathering over his cheeks, the way his lip is tucked under his teeth. Beautiful Hoseok, so fucking beautiful. How can a storm be so gently pretty? Yoongi’s cock throbs at the way a loose strand curls around Hoseok’s temple when he tilts his head to the side and curses softly under his breath.

 

Hoseok feels so fucking good, his hole clenching around Yoongi and the slide growing slicker as Hoseok gets more aroused, but his hips only grow sloppier and his movements shallower. Yoongi feels good but he can tell that Hoseok is in pain and that’s why he’s not moving with the revengeful agility that he did last time. Yoongi speaks before he can assess if it’s a good idea.

 

‘If you’re in pain, then-’

 

‘No.’ Hoseok opens his eyes and he glares at Yoongi. Yoongi loves how annoyed he looks; how sexy he is when he’s wanton and angry. ‘I’m going to go slow, and you’re going to bear it. If not, you can leave.’

 

Hoseok grounds himself as to prove his point. Yoongi wants to say he’s stubborn, that Yoongi fucking him faster would feel better for the both of them, but he’s going to lose this. He’s not going to say no when he didn’t even think they would get here.

 

‘Alright. Alright then.’

 

Hoseok nods, and he starts bouncing up and down torturously slow again - Yoongi can see in the mean glint of Hoseok’s eyes he’s doing it to make a point. Yoongi holds his gaze, staying put on the bed, and eventually Hoseok speeds up again - not enough to make it marginally better, but Yoongi will take it. That’s his downfall - he takes a lot of things just because it’s Hoseok.

 

Yoongi feels sweat begin to pour from his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin. His shirt clings to his chest and Yoongi feels like he’s going insane - there is a well of pleasure locked right behind his groin but he can’t access it. He wants to - he stares at Hoseok, he touches his waist, he focuses on the rise and fall over his cock - but it’s just too fucking slow. Too slow, Yoongi is going fucking crazy.

 

‘Hoseok, please, please-’

 

‘No. Fuck, no.’

 

He says that, but it’s clear he’s frustrated too. His hands have balled into fists on Yoongi’s shirt, and he tries to move faster, only to gradually slow down again. Aside from the pain, he’s probably tired, and neither of them will get a conclusion from this. Even if Hoseok jerks himself off with Yoongi’s cock inside him, that’s not what he really wants. Yoongi knows that.

 

‘You’re tired. We can just-’

 

‘I said no.’

 

‘I don’t have to hover over you. Just-’ Yoongi caresses Hoseok’ wrist gently. Yoongi can feel his racing pulse there. ‘You can lean your body on mine and I’ll thrust up. You’re still in control. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.’

 

Hoseok stops and he stares at Yoongi. Yoongi can see the cogs turning in his head, assessing how good of an idea Hoseok thinks this is. Yoongi stays still as he deliberates, letting his cock throb painfully as Hoseok absently squeezes around him. After a moment, Hoseok sighs, and he lets go of Yoongi’s shirt. Yoongi thinks he’s going to say they’re done for the night but surprisingly, Hoseok leans down until his body is flush against Yoongi’s. He wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck, and Yoongi naturally feels the curve of his spine, but he doesn’t take his hands lower to the uncovered skin even if he wants to.

 

Hoseok exhales, and then he murmurs, ‘Be fast about it.’

 

Yoongi chuckles. ‘Don’t make it sound like you don’t want it.’

 

‘Just do as I say.’

 

Yoongi nods, and inhaling Hoseok’s scent, trails his hands down to Hoseok’s ass. The skin there is soft, firm, a little cool, and Yoongi squeezes the flesh softly. Hoseok inhales sharply, a soft mewl escaping his lips, and Yoongi takes that as a sign that he likes it. He does it again, and in the same movement, plants his feet on the mattress so he can thrust up. He does one fast movement to see how Hoseok’s feels, and when Hoseok’s grip on him only tightens, Yoongi lets the floodgates opens.

 

In truth, despite the bad angle and the clothes and how hot he feels, he fucks Hoseok like he’s always wanted to fuck him - hard, fast, deliberate. Hoseok hole is more perfect than anything Yoongi has experienced before - you’d think an omega’s entrance would be the best, but nothing compares to- this. This, oh, Hoseok’s scent, how tight he is, the breathtaking softness of his walls, how he whimpers gently in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pounds into him, and Hoseok’s voice only gets deeper. Yoongi wants to nose along Hoseok’s neck, kiss his scent gland and inhale his perfect scent right from the source, but he wouldn’t dare to do that. Hoseok would hate him if he did that.

 

Yoongi only tips back his chin to distract him form the urge, and comes inside Hoseok’s hole hard as Hoseok lets out the prettiest curse Yoongi has ever heard. Yoongi is a little bit lost in his own pleasure, but he hears Hoseok breathe deeply too, signalling he came as well.

 

Yoongi immediately let’s go of him, and Hoseok rolls over to the other side of the bed. Yoongi takes deep breaths, and says, ‘Is that what you wanted?’

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply. Yoongi hears him stand up and leave the room, probably to go clean himself up. Yoongi waits a minute, feeling his heartbeat slow down gradually, and then he lifts his trousers over his hips. He stands up clumsily and leaves the bedroom. He pads to the bathroom down the hall, and leans against the wall. A few minutes later, Hoseok comes out and he seems surprised by Yoongi’s presence.

 

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate. ‘I asked a question.’

 

Hoseok immediately looks annoyed. ‘I don’t have to answer all of your questions.’

 

‘You hardly answer any.’ Hoseok walks away but Yoongi follows him. ‘I would like to know you liked it.’

 

‘If I disliked it, I would’ve stabbed you, and you’ve not been stabbed, have you?’

 

‘Why is it so hard to admit you like to have sex with me?’

 

Hoseok turns back to look at Yoongi, looking perfectly outraged and scandalised. His eyebrows lower over his eyes, and he jams his finger into Yoongi’s chest. ‘Don’t ever think you’re special, Yoongi-ssi. I couldn’t care less about you.’

 

Yoongi smiles. ‘That’s a lie.’

 

Hoseok walks into his room and slams the door behind him. Yoongi wants to be annoying, so he shouts. ‘I enjoyed it, if it means anything.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t reply. Eventually, Yoongi stalks back to his own room, and sleeps like an angel for the rest of the night.

 

***

 

Yoongi doesn’t see Hoseok for a full day. He drops off his meals at his door and the younger doesn’t fetch them until Yoongi is so far away he doesn’t even hear Hoseok open and shut his door. Yoongi reckons he regrets his actions the previous day and Yoongi doesn’t fault him for it. Yoongi doesn’t regret anything himself and rather feels relieved of some of the tension in his body he’s been holding onto to. He’ll enjoy the momentary clear mindedness that the orgasm yesterday provided him. Constant obsession is a mental burden, and Hoseok’s lingering scent in his skin and the living sensation of their lips pressed together is a hiatus from the cycle of yearning he finds himself chained to. But he knows sex between them doesn’t have the same effect on Hoseok as it does on Yoongi.

 

Today, Yoongi spends most of the day doing chores around the house - he airs out the main living spaces by cracking the windows open a slither to allow fresh air in without rain splattering all over the panes, wipes the surfaces with a wet rage, changes his bedsheets and he even goes out to clean out the stable for his horse. He also needs to wash his clothes, something he always put off doing because it’s a hard and repetitive task.

 

It’s as Yoongi is about to go into the kitchen to prepare dinner that he sees Hoseok walk down the corridor, Yoongi’s father’s book in his hands. Hoseok has his hair in a braid and he’s wearing the change of clothes Yoongi had originally provided him when he arrived but he refused to wear. Yoongi knows he should let Hoseok walk by unbothered if he wants to see him more often, but the quip escapes his mouth before he can stop it.

 

‘Already done?’ Yoongi asks.

 

Surprisingly, Hoseok answers, ‘Yes. It was enjoyable.’

 

‘That’s good to hear. Did you enjoy the message?'

 

‘I found it to be overly simplistic.’ Hoseok says, once again to Yoongi’s amazement. ‘But moralistic stories tend to be, one way or another. Like fables.’

 

Yoongi turns around, looking at Hoseok directly. Hoseok stands perfectly still by the window, his sharp face framed by the dark daylight. His expression is placid but not withdrawn.

 

‘I thought you were of the resound belief that there are good and bad people.’

 

‘Not always.’

 

‘Really?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

Yoongi smiles. He could push for an argument, but he doesn’t want to. He’s pleased simply being able to get a semblance of a normal conversation going with Hoseok, something akin to the sorts of lengthy chats they used to share deep into the darkness of night. Of course, back then Hoseok smiled at him and enjoyed his presence. Yoongi can still remember how the room smelled with both their scents so thoroughly mixed with one another – orange blossom and pine. His mother used to say it was like late summer by the pond she grew up around, sweet and earthy. Even last night their scents didn’t mix like they used to. Hoseok’s overpowered his completely, as it does constantly. If they spent anymore time together, Yoongi is sure he would forget how he smells, how he has ever smelt. He would be pine and mint like Hoseok is.

 

‘I assume you want a new book, then?’

 

‘Yes, if you could allow access to the library.’

 

Yoongi nods. He crosses the room silently and guides Hoseok to the office.

 

Hoseok doesn’t spend much time choosing a book. He slots the book under his arm in the exact place it was before, and after some deliberation, he thumbs a deep emerald spine. Unlike the previous book, Yoongi doesn’t recognise this one at all and wouldn’t be able to talk about the story in any way. Hoseok, after flipping through the pages and reading the blurb, chooses it as his next read.

 

Yoongi allows the younger to float by, and follows after him, closing the door. It’s as they walk down the corridor that Yoongi says, ‘How’s the wound?’

 

‘Better. I think it has finally sealed for good.’

 

‘Good.’

 

They arrive to the living room, and Hoseok immediately starts going up the stairs with rushed pattering footsteps. Yoongi places his hand on the handrail, and calls, ‘Hoseok?’

 

Hoseok stops in his tracks, but doesn’t turn around. Yoongi says what he wants to say, because he reckons he might not have the chance to again, ‘I would prefer, if you care at all, if you could come down in the evenings. It would be good for you to not be in your room all the time, and we could read together.’

 

‘You always make unsavoury comments.’

 

Yoongi nods. He can’t deny that.

 

‘I know. But I won’t.’

 

Hoseok glances over his shoulder. His eyes search Yoongi’s face for something, perhaps mischief. Yoongi is not sure what he finds, because Hoseok doesn’t respond as he makes his way up the stairs, and Yoongi doesn’t chase after him either.

 

***

 

Yoongi thought his request fell on deaf ears until he hears quiet padded footsteps and a presence breach the entrance of the sitting room. Yoongi only glances over the page of his book to confirm that it’s not a ghost haunting the room, the more likely option. No, it’s Hoseok. He doesn’t meet Yoongi’s eyes as he sits down on the large leather armchair next to the couch, slides off his slippers and folds his feet under his body. He opens the book where he marked it with a piece of paper – he’s already almost half away through - and he continues reading. Hoseok has always been an avid reader, even more than Yoongi himself.

 

Yoongi goes back to his own narrative, and they sit in silence for a long time. It is perhaps half an hour gone, and Yoongi began to forget anyone else was there at all, when Hoseok’s voice cuts through the air, ‘What are you reading?’

 

Yoongi doesn’t look up. ‘A romance. It is rather mushy.’

 

‘Who about?’

 

‘Forbidden love between an omega of high status, a lord, and an alpha peasant.’

 

Hoseok cracks a smile, a rather goofy grin that Yoongi hasn’t seen in a while. ‘Why would you read such a thing when your father had a much better collection?’

 

‘Not everything one consumes needs to be of high intellect, must it?’ Yoongi looks down at the pages. ‘Don’t you sometimes want to read about an omega, a beautiful omega, have their-’ Yoongi begins reading from the page, ‘cheek caressed with the tip of his finger. The nail scratched lightly over her unmarred skin, silky, and ruddy with giddy contentment. The alpha bowed his head, his hair falling forward, and he said, whispering gently, ‘You are perhaps the prettiest creature I ever gazed upon.’

 

Hoseok turns his eyes away. He tucks a stray hair that has fallen from his braid behind his ear sheepishly/ ‘It sounds sweet, but romance is never like that.’

 

‘It could be.’

 

‘It’s only like that for omegas.’

 

‘It doesn’t need to be.’

 

Yoongi sets the book down on the couch. He stands up, and Hoseok’s eyes are now on him, following his movements. Yoongi moves slowly towards Hoseok, his own limbs heavy with the sudden tension in the air. He stands in front of Hoseok and lightly touches his cheek with his finger. Perhaps not unmarred, because Hoseok has a small scar on his cheekbone, but perfect, nevertheless. Who says perfect must be flawless? Yoongi feels his heart break out into a million flutters as he touches the scar with his fingertip and says, ‘You are perhaps the prettiest creature I ever gazed upon.’

 

Hoseok stares at Yoongi. Yoongi thought he would be repulsed by now, have told Yoongi to step away from him and stop touching him. That he will never believe Yoongi when he says he can spend time next to Hoseok and not make unseemly remarks.

 

But Hoseok doesn’t tilt away from the touch, his face doesn’t show an ounce of fear or disgust. No, he looks- so beautiful, like a painting etched in oil on a smooth canvas. His lips are darker from the glow of the candle, the flame flickers in his eyes, his dark eyes, his pretty dark eyes. His pretty cheeks, and pretty nose. So beautiful.

 

Hoseok wraps his hand around Yoongi’s wrist, but the movement is not aggressive. It’s not forceful. He’s not trying to yank Yoongi’s hand, he’s just- touching. Holding. Yoongi’s lungs exhale all the air in them, and he doesn’t know how to inhale.

 

Hoseok stands up from the chair. Yoongi follows Hoseok’s eyes as he stands up to his full height, which is just slightly taller than Yoongi. Hoseok breathes out, his eyebrow twitching, and then he says, ‘I don’t care for you, nor do I care for your saccharine words.’

 

‘I know.’

 

Hoseok leans closer, his hand touching Yoongi’s shoulder. His fingers press down on the bone, as if he’s checking if Yoongi is really there. He is, and Yoongi makes it known by touching Hoseok’s waist boldly and pulling him closer.

 

Hoseok takes a deep breath and leans in and he kisses Yoongi. Yoongi expected the kiss to happen from the moment Hoseok stood up, but somehow it still catches him off guard. Yes, Hoseok is kissing him and they only kissed two days ago, and Yoongi feels like every time Hoseok kisses him is the first time all over again. Every time Hoseok bites Yoongi’s lip, a new spark of limerence grows in Yoongi’s chest like ivy. Hoseok kisses Yoongi assertively, like he is making a point, and Yoongi lets him because whatever point Hoseok is making suits Yoongi just fine. Yoongi would perhaps even agree - he agrees by licking Hoseok’s mouth as Hoseok tangles his fingers in Yoongi’s hair and pulls Yoongi closer. Yoongi moans into the kiss, and when they break apart, they’re both panting for air.

 

Before Yoongi can speak, Hoseok does so first, ‘I want to lead this time.’

 

‘You’ve led both times before.’

 

‘You know what I mean.’

 

Even if Yoongi didn’t understand the euphemism in Hoseok’s words, Hoseok’s stony eyes and his breeching hand pawing at Yoongi’s behind primitively would make his point for him. Yes, his hand squeezes and his eyes trail down Yoongi’s body like he’s seeing him through his clothes, through his skin to the other side of his body, and Yoongi knows exactly what he wants.

 

He wants it too. It wasn’t an active thought in his mind, but how many wishes lay dormant in his head, waiting for the right touch to come alive once again?

 

‘We can do that.’ Yoongi wraps his hand under Hoseok’s chin and pulls him in for another kiss. ‘We don’t even need to go upstairs,’ He murmurs against his lips.

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi like he wants to ask if perhaps that’s truly a good idea, but Yoongi kneels down on the carpet and he touches Hoseok’s front with a determined hand, feeling the hard bulge underneath. It’s the first time Yoongi is touching the outline of Hoseok’s cock and it’s absolutely electrifying. Yoongi knows how his cock looks like soft, but not erect, and it seems much larger than in its default state. Hoseok closes his eyes as his mouth parts for a heavy exhale to escape. Yoongi takes the opportunity to take out the thing he wants to see most, taste most. Hoseok’s cock is a thing of dreams and temptations and sinful ministrations.

 

Hoseok’s cock is exactly as Yoongi expected - thick, with a dark tip, swollen knot and trail of black hair brushing over the base. Yoongi is feeling bold, so he kisses the tip once, twice, and down the shaft. Hoseok breathes heavily as he watches Yoongi with dark eyes. Yoongi doesn’t break the eye contact as his fingers trace the swollen knot and he sucks the tip into his mouth, using his tongue to lap at the leaking cockhead. The knot is the most sensitive part of an alpha’s cock, right after the tip, and to stimulate both at the same time is heavenly. Yoongi’s most favourite thing to do when his pent-up need overwhelms him is to thrust his tip against a firm pillow and rub his knot until he comes. Hoseok clearly loves it too from how his cock throbs and the breathy moans that launches from his parted lips. Hoseok wraps the limp hand by his side curls around Yoongi hair, just as it did when they were kissing.

 

‘You have a pretty cock,’ Yoongi says. Yoongi is not sure if it’s an illusion, but Hoseok’s cheek seem to darken. ‘Such a pretty, alpha cock.’

 

Hoseok moans quietly, and Yoongi takes the cock in his mouth once more. It is rather too large for him to take it very deep in his throat. He coughs a little when the tip brushes against his soft palette, but with tears pooling in his lash line, he continues to suck the cock rhythmically, his hand fondling Hoseok’s testicles. Yoongi primarily enjoys the weight of Hoseok’s length on his tongue, his taste - musk, pine and mint, fresh, alive, seedy and delicious. Hoseok’s scent is everything Yoongi can sense because Hoseok loves to pump his scent into the room, and with his cock in his mouth, Yoongi can’t escape it even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t ever want to.

 

Yoongi moves his hand to the base of the shaft where Hoseok’s knot is, and he touches it like he likes to touch his own - with a gentle, teasing touch. He’s focusing on the head once again, flattening his tongue against the tip to create as much friction as possible. Hoseok lets out a loud curse, his hand tightening in Yoongi’s hair.

 

‘You have to stop that,’ Hoseok says, his tone almost dangerous. Yoongi pulls away from his cock with a pop, and he smiles. He can feel drool drip down his chin, but he doesn’t mind it.

 

‘Is it too much for you, Hoseok-ah?’

 

‘I told you what I want.’

 

‘I’m surprised you even have wants,’ Yoongi says, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He lays down on the carpet, folding his arms under his head as he looks up at Hoseok, who’s still standing. ‘I thought you had hates and duties.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t seem to like Yoongi’s words at all from how he frowns, but he doesn’t leave either. He could - Yoongi is not even touching him anymore - but Yoongi knows how it is. His hard, leaking cock is in control now. His shaft is erect, standing to attention, and Hoseok does have wants. He wants this. He wants it so much he won’t leave even if Yoongi is being mouthy with him.

 

Hoseok finally sinks down to the floor. He kneels silently, and when he touches Yoongi’s thigh, it’s once again that primal touch that seems to possess Hoseok despite what he might want to refrain from.

 

‘It’s normal for an alpha to want sex,’ Hoseok says. Yoongi is surprised he’s bothering to answer Yoongi’s taunt at all, particular with something akin to a real answer. If only it was true.

 

‘Of course. Perhaps not with another alpha,’ Yoongi reaches out his hand, and he touches Hoseok’s abdomen. He can feel the soft hardness underneath his clothes. He wants to claw at his skin. ‘Is it hard to come by omegas, my lord?’

 

Hoseok wraps his hand around Yoongi’s wrist. This- this is forceful. This is him wanting to yank Yoongi’s hand, perhaps wanting to hurt him a little too.

 

‘Present for me.’

 

Yoongi ignores how Hoseok’s words ignite a fire in his stomach that spins like a snowstorm, burning and freezing his innards in one. He feels his cock leak in his own trousers so desperately he might as well be an omega with slick.

 

‘I’m not your omega.’

 

Hoseok ignores him. He touches Yoongi’s thigh, feeling his trousers, and then he tightens his grip, squeezing the softness in his hand. Yoongi can feel his scalding touch through the silk of his pyjamas, and he doesn’t remember the last time Hoseok has touched him like this - really touched him, really felt him. It feels like he’s touching for the sake of touch, as opposed to get something out of him, even if yes, he just wants to get something out of Yoongi. He wants sex, but touching his thigh - it’s surely a choice made for no related reason. Just because.

 

Yoongi breathes, and he looks at Hoseok. His eyes are dark, intense, and he looks so frustrated, his scent is strong with his frustration, burnt pines and frozen mint leaves. He wants Yoongi. Hoseok looks like he’s having a carrot dangled in front of his face and he won’t reach for it unless it’s handed to him fairly. Yoongi smiles, and he touches his own crotch, feeling the outline of his cock. Fuck, that feels good. Hoseok’s eyes fall there, tracking the moment.

 

‘I’ll turn around, my lord. Just because I want to.’ Yoongi does, rolling on the rug until he’s lying on his stomach. The carpet is not the most comfortable place to lie on - the fibres are made of scratchy wool, and it pokes at his chin and palms, but when Hoseok’s hands paw over his behind, feeling the swell of cheeks, squeezing it with one hand as the other lowers his trousers, Yoongi can’t feel the scratching rug anymore. He only feels Hoseok’s touch, and the swirling desire within himself. He wants this so much his hole clenches around the warm air of the sitting room, and his cock twitches when he feels Hoseok’s finger slide down over his entrance.

 

‘You’re pink everywhere, aren’t you?’ Hoseok murmurs. Yoongi is surprised by his words. He goes to answer, but Hoseok continues, his thumb dipping into Yoongi’s moistened rim. ‘Maybe not pink, but- something like it. Just like your elbows.’

 

‘You remember.’ Yoongi feels a knot forming in his throat, and it’s a disorientating contrast to how aroused he is. It’s not right to feel these things at the same time, like two seas clashing together. Yoongi inhales to steady himself, but Hoseok’s words knock the breath out of his lungs again.

 

‘I do. Against all my wishes, I do.’

 

Yoongi wants to turn around and look at Hoseok, read his expression because he’s not entirely sure what he’ll see, but something forces him to stay put. Hoseok spits - not on Yoongi, because Yoongi can’t feel anything wet on his skin - and then then he feels Hoseok’s finger thrust into his hole. Yoongi lets out a small yelp, and then a silent moan, because he wasn’t expecting this, and it feels good. It feels so damned good, fuck.

 

Hoseok is silent as he fingers Yoongi. He is slow and methodical, pumping a finger in and out, building up Yoongi’s arousal so he can produce more slick. They can never produce slick as quickly and abundantly as an omega, but Hoseok seems to get off on the trail of sticky fluids that gathers around Yoongi’s loosening entrance by the way his scent strengths every time a squelch fills up the air. Yoongi enjoys being fingered, enjoys having something that is warm and Hoseok’s inside of him, and he knows he’ll enjoy it so much more when it’s Hoseok’s cock - his perfect big cock. Yoongi’s cock hangs heavily between his legs and he knows there is a line of pre cum connecting his cockhead to the rug.

 

Hoseok’s fingers get greedy as they pound against his walls, and Yoongi’s elbows and knees are beginning to burn far too much to not be rewarded with what he really wants.

 

‘I’m ready.’

 

Hoseok continues the steady thrusts of his fingers, and then he stops. He squeezes Yoongi’s ass cheek in his hand again, his nails biting into Yoongi’s flesh, and then Yoongi can hear him shift. Yoongi positions himself lower down on the ground to relief some of the discomfort in his arms. It ends up with him presenting himself for Hoseok, so it seems the younger gets what he wants in the end anyway. As he usually does.

 

Yoongi can hear Hoseok breath out heavily, a muted smacking sound that Yoongi guesses is Hoseok jerking himself off. Yoongi wants to turn around again, wants to watch Hoseok stroke himself, wants to see Hoseok’s wondering eyes raking over his form, getting off to his body. He would be more comfortable on his back too, and they could look at each other. Hoseok’s eyes could meet his own and Yoongi could see something- wonderful. Pleasure, relief. Maybe even affection.

 

But Hoseok asks, ‘Are you alright like that?’

 

And Yoongi replies, ‘Yes.’

 

Hoseok will leave soon. Yoongi doesn’t need to seek what is not there.

 

Hoseok’s warm hand holds one of Yoongi’s cheeks in place as the tip of his cock grazes against Yoongi’s entrance. Yoongi’s mouth falls open as soon as the head breeches his rim and begins pushing in. It’s been a long time since Yoongi has last done this, and he’s out of practice, but the slight discomfort is overtaken by the pleasure of- fullness. Hoseok is so large inside him, he takes up all the space and some more, Yoongi’s walls move and stretch to accommodate him, and Yoongi takes pleasure in the thought of it. Hoseok has carved a path inside of Yoongi made of steel and shadowed in blood and Yoongi lets it happen. He has always let it happen. That’s his issue. The scars he left on Hoseok’s flesh will never compare to the lacerations inside his body.

 

Yoongi lets out a moan, and Hoseok gasps too as he finishes inserting his whole length. They’re both still for a moment, and then Hoseok’s hand moves up Yoongi’s spine to his neck and then his hair. Yoongi closes his eyes as he feels Hoseok pull his hair by the roots, an action that is not nearly as aggressive or painful as it could be. Yoongi finds it pleasurable, and moans when Hoseok’s fingers entrench themselves into his scalp.

 

Hoseok exhales, and he begins to thrust in and out of Yoongi’s. Yoongi’s lips form a perfect ‘o’, and he feels his lower body turn into molten lava - fluid and hot and scorching and coiling around itself, stretching and shrinking, like his arousal is a thing that is alive inside him. Hoseok doesn’t hold back from thrusting hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure, which Yoongi knows he does by now. Yoongi snakes a hand between his legs and he strokes himself in rhythm with Hoseok’s hips. His cock has been neglected until now, and a sharp shiver jolts down his spine at the doubling pleasure.

 

‘Fuck,’ Yoongi whimpers. ‘Fuck, that’s s’ good.’

 

‘There you go,’ Hoseok whispers. His words are almost gentle as his hand trails down Yoongi’s back. ‘There you go, just like that. Just like that.’

 

Yoongi whimpers again. Just like that. Does Yoongi please Hoseok like this? He hopes so. He feels like he does. His cock throbs in his hand.

 

As Hoseok fucks him thoroughly, Yoongi doesn’t know what happens to his brain - it becomes soggy, perhaps it disappears completely - but he closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know how he orgasms so fast. One moment it’s approaching, and the next it has sped past him. He only knows he’s desperately loud about it.

 

Yoongi is regaining his breath when he hears Hoseok let out a strangled curse and thrust particularly hard inside him, a thrust that could bruise Yoongi’s skin, and warmth splashes against Yoongi’s walls. Yoongi goes to comment that was far quicker than last time, but he fells a weight press down against him, and simultaneously, pin him down against the carpet.

 

He feels Hoseok all around him. His weight and the shape of his bones and his erratic heartbeat. Hoseok breathes against him, small puffs of hot air pushed out of his parted lips against the back of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi closes his eyes, and he imagines if maybe this is what laying down in bed with Hoseok would feel like. Perhaps it is, but most likely it isn’t. There is no hard floor and stinging carpet in bed, and Hoseok would not be on top of him like this. It would be better, but this is all Yoongi will get. Yoongi inhales Hoseok’s relaxed, airy scent, and he forces himself to end the moment.

 

‘We should wash up.’

 

Hoseok, almost as if startled, removes himself from Yoongi’s body entirely. He pulls out of Yoongi’s hole and puts space between them. Yoongi forces himself to rise from the floor, hissing at the marks the carpet left on his arms and chin, and the sharp soreness in his hole and back. He winces as he stands up and pull up his trousers over his behind, his shoulder blade cracking softly. He limps forward and stumbles into the nearby armchair, where he breathes slowly in relief. The floor is not the best place to have sex, that’s for sure.

 

Yoongi looks around to find Hoseok, but he’s already gone. Yoongi didn’t even notice - his footsteps were silent and the scent he left behind is as strong as when he was here. It’s the only thing that lingers in the air. It’s almost as if Yoongi doesn’t even exist.

 

It’s a certainty that no matter what, their scents won’t mingle together ever again. It’s Hoseok’s, or nothing.

 

***

 

Hoseok comes down in the morning to have breakfast with Yoongi. Yoongi was surprised when Hoseok opened the door to his bedroom, his hair still wet from his bath, and he stated without any hint of resentment that he wished to have breakfast downstairs. Yoongi didn’t say anything in return, and turned around, taking the tray still in his hands back to the dining room.

 

They sit opposite to each other on the table. Hoseok eats his rice and thinly sliced beef with boiled eggs slowly but without reluctance, and Yoongi does the same. Yoongi is reading his book, and he finds it a welcome distraction from the awkwardness between them. Yoongi has never experienced having to speak to Hoseok the day after they have sex, and for the life of him he doesn’t understand why Hoseok is sat there, gracing him with his presence.

 

Yoongi is not sure if he wants to address it head on and cause an argument, because there will be an argument if he does. Hoseok hates being confronted and Yoongi loves confronting. That’s their issue, among everything else. So, Yoongi stays quiet.

 

Soon, it will stop raining. And Hoseok will leave. That’s as inevitable as everything else.

 

‘Did you sleep well?’

 

Yoongi looks up from the book. ‘I did. And you?’

 

‘Yes, I did.’ Hoseok chews on the hard egg yolk, and adds, ‘I need more clean clothes.’

 

‘I’ll lend you some, or you can have a look in my closet.’

 

There’s a pause, and Hoseok says, ‘If you could show me where the water basin is, I can wash my laundry.’

 

‘I don’t mind doing it. Just give me what needs to be washed.’

 

‘No, it’s alright. I don’t have much to do either way.’

 

Yoongi nods. ‘Alright, we can do that after breakfast.’

 

Yoongi acts like this is normal, but his mind spins in a circle wondering why Hoseok is being so sweet all of a sudden. The man is so unpredictable. One moment he’s prickly, the next he’s brutal, and the moment after that he’s sweet and then they’re both possessed by lust. It doesn’t seem to make any sense. It makes Yoongi feels unstable even when he’s choosing to be measured.

 

‘Do you-’ Hoseok pauses. ‘Do you have a piano, by any chance?’

 

Yoongi nods. ‘In the reception upstairs, yes. I can show you it.’

 

‘Thank you.’

 

They don’t speak further as they eat. Yoongi decides to set aside his confusion, and enjoy what he’s given, as always.

 

***

 

Yoongi doesn’t need to be in the sitting room as Hoseok plays the piano, but Yoongi allows himself the indulgence of doing so regardless. Hoseok hasn’t complained. Not yet, at least.

 

Outside, the rain is the heaviest it’s been since it began. It’s been a week and it’s showing no signs of subsiding. The sky is sombre and the rain treacherous - it splatters against the windowpanes with brute force, the sort of sound that makes Yoongi want to bury himself into the wool-cushioned couch, thankful he is under a sturdy roof, dry and warm. The fire crackles gently, and Hoseok’s hands move over the keys.

 

Hoseok plays a simple melody, his nimble fingers pressing the keys without much commitment. He plays a minute of one song, and then another, and then another. None of the songs have much to do with each other, and it seems the product of a memory that is dusty and half-forgotten. Hoseok plays the beginning of another song, and he re-plays the middle chord three times, like he’s stuttering over a speech, before he lets out a small, ‘Oh!’ and he continues the succession with eagerness, the notes coming out heavy-handed and slightly off tempo. Yoongi smiles to himself because he knows this used to be one of Hoseok’s favourite songs to play, and once upon a time he knew the entire thing off by heart and could play it perfectly to a crowded room. He used to shine in the light of attention, particularly when it came to his musical ability.

 

‘You’re still a good player,’ Yoongi comments. He’s not entirely sure if he should make the comment, but Hoseok’s scent is light-toned and his shoulders are relaxed, so if there was ever a good time to make more personal remarks, now it’s as good as they come.

 

‘I’m out of practice,’ Hoseok says, but his voice is not bitter in any way. In fact, he sounds amused. He places his hands on his knees, rubbing the fabric of his trousers. ‘You were always much more skilled than me.’

 

‘You were better at playing in front of other people.’

 

‘You always had stage fright. But really, you were the better pianist.’

 

Yoongi hasn’t heard Hoseok compliment him in- years. Years? A year. Why does everything feel so far away, when it was only yesterday? Surely, it was only yesterday that they were friends, and it wasn’t- this. It wasn’t this.

 

Yoongi brushes his nose with the tip of his finger. He’s not sure what to say to the compliment. He thinks it would be a good time to be cheeky, but nothing comes to him. Nothing sufficiently light-hearted comes to his mind. All the words that trace his tongue are laden with emotions too complicated to detangle in the air between them.

 

Hoseok looks over his shoulder. He seems to watch Yoongi’s face for a moment, and then he says, ‘Could you play for me?’

 

‘I doubt I remember much.’

 

‘You have a piano in your home and you don’t play much?’

 

Yoongi shrugs, but he stands, nonetheless. ‘I think playing music requires a light heart.’

 

Hoseok scoffs, and he stands up from the piano bench as Yoongi approaches. Yoongi takes a seat at the bench, and feels the keys with his fingers. The keys feel heavy, and he doesn’t know if they’re heavier than they were before, but it’s certainly a possibility.

 

‘That’s most definitely not true. The best songs were written by heartbroken men in times of anguish.’

 

‘I don’t think I’m very artistic in anguish.’

 

Yoongi plays a short scale, just to get used to the feeling. He hopes something comes to his mind because he does want to play for Hoseok. It’s just been a long time.

 

‘You’re not in anguish right now.’

 

Yoongi smiles. He presses down on D sharp a few times, which sparks a memory. He closes his eyes, and plays a chord that is familiar to both of them. Hoseok breathes out, and Yoongi says, ‘No, I’m not.’

 

Yoongi begins playing. His movements are not as fluid as they once were - Hoseok always had this ability of making him blossom under his gaze, like his hands knew music better when Hoseok looked at him. Oh, yes, he knew the better things in life when Hoseok was with him - he knew how the sun warmed his face, how whipped cream tasted slathered on top of a slice of sponge cake, the smell of orchids in the gardens of Hoseok’s house, the feeling of laughter that possessed his shoulders and shook small huffs out of him whenever Hoseok said anything, commented on anything. Yes, he knew all the sweet, magical things with Hoseok. He remembers the song now, perfectly, seamlessly, because Hoseok is right here. Yoongi can almost imagine that he’s twenty-one again, in Hoseok’s sitting room with a smaller piano, and nothing bad has ever happened between them. They are two sides of one coin, attached at the hip anywhere they go. The only detail that reminds Yoongi that this is not real is that Hoseok is not pressed against him on the bench like he always was back then. The bench was small, but they made space for the both of them to sit on it.

 

Yoongi opens his eyes as his hands come to a still. He played all he remembered. He swallows dryly, and plays a D sharp again.

 

‘You still remember it so well.’ Hoseok sounds slightly winded.

 

'I suppose I do.’

 

Yoongi stands up from the piano. He looks at Hoseok, who looks back with an expression Yoongi can’t quite comprehend. His eyes and brows are tense, but his mouth is drawn into a small pout. It’s like two halves of opposite expressions are combined. Yoongi inches back towards the couch.

 

‘I’ll leave you to it.’

 

‘Thank you,’ Hoseok says.

 

Hoseok sits back on the bench and goes back to playing snippets of songs. Yoongi tries to focus on his book but instead gets lost in the sound of the rain outside, imaging himself running under the cold, cruel water and screaming.

 

***

 

Hoseok has drawn half the wine bottle, and if the colour of his ruddy cheeks is to be trusted, the alcohol is beginning to get to him.

 

Dinner has been a quiet affair. They are sat opposite to each other on the table, eating away at their pork belly with rice and side salad, and Yoongi has drunk his usual glass of red wine, but Hoseok has had at least three large portions. Yoongi can tell Hoseok means to drink so much and he’s not just thirsty. Hoseok has never been very subtle when he wants to drink excessively, particularly because he’s not all that good with alcohol.

 

Hoseok finishes his food, setting his chopsticks inside the bowl a little clumsily. He smiles to himself, and picks up his glass to down the small, thumbnail sized portion that is still left inside. Hoseok picks up the wine bottle again, and Yoongi thinks he’s going to pour himself some more. Instead, Hoseok tips the neck towards Yoongi’s glass, holding the bottle by the bottom haphazardly.

 

‘You should drink some more.’

 

Yoongi cracks a smile. ‘Why should I? Are we celebrating?’

 

Hoseok smiles too, a keen sign that he’s definitely lightly inebriated. He tilts his head to one side as he sets the bottle back down on the table with a few too many steps. ‘Of course not. I mean, there is nothing to celebrate.’ Hoseok hiccups, letting out a small burp, and he covers his mouth. The crimson tint of his cheeks darkens. ‘I just think that you should drink some more.’

 

‘I’m not the fondest of this wine,’ Yoongi says, still gulping back a large portion of the berry liquid in his glass. ‘It’s not the best in the cellar.’

 

‘Did you purposefully serve me your worst wine?’ Hoseok says. Usually, those words would have an outraged bite to them. Now, they’re almost plush, almost like Hoseok is trying to- stir his affections. Of course, Yoongi knows that’s not the case.

 

‘No, I pick them at random. Even the worst wines have to be drunk at some point.’ Yoongi downs the rest of the glass, ignoring the slightly unpleasant spicy undertone of the liquid, and stands up from his seat as he sets the glass back on the table. ‘I would prefer to have some whiskey.’

 

‘Is the whiskey you have here particularly good?’ Hoseok says, also standing up. He does so slowly, almost lethargically, and he almost stumbles as he takes the first step forward. Yoongi reaches for him in case he falls, but Hoseok puts out a hand to show he’s fine, and he does walk forward normally, albeit with a little bit too much spring to his step.

 

‘It’s good whiskey,’ Yoongi says. He stays put, trusting Hoseok is sober enough to bring back the aged bottle without dropping it. Yoong is not entirely sure how mad he will be if Hoseok breaks his prized possession, but he will wait to see if it happens to assess the situation.

 

‘Hm,’ Yoongi hears Hoseok say from the sitting room. ‘Come in here. Let’s drink here.’

 

‘We should clear the table first.’

 

‘Says who? You’re the man of the house.’

 

Such a good attempt at flattery. Yoongi’s alpha purrs with honeyed satisfaction despite his own knowledge that it’s a cheap trick. An alpha knows exactly what an alpha loves to hear. You’re the man of the house. You’re in control. You’re so good at providing. You’re the best alpha.

 

 

 

Yoongi sighs to himself. Oh, sure. What harms does it cause for them to have some whiskey now? He can always clear the table later after Hoseok has gone to bed. He doesn’t expect Hoseok to do any chores even if he’s feeling more sociable.

 

Yoongi walks into the sitting room and Hoseok is already pouring the golden liquid into two glass tumblers. His hair falls over his face, creating a curtain of darkness over his features. Yoongi walks to the fireplace and places some thin logs into the fire to rekindle the heat. He hears Hoseok plop down on the couch and Yoongi stands to join him.

 

Hoseok has both glasses in his hands. He takes a sip from one of them, his eyes tracking Yoongi’s features. Yoongi sits down some distance from Hoseok, but the younger shuffles closer and hands Yoongi his drink. It’s the tumbler Hoseok just drank from.

 

‘It’s good whiskey.’

 

Yoongi smiles. He sips the liquid from the same place in the brim Hoseok’s lips just touched. Hoseok’s lips curl wider.

 

‘The best you’ve had?’

 

‘Perhaps not. But it’s good.’ Hoseok drinks from his tumbler and rests his cheek against his hand, his elbow supported by the back of the couch. ‘Do- are you always alone?’

 

‘A significant portion of the time, yes.’

 

‘Do you get lonely?’

 

‘Sometimes, I must admit.’ Yoongi swirls the whiskey in his glass. ‘But I’m used to it. Do you? Get lonely?’

 

‘I guess so. I guess I do. But I’m always around people, so it’s different.’ Hoseok looks at the fireplace. He tucks a hair behind his ear, and says with a soft expression, ‘These last few days are the first in a long time where I actually get to hear my own uninterrupted thoughts.’

 

‘Any particularly good thoughts?’

 

Hoseok turns his eyes to Yoongi. Yoongi sips the whiskey; his gaze locked with Hoseok’s. Hoseok sets down his glass, tucking his leg under his body so he’s fully turned towards Yoongi. His scent is heady and strong, and Yoongi knows what Hoseok will say before he says it.

 

Hoseok leans in and kisses him. It’s the slowest kiss they’ve ever shared, and it tastes entirely like wine and whiskey. Yoongi likes those flavours mixed together in Hoseok’s mouth. It tastes like depravity and solace in one singular place. Hoseok’s hot hand comes to rest on Yoongi’s cheek, but the touch switches from a caress to a rough grip across his jaw, Hoseok handling his face with force as he pulls back from the kiss. Yoongi can feel Hoseok’s nails biting into the skin of his cheeks.

 

Hoseok looks down at Yoongi and sees the glass is still in his hand. He takes the tumbler from Yoongi’s hand, and with a small grin, he brings the brim to Yoongi’s lips. Yoongi opens his mouth to drink the contents – it’s either that, or precious whiskey would run down his skin instead. Hoseok chuckles softly when he sees the glass is empty, and whispers, ‘Good alpha.’

 

Yoongi’s cock twitches in his trousers. Hoseok brings Yoongi in for another kiss, and this one is by far messier. Their tongues collide together, like Hoseok is attempting to savour the last drops of alcohol in Yoongi’s mouth, his teeth biting down on Yoongi’s lip like he means to rip it clean. It hurts so good. Yoongi wouldn’t mind if Hoseok made him bleed from one of his kisses. Hoseok climbs on top of Yoongi’s lap and Yoongi knows better than to touch him if he wants this to continue, and holy shit does he want this to continue. He wants whatever comes from abashedly tipsy Hoseok handling him roughly and devouring him. It’s the first time Hoseok praises him during sex and Yoongi could get drunk on that alone.

 

Hoseok releases Yoongi’s jaw. His hands skim down Yoongi’s arms until they loop around his forearms. His grip is harsh and Yoongi winces slightly. He got carpet burn from how Hoseok fucked him on the floor, and his skin is still tender to the touch.

 

‘I noticed the burns.’ Hoseok says, a twinkle of delight in his voice. He’s really so vicious. ‘I like that I bruise you. I like that you have marks because of me.’ Hoseok leans forward and noses along Yoongi’s neck, right where Yoongi’s scar rests. His teeth skim his skin like he wants to mate him. ‘You should only suffer because of me. No one else.’

 

Yoongi moans, his eyes falling shut. I only ever suffer because of you. You’re my doom. Hoseok’s hands grip Yoongi possessively and his heart has no business beating so joyfully in his chest the way it does now. His cheeks feel heated and his gut floods with warmth not from the alcohol but rather Hoseok’s touch – his violently greedy touch that Yoongi delights in. His cock is already hardening in his trousers.

 

‘Hoseok-’

 

‘I want you to fuck me.’

 

Yoongi’s cock jumps. Fuck, that’s different. All these times, Hoseok has been fucking Yoongi. It doesn’t matter if whose cock is inside who – Hoseok is doing the fucking regardless. Yoongi wants to fuck Hoseok. He has dreamed and longed for it. He wants to be in control for once, to get so full of Hoseok he’s drowning in him.

 

Hoseok pulls back and takes off his robe. The fabric falls on the floor, and he soon flings off his shirt as well. It’s the first time Yoongi is seeing Hoseok completely shirtless in a long time. His wound is not wrapped in bandages anymore, and it looks closed and healthy. The skin around it is a good colour and flat throughout. That’s good sign.

 

Yoongi’s eyes travel up to Hoseok’s perky brown nipples and his dark eyes. Hoseok climbs off Yoongi’s lap and takes off his trousers. He doesn’t make a show off it – it’s one clumsy movement and he has to bend down to kick off his slippers and allow the fabric to pull around his ankles. But Hoseok’s body – his full body – is a sight that could turn men blind. He is radiant like the sun. Lean and muscular, his body flows like a river flowing into the sea. His bronze skin glows in the fire. His hard cock stands to attention, his dark pubic hair hiding some of the length at the base. Yoongi stares and stares and Hoseok allows him to stare like he knows how perfect he is and that only makes Yoongi want to stare for longer, his cock pulsing with the need to have him. Hoseok stares back at Yoongi and bites his lip between his teeth.

 

After a moment, he reaches for Yoongi’s knee, and then his waist, and he’s taking Yoongi’s trousers off for him. Yoongi lifts his hips to allow this. Hoseok pulls the clothes down to Yoongi’s ankles and Hoseok’s blown eyes scan his cock and his legs. Yoongi preens under his attention, his cheeks flushed and hot. Hoseok smiles and nods.

 

‘Few look like you.’

 

Yoongi is too aroused to speak. He doesn’t understand Hoseok’s words very well but he doesn’t feel the need to understand them. Yoongi is half naked, Hoseok is gloriously bare for him, just for him. They don’t need to speak and ruin everything. Their words have always meddled with what their bodies find instinctual.

 

Hoseok moves away from Yoongi. He lays down on the other end of the couch, positioning one of the cushions so it supports his neck. He parts his legs as his hand wraps around his cock, the knot at the base inflating slightly as he lets out a wanton moan. Yoongi crawls to him, positioning himself in-between Hoseok’s open legs. He quickly throws off his own robe and shirt, letting the warm air from the fire and Hoseok’s touch burn his skin. Hoseok’s eyes fall to the scars on Yoongi’s torso, the one along his chest, and he smiles.

 

‘All me?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

Hoseok’s sunny smile is purely joyous, his cheeks ruddy so merry, and Yoongi leans down and kisses him. Hoseok kisses him back, his hands still dancing down Yoongi’s stomach. He strokes the soft chub of Yoongi’s stomach and traces the line of his hips, his thumbs stroking the bone below the skin. Yoongi kisses Hoseok’s cheek and breathes in his aroused scent – a spicy forest scent that coats Yoongi’s mind like a sticky layer of honey. Yoongi reaches down between Hoseok’s legs and he feels his hole. It’s definitely a little wet, a small amount of slick already coating his rim. Yoongi spits into his palm to coat the entrance further. Hoseok’s eyelids flutter shut at the sensation. When he opens them, his gaze is harder. Yoongi has never seen his eyes this dark. His lip is swollen from being sucked into his mouth and Yoongi kisses it, sucks it into his own because he’s jealous. He wants to bite Hoseok’s lip too. He wants to make him swell with pleasure too.

 

Yoongi dips a finger inside Hoseok. Hoseok curses softly, his hand trailing down Yoongi’s thigh.

 

‘You know I don’t like it too wet.’

 

‘I know.’ Yoongi adds another finger. He finds some resistance and spits into his hand again before trying once more. Hoseok tilts his head back, his hard cock leaking against this stomach. Yoongi’s free hand comes up to Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok has a scar just below his pec, and Yoongi smiles.

 

‘Me?’

 

Hoseok smiles. ‘Yes.’

 

Yoongi’s cock throbs. His fingers trace the small indent, and then trail up to Hoseok’s nipple. Yoongi circles the nub with the tip of his finger. Hoseok lets out a small mewl, a tiny, stuttered breath, and Yoongi feels drool gather on his tongue. He leans down and he takes Hoseok’s nipple in his mouth. Hoseok curses and Yoongi sucks hard, biting the small nub between his teeth.

 

‘Fuck, hyung, shit-’

 

Yoongi sucks harder, and he notices a wetness growing around his fingers. That’s it. That’s a whole lot better.

 

‘Good boy,’ Yoongi murmurs, kissing below Hoseok’s areola. Hoseok hums, his eyes falling closed as Yoongi increases the pace of his fingers inside Hoseok.

 

‘I’m ready,’ Hoseok says, his voice intimate. ‘I can take you.’

 

Yoongi believes him. He kisses Hoseok’s sternum and withdraws his fingers. He licks the moisture slicking his digits, and Hoseok seems to enjoy the sight by how he smiles up at Yoongi. Yoongi’s heart races at the sight such a pretty smile all for him.

 

Hoseok pulls Yoongi close by the hips. Yoongi wraps a hand around himself and strokes his length slowly. His cock is sensitive, eager for what’s to come, and he doesn’t want to lose control of the situation. He will only get this tonight. He needs to savour it.

 

Hoseok watches Yoongi’s hand. He lifts his legs so his hole is further exposed. Yoongi smiles, spreading the bead of pre cum that arises from the sight over his cockhead.

 

‘Do it well, alpha. I wanna feel it.’

 

‘Don’t worry, pup,’ Yoongi drawls as he lines himself up with Hoseok’s entrance. ‘I’ll take care of you. Alpha will make you feel good.’

 

If Hoseok wants to bite back against Yoongi’s nickname, Yoongi doesn’t give him the chance to. Yoongi thrusts in at once, not giving Hoseok too much time to adjust. It’s what Hoseok wants – Yoongi can see the blooming giddiness in his features as he slowly takes in Yoongi’s girthy length inside him, how large Yoongi feels inside him.

 

‘Fuck, fuck.’

 

‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’ Yoongi whispers, and he’s being cocky, pushing his luck. At any point, the spell Hoseok’s under can break and he will be feisty with Yoongi again, take away this privilege of fucking him, slap him, kill him, anything. But Yoongi’s alpha is happy inside him, greedy and heady for what he has already considered to be his for so long, and it’s hard to hold back. It’s so hard to hold back.

 

Hoseok reaches for one of Yoongi’s nipples and he twists the nub harshly. Yoongi grunts, his cock throbbing. ‘Fuck me,’ Hoseok says, but his voice has a weak, pliant edge to it. ‘Fuck me.’

 

Yoongi hovers over Hoseok. His hands roam down Hoseok’s thighs so the younger wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist. Hoseok gasps when Yoongi’s cock presses down against his prostate and Yoongi eats up the breath with his parted mouth. Yoongi’s hands grip Hoseok’s waist, and he begins moving his hips as Hoseok desired.

 

Hoseok’s face moulds with bliss once Yoongi builds the rhythm Hoseok wanted all along – hips smacking against his own, a punishing, bruising tandem that builds up sweat in Yoongi’s brow and drives him mad with need. How can you be getting what you want – control, plush velvet walls sucking you in, moans delivered into your ear at the most perfectly obscene cadence, a breathtaking mirage of a countenance to look into – and you only want more? Yoongi has been cursed with eternal greed. He will always want more of Hoseok – more of his body, his mind, his soul. Oh, to have Hoseok’s soul sucked into his own, for them to be- mated. Mated. If Yoongi could feel what Hoseok feels, would he feel adoration, hatred, lust, ambivalence? Impossible. Hoseok feels everything but ambivalence towards him. Yoongi would hate his life if Hoseok ever grew numb to him.

 

It should be difficult to keep up this pace but Yoongi feels strength upon strength given to him by pleasure and pain – Hoseok feels so damned perfect, he feels so fucking beautiful with Yoongi inside him, Yoongi feels whole like this, and the nails scratching his back, Hoseok biting at the scar on his neck like he wants to consume him, it’s- it’s glorious. He feels- fuck- he feels like he could knot from this. He can already feel his base swell, and really, he could easily knot Hoseok. He wants to, he wants to, he wants to, he wants to, he wants to, he really wants to-

 

‘Alpha,’ Hoseok breathes, his voice gruff with desire. ‘Alpha, fuck, keep going. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’

 

‘No, shit, I won’t, petal. I won’t stop. Fuck, you feel so good.’

 

‘Hyung, fuck-’ Hoseok reaches between their bodies. Yoongi can feel he’s stroking his cock. ‘You need to knot me. You need to do it.’

 

Yoongi smiles. Oh, fuck what a fucking relief. ‘Yeah? Is that what my pup wants?’

 

‘Yes, fuck. Yes, I want it. I want it. Please.’ Hoseok kisses the corner of Yoongi’s lips like he meant to aim for his mouth but he was too distracted. Yoongi hunts down his lips to give him a proper kiss, their foreheads sliding together with built-up sweat.

 

Yoongi nods, his vision blurry with need. ‘Alpha will give you what you want.’

 

Yoongi builds up the pace and with Hoseok’s legs locked firmly around his hips, he feels the knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock. It’s been some time since he last had a knot – even the first time Hoseok and Yoongi slept together, he didn’t produce one. The conditions have to be right for a knot, and these conditions are perfect – Hoseok wants it, he wants it, Yoongi feels on top of the world and yes, yes, his knot is growing in size and with three more thrusts, a large load of cum coats Hoseok’s inside and he’s unable to move further. Yoongi is completely out of breath as he stills his hips, and Hoseok mewls out his name before he comes all over his own stomach, his body shaking from the potency of the orgasm. The entire room smells like pine and mint, mint and pine, and Yoongi is blissfully drowning in it all.

 

‘Fuck, hyung,’ Hoseok whispers, his voice weak and pretty. ‘Fuck.’

 

‘Fuck,’ Yoongi agrees, a small, relieved smile on his lips. He kisses the scar on Hoseok’s neck. His own gift to Hoseok that looks perfect above his Adam’s apple. ‘That was s’ good.’

 

Hoseok hums. Yoongi relaxes against Hoseok despite the variety of fluids between them. There is nowhere they can go until Yoongi’s knot deflates. Hoseok keeps his legs locked around Yoongi, and his hands dance along Yoongi’s back, his palms soothing the welts his nails left behind. Yoongi buries his nose in Hoseok’s neck and breathes in his scent. It’s always more potent and sweeter right from the source. Hoseok is calm and his heart rate beginning to drop down, so his scent gland is open and fragrant. Yoongi rubs his nose along the budding mark. It’s not quite scenting, but it’s a little bit like it.

 

‘You’re going to make me fall asleep,’ Hoseok says. He doesn’t sound too displeased with the notion.

 

‘You’ve always enjoyed being scented,’ Yoongi says, tongue darting out to caress the gland. Hoseok shivers.

 

‘I did. I do.’

 

‘Then let hyung do it.’

 

Hoseok doesn’t answer back. Yoongi kisses the crook of his shoulder and he noses along the scent gland carefully, sweetly. Hoseok lets out a long breath and he practically melts in Yoongi’s arms as Yoongi licks over the gland and kisses it reverently. Oh, that pretty scent is so strong, so perfect right from the rosing gland on Hoseok’s neck. Yoongi kisses it repeatedly, desperately, he kisses Hoseok’s firm shoulder and long neck, licks over his sweaty skin and rubs his cheek along his soft skin and Yoongi is happy doing this, so fucking happy scenting his pup, and he yet happier – and surprised – when he feels Hoseok’s nose brush his own neck. This time, the other alpha doesn’t bare his teeth, and instead he kisses Yoongi’s own scent gland and licks it timidly. Yoongi lets out a soft noise, a noise that comes from his wolf. Hoseok kisses the line of Yoongi’s shoulder, creating a short trail of lightning strikes along Yoongi’s skin, and brushes his noses against Yoongi’s scent gland again.

 

He wishes Hoseok hadn’t done that. He wishes Hoseok wasn’t scenting him. It feels too good. It feels too good. It’s too sweet.

 

Yoongi ignores his howling wolf and licks Hoseok’s skin as Hoseok kisses his scent gland again, a small growl bubbling in Hoseok’s throat. This is probably the sweetest moment Yoongi will ever get with Hoseok. He will cherish it and regret it forever.

 

***

 

Yoongi expected Hoseok to regret everything the next morning. It seems like the natural order of events – sex and then silence. Yoongi had prepared himself for this once again.

 

But Hoseok comes down for breakfast and his features are relaxed, his scent is fresh like morning dew and he looks at Yoongi with friendly eyes and a genuine smile. Yoongi had prepared his tray in advance to bring it up to his room, but Hoseok sits before it like he intends to stay. He chirps a friendly, ‘Good morning.’

 

‘Good morning,’ Yoongi returns. ‘How was your sleep?’

 

‘It was good. My wound doesn’t bother me so much anymore.’

 

‘That’s good to hear.’ Yoongi sips his coffee. ‘I slept fine as well.’

 

‘That’s good.’ Hoseok sips his coffee as well. It seems unnecessary and premature to address what happened last night. Yoongi doesn’t plan to speak about it. There is a more pressing more in his mind that he wants to understand, particularly as Hoseok seems more talkative and his stay is surely coming to an end. ‘When you leave, are you going to kill him?’

 

‘Kill who?’

 

‘The man who wounded you,’ Yoongi says.

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi. His smile simmers down as he nods. ‘I hope to, when the timing is right.’

 

‘Is there something in the way?’

 

‘You know Kang Kyubok.’

 

Yoongi swallows. Kang Kyubok is part of another noble family that was close to the king. Yoongi and Hoseok used to know him well, they were friends, even. But all friendship fell apart after this dispute began. ‘Yes. Is he hoping to get the throne as well?’

 

‘Yes. But the altercation between us was not about that, however.’

 

‘Then what was it about?’

 

Hoseok’s face hardens. Yoongi knows at once that he overstepped and potentially ruined Hoseok’s good mood. ‘It’s none of your concern.’

 

‘You can tell me what happened.’

 

Hoseok stares at Yoongi. Yoong is ready for Hoseok tell him he should die for asking, but instead, he responds, ‘We came across each other. Our conversation soured, and he charged at me. I wasn’t prepared to defend myself, quite foolishly, and I had no one else with me. The rest you know.’

 

‘Why were you so far up North?’

 

Hoseok frowns. ‘Must you ask me so many questions? Why must you always push?’

 

‘I think I’m asking fair enough questions. Your refusal to answer is the unwelcomed part in all of this.’

 

‘Why would I tell you my business, Yoongi?’ Hoseok spits, his voice brutal. Hoseok’s scent is heavy and bitter, and Yoongi knows he’s ruined everything. He’s not quite sure why Hoseok is exploding at him, but it’s very certain everything is ruined. ‘Really, I think you misunderstood-’

 

‘I don’t misunderstand anything. I know I am nothing to you.’ Yoongi stands up from his seat. He’s not very hungry all of a sudden. Hoseok’s short fuse is so damn difficult to deal with. ‘You’re welcome to keep your secrets. I won’t push any longer. I do wish we could have a normal conversation without this happening.’

 

‘I wish you wouldn’t ask me questions.’

 

‘I won’t.’

 

Yoongi leaves the dining room. He’s usually not upset with Hoseok when he is harsh with him, but Yoongi made the mistake he swore to not let himself do so he could survive all of this – he let his heart get too soft. And his tender aching heart can hardly withstand Hoseok treating him like the enemy.

 

***

 

Two days later, the rain stops. Hoseok and Yoongi barely spoke during that time. They sit together for meals, but otherwise they don’t see much of each other. Yoongi is able to seal his feelings and recompose himself in Hoseok’s partial absence, and he feels more than prepared when he awakens and sees the rain has ceased. He knew this day would come soon. In a way, it’s for the best if it happens now.

 

Yoongi comes down the stairs expecting that Hoseok has already left without saying anything. He has his clothes and his few other personal items, as well as several changes of clothes Yoongi provided him. He is more than welcome to leave if he so wished because walking on foot to the nearest village is more than possible now that the rain has stopped.

 

However, when Yoongi is able to see the entrance, he sees Hoseok standing there, by the door. He’s dressed in his own clothes. The sight of the cut and blood where he was stabbed pains Yoongi, but he sees why Hoseok wouldn’t want to wear the clothes he provided him. That’s just the way Hoseok is.

 

‘Do you know the way?’ Yoongi asks.

 

‘Yes, I have to head east. It should only take a few hours.’

 

‘I can take you by horse, if you wish.’

 

‘They’ll be no need.’ Hoseok says, his voice resolute. His eyes don’t meet Yoongi’s own. He doesn’t seem nearly as pleased nor in a rush to leave as Yoongi thought he might be. He continues, ‘I wish purchase a horse and make my way back home.’

 

‘Your clothes might scare people.’

 

‘I don’t mind that. I don’t really care for what people think.’

 

Yoongi nods. They look at each other for a moment. Yoongi doesn’t have it in himself to prompt Hoseok to leave, and Hoseok seems lost in thought.

 

‘I wish-’ Hoseok starts. He takes a deep breath, and the exhale comes out shaky. ‘I wish I could forgive you. For what you did.’

 

‘Forgiveness is rather voluntary.’

 

‘It would be easier if you were different. But you are still the Yoongi I knew, and I thought- I thought he-’

 

‘Your parents used to beat you. They said heinous things to you. They treated you like their puppet.’ Yoongi’s heart picks up in his chest at the memory of everything that happened, all the times Hoseok cried to him after a heated argument with his parents that left him with welts across his behind. ‘I saved you from a life of misery.’

 

‘You- do you know how hard it has been- you- you could have told me what your plan was!’ Hoseok says, his eyes now focused on Yoongi. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me find out- why did you let me see them dead?’

 

‘I didn’t mean to. I- it was all so quick. I found my parents, and I knew what your parents had done. Your mother was stupid enough to drop her norigae, something I recognised immediately. And all I had in my head was revenge, and after it happened, I- I heard a noise and I knew it was certain they would come for me. I had no time to tell you, I had to flee before the guards came-’

 

‘So you had no concern for me! It was all about your revenge!’

 

‘And you fucking killing me was all about yours,’ Yoongi shouts, despite his best attempts to stay calm. ‘How do you think it feels for me to find out you were personally hunting me down? When I thought you would understand. When I thought you knew what your parents had done to cover up their crimes.’

 

Hoseok sniffles, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his sleeves. ‘I had no choice. I thought- you made me believe you wanted to kill me too.’

 

‘And for a while, I did. But Hoseok- I look at you and I just-’ Yoongi exhales. His chest hurts. His heart aches. He shakes his head. ‘You know I wouldn’t kill you.’

 

‘I didn’t know anything. I didn’t even know who you were anymore.’

 

‘I can say the same about you.’

 

A pause. Yoongi feels sick in the stomach and he doesn’t even know why. He thought once they talked about this openly, they would both feel better, but Yoongi only feels worse. Despite the pain it causes him, Yoongi says, ‘We are doomed, you and I.’

 

‘It seems so.’

 

‘If you’re going to leave, then it’s best you leave. And we should make sure we stay on our separate paths.’

 

‘I agree.’

 

‘It’s good we can agree on something for once.’

 

Yoongi feels Hoseok’s eyes on him. It takes a moment before Hoseok moves, but eventually he does. His footsteps thud lightly against the wood floor as he reaches for the doorknob. Yoongi thinks Hoseok will say something – something final, something tragic and resolute – but something worse happens.

 

He doesn’t say anything at all. He simply leaves.

 

***

 

I need you to meet me by the Hathaway Bridge today at five. I need to see you.

 

H.

 

Yoongi puts down the letter. Something is horribly wrong.

 

The message itself is not of concern. It’s the fact that it’s not Hoseok who wrote it that is the main issue. Yoongi knows Hoseok’s handwriting well, particularly how illegible it is, and this is written in perfectly neat cursive. Someone is pretending to be Hoseok and someone is aware of his relationship with Hoseok – that he would meet him at Hathaway Bridge if Hoseok simply requested him too. To Yoongi, it means Hoseok is in trouble.

 

And if Hoseok is in trouble, Yoongi will go and try to save him. It doesn’t matter to him how awful their last conversation went – he knows simply what his conscience demands of him, and he would rather make a mistake now than live with yet another regret.

 

Yoongi’s mind naturally thinks Kang has captured him. Kang knows they used to be friends. Maybe he doesn’t know the true extent of Yoongi’s affection for Hoseok, or that he would still – despite everything – come to his aid but maybe he could’ve guessed it. Maybe Hoseok was forced to tell him. What does Kang want to do with Yoongi? He’s not sure. But he’s not going to pace around trying to figure it out.

 

He puts on his cloak, takes his knife and sword, and he rides out to the bridge.

 

It’s not a long ride, but it is decisively unpleasant. It’s not raining but the crisp winter chill bites at his cheeks and roughens the skin of his dry hands. Yoongi tries to remain calm as his horse gallops up the coarse terrain but he can imagine Hoseok already in danger, Kang holding him by the neck over the nearby ledge that steeps down to a shallow river that does nothing to prevent the fatal outcome of a fall. Yoongi grits his teeth and steadies his white ghost breaths. He can’t think Hoseok would let himself fall into such a predicament, and yet, it’s all thinks about.

 

When Yoongi arrives at the bridge, he dismounts his horse and surveys the area. It’s hard to miss the short wooden bridge that connects the two sides of the mount slopes. This area is mainly made up of densely packed trees and muddy ground covered in fallen leaves and loose branches.

 

There isn’t a single sound. Yoongi unsheathes his knife and walks slowly, looking around at the scenery. He doesn’t see nor smell Hoseok, but his nose finds it hard to pick up any particular scent over the stench of dirt. He stays far away from the steep drop and he almost relaxes before he hears a branch snapping. He turns around and sees him - Kang Kyubok.

 

It seems he was right about at least one thing.

 

‘Well, if it isn’t Min Yoongi,’ He says, in his characteristically deep voice that seems to ring out in the otherwise desolate surroundings.

 

Kyubok hasn’t changed much in the past while. He’s still tall and slender, with naturally mischievous eyes and long hair he ties in a topknot. Yoongi can almost hear his thunderous laugh when they had drinks and told jokes around the fire. But knowing Kang hurt Hoseok dispels all those memories. He’s just an enemy now. They all became enemies.

 

‘Kang Kyubok,’ Yoongi says. He lowers his knife, but he doesn’t sheath it. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’

 

‘I think you know.’

 

‘You didn’t need to fake a letter,’ Yoongi says, almost as if he finds the whole thing very humours. No need to come out too prickly. ‘You could have signed it yourself.’

 

‘I didn’t think you’d find the time for me,’ Kang says, stepping close. His hands are behind his back, and it’s alarming. Yoongi tenses his shoulders. ‘But I was right you’d still find time for Jung Hoseok.’

 

‘I knew the letter was fake. I wanted to see who wrote it and why.’

 

‘That’s very astute of you.’

 

‘Are you working with Hoseok?’ Do you have Hoseok? Did you hurt him?

 

‘No. Let’s just say Jung was not fond of my business ideas,’ Kang says, looking off into the distance like he finds this whole thing very theatrical. He has always been a very theatrical man. ‘But perhaps you are.’

 

Yoongi frowns. This must be about his desire to ascend to the throne, but pretends to be clueless. ‘What do you mean?’

 

Kang steps closer. ‘I’ll say it simply. Let’s kill Jung Hoseok together and take the throne. We have a very mutually beneficial partnership.’

 

Yoongi feels disgusted hearing those words. He shakes his head. ‘I can kill Jung Hosoek just fine on my own. Can’t you?’

 

‘Well, clearly, you can’t. You’ve been trying for a year and failing,’ Kang says with a bitter expression. ‘I, on the other hand, have a small ground of people who would favour me on the throne. And really, hyung, you are not a favourite. Really, most of the court hate you because of the rumour that your parents killed the king. Even if you kill Hoseok, you are not better off. But together, we can turn the tide and govern.’

 

Yoongi wants to laugh but his growing awareness of the danger of the situation prevents him to do so. Is this what he proposed to Hoseok? ‘You’re insane.’

 

‘I am logical. You forgot you need alliances to lead. I have those.’

 

‘I have alliances, and I don’t need your help.’

 

‘I think you just don’t have the guts to kill Jung Hoseok.’

 

Yoongi grits his teeth. ‘And I think you’re coming to the wrong person to hire as your henchman. Do your own dirty fucking work.’

 

Yoongi thought Kang might get really angry at hearing those words spat from Yoongi’s mouth. But more bizarrely, Kang smiles. He smiles so mischievously Yoongi feels a bead of sweat crawl down his spine despite the relentless brisk chill blowing over them.

 

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Kang says. ‘I don’t need to.’

 

Yoongi is about to ask what the hell that means, but he has no time to – he feels a knife carve into his lower back before he can speak. Yoongi has been cut before, he has, but never quite stabbed like this and never when he was so warm-blooded and unprepared. There is no adrenaline in his system to mask the agonising amount of pain that blinds him and weakens him immediately. He gasps, but he can’t breathe. His hands and legs go completely numb under him and he falls to his knees, the blood-curdling pain screaming from the wound over his body. He only sees a shadow step in front of him, but everything is blurry and he feels horribly dizzy, like he could throw up his guts.

 

Faintly, he hears, ‘Oh, Yoongi. I thought you were smarter. I really thought you were smarter. But you did always have a soft spot for Hoseok. He has always been your weakness.’

 

‘Where- where is he?’ Yoongi wheezes. He sees now his first theory was correct.

 

Yoongi doesn’t expect a response. He expects for black to envelope him and for him to die without even knowing where Hoseok really is. But in the distance, he hears something – a shout, a voice he recognises – and he turns his head. He blinks and his eyes focus on two people moving, metal clanking. He sits back on his knees. His hand goes to reach for his wound but then he hears:

 

‘Yoongi!’

 

Hoseok’s voice. That’s Hoseok’s voice. Yoongi blinks and he can see him. He’s fighting Kang, the two of them having a bitter dual with their swords.

 

He’s here. He’s alive.

 

‘Get up!’ Hoseok shouts. Yoongi knows he’s talking to him because there is no one else on their knees. He sees another two men approach Hoseok, and Hoseok’s- he’s outmanned. In danger. Something stirs in Yoongi and he finds some strength and clarity of mind to position one of his legs in front of him and stand to his feet by holding onto a nearby tree. He doesn’t know where his knife is but he knows his sword is still at his waist, so he reaches for that. It’s probably the better weapon for this anyway. He struck on his left, so he can still use his right hand with moderate ability.

 

Yoongi uses speed to dive the sword into the back of one of the two other men – Kang’s lackeys, most likely – and he slices him clean, aiming for one of the ribs over his heart. They were stupid enough to come without any armour, and Yoongi knows how to kill people well by now. That was pretty tough, but removing the sword from the body is somehow the harder, more tedious part. Yoongi would be in danger if Hoseok hasn’t already used the element of surprise to fatally cut the other man’s throat. Kang is still standing, but he has a nasty cut on his leg. The fury in his eyes is something Yoongi can recognise.

 

‘You two,’ He shouts, his breath ragged. ‘You’ve been working together all along. That’s why-’

 

‘You’re such a fucking coward you couldn’t finish me off properly, you bastard,’ Hoseok snarls, and he goes for Kang again. Kang seems to be more prepared this time because he fights back the attack and manages to slice Hoseok’s arm. Yoongi body goes hot with rage seeing Hoseok wince, blood trickling over his black sleeve, and he finally gets the sword out of the man he killed. He looks at Hoseok, who meets his eyes, and he gestures to the back of Kang’s neck. Hoseok doesn’t acknowledge it, but Yoongi knows he knows what Yoongi has requested – get Kang to have his back facing Yoongi.

 

Yoongi falls to his knees, faking being too weak to continue. Kang smiles at that, and attacks Hoseok in a frenzy again, which Hoseok defends well. They’re lucky Kang has never been the most skilful of swordsmen. They scrap, and Hoseok makes sure Kang has his back to Yoongi within a few moves. Yoongi leaves his sword behind and instead stands quietly and grabs his knife, which still lays by the mud.

 

‘You really couldn’t let this go,’ Kang’s hoarse voice says as he tries to strike Hoseok in the chest. ‘Surely, you knew the letter was fake. But you dragged yourself into this trouble for him. Just like last time.’

 

‘You’re a fucking bastard for trying twice.’

 

‘Your problem has always been that you’re too emotional, Hoseok. How were you ever going to be king when you wear all your emotions in your sleeve.’ Kang slices Hoseok’s arm again. Yoongi forces himself to not react as he inches closer. Hoseok doesn’t even wince as he defends another attack from Kang.

 

Their swords press against one other, the metal scraping with a horrible clinking noise. Kang leans close, and he laughs right in Hoseok’s face. He shakes his head and Yoongi sees his free hand is reaching for the knife behind him. Yoongi has to attack now.

 

‘You couldn’t even hate him, could you?’

 

Kang reaches for the knife. Yoongi stabs him from behind, right below his ribs. Kang shouts horrendously and clings to his side, dropping his sword. Hoseok doesn’t hesitate to finish the job, cutting across Kang’s neck cleanly. The body falls to the mud, and if the blood pooling around didn’t confirm his demise, then his blank eyes would.

 

Yoongi and Hoseok breathe hard as they stare at the man’s body. It’s a mercy died without smiling – if he had, that would have been a bitter irony. Yoongi looks at Hoseok, who looks back at him with a pale expression as his eyes fall down to Yoongi’s torso.

 

‘Oh, Yoongi.’

 

Yoongi’s body seems to give up on him then. His legs fail under him and he would’ve fallen if it wasn’t for Hoseok reaching for him and seizing his body, pressing him close to his own. Yoongi feels weak, his vision blurring out again. His mind tells him he’s bleeding out a lot but he doesn’t even feel it – he just feels tired. He feels tired.

 

‘Hoseok-’

 

‘Hey, hyung, stay with me,’ Hoseok demands, lifting him up. Yoongi doesn’t have any energy to walk on his own two feet and Hoseok soon realises that. Instead, he picks him up by his knees and makes a dash towards somewhere Yoongi doesn’t know.

 

Yoongi only sees passing colours. Hoseok smells like pine and mint. Oh, what a familiar scent. He knows this scent so well. It’s been a month since he last saw Hoseok, but it might have been a day, an hour. It’s all so familiar. His body is dry, but he says, ‘Hoseok-’

 

‘Save your strength,’ Hoseok orders. ‘Stay awake.’

 

‘I- I don’t-’

 

‘You have to stay with me. God, please-’

 

‘Hoseok, I-’

 

‘Shh, be quiet. Your home is not far from here. Be quiet.’

 

Yoongi feels a natural inclination to obey Hoseok. But he also knows this might be the last time. He’s not scared as he murmurs, ‘I love you.’ He never got to say it to his parents for the last time, so he won’t miss that opportunity again. He’s not sure Hoseok heard him because Hoseok’s response is distant noise he cannot fully register. All he feels is pain as his body is manoeuvred on top of something rigid, and then darkness.

 

***

 

When Yoongi wakes up, the first thing he detects is strong scent of hearty pine and mint, and that he’s in a hell of a lot of pain.

 

He blinks his eyes and he’s surprised that his vision comes into focus fairly quickly. He’s in bed – he instinctively recognises his surroundings as his room. He tries to sit up to see how the hell and why the hell he’s here but hands immediately appear at his shoulders and a soothing voice says, ‘You need to lay down. Your wound might open again.’

 

Hoseok. Hoseok is here. Of course, Hoseok is here.

 

‘What happened?’ Yoongi groans. He does go back down to the mattress. That feels more comfortable anyway.

 

‘Do you remember anything?’

 

Flashes of a battle with Kang appear in his mind, as if prompted to play back in his mind. Him being stabbed by someone he doesn’t know, three men, Hoseok killing Kang after Yoongi stabbed him. Yoongi passing out.

 

‘I do.’

 

Hoseok takes a deep breath. ‘Good. I got you here and I’ve been trying to nurse you back to health,’ Hoseok says. A hand passes over Yoongi’s forehead, and Yoongi turns his neck to see Hoseok, sitting right by his bedside, Yoongi’s armchair pulled against the bed. He’s wearing a long robe – Yoongi’s robe – and his hair is tied in a bun with loose strands of hair framing his face. A candle flickers and shadows play hide and seek in the contours of his face. He looks perfectly angelic and tired.

 

‘How long has it been?’

 

‘Two days. I called a healer here and he said that you might- you might have lost too much blood.’ Hoseok’s touch is comfortable as his thumb swipes over Yoongi’s cheekbone. Yoongi leans into the gesture. ‘I thought you were going to die. Particularly when you passed out.’

 

‘I thought you wanted me to die.’

 

‘Please, don’t say that. Don’t bicker with me. I-’ Hoseok looks away but his face is turned towards the fire and Yoongi sees tears forming in his eyes. His face scrunches up, a sheet of paper crumpling in a fist, and he lets out a loud sob. Yoongi feels a wave of guilt crash over. Against Hoseok’s advice, Yoongi sits up and he reaches for Hoseok’s hand.

 

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.’

 

Hoseok’s tears have spilled over to his cheeks, and he continues to not meet Yoongi’s eyes. ‘I really thought it was all in vain. I kept walking in thinking your scent had gone and your heart had stilled. It was so- so slow at one point, I really-’

 

‘I’m here, petal. I’m here. I’m going to be fine,’ Yoongi pulls Hoseok by the wrist to come sit on the bed with him. Hoseok is still crying desperately, so Yoongi pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him and tucking Hoseok’s head against his chest. It hurts to use his left arm but he keeps Hoseok in a tight hug as the younger cries softly into his skin. ‘I’m going to be alright.’

 

‘You were so stupid to go,’ Hoseok whispers, his voice wet. His arms circle around Yoongi’s back and he pulls himself close to Yoongi. Yoongi closes his eyes, his heart beating faster in his chest. If Hoseok wanted his pulse to be stronger, he sure found a method. ‘You must have known the letter was fake.’

 

‘And you didn’t know? Surely you knew too.’

 

‘I knew what his plan was – I thought immediately he set you up. I was hoping to see first if you had fallen for it and then I saw you there. I saw them stab you. If I had only been there earlier-’

 

‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter,’ Yoongi strokes his fingers through Hoseok’s hair. It’s greasy at the roots and he wonders if Hoseok has been taking care of himself at all. He feels frail in Yoongi’s arms and his heart throbs in his chest. His pup. ‘How’s your arm? Did he cut too deep?’

 

‘It wasn’t too bad. I’m alright.’ Hoseok lifts his face. His cheeks are damp, pearly tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He cups Yoongi’s cheek in his hand and he shakes his head. ‘Why are you even worried about me? You most nearly died.’

 

‘I can’t help but be worried about you,’ Yoongi responds sincerely. Hoseok’s eyes meet Yoongi’s, and the air seems to shift.

 

Hoseok looks away, but he doesn’t look at the edge of breaking down. If anything, his expression remains open and soft. He swallows, then says, ‘I know it’s my fault. Everything that happened. I know it. I’ve had time to reflect on everything from a new perspective and I know it was my fault. What they did to you, to your- parents- it was unforgivable. I know, I knew, and I wish- I wish-’

 

‘I played my part too. I know I have.’

 

‘I’ve been stubborn.’

 

‘I’ve been stubborn too.’

 

Hoseok shakes his head. ‘I’ve been particularly stubborn. There was so much I wanted to say to you before I left. I regretted it immediately when I walked through the door, but I didn’t have the courage to turn back around and tell you everything. I’m always so goddamn stubborn.’

 

‘That’s alright. I know.’

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi. His eyes sparkle once more with unshed tears, his lips quivering. He shifts closer on the bed, resting his hands against Yoongi’s cheeks. ‘Let me see say it to you now, if I may - I missed you. I wanted to spend time with you here because it almost felt like before and I miss you and then I felt awful but I did, I do. I was so stubborn and so angry with you and myself but- I know I shouldn’t have had sex with you drunk but I needed you and I- oh, you know I love you, don’t you?’

 

Yoongi smiles, his heart beating out of his chest with happiness. He almost doesn’t feel the throbbing wound at his side anymore his spit is so elated. How many people would he kill to hear those words? He nods, his hands finding Hoseok’s waist and pulling him closer, beckoning him to sit on his lap. ‘Of course I do.’

 

Hoseok wraps Yoongi up in a hug – a gentle but firm hug that stays clear of his wound – and he tucks his face in Yoongi’s neck. He inhales deeply, a deep inhale that is needy and desperate, and Yoongi feels the younger’s nose caress his scent gland and then his cracked lips kissing it. Yoongi feels molten lava circulate through his body, his hands flexing around Hoseok’s clothes. Hoseok licks over the gland, and Yoongi feels a shiver. Hoseok lets out a breathy moan, and inhaling again, he says, ‘I love your scent so much. You smell so good.’

 

Another kiss, Hoseok’s hand hovers over Yoongi’s waist and Yoongi wants to tear out his skin if it meant being closer to Hoseok. Yoongi leans into Hoseok’s neck, feels the sticky crook with his nose and rubs the younger’s scent gland. Hoseok exhales harshly, his hand gripping Yoongi’s waist as Yoongi kisses the gland delicately, like a flower, like it’s precious because it is. This is so fucking precious. He inhales the scent greedily, and licking over the gland carefully. Hoseok kisses Yoongi’s gland too, and Yoongi feels like he’s about to float to the ceiling with happiness. His wolf howls in his chest and he feels a giddy chuckle bubble in his throat.

 

‘Thank you for taking care of me,’ Hoseok says, his words muffled by Yoongi’s skin. ‘And for putting up with me, and I’m sorry and I forgive you, hyung. I do, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I really am, I swear-’

 

‘Shh,’ Yoongi whispers. Hoseok stills against Yoongi’s neck and Yoongi closes his eyes, running his hand down Hoseok’s back. ‘I missed you too. I love you.’

 

‘Hyung,’ Hoseok murmurs. He kisses Yoongi’s shoulder, his breath hot. ‘We’re not doomed. We’re not doomed. I refuse to believe it.’

 

‘We need to talk about what we’re going to do next.’ Yoongi pulls back and Hoseok looks up at him. Yoongi brushes away the wetness from under his eyes and adds, ‘We need to talk about everything.’

 

Hoseok closes his eyes as Yoongi’s fingers linger over his skin. ‘I’m willing to do that,’ Hoseok says, nodding. Yoongi feels content Hoseok looks more relaxed, his features more balanced, no more tears. He doesn’t want Hoseok to be distraught; he doesn’t deserve to feel that way.

 

When Hoseok opens his eyes, he blinks slowly and he crawls back on the bed. Yoongi is confused for a moment until Hoseok lowers his head slowly. Bowing. Bowing to Yoongi. Yoongi is stunned at the sight of it. It’s a sign of respect for Yoongi, something an alpha never does to another alpha of the same rank. Yoongi feels completely breathless, his hands falling down to his sides. Hoseok loving him is one thing, but Hoseok respecting him is something else altogether. It’s something he never even imagined.

 

Oh, my pup. My petal.

 

Yoongi touches the crown of Hoseok’s head, the matching gesture. Hoseok looks up and Yoongi sees the reverence in his eyes, bright and genuine like stars shimmering in the sky. Yoongi sits up with some effort, and he lowers his head in return. He can’t bow as far down as Hoseok, but Hoseok understands because he touches the crown of Yoongi’s head.  

 

Yoongi lifts his face and Hoseok is smiling softly. Yoongi returns his expression, his slow blinks mirroring Hoseok’s own. The younger shuffles forward again and brushes his nose against Yoongi’s and he chuckles briefly before he kisses Yoongi on the lips. Yoongi moans instantly. Yes, that’s the sweetest kiss Yoongi has ever had in his life, the most special kiss he has shared with the man he is infinitely tied to in this lifetime and most likely the next, too. Hoseok holds the back of Yoongi’s neck in his hand, his fingers brushing the hairs at the nape of Yoongi’s neck, and Yoongi knows he really could die now, and he would die happily.

 

But he’s not going to die. Hoseok took care of him, revived him, because he loves him. He loves him.

 

Yoongi pulls back. He looks at Hoseok, and he brushes the stray hairs away from his face. Hoseok closes his eyes delicately, a shy smile quirking his lips. Yoongi traces his cheekbone with his finger, and says, his voice thick with emotion, ‘You are certainly the prettiest creature I ever gazed upon.’

 

Hoseok’s grin widens, his cheeks darkening. He averts his eyes and shakes his head. ‘I’m a mess. I haven’t bathed in days.’

 

‘Let’s bathe together, then. I think I could use that, and some food.’

 

‘Are you feeling hungry? How’s the pain?’ Hoseok asks, pressing his hand to Yoongi’s forehead again.

 

‘I’m in a hell of a lot of pain, but potentially kisses and a bath will make me feel better.’

 

Hoseok chuckles. Yoongi is mesmerised by the sound. This is his Hoseok. This is his Hoseok. It’s like the past has presented itself to him, but this Hoseok has a few more scars and he’s so real. Tangible and material. That smile could never shine as bright in Yoongi’s memory as it does in real life.

 

‘I can arrange that.’ Hoseok pecks his lips and stands. ‘Let’s go run you a bath.’

 

‘I thought we were bathing together.’

 

‘I think you’re far dirtier than me.’

 

‘Are we sure about that?’

 

Hoseok laughs. In the end, they do bathe together. The tub can barely accommodate them both but Hoseok keeps Yoongi in his arms so he can’t have to lay down against the hard porcelain. They kiss and share hushed words under the candlelight. Yoongi absorbs each second like a dream – Hoseok talking openly, laughing, responding to Yoongi and being close to Yoongi and touching Yoongi. His touch is just as tender as it used to be, perhaps even more so now. Yoongi thinks maybe he has died and gone to heaven but then Hoseok accidentally bumps his wound as he helps him dry off and the pain that shoots up his stomach confirms its indeed reality. Oh, sweet reality.

 

‘Oh, sorry!’ Hoseok says, his face cringing a little as Yoongi regains the strength to breathe.

 

‘Still trying to kill me, huh?’

 

Hoseok laughs and rolls his eyes. He gives Yoongi his sleeping clothes and lets him dress himself as payback for his words. Yoongi smiles to himself and the smile only swells when he walks into the bedroom and sees Hoseok already laying down under the covers, clearly waiting for Yoongi to join him. Yoongi happily takes his place by his side and rejoices in how Hoseok takes him into his arms, kisses his face and neck and shoulder, and looks at Yoongi like he really does love him. With sparkling, twinkling eyes full of affection, a private intimate smile that is just for Yoongi to see. Like he really, truly means it. Hoseok cards his fingers through Yoongi’s hair and kisses him gently on the lips.

 

‘Hoseok?’ Yoongi whispers.

 

‘Yes?’

 

‘Are you sure you’ve forgiven me?’

 

Hoseok looks at Yoongi, his expression is a little more serious as he says, ‘It’s as you said, forgiveness is voluntary. I want to forgive you. And I care for you, despite trying so many times to stop. I can’t stop caring for you.’

 

Hoseok brushes his nose against Yoongi’s. Yoongi closes his eyes, his wolf settling in his chest.

 

‘Is that enough?’

 

Yoongi nods. ‘It is. It is.’

 

Yoongi melts into Hoseok’s warm body, and his nose detects a pleasant scent before he falls asleep again – pine and orange blossom.

 

***

 

One year later.

 

Yoongi walks into Hoseok’s office. He’s not there out of his own volition but rather because he was summoned there by one of the guards. The door was already ajar before he stepped in, and he finds Hoseok facing the window overlooking the lush palace gardens. The winter followers that were planted only a month prior are thriving in the cold conditions, and Hoseok enjoys the colourful sight. Yoongi often has to bite back the comment that the flowers could never be as beautiful as him.

 

‘Your majesty,’ Yoongi says, shutting the door behind him. ‘How may I be of service?’

 

Hoseok turns around, a smile already gracing his blushed lips. He always looks handsome in his royal blue robes, but Yoongi has a slight preference for the navy velvet set he’s wearing today. His hair is still in the braid that Yoongi did for him in the morning. Sometimes the attendants undo the braid because it’s not fit for a king to have his hair in any other hairstyle besides a topknot, but sometimes Hoseok is stubborn. It seems today, he was stubborn. It makes Yoongi smile foolishly.

 

Yoongi walks towards the younger man, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. He bows down low and Hoseok laughs.

 

‘It’s been a long day today,’ Hoseok says. ‘I’ve had back-to-back meetings all day, about the most boring affairs. I’ve completely lost count of how many tonnes of wheat we can expect for the harvest next year.’

 

‘That sounds absolutely dreadful, my lord,’ Yoongi teases, brushing a lock of hair behind Hoseok’s ear. ‘How can you prevent the oncoming famine if you don’t know this?’

 

Hoseok chuckles, resting his forehead against Yoongi’s shoulder. ‘Don’t even joke about that, hyung. A famine is the last thing we need right now.’

 

‘I think you worry too much. The kingdom is thriving in every way. You need to worry less.’

 

‘I’m trying to,’ Hoseok says with a little pout, his hands coming up to smooth the collar of Yoongi’s shirt. ‘That’s why I called you here.’

 

Yoongi smirks. ‘What do you need, your majesty?’

 

‘Just my husband,’ Hoseok says, wrapping his arms around Yoongi, pulling him close. ‘Just need my mate.’

 

Yoongi softens. He wraps Hoseok up in a tight hug and takes a deep breath. He did sense Hoseok was a bit tired through their bond, but he knows Hoseok prefers to be the one to ask for help as opposed to Yoongi handing it to him when he thinks he needs it. That’s one of the things they needed to learn when navigating their newfound relationship – when to give and when to take, how to manage Hoseok’s role as the king, how to deal with their usual tendency to withdraw when they’re not happy with something. Yoongi reckons they’ve done well, all in all. Hoseok needed him, and he asked for him. Yoongi is needed, and he will give Hoseok anything he asks for. Always.

 

‘I don’t wish to dine with court tonight,’ Hoseok whispers, weary that anyone else overhears. ‘I want just us in our chambers. You must fake being ill so we have an excuse to withdraw.’

 

Yoongi chuckles. ‘Why don’t you fake being sick yourself?’

 

‘Because then they will just fuss over me. I don’t want to be fussed over, at all,’ Hoseok kisses Yoongi’s scent gland, and then the mating mark right below it. ‘Not unless it’s you.’

 

‘Hm, fine. I’ll pretend to be dreadfully sick. I don’t particularly enjoy dining with court either, to be honest.’ Yoongi kisses Hoseok’s cheek. He strokes the skin of his cheek with his thumb and smiles. ‘May I have a kiss for my troubles?’

 

Hoseok smiles. He leans in and kisses Yoongi on the lips, a sweet, inspiring kiss Yoongi would most certainly do any type of foolishness to receive. For his mate, there is hardly anything he wouldn’t do. Ask him to plunge a knife into his chest for Hoseok, and he would do it. Hoseok has done similar sacrifices for Yoongi, particularly marry and mate him after Hoseok took the throne when everyone despised Yoongi and advised him against it over and over again. But Hoseok protected him, kept him by his side, at every turn, through every hardship. Is that not worth every bit of devotion in return?

 

‘Thank you, baby,’ Hoseok whispers. Hoseok takes Yoongi’s hand and kisses his wedding ring, the bright gold band that shimmers under the nearby candlelight.

 

‘You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, pup.’ Yoongi parts ways with Hoseok, and goes off to pretend to be horribly sick. He thinks he did a rather good job because they achieve their aim of being allowed to go into their chambers and dine alone for the night, where Hoseok shares all the horribly boring things he needed to do as Yoongi feeds him bites of lamb and Yoongi talks about going horseback riding to the woods. The perks of the being the king’s husband and having almost no responsibilities.

 

Hoseok is tired from a long days’ work, and Yoongi helps him bathe and dress for the night. Hoseok is clingy when he’s worn, and he makes Yoongi scent him for some time before he finally settles in to sleep. He doesn’t do so before he whispers, ‘Goodnight, hyung. I love you.’

 

Yoongi smiles, his wolf settling in his chest. Those words feel so much more powerful when he can feel Hoseok’s unbridled love through their bond. ‘I love you too, petal.’

 

Yoongi enjoys the times where he doesn’t fall asleep right away because he gets to watch his soulmate in restful slumber. The soft lines of his face, the way his hair spills over his pillow like black water curling over snow. It soothes him into his own sleep, his quiet contentment soothing his wolf and causing a low purr to rumble in his chest. They share a happy life, far away from the dark past. The journey was tumultuous but he achieved his one, true aim – he has Hoseok. Hoseok is his.

Notes:

Wowie I hope you guys all loved that so much!! Yoongi in this second chapter was definitely a lot less unhinged, but it felt like a natural progression in his character since having sex at the end of the previous story gave him a lot of Feelings. Hoseok flip flops a lot but I hope it was made aparent why that is. They're so cute though and I loved writing their bickering just as much as their fluff at the end <33

If you enjoyed it, please do leave me a comment as they mean so much to me <3

I'm done with this mini oneshot and I'm hoping to move on to some other, half-written fics! See you all next time <3