lovestrippedbare | 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕔𝕠

"Maybe they just need to be guided by Min Yoongi's passion," Jungkook says, half-joking as he leans over to briefly nuzzle his nose against Yoongi's hair. Even though Jungkook's always had an appreciation for classical music — an appreciation for all forms of music, really — he can't deny that his interest has heightened a great deal since meeting Yoongi, since getting to watch and hear Yoongi leaning into all of the voices that rise and fall over the course of a piece.

"They just need to spend some time with you in front of a piano. Or have you walk them through all the notable details of a recording," Jungkook decides, shifting the ddeokbokki cup around in his hand, fingers nudging so that it turns slowly, counterclockwise. "'Cause maybe it's... harder to hear the language, I guess, when you don't know what you're listening for."

Yoongi smiles warmly at the sweet touch of Jungkook against his hair. It's the little things like that, thoughtless gestures, as if they can't quite contain their love, as if it all spills over, that make Yoongi so happy. He hardly needs proof of Jungkook's affection, but he enjoys receiving it all the same.

"Maybe," he says. He picked up that kind of thing young, listening to his mother. Other people probably just aren't as lucky as he's been. Or maybe they simply don't have any taste. It could be either one. "I taught you well, after all. But you were already receptive. Other people just don't get it."

"Would you think less of me if part of that interest was driven by my interest in you?" Jungkook asks curiously, raising a brow. It's not untrue. While Jungkook's never been disparaging about music, he's not sure if he would have sought it out with quite as much fervor if it weren't for how striking Yoongi was when he sat at the piano, filling their little classroom with music, the perfect backdrop to any mood. He remembers researching every piece Yoongi played, eventually branching out to all the various composers.

The day he'd discovered Chopin was like a little victory, the first preference he'd built outside of what he had experienced through Yoongi alone.

"Because there was definitely a bit of that crush factor, you know. I really, really wanted to impress you. Or at least be taken somewhat seriously," Jungkook adds with a solemn nod.

"Of course I don't think less of you," Yoongi says, shrugging. "I don't think it really matters how a person ends up liking a thing so long as they really like it. And I like the way you watch me play."

He probably should have known long ago that Jungkook's rapt attention came from a place of attraction, but he was always so caught up in the music, he never noticed. He notices it now, how Jungkook watches while his hands skim over the keys, how his mistakes born of distraction are because of Yoongi and not simply him not paying attention. Even now, with months of this relationship behind them, he finds it thrilling, flattering, to know Jungkook wanted to impress him.

"Some people would totally make fun of me for it, I think. The same way that everyone scoffs at people who get into a drama just because they think the actor's hot, or whatever. But I guess my love of music goes a lot further now than just being into your hands," Jungkook grins, lifting Yoongi's hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, then trailing his lips along each finger, to the tip.

"But now I could school all of them on my knowledge of the Romantic period, so screw 'em," Jungkook murmurs, lifting Yoongi's hand further until he's able to press his lips against Yoongi's pulse point. It's a good thing, he thinks, that they still have a while to go yet on this street, no need to watch for turns or directions.

"Screw 'em," Yoongi agrees, fingertips tracing along Jungkook's jaw, his pulse fluttering under the press of his lips. The way Jungkook treats him always leaves him a little in awe; it's not like he's something fragile, it's that he's to be cherished, every bit of him worthy of reverence. He's never seen himself that way, but Jungkook does, and Yoongi never gets over it. Surely his parents felt he was something precious when he was little, but even that was different and very long ago.

He could, he thinks, stop right here in the middle of the sidewalk and kiss Jungkook. Screw 'em. The last thing he wants, though, is to mar this trip with any trouble that might come of it. On the beach, he tells himself. They'll find some privacy by the water and then he'll kiss him until they can barely catch their breath.

"If you found something you really love, who cares how you got there?"

"Like how it took me playing hooky from class to find you?" Jungkook jokes, his expression fond as the both of them drop their hands again, walking side by side, too close to really be mistaken as friends alone, Jungkook thinks. He remembers how nervous he'd been when he had initially met Yoongi — how, of all the boys in that classroom, Yoongi seemed the most reserved, the most distant. Jungkook was the sort of person back then who needed almost tangible reassurances, needed to know that he wasn't being a bother. But Yoongi was a person for whom one had to read between the lines.

Jungkook had only started to better understand after Yoongi first took to the piano bench, mapping out emotions on the keys that one could never discern in his expression.

He started going to the classroom every day, if only for the chance of getting to hear those melodies.

"I think it's kinda romantic, though. Forbidden love and all that," he grins.

Yoongi shakes his head at him, fond. "What, you and me?" he asks. Half the time or more, he forgets that's even the case. Even at home, they live so much in their own little world, kept safe staying in their small circle of friends. It's only when they move beyond that or around their parents that he becomes more aware of how dangerous this still could be for them.

But they're safe here, he reasons, just another pair of tourists, no one paying them much attention.

Already he can smell the salt sting of the ocean on the air, though he's not sure they're all that close quite yet. It's refreshing, putting him in mind of trips to the beach with the others, watching them race down the shore. The beach has always felt like a place of freedom.

"It is sort of romantic," he agrees, "when it isn't just annoying."

"True, I guess it's kind of annoying that we can't be all over each other like some other couples," Jungkook muses, wondering how differently they'd behave if there was no chance of such deep scrutiny from society. He can imagine constantly pulling Yoongi off to the side of the street, hands around his waist, laughing as he peppers Yoongi's cheek with kisses, dodging any that Yoongi might try and return.

Yoongi would probably be the shier of the two, even without a cloud of judgment over them, but Jungkook's sure that he'd be able to win the elder over with his enthusiasm.

"We'll just have to hope that Korea starts turning around. I mean, there are Pride parades and all that now, right? I've never been to one personally, but I always heard about them on the news," Jungkook murmurs. "It might be really nice to go to one of those. As long as we're not in the front row of the audience or anything, it's not like anyone would find out, right? There's way too many people to pick us out from the crowd."

It's maybe too much spectacle for Yoongi's tastes, but he likes the sentiment behind such parades, at least. It's nice to imagine that, one day, things might change, even if it leaves him feeling more rueful about the current state of things than hopeful for the future. Maybe someday, though, it won't matter if anyone sees them -- not that they'd change their parents' minds, but that they'll get away from them soon enough that it won't matter what those people think.

"Maybe," he allows. It's doubtful any of their classmates would go. In fact, most of the people who show up to such a parade are likely to be the kind who wouldn't tell on them, who probably know how much some people still need to hide. He remembers what Seokjin said about Pride in America, how that was the first time he kissed a boy; maybe just being in that crowd grants people a certain kind of courage. "We could try next time one happens."

On its surface, a Pride parade is probably the opposite of what Yoongi would enjoy. Too loud, too colorful, too open — and Jungkook can't help but laugh when Yoongi agrees to go, because who would've thought it possible upon first meeting him? The image still feels a little mismatched now, but Jungkook likes that there's really only one set of circumstances that he can imagine Yoongi going — if it's hand in hand with Jungkook, both of them reveling in their love and showing it off to the world.

"We could try," Jungkook agrees, looking pleased with himself as he swings their arms with a little more vigor, turning them down another corner, reveling in the smell of the ocean. "But we have to go all the way. Glitter. Body paint. I guess we're probably not as crazy as the States yet, so no need to take off your shirt or anything... though I wouldn't say no, if you were suddenly feeling inspired."

"I think I'll save that for when we're alone, thanks," Yoongi says, smirking. "And you are not covering me in glitter again." Not that his protest matters any, he knows. If they go to such an event, he's going to get glitter all over himself anyway, if only because it will somehow end up all over Jungkook, whether intentionally or otherwise. He's doomed.

Still, it's worth at least a token protest. Just getting him to one of those things should be enough, he figures. He doesn't like the cacophony and the crowds; the only reason he'd volunteer to go is because Jungkook wants it and because, admittedly, he likes the idea of being surrounded by people who genuinely don't give a shit who he loves.

"You can pour glitter on Jimin instead."

Jungkook tilts his head. "I'll allow it," he says in agreement to the line Yoongi proposes for privacy. As much as he likes the idea of showing his boyfriend off to the world, he's also perfectly content to let some things remain entirely for his own eyes. Especially since he doesn't particularly want to entice other queer men — he's pretty sure the beauty of Yoongi's features will do that all on their own. No need to urge them further.

"But we gotta do the glitter. You know there's going to be so much of it," Jungkook whines playfully, tugging at Yoongi's hand a few times. "Wouldn't you rather the glitter be from me than only from other people? Total strangers? If strangers get to glitter bomb you, I should at least get a go. I promise to at least stay out of your hair."

He lifts his chin with a smirk. "Besides, if I only hit Jimin hyung, you know he'd just grab enough bombs to make sure everyone gets glittered. There's no escape."

Yoongi tips his head back, groaning dramatically, and sighs. He hates to admit it, but Jungkook has a point. If the glitter doesn't come from Jungkook, someone else will cover him in it, probably Jimin.

"It gets stuck everywhere," he grumbles. "I was picking it off for days after Jin's birthday." It's only a token protest, though. Much as he might pretend to grouse, he knows there's little he'll say no to if Jungkook is the one asking. Sometimes, though, it's fun to make him ask a little more first. He can't very well just give in when it comes to something like glitter. "It'll find its way into my hair on its own."

He considers his options, sighing again. "But I guess there's no getting out of it now, is there?"

"I think it was a lovely touch," Jungkook snickers, recalling Jin's birthday party fondly. Sure, he'd gotten some scolding from his hyungs — mostly Jin himself, who was inevitably tasked with cleaning it all up — but the additional sense of festivity was more than worth it. Right down to all of the glitter that continued to trail Jungkook around for days after, drawing more than a little consternation from teachers at school.

"You could probably wash more of it out if you had help," he points out, raising his brow suggestively. "Weren't we so much better at getting clean when it was the two of us? Little more water usage, but..."

Jungkook stares down at his cup, debating the merits of continuing to hold Yoongi's hand versus eating more of his ddeok before they go cold.

Yoongi laughs. The words bring back flashes of memory, soapy touches and kisses under the falling water, and he wonders briefly how big the shower is in their room.

"Are you trying to seduce me into wearing glitter?" he asks, grinning even as he shakes his head at the idea of it. His resistance is purely a token anyway. He knows better than to think he can say no to Jungkook for long, even if it means his father fussing over the inevitable trails of glitter through the house. At least he has plenty of time to think of a good excuse for it. "Because that might work."

Jungkook finally relents, breaking away for a moment so that he can scoop up enough mouthful of ddeok, because he knows that once the dish has lost its heat, there's a good chance that the cakes will harden, which is the last thing that he wants. Besides, there will be no shortage of hand-holding today. Jungkook's pretty sure that they've never had quite as much freedom as they do now, not even when wandering the streets of Jongno. Here, no one knows them, no one can even really try — and there's more freedom in that than Jungkook quite knows what to do with.

It's part of what makes him smile more widely now, trying his best not to smear the peppery red sauce around in the process.

"I would be happy to seduce you into doing all the things, Yoongi-ah. You're so bad at saying no to this face."

Yoongi's half-forgotten about the cup in his hand, but Jungkook eating the ddeok reminds him to do the same. It's still warm and spicy and delicious, and he's pleased with his choice to go to that particular stall. Still, he pulls a face at Jungkook's words, mostly because they're true.

"I could say no if I wanted to," he counters. "I just don't want to." He likes being able to do whatever will make Jungkook happy, and so often the requests or desires are entirely within his power. There's too much he can't control in life. At least he can do this.

That, and he really is incredibly bad at saying no to Jungkook. He's just not about to admit that.

Edited 2019-03-20 21:53 (UTC)

"Uh-huh," Jungkook says slowly, the exaggerated tone making it clear that he's far from convinced. Of course, the reverse could probably be said of Jungkook; he's not sure if there's any request from Yoongi that he would readily turn down. It hasn't been an issue so far, Yoongi being far too unreasonable to even push at Jungkook's limits, but Jungkook's pretty sure that he would roll with just about anything Yoongi asks of him.

Probably.

"You could say no if you wanted to, which is how I've managed to rope you into getting glitter bombed?" Jungkook repeats, the raise of his brow and smirk on his lips doing more than their share of teasing. "So where do you draw the line, Min Yoongi?"

"Ah, we'll see when we get to that, won't we?" Yoongi says lightly, if for no other reason than because he legitimately can't think of a thing he wouldn't give Jungkook if he really wanted it. From the ridiculous to the extreme, it doesn't matter; he's already given Jungkook his heart. He might as well give him everything else.

"And I didn't say yes to getting bombed," he protests. "Just to allowing a little glitter. It'll rub off you onto me anyway." He doesn't even know when Pride is — is it an annual thing or does it just happen from time to time? — but he's definitely not allowing himself to be coated in body paint and glitter. It's just an acceptable cost for making Jungkook happy if a little of that glitter gets on him, is all.

Jungkook hums his skepticism when Yoongi turns around and protests the scale of the glitter bath. It's pretty thin ground to stand on, and Jungkook's sure that Yoongi knows it. First, it's a sprinkle of glitter. Then a handful. Then, unleashing all of the stores that Jungkook's brought to celebrate. One will lead to the other, and Jungkook doubts that Yoongi will do much more than whine and pout about it.

He takes a couple of bounding steps ahead, far enough that he's able to turn around, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that he won't run into anything while walking backwards.

"What if I said that seeing you get bombed would really make my day?" Jungkook asks, skewering another piece of ddeok and tucking it into his cheek. "Week? Month?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes, then glances instinctively beyond Jungkook to make sure he's not in danger of running into anything or falling. "Then I would say you're ridiculous," he says. "And that you're lying, because you wouldn't be that happy at my expense."

That is, if Yoongi really minded all that much, anyway. As it is, he's already resigned himself to being coated in the stuff, however much he intends to grouse about it. Because it's true: if it would make Jungkook happy, he'd let anyone throw glitter on him. It just means that the expedition is one he doesn't want to share with anyone else. As fun as it might be to invite the others, he's not going to put up with their mockery on top of all that glitter.

"Wouldn't I?" Jungkook asks, chewing on his ddeok and swallowing cleanly. He's pretty sure that he's not the only one in their group that takes a bit of pleasure from watching Yoongi be a bit of a grump — not on his darkest days, when the thoughts continue to take him down step by step, but when the irritants are relatively harmless. When it's clear that they're not so bad so as to drive him away.

Jungkook thinks it can't be helped; grumpy Yoongi is just so cute.

"I don't know, I think I like seeing you pout a lot. Or seeing, I don't know, the contrast between you and your environment. Like a person wearing black in a sea of color." Jungkook tilts his head. "But I bet you'd secretly love it. Especially if we chose a color that matched your hair."

Yoongi pulls a face, pouting without meaning to. In a strange way, it's reassuring; he's always been somewhat surprised he hasn't managed to chase off any of his friends yet when he gets into a mood. But Jungkook never seems to mind if he's a little grouchy at times, and Yoongi's long stopped expecting to scare him off.

"There's no way I'd secretly love it," he says wryly, pointing his chopsticks at Jungkook for emphasis. "It's an annoyance. I'm only agreeing to it because I like making you happy." If glitter is what it takes, then fine, he'll wear the fucking glitter and brave the noise of the parade. In the end, it'll be worth it. Any time they can get out in the world together and still feel safe to be just themselves is enough for him.

The little curl of Yoongi's lips is enough that Jungkook has to stifle his laughter, hiding it by skewering a fishcake and chewing it with relish. If only Yoongi had the slightest idea how cute he can be. If only the rest of the world knew how gentle Yoongi is at heart — he'd lose that reputation he carries at school for being intimidating, standoffish.

Jungkook can't imagine Yoongi ever being mean to someone who shows him love and affection.

"If you do something because you like seeing how it makes another person happy, isn't that kind of an indirect way of liking the thing?" Jungkook asks, pursing his lips. "I know there's a part of you that loves color, Min Yoongi. Just look at all the colors of the rainbow your hair has gone through."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject