We’ll Play The Game (Yoongi)
You’re sure love has a silent language you cannot fathom, and Min Yoongi has mastered the art of saying ‘I love you’ without moving his lips.
Warning : Smut
It is in the hot summer nights of July when the lines blur between today and tomorrow and all bad decisions are forgotten over night drives and long kisses when you meet the boy with the mint green hair and dark eyes that look like the color of home.
“Min Yoongi,” he tells you with a small smile that hangs off the edge of his lips, as if introductions were necessary with the way he was looking you up and down, like he didn’t have eyes for anyone else. In all fairness, you didn’t have eyes for anyone else either. No one had to know that, of course.
The first time you both do it, it is at Yoongi’s place. He peppers kisses from your jawline to your collarbone and every kiss he leaves burns hot like the summer sun and you’re left gasping and reaching for him because you can’t get enough of it. You want to eat him up in small bites till you’re full, want him to mark every inch of your skin and leave his fingerprints on your skin. And he does. He leaves them everywhere you can’t see when you put on your shirt. His mouth kisses every inch of you except your lips.
When he thrusts into you again and again till the bed creaks complain with your back against his mattress as you whimper under him, he doesn’t look into your eyes, doesn’t look at you at all but you don’t mind. Summer is the season of one night stands and strange hookups under the moonlight of a house you will regret waking up in.
And for now, that’s okay.
Hours later, he hands you your fourth cigarette and you light it up. You suck in deeply and watch the smoke trails that leave Yoongi’s lips as he stares out at the city below from the roof of his studio apartment. You try to hold on to the moment; Yoongi’s face illuminated under the moonlight breathing in the summer night and watching the city pass him by, cigarette between his lips in the 3 AM buzz of the July skyline.
It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
When he catches you staring, he smiles and the butt of his cigarette glows, but not brighter than his dark eyes that flash at you with a glow of their own and it is in that moment that you know you wouldn’t forget his name.
“Where were you all night?” Your roommate will ask when you get home in the morning.
“Out,” is all you will say in explanation.
October rolls around and you fall for Min Yoongi as easily as the leaves outside do when autumn is in the air.
The drive to Yoongi’s place is the waiting game. The flash in Yoongi’s dark eyes when he sees you at the doorway is the prize. And you’re a sucker for trophies.
The first time his name tumbles from your lips as he moves into you repeatedly, you can barely comprehend over your euphoria to notice.
“Yoongi,” you breathe out and he freezes above you.
Surprise registers on every inch of his expression, eyes finding yours in the dark of his bedroom and you realize what you’ve just done. It is a gentle step toeing the line outside one night stands and lovers, but a line is a line and Yoongi is aware of you crossing it.
“Sorry,” you mumble, face flushing a deep red, He clicks his tongue softly.
“No,” he says and you look at him confused.
“Say it again,” he says, snapping his hips forward, driving into you.
“Yoongi,” you moan and his eyes flutter shut.
And you do it, say his name again and again until you both come undone and he collapses on top of you. You wonder what lines you’ve crossed, wonder is you even care, wonder if Yoongi does. All you want is Yoongi to fall in love with every inch of your being the way you had already fallen for him.
But love wasn’t an easy game to play.
The winds are getting colder and you shiver a little in the thin shirt you’re wearing, and you let the cigarette warm you up as you and Yoongi whisper to each other on his rooftop that October night like the world would hear if you both spoke too loudly. You both would much rather stay away from the judging eyes of the world that scream disapproval at what you both do every Friday night. And you will not cross any other boundaries. Because leaving Yoongi tears at your heart every damn time and you treasure every second next to him before the sun rays tell you it was time to leave.
So when the sun is peeking over the horizon and words have died on Yoongi’s tongue, you crush the cigarette under your heel and head for the exit with a broken heart like you always have.
“It’s cold, you know,” Yoongi says softly without looking back. You don’t know how to respond.
“I know,” you say at last. He stands against the ledge of the roof, unmoving for a minute, like he’s content watching seconds slip to minutes and hours through his fingers that hold on to the post sex glow. Smoke trails leave his lips, twist and bend in the autumn air and disappear like secrets into the satin air. He looks like a picture you want to hang on your wall and stare at forever.
“Here,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and thrusting it towards you. You make no indication to take it. Your heart is pounding too hard in your chest to allow movement.
Yoongi clicks his tongue and pushes off the wall. He takes three long strides till his face is inches from yours. You wonder if he can hear your heart beat, the sound of your pulse that is ricochetting in your ears.
But he doesn’t. He reaches around you and drapes his jacket on your shoulders. In the soft glow of the sunrise, you can just make out the tinge of tainted pink cheeks on his expression.
“You don’t have to,” you say at last. His eyes look into yours and the grin he gives you incarnates the rest of your heart. He looks like he is about to say something but the words catch in his throat.
He runs his thumb along your lower lip and sighs. You wish he would kiss you senseless like you desperately wanted him to.
“I know,” is all he says.
“You know he’s going to hurt you,” your roommate says, rolling her eyes when she finds you in the morning eating cereal on the couch.
You don’t say anything at all. You snuggle into his jacket that smells like detergent and Min Yoongi and let his name roll off the crevices of your tongue and pretend, just for that moment, that Yoongi was yours and yours alone.
It felt better that it should have.
December rolls around the corner like the falling snow, soft and beautiful and Min Yoongi consumes your mind like an obsession.
The way he smiles and all his gums show with silent laughter. The way his too-long fringe sits just atop his dark eyes that dance in the dark when you’re under him. The way he sighs and a small frown will grace the creases of his forehead when something bothers him. The tiny mole on the left side of his neck.
Min Yoongi was living art, and you appreciated every inch of it.
“You’re here,” he says, eyebrows shooting up as he opens the door. You’ve never come without him calling you before.
“I am,” you agree. “I wanted to see you when the first snow fell.” Yoongi takes a moment to consider this.
“You’re supposed to spend the first snow with someone you love,” he says, like he still doesn’t get it. It’s almost maddening.
“I know,” you say, rolling your eyes and grabbing the front of his hoodie, tugging him down towards you. His eyes widen in amazement but you don’t care. You don’t care if he sleeps with other women or if he has no feelings for you at all. You don’t care if this one kiss ruins everything you both have had. All you care about is Min Yoongi kissing you, kissing you now, right here under the first snow, the way his lips taste like strawberries and smoke and falling in love, how his soft lips gently move against yours till you see stars, the way you’ve been dreaming about this since last July.
And damn, does Yoongi taste good.
When you break away, his forehead rests against yours with gentle fondness. That night, Yoongi teaches you the difference between fucking and making love. He whispers your name into your skin, kisses you again and again, holds you close when you both are done like he’s terrified to let you go. It’s more than everything you have ever imagined.
But you knew the drill of how the give and take of this one way relationship was supposed to work and how you’d ruined it all.
So when you get up to leave, you barely contain your yelp of surprise when his fingers find your wrist.
“Stay,” he murmurs, hint of desperation in his voice. His eyes look into yours and you think about how people fall in love in mysterious ways. Think of how you both played the game from July through December. Think of the spring that is coming that meant new beginnings like what Min Yoongi asking you to stay felt like.
Min Yoongi is still the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.
The December snow is cold and Min Yoongi is so, so deliciously warm. The decision is almost too easy.
“Okay,” you say.
Yoongi kisses you then and entwines his fingers in yours when you curl up into him and you’re sure love has a silent language you cannot fathom, and Min Yoongi has mastered the art of saying ‘I love you’ without moving his lips.
And for now, that’s okay.
Requested by anon based off Strange Love - Halsey.