waking up in the morning together.
He can feel the sun streaming down on his skin, warming the sheets.
Yoongi cracks open an eye, rubs his face sleepily with the heel of a palm, and turns to press his nose into Hoseok’s hair, mouthing a kiss to the nape of his neck. Hoseok only stirs lightly, leaning back into Yoongi, and Yoongi reaches over to curl his fingers into the spaces between Hoseok’s own, that are squeezed between the edge of the pillow, and the mattress. “Wake up,” says Yoongi, voice still a low rumble, and he kisses the line of Hoseok’s jaw, moving his mouth up to the corner of his lips, smiling when Hoseok makes a sleepy noise, and turns over on his back. “Hoseok.”
“Yoongi,” says Hoseok, eyes still shut, “it’s so early.”
It’s almost funny how Hoseok is generally the more cheerful of the two, but when it comes to early mornings after late nights, Yoongi will be the one who tucks the covers down, turns the alarm off, and wakes Hoseok with light hands and a lighter grin, when the curtains begin to glow.
“And?” prompts Yoongi. He shifts over to straddle Hoseok by the hips, and he thumbs his way across the pretty angles of Hoseok’s face, along his chin, the curve of his nose, the little crinkles of the corners of his eyes, and Hoseok bursts out into a little laugh, scratchy with six-hour sleep, when Yoongi leans down to nudge their noses together. “Mm. Hello.”
“Hello,” says Hoseok, finally opening his eyes, still looking weary, but his smile is the brightest thing on earth, and Yoongi loves it. “It’s a Saturday.”
“And,” sings Hoseok, dragging the word out, “don’t the words ‘sleeping in’ ring a bell?” His arms rise to sling around Yoongi’s shoulders loosely, and his fingers slip into the back of Yoongi’s mussed-up hair, gently tugging. “Please,” he whines, but Yoongi never gives in to him. “Yoongi.”
“What’s in it for me?” Yoongi watches the way Hoseok’s face changes, just the slightest, and oh, he thinks, as Hoseok tugs him down to press their lips together, just soft, slow, like the light that laughs and bounces and flits across the room from the corner of the window. Hoseok loves kissing, and Yoongi loves indulging him in them, these deep, slow caresses that make his teeth ache and his toes curl when Hoseok swipes his tongue along the roof of Yoongi’s mouth and curls his mouth over Yoongi’s lower lip, sucking in as his teeth scrape along the bottom.
He could spend all day like this. Forever, like this. Just him, and Hoseok, and these lazy morning kisses, the palms of his hands skimming under Hoseok’s crumpled white t-shirt. Suddenly, the idea of staying in bed seems more appealing than getting up.
“Again,” murmurs Hoseok, when Yoongi pulls away. So impatient, this kid, thinks Yoongi, and he kisses Hoseok again, tiny little pecks on his mouth, again and again and again, until Hoseok is smiling so widely that Yoongi can’t help but smile too. “Just half an hour?”
Yoongi sighs, and drops back into bed beside him, draping an arm across Hoseok’s front. “Fine, but you’re making breakfast.”
Hoseok curls up into his arms, in that weird way that he always sleeps, and murmurs into the curve of Yoongi’s neck, “Gonna be the best breakfast you’ve ever had.”
“You’re probably just going to make scrambled eggs,” whispers Yoongi, and Hoseok hushes him, pulls the blanket back up, and kisses under his ear.
They wake up an hour and a half later. Hoseok makes scrambled eggs. Yoongi sighs.