CYPHER | BTS

17: FRIENDS DON'T KISS

- S E V E N T E E N -

May 09, 2020
Saturday
Concert Day, Day 1

📍Dallas, Texas
Performing at: Cotton Bowl Stadium

༺❀༻

Choi June

Fluttering my eyes open from my sleep, I find myself still in the bright room of Hoseok. Most times I don't remember falling asleep, but I remember it perfectly last night. Yoongi went to the bathroom after what we did in Hoseok's bed, and before he could return, I had fallen asleep.

In my undergarments, I stir in the sheets and stretch my limbs above my head. I cannot believe whatever happened last night happened. I was feeling an all too powerful level of confidence I couldn't even begin to describe and Yoongi is the first person to ever see it.

The satisfaction with how I acted last night etches itself into my body as a small smile spreads across my groggy face. It led to me initiating kissing him first, which is something I have never done—not even with my ex. And even if my heart was pounding in my chest, it was a satisfying feeling.

It also led to his cock in my mouth. Again. And I'm so happy with that, you have no idea.

My hand blindly reaches beside me on the bed, but when it falls onto the duvet instead of a body, I turn my head to find that the bed is empty but ruffled, meaning Yoongi did in fact sleep beside me last night. Confused, I lift myself onto my elbows and scan the room.

When I see him, I acknowledge the feeling of relief I feel in my chest. He may not be a cuddle-person, but at least he didn't completely ditch me after what happened last night.

He sits at the end of the bed on the floor. I can only see the back of his shoulders and his head, a black hoodie thrown over his messy hair. I can hear the faint hum of music coming from his earbuds and the sensitive scratch of a pencil on a piece of paper.

I crawl my way over to him and quickly peek over his shoulder. He's writing in a journal. Cute.

His handwriting is messy. I don't know why I never thought about what his handwriting might look like. Is it possible to find handwriting attractive? Because I do. And somehow, I don't find it weird one bit.

But when I see that he's writing lyrics, my curiosity bursts through my body and before I can thoroughly think it through, I snatch the journal from his hands.

He rips his earbuds from his ears and turns around fast enough to see me fall onto the bed on my back, hovering the journal over my face and trying to scan every word before he can snatch it back.

"I thought pick-pocketers were supposed to steal stuff from people. Not get stuff stolen from them," I tease him, a smirk on my face. His lyrics are messily written, some words crossed out and some words squished into the sentences. The title has been erased so many times, I can see the history of every single title before the current one.

Because I gawk too long at the title, I miss reading the lyrics before the journal is snatched away from my vision and replaced with Yoongi instead. He hovers over me with a hard stare in his eyes. If anything, his gaze just makes me wet. Not scared.

"You're writing a song about me." It's not a question. I know, because I saw the title. And if the title is not answer enough, then I don't know what is.