Our Rain Soaked Bodies | YOONJIN

1. WET

IT'S STILL DARK outside by the time Seokjin wakes up.

He is an early riser, but 4 in the morning was still too early for anyone to be awake. Nevertheless, he couldn't stay more the place that's not his. Even though it got familiar after all of the visits, Seokjin still found it uncomfortable to wake up beside his one (few) night stand so he always finds himself sneaking out before Yoongi wakes up.

What's happening in between them was a little bit complicated in Seokjin's mind; because it was more than one time fun, but less than actual relationship. They met up at the bar; Seokjin was looking for a hookup that can make him forget about his shitty day and Yoongi, he supposed, was also looking for a pretty boy to nuzzle. He went Yoongi's place that night. Then other night too. And another.

He really doesn't like to ponder about how things escalated because it sounds like a pure cliché romcom movie plot but they have become friends who have sex occasionally. And that's it, period.

He turns on his side, peering at Yoongi who's still dead to the world. Like this, Yoongi looked calm, soft even, far from his sharp gazes and unapproachable looks. It's the look only Seokjin is privileged to see – even though Seokjin never meant to have strings attached, he always try to memorize this look on his brain nevertheless.

Seokjin slinks out of Yoongi's grip, ignoring an urge of staying longer in warm embrace and gets up without making much noises.

He hisses softly as the soles of his feet touch cold hardwood floor, gathered his clothes he had eagerly shed in the prior night and headed for the bathroom; the walk of shame, to change, wash himself and look at least like a civilized human.

More than for his liking, everything smelled like Yoongi, his place, his pillows, even Seokjin's body reeked of this minty and citrus scent. He touches his lips, tender with kisses and bites of yesterday night, he trails down his fingers to his neck, smoothing out some faint bruises and marks left on his body.

Seokjin turns on the tap to take a sip of water in intent to wash away lingering taste of sleep and Yoongi from his tongue. He can still feel the weight of Yoongi's lips, his tongue, his fingers, his cock; full and heavy. Yoongi is hard to forget, he admits, probably because of his bodily needs for sex that's not maneuvered by his will. But Seokjin takes pride in his patience and self-control so that he didn't think much of anything as he slipped out of Yoongi's flat. No strings attached, no feelings pulled.

It was heavily raining outside but somehow Seokjin wanted to believe that he can stay dry.

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