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Trap

The next day, you rose with the sun, your eyes opening as the first rays of light hit your face. It was the baker's curse never to sleep in, your mom had said as she woke you every day at the crack of dawn, bugging you to help your dad at the bakery your family owned.

And curse you it did, as you had a very hard time staying in bed for too long, despite your undying love for it.

Knowing better than to just lie there stalling, you got up to get started on breakfast, knowing that the boys would surely be nursing horrible hangovers and would need all the help they could get. So that day, you made sure the coffee was twice as strong and that you had plenty of your mom's hangover recipes.

Once again, Yoongi was the first to show up. His already pale face had was even paler, with a slightly green hue to it. He walked into the kitchen, dragging his feet like a zombie and mumbled "Turn off the fucking sun".

"I would if I could" you offered sympathetically "But alas, all I can offer you is coffee."

He didn't answer, settling for making grabby hands in your direction. You put a huge, filled to the brim, cup of coffee in his hand and waited until you were sure he wouldn't drop it before removing your hands, which resulted in full three seconds of awkward hand touching.

"I made it extra strong today" you said as he gently blew the surface of the burning hot drink "and although I do think you should eat, I won't make you do it."

Yoongi had only had one single sip of the drink before he had to put the whole cup down to sigh in what seemed to be deep pleasure.

"Marry me." He said while hugging the cup as if he was holding the most precious thing in the world.

"What's in the job description?" you asked, pouring yourself some coffee as well.

"You make me coffee like this every day and I will give you my undying love and affection."

You tapped your finger against your cheek, looking up as if thinking about it "I don't know, Suga, I am very needy. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I will give you endless hand-holding privileges" as if proving his point, he offered you his left hand, the right one still holding his most prized possession: the coffee mug.

"You play dirty, Suga." Grumbling, you put your hands on his and couldn't hide the blushing of your cheeks when he smirked.

"I play to win, Salty." Intertwining your fingers, he turned back to his mug and you grabbed your phone, ignoring the stupidly fast beating of your heart.

This is how, minutes later, the other boys found you. Hand holding over the table, focused on your own activities (you thinking of ways to tell your mother that Namjoon was not the boy you ended up marrying; him, mentally writing love songs to his hot drink).

"What is going on here?" asked Jimin, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, too cheery and teasingly for someone who looked like he had been repeatedly run over by an ice cream truck.

"We got married." Yoongi deadpanned, his finger twitching but never letting go of yours.

The boys' reaction was instant: Jungkook, being the last one to enter the kitchen, had a coughing fit, choking on nothing as Taehyung worriedly patted his back in an attempt to help. Namjoon, ever the graceful, tripped over his own feet, going down hard and bringing Hoseok down with him. Jin, who annoyingly still looked pretty good for someone who had ended the night passed out under a table as his friends balanced several random objects on his forehead, screamed "WHAT?" making Yoongi wince and hold tighter to his cup.

"I go to sleep" Jin keeps going, despite Yoongi's annoyed expression "for a couple of hours and when I wake up my roommate, my friend, my so-called bro has stolen my future wife?!"