(AU)
He was looking to unwind. To take a step away from reality and look at it from different, less confusing angles. To move outside the frustration and into that grey area, at least. For a minute or two. Before he jumps back into the raging storm.
In short: life is stressful. And Yoongi wants to take a bubble bath.
Is that weird? As a man in his early thirties, is that weird? Strange? To fill the tub with hot water and lavender bubbles that smell heavenly? To light an assortment of candles that mix with the already floral infused air? To turn off the lights and play his "first kiss" playlist?
He doesn't really care if it's odd. He does it anyways.
The water is warm, Yoongi's chest more so. He feels a certain light fire lick through his viens and squeeze his heart, the release being soothing and gentle. Like taking a deep breath, filling his lungs to the compacity, and then a little more, holding, and letting out so very slowly.
Bubbles froth and foam like mountains and hills around Yoongi. He leans back against the edge of the tub. And because he's unwinding, he lets his imagination finally run wild and free. The claw foot tub sits on intricate golden tiles. There's tall windows, three-sixty, that look out into an ocean of pink iridescent skies and bubbly cream clouds. It's pleasant and peaceful. Quite and serene. Yoongi has never felt so tranquil in his life.
He wishes he could visit this sanctuary more often.
The water trembles as Yoongi shifts to submerge himself. He wets his hair, runs his fingers through the long blonde strands and opens his eyes to see them floating through the water like tendrils of golden thread around his torso. He's a king, enjoying his crystal palace in the sky.
When he breaks surface, he doesn't bother opening his eyes and disrupting the dream. Behind his eyelids lays his truest desires. This holographic mirage is his safe place. He wouldn't dare leave so soon. Not when it's this vivid.
The doors open with a gust of crisp air. Yoongi shivers but smiles at the prescense behind him.
"Your Majesty." The atmosphere tilts as the boy bows behind Yoongi. Yoongi hums low in his throat. "At your service."
"Come closer." Yoongi beckones with a wet, glistening hand. The boy rounds the tub and kneels, head down respectfully. His raven tresses fall like the final curtain over his face. Yoongi catches the subtle bump of his nose beneath his fringe. The pink light outside nestles into his hair, making I'm gleam as if there's a rosy halo above his head.
Yoongi checks. There is one. Because he imagined it there.
"Join me, would you?" Yoongi says it like it's not a question, but a suggestion. And the boy listens, of course. He doesn't look at Yoongi. One could argue that it's because you shall never look a king directly in the eyes but this is a dream so if Yoongi really wanted the boy to tilt his head up, then he would. But Yoongi likes this mystery. Likes not knowing who this boy is, yet. He's curious to see what real person his imagination substitutes for this angelic, fragile boy. Maybe he's a shadow at the very edge of Yoongi's boring life. Or maybe he's someone Yoongi knows quite well.
He loves the anticipation.
As the boy stands and begins pulling at his robes, Yoongi watches with lidded eyes. The boy sparkles like specks of diamond are embedded within the pores of his skin. His body is dainty and small in the important areas. Yoongi wants to touch and feel this dream but he waits. He has patience. He's a king, after all.
The boy carefully steps into the tub. He fits perfectly between Yoongi's spread legs. The hot water pricks his smooth skin and sends a pinkness crawling up his chest. Yoongi coos.
"Beautiful." He says. The boy's nimble fingers twiddle under the water, shy. "Sing for me?"
And his vocal chords are equally beautiful. They're airy and breathy and he sings like he's fallen in love. Like he's swimming in the rain. Like his voice alone could cure incurable illness and make sense out of the nonsense.
His hair lays silky over his shoulder. Yoongi leans forwards to twirl the black strands between his fingers. It's softer than anything Yoongi's ever felt before.
The boy sounds like that one line of poetry by Yoongi's favroite poet.
Snowflakes that sing by the wind of your ears.
Yoongi wants to caress the boy's cheek. His imagines a powered sugar like dust over his skin and suddenly it's snowing inside the room, swirling around them in convuluted shapes and bringing around white leaves. The temperature drops a smidge. The boy's nose grows red, voice saccharine.
Trees woven in branches and leftover wishes.
They're thrusted into a world of evergreen nature. Grapevines snake up the windows and scrawl messages of hope along the glass. Tress sway at the horizon under a sky so blue the ocean is envious.
Animals sneak into the nature setting. Yoongi's always loves the innocent and free mind of animals in their natural environments.
Deer with the eyes of a thousand miles.
Squirrels that claims the hearts carved in the trees.
Yoongi inhales.
"Look at me, please."
The boy looks up.
Yoongi doesn't know him. Has never seen this man before. He's certain about it, too, because if he had seen this man in his life he would've known. He could never forget a face so ethereal. Certain that he couldn't ever forget the magic that lies in the stars of his eyes. The cherry blossom blush to his cheeks. The doll-like look of his lips.
Yoongi has been so stressed he hasn't had much time to indulge in his wishes. So is it really his fault when a black shadow blocks the windows and obcures the art outside? Is it his fault that the candle light expands and paints the room in an orange glow? Backlights the boy like he's coming straight out of history and has incredible tales of life behind him?
Yoongi really needs to relax more often because this... this is overwhelming. This boy who makes Yoongi's skin sting as if the water is boiling. The fact that it goes from one to a hundered real quick and Yoongi's feels a particular weight in his lap, surprised when he looks down to see the boy's thighs straddling him.
Yoongi gives in because he wants to. He imagines what it would be like if he were actually in this tangle of bliss. If this pretty boy was actually touching him and moaning out Yoongi's name with that candied tongue of his. He so desperately wants the swivel of his hips to be real. The way he gyrates himself enthusiastically against Yoongi and makes him see stars. It's the way he can grip the boy's long hair in his fists and pull gently to expose the column of his unblemished throat. It's the way he can kiss the corner of his mouth and swallow his sounds, feel them in his gut like a swarm of butterflies.
The release is amazing but with the come down comes the break. The illusion shatters and Yoongi's bath water is cold. He sighs, does his best washing the sticky mess off his hand, and then gets out and pulls the drain.
He dresses in his last pair of sweats. Laundry is due, but he can't pull around enough money for it at the moment.
However, Yoongi has enough money for a coffee the next day before work. Balance is key, and Yoongi thinks staying caffeinated is more important than laundry. Obviously.
The cafe is small and smells like-- get this-- coffee beans. This cafe opened a couple weeks ago and already has a good deal of customers. Yoongi wonders if the coffee really is that good as he heads up to the register. The cashier is busy handing someone down the counter their drink, so while waiting, Yoongi scans the menu above his head. Macchiato? Or maybe a mocha?
He settles for an iced americano and pulls out his wallet. When the cashier comes back, Yoongi notes his navy blue ball cap and black mask. His nose pokes out the top. He's cute-
Holy fuck??
"Hello!" He chrips. "What can I get for you?"
Yoongi blinks dumbly at him. There's no way this Jeongguk guy-- Yoongi looked at his nametag-- is the boy from his very wet dream yesterday.
"Sir?"
"Uhh."
"You're holding up the line." Someone bitterly hisses behind Yoongi. Yoongi clears his throat and with a voice that trembles far too much for ordering coffee this early, he asks for his drink. Jeongguk smiles and types it into the system.
Yoongi hands him the respected amount of cash at the end of the counter, and after Jeongguk hands him his drink, Yoongi books it.
No way in hell is he about to stay there any longer. It's too awkward and Yoongi's life is already a mess. The last thing he needs is this.
Fuck.
But why is he so adorable??
He decides to let it go. If fate wanted their paths to mingle, Yoongi is sure they would have by now. This is just a coincidence. Nothing important.
Yoongi goes to work with the idea of what if lingering at the edges of his mind but by the time the day is over, he forget completely. Jeongguk is just a stranger. He means nothing to Yoongi and he never will.