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Chapter Text

The thunderous sound of the SUV starting up split the pre-dawn quiet as effectively as an explosion.

Yoongi startled awake and sat bolt upright in his sleeping bag, torn from exhausted sleep with a suddenness that made his heart pound and his stomach churn. For one long, disorientating moment he couldn’t remember where the fuck he was, but then his bleary eyes cleared enough for him to focus on the pitched roof of the tent above him. The reality of his situation rushed back, with a vividness that Yoongi could have really done without, all things considered.

Summer holidays. Camping. Early hours of the morning.

Yoongi squinted at his watch in the gloom, struggling to make out the position of the hands. It looked like… 4.57am. Which meant that Yoongi had had a grand total of four hours and twenty nine minutes sleep.

For fuck’s sake.

He flopped back onto his pillow with an audible thump, and then cringed, looking fearfully across the tent at the indistinct mass that was his six year old son, praying that he was still asleep.

It had taken him two and a half hours of coaxing, threatening and reading endless stories to get Juwon to sleep last night. Yoongi had been just about to drift off himself at the perfectly respectable hour of 11pm, when the young couple in the caravan on the other side of them had started having sex. They weren’t loud, exactly; in fact Yoongi would judge that they were probably making an effort to be quiet out of courtesy to the other campers around them. They just weren’t very good at being quiet, and it was perfectly obvious to Yoongi what they were up to. It had left him with a painful boner (he wasn’t exactly into voyeurism - or whatever the listening equivalent was called - but they sounded like they were really into it, and it had been… well, let’s just say it had been a while for Yoongi. His reaction was entirely understandable) and an even worse dilemma as to whether he risked jerking off with his kid sleeping not three feet away, or just waited endlessly for it to die down.

He had opted to wait. It hadn’t improved his mood.

And then Juwon had woken up again some time after midnight needing to pee, and spent the next hour asking Yoongi a series of apparently urgent questions, which to Yoongi’s mind could easily have waited until the morning (No, he didn’t know if birds could sleep and fly at the same time. No, he didn’t know how far it was to get to Australia, they could look it up in the morning. Yes, he would love to see the rock Juwon had found. Again. In The MORNING.)

It had been a shit of a night.

Although to be fair, it was no worse than the first two nights of their camping holiday.
And so far, Juwon was showing no sign that the car starting up had woken him. Yoongi watched his son carefully, but there was no movement under the mounded sleeping bag. He breathed a small sigh of relief, and burrowed back down into his own bedding, letting his lids droop shut.

A door slammed loudly on the still-running car, only about three feet away from Yoongi’s head and separated by a single thin sheet of canvas. Yoongi’s eyes shot open again.

“Appa?” Juwon sat up, rubbing his face.

“Shit,” Yoongi muttered under his breath. He lay still, hoping that if his son thought he wasn’t awake he would go back to sleep himself.

A second door slammed.

“Appa?” Juwon said more loudly. “What’s that noise? Appa?”

With a sigh of defeat, Yoongi rolled towards him. “It’s just the people in the campsite next to us going somewhere in their car. They’ll be gone in a minute and then it’ll be quiet again.”

“Why do they have to go so early?” Juwon asked fretfully, a tiny hint of whine creeping into his voice. “It’s not even light yet and I’m tired.”

“I know, bub.” Yoongi had much the same question. “I think they must go fishing.”

“Fishing is stupid,” Juwon grumbled, and Yoongi had to agree with that, too. “Can I get in with you? My feet are cold.”

Yoongi eyed his sleeping bag and his narrow mattress doubtfully. “I’m not sure we’ll both fit, kiddo…” but Juwon was already out of his bed and crawling across the floor towards him.

“Just unzip it all the way,” the boy ordered. “It’ll be big enough.”

Prepared to do whatever it took at that moment to get his son back to sleep, Yoongi did as instructed. Cold air crept unpleasantly in at the sides, and by the time Juwon had wriggled under and made himself comfortable against his side, Yoongi was hanging half off the edge of his sleeping mat, with a set of frigid toes jammed against his knees.

“Your feet are like iceblocks,” he complained. “Where are your socks?” Yoongi was sure the kid had socks on when he went to bed.

“Dunno,” Juwon said, his voice muffled in Yoongi’s shoulder. “They disappeared.”

His socks had a way of doing that. Yoongi had never figured out where they went. He was forced to conclude that somewhere in the universe there was a pocket in the space-time continuum that was entirely full of small boys’ socks. He could probably make a small fortune if he ever found it.

After idling for several more minutes, the car finally pulled out, and Yoongi allowed himself to relax slightly in the subsequent blissful silence. He wrapped an arm around Juwon and shifted his skinny body a little closer, mostly to move the pointy small elbow that was digging painfully into his ribs. Yoongi wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was still mostly dark, and if he just didn’t move too much there was still a chance of getting another hour of sleep before the day started properly. Maybe even two hours.

“Appa? I need to pee.”

Yoongi cursed inwardly, and tried not to let the irritation bleed into his voice as he asked, “Really? How bad do you need to go? It’s only, like, another hour until morning. Can you hold it?”

“You want me to piss in your sleeping bag?” Juwon asked with sleepy indignation.

No. No, Yoongi did not want that. He sighed, and heaved himself up to sitting, patting around blindly for his glasses. “Alright, bub. Where are your shoes?”

By the time they got back from the ablutions block Yoongi was shivering and wide awake. Juwon, at least, was still drowsy; he tumbled back into his own bed and promptly fell asleep, snoring lightly. Yoongi got into his sleeping bag and resolutely closed his eyes, willing himself back into slumber, but it was no good. His brain had declared the day already started, and was not going to be convinced otherwise. By 6am soft light was beginning to filter through the canvas, and Yoongi gave up the night as a lost cause. He got cautiously out of bed, pulled his fleece jacket on over his flannel pyjamas, and crept as quietly as he could out of the tent.

A light mist was hanging over the lake, the water a calm, reflective silver in the softness of pre-dawn. Yoongi padded down the grassy bank in front of his campsite to the narrow strip of beach at the edge of the lake, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket. The air was cool on his face, and a solitary bird flew overhead, its call echoing across the water.

On impulse, Yoongi stripped his shoes and socks off, and stepped forward to stand ankle deep in the water.

He wasn’t a morning person, as a rule, but he had to admit that this wasn’t bad. A silver lining to the shitty night they’d just had. Maybe he should think about setting his alarm a bit earlier, even on the weeks Juwon was with his mother. Get outside a bit more. All that stuff.

Ten minutes later his feet were frozen and a dull headache was pressing behind his eyes.

Mornings were definitely overrated.

He had to pull his socks on over wet feet because he had no way of drying them, damp and still sticky with sand. Yoongi sank into a folding chair outside the tent. He wanted coffee more than he wanted his next breath, but the stove and all the cooking stuff were neatly stowed in their tub, locked away in the back of the car. His keys were in the tent, right where he had left them, next to his pillow with his phone and his book. He contemplated trying to sneak in to get them, but if Juwon woke up again at this time of the day that would be it, he’d be up.

If Yoongi wasn’t going to get his quiet cup of coffee either way, he’d rather the kid got some extra shut eye. The day would go much better all around.

With a sigh, he hunkered down in the chair to wait.

*****

Jungkook, the young guy who ran the coffee van, took one look at Yoongi and winced. “Double shot flat white for you this morning, I reckon, hyung. Rough night?”

Was it the giant bags under his eyes that gave it away, Yoongi wondered? He grimaced. “You might say that. Flat white sounds great, thanks.”

Yoongi had been pleasantly surprised to see the van parked there on their first morning, occupying a perfect location in the campground between the kids playground and the lake shore. He’d been even more surprised to find that the coffee was extremely good, and had been such a frequent customer in the last few days that he and the proprietor had quickly dropped formalities. The fact that said proprietor of the coffee van was a gorgeous boy with huge eyes and a sleeve of tattoos was perhaps a third excellent surprise, but Yoongi was there on a family holiday with his kid, and Jungkook had to be a solid ten years younger than him so Yoongi was not going to pay any attention to that. Much.

“So, what kept you awake last night?” Jungkook enquired conversationally, sliding Yoongi’s coffee across the counter to him.

Yoongi took his first sip, and could almost have cried with relief. “Just Juwonnie. He doesn’t sleep well even when we’re at home, but here…” He scowled down into his coffee cup, barely noticing the perfect heart shape in the foam. “And then some douchebag in the site next to us got up before 5am for the third morning in a row and woke us up.”

Jungkook whistled. “Really? Wow, that’s really rough.” He dropped a chocolate croissant onto a small plate, and placed it in front of Yoongi. “Here, you’d better get some sugar into you as well.”

“Oh, no,” Yoongi protested. “I already ate breakfast.”

“On the house,” Jungkook insisted. “You need it.”

Yoongi looked doubtfully around behind him. The campground was half full at best; most tourists to the area tended to stay in town, a few kilometers down the road at the seaside, instead of at this quiet, out of the way spot where the river slowed and broadened into a small lake before narrowing again to make the final push towards the ocean. Yoongi didn’t remember ever seeing another customer at the coffee van. “Are you sure? It looks… well, it’s kinda quiet this morning. I don’t want to eat your profits.”

Jungkook laughed, and his nose scrunch activated Yoongi’s cuteness aggression in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable before he was at his ideal level of caffeination. “You worried about my business, hyung?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I would have thought you’d get more customers setting up in town.”

“I like it here,” Jungkook said. He gestured at the play equipment, where Juwon was currently hanging from the monkey bars by his knees, untucked t-shirt around his ears and pale tummy on full display. “I like watching the kids play. I like the quiet. And I like the view.”

His eyes suddenly widened and he said urgently to Yoongi, “Speaking of views. Quick, what time is it?”

Yoongi glanced at his watch. “Twenty past nine.”

“Shit,” Jungkook swore. “Not much time. Could you help me out?” He pointed at the garden chairs scattered across the lawn in front of the van with an eclectic collection of coffee tables. “Can you grab three chairs and line them up over there facing the lake? With a table please?” His head tilted to the side and he eyed Yoongi consideringly. “Actually, make it four chairs. Hyung, you are in for a treat.”

“What?” Yoongi was mystified but Jungkook was busying himself at the coffee machine, so he did as he was instructed, keeping half a watch on Juwon out of the corner of his eye. When he returned to the counter to fetch his almost empty coffee, Jungkook whisked the cup away and put a fresh full one in its place.

“You’re going to need it for this,” he promised, grinning in a way that made his eyes dance. “Take your pastry and sit down.”

Still at a loss, Yoongi settled himself into a deck chair. Jungkook appeared a moment later, effortlessly balancing three coffees and a plate with more pastries which he deposited on the small table near Yoongi’s knee. “Almost time,” he announced, settling in next to Yoongi and pulling out his phone. “I’ll just text Jimin, I’m surprised they’re not here yet.”

Yoongi caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see an older couple approaching the van. He tapped Jungkook on the shoulder. “I think you have customers.”

“Shit,” Jungkook swore. “Not now! Hang on, be right back.”

He scooted swiftly back into the van, and smiling sweetly at the couple, placed a ‘Back in 10 minutes’ sign up on the counter. Yoongi looked at him blankly as Jungkook rushed straight back to the row of chairs and dropped in beside him again.

“But -”

“This is no time for customers, hyung,” Jungkook said. “It’s Tuesday, you know.” He twisted impatiently in his seat, peering back towards the campsite. His expression cleared in relief as he saw two figures jogging quickly towards them. “It’s alright, they’re coming.”

Both young men were breathing heavily as they dropped into chairs on the other side of Yoongi. “Did we miss anything?” The question was asked by the smaller of the two, a slim blonde with an angelic face and mischievous eyes.

“Not yet,” Jungkook said reassuringly. He handed the blonde a long black that looked dark as ink, and then a hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows and whipped cream to the other man, a slightly taller guy with dark fluffy hair and a wide boxy grin. “Here, I made these for you. Hyung, have you met Jimin and Tae?”

“Of course he has,” Taehyung said brightly. “Yoongi and Juwon are our neighbours. We’re practically best friends.”

Yoongi wouldn’t go quite that far.

He and Juwon had met the couple on the first day of their holiday, when they had pulled into the campground late in the afternoon, both a little frazzled from the long drive. The pair of them had been lounging in striped, wooden framed deckchairs outside their mint-green vintage caravan, gin and tonic in hand, looking like they belonged on the cover of some retro fashion magazine with their linen pants, unbuttoned shirts and gorgeous faces.

Probably snobby twats, Yoongi had decided on the spot, feeling about a million years old in his baggy sweatpants and faded t-shirt.

They had proved to be anything but. Leaping out of his chair with an expression of genuine delight, Taheyung had instantly taken charge of Juwon, whisking him away to show him where the bathroom was and then to throw rocks into the lake. Jimin had made an exhausted Yoongi a cup of tea - in a real teapot - and helped him pitch the tent and blow up the air mattresses. Yoongi had been more than a little dazzled and pathetically grateful.

They were nice boys, he thought. A little odd, certainly; he couldn’t quite figure out why they were here in this quiet campground rather than somewhere that beautiful young things tended to holiday. He doubted this place would be the type to go viral on TikTok. But they were polite and pretty, and had the patience of saints with Juwon, who was utterly besotted with both of them. And had Yoongi mentioned pretty?

Not that he was looking.

Ok, maybe he was looking. Just every now and then.

There was no harm in that, after all.

Yoongi noted that Jimin's usually plump limps appeared downright swollen this morning, and Taehyung was sporting several obvious bruises on his neck. He felt his face turning red at the memory of the sounds coming from their caravan during the night, and dropped his eyes in confusion.

Probably best just not to look at all, really.

“I’m so glad you’re here for this,” Jimin confided, leaning in close to pat Yoongi on the thigh.

“I still don’t know what this is,” Yoongi said plaintively.

“This,” Taehyung said, “is going to be a feast for your eyes. We won’t spoil it. Just sit back and enjoy.” He crammed half a pistachio croissant into his mouth in one go, and chewed with a blissful expression.

Yoongi remained mystified - although considerably more alert once he got the second coffee in - for a further ten minutes as he half listened to the others chatting across him, kept an eye on Juwon, and idly scrolled through the morning’s news on his phone. He became aware that something was happening when a hush fell over his companions, and Jungkook’s fingers landed on Yoongi’s wrist.

“Here he comes,” he breathed reverently.

Yoongi followed his gaze to their left, where a solitary figure pushing a lawn mower was emerging through the gate in the fence surrounding the small manager’s residence. “Who’s that?” he asked, but he didn’t get an answer. When he glanced from side to side, each of the three was transfixed.

Almost not breathing, he judged.

The man pushed his lawn mower a metre or two from the fence, and bent over to adjust something on the base of the machine. The movement pulled his work shorts high up on the backs of his muscular thighs, and Jungkook gasped, his nails digging painfully into Yoongi’s skin.

“Nice,” Taehyung murmured.

The man looked up, catching sight of the small crowd in front of the coffee van. Yoongi shrank instinctively down in his chair, but he only waved jauntily, and called out, “Good morning!”

“Good morning Namjoon-hyung!” the other three chorused, waving in unison.

Dimples popped and slanted eyes creased with a wide smile, making an already handsome face boyishly appealing. The man - Namjoon, apparently - fitted ear muffs over the top of his baseball cap, and his shoulders bunched as he pulled the cord to start the mower.

Three identical sighs sounded around Yoongi as Namjoon gave one last wave and set off behind the mower, calves flexing and muscles in his forearms bunching as went.

Yoongi was beginning to understand. “Is this seriously what all the build up was for?” he asked, trying to inject a trace of incredulity into his voice and not really succeeding. “To watch some dude mow the lawn?”

“Some dude?” Jungkook sounded deeply offended. “Hyung. Please. His legs.”

They were very nice legs, Yoongi could appreciate that, with a very fine ass nicely shown off by somewhat clinging work shorts, cut short enough to reveal a long, long length of bare skin above lace-up timberlands. In fact, Yoongi had always been a sucker for a cute man in big boots, but he was hardly going to admit that to these three.

“But who is he?” he asked again.

“That’s my husband,” a cheerful voice said, and Yoongi twisted in his chair to gape at the slim man now standing behind them. He was smiling, Yoongi was relieved to see, the corners of his mouth pulled up into a delighted heart shape. “Hello again Yoongi-ssi, we met a few days ago when you arrived. I’m Hoseok.”

“I remember.” Yoongi was hardly going to forget the pretty, friendly campground manager. He’d made quite an impression on Yoongi at check in, one that he was quite certain had not been reciprocated, given that Yoongi had been tired, a little sweaty and just about at his wit’s end with Juwon, who had been hyped up by fours hours confined to the car and approximately half his bodyweight in gummy sweets. Not that he really needed to worry about impressions, it would seem, given that the guy was most definitely taken.

And now Yoongi had just been sprung ogling Hoseok’s husband. Great.

“Um, I was just, you know…” he gestured lamely at his now empty coffee cup. “Having a coffee.”

Hoseok laughed merrily. “Oh, it’s alright Yoongi-ssi. I know what these brats are up to. They sit out here every Tuesday and Friday without fail to drool over Namjoonie’s legs while he mows. And I can see that they’ve sucked you into their horny schemes. I hold them entirely responsible.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook protested. “You make it sound like we’re objectifying him.”

“Oh sweetie,” Hoseok said comfortingly, patting Jungkook on the shoulder. “I know you’re in love with his brain, not just his body. These two, on the other hand -” he gestured at Jimin and Taehyung and shook his head sadly.

“100% objectification,” Jimin agreed with a cheeky grin. “Speaking of which, hyung, do you think the weather is warm enough today?”

“Very likely,” Hoseok agreed. “In fact… there you go, boys.”

He pointed at his husband, who had brought the mower to a halt for long enough to grasp the neck of his t-shirt and pull the whole thing off over his head. His chest was impressively toned, and also tanned enough that Yoongi could tell shirtless mowing was not an infrequent occurrence. Namjoon used the t-shirt to wipe the sheen of sweat off the strong column of his neck before he tossed it aside and continued on. Jimin and Taehyung sighed in unison, and Jungkook actually whimpered.

Hoseok snorted, shaking his head in amusement.

“Are you seriously ok with this?” Yoongi blurted.

Hoseok smiled beatifically. “Well, here’s the thing, Yoongi-ssi. These kids can look all they want, but at the end of the day I’m the one who gets to fuck him.”

“Come on, hyung, not fair!” Jungkook protested, looking deeply wounded.

“Ah, chin up, Jungkook-ah. I know Namjoonie says he’s a committed monogamist but keep working on him, he’s really very persuadable, the silly love.” Hoseok gave Yoongi a friendly wave. “Don’t let these three bamboozle you too much, Yoongi-ssi. Have a great day, all of you.”

He turned to walk away, but Jungkook called eagerly after him. “Wait, hyung, hang on a second!”

Hoseok paused and looked back, eyebrows raised.

“Yoongi-hyung needs to make a noise complaint,” Jungkook announced.

“Oh?” Hoseok came straight back, his face settling immediately into a concerned, professional expression. “Is everything ok, Yoongi-ssi?”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi hastened to say. “Honestly, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not, hyung,” Jungkook insisted. “Yoongi-hyung was so tired this morning I had to make him two double flat whites just to turn him back into a human again. Juwon isn’t a good sleeper, he says, and the people in the site next to them keep leaving in their car at 5am so hyung isn’t getting any sleep.”

Yoongi was practically squirming with mortified awkwardness but Hoseok was looking at him sympathetically. “Oh, that does sound rough. Now, who is next to you? I know it won’t be these two vagabonds here at that hour, they never get up early…” The manager squinted thoughtfully as though he was picturing a map of the campground in his head. “Oh, that’s right. You have Seokjin and his little boy on the other side of you. I wonder what those two are up to at that time of day?”

“Ah, fishing, I think,” Yoongi said faintly. “But it’s fine, really, Hoseok-ssi.”

“Fishing. Hmmm. I see.” Hoseok examined him closely for a moment, and then a slow, one sided grin spread across his face. “Have you met Kim Seokjin, Yoongi-ssi?”

Yoongi shook his head and Hoseok’s smile widened even further. “Try having a chat with him about it,” he suggested. “Talk it over. I’m sure he’ll be very reasonable about it. Do you think you could do that, Yoongi-ssi?”

Yoongi swallowed. There was probably nothing he would like to do less in the world, but Hoseok was one of those people that he knew instinctively he would try very hard to please, and would be very sad to disappoint. “Umm. Well. Ok. I can try.”

“Good man.” Hoseok gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Let me know how you get on.”

Chapter Text

Yoongi could do this.

Yoongi would do this.

Yoongi was an adult who could absolutely step across to the next campsite and politely request that his neighbours make a little less noise at 5am. Not no noise, he’s not unreasonable. Just not making it sound like Yoongi’s skull was about to be crushed by the tyres of the guy’s fancy black SUV, ideally.

Yoongi hadn’t managed to get up the nerve to follow through on Hoseok’s suggestion the day before. He’d intended to. Had gone to do it, in fact, but each time he talked himself into it and headed in that direction, he’d found himself chickening out, and instead wandering casually past the next campsite as if he’d always intended to head towards the ablutions block. By the time this had happened three times in an hour he’d given it up, concerned that the tall, dark haired man he’d glimpsed out of the corner of his eye - but not dared to look directly at - would think that he had a bad case of the runs.

Or a drug problem.

Or maybe even both.

And besides, he’d reasoned, how much fishing could one family really want to do? It was very likely that tomorrow they would give it up and sleep until a respectable hour, like normal non-fishing-obsessed citizens.

They didn’t.

And after another 4.50am wake up call Yoongi was officially a member of the waking dead. Jimin had gone so far as to offer Yoongi his pot of special eye cream just that morning. “Not because you don’t look great, hyung,” he’d said warmly. “You have beautiful skin for your age. But it does really help with the dark circles.”

Enough was enough, really.

Yoongi could definitely do this. Juwon was currently deep in a Uno tournament with Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung in the latter couple’s caravan, so Yoongi didn’t even have to worry about what the kid was up to. He could focus. Lock in.

No time like the present.

He took a deep breath, straightened his shirt, fluffed up his hair, and stomped decisively around his tent, silently rehearsing his painstakingly prepared speech.

Their neighbours had a fancy camper trailer, one of those kinds where the roof winds up and the beds pull out the end. Yoongi had looked enviously at it many times over the last few days; it appeared to be brand spanking new, with rugged off-road tyres, solar panels on the roof, and a satellite internet aerial propped up on the drawbar. It looked incredibly comfortable, and at the same time fit for any kind of adventure.

It must have cost an absolute mint.

Its owner was sitting outside under the attached awning, feet propped up on the reclining leg-rest of the most elaborate camping chair Yoongi had ever seen, a can of beer handily placed in the insulated drink holder in the armrest. He looked like he was asleep.

Yoongi stumbled to a halt, silently cursing his bad timing. He was about to turn and tiptoe away again when the man opened his eyes and looked directly at Yoongi.

Every intelligible thought fled from Yoongi’s brain.

No person had any kind of right to be that good looking. It should absolutely, one hundred percent be illegal. Punishable by incarceration. For the safety of the population.

Yoongi had no idea what was going on in this campground. He’d never seen so many ridiculously attractive men in one place in his life. And this guy… the guy was the worst out of all of them so far.

Yoongi realised he was staring when the man cocked one eyebrow and smirked. “Well, hello there,” he said.

Yoongi shut his mouth and hoped to god he wasn’t drooling.

The man pulled a lever to drop the footrest of his chair, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hair flopped onto his forehead, and Yoongi had to swallow hard. “So,” the man drawled. He paused for a long moment, his eyes running over Yoongi from the top of his head down to the ends of his toes poking out of his sandals. “Beer?”

“Sorry?” Yoongi said blankly.

“Would you like a beer?” the man repeated patiently, lifting his own can in enquiry. He waved in the direction of Yoongi’s tent. “We’re neighbours, aren’t we? And it feels like beer o’clock to me. So. Want one?”

“Oh.” This was not going the way Yoongi had practiced in his head, or even in any of the ways that Taehyung had insisted on roleplaying with him (“Just to make sure you’re prepared, hyung.”) “Um, no, thank you. That’s not why I came over here.”

“No?”

The man stood in one fluid movement, and Yoongi saw that he was taller than him by several inches. He swallowed hard again. “No. I, ah… I came to talk to you about something. I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi. My son, Juwon and I, we’re camping next to you.”

The man’s smile widened, and he held out a hand. “Lovely to meet you, Yoongi-ssi. Kim Seokjin, at your service.”

Yoongi found himself shaking hands and blushing furiously at the same time.

“So, what can I help you with, Yoongi-ssi? Seeing as this is, regrettably, not a social call.”

“Oh, well.” Yoongi took a calming breath and two unobtrusive steps back, hoping the safety of a little more distance might help clear the dazed feeling from his brain. “I just wanted to ask you about your, um, early morning trips.”

“Our fishing trips?” Seokjin’s entire face lit up with enthusiasm, and the effect was devastating. Yoongi took another step back. “Are you a fellow fisherman, Yoongi-ssi?”

“Me? Oh, no.” Yoongi scrabbled desperately for his rehearsed words. “No, it’s not the fishing I want to talk about. It’s more the time that you leave. Every morning. And the.. The, uh, noise.”

“Oh?” Seokjin’s face was open and friendly, but Yoongi’s heart was still trying to thump it’s way through his ribcage with every beat.

He’d never been good at conflict. Or even speaking up for himself. But this was as much for Juwon’s sake as for his own sanity, he reminded himself.

“It’s just, my son, Juwon, he’s only six, and he’s not a great sleeper, and this is his first ever camping trip. Nights are… the thing is, they’re not going that well.”

“Not getting much sleep?” Seokjin’s face was full of sympathy. “That’s the worst. I’m sorry to hear it, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi. It takes him hours to fall asleep,” Yoongi continued doggedly, resolutely not making eye contact or even looking at the other man’s stupidly gorgeous face, “and he usually wakes at least once during the night. And so then when your car starts up at 5am -”

“It wakes you both up again,” Seokjin finished for him.

Yoongi felt a dizzying rush of relief and gratitude. Seokjin got it. He understood, and he was apparently a nice guy. Everything was going to be ok, and he was finally going to get a decent night’s sleep tonight.

“Exactly,” he said eagerly. “So I was wondering if maybe you could, like, park your car a bit further away or something. Just so that it’s not quite so noisy when you leave.” He laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “That canvas isn’t much of a sound barrier, you know.”

Seokjin hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, I think I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you -” He broke off, and with a curious little tilt of his head, dropped to his haunches, looking past Yoongi. “Well, hello there. You must be Juwon, I think. Your appa and I were just talking about you.”

Yoongi turned to see his son hovering uncertainly a few feet behind him. He held his hand out and drew the boy forward. “Say hi to Seokjin-ssi, Juwon-ah.”

Juwon’s eyes were wide, but he bobbed a polite bow. “Hello.”

“So, Juwon-goon,” Seokjin said, his mouth curling up at the corners into a soft smile. “Your appa tells me that you wake up every morning when we go fishing, is that right?”

Juwon nodded shyly, his hand creeping into Yoongi’s as he pressed close up to his side.

“Well then,” Seokjin said brightly. “I had a great idea just now. Seeing as you’re awake anyway, why don’t you and Appa come fishing with us?”

“What?” Yoongi jerked in surprise, and instinctively opened his mouth to decline, but Juwon was squeezing his hand and looking from Yoongi to Seokjin and back again, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Appa,” he breathed. “Can we?”

“Juwon-ah, I don’t think -” Yoongi began but Seokjin cut cheerfully over the top of him.

“Of course you can! My Dongwoo is nearly the same age as you, he’s seven, and he would love to have a friend come fishing with us, I reckon. He’s just inside, do you want to meet him?” Seokjin held his hand out expectantly.

Juwon looked up at Yoongi hopefully, and at Yoongi’s small nod, took Seokjin’s proffered hand and followed him towards the door of the camper.

Yoongi watched them go, feeling a little like he’d just been run over by a bulldozer. He had no idea what had just happened, other than the fact that apparently he was going fishing at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning with the most attractive man on the face of the earth.

Camping holidays were weird as fuck.

With his foot on the bottom step of the camper, Seokjin paused and looked back over his shoulder at Yoongi. “How about that beer then?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Sure,” he said helplessly. “Why not.”

Chapter Text

The alarm went off at 4.45am and Yoongi cursed every decision he had ever made that had led him to this precise point in his life.

He slapped at his phone to silence it, and then lay very still, hoping that by some minor miracle Juwon had not been awakened, and that Yoongi could go back to sleep and pretend that this whole fishing idea had been some kind of half imagined fever dream.

No such luck.

Juwon bounced out of his sleeping bag and landed on top of Yoongi with a thud that forced the breath to rush out of his lungs and his spine to make painful contact with the hard ground through his thin air mattress. He really needed to invest in some better mattresses, he decided, if this camping thing was going to be a regular occurrence.

Although the way this week was going, that hardly seemed likely.

Juwon was regrettably wide-awake, his eyes wide and shining brightly in the dawn half-light. “Appa,” he whispered. “C’mon, get up, it’s fishing day!”

“Do you really want to go fishing?” Yoongi grumbled, pulling the kid in for a hug and turning his head to get a good breath of his soft, clean smell, before he covered it in all the filth of a small boy’s day. “It was only like, the day before yesterday, you said to me that fishing is stupid.”

“No I didn’t,” Juwon denied stoutly.

“You did,” Yoongi countered. “Right here in this sleeping bag, at 5am, two mornings ago. I remember it distinctly.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Juwon declared. “And besides, fishing is only stupid when other people go without us. C’mon, appa. Get up, we’ll be late.”’

Yoongi reluctantly got up and fumbled to dress in the dim lighting, hissing at Juwon to keep his voice down as the boy’s excited chatter continued non-stop. “You wake up Jimin and Taehyung,” he warmed. “And they won't want to play Uno with you if they’re too tired.”

As it was, Yoongi needn’t have worried; he lurched out through the tent opening and into the crisp morning air, and came face to face with the young couple exiting their caravan, both stylishly dressed in pristine outdoor gear and looking as fresh as if they’d had ten hours sleep and already done a morning yoga workout. Yoongi glanced down at his own lightly stained sweatpants and old flannel shirt and groaned internally.

Juwon squeaked in delight and bounded across to them, flinging himself into Taehyung’s arms. The dark haired man laughed and caught him up, swinging the boy around in a circle before propping him up on his hip. Jimin wrapped them both in a giant bear-hug.

“You’re up early,” Yoongi observed.

“Are you coming fishing with us?” Juwon asked excitedly.

“We are,” Taehyung confirmed, using his free hand to ruffle Juwon’s hair. “As if I’d let my favourite six year old in the world go fishing without me. I would miss you too much.”

“As if either of us would pass up the opportunity to hang out with the two hottest DILFs in the campground,” Jimin murmured, close to Taehyung’s ear.

Yoongi flushed scarlet. He pretended that he hadn’t heard, though Jimin’s side-eyed smirk told him he’d been very much meant to. “I didn’t know you two were on fishing terms with Seokjin-ssi,” Yoongi said instead.

“We weren’t,” Taehyung said cheerfully. “But then I ran into him at the urinal last night and we got chatting. Nothing like making someone’s acquaintance when you’ve both got your bare dick in your hand to break down barriers quickly.”

“Taehyung-ah,” Jimin scolded, putting his hands over Juwon’s ears.

Taehyung opened his mouth, but whether it was to apologise or protest remained unknown as Dongwoo appeared out of nowhere like the small boy equivalent of a minor hurricane, tugging at the hem of Jumon’s raincoat. “Juwon-ah! It’s time to go! C’mon, come in my car!”

Seokjin materialised a moment later. “Morning everyone! All ready to go? Into the car then, I’ll drive.” He herded them all towards his large four wheel drive, and opened the front passenger door. He smiled at Yoongi, and Yoongi’s feet chose that exact moment to trip over themselves.

The two incidents were possibly not unrelated.

“Whoops!” Seokjin caught Yoongi expertly by the upper arm, steadying him effortlessly. “Here you go, Yoongi-ssi, you hop in the front with me. We’ll let all those kids squeeze into the back together.”

The seats were leather, and heated, and smelled nothing like fish. “So where are we going, exactly, Seokjin-ssi?” Yoongi asked as the other man eased the big vehicle expertly along the narrow roadways of the campground, headed for the front gate.

“To our boat!” Dongwoo exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on the back seat.

“Boat?” Yoongi hadn’t heard anything about a boat being involved. He’d assumed they were going to sit on a pier or maybe the riverbank, and drop their lines in from the relative safety of dry land.

“Our boat,” Seokjin confirmed, indicating as he turned smoothly onto the empty road towards the nearby village. “We keep it in the little marina here in town, come down as often as we can during the summers. You know the lake the campground is on is a diversion off the river, right? And the river itself runs into the ocean just past the town?”

Yoongi did know that.

“Well, we can motor out through the estuary,” Seokjin continued. “I know this great little bay just up the coast, nice and sheltered, perfect spot for fishing with kids.” He glanced sideways at Yoongi, and reached across to pat him reassuringly on the knee. “It’s a very safe boat, Yoongi-ssi. And I’m an excellent captain. Never fear, we’ll get you home again safe and dry.”

*****

It was possible that Yoongi had a thing for competence. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to call it a kink, but it was definitely a thing.

Or maybe it was just that he was rapidly developing a thing for Kim Seokjin.

Realistically, the two were one and the same, because Seokjin was repeatedly proving himself to be extremely competent indeed, at all sorts of thing, and that in turn was proving to be very dangerous to Yoongi’s peace of mind.

It might have been the way he efficiently ushered them across the short gangplank and onto his surprisingly big white and blue boat, strapped the kids into lifejackets, and then sat them all down for a safety briefing so stern that even Taehyung listened attentively. It was certainly exacerbated by the way Seokjin cast off the lines with no fuss or fanfare, and expertly maneuvered the boat out of the small marina and into the wide river estuary. He handled his vessel with calm expertise, his slightly crooked fingers resting lightly on the wheel and his feet planted wide apart on the gently rolling deck. His face was serene as he gazed out across the water ahead of them, and the light breeze lifted the chestnut coloured hair off his forehead.

He was so fucking handsome that Yoongi’s eyes hurt.

Right at that moment, Seokjin was crouched beside Juwon near the back railing of the boat, patiently coaching the boy through his first clumsy attempts to thread bait onto his hook. Yoongi could see his son getting frustrated for a moment or two, but instead of taking it and doing it for him, Seokjin said something that made Juwon meet his eyes and giggle, and then clearly encouraged the boy to try again. The pair high-fived with glee when Juwon’s next attempt was successful.

Something squeezed inside Yoongi’s chest.

“He’s so hot,” Jimin said, sidling up to Yoongi’s shoulder. “I love a man who’s great with kids, it’s so freaking sexy.”

“Really?” Yoongi said, going for vague but just ending up sounding shifty. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Jimin snorted. “Whatever, hyung.”

A few minutes later, the children were happily settled at the railing of the boat, fishing rods in hand, peering down into the deep blue water and making ever more outlandish predictions about who was going to land the biggest fish for the day. Seokjin came back across to where Yoongi was standing in the cockpit of the boat. He raised one eyebrow in enquiry. “Fishing or coffee?”

Given that Yoongi hadn’t had any coffee that morning - Seokjin told him not to bother about breakfast before they left, that he would take care of it - the answer to that inquiry was as easy as breathing. “Coffee,” he said fervently. “Always coffee.”

Seokjin laughed and the sound was high and squeaky; to Yoongi it sounded more like a windscreen wiper than anything else, and he found it surprisingly charming. “A man after my own heart,” Seokjin declared. “Alright, stay right there. I’ll be back in a second. Try and make sure nobody falls overboard while I’m down below.”

He disappeared through the small hatch by the steering wheel, and emerged from the depths of the boat just a few minutes later with four cups of steaming black coffee on a tray and a pile of triangle gimbap.

“Wow,” Yoongi said, impressed despite his best efforts not to be. “Have you got an actual kitchen down there or something?”

“Galley,” Seokjin corrected, handing Yoongi one of the mugs. “And yes, I do. There’s a cabin, too. Remind me to show you the bed some time, it’s incredibly comfortable.”

His wink was so brief that Yoongi almost missed it. Almost.

*****

Fishing was more fun than Yoongi had ever expected it could be. Seokjin had anchored in a small, sheltered bay, with mountains rising out of the water, above a thin crescent of sandy beach. There were no other boats anywhere within sight, and to their east, the morning sun rose out of the almost still ocean, warming the air gently around them.

Taehyung refused to fish. He didn’t like slimy things, he claimed, and that was probably fair enough as far as Yoongi was concerned. Jimin wasn’t so squeamish, but he seemed more interested in snapping photos of them all and flirting constantly with both Seokjin and Yoongi to put any serious effort into actual fishing.

The two kids, on the other hand, persisted long after the point Yoongi would have predicted that Juwon would normally lose interest. They both caught several fish, some too small to keep but at least one each that didn’t have to be thrown back. The photo that Yoongi took of his delighted son proudly holding up his very first catch was definitely going to be printed and stuck to the fridge in their apartment as soon as they got home from holidays.

Seokjin himself turned out to be some kind of fish whisperer, and reeled in one large fish after another, their silver scales glinting and flashing as they broke the surface of the water. “We’re all going to eat very well tonight,” Seokjin declared as he expertly unhooked the last one and slid it into the icebox.

Yoongi threw a line in a few times, and even caught one decent size mackerel, but on the whole he was more than content to sit in the sunshine and watch his happy kid having the time of his life with his new friend.

“This is nice isn’t it?” Taehyung said, from where he was stretched out full length beside Yoongi on a cushioned bench. He’d taken his shirt off a little while previously, and Yoongi was rather unsuccessfully trying to keep his eyes averted from the acres of golden skin on display.

“It is,” Yoongi agreed. “It really is.”

“Bet you’re glad you spoke to Seokjin-hyung now, huh?” Taehyung squinted cheekily up at him, looking extremely young, and Yoongi resisted the urge to flick him on the ear like he would do to Juwon when the boy was being sassy.

“I am,” Yoongi said. “But only because of the fishing.”

“Right,” Taehyung agreed, grinning. “The fishing.”

He sat upright with an effortlessness that Yoongi envied deeply, and then rose to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. “Hey hyung,” he called to Seokjin. “Is it ok for us to swim here?”

“Swim? Sure.” Seokjin gestured to the ladder which led up to a small high deck over the bridge area. “You can even jump off the top if you’re feeling really adventurous.”

Taehyung whooped with delight, and in an instant he and Jimin were shedding clothing and flinging it haphazardly across the boat. The two small boys danced excitedly around them, clamouring to join in.

“You really want to jump from all the way up there?” Yoongi asked his son, eyeing the height of the top deck doubtfully. Personally he thought it was unlikely that Juwon would actually take the plunge, once faced with the prospect of it in front of him. “Ok, but you have to keep your buoyancy vest on, alright?”

To Yoongi’s surprise and secret pride, Juwon proved him wrong. First Jimin and then Taehyung leapt from the top of the boat, plunging into the deep blue water with huge splashes and surfacing to tread water and shout encouragement to Juwon and Dongwoo. The two small boys both dithered, but then with a shared look of determination between them, leapt out into space, their hands clasped, skinny legs windmilling frantically as they fell and shrieks of part excitement, part terror echoing across the bay. Both of them popped up to the surface again like corks, and Yoongi and Seokjin cheered and clapped from the boat as the four in the water all exchanged high fives and slippery hugs.

“Can we swim to the beach, Appa?” Juwon called, pointing to the strip of sand some fifty metres away.

“We’ll go with them,” Jimin added, and Yoongi gave them a double thumbs up of assent. The two boys immediately set off to race each other to the shore, but when Jimin turned to follow, Taehyung grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back around, tugging his boyfriend in until their mouths met in a joyful, spontaneous kiss. They were both wet, skin glistening with seawater and hair slicked back, and when Jimin pressed in, the way his legs wrapped around Taehyung's hips was clearly visible through crystal clear water. Yoongi looked hastily away.

Seokjin seemed to have no such compunction. “They’re so fucking pretty, those two,” he said with a sigh.

Yoongi glanced back at the pair, who were just breaking apart with one last quick peck before turning to follow the children to the beach. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They certainly are.”

“Oh to be young and in love again.” Seokjin’s tone was wistful, and he met Yoongi’s eyes with a self-deprecating shrug. “But it’s been a long, long time since I’ve been either of those things.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agreed again. “Yeah, me too.”

*****

Seokjin insisted that Yoongi take the wheel and drive the boat for a while on the way back.

“You’ll enjoy it,” Seokjin said, refusing to accept Yoongi’s assurances that he had no desire to. “I’ll show you how. It’s very relaxing.”

Yoongi had to admit that he was right. There was something very soothing about the low thrum of the engine under his feet, the way the ocean beyond the prow of the boat drew his eye all the way out to the horizon, so much further than he usually focussed while dealing with the minutiae of everyday life. He could feel the muscles of his face relaxing, his breathing slowing, his lips wanting naturally to curve into a tiny upwards lift.

Seokjin stood close behind his shoulder, one hand propped on a pillar that supported the upper deck, the other sometimes being used to reach around Yoongi to show him how to use the boat controls or make minor adjustments to their course. At other times that hand fell quite naturally onto Yoongi’s shoulder, warm and heavy.

Yoongi found that rather enjoyable too. Albeit not quite so relaxing.

“So,” Seokjin said, leaning in close to make himself heard over the throb of the motor and the hiss of water passing by the hull. Close enough that Yoongi could feel his breath against his ear. “Have you enjoyed our little fishing expedition, Yoongi-ssi? Worth getting up at 5am?”

Yoongi glanced over his shoulder at him, and then quickly away as he met Seokjin’s eyes at disconcertingly close range. “It’s been fun,” he admitted. “I’m still not sure that I could be convinced to get up at 5am every day, but we have really enjoyed it. Thank you for inviting us, Seokjin-ssi.”

Seokjin patted his shoulder. “You’re very welcome. But really, I should be the one thanking you.”

“Me?” Yoongi’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. “Why?”

“For keeping us company. Look at those kids.” He tugged gently on Yoongi’s shoulder to turn him towards the back of the boat, gesturing to where Dongwoo and Juwon were huddled together under a pile of thick towels, heads together and giggling. “Dongwoo-ie… well, he’s had a hard year. It’s nice to see him make a new friend. He doesn’t have many of those at the moment.”

“Oh?” That did surprise Yoongi. As far as Yoongi had seen Dongwoo was a nice kid, a little shy, maybe, but polite and even chatty once he warmed up to whoever he was with. He and Juwon had certainly hit it off straight away.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said, and the trace of sadness was clear in his voice. “He had to move schools at the end of last summer when he came to live with me, and as if being the new kid wasn’t bad enough, living with your gay uncle is definitely weird enough to single him out from the pack, poor bugger. He hasn’t settled in that well at all.”

Yoongi’s brain had frozen instantly on the ‘gay’ part of Seokjin’s statement, and it took him a moment before it stuttered into life again and he was able to process the rest of what he’d just been told. “You’re his uncle? Sorry, I just assumed he was yours.”

Seokjin shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you? And besides, he is mine now, in all the ways that count. His appa was my brother, but he passed away just over a year ago.”

Yoongi did turn to look at him then, and at that moment, Seokjin’s face suddenly looked every one of his years. “I’m so sorry, Seokjin-ssi. That must have been devastating for you both.” He hesitated for a moment, but he figured Seokjin wouldn’t have brought his brother’s death up if he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. “Was it… sudden?”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “He was sick for a long time. That was no fun for any of us, but the silver lining was that it gave Dongwoo-ie and I time to get used to the idea that it was going to be just him and I.”

“Mmm.” Yoongi stared at the headland growing slowly larger ahead of them as they approached, trying to decide how to phrase his next question sensitively. “That still must have been a huge adjustment. Is Dongwoo’s mother…?”

Seokjin’s lip curled, and his eyes narrowed in a way that shouldn’t have been so sexy, given the subject they were talking about. “I don’t have a fucking clue where she is,” he said contemptuously. “She hasn’t been around since he was a toddler.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi said.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Seokjin agreed. “Anyway, it’s just nice to see the kid having a bit of fun. He deserves it.”

“Sounds like maybe you deserve it too, Seokjin-ssi,” Yoongi said quietly.

Seokjin considered him for a long moment, and then visibly shook off his serious mood, his expression changing completely as a wicked expression lit up his eyes. “You’re so right, Yoongi-ssi,” he said, his voice dropping almost to a purr. “I do deserve some fun. Are you offering to help me?”

Yoongi gaped at him, mouth hanging open and cheeks hot. “Oh, well, I…uh, I didn’t mean…” he stuttered, until Seokjin laughed and nudged him away from the wheel.

“Here, let me drive, Yoongi-ssi, you’re going to run us aground if you get distracted that easily.”

*****

Back at the campground, Seokjin announced that he was going to clean the fish, and that he expected his junior apprentices to assist him. “You catch it, you clean it,” he said firmly.

“That means Appa needs to come and help us too,” Juwon pointed out.

“No he doesn’t,” Seokjin replied, his face perfectly bland. “I didn’t see him catch a single one. Which means Appa gets to go and have a nice quiet afternoon nap while you two rugrats are elbow deep in stinky fish guts.”

“Eww, gross.” Juwon’s face looked utterly horrified. Yoongi wondered with some amusement whether he’d thought cleaning the fish meant washing them, or something equally inoffensive. “But Appa did catch one, I saw him!”

“Nope,” Seokjin said, putting an arm around Juwon’s shoulders and ushering him towards the big cooler full to the brim with their catch. “You definitely imagined that, Juwon-ah.” He winked at Yoongi over his shoulder. “Have a nice nap, Yoongi-ssi. Come on, Dongwoo-yah, you can show your friend how it’s done.”

Yoongi was surprised to find that he was genuinely conflicted. Under normal circumstances the prospect of cleaning fish was something he would go far out of his way to avoid, but if he got to do it in the company of Kim Seokjin… well, Yoongi was only a man, after all, and a very weak man at that, with eyes in his head and a well developed appreciation for a handsome face and impressive set of shoulders.

A nap, on the other hand… a sudden huge yawn cracked his jaws. A nap also sounded extremely good.

“Bedtime for tired Appas,” Taehyung announced, linking his arm through Yoongi’s and tugging him towards his tent. “You need some shut-eye, hyung.”

Jimin hooked his hand around Yoongi’s elbow on the other side. “Taehyungie and I are going to have a nap too.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, a smirk on his plump lips. “You could join us, if you wanted to.”

Yoongi was almost sure he was joking. He shook them off with an embarrassed chuckle. “Alright, you brats. Let me go. I’ll see you later.”

Lying on top of his sleeping bag a few minutes later, the air inside the tent pleasantly toasty from the sunshine falling on the canvas, Yoongi could sleepily admit to himself that a nap was probably exactly what he needed. He was certain Seokjin had co-opted Juwon into helping just to give Yoongi a bit of respite for an hour, and as a single parent himself he was deeply, genuinely appreciative of that simple act.

Kim Seokjin was definitely not what he had expected, he mused. He was nothing like the selfish asshole Yoongi had pictured in his mind during those wakeful early mornings this week. There was also much more to the man than his handsome face and jokey, bright-to-the-point-of-overbearing exterior would indicate. He had a thoughtfulness to him, an innate consideration and care for those around him that Yoongi hadn’t come across very often. Twenty year old Yoongi probably wouldn’t have noticed that, and if he had, definitely wouldn’t have appreciated it. But Yoongi hadn’t been twenty for a very, very long time, and right now that quality was reassuring, and fucking attractive.

Yoongi found that he liked Kim Seokjin very much indeed. That he very much wanted to know more about him.

But that would have to wait for another hour or two. Because first, Yoongi was going to get some sleep.

*****

They cooked the fish for dinner in one of the communal undercover barbeque areas. Or rather, Seokjin cooked, and everyone else did exactly what he instructed them to.

“Can you cook, Yoongi-ssi?” Seokjin had demanded as soon as he arrived.

“I’m not bad.” Yoongi actually thought he was a pretty good cook. He wasn’t going to say that in front of Seokjin, though, given that the man seemed to be extremely competent at everything he did.

“Excellent,” Seokjin had declared, tossing Yoongi an apron. “You can be my sous chef for the night, none of these other twits have a single clue when it comes to food.”

Jimin and Taehyung had been put in charge of keeping the children occupied, and the four were currently engaged with some extremely noisy, extremely rough version of tiggy that Yoongi had his doubts was actually a real game. They were happy, though, and so Yoongi wasn’t going to question anything too deeply.

Hoseok was responsible for arranging the table with a motley collection of mismatched crockery and cutlery that came partly from Seokjin’s camper and partly from the manager’s residence. “Seokjin-hyung invited us,” Hoseok had explained to a surprised Yoongi. “He and Dongwoo have been down here almost every weekend all summer, so we’ve gotten to know them a bit. Well enough to know he’s a great cook, especially when he’s got fresh fish in his hands. I make a point of never turning down an invitation to eat with them.” Namjoon, seated at the picnic table nearby and looking rather disconsolate, made a soft grumbling sound, and Hoseok reached across to pat him consolingly on the shoulder. “It’s alright, love, no-one's going to make you eat fish. You can just have rice and salad and stuff.”

“He hates seafood,” Hoseok whispered to Yoongi, leaning in so that his husband couldn’t hear. “Also he’s embarrassed because last time he dropped one of hyung’s favourite dishes and broke it, and now Seokjin-ssi won’t let him help with anything, even setting the table. I think poor Joonie has a little crush on him, too, as much as he won’t admit it, so it’s doubly mortifying for him.”

Hoseok seemed remarkably laid back about who might be interested in his husband, and who Namjoon might be interested in in turn. Yoongi couldn’t decide if he was supremely confident, or supremely oblivious. The cheerful campground manager might come across very sunny, but there was a sharpness to him that meant Yoongi was very doubtful he was oblivious to anything that went on around him. He must just be extremely secure in his relationship.

Yoongi envied that. A lot. His divorce might be two years in the past now, but the echoes of it still rippled in his self-confidence, and he hadn’t felt even the remotest bit ready to consider facing the prospect of dating again, no matter how lonely he was in the weeks that Juwon was with his mother.

He glanced up from the salad he was preparing to swiftly look sideways at Seokjin, whose big strong hands were expertly flipping fish on the barbeque.

Until now, anyway. Maybe he was starting to feel just a tiny bit ready. Maybe.

“Oh look, there’s Jungkookie!” Hoseok said, glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder and brightening visibly. “Let’s call him over, that’ll cheer Joonie up. Kook-ah! Over here!”

Jungkook, who had been walking past with his hands in his pockets, apparently oblivious to the presence of the group not ten feet away from him, looked up and immediately veered over. “Oh hi, Hobi-hyung, Yoongi-hyung. I didn’t notice you here, I was just… you know, going past.”

Given that Jungkook normally closed his coffee van and returned to his home in town by 1pm at the latest, Yoongi strongly suspected that there was very little coincidence involved, and probably a whole lot of scheming on the part of Jimin and Taehyung.

“Well that’s lucky for us then, isn’t it?” Hoseok declared. He called over to Seokjin. “Seokjin-ssi, is it alright if Jungkookie joins us for dinner? There’s plenty, isn’t there?”

Seokjin waved expansively over the barbeque. “Of course. Anything to keep the man who makes my coffee happy. Welcome, Jungkook-ah.”

“Here, kiddo, come and sit by Namjoonie,” Hoseok said, putting a genial arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and steering him towards where his husband sat. “A pretty face like yours is exactly what he needs to make him stop sulking.”

Dinner was a noisy and chaotic affair, but the most enjoyable meal Yoongi had had in a long time. Juwon ate half his body weight in fish, which surprised Yoongi greatly, given that it normally had to be forced down the kid by a mixture of cajoling and threats whenever he served it at home.

“It always tastes better when you catch it yourself,” Seokjin replied with a knowing smile when Yoongi confided as much to him. “You’ll just have to come out fishing with us again, Yoongi-ssi.”

Namjoon turned out to be far more than just a pretty face and a nice set of legs. Yoongi was interested to find out that the man was an editor for an independent publishing house. “I work from home, and it’s pretty flexible,” he explained. “So I can help Hoseokie out with the maintenance and other stuff around here.” He and Yoongi also discovered that they had almost identical taste in music, and spent an animated half hour discussing hip hop and music production, with an endearingly besotted Jungkook doing his best to join in but mostly just hanging adoringly on every word that Namjoon said.

Hoseok sat in the middle of the table and alternated between joining in the noisy chatter of Jimin, Taehyung and the two little boys at one end, and the grown ups, as he put it, at the other. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for following several conversations at once, and being able to join in at any point without missing a beat. It was not a talent that Yoongi shared, but he was able to admire it in the other man.

Seokjin was quieter than Yoongi had expected; so far during their short acquaintance the man had proved himself to be larger than life, and Yoongi would have anticipated him to dominate the dinner table conversation. He seemed content to sit back and observe, however, concentrating on handing around dishes, making sure that everyone’s plates were filled and each person had a drink. He wasn’t silent, making an occasional comment or laughing his squeaky laugh, but he was quiet enough that Yoongi found himself somehow acutely conscious of him, sitting close by his elbow, and felt a little thrill each time their shoulders or knees happened to brush.

Occasionally, Yoongi would glance up at him, and more often than not found Seokjin’s eyes already resting on him. Whenever that happened, Yoongi was always the first one to look away.

By the time everyone had finished eating, the moon was rising over the far shore of the lake, throwing silver glimmers onto the dark surface of the water. It was so pretty, Yoongi thought, leaning back in his chair with the last of his drink in his hand. He felt pleasantly full, and nicely tired. He was surrounded by new friends, and his kid looked happy.

It was turning out to be a good holiday after all.

*****

Juwon threw an epic tantrum at bedtime.

The rational part of Yoongi’s brain knew that it was just because he was overtired, overstimulated, generally overcooked. It had been a big day, with an early start, new experiences, and lots of people. Yoongi was trying desperately to be sympathetic.

But it had been 90 fucking minutes of trying to convince the kid to brush his teeth and Yoongi was about to hit the fucking roof.

“C’mon, Juwon-ah,” Yoongi reasoned, trying for kind and firm, but mostly just sounding exasperated. “We brush our teeth before bed every single night. I’m not asking you to do something out of the ordinary here.”

“I’m not doing it!” Juwon shrieked, throwing a pair of socks at Yoongi’s head. He ducked, but they bounced off his shoulder. The rest of his clothing was strewn all over the tent, pulled out of his bag and flung every which way in a fit of temper when Yoongi tried to get him to put his pyjamas on.

“You need to, bub,” Yoongi said. “You had that candy after dinner. Your teeth will all fall out if you don’t brush them.”

“I don’t care,” Juwon gasped between furious sobs. “I hope they do. That would serve you right because you’re so mean to me!”

That was fucking rich, Yoongi though bitterly, when he’d spent every moment of his waking hours this week - and many when he would normally be sleeping - trying to keep his son happy, make sure he was having a fun holiday. “How am I mean, exactly, Min Juwon?” he demanded, a hint of temper creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. “Was it when we went fishing this morning? Or when I got you that icecream this afternoon? Or maybe it was letting you stay up a whole hour after your bedtime? That was so mean of me.”

“Dongwoo didn’t have to go to bed,” Juwon protested tearfully. “It was so unfair.”

“Dongwoo is a whole year older than you,” Yoongi reasoned. “Besides, his uncle makes the rules for him. I make the rules for our family. We don’t do things just because other people do.”

Another pair of socks went flying past his head. They missed this time.

“Please, kiddo.” Yoongi was almost pleading now. “We’ve had such a good day, don’t spoil it now. You’re just tired. Please. Just brush your teeth so you can go to bed.”

“You might have had a good day,” Juwon spat, vindictively pulling the plug of his air mattress and letting the air hiss out in a rush. Yoongi didn’t even bother trying to stop him, too exhausted by now. “I had a bad day. I’m only tired because you forced me to get up early to go on your stupid fishing trip. I hate fishing!”

Yoongi was temporarily speechless, the sheer audacity of the mistruth leaving him sputtering. “But… you…Juwon! You loved fishing. You had so much fun!”

“I did not! I hated it! I hate fishing! I hate camping!” His voice was getting louder and louder with every exclamation, despite Yoongi’s frantic attempts to shush him. Yoongi was painfully aware of how thin the canvas of their tent was, and how close their neighbours were.

“I hate this stupid holiday and I hate you! I want to go home to Eomma!”

To Yoongi’s horror, his chest tightened and his eyes began to sting. He squeezed them shut and ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, struggling to pull a deep breath in.

“Juwon-ah…”

There was a light scratch on the door flap of the tent, and then the zipper rose. Taehyung poked his head through the gap.

Juwon took one look at him and dove under his sleeping bag, pulling the covers up over his head.

“I’m so sorry about the noise,” Yoongi said helplessly. “He’s just tired. We’ll try and keep it down, I promise.”

“Hyung.” Taehyung crawled into the tent and plonked himself down beside him. “Stop. That’s not why I’m here.”

Yoongi sniffed and wiped frantically at his eyes. Taehyung put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Take a break, hyung. Go get some fresh air. Let me have a try.”

“No, I can’t, I need to -”

“Let me try,” Taehyung repeated firmly. “Let me help. Please.”

Yoongi took a deep, shuddering breath, and then nodded. “Ok,” he said. It felt like defeat, but fuck, he really needed a break. “Thanks, Taehyung-ah. I’ll just be… out there. If you need me.”

Outside, he hovered uncertainly in the dark, not sure what to do with himself. He was half tempted to walk down to the lake, the wide expanse of starry sky and the coolness rolling off the water beckoning him. He wanted to stay within earshot, though, and so he settled for crossing the gravel road in front of their campsite to where a wooden picnic table sat on a patch of grass. He sat down with a sigh, burning his face in his hands and letting his shoulder droop with exhaustion.

He’d so wanted this week to be fun, to be a time when he and Juwon could just hang out, have fun together, without all the daily pressures of school and work, the busyness of schedules and city life. And it had been, at times. There had been moments of joy, hours together when they were simply enjoying themselves.

But Yoongi had forgotten that holidays with kids were still just fucking hard work a lot of the time.

And crappy sleep had a way of making everything ten times harder.

He sighed again, deeper this time.

A big, warm hand landed on the nape of his neck and squeezed lightly. Startled, Yoongi looked up in time to see Seokjin sit down next to him.

“Rough night?” the man asked sympathetically. He pushed a can of beer across the table towards Yoongi, and then pulled a second one out of his pocket. “I thought you could use a drink. And maybe some company.” His hand slid down from Yoongi’s neck, but stayed in the centre of his back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

Yoongi smiled wryly. The movement felt stiff on his face. “Thanks. Both sound fucking good, actually.” He popped the top on his can and took a long swallow. The beer was cold, and the tickle of the bubbles running down his throat was oddly grounding, pulling Yoongi out of his spiralling thoughts and back into the present.

Listening carefully, he could hear the murmur of Taehyung’s deep voice, calm and measured, then Juwon’s higher tones answering, but not sounding upset. Further away, Yoongi could just pick up the soft lapping of ripples hitting the lake shore, and a night bird calling across the water. It was peaceful, and as he and Seokjin sat in silence, some of the tension began to drain out of his shoulders, his muscles softening under the other man’s moving hand.

“I’m sorry about the ruckus,” he said eventually, after Seokjin made no attempt to start any conversation. “I hope it didn’t keep Dongwoo awake.”

Seokjin snorted, and took his hand off Yoongi’s back to open his own beer. Yoongi instantly wished he’d put it back.

“No fear of that,” Seokjin said. “That kid falls asleep the instant his head hits the pillow, and not even a freight train going through his bedroom would wake him up. He sleeps like a log.” Seokjin took a sip of his beer, and glanced sideways at Yoongi. “That’s just sheer bloody luck on my part,” he added. “Definitely not good management. He’s been like that since he was a baby. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have a kid that struggles with sleep. That shit is rough. I can barely function when I don’t get enough sleep.”

“Me neither,” Yoongi said dryly. “As in, right now.”

He looked up at the ripping sound of the tent zipper opening, bracing himself for Taehyung to call him over again. To his amazement, the younger man stepped out first, and then Juwon followed, dressed in his pyjamas and clinging to Taehyung’s hand. Taehyung crouched down, and Juwon climbed nimbly up onto his back, giggling a tiny bit as he was jostled by Taehyung bouncing him into a comfortable position. They headed for the ablutions block, and Yoongi could see that Juwon was clutching his wash-bag in one tiny hand. The little boy kept his head resolutely turned away from Yoongi as they went past, but Taehyung flashed him a grin and a quick thumbs up.

“Well,” Yoongi said. He picked up his beer again and drained half the can in one go.

“Kids, huh?” Seokjin said sympathetically.

“Fuck, yeah.” Yoongi shook his head ruefully. “Do you know what he said to me just now? He said I forced him to go fishing this morning, and that he hated every minute of it.”

Seokjin chuckled appreciatively. “What a little monkey. Talk about taking creative licence with reality.”

Yoongi felt like pulling his hair out by the roots. “Right? That is so not what happened. I feel like I live in some kind of post-truth world some days. I mean, he was having a ball this morning on the boat, right?”

“He was,” Seokjin confirmed.

Yoongi took another deep gulp of his beer. “He does this all the time, and I can’t even really say I think he’s lying to me, because when he changes his memory of stuff in retrospect he genuinely believes his version. He’s so fucking convincing that sometimes I start to doubt myself, you know? It’s like being gaslit by your own kid.”

Seokjin whistled. “Rough. They all do that though. Kids use their imaginations all day every day, especially bright kids like Juwon. It’s age appropriate for them to have a… I don’t know… a kind of blurry division between thoughts and reality. He’s not a bad kid, Yoongi-ssi.”

“I know he’s not,” Yoongi said. “He’s a great kid, and I fucking adore him, but some days are just…”

“An absolute freaking nightmare?” Seokjin suggests, one side of his mouth tilting up in a grin.

“That about sums it up.”

Seokjin held his beer up, and Yoongi clinked his against it. He met Seokjin’s eyes over the rim of the can, and the warmth in the other man’s expression made heat rise in his cheeks. He looked away quickly, and out of the corner of his eye, saw Taehyung and Juwon returning from the bathrooms.

Seokjin followed his gaze. “That was quick.”

Taehyung led Juwon across to where the two older men sat, and urged the boy forward, stooping to whisper something in his ear. Juwon nodded and came forward shyly, stopping in front of Yoongi and looking down at the ground, plucking at the hem of his pyjama top.

“Hey kiddo,” Yoongi said. “You all washed up and ready for bed?”

“Yeah. Taetae helped me with the toothpaste.” Juwon glanced back at Taehyung, and then looked straight at Yoongi, his shoulders straightening with determination. “Appa, I’m sorry I had a big tantrum.”

Yoongi tilted his head to the side, touched by the little quiver in his son’s voice. “That’s ok, baby, you were tired. But I appreciate the apology.”

“I’m sorry I said I hated fishing,” Juwon continued doggedly. “That wasn’t true. I liked fishing. Also I’m sorry I said I hate you coz that’s not true either. I love you, Appa.”

Yoongi held out his arms, and felt a surge of relief when his son walked into the hug without hesitation. He turned his head to kiss Juwon’s temple. “I love you too, bub. How about we get you to bed now, hey, so you can have a nice long sleep?”

“I’ll take him,” Taehyung said. “I promised Juwonnie I’d tuck him in. You stay and finish your drink with hyung.”

Yoongi hesitated, but his son was already reaching for Taehyung’s hand and tugging him toward the tent, so he let them go without any argument.

“He’s a wonder with kids, that boy,” Seokjin observed.

“Taehyung-ah? Yeah, he is.” Yoongi’s short laugh sounded hollow to his ears, and it matched the sensation churning in the pit of his stomach. “You know, Seokjin-ssi, parenting can be such a fucking lose-lose game. I mean, I should be happy right now, yeah? Juwonie’s calmed down, he’s not upset any more, and I didn’t even have to do it myself. Winner. And yet instead I’m sitting here feeling sad and a bit hurt because he did that so easily for Taehyung, but wouldn’t for me. I’m his dad, you know? I should be able to do that.”

Seokjin hummed thoughtfully. His hand found its way back to its former spot over Yoongi’s spine. Yoongi held very still, barely daring to breathe in case the movement made him take it away again.

“I get it,” the other man said. “I really do. I’ve had a crash course in parenting this last year and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, so I get where you’re coming from. But I want to say a few things about what you just said to me. It’s probably pushy of me but I’m your hyung so you really have to listen, I’m afraid.”

“Are you my hyung?” Yoongi asked doubtfully, momentarily distracted. In the dim moonlight Seokjin’s face had a timeless quality to it, an ethereal beauty that could have been twenty five years old or five hundred.

“Please, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin scoffed, having clearly decided that formalities were no longer required. “I”m forty. You can’t be a day older than thirty six.”

“Actually I’m thirty-nine,” Yoongi countered.

Seokjin’s eyebrows went up. “Really? You’ve got such a baby face. Well, I’m still your hyung, so I’m still going to tell you what I think even though you never asked. Listen up.”

He taps Yoongi once, distinctly but not painfully, between the shoulderblades. “First of all, Taehyung-ah has some kind of gift with kids, that much is obvious. Dongwoo also adored him from the instant saw him. But that’s not the whole story. It doesn’t mean that Taehyung is better at handling your son than you are. Juwonie is six, right?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Well, he’s just hit that age where he’s starting to become self conscious, capable of being embarrassed by his own behaviour. Juwon worships Taehyung, but they’re still practically strangers. Of course he’s not going to want to have a screaming tantrum in front of him, that would be too mortifying for him.”

Yoongi remembered how Juwon’s crying had instantly stopped when Taehyung appeared, how the boy had hidden his tear-stained face under his bedding, and nodded again, more slowly this time. It made sense.

“Second.” Seokjin taps twice this time. “The difference with you… He might be scared that chucking a screaming fit will drive Taehyung away, but he doesn’t have to worry about that with you. He feels safe with you. Totally secure. He knows you’re gonna love him no matter what he does, how he acts. That’s why kids always save their worst behaviour for their parents, you know? That’s so common.”

That also made sense, when Seokjin put it those terms. “Great,” Yoongi said, feigning sarcasm to hide the way his heart was lightening by the second. “I love him the most, so he treats me the worst. Sounds totally fair.”

“Nothing about parenting has ever been fair, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin pointed out, and that was something Yoongi could totally agree with.

They clinked cans again.

“And lastly,” Seokjin continued, “he’s just tired. Holidays are exhausting for kids. He’s had a big day. But you already know that.”

“I do,” Yoongi said. “But it never hurts to be reminded. Thanks.” He hesitated, and then added, “Hyung.”

In the silence that followed, Yoongi could hear Taehyung singing, his voice a low, rich baritone. He couldn’t make out the individual words, but the way the melody rose and fell was so familiar to him. It was a song Yoongi’s own eomma had sung to him when he was a young child. One that Yoongi had sung to Juwon himself when he was a baby.

He hadn’t done that in a long time. He didn’t know why he’d ever stopped. He should really start again.

He shook himself to break the reverie, and turned slightly towards Seokjin. The other man let his hand slip from Yoongi’s back.

“So,” Yoongi said. “You’re suspiciously good at this.”

“Oh? At what? I’m good at many, many things, Yoongi-yah, you’ll need to be more specific.” Seokjin’s face stayed maddeningly neutral.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “At the whole child psychology thing. You’re not a therapist in real life, are you?”

Seokjin laughed, high and squeaky. “No, Yoongi-yah, hyung is not a therapist. I’m gonna take that as a compliment though. I actually work in finance. Very boring, I’m afraid.”

It didn’t really suit him, Yoongi thought. He made a mental note to come back to that topic some time. Later. Maybe next time they had a drink together.

“You must have read a lot of parenting books then,” Yoongi persisted.

“Ah, no.” Seokjin rubbed a hand over the top of his head, looking unusually self-conscious. “We’ve just been to a lot of counselling in the last year, Dongwoo-ie and I. I thought it was probably best, given everything. Every Thursday straight after school, except for school holidays.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “You can’t help picking up a few things along the way.”

Yoongi was impressed. “That’s great, though, hyung. It really shows.” He sipped thoughtfully at his beer. “Maybe I should look into some therapy for us. Me and Juwonnie, I mean.”

“Oh?”

Yoongi appreciated the way Seokjin invited him to say more if he wanted to, without the pressure of a direct question. He rarely talked about his break-up, but tonight, for some reason, he was feeling raw enough - and mellow enough - to be okay putting himself out of his comfort zone a little. “Juwonnie was only three when I separated from his mum. He was too young to really know what was going on, but in the last year or so I think it’s started to affect him emotionally a lot more. I mean, divorce is pretty common, so it’s not like he’s getting bullied at school or anything, but he sees other kids with both parents living together and he wants to know why he can’t have that too. I do my best but sometimes I just don’t know what to tell him, you know?”

Seokjin’s face softens. “Yeah, I do know. And I think therapy would definitely help. In fact I’m pretty much of the opinion that all families should go. We’re all kinda fucked up in our own separate ways, after all.” He scooted across the bench and wrapped his arm tightly around Yoongi’s shoulders, pulling him in against his side. “I don’t know if you need to hear this or not right now, Yoongi-yah, but you’re doing a good job. That kid is lucky to have you.”

“Thank you.” Yoongi forced the words up through a throat almost too tight to let them through. “I think I did need to hear that.”

“Aww, look at you two,” Taehyung crooned, sliding onto the bench on the opposite side of the table. Yoongi hadn’t even heard him come out of the tent. He tried to subtly move across but Seokjin’s arm tightened, not letting him move. “Are you bonding over parenting trauma? This is so cute.”

“Maybe I just wanted to give Yoongi a little hug, hey?” Seokjin countered. “Did you think of that, brat?”

“Well,” Taehyung said innocently, “if that’s the case I can’t say I blame you, hyung, I think Yoongi-hyung is pretty huggable myself.”

Yoongi’s face was hot, but he hoped the darkness was thick enough to hide it. “Is Juwonnie asleep then?”

“Like an angel,” Taehyung confirmed, his voice honey-thick with fondness. “He’s the cutest, I just want to bite him.”

“Thank you, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi said. “I mean it, really. I was this close to snapping earlier.” He held up his thumb and forefinger just a millimetre apart. “I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes he pushes my buttons.”

Taehyung waved the thanks away. “Pfft, it was nothing hyung. I live with Jimin, remember, and he’s the biggest diva out there. Juwon having a tantrum is a piece of cake compared to my beloved boyfriend when he’s chucked his toys out of the cot. Anyway, I’m interrupting, I’ll leave you two to your little moonlight tryst.”

He got up and started to walk towards his caravan, but after three seconds he turned back. His eyes were dancing. “Hyungs, you should totally go out on a date! Tomorrow night. There’s this great little seafood restaurant in town, it’s always booked out but Jungkookie knows a guy, he could get you a table for sure. Jiminie and I will babysit the boys, it’ll be so much fun. Say yes!”

Yoongi laughed nervously. “Taehyung-ah. Kind of presumptuous of you, isn’t it?”

Taehyung cocked his head to the side. “What, because you have an ex-wife and a kid? Hyung, I’ve never claimed that my gaydar is perfect, but it’s not that far off. There are many flavours of queer that could account for your relationship history. Besides.” He pointed one long elegant finger in Seokjin’s direction. “Look at his face. You couldn’t resist him even if you were straight as an arrow.”

“He has a point,” Seokjin mused. “So, Yoongi-yah. How about it? I think it’s an excellent idea.”

A thousand butterflies erupted into flight in Yoongi’s stomach. “Seriously?”

Seokjin’s expression turned affronted. “I never joke about these things, Yoongi-yah. What’s not to like? Free babysitting. Nice meal. Cute guy. Excellent conversation.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Best of all.. No kids.”

Yoongi had to laugh at that. “Alright, you got me. I’ll have to check if Juwon would be ok with me leaving him, but if he is, then, well… alright.”

“Excellent!” Taehyung clapped his hands, beaming. “Leave the details with me, hyungs, I’ll sort it all out. Jiminie is going to be so excited!”

He practically danced towards his caravan, and Yoongi had to chuckle, watching him go. “He’s something else, that one,” he said, but he meant it admiringly.

“He is,” Seokjin agreed. “It would be tempting to dismiss him as a beautiful widgeon, but he has hidden depths, our Taehyungie.”

“An old soul,” Yoongi said, and Seokjin murmured in agreement.

“Well, Yoongi-yah,” he said, picking up his beer can and shaking it to see if there was anything left. It was empty. “Much as I could sit in the moonlight here with you forever, I’m going to need my beauty sleep if I’m to sweep you off your feet tomorrow.”

Yoongi snorted. “As if.”

“No, you’re right,” Seokjin agreed, climbing to his feet. “I’m beautiful no matter how tired I am, I’m glad you recognise this. But I have been up since before five, and you’re even more tired than I am. Hyung says bedtime, Yoongi-yah.”

*****

When Yoongi crawled into his sleeping bag, it was with a body heavy with weariness, but a heart far lighter than he had expected it to be an hour ago. He leaned over to peer at Juwon, who was sleeping curled on his side, his little hand tucked under his chin. The boy was breathing so softly Yoongi could barely hear the movement of air, and his long dark lashes lay still on his cheeks.

He did look like an angel, just like Taehyung had said.

Yoongi kissed his son’s hair, and then went to sleep.