Dream Come True

Part 1

"Oh! Y/N? I didn't know you were here, love."

Ahh, there he was again—the man of your dreams. And you had to be dreaming because, thanks to the rules, Seokjin could only meet you alone inside your dreams. You heard him loose a light groan of frustration, his voice so close by you should have been able to reach out and touch him. The world of your dreams was still dark though, the always breathtaking vision of him not yet fading in.

"Your brother would kill me if I let you sleep here all night."

Dream Seokjin was right. Your older brother, Yoongi, had laid down his law years ago: his best friend was off-limits. No dating. No kissing. And definitely no fucking. Understandably, he didn't want anything coming between him and the bestie he'd had since kindergarten, especially not a sour relationship with his little sister just in case things went south. So the only times you found yourself alone with Seokjin were here inside your unconscious dreams. Thankfully, your mind was kind to you and let him visit often. Unthankfully, it was so kind that seeing the man during your waking hours was sometimes a little torturous. It was why, even though Yoongi had given you permission to crash in Seokjin's bed tonight, you'd ended up on their uncomfortable couch instead. Better a stiff back than the torment of smelling your one true temptation all night long.

You heard a light pop as Seokjin clucked his tongue. "The pull-out's been broken for weeks. How could he let you fall asleep here?" The scene of this dream still had yet to form in your mind's eye, even though Seokjin's sweet voice still sounded so temptingly close.

Jungkook liked to joke that you spent your spare time fucking out your frustration over the cockblock. As your best friend and roommate, he might've been a little right in analyzing your bad habits. Though it was rich coming from him, a masochist in his own right. A photographer with a keen eye for gorgeous men, he'd called your brother his ultimate muse since the first day they met. But like most people, Yoongi never gave him the time of day and Jungkook had been nursing a pining blueball of his own ever since.

At least being barred from pursuing the man you truly wanted had never left you shy about pursuing your sex life. Maybe the constant temptation of someone you couldn't have made you much more likely to seek out satisfaction elsewhere. Even if it meant you were never truly satisfied, leaving a trail of fuckbuddies who still wanted a bit more of you in your wake. Your habits probably weren't helping to convince your brother that anything between you and Seokjin would ever be a good idea, and even though you would've enjoyed a chance to prove him wrong, you loved Yoongi just enough to respect his wishes. Mostly.

Seokjin had always had a different allure from your usual flings. Your history together since childhood stretched long and had formed in you a crush that ran beyond skin deep. You'd gotten reckless more than once, losing your sense and attempting to buck your brother's request. And time and again, Seokjin had proven he wasn't interested. No amount of revealing outfits, spicy innuendos, or inappropriate proximity seemed to phase the man. Considering how Seokjin spent almost all of his time consumed with school anyway, you should've given up ages ago. If only that one memory would stop resurfacing and making you wonder at the what-ifs. Still, he never seemed to notice you in that way, never acted like he would be interested in anything romantic with you.

Dream Seokjin though? Oh, that was a different story. He was always interested.

"I'm going to take you to sleep in my bed, alright?" he asked in a gentle whisper as though he were sharing a secret. Seokjin's unforgettable scent that you'd been trying to avoid invaded your dreams despite all your best efforts. Fresh cotton, earthy cedar, and that subtle, sweet scent of fruit that always clung to him surrounded you, making you curse your own memory for being so potent. Your dream finally faded into vision just as you felt the soft pressure of his fingertips against the back of your neck. You were still in your brother's living room, though the space was dimly lit and all you could see were Seokjin's bare, broad shoulders, his skin the color of rich honey, damp and glistening in the barely there light. His dark brown hair hung around his face, slightly heavy as though still a little damp from a shower, curling just above the dark-rimmed glasses he usually traded his contacts for at night. You groaned internally, unsure why your subconscious had intended to be so kind, yet so cruel for the evening.