Yoongi was ecstatic.
It worried Hoseok.
Yoongi was euphoric, as if two hours ago he hadn't punched in picture frames and had bloody fists.
The older sat beside him, hands clutching a charcoal pencil as he tried to sketch something.
"You never mentioned you could draw," piped Hoseok.
"I don't," laughed Yoongi.
This sudden drive, this sudden impulse to draw, bolts of creativity; it came out of nowhere. It was as if all thoughts of screaming had evaded Yoongi's memory momentarily.
He was glowing.
But it was with fire and Hoseok wondered whether Yoongi would burn.
The younger watched Yoongi's long, pale fingers work upon the page. The younger watched Yoongi bite his lip. The younger watched Yoongi's eyes skim upon the page, eyes laced with admiration as he'd momentarily pause and smile at Hoseok here and there.
They were both sitting in Yoongi's room. Since there was no longer a bed there, they had found an inflatable air mattress and were laying upon it. Yoongi drawing and Hoseok drawn to him.
The stars projector was on, when Yoongi chimed up;
"I want a tattoo."
Hoseok rolled over, looking over at him in surprise and mild amusement.
"Another one? Of what?"
"The sun."
"But you already have one." Hoseok touched the space beneath Yoongi's collarbone, finger grazing it along the smooth skin.
"It's a sun, but it's not my sun."
"It's on your skin so I'd assume it's yours."
Hoseok cocked his head, bangs falling into his eyes, light illuminating and landing stars upon his hair and eyes and skin.
Yoongi touched one of the stars on Hoseok's cheekbone, running his thumb softly along it, feeling his oh so warm skin.
"You're my sun, Hoseok."
Yoongi let his sketchpad fall from his lap, inching closer to the younger. He could practically feel his own skin heating up.
"Your name is what I want on my skin. Tattooed and imprinted there for as long as I live."
Hoseok ducked his head, breathing waveringly. "You remember when I said that when we'd die, we'd turn into stars?"
"Of course I do." Yoongi lay down next to Hoseok on the mattress, switching off the projector. The room darkened instantly, the moonlight glowed through the window, the stars twinkled in the sky, calling those who wanted to wish.
"I don't know if I want to become a star anymore."
"How come?"
"Because all I would be is seen — not touched. For if someone ever tried to, they'd burn."
Yoongi fiddled with Hoseok's fingers, his own slowly travelling between the brunette's hands.
"But imagine this; you'd be viewable from anywhere in the night sky. Those who lost hope, lost sleep, could look up and see you and wish upon you. You would be the symbol of wishes for millions."
Hoseok inched closer to Yoongi, burying his face in his chest.
"But I don't want to be a symbol for millions. I want to be a symbol for you."
Yoongi's breath hitched softly. He wrapped his arms around the younger, feeling his own heartbeat start to beat faster at hearing those blissful words.
"You already are. You, Jung Hoseok, are my wish come true."
Hoseok shivered, raising his head to meet Yoongi's eyes. "I'll be so far away from you, Yoongi." He whispered.
The blonde traced secret patterns, secret words along Hoseok's cheekbones and lips, softly and warmly and slowly.
"If you ever get lonely, just fall. I'll be here to catch you when you become a shooting star."
___
