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That night two weekends ago was a mistake, Hobi knows that. But that doesn’t mean he can’t think of it. Yoongi’s lips against his own, the taste of alcohol on his tongue, the bottle abandoned beside them. Yoongi under him with his hair ruffled, and his face flushed as Hoseok moves his lips down his neck.
All of it was a mistake, a drunken lapse of judgment that he should forget like Yoongi seems to have done. Yoongi’s his best friend, has been since the fourth grade, and is nothing more than that.
—-
Maybe Yoongi’s made a mistake. He thought it would be easier to act like that night didn’t happen when he told Hobi to ‘forget about it’. He thought he wouldn’t remember lips on his each time Hoseok parts his lips to take a breath while playing. He thought he wouldn’t think of hands on his body when Hoseok expertly presses the keys on his french horn.
Each time Yoongi makes eye contact with Hobi, all he can think of is that night. They’re supposed to be best friends until the end of time, he promised so in fifth grade, but friends don’t think about their friends this way.
But he also guesses that maybe normal friends don’t hook up on a drunken evening the weekend before concert season begins.
—-
Hoseok can say that these thoughts started two weekends ago, but he knows the real turning point was freshman year, when Yoongi first got the courage to play piano for him. Hobi remembers Yoongi’s hands traveling across the keys with a natural rhythm, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly upturned in a satisfied smile.
—-
Yoongi had never thought of Hoseok in this way before two weekends ago, but the feeling must’ve been somewhere inside of him for that night to happen. Maybe in sixth grade, when Yoongi’s stomach turned each time Hoseok smiled, was this feeling. Maybe eighth grade, when each touch electrified Yoongi, wasn’t a friend feeling. Maybe sophomore year, when he watched Hoseok’s french horn solo, his eyebrows furrowed, and the melody beautiful, was what caused that night.
—-
Yoongi is at Hoseok’s house for the first time since that night. They’re sitting on the floor, the awkward silence filled by Hobi’s playlist.
Maybe, when the same song that came on two weekends ago plays, they scoot closer, until their knees are touching and Yoongi’s heartbeat’s in his ears. Maybe, when the chorus comes, Hobi trails his hand on the floor until Yoongi’s fits in his palm.
Maybe, as the music fades out, Hoseok rests his hand on Yoongi’s neck and asks him, “Can I kiss you?”
And maybe Yoongi says yes.