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morning futures

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Seokjin drifts out of sleep slowly, starts to feel the fluffy duvet above him, the padded mattress underneath him, his fingertips still clasping the waist of the sleeping body next to him.

He doesn’t always have the luxury of waking up like this. Usually, it entailed forcing himself out of bed, leaving the warmth of the blankets and the man beside him far too quickly and rushing to get ready for work. Mercifully though, today is a Saturday. No blaring alarms, no cold morning air, just him and his boyfriend.

Blinking awake, he looks over at Jungkook’s sleeping form. He is sprawled out next to him, lying on his stomach with arms up by his head.

They never fall asleep like this, though. Seokjin always needs something to hug to fall asleep, and Jungkook volunteers gladly, wrapping himself against his boyfriend’s chest so close that they can feel each other’s heartbeats slowing as they doze off together. But Jungkook runs hot, even when sleeping only in his boxers, and gets way too warm in Seokjin’s embrace, so he always ends up instinctively curling away from him during the night.

Seokjin remembers one night, shortly after they had started dating, when a whispering Jungkook woke him, drenched in sweat. He had quietly said to him, eyes so large and with regret and apology swirling in them: “Hyungie… hyung, I’m so sorry, but I’m so warm, I can’t sleep. Is it okay if I let go? I don’t want you to sleep bad, I’m really sorry.” His sincere worry had scratched painfully at Seokjin’s heart. Eyes barely open, he had kissed Jungkook’s forehead, untangled his arms from him and sleepily whispered his reassurance: “Don’t worry, baby, it’s fine. You next to me is all I need.”

That was the beginning of their routine of falling asleep cuddling and waking up disentangled. That was, in fact, over three years ago now.  

Seokjin’s eyes roam over Jungkook’s body, trail the tattoos that snake all the way up to his shoulder. He knows them in and out by now, could replicate them on a piece of paper by heart, and yet he can still hardly stop himself reaching over and tracing them. His eyes move along Jungkook’s biceps bulging out from the way his arms are positioned next to his head, and follow the lines of pronounced muscles to his back.

A knot pulls in Seokjin’s stomach, the desire to touch Jungkook, feel him fully with all he has. He moves his arm from where it was draped across the other’s torso and brings his hand from his waist up to his shoulders. With his forefinger he gently follows the dip of Jungkook’s shoulder blade to his spine, trailing down to feel every little bump along his back. When he reaches Jungkook’s lower back, he curls his hand so his fingertips scratch lightly back up his soft skin.

He hears Jungkook letting out a small sigh, probably starting to wake slowly. Seokjin indulges him and continues his ministrations, flattening his hand to rub it up and down Jungkook’s back.

He watches him carefully for a reaction, and then Jungkook moves, turning his head to face him, but with his eyes still closed.

“Yeobo,” he breathes out.

“Good morning, baby.”

“’S a good morning, I’d say,” Jungkook mumbles. He sighs again, as if gearing himself up to fully awaken, and Seokjin watches, terribly endeared, as he lifts himself on his elbows for a moment, hair messy with sleep and a pout on his face. Then, he closes the distance between them, plopping himself on Seokjin’s chest and pressing him down into the mattress. He nuzzles his head against Seokjin’s shoulder and drapes a leg across the other’s thigh. The hand that is not trapped between them finds Seokjin’s other shoulder, rubbing up to his neck and back down to his upper arm.

“I had a dream that Elton John came to Jimin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung’s bachelor party and wished them all the best for their matrimonial journey and then there was a power failure in the noraebang, so he hopped on the piano, I don’t know why there was a piano, and then he belted You’ll Be In My Heart.” Jungkook’s voice is still rough from sleep as he mumbles all of this into Seokjin’s neck.

“Babe, that’s a Phil Collins song.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook sighs again, “I don’t know what my brain was thinking.”

Seokjin laughs softly and wriggles his arm out from under Jungkook in order to drag his fingers through Jungkook’s hair.  

“Maybe it’s choosing Your Song for tonight,” Seokjin wants to wink at him, but it’s impossible from the position they are in. “We can duet, if you like. I’m also partial to Can You Feel The Love Tonight, if you want to honor Elton instead.”

Jungkook nods into his neck. His hair tickles Seokjin’s skin. “Good, but it’ll be painfully cheesy and I’ll stare at you with major heart eyes throughout the entire song and hyungs will be super embarrassed that they’re not the most lovey-dovey couple at their own bachelor party.”  

“That’ll show them,” Seokjin says and draws Jungkook closer to him, wrapping both arms tightly around his waist. “Hey, let me kiss you.”

Jungkook’s head leaves the crook of Seokjin’s neck and he steadies himself with one hand on Seokjin’s shoulder to lean over him.  

“Hey,” he says quietly, before he coming down and bringing his lips to Seokjin’s, leaving one, two, three small kisses there.

Seokjin looks up at him, feeling little stars erupt in his heart as he peers up into Jungkook’s eyes that, despite their sleepy state, regard him with nothing but sheer adoration and gentle care. Once again, he brings his hand up to card through Jungkook’s hair, softly sweeping up the strands that have fallen into his face.

“I love waking up with you so much,” he whispers, surprising himself.

“Me too, yeobo,” Jungkook answers in an equally hushed voice. It’s not the first time they’ve said this, and it’s not the first time that Seokjin thinks that he could wake up next to this man for the rest of his life. But they bask in the fragility and quietude of the moment, their bodies warm against each other as the morning light that sneaks through the curtains draws patterns on their skin.

A hand come’s up to Seokjin’s face and he feels Jungkook’s finger gliding along his eyebrow first, then the slope of his nose, then finally settling on his lips, tracing the shape of his mouth slowly. Jungkook pushes lightly against the plump flesh, his gaze fixated on the motion.

There is an urge in Seokjin to close his eyes, give himself over, but never in a million years does he want to miss the way Jungkook’s own eyes sparkle and shift into something hungrier.

Seokjin brings the hand in Jungkook’s hair down to his neck, squeezing gently to urge him forward, and Jungkook brings his mouth back to Seokjin’s, only to nibble teasingly on Seokjin’s bottom lip.

Seokjin can’t help but exhale a small sigh and he untangles his leg from between Jungkook’s in order to wrap both his legs around the other’s hips to bring him impossibly closer.

Jungkook whispers against his lips: “I love mornings with you and I love you.”

Their naked chests are pressed together, but Seokjin wishes he could feel him everywhere, have all of him. He roams his hands across Jungkook’s back as if to gather up every inch of him.

Maybe it is the Saturday morning glow of happiness, maybe it is the air of romance around their friends' impending marriage, but somehow Seokjin can’t stop his heart from oozing out.

“Have I told you I think you’re the other half of my soul?”

“Yes, hyung, you tell me like once a week when you’re either drunk, high, or sappy from watching a romantic drama,” Jungkook responds with an overdramatic eyeroll, but a big smile blooms on his face at the same time.

“Well, that’s what you signed up for when you got into my bed: sappy confessions and brilliant jokes.”

“Hmm, you still have to deliver on one of those, babe,” Jungkook says, grinning. He brings head back into the crook of Seokjin’s neck, rubbing his nose against it.

“How dare you! Don’t be rude,” he huffs and delivers a pinch to Jungkook’s side. The other squirms, giggling into his neck and beginning to leave a trail of small kisses there as a form of apology.

“You’re hilarious, baby,” Jungkook amends and turns his head to make sure Seokjin hears him clearly, “I hope when you’re disgustingly old and grey and on your deathbed and I will be sitting by your side sobbing into a tissue, you will whisper to me in your weak old man voice ‘Yeobo… did you hear the rumour about butter?’ And I’ll lean close to hear you better, dab at my tear-stained cheeks, and I will say ‘No honey, I didn’t’, and you will whisper with your final breath ‘Well, I’m not going to spread it.’ And your head will fall to the side and your handsome ghost will float out of your body and join the afterlife.”

Seokjin uses all his might to supress the laugh bubbling in his chest. “You’re insufferable and I absolutely want that to happen, too,” he says.

“Okay, deal,” Jungkook concludes and turns his head again to kiss along Seokjin’s jawline. “Now we have something to look forward for the next eighty years.”

“Eighty years, that’s ambitious,” Seokjin says, even though he would happily sell his soul if it meant all those years with Jungkook by his side. “Let’s start with today. What do you wanna do before we get ready for tonight? We have some time.”

“Hmm, nothing. Or. You.” Jungkook’s lips glide along his jawline and he kisses Seokjin just underneath his ear.

A shiver runs down his spine, a delicate lust simmering in his gut. His breath catches when Jungkook pushes his hips down against him where they are joined together, and he chuckles, overwhelmed with the myriad of sensations and the sudden heat prickling underneath his skin.

“I’m up for it, but don’t wear me out, we have to be at Jimin and Yoongi’s at six.”

Jungkook leans over him again, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Hyung, that is literally,” he glances at the digital clock on their nightstand, “eight hours away. What did you think I was planning on doing to you?”

Seokjin’s hands move to grab Jungkook’s hips, pulling him closer against him once more and he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“God, why did they make it so early, anyway? I bet Taehyung planned a whole damn itinerary for them,” Jungkook sighs.

“Maybe Yoongi is just an old man and wants to get to bed early.” Seokjin wants to shrug, but he’s still practically pinned underneath Jungkook.

“Yeobo,” Jungkook moves to pat his forehead with a condescending smile, “you are literally older than Yoongi-hyung.” He kisses the tip of Seokjin’s nose. “Maybe you’re the one that should settle down, hm?” Jungkook winks at him.

There is a brief pause. Somehow, Seokjin knows this has been coming all morning and something erupts in his chest as he finally says it out loud: “Okay, so marry me.” He brings his arms back around Jungkook’s waist, clasping him tightly.

His eyes are fixated on Jungkook, trying to take in every feature of his face and carefully gaging his reaction. All of the sudden, he knows this is what he wants. Completely, totally, all-encompassingly this. Waking up to Jungkook, wrapping his arms around him, making him laugh and letting him tease him for all he’s worth. This, this, this for all of time.

Jungkook doesn’t flinch, his eyes don’t widen in shock. He blinks down at him twice, cups his cheeks and says with a tentative smile: “You mean it?”

“I do. I want you for the rest of my life. Maybe that sounds too selfish, but I do. You bring me so much happiness. Even when I go through the darkest days, I know I will come out happy because you have my back. And even when we’re fighting, I know nothing could tear at the string that ties us together. And when I hold you like this, I just feel like something implodes in me, but at the same time it’s also really still and silent and peaceful, you know?” He’s starting to ramble uncontrollably, he knows, but how can he even begin to describe all the light Jungkook brings him? How do people even propose? Oh God, he is proposing.

“I just,” he continues hastily, “want to give everything to make you feel like that too. Make you happy and make you feel safe and hold you forever, until I croak in eighty years with a terrible joke on my lips.”

He exhales a shaky breath and sees tears starting to gather in Jungkook’s eyes. He brings a thumb to his cheek to catch one of them.

“What do you say?” He glances at Jungkook nervously. “It’s okay to say no, by the way. Now I feel like I’ve sprung this on you, totally out of the blue and-“

“You idiot,” Jungkook interrupts with a whisper, “it’s not out of the blue.” He blinks the tears away with a sniffle. “You’re the other half of my soul, remember? Of course I will marry you.”

A wave of tingling warmth crashes down on Seokjin. He feels like he could punch a hole in the wall or run a marathon or just burst into a million particles.

“Yeah?” He asks and takes Jungkook’s face in both his hands, bringing him down to cover it with kisses, along his cheekbone, on his forehead, his jaw and his nose.

“I don’t have a ring, sorry, I came really unprepared.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, his face now squished between Seokjin’s hands. “I don’t mind because now we will definitely be the most lovey-dovey couple at the bachelor party, and I cannot wait to see Jimin-hyung’s face when I tell him.”

“Jungkook-ah, we are not going to make our marriage a competition with Jimin and Yoongi’s.” He feels almost dizzy with anticipation when he says it - marriage

“Or will we?” Jungkook asks with a theatrical wink once Seokjin has freed is face again.

“I’m marrying a competitive idiot, this should be fun.” The attempt to sound exacerbated fails miserably, Seokjin’s giddy voice and wide grin betraying him. He never felt as whole as he does now.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” Jungkook murmurs, finding Seokjin’s lips once again.

Seokjin swears to himself to etch this moment into his mind forever, the hard body on top of him, the soft lips gliding against him, the morning light across them and a galaxy blooming in his chest.

Then, he grabs Jungkook’s waist, flips them over, and kisses his fiancé into the mattress.