Is that a question or an order? Yoongi
There was a moment in the concert as he'd walked along the stage, waving to people. I know his eyes held mine for a little longer than I would've expected as they ran over the crowd, the mask making them the only thing visible of my face. However as he circled back, this was re-enforced as I was sure he glanced my way again. It caused a little flutter in my stomach and had made the concert even more of a beautiful moment.
Now, as I stood in line for a VIP photo, I was fidgeting, nervous for the few minutes I'd have with them. It looked like each person had 3 or 4 minutes which was just enough time to hand them a pen and item so each member could quickly sign after snapping a few photos.
When it was my turn, my heartbeat accelerated as staff guided me into the centre of the group, reminding me not to touch them and to leave my mask on as they all said hello with a bow and politely made way for me to stand in the middle of their huddle. After snapping a few photos, I turned to see who I could hand my album to first. Namjoon took the pen and album from me with a smile before passing it to the others. Yoongi had been watching and when I turned his way, he spoke.
"I saw you in the concert yesterday, your eyes are very pretty. You were wearing white."
"Yes, I was and thank you," I replied, blushing a little." The fact that he knew what I was wearing meant the moment had been real and not just something I'd imagined, he had seen me. The album was passed back my way and I put it in front of him where he scribbled his signature on it, looking at me sideways as it went to the last few members.
"I'm trying to work out if I've seen you before but I think I'd remember you if I had," he said.
"I'm trying to work out what scent you're wearing and it was the first time," I replied.
"Trade secret. The last time one of us revealed what we used, it sold out everywhere and we couldn't get it anymore. Nice to meet you for the first time."
"I know I have to finish but I just wanted to say thank you for...," when a staff gently guided me away, handing me back my signed album.
I looked back and he was watching me, Hobi laughing as he gave him a shove to refocus. I hadn't gotten out what I wanted to thank him for in such a small amount of time but it was OK, I'd remember that moment forever anyway and treasure the brief conversation I'd had.
The next day
The coffee shop was one I frequented as it was close to work and quiet enough at the times that I liked to go which meant I could usually get a table for a few hours. My laptop was set up and I had been writing for an hour, the hot chocolate I first ordered when I arrived, long since drunk.
As I stretched, thinking I should order another, a drink was put on the table and I looked at the server in surprise. "I'm sorry, I was actually about to order one, I know I've been sitting here for a while."
"That's OK and now you don't have to."
"Ah, thank you?"
"You don't need to thank me, it came from him," she said as she walked away, pointing to a table a few away from mine. As I locked eyes with Yoongi, he put his hand up briefly in greeting and I stared back before quickly pointing to the drink and mouthing thank you, feeling bewildered.
"I thought it was you but without a mask this time," he said as he came over. "Can I sit," he asked, pulling out a chair as I nodded.
"How did you know it was hot chocolate?" I asked, unsure what to say to him as he sat down, more than surprised that he remembered who I was.
"Your lip," and I reached up wiping away a small amount of froth with my thumb, feeling my cheeks tint a little with embarrassment.
"What are you doing," he asked, pointing at my laptop which I quickly pulled the screen down on. "I've been watching you and you seem very focused."
"I'm writing," I answered stumbling over my words. To think, I'd been sitting there unaware of him only metres away from me. Make a full sentence, I reprimanded myself in my head. "I'm halfway through the second book in a series I'm writing."
"Has the first one been published? I'd read it," he said.
"I haven't even told you what it's about yet."
"Doesn't matter."
"You can't." And there I was, back to short sentences again, sounding prickly. "It's complicated."
"Can I look it up online?" he asked, reaching for his phone.
"It's not published yet, it won't be until the trilogy is complete."
"Is that a publishing company decision?"
"No, that comes from me."
"So you have a book, you're halfway through another and I'm guessing you have the third one in your head?" I nodded. "So, why not look at getting the first one published?"
"Because I have to finish them first."
"I don't understand."
Sighing, I looked away when I answered. "I don't finish things so I need to prove them wrong."
"Who?" Now it was Yoongi with the short sentences.
"My family, everyone. All they think of me is that I give up or don't finish things so I need to finish all three to show them they're wrong. And I won't tell them I wrote some books until they're accepted for a book deal, that way I won't disappoint them again."
He looked like he was having trouble following and for some reason, in the middle of a coffee shop, I was telling him my life story.
"I had to go to university. Even though I knew I didn't want to get a degree that meant nothing to me, I just wanted to write. But no-one took that seriously. So after two horrible years, I pulled out and didn't finish my degree. They weren't very happy about it and I see the disappointment on their faces that I didn't finish. All I wanted to do back then was write and it took years to come back to it."
"Why did you start again?"
"Because of you."
His eyes grew large and he tilted his head to the side as I continued.
"When I heard First Love, I had to pick up a pen again. Although, now it's a laptop," I said with a small smile. "You reminded me about following what made me passionate, gamsahabnida." I'd always wanted to tell him that and I'd tried at the fan meet so it was unbelievable that I was sitting here doing it now. And that I'd told him more of my history than I'd told pretty much anyone else.
"Thank you for telling me that."
"Thank you for the hot chocolate."
"I still want to read the book."
"Get in line and I'll autograph you one when it comes out," I answered with a grin.
"I don't know your name yet?"
"You've not asked. It's Marley."
"Well Marley, I think it's very brave to start again and do something you love."
"Thank you, at the moment it feels scary and raw and I don't know why I'm telling you all this," I said, looking away.
"I can tell you something about me in return?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in a question.
"Of course, if you want to, I'd love to hear more about you."
Leaning forward briefly so only I could hear, he lowered his voice, tone smooth as he said, "earlier when you said you pulled out of university and didn't finish your degree? You should know I don't pull out and I always finish."
The hot chocolate I'd been drinking as he spoke spluttered slightly and I coughed, grabbing a drink of water from my bottle to ease the burn. He had a very neutral look on his face, his eye contact direct as he blinked at me, in stark contrast to what I'd normally seen of him online.
"And I want to know that why?" I asked, as I swallowed more water. The vibe between us had definitely changed.
"It's important information for later today. Or now if you'd prefer," he answered, raising both eyebrows, the rest of his face fairly expressionless.
"I'll keep that in mind while I'm drinking my hot chocolate," I replied, willing my cheeks to not go pink again.
"I like the taste of hot chocolate but my bet is not all of you tastes that way."
The blush was back. "You'll never know, will you."
"Don't be too sure about that."
"That only thing I'm sure about right now is that Min Yoongi is keeping me from my work," I answered.
"Well, we can't have that as I want to read these books at some stage."
"I'll be sure to dedicate one of them to you for inspiring me."
"The next time I perform First Love, I'll be thinking of you Marley. It honestly means a lot that you told me that," his face serious this time.
"If we're being honest then, I'm often thinking about you," I said out loud because somehow, sitting there talking to him felt comfortable and the connection between my brain and my mouth had become unfiltered.
"Come back to my room," he replied, very quietly.
"Is that a question or an order?"
"That is whatever works," he said, staring at me until I looked away again.
"You're used to people doing what you say, aren't you?" I asked, aware we were playing a game.
"These days, yes. In case you haven't noticed, I'm famous," he answered with a smirk.
"Well, maybe I'm busy," I hit back with, feeling the game just got more dangerous, knowing I wanted to go with him but not this way.
"Your tongue is quick," he said, leaning back into my personal space.
"So is yours." I was meaning when he rapped but also so much more.
The air heated around us instantly, heavy with pheromones.
"OK, well I'm leaving so you can either come with me now or come later, I'm not sure there's a third option," and he stood up, taking my pen. As he scribbled onto the page I'd been making notes on, I looked at his hands, fingers designed for playing the piano, long and dangerous. He dropped the pen back onto the table. "I'm ordering in dinner so I'm there for the rest of the day. And night. See you soon," and he walked off, security hemming him in as he stepped onto the pavement.
The paper had the name of a hotel that was only a few minutes walk away, a room number and a cellphone number and I stared without blinking for a few minutes. It was a little much to process, that he'd remembered me and that I had an invitation to spend time with him. I think he'd made it perfectly clear with his tone what that meant. But did I like the cockiness?
I decided I didn't think I did so picked up my cellphone to reply wondering if it was his number or if it went via some kind of manager or staff.
Marley – Enjoy your evening, I'm taking the 3rd option
Yoongi – I will when you get here, there is no 3rd option
Marley – Unfortunately I find myself busy tonight
Yoongi - Cancel your plans
Marley – My plans are fixed
Yoongi – Change them
Marley – Not all of us can be flexible with what we need to do
Yoongi – I want to see how flexible you can be
Everything in me heated up and I put my phone face down on the table, running my hands through my hair, having another drink of water to calm the way my heart was beating. This was Yoongi, the one I'd thought about while starting the first chapter of my first book. The one who recognised me at the photo session and ordered me a hot chocolate. He was chasing me to come to him but I didn't expect how direct he was being and I didn't know when the game would be over. Suga always appeared quiet when the group were together and you could tell he was a deep thinker who cared for his members beyond anyone else. And now he was asking me to come to his room for, well, that was the question wasn't it? Because his intentions seemed obvious but I could easily have misinterpreted.
Marley – I might have a spare 10 minutes
Yoongi – That won't be long enough
Marley – Half an hour?
Yoongi – Better but I like to take my time so more like the rest of the day
Marley – Take your time with what?
As I sent the last text off, I wasn't sure I wanted to see the response, swallowing down a gulp as I read it.
Yoongi – With my hands and my mouth...
Marley – Ah, the piano and singing, got it
Yoongi – That smart mouth of yours could be put to better use
Marley – Well, you can teach me to sing if you want?
Yoongi – I can teach you all sorts of things, when you come. Which you will do. More than once.
OK, so the intentions were now laid out on a silver platter for me, no misinterpretations and I pressed my hands to my cheeks where they flamed. I decided not to reply, attempting to write again for the next 25 minutes before giving up and packing away my things, decision made. Had there really been a choice?
When I knocked on the door, I didn't know what to expect. Part of me thought he'd be dressed in a robe, ready to go with a smirk on his face. But he was wearing loose fitting, relaxed clothes and just smiled a little when he opened the door, standing back to let me in.
"I ordered for two," he said, pointing at the food he was part way through eating.
"Oh, if you're expecting someone, I can go," I replied, putting my things down on the floor.
"Funny. But I've told everyone we're busy for the rest of the night."
"Yes, busy with the singing lessons," I said, sitting in the matching chair to where he was sitting.
"Help yourself and although I can guarantee you'll be making noises, I don't know how tuneful they'll be. Although, we're meant to wait an hour after eating before exercising," he said, his tongue out slightly between his lips and an intense look in his eyes.
"Ah, that's a shame, I do only have half an hour so maybe I should just go..."
He looked up to see if I was serious, a genuine full gummy smile appearing on his face when I wiggled my eyebrows at him with a smirk.
"So, what should I call you? Yoongi, Suga, Agust D, Yoongles?" I asked.
"Whatever you like, just never Yoongles, Jimin is the only one who calls me that and it's just to annoy me."
"OK then, lil meow meow, I'll remember that."
His eyes rolled at the sound of one of the ARMY nicknames. "Cats are cute!" he said, defensively.
"They're very cute, as are you," I said, feeling like I could flirt a little, feeling like the line I was walking was very thin.
"I'm not cute. I'm dangerous," he said, glowering at me.
"Mmmhhmmmm," I answered, not convinced as I popped some meat in my mouth.
"I can be dangerous if I want to be," he repeated, a little less seriously.
"I think you're more dangerous over text than in person," I answered.
"We'll soon see if that's the truth. Lets finish eating and talk and then, see what happens. My plan was to get you in my room and then that was as far as I'd gotten."
"It's always good to have a plan. And I don't think that's as far as you'd gotten."
"It was great to have a plan in this case and you're right, my mind is definitely thinking ahead."
"To what exactly?" I asked, playing the game a little longer.
"To us in bed or on the bed or wherever the evening takes us actually," he said, swallowing as he finished talking and I had a feeling there was more bravado behind his words than truth.
"Do you bring many fans back to your room to get them into bed?"
"Are you a fan then?"
"Well, I'm obviously ARMY as I was at the concert and got photos with you. You're avoiding the question."
"We did in the early days, it's too dangerous for that now. Too many risks."
"Why am I here then?"
"I saw your eyes and remembered them and then I found you interesting."
"Interesting enough to take risks?"
"Enough to want to see what would happen when I had you alone," he replied, reaching for a drink.
"If the only reason I'm here is to get onto my knees for you, then I'm leaving."
"While that delightful image is now very firmly in my mind, no, that's not why you're here."
I looked at him in his oversized clothes. His hair was a soft brown at the moment, skin pale and almost luminous and his eyes were incredibly pretty. In that moment they didn't look intense like they had earlier, they looked gentle.
"Then why did you invite me?"
"Would it be a surprise that I was lonely for company?"
"No, that I can understand from how you have to hide out from the world a lot of the time. What is a surprise is that it's me sitting here."
"I wanted some conversation and your story earlier told me there was depth to you. I liked that you say what you want."
"Say what you want, say what you want," I sung automatically, then put my hand up to my mouth when I realised who I was singing it in front of.
"Oh, you have a nice voice, I don't think we need to worry about how tuneful you will be later," he said, not phased even though I was very embarrassed.
"Thank you, that just slipped out. Ignore me, please, I'm a shambles," cheeks tinting red from singing and his comments.
"It happens a lot, people losing their train of thought around us. Do you have a favourite of our songs then?"
"It changes depending on my mood but there is one that always makes me feel a lot."
"Pied Piper?" he laughed.
"Ha ha ha, well yes but Bulletproof the Eternal. It physically hurts to think of what you all went through on your way to where you are now and if ARMY helped ease that a little, I'm glad I could be a part of it. When I hear it, my heart actually squeezes for a moment and my eyes always fill with tears. That's well written music to make me feel all of that."
He was the one who looked embarrassed now, looking down at his plate with a tiny smile. "I think I've heard enough, we should talk about you. Everyone is always talking about us."
"I'm honestly not that interesting. Tell me about songs you're working on at the moment."
"I thought I was the one giving the orders?" he asked.
"Why would you think that?"
"You came here when I told you to."
"No, I came here because I wanted to, not because you told me to. In fact, that was a turn off and I almost didn't. I don't do guys telling me what to do. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't have come, no matter how much you told me to."
"So you don't do guys telling you what to do, even in bed?"
"Are you feeling a little bit tired Yoongi?" I said, ignoring the question, running my teeth over my bottom lip. "You seem to be focused on bed."
"I'm focused on you and definitely not tired." He put his chopsticks down, dabbed his mouth with a napkin and reached for my hand. He rested it on top of where mine lay, his fingers fitting into the slots left between mine, his hand engulfing my hand. It felt surprisingly cool, very soft and sent a tingle up my spine that caused me to avoid his eyes.
I wasn't sure where to look because this felt incredibly sweet and that was a very different feeling to when he had invited me here and to what he'd been hinting at. When I felt a gentle pressure, I took a breath and looked up to where he was looking at me with a small smile.
"This is the quietest you've been since we met," he said, lifting my hand off the table to sandwich it between both of his.
"I don't know what I'm thinking at the moment," I answered, eyes unable to hold his for long without darting away.
"Do you want to hear what I'm thinking?"
"Do I?"
"I'm thinking I invited you up here to get you out of your clothes and I don't want that anymore."
I went to pull my hand away but he held tight, inching closer in his seat. "I mean, I do, I definitely do, I really do. But that's not the only reason. I like this, talking."
I relaxed back after being about to flee. "You almost struck out then."
"That's a sports term right? I only play basketball."
"I don't play sports at all apart from a little cricket when I was younger."
"Cricket? You are full of surprises."
"You have no idea," I answered, batting my eyelashes at him and his tongue came out between his teeth to rest on his lips, intensity in his eyes. "Your face is dangerous and you do some kind of exercise, I can tell. Your body is strong."
"I run sometimes, that's about it," I answered feeling flustered by the way his facial expressions were constantly changing.
"Let me have a closer look," he said, standing up and tugging me up gently from my seat. Spinning me lightly on the spot, he raked his eyes up and down my body and I wanted to adjust my clothing, feeling incredibly self conscious.
I'd always imagined him being short as he was one of the shortest in the band but he still stood above me, even when he was in bare feet and I was not. "I think you should take your shoes off," he said, looking down at them.
"Just my shoes?" I asked, breathing a little unsteady.
"For now," he answered as I reached down, pulling off my Converse and socks, dropping them under the table. His eyes followed every movement I made and I felt a little under the microscope.
"You're making me nervous," I said softly.
"That's good for me, maybe you'll follow orders better that way."
I stared at him, preparing to start another argument but noticed the twitching of a smile at the corner of his mouth and just tapped his arm instead in annoyance, startled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me so I was just inches from him.
His hands moved to sit on my hips, the long fingers I'd noticed earlier curling on either side of my waist as they slipped under my top, lightly stroking the skin just above my jeans. "I'm going to kiss you now," he said and I swallowed, chest rising and falling quickly at how forceful and articulate he sounded as he said it.
Lips pressed to mine and the first sensation I had once the shock subsided was how smoothly they flowed over the shape of my mouth. Gentle at first but firm, my mouth dropped open a little and his tongue traced along the edge of my bottom lip as he pulled me flush against himself and my arms came up automatically to drape around his neck as the kisses deepened.
Breaking for air he asked a question with his eyes as his hands moved to the top button of my jeans and I answered so he'd hear I'd given my answer, even though it came out a little breathless. "Yes Yoongi, it's OK."
His mouth searched for mine again as the buttons were undone one after another, painfully slowly, his fingers stroking the skin that appeared as the buttons popped and for a moment I tried to remember how to breathe. His hands came round to my lower back and eased my jeans down a little as he hands cupped my backside. Stopping for a moment, he leaned into my ear. "I did not expect these," he said, running his hands over my underwear.
"I always wear booty shorts, they're super comfortable. And, it's not like when I got dressed this morning, I thought any of this would be happening otherwise I might have put on something cute and lacy."
"No, these are better, they hug you in just the right places."
"You can't even see," I replied as his mouth came to my neck and I gasped a little as his tongue ran along the edge of my jaw.
"My hands can tell," he answered, muffled against my throat as he stroked down my butt to the top of my thighs and back up again.
I broke contact for a moment to ease my jeans the rest of the way off, kicking them to the side then touched the top of his trackpants, a hiss falling from his mouth as I grazed the front of them on the way past. "I'd say sorry, but I'm not," I said, tucking my thumbs into the waistband.
"I'm not sorry either," he replied, his hands capturing my face as he kissed me again, mouth invading mine with heat and moisture, teeth clashing a little as everything intensified. I lightly pinched the skin on his hips as I peeled his trackpants over and down his legs, my face close to his crotch, breath on the junction of his thighs as I helped take them off. His reaction was instant as he reached down to adjust his boxers, unapologetic at the bulge pressing between us.
Stripped to tshirts and underwear, he led me to the bed, tugging me so we fell against it and I smiled as we ended up facing each other, kisses firing up again. His mouth knew the right places to make me hum and he was putting it to good use.
"Yoongi," I said quietly and I felt a hummmmm against my neck in acknowledgement. "Are we going to need a safe word?"
"What kind of crazy stuff do you think I get up to?" he asked, pulling away momentarily, slight amusement in his eyes before he went back to what he was doing, the movements of his mouth against my skin very distracting.
"Well, I didn't know, you are more experienced than me I'm sure."
"I am a lot more vanilla than you think," he said, voice low as he sat up against the head of the bed and pulled me so I was facing him, sitting on top of his thighs.
"Vanilla is good, it adds something when you're baking."
"Are we going to talk about food right now?" he asked, smirking.
"Absolutely not," I answered, leaning in to reconnect our lips.
As he ran his hands across my back and up under my top again he started to pull on it and we both leaned away, taking our tops quickly off ourselves before crashing bodies and mouths back together. My eyes were fluttering closed more regularly, the intensity of his face being so close to mine too much to make eye contact for long. Head dipping to the top of my bra, he tugged on it with his teeth, kissing where my breasts touched before reaching behind me to unhook the clasps, releasing them into his waiting mouth. Gasping as his tongue tasted and mouth traced my skin, my hands came up to caress the nape of his neck before twisting into his hair and I heard some noises falling from his mouth that I wanted to record and play over and over.
Rolling me over so I was laid out under him, he worked on removing all the rest of our clothes as our skin became slick from heat brewing between us and I needed to kiss him, had to have his mouth on mine again. I was feeling a little desperate as his hands travelled down my body, stroking gently and making me gasp and arch my back against him.
As he settled between my legs, he spoke again, the words coming out gruff and strained. "Look at me Marley," and I flicked my eyes up to his, fighting to hold them steady in his as he eased into me, slowly and carefully, checking for my reaction as his breathing became unsteady. I had to close my eyes and couldn't stop the noises from escaping my lips as he began to move, mouths trying to join unsuccessfully and I arched to meet his movements, the friction between us building as mouths and hips moved together. He moved my hands above my head, my body elongating under his as he did.
"You're so sexy," he huffed out between thrusts and I could hear the moment when we were both close, words becoming incoherent, primal sounds filling the room, he was holding himself back.
"Come for me Marley," he whispered, low and breathless in my ear and even though I didn't take orders, even though I knew it would make him smirk and even when I tried to hold back, I couldn't stop it from building and overtaking me. His words sent me over the edge, triggering sensations that erupted in my core, spreading through to my toes, as they curled against the bedding. He followed a few moments later, a strangled, carnal groan slipping from his mouth, eyes closing as his body shuddered a few times before slowing above me and he fell forward to rest, propped up on his elbows.
We rolled together onto our sides and when I could finally open my eyes and look at him, there wasn't a smirk in sight. In fact, he was trailing his hand up and down my back, fingers slightly slick with the perspiration we'd created before reaching to press a kiss to my shoulder.
"Sometimes giving orders works out perfectly for everyone," he said, raising an eyebrow and I buried my face in his chest, hoping the heat of the encounter covered the new heat brewing in my face. "Are you OK?"
"I am very OK, thank you," I answered, my breathing still a little disconnected.
"Did you just thank me for sex?"
"No, I thanked you for asking if I was OK. For the sex you get this," and I reached my lips up to take his in mine, already wanting to feel their softness and taste again.
"Shower?" he asked, when we finally pulled our mouths from each other, both wearing a shy smile on our faces.
"Is that a question or an order?" I asked, pursing my lips to hold back a laugh
"Definitely an order," he replied, pulling me off the bed, onto my feet and into his arms.