In the early years, when they were just starting to understand each other, hesitant and careful, Seokjin used to come up with excuses to do this. Something mundane and reasonable. Something not obvious. He has a bad habit of pretending to be aloof with what he cares the most about, and from the very beginning, he cared about Yoongi. He cared a lot more than he knew how to express.
Over the years, after the initial cautiousness waned and faded, after they passed their trials of struggling to be vulnerable and honest, Seokjin stops pretending, stops making up excuses that Yoongi won't believe anyway.
He doesn't need the guise of bringing Yoongi a meal, or that he was fetching him home to rest. He doesn't need to pretend he was called to the studio for a meeting or that Taehyung was sleeping in his bed again and he couldn't concentrate with the younger in the room.
He misses Yoongi, and so, he goes to find him. No guile, no twenty minutes spent rehearsing his story.
He stops in front of Yoongi's Genius Lab, considering the lock pad and the doorbell for a moment, like he always does. Even after Yoongi gave him the passcode – whispered into his ear, breath hot and sending shivers down his spine with every syllable – Seokjin still sometimes opts for the doorbell. His hovers his finger over the doorbell before making a face and quickly punching the passcode into the lockpad.
He slips into the room, still brightly lit despite the late hour. The door clicks shut behind him, the door chiming to notify the automatic lock. Yoongi has his headphones on, head bobbing to a beat Seokjin can only faintly make out. His hair is hidden under a backwards cap, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his fingers tap-tap-tapping on his desk. Seokjin follows the line from Yoongi's hands to his exposed forearms where Yoongi bunched up his hoodie sleeves around his elbows. He wonders how after all these years, the punch of desire for this man has not only stayed, but strengthened, building and layering, desire and affection a heady mix that Seokjin feels with every inhale.
He slips from the doorway to the small leather couch, watching Yoongi work. He feels a little guilty interrupting him when it looks like he's finally hit some inspiration after days of a block. He settles against the pillows and lets his shoulders relax. For now, this is enough. Being in the same room as Yoongi, it's enough to melt the sharp tang of neediness from his mouth. He's content to watch like this, for a little while.
The late hour must drag at Seokjin, because his eyelids grow heavy and suddenly he's blinking his eyes open, disorientated and groggy. There's a gentle, familiar hand carding through his hair and he makes a noise in the back of his throat, a stifled moan that wavers and breaks as his voice struggles to find its use again.
"What time is it?" he manages to ask, straightening as he shakes sleep from his head.
Yoongi's hand drops from his hair to land on his thigh. "It's just past three."
"Still the morning?" he asks around a yawn.
Yoongi's lips tilt into a smile and he huffs out a little laugh, amused. "Yes, three in the morning." He's sitting on the coffee table, knees knocking against Seokjin's as he shifts a little closer. Seokjin catches a faint whiff of Yoongi's cologne, faded and hazy like a dream, like Seokjin can only catch the hint of it because he knows it's there. "How long have you been here?" Yoongi asks, disrupting Seokjin's thoughts.
"Mm? An hour, I guess," he answers. He leans forward and slides his palm over Yoongi's hand, turning it in his to interlock their fingers. He smiles at their joined hands. He likes the length and strength of Yoongi's hands, likes the way the heavy silver rings slide against his when they hold each other like this.
"You should have let me know," Yoongi says, scolding him mildly, a lover's reprimand that's as familiar as breathing.
Seokjin shrugs and tugs on Yoongi's hand, drawing him closer so he can tip his forehead against Yoongi's. "I missed you," he whispers, smiling.
Yoongi's lips twitch again, in that way he has when he's shy and happy all at once. "I see you every day at dance practice," he retorts, but his tone is soft and nearly wistful.
Seokjin tilts his head and hums in disagreement. "It's different. You can't kiss me in dance practice."
Yoongi chuckles. "I could, and I have, but we promised Hoseok."
"Hmm," Seokjin says, disinterested. He dips his head and softly presses his lips to Yoongi's, his breath catching in his lungs as something akin to relief courses down his spine. Yoongi's lips are thin and cool. It should be awkward, and yet Seokjin knows, he's never kissed anyone like he kisses Yoongi. He's never been kissed like Yoongi kisses him. Thoroughly, artfully, like Seokjin's mouth is a masterpiece and Yoongi is his diligent student. Seokjin would rather die than admit it to Yoongi, but he's already decided he doesn't want to kiss any other lips but Yoongi's for the rest of his life.
Seokjin presses harder into Yoongi's lips, still a chaste press of skin on skin. He makes a small, whiny noise, urging Yoongi into action. He can feel Yoongi's lips stretch wide into a smile and Seokjin would hit him if he didn't know that is his boyfriend's precursor to indulging Seokjin.
Yoongi hand skims lightly under Seokjin's jaw, his fingers hooking behind his ear, elongating, stroking slowly, and there is it. Seokjin lets his eyes close, victory sweet on his lips as Yoongi angles against him, slotting their mouths together, sinking into place like they belong. It's slow and easy, just a dry press of lips. Sweet and nearly innocent if Seokjin could ignore the firm press of Yoongi's knees parting Seokjin's thighs as he shifts forward, laying Seokjin into a half-sitting, half-reclining position on the couch.
Yoongi's free hand comes to land on the back of the couch by Seokjin's head, bracing himself, providing leverage as he lifts to hover over Seokjin. He pulls back minutely, tipping his lips to the corner of Seokjin's mouth, pinpointed to place a lingering kiss there. He moves a fraction further, kissing Seokjin's cheek.
Yoongi pauses, his lips warming against Seokjin's cheek. "Did you shave?" he asks, slightly confused.
"Yeah," Seokjin confirms, turning his head to try to catch Yoongi's lips again.
Yoongi laughs and pulls back, his eyes creasing with a smile. "Why? It's three in the morning."
Seokjin shrugs and wraps his hand in the fabric of Yoongi's hoodie, pulling him completely over his frame, Yoongi's weight a warm and welcome pressure on his limbs. "You always complain that it hurts."
Yoongi smirks and settles comfortably between Seokjin's thighs. "You came over just to make out?"
Seokjin arches a brow. "I thought I made that clear." He doesn't give Yoongi a chance to widen his smirk, fisting his hands in Yoongi's hoodie and pulling hard until Yoongi's lips land on his again. He inhales deeply, eagerly crashing their mouths together, needy and desperate. He missed Yoongi a lot more than he cares to admit.
Yoongi makes a muffled growling noise and slots his hand under Seokjin's jaw, taking control of the kiss, slowing it down. Seokjin suppresses a shiver. He knows what this means, what mood Yoongi is in, slow and attentive and thorough. He lets his hands relax, releasing the soft fabric of Yoongi's hoodie, and trail down to rest lightly at the waist of his jeans.
Yoongi parts his lips over Seokjin's, fitting over Seokjin's upper lip. He sucks for a moment before he turns his head to a new angle. Seokjin follows him, chasing the sweet taste of Yoongi that he's grown dependent on over the years. He shudders out a half-moan when Yoongi's teeth scrape gently on Seokjin's lower lip, tugging it into his mouth.
Seokjin clutches his hand on Yoongi's hip and exhales heavily when Yoongi pulls back for a moment. Yoongi smiles down at him and licks his lips, panting out a breath.
"You're turning red," he teases, a light of amusement in his eyes.
"Shut up and kiss me again," Seokjin complains, but there's an answering smile blooming on his lips.
Yoongi's hand slips down to cradle the back of Seokjin's head and he touches his forehead to Seokjin's. "I missed you too, Jin," he confesses shyly.
Seokjin can feel the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens into a grin, but Yoongi is already dipping down again, pressing slow, measured kisses across the expanse of Seokjin's cheeks to his mouth. He lets his eyes drift closed, breathing in, inhaling Yoongi's scent, and lets himself indulge in this. In kisses, in the quiet moment just past three in the morning, in this love he doesn't seem to ever tire of. He forgets the impossibly late hour, and the knowledge that he will be dozing off all day later, and lets himself indulge in Yoongi.
Because he missed him.