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Ocean on the Floor

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Yoongi’s a bit of a nightowl.



He comes back to the dorm at 3am, bumping into the desk that he haphazardly shoved into a corner on his side of the room. Stumbling over books that are all over the floor, he mutters a myriad of expletives before Taehyung flicks the light switch.

Taehyung is astounded someone so young can look so old.

“Where the fuck were you?” he asks.

It’s not that he’s concerned about where Yoongi has been. He is.

It’s not that Taehyung really cared about the wellbeing of his roommate that kind of disappeared most nights. He did.

It’s not that Taehyung was awake the entire time, and just had the light off to pretend he was sleeping. He was.

In all honesty, it had only been a couple of years since they were roommates. Taehyung moved into the city, and Yoongi had been living with another person until they up and vanished. Luckily Taehyung came along at the time he did. He fit right into the little dorm room.

Yoongi shrugs. His shoulders feel heavy, his eyes have sunk and there are hard lines making their way across what used to be soft, smooth skin. He’s tired, so tired. Yoongi spends his nights working, studying, scrambling up for air from the drowning waters of college life.

He wasn’t going to tell Taehyung how much struggled, though.

Peeling off the jacket he had been wearing, Yoongi drops it to the floor and falls onto his bed, shoes still on. His head is facing away from his roommate, and there’s a frown that’s made its way across Taehyung’s face. It’s so deep you could probably plant potatoes in it.

A few seconds pass and Taehyung flicks the switch, the room going dark.

The space between them is so close yet so far, and when Taehyung finally hears Yoongi’s breathing grow deep and slow, it’s only then that he shifts back into his bed, rolling over and trying to get some sleep.




Taehyung is in the shower, water hot and almost scalding as it hits his back. He’s staring hard at the tiled wall, hands on his hips and he recalls that if he passes the exam today, he’s one step closer to that dream he realised on the kitchen floor when he was ten years old.

He takes a deep breath.

He begins to sing. Softly at first.

Then his voice rises.

He sings harder.

Continuing until he tries to hit that note that would either make or break him at 1pm in room T33.

Taehyung hits it. Holds it. Wraps his fingers around it and destroys it.

The water is still hot, and Taehyung can’t stop smiling. He could do this. How was he going to celebrate later? Buy a pizza with Yoongi, maybe.

He starts to laugh, and he laughs harder when he hears the rap of knuckles against the bathroom door.


“How much longer are you gonna be?? I’ve got class soon!”

Taehyung turns, reaching for his body wash, lathering up his body with a smile as Yoongi continues to knock on the door, impatient.




When Taehyung isn’t around, Yoongi lays on his bed. It’s a secret that he would take to his grave. He’s memorized Taehyung’s classes, and when Taehyung is away, Yoongi is on a two-hour break.

His face is buried in Taehyung’s pillow.

Inhaling slowly, there’s a small smile that spreads across his lips. Taehyung smells like safety.

Like home.

Of course, it would only be a matter of time until he was caught. That time came quicker than he thought, too. Yoongi had been reading one of his music theory textbooks (surprisingly), with half his face hidden in the pillow and as soon as he had put his book down, Taehyung happened to be standing right there.

“Oh, oh shit. It’s not—” Yoongi scrambles up in an embarrassed rush, but Taehyung puts his hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

There’s a smile on Taehyung’s face. Why was there a smile on Taehyung’s face?

“Don’t worry about it.”

That’s the first time they kiss.




It’s midnight.

Yoongi is staring at Taehyung’s bed. There’s an ocean between them, of books and sheet music and clothes but Yoongi is too scared to cross.

He’s afraid Taehyung will let him drown.

“Yoongi.” The voice is quiet, hidden beneath an array of sheets.

Yoongi’s eyes widen and he whispers back. “What?”

“Come here. Sleep with me.”

Yoongi jumps into the ocean and he can’t stop smiling when Taehyung pulls him out from the other side. He huddles close, limbs entangling under the sheets on a bed that’s too small for the both of them.

Breathing in deep, he let’s Taehyung’s scent fill his lungs.



He wasn’t going to say it out loud. How much he needed Taehyung after all this time. Escaping the dorm at crazy hours in the night didn’t make so much sense anymore, not when Taehyung was here.

Not when Taehyung could be his escape instead.




Taehyung can hear Yoongi’s voice from down the hall. His voice had become so familiar that when Yoongi walks into the room half-singing, half-rapping, Taehyung follows the flow with ease. His laugh is bright when Yoongi blushes, and Taehyung continues to sing. Serenading the boy whose dreams were just as big as his own.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi begins. “Stop that.” He puts his books down, walking over and sprawling himself over Taehyung’s lap.

Taehyung grins and Yoongi reaches up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s soft hair. It had become unruly. It was getting longer and longer, and there were little tufts of hair on the nape of Taehyung’s neck that Yoongi would play with all the time.

Taehyung stops singing, and they share a moment of blissful silence.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Taehyung held the world in his hands that night.





Sometimes, there would be a steady beat that would echo through the room. It would speed up, and slow down.

The light of the moon shines through their window.

The alarm clock by Yoongi’s bed says 2am.

“Oh god. Oh god.

Yoongi’s unable to say anything else. Taehyung silences him with a kiss.

The beat quickens like the banging of drums before the war.


And afterwards, it’s eerily silent. They’re not huddled together under the sheets. Their chests rise and fall in unison, their hearts beating loud against the cages of their chests. Taehyung doesn’t want to let Yoongi go, and Yoongi had no desire to leave in the first place.


When the sun comes up the next morning there’s a little impression on the wall left from Taehyung’s bedframe.




Taehyung comes to the dorm room one night smelling like someone else.

Yoongi doesn’t mention it, doesn’t want to talk about it, but when they sleep together that night, Yoongi can’t get the rest he needs. His eyes are wide, and while Taehyung is facing the wall, Jonghyun faces the ocean floor, and he wants to drown.

The night after, Taehyung doesn’t come back to the room at all.

Yoongi finds himself laying in Taehyung’s bed while he’s gone, but it’s not the same. Not anymore. And suddenly Yoongi becomes homesick. Turning his head into the pillow he sighs, and it becomes worse.

It’s someone else. Who could it be?


Yoongi’s alarm goes off the following morning, and he finds himself on the ocean floor.




Taehyung is never around anymore. When he is, he only comes to get clothes and even then there’s no singing along, no more serenading. No more kisses goodbye, goodnight, good morning.

There’s something breaking inside Yoongi.

He doesn’t know what it is.

So he studies hard. He sings and raps as much as he can. His hands hurt from writing so much, his eyes from looking at computer screens and mixers all day and if anyone asked about his grades? Well, they never looked better. But if anyone asked about his heart?

Don’t ask about his heart.

Taehyung comes back one day and Yoongi’s voice is a hoarse.

“Where have you been?”

Taehyung smiles in his direction, but it’s not the same.

“Group assessment, I’ve got this new partner and we’re testing out the harmonies for this song we’re doing.”

He’s gone before Yoongi can say anything.




Taehyung has never matched with anyone so well before. Jungkook knows what he wants before he says it, and they fit like pieces of the same puzzle. Before he knows it, they finish practicing and Taehyung’s arms are around Jungkook’s waist.

They kiss, they kiss and oh do they kiss.

Something inside Taehyung stirs. It’s unsettling, a small subtle annoyance in the back of his mind.

It doesn’t stop him, though.

Taehyung takes off his clothes. He takes off Jungkook's.

They fall onto the bed, and the annoyance fades for a while.

Jungkook moans, and Taehyung laughs low and husky and full of unwarranted desire that he’s never felt—


Before Yoongi. Yoongi.


Taehyung leaves Jungkook’s room in a rush. He’s apologizing, scrambling to get his clothes from the floor to put them on and Jungkook is asking questions that Taehyung doesn’t know the answer to.

He’s out of the room in seconds. When he reaches his own room, his hand is on the doorknob, unable to turn because he can hear something on the other side. Was that…sobbing?

It rocks Taehyung to his core. And he can’t do this anymore. He can’t.

He can’t turn the knob. The sobbing is like a ringing in his head and Taehyung can’t turn it off.

Somehow, Taehyung finds himself back in Jungkook’s bed that night.


Oh Yoongi.




Yoongi hasn’t left the room in days. For the sake of it, and because Taehyung is hardly back anyways, he sleeps in his roommate’s bed. Clinging to memories that are slowly fading.

Roommate. Lover.

After a while he learns to stop crying. It’s sad, he’s sad. It’s almost embarrassing, but he finds himself every now and again running his fingers along the impressions on the wall. Those grades he’s improved to distract himself? They start to fall. Yoongi starts to not care as much anymore.

He hardly eats. He no longer wants to work on his music. Incomplete sheet music piling up on his desk. Everything starts to become a little bleaker, a little blacker and whiter.

Yoongi is thinking about going out again in the dead of night. Old habits die hard, after all.

And then, one day (Yoongi can’t distinguish the days anymore) he wakes up to Taehyung standing by the bed.

“Oh fuck off,” he mutters in his half-asleep annoyance, pulling the covers upward and rolling over to face away from Taehyung.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Taehyung says.

That voice, how long had it been?

“Fuck off,” Yoongi can hear himself start to bed. “Don’t you have someone else now?”

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek. This happened because of him. Yoongi became like this because of him. There’s guilt and shame and a million other feelings that he can’t name.

“I don’t.”

Yoongi’s resolve falters. Is Taehyung telling him things he wants to hear? Is Yoongi so weak that two words can forgive all the shit he’s been through for the past however many weeks, months?

He pulls down the covers slightly. Turns his head to meet Taehyung’s eyes with his own tired ones.

“Okay, do you want a medal? Why are you here then? Hardly any of your shit is here anyway.”

Taehyung moves to sit on the bed. He’s gentle about it, careful not to startle Yoongi too much and he pulls the covers down a little more, reaching over to run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair.

Oh Yoongi, what have I done to you.

Yoongi wants to recoil from the touch. He’s weak, he wants to show resolve. He doesn’t need Taehyung.

But he does.

As soon as Taehyung’s fingers are in his hair, Yoongi leans into the touch and he almost hates himself for breaking so easily.

“I wanted to apologize.” Taehyung speaks after what feels like millions of years of silence.

“Uh huh. What for?” They both knew what for.


Yoongi hesitates. “….It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

Yoongi keeps his mouth shut. Taehyung is still running his fingers through his hair, smoothing it over in places and lightly scratching some parts and God, he missed Taehyung so much that he can’t resist.

“Look. Yoongi it doesn’t matter if you don’t accept my apology. I don’t expect you to. I just wanted to tell you something.”

Yoongi purses his lips, his brows furrowing just a little. “Alright, out with it.”

“I love you.”




Days pass and they don’t talk. Yoongi spends his time on his side of the room, studying, eating, procrastinating.

Taehyung sits on his bed, watching.

Yoongi never replied after Taehyung said that he loved him. All Yoongi did was sit up, and move back to his own bed.

And since then, it’s been quiet.

Yoongi didn’t speak to Taehyung ever since.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung speaks, swallowing thickly, fingernails digging into his palms.

All Taehyung hears is silence.




Yoongi struggles with himself. He’s in the shower, the water running cold and he isn’t sure if Taehyung was telling him the truth, or just telling him what he wanted to hear.

Was it normal to hurt the ones you love?

This didn’t happen over the course of a week. It had been weeks or maybe more. Taehyung was hardly around and when he was, he talked as if nothing happened, saying I love you out of all things.

When Yoongi leaves the bathroom, Taehyung is sitting at his desk. Headphones on and engrossed in whatever what was on his laptop. Yoongi is still in the doorway of the bathroom and he thinks: Maybe this was all supposed to happen.

In some fucked up way.

Yoongi clears his throat, as if that would get Taehyung’s attention. He’s wearing headphones, idiot.

He waves his hand to get Taehyung’s attention.

“Hm?” Taehyung pulls his headphones off after seeing Yoongi move his hands, and he looks at the other. Yoongi can see this hope in Taehyung’s eyes that makes his heart clench.

Yoongi’s hair is still wet from the shower, the shirt he’s wearing a size too big for his small frame.

“…Come here.”

Taehyung obeys. He walks up to Yoongi, and when he’s close all Yoongi can do is wrap his arms around Taehyung, breathing in deep and fuck, there it is.

He’s no longer homesick.




Three months pass.


Yoongi’s wearing a necklace. It’s simple, silver and a ring rests on the chain. Every time he sits in class, or even in the recording studio he finds himself playing with the ring. Whenever he does, there’s a little bit of a blush on his cheeks.

He can never forget that day.

“I got you something,” Taehyung comes in one day holding a small black bag and Yoongi can’t help but raise his brows in mock interest.

“You didn’t get something weird again from the corner store, did you? You know how much stuff you’ve gotten that you never use?” 

Taehyung makes a face. He’s wounded, he uses some things. “No, something else.”


Later that night Taehyung gives Yoongi a ring. It’s silver, it’s simple and there’s a single diamond on it. Taehyung doesn’t say a word, and neither does Yoongi.

Of course, the ring was just a little big, so Yoongi has it on the chain.



The impressions on the wall are just a little bit deeper, now.