flow like kamasutra

Send G for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.

send K for a HABIT/NERVOUS TIC headcanon.

send M for a RELATIONSHIP headcanon.

Temptation is quiet, crawling into the heart in it's weakest moments-- and the consequences for giving in are always oh so dire. His punishment is sudden, a flying bottle crashing into his apartment-- and he's alone, oh so alone, as fire ignites in the lightless apartment. Ironically, the flames will not respond to his abilities, no matter how hard he tries-- and his only hope is to call for someone outside, the rioters, to help him douse it before it spreads. (Should they care to.)

flames.

that was all yoongi could see, as far as his eyes could go. a panicky feeling clogged up in his throat as he scrambled to avert himself from the fire, bursts of orange and red and oh my god oh my god oh no oh no oh no.

he didn’t even see it coming. one moment, he was sitting on the couch, scribbling lyrics on his downtime. the next moment, there was a crash and the first wave of abrasive colors burned into his arm before he could run.

where was namjoon? where was namjoon? does he know where i am? what’s happening? he couldn’t even remember where he had sent off the younger— he was panicking that much. he reached out with one palm to try and douse the fire away, meeting with nothing. not even a single drop of water spewed from his fingertips. his eyes looked quick enough to see that both his hands were trembling, all of him was trembling, having no control over himself.

he stumbled into a window, sweat beading on his skin, rushing to open it. “fire! there’s— there’s a fire up here, please— i—” he hadn’t panicked this much in a while, not since the day his second ability kicked in and all he could hear was everyone’s voices. but this was different.

yoongi’s surprised to find two apples on his and namjoon’s doorstep the minute he arrived home after a meeting with a client, both with the same note — a gift. he bent over to pick one of them up, rolling it around his hand, staring at its every detail. bright. tempting. food.

the story of snow white eating a poison apple popped into his head without expectation, and if he was with anyone else, he predicted they’d make a joke about his complexion. the very thought just brought irritation into his sense. he’s half-tempted to just chuck the fruit down the hall as if it was nothing, but his stomach growled to protest.

he hadn’t eaten since lunch. and namjoon wasn’t home yet to start preparing dinner.

…

he tore into the flesh of the apple without another thought before unlocking the door with his bracelet, stepping into their living space and heading right for the kitchen. he supposed it was his turn to make dinner.

the sound of his chopsticks unexpectedly hitting the table pained his ear, especially with his lack of earplugs in tow. 

yoongi didn’t look up to meet namjoon’s eyes at first, almost swearing that he was hearing wrong. but he couldn’t have been. he couldn’t make that assumption anymore, even if the question was whispered low under namjoon’s breath. he was afraid to find out what he’d see if he lifted his head. amusement? namjoon’s own fear?

was namjoon serious?

he finally let his eyes flicker up across the dining table, something unpleasant stirring in his stomach. of course he had thought about it— that namjoon had felt yoongi’s exact emotional state before, every feeling, every emotion— but yoongi was never given the opportunity to feel namjoon’s. 

he was afraid to say yes. he was afraid to say no.

so he just stared back at his best friend, expression unreadable, his hands fidgeting under the table. “do you want to show me?” he threw back another question to refute namjoon’s — because it was better than giving a clear answer to something so … intimate. but he knew namjoon hated it when yoongi was being vague, so the elder hesitated before—

“why?”

“what?” yoongi side-eyed taehyun for a good moment until he heard the girl let out an overjoyed laugh from a distance. so he looked over, spotting said boyfriend in sight striding over to her, responding to the sight with a disappointed frown. “shit— well, that sucks.” 

not like he was actually going to go up and talk to her anyway. socializing was not min yoongi’s forte, no matter how attractive the person was. so he just released a heavy sigh, leaning back beside the dj with a disgruntled look on his face. 

so much for the idea of taking anyone home. 

“and that gives you a reason to beat the shit out of him before kicking him out?” yoongi mused over, folding his arms against his chest. this honestly wasn’t worth the payment he’ll receive the moment he was done taking pictures. but then again — he didn’t want to hear a lecture about how he shouldn’t throw away clients like they were nothing the minute he came home. 

the woes of being a freelance photographer. a steady income never came with that kind of career.

the offer took him aback, and it was from a mostly-stranger nonetheless. 

yoongi stared back at the other male, camera in tow as usual, half-expecting to just capture the nightlife for tonight and come home before namjoon did. maybe it was lonely, being a photographer, always disconnected from the activities going on. but the promise of alcohol sure was tempting— that yoongi actually contemplated on his decision whether to accept or decline.

then again, he hadn’t had any soju since that incident a little over a week ago— and he looked back at the stranger again, only recognizing him briefly from the party. he had an half-assed thought to bring it up, but it was old news. that happened every day. it wasn’t like the other guy was currently in an emotionally distraught state. he seemed fine. harmless.

yoongi glanced up in the middle of previewing his most recent pictures for the day, his grip protective around his camera. he looked around to see if he was hearing things wrong. maybe she was talking to someone else? that would have been the case at least-- until said present was thrusted in his direction.

he greeted the girl with wide eyes, his brain scrambling to find something to say that didn't sound as rude as his usual language. "you know ... usually the golden rule is to refuse any random gifts from strangers." unless they were being paid to hand things out. then he'd accept the bottle of some energy drink or whatever's being advertised to keep himself awake.