|All Seokjin wanted was at least thirty sacred minutes to enjoy his breakfast, nothing more. Thirty minutes of silence while he tries not to burn his tongue because of the too-hot fried rice, thirty precious minutes of silence to make big, important decisions — should he save the last piece of kimchi for the beef, or should he just keep popping little slices in his mouth when he's not chewing on pork? Just thirty minutes of alone time to start the day with, because he knows all too well that the best way to start one's day is by ignoring the impending stresses of work and, instead, focusing on the sweet scent of food wafting right in front of him.|
"But then you're a guy who wears spandex under your suit," he mumbles to himself as he drops his gaze to his watch, to the little red dot glaring at him. Only seven in the morning and there's probably someone trying to steal the sun again. The most ridiculous-sounding plan, really, but Runchrunda and J-Dope actually tried to do that exactly twelve years ago. They only managed to reach, like, half of the mesosphere, though. If they built a better rocket to catapult them to the skies, they might have been able to permeate that layer altogether, but nah. Technology wasn't as advanced then as it is now. Both supervillains sucked at science. They were both wearing capes, and even as early as the thirteenth century, there'd already been reports of supervillains failing because of their goddamned capes flapping on their faces. "In summer. I'm a fucking angel. I should've been blessed with the gift of fli— What the fuck, Yoongi— At least knock on the door instead of just popping up in my house—"
"Too much effort. Not much time." Yoongi straightens his pajamas at the same time that Seokjin picks his chopsticks up from where he'd dropped them to his lap. He's wearing his favorite pair, the powder pink jammies with polka dots from, what, Christmas of 2013? The one Seokjin got him for their Secret Santa? Seokjin can't remember much. All he knows for certain is that Yoongi had mentioned it being his favorite because it was extra soft and comfy, and helped him sleep after particularly rough nights.
Like last night, when they tried to stop a missile headed for Saipan — Yoongi almost passed out while running on water. Seokjin ended up having to carry Yoongi on his back and jumping to travel from the middle of the ocean to the tiny island during the last twenty minutes of their trip. Even then, Yoongi had to take five extra minutes of rest to make sure he was well enough to meet the missile head on. It was so easy for superheroes to be mistaken as people who didn't have limits, as creatures that were unstoppable, but the truth was this — they were just like any other human being, only with more responsibilities to bear.
"Have you had coffee yet? You're staring," Yoongi mumbles, and that's what jolts Seokjin out of his little trance. He lifts his gaze, meeting Yoongi in the eye, and focuses on Yoongi's flushed cheeks, instead, that thin sheet of life crawling under Yoongi's skin. The scrunch of Yoongi's nose makes him pray to whatever gods there are that Yoongi's actually wearing his super suit underneath. The last time his most comfortable sleepwear got burnt during a battle, he almost sped up time by a whole minute. Seokjin has learned never to mess with a speedster, since. Or an 'apparator'. Whatever. "And your favorite overlord splashed water on my face because, apparently, someone's planning to blow up KEPCO so he needs—"
Oh, so it's a KEPCO thing. No more stealing celestial bodies this time, is Seokjin's first thought. A beat, then realization punches him in the gut, making him tilt his head back and squeeze his eyes shut. Fuck his life. "Oh. Joonmyun-hyung wants you to stall."
"Something like that, yeah. Even if he was the one who but us on a time-tampering ban—"
"Or reverse time if ever I end up having to punch the ground to stop the shocks from spreading?" Seokjin tries this time, poking an eye open as he does so. Yoongi is thinning his lips now, fingers busy with undoing the buttons of his shirt, but he takes a second to nod just the same. Seokjin notes the slightest hint of a gray shirt underneath. That helps still the lurching in his insides a little. "Which he banned, too?"
"He's never gonna admit that because he thinks he's got everything under control, but eh." Yoongi's voice dips beneath the rustling of his clothes, shirt coming off as he pulls his shoulders back. He doesn't stay for too long, though, instead turning on his heel and walking in the direction of Seokjin's bathroom. Fifteen years of working alongside each other and he still can't seem to strip in front people, much more Seokjin. It's never gotten in the way of saving people, really, but that doesn't mean Seokjin's ceased wondering why, despite all the years of friendship and familiarity stretched between them, Yoongi still keeps that thin layer of something up. "Finish your food. I can stall. I don't want to deal with you when you're hungry—"
"You just want some of my coffee."
Yoongi pokes his head from the door, then laughs just before ducking back in. "I wouldn't mind some rice and kimchi, either. Eat—"
Seokjin heaves a sigh. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, even chucks Yoongi's shirt at the door, but he sets aside some food for his friend, anyway. Later, he'll be the one bossing Yoongi around, calling the shots, looking for an opening they can capitalize on. Later, he'll be able to kick Yoongi in the ass for breaking into his house.
"I don't hear you eating, hyung," comes Yoongi's voice, muffled by the distance, but Seokjin catches it just the same. Seokjin only rolls his eyes and scoops some rice from Yoongi's share in retaliation.
airplanewishes, you're up!