Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You look pensive.”

Yoongi frowns for a moment before throwing his roommate a disinterested glance.

“What is it this time? Someone cut in line at the long coffee queue?”

“I don’t even like coffee!” He protests, throwing the pencil in his hand over his shoulder and across the room blindly.

“Ow!"

Bulls-eye!

Yoongi smirks at the sound. Then he frowns again.

Now his only pencil was gone.

“So what is it?!”

“How do you even know it’s something?”

“Oh, hyung, just answer me already, will you?”

Yoongi sighs, “Give me back my pencil first.”

His roommate grumbles across the room and successfully displaces an empty plastic mug, a stack of books and a chair piled over with laundry in the process.

“For God’s sake Kim Nam Joon, I asked you give me my pencil back—not start a war!”

“You should have known better than to ask me to look for it,” he talks back in the next instant and Yoongi takes the effort to snap his head around and glare at the boy.

‘Show some respect’ his eyes speak for him and his roommate mutters a hurried apology before he makes to throw the newfound pencil back at Yoongi.

Yoongi scrambles in his chair and rolls away with it right in time just when the pencil whizzes past where his eye had been a few precious seconds ago, ricochets off the cabinet overhead and falls to the floor, taking his pen stand along with it.

Yoongi just sighs in mute resignation, his shoulders expressing his disappointment through the medium of their eloquent sag.

Namjoon doesn’t even bother with another apology, he simply shrugs and begins to drag his chair across the room.                               

Yoongi supposes that it’s a little sad that they have both gotten used to Namjoon’s disastrous and sometimes injurious lumbering.     

When the little wheels of Namjoon’s chair finally stop their ear-splitting, screeching protests against his weight upon Namjoon’s cessation of movement right in front of him , Yoongi begins to speak.

“There’s this boy in my class—no, no Namjoon, don’t give me that look, you doofus. That is not where this is going.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” He exclaims, throwing up his hands that Yoongi skillfully dodges before they smack him in the face.

“Yes, but your face was doing that leery thing again and I know what that means,” Yoongi says, brandishing the pencil threateningly close to Namjoon’s face.

He gets the hint and backs off a little, physically as well as facially.

“So,” Yoongi restarts with a meaningful tilt of his head, as if to say, ‘if you interrupt me again, I might just stab you with this piece of processed wood right here’, “there’s this boy in my English class who keeps talking back to me.”

“Hyung, do you mean he keeps talking to you?”

“No, he talks back to me. I would know the difference.”

“And have you perhaps surmised this only because he looks younger than you?” Namjoon deadpanned.

Yoongi coughs into the fist that clutches the pencil, almost poking himself in the eye in the process and decides that it is better left on the table.

“Well—“ He begins, carefully placing the pencil on the far corner of his study table.

“And does this boy—oh I don’t know—only talk to you when he has a difference in opinion he needs to state?” Namjoon continues, talking over him with a loud voice, squinty eyes and eyebrows drawn.

Well, squintier than usual. He thinks narrowed eyes make him look like an intellectual. Yoongi thinks it just makes him look a little slow. Dim-witted, too.

“Well, hyung, that kind of behaviour has a name and it’s called having a debate. You can’t possibly expect everyone to accept your opinion without having any of their own!”

Yoongi rubs the bridge of his nose, wondering if he has set Namjoon off on a rant. Nobody can stop the boy from spiraling into his highbrow abyss once he slips and falls into that deep, dark pit of no return.

Thankfully for him, Yoongi’s mobile phone alarm goes off in his jeans pocket and he gets to his feet, picking up his backpack off the floor before making his way to the door of their dorm room.

“Wait, hyung! Where are you going? I’m not done yet!” Namjoon states, getting off his chair with indignance.

Yoongi controls a snigger at the way the chair rolls back all the way over the floor to go bang against the far wall and throws Namjoon a sleepy smirk.

“To class, my dear Shakespeare.”

He shuts the door behind him, drawing the strap of his bag firmly over his shoulder as he makes his way down the hall, humming to himself.

Behind him, Namjoon stands at their door yelling his words across the floor and its inhabitants.

“He was a playwright, not a philosopher!”

“Excuse me! Excuse me!”

English class has just ended and Yoongi is making his way to his next lecture when he hears it.

Yoongi stops in his tracks and turns around at the all-too-familiar voice that calls after him. He squints a little against the sunlight and backs up into a corner of the floor to let the other students pass.

“Yes?”

“Hey,” he says, a small, uncertain smile gracing his lips. “May I know your name?”

Yoongi falters a bit at that and then mutters it quickly, “Min Yoon Gi.”

“I’m sorry?” He asks, leaning in further to discern the words.

Yoongi has to repeat it twice over the din the students are causing before his classmate actually catches it. He has an opportunity to finally observe him up close, having had to talk to him across the classroom every time the other had something opposing to say. Doe eyes sit atop a straight nose bridge, full lips and a sharp jaw completing the features. His hair is a colour between baby pink and candlelight orange and Yoongi frowns for a second, struggling to name it.

He has to admit though: the boy can be called pretty.

“Min Yoon Gi,” he nods, trying the sounds out on his tongue, “What’s your major?” The boy asks while gesturing towards the head of the stairs.

Yoongi feels a bit strange on hearing his name in that voice. He has gotten used to the voice piping up in the last three days but only when the boy speaks in English (or at least attempts to). It is warm, Yoongi decides, with a gravelly undertone to it that sounds ticklish to his ears this close.

“I study Photography,” Yoongi tells him as they make their way towards the stairs and quickly adds, “And you?”

“Oh, I study Life Sciences,” he responds, as he waits back to let Yoongi descend the stairs ahead of him.

Polite, Yoongi notes. They arrive on the ground floor and halt, turning to each other to close the conversation.

“I like debating with you early in the morning. Makes for a good start to the day,” he barks out a laugh.

Yoongi finds himself receding into his shell at those straightforward words, head ducking in clear embarrassment as he laughs and agrees, “Yes, me, too.”

After all, where was the harm in admitting the truth?

But he remembers—just in time—to ask the right question, “But what’s your name?”

“Oh. Jung Ho Seok.”

“Jung Ho Seok, it’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi smiles and means it.

And the answering grin that Jung Hoseok throws his way coupled with a reiteration takes his breath away. But Min Yoongi wasn’t about to admit that to anybody.

He only finds himself a little shaken as he waits and watches until Hoseok’s back disappears around the corner.

“Apricots!”

“Huh?” Namjoon asks, sparing Yoongi a glance over his book.

“His hair is the pale orange of apricots!”

“Hyung, are you head over heels for him already?” Namjoon’s booming laugh echoes around their barely furnished room, pierces his skull and knocks around inside his head, too.

“Yah! Shut up, will you?!”

“What? Who else obsesses over someone’s hair dye?” He asks, sitting up in his bed, book placed aside with a bookmark tucked in.

“I wasn’t obsessing over his hair dye. I just had the name of the shade on the tip of my tongue and it’s been nagging me the entire day!”

There is silence for a single beat before Namjoon is pounding the mattress with his fist, howling in laughter.

“Oh you’ve only just met but you are already a goner. Hyung, go for it!” He bellows and Yoongi pulls the pillow he is resting against and aims straight for his roommate’s head.

Namjoon dodges it, emerging victorious before the second pillow Yoongi throws hits him squarely in the face.

It drops off his face and onto his lap, and Yoongi is surprised to find Namjoon beaming instead of glaring at him.

“What? What is it? Why are you making that face?”

“I have been waiting for this day,” he says wistfully, shaking his head from side to side and eyeing Yoongi as if he were his long lost sister who was about to get married.

“Yah! I have said it isn’t like that, haven’t I?”

Namjoon is still smiling dreamily as he lies back down on his stomach, picking up his book to continue where he left off.

Yoongi frowns and goes back to the assignment he is working on, wondering how much longer it would take him to finish it and finally listen to that song their English teacher had asked them to.

He wonders if Hoseok has listened to it already…

“Hoseok? Jung Ho Seok?” Namjoon calls loudly from across the room and Yoongi startles, eyeing him warily.

Had Yoongi just said his name out loud or was Namjoon dabbling in the dark arts of mind reading now?

“Hyung, you just said apricot orange hair right?”

“Yes…” Yoongi squints at him.

“Then it must be Jung Hoseok!”

Yoongi just squints harder, eyebrows raised now.

“He’s the only guy in the whole of our class with that hair.”

“You share a class with him?”

“Yes! We have the Environmental Science lectures with the same professor at his department building. I should have known he was the one debating with you. Haven’t you heard about him? He has the best grades in his entire department.”

This time, Yoongi’s eyebrows rise in genuine surprise.

“Best grades?”

“Yes! I have always wanted to have a discussion with him over the viability of nuclear safety. There is no way we won’t have another Fukushima-Daiichi and Chernobyl if politicians keep lobbying nuclear power plants as the future of global ener—”

“Hold up,” Yoongi raises his hand to stop the verbal train wreck Namjoon was about to become. “Why haven’t you just talked to him if you’re in the same class?” He turns his wrist, letting his palm fall open to indicate his befuddlement, eyebrows drawn and nose scrunched up.

“Well, there’s barely any time left as that lecture is right after my Philosophy class across campus and after that it’s Psychology which takes at least ten minutes to reach even at a flat out run,” he states, lifting a single index finger.

“Serves you right for picking so many electives. What are you going to do with a degree in Liberal Arts anyway?”

Namjoon narrows his eyes, clearly offended at Yoongi’s nonchalant comment.

“Back to my point: Jung Hoseok is everybody’s favourite. Be it the teachers or his classmates. You better treat him well or you’ll have some really upset groupies after you.”

“Hah. You make him sound like a pop star.”

“Well, he does sing as a hobby,” Namjoon shrugs, turning back to his book.

Yoongi perks up at that piece of information, but hesitates before probing Namjoon further. So what if this Hoseok guy sang? It wasn’t a big deal. Namjoon himself produced music as a hobby and Yoongi liked to rap. There were lots of others who did the same sort of stuff as them, dabbling a little in poorly paid artistic work, selling their lyrics to small time singers and the like.

Jung Hoseok was nothing special.

Yoongi repeats that thought in his mind and resumes his work, his mind already pulling up the next day’s schedule.

Just a boy with great grades and singing for a hobby.

Yoongi is passing through the corridor of the Music department, looking for Namjoon the next morning with his file in hand when he hears it.

A soft voice with lilting words, the sounds melting into his eardrums and making him stop in his tracks.

He has gently pushed open the door to the studio before he knows what he is doing, drawn to the voice as if he were hypnotized.

The person isn’t within the glass room but instead sits in front of the recording equipment in the dark, clutching a sheet of paper as they sing.

Yoongi goes to stand beside the boy who has his eyes closed and head bowed, face serene as he draws out the end of the song. Yoongi is surprised on recognizing him. It’s Jung Hoseok.

He knew Hoseok sang. He hadn’t known Hoseok sang like this.

The last melody fades away in the air and Hoseok opens his eyes but it’s too late for Yoongi to get out of there or do anything, so he just stands in place without making a sound.

Hoseok must have sensed his presence however because in the next second, he is tearing Yoongi’s eardrums apart.

And they had only just listened to such beauty, Yoongi thinks regretfully.

Yoongi mentally laments the loss of his hearing, holding himself back from screaming at the boy for having such a shrill shriek.

“Oh God,” he mutters under his breath, hands flying to shield his ears.

“What are you doing here?!” Hoseok chokes out, chest heaving. A deer in headlights.

“I was just passing by when I heard you sing. Was that Japanese?” Yoongi asks, the language registering with him only belatedly.

“Yes,” Hoseok breathes, clutching his chest as he tries to regulate his breathing.

“You speak Japanese then?” Yoongi asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Well, not really. I just like to sing in the language,” Hoseok shrugs, cheeks colouring a little at Yoongi’s absolute attention but because of the darkness inside the studio, the latter doesn’t notice.

“Well, you sound—good. Yes. Keep it up,” Yoongi clears his throat, tucks his hands into his pockets and then excuses himself.

He is way out the building, across half the campus before he realizes he has forgotten the file he was supposed to deliver to Namjoon in Hoseok’s studio. He must have left it there in his daze.

What was that about?

“Oh God,” he groans, crouching on the pavement with his head in his hands.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he gets to his feet, pulling it out to check out a new text message.

10:40 AM

Kim Nam Joon

Jung Hoseok just handed over my file. Are you trying to set me up with him? Because we are totally hitting it off.

“Hyuuung, wake up! It’s time for you to start your day. Your alarm rang thirty minutes ago!”

Yoongi groans at Namjoon’s headache-inducing voice and turns on his side, burying his face into his pillow.

He relaxes in pleasure for a few seconds worth of blissful silence when Namjoon speaks again, his voice curiously low and clear.

“Hyung, don’t you have English in twenty minutes?”

Yoongi’s eyes snap open and his hand fumbles around in the folds of his blanket before closing around his phone.

8:50

Yoongi inhales sharply through his nose, his heart freezing in terror before throwing his blanket aside and practically jumping to his feet.

He knows Namjoon is watching him with disbelief at the sudden agility he is displaying but he doesn’t have the time to fret over it.

Min Yoongi has a class to get to.

He gives up on picking out an outfit, knowing he would have time to come back to get dressed in the empty lecture slot after English so he just steps under the shower  with his toothbrush stuffed in his mouth for a record time of seven minutes before rushing out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Namjoon, don’t forget to get me that pass for Taehyung’s gig. The kid’s going to freak if I don’t attend this time,” he mutters, his words muffled momentarily when he pulls a clean enough shirt over his head, picked out from the ‘not dirty enough for laundry’ pile.

“I’ll leave it on your desk by tonight, hyung. I still have to ask my classmate to get me one of those,” Namjoon mutters, distracted with his phone in hand and Yoongi grabs the opportunity to drop his towel and put on underpants.

“As if you even have time for it,” Yoongi scoffs, now jumping around, trying to fit his legs into his pants.

Who the heck thought skinny jeans was a good idea?

“Don’t you have night school or something?”

He growls in frustration, finally buttoning it up and picking up his English text, a spiral bound notebook and a stray pen pencil.

“Oh please, hyung. You know I can make time for my friends despite my workload,” Namjoon says, sounding all preachy and Yoongi is just about to exit their room after putting on his shoes when he is suddenly blinded.

“Yah!” He protests, struggling against Namjoon’s hold on his head.

“Stay still for just another second, hyung. You don’t wanna catch a cold.”

His roommate dries his hair vigorously, bone-rattling shakes passing through the length of Yoongi’s body while he just tries to keep his feet on the ground.

“Alright! Alright! That’s enough now!” Yoongi wrenches his head free from under the towel, only to be choked by an arm around his neck.

“What are you—”

Namjoon slips his phone inside his back pocket and Yoongi would have thanked him if he hadn’t slapped his butt the next instant.

“Have fun with your debate mate, hyung,” he guffaws.

“I’ll get back to you for this!” Yoongi yells as he is rushing out the door, slipping the pencil in through the spiral binding of his notebook before setting off at a full sprint.

He distantly registers the students around gawping at him.

Yoongi frowns. Just because he prefers to be relaxed and laidback doesn’t mean he is incapable of human functions like running.

He just struggles to run faster to get away from them and to Hoseok in time.

Yoongi stumbles and almost falls flat on his face at the thought that takes him by surprise.

Didn’t he mean to get to English in time?

As he is making his way out of the dormitory towards the Department of Languages, Yoongi analyzes the thought.

Of course he wasn’t in such a hurry to attend an English class.

Sure, English had been the only lecture he looked forward to of late, his other subjects dulling in comparison to the free thinking and opinion based discussions they had in this class. But he’d thought that their English professor had made it so.

They had a new one this semester and even though Yoongi was terrible at the language, he could tell just how good she was.

Soft-spoken, wide-eyed and purely optimistic so early in the morning, she made the start of his day feel exciting by a whole millimeter, if they could measure emotions like distance. She let her students speak their minds no matter what their opinions, let them discuss amongst themselves in the middle of her teaching and even dropped pop culture references once in a while. But then again, she was quite young, only a few years senior to the students themselves so that might explain her open-minded behaviour and having nothing against too many questions asked.

Not to mention, she was easy on the eyes.

Who wouldn’t look forward to her lectures?

But that was before Hoseok.

Now, his day was the tiniest bit brighter. He had an interesting, new person to look forward to.

A person who could keep up with his opinions and his ‘step away from me or I’ll shoot’ personality.

Nobody ever really challenged Yoongi, academically or otherwise, preferring to stay in their own lane instead of crossing his path.

So it had come as quite the shock when he had addressed him first.

Hoseok had always been that kid in class who answered the professor whenever she decided to encourage students’ participation—which was always.

To Yoongi, Hoseok had been just another smart kid who was bold enough to speak his mind instead of being anxious and quiet like all the others. He had listened to his words with casual interest as long as it was relevant to the course content.

He was well aware that this stranger would also pay rapt attention whenever Yoongi decided to put forth a point of his own.

Sometimes, he stared at Yoongi even after he had finished making his point clear and Yoongi would throw a disinterested glance in his direction as if to say ‘I can see you,’ and the stranger would blink a little and then look away.

Sometimes, Hoseok would hold his gaze. Sometimes, Yoongi would deliberately lock eyes with him while answering their professor.

It had been a little game of theirs, seeing who could raise their hands first, who could make a better point, who could get their teacher’s approval.

“Ma’am, I was wondering what the poet meant by Triumph and Disaster being imposters. I haven’t quite understood that. Wouldn’t one cherish triumph and express loss in disaster?”

“I think the poet means to say that they aren’t their true selves”

Yoongi is startled, darting his eyes across the classroom to find the source of that voice. Ah, it was that strange kid again.

He worries a little at the boy’s abrupt rudeness, sneaking a glance at their professor to see if the smart kid had offended her by answering another student’s question when that was basically her job. However, he is relieved to see that she has a small smile in place as she listens to this student explain the concept.

“They are imposters.”

Yoongi frowns at the confidence in this child’s voice. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that. As if they were telling him something so obvious. Well, except teachers. But they were supposed to do that.

“That Triumph could be masquerading as something else. And Disaster could very well be Triumph in disguise.”

“Oh,” he blinks in understanding, the poet’s words ringing clearer in his head now.

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same.

Yoongi clearly remembers the smile that had unfurled on his face at the bigger picture as he had read and reread the lines in his textbook, strangely grateful to the student who had apparently taken it upon himself to enrich Yoongi’s education.

His reminiscing shudders to a halt when he stops at the door of their designated classroom, asking for permission to enter.

The professor glances at the disturbance, recognizes him as one of her more enthusiastic students and smiles welcomingly.

“You may enter,” she gestures towards the desks.

Yoongi lowers his head, half in acknowledgement and half in greeting and let’s his eyes take in the faces—the regulars and the newer attendees who only ever came to fill the attendance sheets.

His gaze catches on the familiar mop of apricot hair and he feels a little spasm of relief within him.

Today’s class was sure as hell going to be interesting.

Yoongi closes his notebook at the end of class, tucking his pencil into the spirals again before getting to his feet.

He is surprised to find Hoseok standing by his desk silently, phone in hand. He lets the raise of his eyebrows convey the question and is even more confused when Hoseok hands him his phone, his fingers scrambling to hold it before it falls to the ground.

“Huh?” He expresses his bewilderment with much eloquence, letting his eyes rise from the phone to Hoseok’s face.

“Your number,” Hoseok says simply, flicking his eyebrows towards his device.

Yoongi feels a jolt of shock—and something else he doesn’t have time to analyze—run through him at his words.

“Oh,” he breathes, too dumbfounded to react in any other manner. He mechanically lets his fingers take over the screen, handing the phone back to its owner once his number is typed in.

“There you go,” he adds unnecessarily and gathers his things.

“Thanks,” Hoseok mutters, brow furrowed as he begins to slowly descend the steps towards their classroom door down the aisle between the rows of desks.

Yoongi walks by his side in a daze while Hoseok jots down his name in the contact information box and saves it to his directory.

Hoseok asks him questions about the location of his other lectures on campus and Yoongi answers perfunctorily, still a little in shock.

They are already down the stairs and on the ground floor when Hoseok turns to him again.

“Would you like to go for lunch with me tomorrow?” Hoseok asks easily and Yoongi flounders for a second before Hoseok asks another question, “Do you eat lunch?”

And Yoongi makes a face at that and states, “Of course” with a tone that implies that he is questioning his classmate’s sanity.

“Great then. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Hoseok beams, waving at him with the hand that holds his phone. The phone that holds his contact number safely registered in the confines of its phone book.

And then he walks away to his next class, leaving a stunned Yoongi in his wake.

A Yoongi who realizes after his next lecture has already commenced that he might have just gotten asked out and agreed to it—all by accident.

Chapter Text

The café is loud, the chatter and clinks of cutlery and crockery washing over Yoongi and dying out somewhere along the way to his ears.

It’s all a little quieter, he finds, when Hoseok is talking to him.

He hasn’t seen passion like this in—ever.

Yoongi doesn’t like talking about himself to strangers, or unless asked. And even then, his answers are brief and to the point.

But here is Hoseok, his exact opposite. Yoongi asks him one question, about why he chose the major he did and Hoseok takes off on this long, happy speech. His eyes are positively lit up, lips stretched wide to reveal a set of perfect teeth and hands gesticulating wildly. He can feel the intensity of his feelings about the subject burning low within the boy, his tone fluctuating between disturbingly loud and so soft that Yoongi has to lean in to hear him over the noisy patrons around them.

“Here’s your order,” a waitress interrupts them with a small smile, and Yoongi only realizes how close he had been to Hoseok’s face, both of them meeting each other’s gaze over the table, only when he has to lean back to let her place their desserts on the table.

He watches Hoseok rub the back of his neck, lips pursed and head bowed as he looks back at Yoongi through his eyelashes.

Yoongi clears his throat, throws the waitress an acknowledging glance when she asks if they needed anything more and feels his eyes get drawn back to Hoseok who is now grinning brightly at her.

“Thank you!” He murmurs and Yoongi can see the waitress get flustered, eyes blinking rapidly and a sheepish grin gracing her features.

Yoongi snorts when he sees her trip on her own two feet while going back to the kitchens.

“Do you know what kind of an effect you have on people?” He has blurted out the question before he can stop himself and he freezes, his spoon halfway to the plate in front of him and eyes glaring at the dessert as if it were the pastry’s fault.

“No. But I’d like to know.”

Yoongi lets his eyes snap to Hoseok’s in surprise and he feels his breath catch at the playful grin on the latter’s face.

Yoongi chooses to promptly stuff his mouth with a spoonful of pastry and he hears Hoseok laugh—loudly—before he proceeds to do the same.

It’s at the same instant of time that their eyes meet in shocked surprise, mouths slowing down as the flavours of their respective pastries burst and take over their taste buds.

Hoseok is the first one to break the silence with a pleased moan as he leans back in his chair, head thrown back, eyes closed and fingers rising to his lips.

They are sitting by the glass wall in a cozy corner of the café, afternoon sunlight showering them both with brightness.

And Yoongi admits grudgingly, that yes, Hoseok isn’t just pretty.

He is beautiful.

Yoongi finds his eyes lingering on the flawless skin of low, round cheeks and the soft, high cheekbones. He gets stuck marveling at the smooth dips above the corners of his lips when Hoseok smiles at the deliciousness of the pastry.

And then Yoongi has to tear his eyes away when Hoseok opens his.

“Oh God. This place was the right choice! I must thank Jimin,” Hoseok mumbles as he licks his lips and digs in with renewed enthusiasm.

“Jimin?”

“Oh, he’s my roommate. He’s the one who suggested I take you to this place,” Hoseok says with half a smile, mouth full in the next instant.

“I’ve never seen you around the dorms,” Yoongi frowns, only just realizing the fact.

“Got our own flat nearby. Takes 10 minutes on foot,” Hoseok says, placing his spoon down.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows in question and Hoseok chuckles, grinning beautifully once again as he answers, “If I continue eating at this rate, we will have to end this too quickly.”

Oh.

Yoongi doesn’t know quite what to say to that, but he bites his bottom lip to control the smile that threatens to unfurl at his words. It was always good to know someone enjoyed your company enough to want to prolong it.

He lets his eyes wander around the place in search of a distraction.

His eyebrows shoot up to find their server looking at Hoseok from across the café, and he smirks, eyes focusing back on Hoseok.

“She’s watching you.”

“Who?” Hoseok asks, his eyes widening marginally and turns around to follow Yoongi’s line of sight.

The waitress snaps her head away, fumbling with the—thankfully—empty tray she is carrying for a moment before scurrying off into the kitchen doors.

Both of them chuckle softly at her reaction and Hoseok turns back to him, face contemplative.

“Well…” he begins, carefully picking up his spoon and pointing it at Yoongi, “She is pretty. I’ll give you that.”

Yoongi huffs and stares out the glass wall to his left, watching people walk by.

Yoongi could appreciate beauty when he saw it and Hoseok was right. The waitress really was pretty. But that didn’t mean he had to like the fact that Hoseok had noticed it, too. He frowns, eyebrows drawn in silence.

“But I’m not interested.”

For the third time today, Yoongi finds his gaze drawn back to Hoseok without his own volition and he is surprised to hear his own response.

“Then what are you interested in?”

“That’s a secret,” Hoseok winks—Hoseok winks and Yoongi can feel the blood rise to his cheeks and he curses under his breath at his practically transparent skin, at the sun, at how Hoseok seems to be noticing the flush in clear amusement.

He has the audacity to laugh then, Hoseok actually laughs, the sound musical and free—almost like the laughter of  a gleeful child and Yoongi can’t help but admire his beauty in the moment, eyes locked with the shining pair across from his.

“Hyung, you’re back so late! I take it your date went well?” Namjoon asks, closing the bathroom door behind him as he wipes his feet on the mat, a towel slung around his neck.

Yoongi stops rubbing his eyes and blinks blearily at Namjoon till they focus on him.

“Good God, what happened to you?” His roommate asks, dropping his towel on the bed and approaching him with something close to horrified awe.

Yoongi just groans, shuffles to the foot of his bed and lets his knees give out under him, flopping face-first onto his bed.

“Hyung?” Comes Namjoon’s worried voice from somewhere over him.

Yoongi just groans further into his pillow, realizes he has exhausted his oxygen in the process and rolls over sluggishly to allow respiratory functioning to resume.

“Hyung, you look like you got run over by a truck,” Namjoon pokes Yoongi in the face, retracting his hand immediately. Yoongi squints up at him, frowns and then grunts in protest. It wasn’t like he would have hit Namjoon for doing that.

“And then one more,” Namjoon adds, backing one step away from the bed when Yoongi musters up the last vestiges of his energy to throw him a murderous glare.

Nope, Yoongi changes his mind, he should have definitely slapped that hand away when he had the chance.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yoongi breathes, and throws an arm over his eyes to shield them from the late afternoon sunlight.

To be completely honest, Yoongi disliked people. Unless he personally picked out the people he could tolerate even on his worst days, he hated the very thought of them. He was hardly a social butterfly, content with his own company and that of music. He liked being alone. People who knew him had gotten used to it but the strangers who did come close enough to Yoongi wondered about who in today’s century truly preferred being alone all the time.

So if someone were to ask him why he looked and felt so drained after having hung out with Jung Hoseok…he had only one explanation: He was not used to expending energy in social situations.

Already into the second year of university and Yoongi had exhausted his (limited) quota of people to be befriended.

Yoongi’s roommate from first year, Choi Young Jae, had been a boy more interested in singing than anything else with a voice that had always lulled Yoongi to peaceful sleep. His shy, amiable nature and a recurring tendency to be a pushover had Yoongi turning into his bodyguard for the whole of their time together. Of course, by the end of their year, he had found Jackson who was the human version of a megaphone and Yoongi had felt assured of Youngjae’s safety in Wang’s hands.

He had Kim Nam Joon, his roommate, whom he had had to befriend by default. People tended to be more co-operative when you at least pretended to like them and he hadn’t wished to spend his energy trying to deflect an angry roomie so Yoongi had just decided to go with the flow. Later on, it had turned out that they had shared a lot of the same interests, Namjoon’s rapping skills, lyrical fluidity in two languages and philosophical talks making Yoongi warm up to him even when he wasn’t someone who was easily impressed.

And then there was Kim Tae Hyung, their mutual who was currently finishing up with his pre-university course. He was quite the…eccentric child, if Yoongi were to be completely honest about it. They had met through Namjoon, the boy completely immune to Yoongi’s life-threatening aura and rather proud about how he could make Yoongi’s mood better just by his presence. Of course, even Taehyung knew not to push Yoongi on his bad days. But it was nice to know someone from back home, and Yoongi found it easy to slip into his original accent, Taehyung’s eyes lighting up as he responded in kind.

And Taehyung had dragged along with him a kid so shy, Yoongi had wondered if he even knew how to speak. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but Yoongi  had grown rather fond of how that boy looked at everything around him in mute awe, eyes round as saucers.

Yoongi was racking his brains as to what Taehyung always called him when Namjoon interrupted his thought process.

“Hyung, you went on one date in the entirety of the twenty years of your life,” his roommate deadpans.

He can practically feel Namjoon’s disdainful look.

Yoongi sighs, drops his arm back on the mattress and eyes Namjoon.

“And that has drained me so shut it,” he mutters before turning on his side to face the wall.

“I assume it didn’t go that well, then?” Yoongi doesn’t like how pleased he sounds.

“Excuse me,” Yoongi begins in a low voice that he knows his dongsaeng is scared of. “It went quite well, thank you for your concern.”

“Well, if it did, I assume you must be doing it again some time?”

Yoongi turns only his head to face Namjoon and frowns thoughtfully.

“Actually, we are. Next Saturday.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline and he claps his hands together once, smiling till his lips are stretched across his face.

“That’s wonderful, hyung. I’m happy for you.”

The words sound genuine enough but Yoongi still worries, turning back to face the wall when Namjoon turns to his side of the room on hearing Yoongi’s vaguely responsive sound.

“You know it’s weird the way you asked for my number, right?”

“What?”

“Yes. It would have been different had we been friends prior to that. But we’ve known each other for—how long exactly?”

“Six lectures.”

“…yes. We’ve known each other for a whole of six lectures, talked around twice and that was enough for you to want to ask for my number? I mean, for a moment there, I thought you were asking me out.”

“Well, it’s not every day you meet someone interesting enough to catch your attention.”

“…I suppose so.”

“So, you wanna do this again next Saturday?”

“Why not.”

Yoongi can still hear Hoseok’s light, carefree chuckle in response to Yoongi’s ‘asking me out’ statement. It’s ridiculous, the kind of tactics he had had to resort to in order to hide his cheeks. He envies Hoseok for being the kind of blunt that has people flushing with pleasure instead of rage.

On hearing Hoseok’s question of hanging out again, something inside Yoongi’s stomach had actually fluttered before he could tamp down the feeling and answer with forced nonchalance.

He’d be lying if he said the prospect of meeting up with Hoseok didn’t excite him.

But he still hadn’t gotten a definitive yes or no when he had tried to sneakily confirm whether their outing had been just another hang out or a date.

All of their conversation at the café counts as flirting. He is sure of it. He just isn’t sure if it was playful banter or interested attention.

And he doesn’t know if he wants to find out.

“Hyung, I think it’s here,” Namjoon directs Yoongi with a gentle push towards the right entrance.

They have arrived at the theater for Taehyung’s drama tonight and Yoongi is surprised to find a crowd in the foyer itself.

Even considering the fact that it was a Sunday, Yoongi wasn’t aware that amateur dramas had this much of a turnout.

He frowns down at the pass in his hand before handing it over to the doorman who breaks it into a half along the dotted line and hands over one of the halves back to Yoongi.

They enter the auditorium and Yoongi’s ears are blessed with the sudden quiet that surrounds him. It is difficult to maneuver himself between the aisles in near darkness and he trips twice before latching onto Namjoon’s jacket for balance.

“Min Yoongisshi?”

This time Yoongi stumbles because, Namjoon decides to turn around at the sound of Yoongi’s name and elbow him right in the middle which almost sends him tumbling down the carpeted stairs.

Almost.

He only almost rolls down the steps because a strong arm has curled around his waist, ensuring the attachment of his booted feet safely to the floor. It’s warm, Yoongi notes, and so is the body that he is being held against. His neck hurts at this angle though and he grunts, gripping onto the person who holds him for dear life when his left foot slips off a step and dangles in the air.

He looks up to find a pair of doe eyes staring into his in mild amusement, and Yoongi cannot help but stare back even though Jung Hoseok’s pretty face is too close to his for comfort.

His heart clenches for a painful, stifling second at the proximity, the faint light from the entrance signs within the theater painting Hoseok’s features in soft, muted colour and he is beautiful even like this, Yoongi observes. Even when Yoongi’s eyes can’t see shit.

“Ahem! Hyung…” Namjoon clears his throat pointedly and it snaps Yoongi out of his daze and good god is he mortified at the position he finds himself in.

He is hanging off Hoseok’s right arm, neck straining against gravity to hold his head up and his left arm is slung over his friend’s shoulder, his hand holding onto Hoseok’s neck for support.

No wonder his face was mere inches away from Yoongi’s.

Yoongi finds his footing and disentangles himself from Hoseok, feeling blood rush into his face as his fingers lift away from Hoseok’s skin.

He straightens up his faux leather jacket, pulling the silver chain around his neck back in place over his deep grey shirt and coughs, finally taking in Hoseok.

Yoongi barely keeps his jaw from dropping at how dressed up he looks in a casual cut, black blazer thrown over a shiny, plum shirt and dark skinny jeans.

He feels Namjoon snigger behind him and turns sharply to throw him a glare, knowing that the semi-darkness won’t let Hoseok witness that exchange.

“Thanks for that, Namjoon,” he murmurs in the sweetest voice he can muster and turns his attention back to Hoseok.

“Thanks, I could have cracked my skull like that,” he mutters, hand reaching for the hair at his nape.

Hoseok just laughs and Yoongi startles at the quiet, deep sound of it—it’s a tad bit different from the usual sunny one he has. It has an edge tonight, Yoongi notes with a thrill of excitement zinging through him.

“I can assure you,” Hoseok continues in the same deep octave as he takes one step up to Yoongi's level and successfully towers over him in the process, “I most certainly wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Yoongi gulps and throws Namjoon a look from the corner of his eyes for any sign from the man that he had heard it, too.

Or maybe Yoongi was just hallucinating as an effect of the almost-fall.

“Yoongisshi, meet Park Jimin, my roommate and good friend,” Hoseok grins, gesturing to a boy that Yoongi hadn’t noticed until now.

The said boy is standing a step lower than them and he greets them, bowing deeply before looking up at Yoongi, his demeanor meek and rather soft.

Yoongi returns the bow and nods at Jimin, “I am Min Yoon Gi, Hoseoksshi’s friend from English.”

“Ah, ye, I have heard all about you, Min Yoongisshi,” Jimin smiles at him, eyes morphing into glittering crescents and Yoongi would say his heart melted at the sight and his high, calm voice, but he is not a sap so he doesn’t.

“Hoseok, it’s nice to meet you again!” Yoongi almost sprains his neck with how fast he turns to look at Namjoon and when on earth did they become comfortable enough to drop honorifics with each other?!

“Ah, Namjoon! It’s a surprise to see you two here. I wasn’t aware you enjoyed theater?” Hoseok directs that last part to Yoongi and he finds himself floundering for a bit before Namjoon takes over.

“Our dongsaeng has a part in it so we came here to support him. Kim Taehyung.”

“He is really great!”

All three of them eye Jimin at his sudden outburst and the boy almost folds in on himself at the attention.

Namjoon turns to Hoseok, plucking his pass right out of his hand.

“I’ll take this, thank you very much. And here you go,” he mutters, stuffing his own pass into the other’s open palm.

“Jiminsshi, why don’t you take us to our seats?” He beams widely, leading Jimin away from them with a hand on his shoulder and Yoongi is confused for a single second before cold dread fills his chest.

“Uh Namjoon—” he begins weakly, but it’s too late, they have already descended the steps to almost three rows down and it’s just Hoseok and him here in the back.

“Shall we?” Hoseok asks with a soft smile this time and Yoongi can’t help but shrug in agreement.

He looks for the familiar head in despair but gives up and follows Hoseok up the steps.

Namjoon really had terrible seats reserved for them, Yoongi thought as he waited for the lights to go off completely and the play to begin.

Till then, he satisfied himself by glaring in the general direction where he had seen Namjoon disappear with one quietly bewildered Park Jimin in tow.

“How have you been?” Hoseok asks as he slips his silenced phone into a pocket lining the inside of his blazer.

“We met each other yesterday,” Yoongi frowns.

Hoseok chuckles quietly before responding with a vague hand gesture, “Yes, but you look a little…frazzled, so to speak.”

Yoongi swallows at that and runs a hand through his hair, letting the fringe cover most of his eye as he ducks his head in clear embarrassment.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. You are looking good tonight.”

Hoseok’s lips form a light smirk and Yoongi tempted to wipe that off his face.

“So are you,” he retaliates, looking up at Hoseok through his eyelashes in a way that’s rather suggestive of the fact of his blatant flirtation.

When the bells begin to ring and the lights go dimmer to signify the commencement of the play, Yoongi throws Hoseok a slow smile before leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

This was going to be a long couple of hours.

And a long couple of hours it is.

Yoongi finds himself almost painfully aware of Hoseok’s presence beside him throughout the entirety of the play, barely being able to focus on the storyline.

The dialogues pass right over his head when Hoseok throws his arm onto the armrest between them, the palm facing upwards. Open and inviting.

Yoongi had buried deeper into his seat, eyeing the arm with disdain.

Every breath Hoseok takes, every shift of his form signified by the sound of his clothes brushing against his skin or the seat caused Yoongi’s hair to rise on end—in anticipation or irritation, he wasn’t sure. But God, he is hoping it ends soon.

Halfway through it, Yoongi is so irked by Hoseok’s mere existence that he whispers at him through the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have any idea how distracting your presence is?” And only after the words are out of his mouth does he realize how they can be interpreted.

He freezes when he hears Hoseok’s response.

“I could say the same to you!”

The play is nearing its end when he hears it, quiet sniffling coming from beside him.

“Hoseoksshi?”

The person in question has clear tear tracks glistening down his face, eyes shimmering when the gaze turns to focus on him instead of the stage.

“Are you…alright?” Yoongi asks, raising a hand uncertainly. He didn’t know how to comfort people. Especially when the cause of discomfort was unknown.

Hoseok gives him a watery smile, the expression somehow making him look even prettier and Yoongi sighs, letting his hand pat the boy’s knee slowly.

He turns back to watch the play, to let his friend have some semblance of privacy while crying his eyes out but finds himself stilling when he feels a hand clasp his over the latter’s knee.

Yoongi dares to sneak a look at Hoseok. The boy is clearly entranced by the lead of the play, yet another tall and beautiful man and whatever he is saying must be hitting a nerve because tears are still trailing ceaselessly over his cheeks.

Yoongi looks away and swallows rather audibly when he feels Hoseok’s fingers slip into the gaps between his digits and curve into his palm, the grip firm and warm.

He distantly wondered if he was the one comforting Hoseok or if it was the other way around.

The play ends soon enough though, much to Yoongi’s dismay and further, his own surprise at his disappointment and the warmth of Hoseok’s hand leaves his as he tries to wipe the salty tracks away, head bowed and eyes shut.

Yoongi gets to his feet in the mean time, looking for that bastard Namjoon who had left him alone like that. Yoongi still hasn’t decided whether he is feeling thankful or just murderous.

He finds Namjoon and Jimin heading out through the exits by the stage, and taps Hoseok on the shoulder, nodding towards their friends.

“Shall we?”

Hoseok gives him a frail smile and stands up, nodding in agreement.

They find themselves backstage after following Namjoon’s lead through a couple of doors and hallways. He doesn’t remember a backstage visit being on the agenda but he stops fretting about it when he is surprised to find his arms full of a joyous Taehyung.

He grunts at the weight and gently holds him away from his chest, grinning down at the boy.

“Kid, I didn’t understand any of what you did, but you were great,” he says, ruffling his hair with a chuckle.

“Thanks, Yoongi hyung. I can’t believe you made it! And you brought friends, too!” Taehyung notes, eagerly bowing towards both Hoseok and Jimin, introducing himself and thanking them for attending the show.

“Kim Taehyungsshi, I was absolutely moved by your performance,” Hoseok says with a grin, hands clapping thrice in succession at a now hyper Taehyung.

“And, I have also brought you an ardent fan of yours,” Hoseok smirks, and he shares a knowing glance with both Hoseok and Namjoon before shoving Jimin in front of an excited Taehyung.

“Really?!”

A beetroot red Park Jimin however is saved from gaping wordlessly when someone calls for Taehyung.

“Taehyungah?”

All five of them turn at the sound of that melodious voice, and Yoongi has to bite his lip to hold back an exclamatory remark.

God damn, he had never seen someone more suited to the performing arts.

Walking towards them was a tall, positively gorgeous man, the lead of the drama they had just had the pleasure to enjoy, his gait as graceful and precise as that of royalty.

“Are these your friends?” He asks, smiling down at all of them. “Won’t you introduce them?”

“Ah, hyung,” Taehyung blushes and nods before gesturing at each of them. “These are my other hyungs and their friends from university.”

"Yoongi hyung, Namjoon hyung, meet my colleague and mentor, Kim Seok Jin.”

Chapter Text

“Kim Taehyung, you flatter me. Annyong haseyo, I’m Kim Seok Jin,"  the man repeats needlessly but humbly, bowing in response to their greetings. “I’m his inspiration, he says. But I’m no mentor.”

“You are my mentor,” Taehyung says, voice hushed and in awe as he stares up at Seokjin.

Yoongi thinks he is gawping a little too obviously. But he cuts him some slack because who wouldn’t gawp at a face like that.

“And you, my boy, are my muse,” Seokjin smiles down at Taehyung with eyes full of unbearable fondness and Yoongi has to cough rather loudly to snap them out of it.

Trust Kim Tae Hyung to be the ugly duckling to claim the first pretty thing he sees upon hatching as his mother.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kim Seok Jinsshi,” Namjoon speaks up from somewhere behind him and Yoongi watches him approach Seokjin with an extended hand.

Seokjin blinks twice—or should Yoongi say, he squeezes them shut and then opens them again—before letting the hand at the small of Taehyung’s back drop and clasp Namjoon’s proffered palm.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows when Namjoon shakes Seokjin’s hand with both of his a little too thoroughly and only then notices the dazed glimmer in his roommate’s eyes.

Good God, that was fast, he thinks. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted and just shrugs to himself, turning to glance at Hoseok.

Catching Hoseok’s eye, he tilts his head in the direction of his roommate meaningfully and mouths ‘goner’ with a smirk.

Hoseok chuckles, nodding along on instantly knowing the implications, before he jabs a discreet thumb over his shoulder.

Yoongi follows his direction before sighing when he notices the hopeless look in Jimin’s eyes which are staring straight at Taehyung who has been observing the exchange between Namjoon and Seokjin with undisguised glee. Looking back at Hoseok, he rolls his eyes and shrugs as if to indicate his helplessness and clears his throat once again pointedly.

“Ah, how rude of me,” Seokjin begins. “I was going to take Tae out to dinner as a reward for his brilliant performance tonight. But, seeing as he has such good company would you all care to join us?”

Seokjin is smiling at them all angelically and Yoongi, who’s about to decline the offer in spite of that gets rudely interrupted by Namjoon.

“Of course. It would be a pleasure,” he says, face completely lit up and Yoongi slouches in defeat. He was Namjoon’s ride and if he left his roommate behind, he wouldn’t hear the end of it for the remnant of the year.

“Ah, Yoongisshi,” Hoseok grabs his attention with a soft whisper and fingers on his elbow. “Shall we…?”

He’s confused for a moment (and a teensy bit distracted because a well-dressed Hoseok in bright lights is quite a thing to look at) before he realizes that Hoseok is hesitating.

“Hyung, my fan is invited, too, right?” Taehyung asks cheekily, eyes fixed on a Jimin who keeps getting steadily redder and discreetly tries to shuffle behind Hoseok, away from Taehyung’s line of sight.

Seokjin chuckles and nods, “Of course, Taehyungah. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

“Well, you heard the guy,” Yoongi mutters to Hoseok.

*

They are all waiting outside the theater for Seokjin and Taehyung who had to stay backstage to finish greeting friends and fans alike.

Namjoon seems to be hyperventilating quietly to the side while Hoseok and Jimin are talking to each other in low voices and Yoongi sees the younger one flush and avert his eyes. This elicits a loud laugh from Hoseok and he wraps an arm around the shorter boy’s middle, grinning down at him.

Yoongi wonders if there is more than what meets the eye here but his thoughts are interrupted when Seokjin and Taehyung finally walk out the theater doors.

“Which restaurant are we going to? Jimin and I will take a cab there,” Hoseok speaks up, squeezing the smaller one beside him with downcast eyes.

“I can take four of us in my car,” Seokjin says, plucking out keys from his suit pocket with a flourish and a smile.

“Yes, Namjoon and I can follow behind you,” Yoongi murmurs, scratching his ear.

“Hyung, you can bring Hoseok along,” Namjoon stares hard at Yoongi with lips pressed together and he thinks that he look is supposed to mean something but he can’t seem to make any sense of it.

He just looks vaguely…constipated.

“I am sure Taehyung wants to ride with Jiminsshi,” he adds and then it clicks.

Oh, that bastard. Yoongi narrows his eyes at Namjoon who just shrugs as Taehyung and Seokjin murmur in agreement.

Seokjin chirps a happy, “Follow me!” And the two of them quickly walk after him.

Yoongi sighs and waits with his hands in his jacket pockets while Jimin and Hoseok have a quick debate.

In the end, Hoseok gently shoves a reluctant Jimin in the direction of Taehyung who is waiting for them a few paces ahead on the pavement with a bright, hopeful grin, and then Hoseok is left alone with Yoongi.

He gestures to Hoseok with his fingers and begins to walk in the direction opposite to where Seokjin disappeared with Namjoon and hears Hoseok’s soft footsteps follow.

He finds his baby parked safe and sound and gets on, inserting the key to turn the ignition on.

“What are you waiting for?” He asks, pulling out his gloves from within his jacket and slips each one onto his hands.

“You…own a bike?” Hoseok asks, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

“…yes, as you can see,” Yoongi tilts his head and rolls his eyes while zipping up his jacket.

“Not just any bike. You own a Hayabusa…”

“Yes. I do,” Yoongi smirks, hearing the clear astonishment in Hoseok’s eyes. He straps on his helmet and throws Hoseok the one for the pillion rider.
“I don’t seem like the kinda guy to own one, do I?”

Hoseok just mutely shakes his head, putting on the helmet, eyes still roving over every inch of the beauty Yoongi straddles.

“Hop on. We’re going for the best ride of your life,” Yoongi smirks, focusing on the car that is pulling out onto the street. He can see Jimin’s silver-haired head in the backseat beside one that is clearly Taehyung.

“I bet we are,” Hoseok agrees, gripping Yoongi’s shoulder with his hand for support and Yoongi watches him swing his right leg over the end of the bike before it shifts under his added weight.

“Jimin just texted the address,” he hears Hoseok’s muffled voice before a bright mobile phone screen is brought into his field of vision.

“Hold on tight, we’ll want to get there before they do,” Yoongi nods at the phone and revs the engine while Hoseok puts the phone away.

Hoseok’s grip on his shoulder disappears and Yoongi figures he is holding onto the rear fairing.

Yoongi drops the helmet’s tinted visor with a click and then they are off.

*

“So, how was it?” Yoongi asks, slinging the helmet onto the bike’s handlebar. He turns to face Hoseok with an expectant look.

He sighs when he sees Hoseok still fumbling with the chin strap and Yoongi steps closer to him to help, lightly batting his hands away.

“Let me,” he murmurs, unbuckling the strap with careful fingers while trying not to stare at his eyes through the visor, before gently pulling the helmet off Hoseok’s head.

Yoongi almost reaches out to clear his eyes of the warm orange bangs that have fallen in but stops himself in time, flexing his fingers uselessly as Hoseok fixes his hair himself.

He wonders why Hoseok’s cheeks are flushed and only steps out of his personal space with a grunt when the latter finally focuses on him with eyes blown wide.

“That…was fun,” Hoseok murmurs breathlessly, chest heaving and lips slowly unfurling into the grin Yoongi is familiar with.

Yoongi chuckles in response and slings the helmet onto the other grip. “Let’s wait inside for the others,” he says.

But just as soon as they begin to head towards the restaurant’s entrance, the latter stumbles and Yoongi rushes to steady him with an arm around his waist.

“Are you alright?” He asks with a frown just as Hoseok slings an arm around his shoulders to hold himself up.

He nods vigorously and grins at his feet.

“I’m just not used to recreational racing,” he jokes and Yoongi shakes his head at the boy, helping him into the restaurant.

Yoongi spots a table in a cozy, dimly-lit corner of the restaurant and makes a beeline for it, knowing Hoseok would follow.

He picks the seat closed in by two walls and the table and settles in with a relaxed sigh, pulling his gloves off and shoving them into his jacket before taking that off too.

He is surprised when Hoseok, instead of sitting across from him like any normal human being, takes the seat right beside his and relaxes into the comfortable cushioning with a sigh of his own, eyes shut and head laid back.

“I’m sorry for what happened back in the theater.”

Yoongi turns to look at him in surprise at the quiet words.

“What happened back in the theater…?” Yoongi frowns.

“I have a tendency to get emotional quite easily. I couldn’t help—” Hoseok is wringing his hands in his lap, eyes now staring at the darkness under the table.

“Hey, hey. You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s called being sensitive. So what,” Yoongi shrugs, ignoring the way Hoseok stills and observe him through the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah…” He breathes, looking away and Yoongi watches his lips curve mirthlessly. “So what.”

He looks at Hoseok’s hunched back, his hands clutching his knees and the vague distress in his eyes and decides that it isn’t a look he likes on him.

So he does what he had done before, hoping it would be a welcome gesture.

He covers Hoseok’s hand with his, interlacing their fingers as the latter had in the darkness of the theater and resumes staring at the entrance of the restaurant as they wait for their friends.

And when Hoseok raises a surprised pair of eyes to his, Yoongi notices in his peripheral vision but doesn’t let it show (while simultaneously fighting off a blush that threatened to light his face on fire) and watches Hoseok’s frown morph into a genuine smile with much pleasure, disguised as it is.

But the pleasure is clouded over with worry when he wonders what’s on Hoseok’s mind, what it could possibly be that makes him apologize for a simple show of emotion.

“So, how did you get a Hayabusa?”  Hoseok asks with a beaming smile and Yoongi almost flinches at how bright it is.

You know, your mood swings are giving me a whiplash.

“It was a going away present…” He responds, a little thrown at the abrupt change in demeanour.

Hoseok’s eyes go wider. “How did you get a Hayabusa as a going away present?”

“It was a gift to please me more than anything else. Since I wasn’t going to rent an apartment, my parents said a vehicle will help me in getting around Seoul,” Yoongi shrugs, turning away to play with the end of the tablecloth.

“Some cool parents you’ve got,” Hoseok says in awe and Yoongi frowns.

“Of course they’ll be generous as long as their only child does what they want,” he mutters under his breath but to his exasperation, Hoseok catches that.

“But you major in what you love…” Hoseok’s statement trails off, morphing into a question. “Don’t you?”

“On the condition that I study Physics, Statistics and Mathematics, too,” Yoongi deadpans and Hoseok sends his way a goggle-eyed look which Yoongi misses.

“You sound like a genius,” he breathes.

At these words, Yoongi feels rather pleased.

“Now, that’s where you are absolutely right. I am a genius,” he says, raising his eyes to Hoseok’s before throwing him a wink.

Hoseok, Yoongi concludes at the end of the night, is a very touchy feely person. That is, once you make him comfortable enough around you, he gives himself the go ahead for plainly apparent skinship.

Their friends have arrived, their food has been served and they are halfway through dinner, making small-talk or in some cases—if Namjoon leaning across the table to bore into Seokjin’s eyes is any indication—asking soul-deep, philosophical questions.

Yoongi is squished into a comfortable corner by Hoseok, and Seokjin sits beside him, right across a rectangular table from Namjoon who is completely oblivious to the bumbling mess that has been made of Jimin to his left by Taehyung.

Currently, Yoongi is holding himself back from leaning completely against the back of his seat because Hoseok’s arm is draped across its top, the back of his fingers pressed against the wall that frames Yoongi on his right side.

To lean back would be to quite literally lean into his half-embrace and Yoongi doesn’t want the others to misinterpret their position.

Which reminds him of how Hoseok had practically latched onto him like a koala bear just as soon as Yoongi had accelerated his motorcycle.

As if the clinging grip hadn’t been enough, Yoongi had felt his face go up in flames inside the helmet when he felt two hands slip into his jacket pockets, his palms forming two large areas Yoongi was all too aware of against his abdomen. He had quickly explained that away as Hoseok wanting to keep his fingers warm. After all, Yoongi was wearing gloves so that the searing cold won’t freeze his digits off.

But it was a difficult ride, mostly because it was so distracting to be practically engulfed by Hoseok from the back. The bike’s body made it impossible for the pillion rider to not lean onto the driver and with Hoseok’s hands toasty warm inside Yoongi’s jacket pockets, they were pressed chest to back against each other for the entirety of the ride.

The warmth of his person had been…comforting, Yoongi realizes with a jolt.

But he remembers laughing his head off at Hoseok’s exhilarated screams as he raced even harder, zigzagging swiftly through late night traffic just to scare him.

He chuckles faintly at the memory of Hoseok’s obnoxious howls turning heads on the pavement all the way to the restaurant.

“What are you laughing at?” Hoseok asks softly, a curious smile on his face as his eyes rove over Yoongi’s features and Yoongi’s smile slips off his face at that.

“Nothing,” he mutters quickly and busies himself with the food in front of him.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Hoseok pouts, the man actually pouts and Yoongi uses all of his willpower to not let his eyes linger on those lips.

“I like it when you smile,” he whispers with a smile of his own, on noticing which, Yoongi promptly chokes on his last morsel and begins to hack his lungs out.

But of course, that’s when everybody at their table chooses to shower Yoongi with mute attention as Hoseok thumps him on his back and directs his chin upwards with two fingertips as his body jerks violently to either get rid of or swallow down that darn piece of cabbage.

“I’m fine,” he chokes out hoarsely and directs a weak glare at Taehyung who has gone red while trying to stifle his laughter.

At least Jimin and Jin, bless the men, look concerned while Namjoon is just gaping at him.

Yoongi is taken aback when Hoseok lifts up a glass of water to his lips and Yoongi can practically feel his cheeks heat up when he obliges and sips at the water, hands folded uselessly in his lap.

“Slowly, now,” Hoseok murmurs, his hand rubbing in lazy circles on Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi notices Taehyung smirking at Hoseok across from him, a knowing glint in his eyes and he almost chokes again before he remembers to breathe after swallowing the water.

Yoongi dabs his fingers at the few drops of water that have dribbled down his chin before Hoseok can get those, too and sighs in relief.

“Are you alright?” Hoseok asks, eyes filled with intense concern and Yoongi feels like a child under that gaze as he nods without meeting the other’s eyes.

Before Hoseok can question the state of his respiratory system any further, however, Yoongi says, “So, Seokjinsshi. How do you know Taehyung?”

Yoongi smirks to himself when Taehyung’s eyes snap to look at him.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you about me?” Yoongi notes a trace of disappointment in those words and continues.

“Oh, no, he talks about you all the time. It’s just that he misses the finer details during all that gushing,” Yoongi smiles.

“Oh.”

Yoongi pointedly ignores the look of betrayal Taehyung shoots him before laughing loudly, sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Taehyungah, I wasn’t aware you talked to your friends about me,” Seokjin smiles and Yoongi can just tell that it’s sincere and oh God, was Taehyung turning pink?

“Ah haha, hyung, just ignore him,” Taehyung says, grinning wide and waving his hand about in a vague gesture.

“I’m an assistant teacher at a private acting academy. We work in association with the drama clubs of a few colleges and universities—passing on new recruits to the big names of the South Korean film and drama industry after training them. We were holding auditions for fresh talent at Taehyung’s college when I found him.”

Yoongi sees Namjoon’s entire attention focused on Seokjin with an eerie intensity whereas Hoseok is just nodding along.

“So, what do you major in?” Namjoon asks and Yoongi wonders just what those two had been talking about in the car ride and their entire time here if that question hadn’t come up until now.

“Oh, I’m from the Department of Acting in Korea National University of Arts. I’m nearing graduation now!”

Hoseok whistles in admiration and Namjoon just looks even more goggle-eyed than earlier while Jimin’s soft words of praise goes unheard by them all.

“Did I tell you how great you were at the audition, Taehyungah? I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” Seokjin sighs and Taehyung promptly turns three shades darker.

“You never fail to remind me, hyung,” he murmurs, eyes downcast and lips set in a smile that Yoongi has never seen before.

With dawning horror, Yoongi realizes, that the smile that has graced Taehyung’s features is a shy one.

“Eager to learn, eager to please. Such potential,” Seokjin sighs, shaking his head.

Time to move on, Yoongi thinks, and turns to Jimin instead.

“And Jiminsshi, how do you know Taehyung?” He asks, fingers splayed out to gesture at the boy in question.

Jimin starts, clearly not having expected the question and speaks slowly, eyeing a dazed Taehyung out of the corner of his eyes bashfully.

“I am actually in his class.”

Seokjin gasps, ignoring the five heads that snap towards him at such dramatics and slaps the table lightly. “Taehyungah, how could you not have recognized your classmate?”

Jimin is quick to defend him, hands waving around as if to placate Seokjin.

“No, it’s not his fault. He is hardly ever in class as he is so busy with all of his drama club activities. Besides…I’m really not that noticeable.”

“Oh please, Jiminnie, don’t downplay yourself,” Hoseok pipes in around a mouth full of food. “You could turn a straight man gay. You almost got me there.”

Yoongi barely has any time to focus on that pet name and Hoseok’s words—got me what—before Taehyung makes a rather loud, emphatic declaration.

“I’M NOT STRAIGHT!”

Five heads snap to look at Taehyung this time and Yoongi is sure that half the restaurant is eyeballing him, too.

There is a long, baffled silence during which Taehyung’s eyes flit nervously between an alarmed Jimin and a speechless Jin, and Yoongi swears he can hear crickets chirping.

“How is that news?” Namjoon squints, fork paused halfway to his mouth.

“I’m not surprised,” Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back only to feel the length of Hoseok’s arm before he bobs right up like a Bobo doll.

“Check, please!”

Yoongi thinks he has blushed far too much for tonight already. It is unnatural and out of character for him and makes him look like a naïve school boy and he doesn’t want any more of that.

So when they exit the restaurant, he makes up his mind to stick to Namjoon’s side and keep Hoseok away until everybody goes their separate ways.

Unfortunately for him, Namjoon has other plans and the boy leaves him stranded, all by himself on the pavement outside the restaurant door as he continues his conversation with Seokjin right by the curb.

Seokjin is leaning against his car door, throwing back his head and laughing at something his roommate just said while Taehyung watches on with mute fascination.

When Jimin walks out the restaurant and comes to stand beside him, Yoongi shoots him an enquiring glance.

“Hoseok hyung is in the washroom,” he says and Yoongi frowns.

“I didn’t ask,” he shrugs, glaring at the back of Namjoon’s head.

“I thought you might want to know,” Jimin says and Yoongi looks at him sharply.

“You can ignore everything he said back there,” he continues, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the restaurant with a sheepish smile. “Hyung has a tendency to speak in hyperbole.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi’s words are blunt and a tad bit sharper than he intends them to be.

Yoongi feels a sliver of guilt when Jimin immediately ducks his head, his tone apologetic.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, Min Yoongisshi. I just thought you should know,” he says. “Hoseok hyung talks about you a lot. Says he smiles a lot more these days,” Jimin adds what sounds to Yoongi like a peace offering.

He raises his eyebrows and glances at the pavement by Jimin’s feet with disinterest.

“Taehyung is a chocolate maniac,” he mentions, crossing his arms and looks up at Jimin.

The boy’s face lights up instantly, eyes turning into crescents and cheeks bunching up as he smiles wide.

“Truce?” He asks shyly, holding out a hand.

Yoongi takes it with a smirk of his own, noting how his hand almost swallows the other’s and shakes it firmly.

“I’ll be talking to you,” he points at Jimin and then crosses his arms again.

“I’ll ask Hoseok hyung to text you my number,” he says over his shoulder in a sing-song voice as he walks towards Taehyung.

Yoongi finds his mouth grinning despite himself and quickly flexes his jaw to keep his lips in check.

“I see my Jimin sold me out for information,” he hears that familiar, gravelly voice and it sounds deeper now, as if Hoseok were exhausted.

Yoongi doesn’t turn around because he feels his lips twitching again which triggers a memory.

I like it when you smile

And darn it, there goes his blood rushing up his neck again. Yoongi gives up with a huff and lets his head drop in resignation.

“It is not the child’s fault,” Yoongi speaks, his eyes shut. “I threatened him with his life.”

Yoongi’s eyes snap open when Hoseok laughs loudly at that, attracting attention of their friends as well as passers-by and Yoongi can’t help but stare.

It is a pretty sight. Hoseok’s head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and the grin is wider than ever before. He seems…happy.

Yoongi notices that Jimin has caught him staring and purses his lips, elbowing Hoseok in the side.

“It wasn’t that funny,” he grumbles.

“Oh, but it was. Have you ever considered acting?” Hoseok asks, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes.

“Have you ever considered shutting up?” Yoongi retorts and instantly regrets it, peeking at Hoseok to see if he was offended.

He’s pleasantly surprised to find the boy trying to stifle his laughter into his fist.

“You’re very…”

“Charming?” Hoseok raises a suave eyebrow.

“Giggly.”

“Giggly?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes and takes two steps into Yoongi’s personal space and he tries hard not to lean back when the boy towers over him.

“And you, my boy, are a signal.”

Yoongi makes a face.

“It’s like you are telling me to ‘stop’ whenever…” Hoseok’s eyes gleam mischievously. “I do something like this.”

The backs of his fingers rise to his cheek and before Yoongi can even blink, Hoseok strokes the length of his face, from cheekbone to jaw line.

A lot of things happen at once.

Yoongi notes the warmth in Hoseok’s eyes, flushes deeper than he thought was humanly possible and startles at the same time when Namjoon hoots and Taehyung wolf-whistles at them, Seokjin’s strange laugh and Jimin’s giggles encouraging the two bastards.

“There it is,” Hoseok murmurs with a soft smile and Yoongi blinks rapidly before stepping away from him.

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets with some annoyance, hunching over himself.

“Come on, hyung. Let’s leave before Jung Hoseok molests you any further,” calls Namjoon as he walks to them and Hoseok guffaws before punching Namjoon on the shoulder lightly.

And that’s how their night ends, Yoongi racing to go back to their dorm room at full throttle while Namjoon clings onto him for dear life, cursing like a sailor.

Chapter Text

“His laugh sounds like someone’s washing a window,” Yoongi speaks up in the quiet of their room.

Night has fallen outside their window, curtains wide open to make the four walls seem a bit more spacious and Yoongi is staring out of it, deep in thought when Seokjin’s laugh rudely intrudes on his mind.

“Huh?” Namjoon makes a lazy sound from his desk where he is hunched over his Sanskrit dictionary. Yoongi still doesn’t understand why he is studying the language when the course isn’t even available in their college. He doesn’t bring it up however. He still remembers the last time he had questioned the use of that dead language all too well.

“I didn’t realize it that day when Seokjinsshi laughed.  But now I remember,” Yoongi adds to help jog his roommate’s memory.

“Oh. Hyung! Don’t insult my man,” Namjoon protests, looking up from his book with a deep-set frown.

“Your man?” Yoongi sniggers. “Are you even sure he’s into guys?”

“Did you not notice how he was talking to Taehyung that day or were you too busy enjoying Hoseok’s backrubs?” Namjoon’s eyebrow rises over the rim of his black-framed glasses.

“Yah! Shouldn’t you be discouraged by that?”Yoongi asks, genuinely worried about this insane guy.

“I am actually going to take that as a positive sign and work towards it. Besides, I am counting on Jiminnie to deal with Taehyung.”

“You sound like you’ve hired him to assassinate the child. Aren’t you too selfish a hyung to be hitting on the love of your dongsaeng’s life?”

“Hyung, he’s not in love,” Namjoon emphasizes in English.

“Did you not see the way Taehyung was making heart eyes at Seokjin or were you too busy drowning in Seokjin’s eyes?”

“…”

“…”

“Fair enough. Just text me Jimin’s number when you get it. I have to make a plan of action,” Namjoon shrugs with one shoulder and focuses on a Sanskrit textbook this time. The boy had it shipped over all the way from India. Yoongi would admire his passion If he weren’t a little scared by it.

“Oh please, you aren’t even a man of action. What did you ask Seokjin yesterday? His favourite philosophers?” Yoongi is having fun with this. He can’t imagine Kim Nam Joon flirting with a human being. The only thing he flirts with on a daily basis are his chances of getting a fatal injury.

“His favourite foods, actually. He’s quite the foodie. He even has a meokbang on YouTube,” he grins, dimpled cheeks bunching up.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. That hardly counts as a move,” Yoongi eyes him with disdain, dropping his head on the back of the chair.

“You are the one to talk, hyung. Whenever Hoseok even breathes within a three mile radius of you, you explode like a volcano.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi snaps at him, highly displeased that Namjoon had also made that observation. “How did you get so close so quickly to him anyway? Did he let you drop honorifics or are you just having your way.”

“Oh…is hyung jealous? You should consider yourself lucky I only asked for his number that day at the music department and not for lunch.”

“You asked for his number?” Yoongi snaps his head up.

“Yeah, why not? The guy’s great. We have quite a lot of things in common. He wanted me to teach him how to rap.”

“He wanted you to teach him how to rap. Why didn’t he just ask me?”

“You didn’t even know he likes to rap until my last statement, hyung,” Namjoon deadpans.

Namjoon has a point but Yoongi hardly wants to admit that.

“Oh, talk of the devil,” Namjoon smiles at his vibrating phone and quickly types out a reply.

“He says Jimin is getting antsy. Wants me to find out when Taehyung’s next performance is.”

“That’s zero progress for you,” Yoongi smirks, letting his neck relax and rests his head again. “If Taehyung and Jimin were communicating, the boy would have told him already.”

“Oh Taehyung did tell him about an upcoming performance they are rehearsing for these days. It’s a work in progress but he didn’t tell him the tentative when or where. Said it was too racy for a guy like Jimin,” Namjoon chuckles.

“Racy?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows, letting his eyes fall shut.

“This has presented me with a golden opportunity to finally contact Seokjin.”

“You haven’t even texted him yet? What are you waiting for? TaeJin to have babies?”

“Shut up, hyung. I didn’t want to seem too desperate.”

Yoongi scowls at how easily Namjoon uses hyung and shut up in the same sentence.

“But you are desperate.”

“That’s for you to know and me to be. He can’t see that side of me,” Namjoon bites his lip, typing furiously before pausing and deleting the text. “Yet.”

Yoongi knows that’s wise of Namjoon. Why scare off the new guy so early in the game?

“Well, then, Kim Seok Jin is going to be in for a rather unpleasant surprise.”

“And Jung Ho Seok is in for a blushing virgin on wedding night.”

Yoongi throws the notebook in his lap in Namjoon’s general direction, eyes still closed.

“AH!”

Yoongi smiles.

“Yoongisshi?”

Yoongi turns around at the sound of his name reflexively before the familiarity of the voice even registers with him.

“Ah, Park Jiminsshi, what are you doing on this side of the campus?” He raises an eyebrow, waiting as Jimin approaches him.

The junior college campus was on the other side of the main campus and juniors—especially the ones who had already finished a year as well as exploration of all the grounds along with it—hardly ever walked all the way over.

“Hoseok hyung wanted to see me for lunch at one of the canteens here,” Jimin smiles.

Yoongi nods and asks, “Are you going this way?”

Jimin answers by falling into step beside him.

“Would you care to join us? I am sure hyung won’t mind,” the younger one asks, pulling the straps of his backpack closer together and eyes his feet.

Yoongi remembers that habit with a certain fondness he only reserves for younger people who make him nostalgic. Granted, Jimin is just two years younger than him, but then again, Yoongi was altogether a different person two years ago.

“It’s alright, I grabbed a snack already. I have to head to the lab and catch up on pending practical work.”

Jimin simply nods and Yoongi wonders if he is disappointed because he doesn’t try to make conversation with him for quite a few minutes.

He hasn’t been able to talk to Hoseok in the last week, work keeping them both busy and their interaction limited to their discussions in fifty minutes worth of English class. He hadn’t texted him either, having nothing in particular he wanted to say to him. The last time he had had a solid conversation with the man had been at the dinner on Sunday night and he had last seen him in English on Thursday.

Yoongi feels a little better at the fact that it is Saturday already, wishing their practicals would finish early this afternoon because he just wanted some quality shut-eye already.

When they are finally nearing the canteen, Yoongi jabs a thumb in the general direction of his department building far off and says, “I’ll get going then.”

“Min Yoongisshi,” Jimin suddenly says, and Yoongi stops in his tracks, eyeing the boy curiously.

“Yes?” He urges when Jimin doesn’t say anything.

The boy sighs heavily and walks closer to him, stopping right outside the boundary of Yoongi’s personal space—which he is thankful for. At least this one doesn’t have a tendency of challenging his self-control by stepping in too close like someone else Yoongi knows.

“Taehyung is going to bring a friend over at our place this evening,” he begins and Yoongi’s eyebrows rise up on their own. He knew Taehyung was fast at befriending and practically clinging onto people he took a liking to. But seeing as Jimin had dropped honorifics within barely a week of knowing him and Taehyung was not only inviting himself over to Jimin’s apartment but also a friend was—even by Taehyung’s standards—rather fast.

“We are just going to play board games, cards, the like, you know. He said I must meet this boy,” Jimin shrugs and smiles and then continues. “Would you also like to come?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes and then parts his lips.

“I’m sure Hoseok hyung won’t mind. You can also bring work, if you wish. Besides it is my place, too. I can invite my friends,” he raises his chin, interrupting whatever thought process Yoongi was attempting to go through.

Then his cheeks colour.

“I mean I—I would like to get to know you better, too,” he murmurs softly, scuffing the dirt with his shoe.

Yoongi blinks at that, unsure of how to proceed when his only excuse to avoid excessive social interaction had been ‘Hoseok hasn’t invited me.’

He is actually surprised the boy read his mind. But he can see Jimin get visibly uncomfortable and flustered, and before the boy can get any more honest with Yoongi in broad daylight, Yoongi gives in.

“Alright.”

Jimin’s head snaps right up to look at him with undisguised joy.

“Really?!”

Yoongi lifts a corner of his lips to reassure the boy and mutters, “Text me the address. Ah wait, you don’t have my number, do you?”

“Uh actually…I took it from Hoseok hyung,” he admits sheepishly.

“And you didn’t text?” Yoongi cants his head, utterly confused.

“I just didn’t know what to say,” Jimin says in a meek voice and Yoongi sighs, realizing how shy this kid actually is.

“I’ll text you our address and the time,” he adds hurriedly, as if to cover up his last admission.

Yoongi nods and turns away to leave but stops for a moment.

“Hey kid,” he calls out to Jimin who is already a few paces away from him. When the boy starts and turns around to face him, Yoongi continues.

“Just say hi, yeah?” Yoongi smirks and watches Jimin’s fair cheeks flush once again, chuckling to himself as the boy nods vigorously.

Shaking his head, Yoongi begins to walk to his department, distantly looking forward to the evening.

Yoongi thinks he could legit get high on the smile that greets him at the door to Jimin’s flat a few seconds after ringing the doorbell.

Hoseok is beaming at him as if Yoongi is his favourite person in the world and he feels a little uncomfortable under the sheer intensity of that gaze so he averts his eyes, bowing slightly in greeting.

“Hoseoksshi,” He murmurs, bracing himself before meeting the man’s gaze again.

“Yoongisshi,” Hoseok responds and his grin hasn’t wavered in the slightest so Yoongi just clears his throat and asks.

“May I…come in?”

Hoseok barks loudly in his usual way and Yoongi hides his wince in what he hopes looks like a smile. He will have to get used to Hoseok’s style of laughter, he supposes.

“Ah, ye! Come in, please,” he responds, holding the door open and closes it once Yoongi steps over the threshold.

“You’ll just have to walk around barefoot.  I’m sorry but two of our guests have already claimed the spare slippers,” Hoseok smiles without sounding the least bit apologetic and Yoongi shrugs, toeing his shoes off by the shoe rack.

He pulls off his socks, tucks them into his shoes and places them neatly on a shelf in the rack before wiping his feet on the welcome mat.

Hoseok places a hand on his shoulder and murmurs, “I must say, this is quite a pleasant surprise.”

Yoongi squints, frowns and then feels mortified.  But of course, it doesn’t show.

“You weren’t expecting me? I thought Jimin told you.”

This time, it is Hoseok’s turn to look befuddled.

But before either of them can say anything, Yoongi hears a familiar voice call out, even louder than Hoseok’s laugh.

“Hyung, is that the jjajangmyeon?”

Yoongi scowls instantly. Just great, now Taehyung was chummy with his friend, too.

The moment Hoseok turns to face him, Yoongi forces his face into what passes for nonchalance and shrugs.

He places a finger on his lips and winks at Yoongi whose only reaction is to blink dumbly at that.

Hoseok beckons to him with long, delicate fingers, notes Yoongi who has been staring at his fingers ever since they were brought to his attention against the startling background of his lips, and begins to walk through a dark hallway on the left.

A room at the end of the hallway has a door left ajar and Hoseok motions him to stay back and away from the line of sight of its inhabitants before leaning against the doorway.

“Say, Jiminah,” he begins in a mock-curious tone.

“What is it, Hoseokie hyung?” Comes the voice of his actual inviter.

Hoseokie hyung? Hoseokie hyung?

The hyung in question however doesn’t notice how Yoongi’s mouth twitches in annoyance at all the pet names being thrown around and Yoongi is glad because when has that ever bothered him before.

“You didn’t tell me we were expecting another one of your friends.”

Yoongi doesn’t see it since Hoseok leaning against the doorjamb means his back is turned to him but he hears the smirk in his voice.

But then he freezes when Hoseok makes a grab for his hand without facing him, and Yoongi raises his wrist enough so that it bumps against the hand before its fingers encircle his wrist, gently tugging him towards and through the open door with a smile on his face.

“Guess who,” Hoseok beams at Jimin and Yoongi would react to that with a scowl or something if he weren’t too busy staring at the other boy sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Jungkook?”

“Hyung!”

“You wanted to introduce Jungkook to Jiminsshi?”

“Wait, you two know each other?”

“Hyung, what are you doing here?!”

“You didn’t tell him either?”

“I just—”

“What are you doing here?”

“He brought me here.”

“Wait, how do you two know each other?”

“Taehyung!”

“I just wanted it to be a surprise!”

“I like your surprise!” Hoseok interrupts loudly and their car crash of a conversation comes to a stuttering halt, punctuated by Taehyung’s obnoxious sniggers.

Yoongi just looks at Hoseok, dumbfounded and Hoseok stares back.

“Hyung.”

They both turn to look at Taehyung.

“Yoongi hyung isn’t going to run away, you know,” he says pointedly and Yoongi knows he’s supposed to be insinuating something with the way Jimin whispers “Yah!” and gives him a slight shove and in the way Jungkook’s eyes go round and he starts fiddling with his shorts but Yoongi doesn’t quite catch it till Hoseok laughs and holds their linked hands up.

“Oh this? I was fully intending to do this,” he says and turns around and walks straight out the door, dragging a particularly slow Yoongi with him.

“We will be in the living room if you need us,” he calls over his shoulder and Yoongi feels the urge to bury his face in his hands when he hears giggles behind them.

They come to a stop in a Spartan room, totally empty except for a bean bag chair drooping in a corner, a stereo and a rugged looking couch against another corner with throw pillows on it.

“Well,” Hoseok begins and Yoongi nods.

But he doesn’t continue into a sentence so Yoongi is left impersonating a bobble head.

“Uh…” he tries and Hoseok just cants his head.

“Um—my arm?”

The digits quickly retract and he watches in mute fascination for the first time in their entire acquaintance as the softest of pinks dusts Hoseok’s cheeks.

He likes that look on him, Yoongi immediately decides. He wants to see more of it.

Yoongi swallows the thought away and grabs his backpack off his shoulder, unzipping it to pull out a bag full of bottles of soju.

“I didn’t know a kid was over,” he offers as explanation before passing it into a surprised Hoseok’s arms.

“Well, we will just bar him from having any,” Hoseok grins and Yoongi chuckles at the clever wording before dropping his backpack at the foot of the couch and settling on it.

Hoseok goes to the open kitchen to refrigerate the bottles until it’s time to drink and Yoongi takes the time to actually take in the apartment.

“So, two bedrooms and a combined hall-kitchen, huh?” He summarizes and Hoseok just nods, carrying a tray full of snacks back into the living room area.

“Not bad for two teenagers,” Yoongi mutters and quickly clears the small, low-set table by the couch to make space for the food Hoseok has brought.

He sets the tray down and takes a seat on the other end of the couch.

“Yup. The common bathroom just makes life difficult sometimes,” Hoseok grins and Yoongi concedes with a snort, helping himself to the chips.

“So, how do you know Big Eyes?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at the nickname and answers, “Through Taehyung. Taehyung on the other hand met him through a friend of a friend and hasn’t left the poor soul alone ever since.”

Hoseok snickers at that, nodding along as if in agreement with Taehyung’s clingy tendencies.

“I wouldn’t blame the kid. Taehyung’s such a charmer that he is difficult to get rid of. He has that kicked puppy vibe if you dare to upset him.”

“Yeah, I agree. The one time I asked him to politely shut up, I thought he was going to burst into tears in the middle of the street. That was the first and last time.”

“Haha! Awh, has Kim Taehyung managed to turn Min Yoongisshi into a handsome prince with a heart?”

“What fairytale is—are you calling me a beast?” Of course, it doesn't escape Yoongi's notice that Hoseok just called him handsome.

“What? No! Of course not.”

Yoongi gasps, channeling his inner Taehyung.

“Are you calling me a frog?”

“Well,” Hoseok bites his bottom lip, fighting to keep a straight face, probably holding back a laugh and Yoongi fights to keep his eyes away from his mouth.

Yoongi knows that this is his cue to laugh but he ends up staring instead.

Hoseok’s lip slips out from under his teeth slowly, grin fading, too and Yoongi thinks he should say something—anything to keep this from getting weird but it has and now he is panicking internally as Hoseok’s eyes flit between his.

“Hyung, Taehyung is hardly a princess.”

They both start at the delicate voice and Yoongi squirms in place, shaking his head as subtly as possible to snap out of it.

“Ah, you are right, Jiminnie. That role suits you better, doesn’t it?” Hoseok asks, raising a hand to smack his butt that Jimin dodges, quick on his feet and dances away from it, dropping into the bean bag chair across from them.

“Well, you said it.”

“But what to do, Jiminah?” Hoseok suddenly sounds torn up and Yoongi would have applauded his theatrics if it hadn’t been for what he said next.

“This prince is already spoken for,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand that settles on his chest, gazing at Yoongi with melodramatic, glimmering eyes and Yoongi is so done with this shit that he drops all pretence and groans, dragging a palm over his face, hoping against hope that he doesn’t look too red.

Jimin giggles at the sound and says, “Yoongisshi, feel free to ignore my hyung.”

“Trust me, I am trying,” he assures the boy, ignoring the fake look of hurt Hoseok dons immediately.

“Jiminah, are you trying to steal my friend?” Hoseok asks all of a sudden, his voice conspiratorially low and eyes narrow.

“Ah, hyung!” Jimin protests, drawing out the word. “I invited him for you. I knew he’d cheer you up.”

Yoongi gapes. “Ah, so you mean you sold me a lie of wanting to get to know me better, Park Jiminsshi?”

“No, Yoongisshi!”

“So you are trying to steal my friend!” Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to gasp and he makes it even more dramatic, a hand flying to cover his mouth.

Jimin tries and fails to speak, giggles taking over his small frame and that’s when Taehyung comes bounding into the room.

“Jiminah! What’s taking so long?!”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Taehyung’s way of addressing Jimin and sighs.

“I swear, I taught him better manners than that,” he mutters, turning to Hoseok who just chuckles in response.

Jimin, he notes, just blushes and lets Taehyung take his hand.

“Hyung, come on,” Taehyung corrects himself cheekily and draws Jimin closer.

“I’ll be stealing him away now, hyungdeul.”

It’s once they leave the room that Yoongi turns to Hoseok.

“They’re both whipped, aren’t they?”

“Yes but…”

Yoongi feels his eyebrows draw together. “But?”

“Well, it isn’t quite like that…if you get what I’m saying? They’re just fast friends, you could say.”

“Doesn’t look like that from where I’m standing.”

Hoseok shrugs and then smirks. “You wanna play video games?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Yoongi chuckles.

“Come on then!” Hoseok jumps to his feet, gesturing at Yoongi to follow him and Yoongi does just that.

“You have a cozy room,” Yoongi notes upon walking in.

Hoseok hums in response as he boots up his laptop, and a second one that Yoongi presumes is Jimin’s.

Yoongi walks closer to inspect the things on the desk in the far corner, opposite to the double bed.

A couple of greeting cards catch his eye, dusted with glitter and adorned with cutesy ribbons. Other things, probably his college work, lay scattered on the desk—files, folders, loose papers and stray pens, a stack of large books. A small notebook lies in one corner, the cover a soothing teal blue. He sees photo frames filled with pictures of people who he assumes are Hoseok's parents, his pet dog and a girl appearing in all the pictures.

“That’s my eomma, appa and Dawon noona,” comes Hoseok’s voice from where he is sat on the bed cross-legged.

Yoongi walks to Hoseok and takes his place on the bed beside him.

He hasn’t missed the wistful tone of his voice.

“Was Jimin referring to them when he said he wanted to cheer you up?”

Hoseok looks up from the laptop, eyes wide.

“How did you know?” He breathes.

“Genius, remember?” Yoongi just smirks and shrugs, making Hoseok huff.

“Yeah. I just get really homesick, you know?”

“Homesick. Yeah.”

It’s late into the night, way past their jjajangmyeon dinner and Hoseok had made the grave mistake of adding six packs to Yoongi’s limited amount of soju because the kids wanted to join them in drinking.

And as a result, Jungkook is now squished between a light-weight Jimin and an equally drunk Taehyung.

While Jimin just leans against the wall, occasionally hiccupping and giggling at nothing in particular, Taehyung just gets really…touchy.

He pats Jungkook on the head, the hand sliding down to Jungkook’s face where it stays until it hinders Jungkook’s breathing and he has to gently pry it off his nose and mouth.

“Hyung,” he mutters, placing Taehyung’s hand back in his lap.

It is all to no avail.

The hand just finds him again, curling around his neck this time as he sighs and tries not to squirm when it tickles while Yoongi and Hoseok lean against the back of the couch, and each other, watching on at the free entertainment with some interest. Yoongi’s legs are slowly going numb where they are tucked under him on the couch seat so he stretches them out. Hoseok copies his movements, except instead of stretching them out in front of him, he leans with his back against Yoongi’s side and throws his legs over the armrest of the couch.

“How long until Jungkooksshi snaps?” Hoseok asks conversationally without taking his eyes off the three in front of him and Yoongi just shakes his head.

“He won’t. It’s Jungkook. He doesn’t snap at Tae.”

They hear him let out another exasperated sigh when Taehyung’s clumsy fingers card through Jungkook’s hair but get stuck instead and he almost tears his hair out in the process of untangling the mess.

Yoongi hears Hoseok snigger quietly, sipping his drink with leisure.

And then they have the pleasure of watching Jungkook’s naturally wide eyes go even wider and—this is Yoongi’s favourite part—he begins to resemble a rather alarmed tomato.

Taehyung’s nose is buried in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, his hand across Jungkook’s middle holding him in place.

The clingier of the two begins to laugh like a…well, like a particularly retarded pervert, to be completely honest, and Jungkook goes even redder in the face if possible.

“Hyung, aren’t you staying the night, too?” Comes his strained question and Yoongi isn’t even embarrassed to have been caught staring.

“Yes, hyung! Stay…” Jimin giggles and trails off and Yoongi eyes him with a lazy frown. He wants to point out how they are most certainly not that close yet. He has but met the kid only twice, excluding tonight and it didn’t warrant such a—such a fond ‘hyung’ from his pouty lips but he lets it slide, rubbing his chest at the warmth blooming in it. Yoongi should probably stop drinking if it is starting to burn his insides, he muses.

“Nah, I prefer my own bed on a Saturday night,” he replies.

“But hyung, you just had a lot of soju,” Jungkook points out, eyeing the empty green bottles lying about in the living room, going stiffer by the second as Taehyung just begins to drill into his side, slowly sending Jungkook teetering into Jimin’s side.

Hoseok and Yoongi share a glance. This close, Yoongi can see Hoseok’s dark eyes very, very clearly. But that wasn’t the point.

Now Yoongi was hardly a lightweight, having his wits about him even when he drinks but he considers what kind of example he would be setting if he were to walk out right now and drive back to his dorm.

He couldn’t raise Jungkook that way. No, no.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome,” Yoongi murmurs, looking into his half-full glass.

“You won’t be imposing, Yoongisshi,” comes Hoseok’s whispered reply, a slight tipsy smile on his face that looks pretty even at that upside-down angle.

“I guess I won’t be going after all, Jungkookah,” he raises his glass at the boy and sighs at the sight.

Taehyung has flopped across Jungkook’s lap, making a vague sound of joy when he realizes that Jimin has been sitting on his best friend’s other side all this time.

“Chim—Chimah,” he mumbles, eyes shining and lips stretched into a smile that could contest derp on his best days.

Hoseok and Yoongi share another glance at the increasing amount of familiarity Taehyung is exhibiting towards Jimin, who doesn’t seem even remotely offended at the gooey nickname.

The boy in question just giggles yet again but his smile is wiped off his face in a comically slow manner when Taehyung flails like a fish on Jungkook’s lap, raises his torso with his hands bracing his weight against the ground and kisses Jimin with a loud smack right on his cheek.

They all watch what happens next as If it were in slow motion.

Jimin hiccups, Taehyung giggles and Jungkook looks mortified when his best friend loses muscle control of his arms and falls, face planting in Jimin’s lap. Jimin turns red as a beetroot, Jungkook as red as a—well, Yoongi has run out of comparisons, he just turns really red and if he squints, he can see the back of Taehyung’s neck flush a faint pink.

So basically all of them are blushing, yeah.

Even Hoseok, for some reason. But maybe that’s just the alcohol.

Taehyung mumbles something, his voice muffled since he was practically speaking against Jimin’s thighs and that’s when they snap.

“Alright!” Hoseok puts his glass away and claps his hands together, making Yoongi’s ears ring. “Come on, now, kids.”

“Yes. We’re done for the night,” Yoongi agrees, getting up and off the couch to go pull Taehyung off a squirmy Jimin and a Jungkook who looks like he just wants to melt into the floor. He hooks his hands underneath Taehyung’s armpits and heaves him up, grunting at the effort. Taehyung leans against him like a deadweight, his head lolling on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Jungkook, go pick your side of the bed. We’re bringing these two sacks in,” Hoseok nods his head towards the hallway, rubbing his hands together.

Jungkook scrambles off the floor, now free of Taehyung’s weight and almost bolts to Jimin’s room.

Yoongi chuckles, tightening his grip on Taehyung who turns around to throw his arms loosely around his hyung’s neck while Yoongi waits to see if Hoseok needs his assistance.

Jimin raises his arms at Hoseok, making grabby little fists as if he were a 3 year old and Hoseok sighs, leaning down to pull Jimin to his feet.

Jimin has other plans however and he mumbles into Hoseok’s chest, “Hyung, carry me to bed.”

Yoongi and Taehyung both blink hard and then squint at Jimin who is—and yes Yoongi  trusts his vision—making googly eyes up at Hoseok, batting his eyelashes with a drunken smile.

This time, Yoongi and Taehyung share a glance and then they stare mutely after a Hoseok who sighs, picks up Jimin in one swift motion and carries him to his bedroom bridal style. They hear Jimin’s squeals accompanied with Hoseok’s laughter for about four seconds and then there’s total silence.

“Owah…” Taehyung whispers in awe.

Yoongi nods in agreement. He has to admit, it is a bit hot.

Yoongi closes Taehyung’s mouth by gently pushing his jaw back in place.

“Hyung,” Taehyung begins, smiling in that way of his.

“Nope.”

“But I didn’t even say—”

“Nope. I know exactly what you were going to ask. Now come on.”

By the time Yoongi has dragged a sulking Taehyung’s weight to Jimin’s bedroom, they find Hoseok has already tucked his roommate in, Jungkook having sprawled his form smack-dab in the middle of the bed.

Yoongi senses jealousy in the air.

He drags Taehyung to the only empty side of the bed, leaving him to snuggle into Jungkook who seems pleased at the attention.

Jimin, on his other side also turns to face Jungkook, throwing an arm across both of his friends and Jungkook looks like a deer in the headlights once again.

Yoongi leans against the doorjamb, watching Hoseok as he gently brushes Jimin’s hair off his forehead before placing a kiss on it.

Jimin hums in sleepy appreciation and Taehyung instantly lights up.

“Hyung!” He whispers to Yoongi, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Nope,” Yoongi enunciates, stretches out his arm to the switchboard on the wall by the door and promptly flips the light switch off.

He hears Hoseok’s exhausted laughter follow him to the living room and he swivels around, holding up a hand to keep him from coming any further.

“You can go wash up. I’ll take care of the mess here,” he says.

“But, Yoongisshi, you are the guest. I couldn’t possibly—”

“I’m not hearing any of it,” Yoongi shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“But—”

“Tsk tsk.”

“Yoongisshi!”

“Just go.”

Hoseok gives up protesting, throws him a faint, grateful smile before he turns around and walks into his bedroom to prepare for the night.

Yoongi sighs and begins to clean up the living room, picking up all the empty bottles before stuffing them in a lone plastic bag carefully and placing it to the side.

He picks up the used glasses and puts them in the kitchen sink, and begins to wash them.

“I’ve kept a set of clothes for you on my bed,” he hears Hoseok call before the bathroom door closes.

Yoongi finishes up with the glasses, rinsing them before placing them on the rack to dry and then spots a broom in a corner and starts with the cleanup of the entire room.

Once he is done sweeping up all the random bits of soju labels, broken chips and empty packets of snacks, he stretches, checks whether the main door is bolted and then switches off the lights.

He sighs in the darkness, stopping in his tracks midway to the bedroom when he spots a half naked Hoseok holding a towel to his hair with another wrapped around his hips.

“Uh...”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow at Yoongi’s speechlessness and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll put on clothes. I just left the bathroom early so you could use it.”

And Yoongi is incredibly thankful for the darkness in the hallway because he is sure he is turning pink the longer Hoseok stands there with that smirk on his face.

Yoongi mutely enters the bedroom on his left, picking up the small stack of clothes and a towel and almost bumps into Hoseok on his way back out the door.

He steps to the side to let him pass but Hoseok mirrors his movement and Yoongi huffs before stepping to the other side but of course, Hoseok does the same thing.

Hoseok exhales heavily, stopping Yoongi’s shuffling with hands on his shoulders and he freezes under the touch.

Yoongi feels the weight of his palms weigh him down, standing his ground when Hoseok takes one step too close to him, engulfing him with warmth and the scent of body wash.

“Yoongisshi,” he says in a low voice, watching him intently.

He swallows and stares back with a little defiance but he knows it’s a mistake.

Long wet strands of hair have fallen into sharp eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion, minute droplets of water sitting round on pink lips and shining on defined collarbones, streaks of it trailing down his muscled torso, eventually soaking the towel wrapped around his hips.

He knows he has been caught staring when the droplets on the plush bottom lip disappear with the swipe of a tongue and Yoongi brings his eyes back to the steady gaze, almost challenging in their intensity.

Hoseok doesn’t say anything, simply rotates their positions so that Yoongi stands outside the bedroom door and lets his hands fall to his sides.

“I’ll be waiting,” he murmurs, gesturing towards the bathroom door with his hand and retreats into the bedroom.

Yoongi turns around without another word and doesn’t breathe until the bathroom door is locked behind him.

“God,” he groans, rubbing a hand across his forehead with his back against the door.

He can’t believe such a rainbows and sunshine boy has him—Min Yoon Gi— flustered.

But he’ll be damned if he lets it show.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, hyung!” Jimin greets him with a soft smile, walking towards their open kitchen through the hallway.

He stops right by the dining counter and stretches, raising his arms over his head and giving an adorable little yawn. Hoseok almost coos over him. Then he doesn’t understand why he’s hesitating and leans an arm over the counter to pull Jimin’s cheek.

“Aigoo, a good morning to you, too, Jiminnie.”

Jimin preens under the attention, eyes turning to pretty crescents, his cheeks bunching up further when he grins.

“I see someone’s trying to woo Yoongisshi,” he walks around the counter and comes to stand beside Hoseok, eyeing all the food he’s made as breakfast, voice high-pitched and loud in the silence of the morning. He smirks and winks up at Hoseok.

“Yah,” he hisses, dropping the spoon in his hand on the counter to cover the boy’s lips, the other hand coming around to cradle the back of his neck. “It’s nothing like that. Understood?”

“Unerstuf” Jimin giggles, his voice muffled by Hoseok’s palm, fists coming up to thump against Hoseok’s chest in mock defense. Hoseok holds his gaze just in case. He knows Jimin isn’t the kind of kid to go around blabbing to people but he needs to make sure nothing is said to Yoongi. He seems like the kind to be scared off easily.

“Ahem!”

Both Hoseok and Jimin startle and step away from each other at the clearing of a throat, and Hoseok turns around to give the person a sheepish smile.

His heart stutters at the sight of Yoongi and he watches in a daze as Jimin quickly hurries out of the kitchen corner, greets Yoongi and then leaves them both in the silence of the room.

Yoongi is dressed in his T-shirt, the comfy grey one softened due to use over the years. It’s quite long on his slight frame and it partially hides his shorts, his pale, slender legs showing.

“Take a seat!” Hoseok blurts out to pierce the steadily thickening silence and tries not to stare as Yoongi shuffles over and sits down on one of the stools by the counter.

“I hope you slept well. I made breakfast!” He announces with a flourish of his arm to indicate the copious amounts of food he prepared after waking up early.

Yoongi just blinks up at him and Hoseok sighs. With Yoongi’s bedhead and bleary eyes, the sight is utterly adorable.

“Is all of that for us?” He asks, his voice carrying the gruffness of early mornings.

Hoseok looks at the food and then laughs, the loud laugh that startles Yoongi, and says, “Of course not, silly. That’s for the kids, too.”

“Kids. Right,” he frowns in response.

“Shall we begin?” Hoseok grins.

They are sat across from each other, the breakfast served in a multitude of bowls on the counter, their chopsticks flying over them as they eat ravenously when Hoseok finally musters up the courage to bring it up: the question that has been nagging him since this morning.

“You don’t get homesick?”

Yoongi raises his eyes, chopsticks pausing in their search for food.

“You sounded a little—off yesterday. When I said I felt homesick.”

He had noticed but hadn’t registered the dull tone of Yoongi’s voice until much later. Until this morning when he was watching Yoongi sleep. Creepy, he admits, but the boy looked so peaceful, so utterly serene when he laid eyes on him that Hoseok couldn’t have looked away.

He had sighed and stilled when Yoongi had mumbled something in his sleep, his lips twitching, stretching and then stilling. Eyelashes fanned soft cheeks, their dark curve against pale skin looking more graceful than cherry blossom showers.

He had stopped his train of thought right there, rolling off the bed and getting to his feet before he started composing sonnets about Min Yoon Gi’s beauty.

Hoseok tries to hold his gaze and succeeds. But he wonders if it’s a win at all, looking at the way Yoongi’s eyes flicker and then look away.

He senses tension in the air, a vague aura of discomfort coming off Yoongi and realizes his mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice low and apologetic.

“What are you apologizing for?” Yoongi frowns.

“I didn’t mean to pry. I guess I was just concerned,” Hoseok tries a sheepish smile but it fades into something grimmer.

“You have no reason to be,” he mutters before continuing to eat and Hoseok knows he doesn’t mean it that way but it stings in spite of rational thought.

“Yeah.”

They eat in a silence which is close to comfortable. Hoseok is still fussing over his abrupt dismissal and it makes him anxious, ruining the breakfast he had so carefully prepared.

“I…it’s been too long since I had a home cooked meal. Thank you,” Yoongi murmurs, meeting his eyes and Hoseok’s anxious ramblings stutter to a halt inside his head.

Yoongi’s lips twitch in the semblance of a smile.

He knows that Yoongi means it as an apology for putting aside Hoseok’s concern in such a brusque manner earlier. And Hoseok gladly accepts it.

“Don’t mention it,” Hoseok grins in the warmest way he knows, quick to recover.

And as usual, he feels his grin morph into something softer when Yoongi’s cheeks take on the pink hue he has grown fond of.

“Hyungdeul!”  Taehyung practically skips into the living room and stops right at the end of the dining counter.

“Good morning!” He smiles at them, both hands framing his face with his elbows on the counter and eyes falling shut.

Hoseok stifles a laugh at how unimpressed Yoongi looks at Taehyung’s aegyo and says, “Taehyungah, come have breakfast. This hyung made lots! Call Jiminnie and Jungkooksshi, too.”

At his words, he straightens up, eyes going comically wide before he jumps Hoseok.

“Awh, hyung, you are the best!” Taehyung says, his cheek pressing against the top of Hoseok’s head and arms crushing the life out of him.

“Yes, alright. Now scat,” Yoongi glares at Taehyung and the younger boy just gives him a cheeky smile before running off.

“Thanks for that. You saved my life,” Hoseok makes a show of wiping a solitary tear away.

“Don’t mention it,” Yoongi responds with a flick of his chopsticks and Hoseok doesn’t stifle his laughter this time.

It’s half an hour later, the kids are playing games in Jimin’s room and Hoseok is sure Yoongi feels sated because of the heavy breakfast with the way he is settled lazily on the couch.

“I should leave before I doze off,” Yoongi mumbles, head lying on the backrest and eyes shut.

Hoseok chuckles, “But you woke up like an hour ago.”

“Fun fact about me: I love to sleep.”

“Mhm, I’ve noticed.”

Yoongi cracks an eye open. “I’ve never slept in front of you except last night.”

Hoseok puts his arm on the backrest and lets his head rest on his palm, smiling down at Yoongi.

“Yes, but I’ve seen you asleep in the library, the canteen, the bench by the main gate and the lawns, leaning against a tree.”

Yoongi lets his other eye open and stares up at Hoseok. “You’ve been stalking me.”

“Haha! I’ve done no such thing. It’s hard not to worry about a student falling asleep everywhere. I just noticed you lying around campus.”

“You worried about me…”

“Yes. Who wouldn’t? That one time on the bench, it was so sunny and you always look so pale, I thought you’d get a sunburn like that so I—”

“You were the one who put that newspaper on my face?”

Hoseok snickers into his palm, remembering the day quite fondly. “You didn’t even move when I did. Thought I might disturb you but not a twitch.”

“I woke up with a crick in my neck and a newspaper that slid off my face. Needless to say, I was worried for my safety.”

“Hey, I only meant well,” Hoseok defends himself and then sighs. “And then one day, you walked into English.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

There’s a moment of silence, both of them studying each other’s faces, thinking back to when they first met. Hoseok remembers his newfound courage in approaching the guy he’d never seen before in English, only ever on campus and his nervousness when handing over his phone to the boy.

There’s a beat and then Yoongi’s lips are curving into the softest of smiles and Hoseok finds his eyes admiring them.

“I should go,” the lips move to form words and Hoseok meets Yoongi’s eyes with a smile of his own and nods.

Yoongi picks up his backpack and heads into his bedroom to change.

Hoseok looks up when Yoongi walks out two minutes later with his bag slung over a shoulder, and raises his eyebrows questioningly at his own T-shirt that he is still wearing.

Yoongi just shrugs and Hoseok grins, walking him to the doorway.

While Yoongi is putting on his shoes, Hoseok rocks back and forth on his heels, biting his lip.

When Yoongi finally straightens up, Hoseok goes straight in for a goodbye hug, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders. Much to his disappointment but not surprise, he feels Yoongi tense up. But then a moment later, he feels two pats on his back and figures that maybe Yoongi was just someone who’d take some getting used to when it came to hugs.

He pulls back with a grin. “Bye, Yoongisshi. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

To his delight, Yoongi looks flustered- if the colour in his cheeks and the way he averts his eyes is anything to go by. He takes the boy’s mute nodding as an answer and holds the door for him, waving until he sees him round the corner to the stairs.

 Namjoonie

You move fast. I’m impressed.

What do you mean?

One week and you have the most unsociable Min Yoon Gi in your bed.

Yah! It’s not like that. XD

He came back wearing your shirt ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Hoseok can’t help but laugh at the emoticon, earning a curious look from Jimin across from him on the couch. He wonders how Namjoon even knew that they had slept in the same bed. He must have asked Yoongi, he concludes and then feels weird about it.

After all, how could he have let a guest take that ratty old couch when his bed was more than enough for two people? Eomma Jung had taught him better manners than that. Besides, Yoongi hadn’t even asked, walking right into the bedroom with Hoseok’s clothes on, bangs lying over his forehead in wet streaks of jet black, before lying down and tucking himself in snugly. Hoseok had been too slow to register that to say anything about it (not that he would have, he wanted Yoongi to sleep comfortably and didn’t mind sharing), still stuck having a flashback of that time when Yoongi had walked into class breathless with wet hair just like that, the white tee and faded jeans giving him an effortless, casual look. Hoseok remembers being startled on catching Yoongi’s gaze back then, hastily turning back to the teacher.

But then he thinks of the way Yoongi looked in his shirt last night, all delicate limbs and defined collarbones, pale skin and sharp eyes.

That he did. (~_^)

He hits send with a pleased smile.

Ah I should just show this to Yoongi hyung.

Yah! Hajima!

Whoops. Too late.

Hoseok laughs and then curses, his heart pounding in his chest. Why did he have to send that smug emoticon?

Yoongi ^-^

In retrospect, I should have just slept in my own clothes.

Hoseok bites his lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“Tell him he looked good in your clothes.”

Hoseok startles, turning to notice Jimin’s face right by his as he reads the text on his phone screen.

“What?” He breathes.

“Hyung, you don’t need to look so scared. I’ve been sitting here for the past five minutes. Just tell him he looked good.”

Hoseok frowns.

“Am I wrong?” Jimin asks, eyebrows raised.

Hoseok swallows and does as he is told.

But you looked good in my shirt :(

He bites his lip, hoping that Jimin had good judgement when it came to—when it came to what?

Wait a minute.

“Is this flirting?”

“Surely hyung, you’re more experienced than that,” Jimin cants his head pointedly and Hoseok ignores his implications. He hardly wanted to remember her right now.

“Did you just ask me to flirt at him?”

“At him? You’re flirting with him. And if you hadn’t realized hyung, you started this ever since you first met him,” Jimin points out with an unimpressed look on his face.

Hoseok flounders for a moment before muttering, “Yes, well, it’s at him because he’ll never reply.” He doesn’t know why he sounds so sure of it. Yoongi just doesn’t seem like the kind of person who—well, who enjoys human interaction let alone flirt with one.

Besides, he had hardly approached him with romantic intents. He had just wanted to befriend the boy. He had looked so much like the type of guy Hoseok would enjoy hanging out with. He had laid eyes on him once and taken a liking to him without any rhyme or reason. To this day, Hoseok has no idea why he took to Yoongi without even having known the boy.

His phone vibrates in his hands the very next moment however, the screen lighting up with a new message.

Hoseoksshi, you are walking a fine line.

Jimin’s soft gasp from beside him really isn’t helping his heart troubles. His fingers move as if on autopilot over the phone screen, the response sent before he can even panic enough to stop himself.

And what line is that? O.o

He turns off his display on purpose because staring at the chat box is taking a toll on him.

He feels as if he is on tenterhooks, almost about to berate Jimin for breathing so loudly right beside him when his phone chimes again.

Let’s just say that I should raid your closet if that’s what you think.

Hoseok only has a beat to register the message before he has to throw himself out of Jimin’s way reflexively, his friend’s squeal too high-pitched for his delicate ears to handle.

“Yah! What is it?”

Jimin looks to him with the smile Hoseok loves most, and he feels his own lips stretch in response without knowing why.

“Aah hyung!” He gently slaps Hoseok’s arm, giggling at Hoseok’s reaction.

“There’s your answer,” he winks and Hoseok’s eyes widen in realization. He reads the text again, then rereads it some more.

“Well shit,” he mutters, placing his phone to the side.

He feels good, he feels excitement run through his veins but something else must show, perhaps trepidation because what Jimin says next has him sobering up.

“Hyung, it will be alright this time.”

“You think so?” He asks, eyes staring off into the middle-distance.

“Yoongisshi is a bit different, isn’t he?”

At those words, he snaps out of it, smacking Jimin lightly on the arm. “Yah! I wouldn’t even be sending signals to him if it hadn’t been for you.”

Jimin preens at the indirect compliment, drawing Hoseok in for a hug. Hoseok melts into the warmth and comfort of his embrace, grateful for his best friend’s sharp intuition when it came to his emotions.

“Hyung, does that mean Yoongisshi has competition?” Jimin whispers in his ear, kissing its top playfully.

Hoseok draws back with his hands framing Jimin’s cheeks, “Jiminah, does that mean you like me?”

He leans in with an exaggerated pout, making smooching noises. Jimin flails in his grasp, his hands grabbing onto Hoseok’s face as he tries to pry his hyung off.

“Ah, hyung!” He protests, giggling harder the closer Hoseok gets. He leans backwards until his head hits the couch armrest, only to have Hoseok climb on top of him, his face getting closer and closer until Jimin’s head is practically hanging over the armrest.

That’s when he notices his friends standing at the mouth of the passageway. Even at this upside-down angle, he can tell Taehyung is making his leery face and Jungkook just looks a bit stunned. Well, it probably wasn’t everyday a high school kid came across a scene like this.

“Hyung,” he attempts to hold his head up against the gravity, patting Hoseok’s head to shoo him away while Hoseok gives him sloppy kisses on his chin and jaw, making loud smacking noises. Jimin sees an upside-down Jungkook turn away.

“Aigoo, Jiminah, you could have just told me you wanted—”

Fearing what’s to come next, Jimin slaps his hand across Hoseok’s mouth. “Hyung!”

Hoseok finally shuts up and stops moving altogether, noticing their onlookers for the first time.

“We heard noises,” Taehyung points a thumb over his shoulder at a Jungkook who is now peeking over it.

Hoseok thinks about how it looks to them, with his hands braced on either side of Jimin’s head, lying practically on top of him…showering him with kisses.

Hoseok rethinks his entire life.

“Yah, what are you two still doing here. Don’t you have school or something?”

“Hyung, it’s Sunday,” Jimin provides from underneath him.

“And Jungkook is the only 16 year old, hyung. I attend college with Jimin hyung,” Taehyung raises his hand.

“Aish!” Hoseok mutters, throwing him a glare before scrambling off his body to go to the very end of the couch while Jimin gathers his limbs and huddles in his corner.

“I swear it’s not what it looks like!”

All three of them stare at Jimin before Hoseok groans. “You know that just makes it sound more suspicious. Boys?”

They all look at him, eyes expectant.

“Feel free to hit on Park Jimin. He’s all yours,” he smiles and snorts when Jungkook averts his eyes, Taehyung noticing the same before he laughs along, too, Jimin reaching across the couch to punch Hoseok with a pout.

And that’s how it goes from then on. 

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook band together to form the three musketeers, always fooling around. Jungkook barely loses his shy nature, loud around Taehyung but always clamming up with blushing cheeks around his new Jimin hyung.

Hoseok becomes rather fond of how Taehyung and Jimin can’t get enough of each other, always coming in a package whenever plans were to be made.

“Hyung, when are you going to ask Yoongi hyung out?” Taehyung asks once, propping his chin on his hand, his eyes wide and interested.

“Who said anything about asking him out?” Hoseok mumbles, trying to wriggle out of the conversation because he most certainly did not like where this was heading.

“Hoseokie hyung!” Jimin gasps. (The boy has gotten annoyingly dramatic ever since he met Taehyung. Curse him. And curse Hoseok for not being able to say anything about that because god, how was that so adorable?)

“Hyung, I can just tell how frustrated you are. Don’t you agree, Jiminah?” Taehyung talking down to Jimin has never been anything new ever since they befriended each other but it still sends a little frisson of envy through him.

He still wasn't on hyung terms with Yoongi. Sshi.

“We’ve been meeting for coffee for a month without ever ordering real coffee at this coffee shop and the staff knows our excessively sweet orders by heart and yet this hasn’t progressed to anything more than text conversations,” Taehyung rattles off, flicking his palm to the side and rolling his eyes like a diva.

“Yah! That is not what I sound like. Not what I speak like either. You actually sound a lot like Namjoon,” Hoseok protests half-heartedly, crossing his arms while trying his best not to burst out into laughter at the same time.

Well, it was true that they never ordered coffee (they both hated coffee, “a bitter disaster” being what Yoongi always called it) even while meeting under the pretext of getting coffee at the same café they had visited in the very beginning.

And the staff did know their orders by heart, going so far as to give them their favourite pastries as complimentary food (courtesy of Yoongi’s friend of a friend Jackson—the mutual friend being Namjoon, much to Hoseok's shock because if you met the guy, you wouldn't think he was Namjoon's type either and no, Hoseok wasn't being judgemental about Namjoon's specifically social tendencies, it's just that Jackson was a shocking contrast to Namjoon's personality—who had taken up a part-time job there of late) a few times (because when the manager found out, he got in trouble).

But it had been way longer than a month.

Far too long.

“Were you expecting anything more?” Jimin asks, doing his best impression of Yoongi while batting his eyelashes suggestively.

Hoseok buries his face in his hand, peeking through the gap between his fingers.

“By God,” Taehyung whispers with passion, his eyebrows drawn together. “I still am.” He finishes, slamming his palm against the tabletop.

Even the ever quiet Jungkook breaks into giggles at that, Jimin joining in and Hoseok finally doubles over with uncontrolled laughter while Taehyung looks quite pleased with himself at his dramatization skills.

“But hyung…don’t you want to?”

Hoseok looks at Jungkook in surprise, tempted to answer back with “don’t I want to what?” but he knows what Jungkook means and knows it would be childish to do such a thing when someone so young was asking a question so…profound.

He looks at Jimin and Taehyung who are also waiting for his response with bated breath.

“I don’t know,” is what he says and watches disappointment flicker in their eyes.

Jungkook however has a look in his eyes that seems to see right through him. A look that seems to say to him, “you’ll be fine.”

And until that moment, Hoseok hadn’t known how much he needed that,

He will be fine, he decides. Everything will be just fine.

Namjoon and Jin take to each other like a fish to water, spending copious amounts of time together doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company and conversation.

Namjoon  gushes to Hoseok and Yoongi alike (which he gathers from Yoongi’s complaints about how “Namjoon can’t stop talking about Jin hyung”), telling them about how much he loves “Jin hyung’s laughter” (Yoongi raises his eyebrows), “Jin hyung’s glittering eyes”, “Jin hyung’s applause-worthy acting”, “Jin hyung’s swoon-worthy smiles”, “Jin hyung’s to-die-for flying kisses” (Yoongi asks him to stop talking), “Jin hyung’s lip-smacking cooking” (Hoseok and Yoongi both wail at Namjoon’s privileges that give him sole access to Jin’s cooking). Hoseok loves listening to him talk about it no matter how much Yoongi grumbles. It warms his heart to see someone so in love.

It’s ironic to think that he brings up the same conversation as Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook did with Namjoon.

“Hyung, have you considered letting him know for once? And maybe asking him out on a proper date?”

“What? Are you crazy?! He thinks he isn’t gay.”

“Well, open his eyes then.”

“How am I supposed to do that? He is so in denial about it that he doesn’t even realize that he checks out guys while walking down the street.”

Hoseok has a facepalm moment at that.

“Hyung,” he begins with a smirk. “How about seducing him?” He wags his eyebrows.

He gets a pillow in his face for his troubles but throws it away, guffawing at Namjoon’s dilemma.

He was in love with a guy who didn’t bend that way. Or so he thought.

“How could Jin hyung not have realized you’re hopelessly into him by now?”

Namjoon sits there, twiddling his thumbs and Hoseok glares at him.

“Hyung…don’t tell me you haven’t done anything to even hint at your feelings till now. You’ve known him for months!”

With a jolt, Hoseok realizes he is repeating Jimin’s words back to Namjoon.

“I’m afraid, Hoseokah. I’m afraid I’m going to scare him away.”

Hoseok swallows at the raw honesty in his voice. His vulnerability is palpable.

“Besides…” Namjoon smiles, his eyes downcast. “I love just being this close to him. I don’t need anything more than friendship if there’s even a chance that he might not want to stay after knowing how I feel about him. I’m content.”

And that’s how Namjoon unwittingly makes him realize that yes, that is exactly how he feels about Yoongi.

He doesn’t need anything more, he decides then and there, stifling whatever yearning he has for the other.

He doesn’t want anything more.

Hoseok and Yoongi however?

A smile graces his lips just thinking about the other.

Months pass and they grow closer than ever, spending every possible second in each other’s company. Their night outs, their movie nights, their endless conversations over the phone and their shared laughter are all memories Hoseok prizes and cherishes. Yoongi gets him like nobody ever has, their conversations giving him epiphanies as he gets to know more about Yoongi and his own self. He has unlocked a different side to him ever since he met Yoongi. A side less anxious, a side with more self-assurance. A side that makes him feel, to be completely honest, liberated.

He is himself, unapologetically and unequivocally himself around Yoongi. There is doubt, of course there is—someone once made sure there will be through no fault of her own, that is just how she was—but it’s doubt that he can crush mercilessly no matter how many times it pops up. The voices inside his head asking him to rein it in can be silenced easily now, Yoongi’s smiles softening the blows of their words, of her words.

Hoseok has never been more at ease with who he is, what kind of a person he is, than when he is with Yoongi. And the very fact makes him marvel at how much Min Yoon Gi has come to mean to him. For him to have lowered his defenses so easily.

And that is what scares him the most. That one word from him and he’ll crumble, just like all that time ago. Just like that time when he had thought the world of someone and she had left him as if it were nothing.

But he hopes that perhaps Yoongi will read the warning written across his forehead.

Handle with care.

Chapter Text

Namjoon sits at the small dining table, wondering why on earth he has to suffer through the strongest awkward silence of his life.

Jin doesn’t even realize that there is silence and that it is awkward as hell to both other participants but it is better that way.

Lee Junghwan, a boy who looks younger than Jungkookie himself sits with his hands in his lap and Jin gushes about him to Namjoon. Apparently, they have been closest of friends since forever and Namjoon has already forgotten how they met because this is not what he had signed up for when Jin had called him over for dinner.

A dinner for two.

A romantic dinner for two (?)

Now you’re pushing it, comes Yoongi’s voice in his head and he stops his hand from knocking some sense into his skull for even harbouring his roommate’s voice.

Well, this wouldn’t have happened had Junghwan not decided to drop in so late on a Friday night. It had made Namjoon’s hackles rise to hear Jin greet another man so loudly and warmly at the door. He had instantly backed down, however, when he had seen how innocent the little boy looked.

“Hyung, would you like some dessert?” Jin suddenly asks and Namjoon chokes on thin air.

The hyung in question grins and nods as Namjoon watches on with mute fascination. So this guy has turned out to be the hyung of his hyung. A superhyung.

“Joonah,” Jin calls, waving a hand in front of his face.

Namjoon snaps out of his thoughts and nods at whatever it is Jin may have asked.

When Jin finally goes into the kitchen, the silence between him and Junghwan becomes more prominent somehow, neither of them looking the other in the eye.

“So you, too, huh?” Comes his soft voice and Namjoon raises his head, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I remember when I was like you,” Junghwan chuckles and Namjoon really doesn’t like being talked to like this by someone who looks like Jungkook’s baby brother.

“I don’t understand what you are implying,” Namjoon says and fixes the guy with as challenging a stare as he can get away with considering their age difference.

Junghwan just looks at him for a moment before smiling a small, humourless and a rather sad smile.

“You like him.”

Namjoon has the presence of mind to look affronted instead of just gaping and blurting out ‘how did you know’ and he is about to say something to deflect the accusation when Jin walks in with a tray with three bowls full of ice-cream.

“Here you go boys!”

Namjoon can’t help but smile at the delight that adorns Jin’s face as he places the bowls down in front of them, settling into his chair with a satisfied sigh.

He scoops out a large dollop and eats it, groaning loudly with undisguised pleasure as he always does and both Namjoon and Junghwan break out into laughter.

It only dies down when both of them look at each other, recognizing the look of pure fondness on the other’s face and Namjoon resigns himself into accepting that perhaps, this guy wasn’t just his hyung but also his sunbae when it came to his feelings for Kim Seok Jin.

They are doing the dishes in the kitchen after having cleared the table, letting Jin have his nightly phone call with his parents, when Junghwan interrupts his inner musings.

“I think Seokjin is one of those people who never really register that they might like someone of the same gender because of denial.”

Namjoon lets the dish he is scrubbing drop in the sink. “I don’t think so,” he frowns.

Junghwan turns off the tap he is using to rinse the plates and tilts his head.

“I think he just hadn’t met the right person until now.”

“And you think you might be the one? The person to make him realize that he is not really what he thinks he is?”

Namjoon squares his shoulders, raises his chin and says, “Yes.”

He expects a derisive snort, perhaps a mocking tone of words but he has clearly misjudged Jin’s best friend of years.

“Don’t be like me, Kim Nam Joonsshi. Be honest with him, please. I tried, I waited and I wouldn’t say I have moved on but…it’s easier seeing him now.

“He may be awkward and a complete fool at times,” Junghwan chuckles, eyeing the soap suds sliding down the plate in his hand.  “But everybody deserves to know they are loved. We’ve been friends for years and I have had feelings for him for as long as I can remember. But I couldn’t have told him. There was too much to give up.”

He pauses and they both listen to Jin’s almost hysterical laugh at something his mother says on the phone.

“Deal with the consequences later, whether they are good or bad. But don’t spend the rest of your life wondering if it was worth it. The dishonesty.”

Namjoon nods silently at his words and wonders if withholding information that he has every right to keep secret is a form of dishonesty.

They hear Jin say goodbye and hastily return to washing the dishes, continuing casual conversation as if Junghwan hadn’t just shared his deepest, darkest secrets with a friend of the love of his life.

“You know, Namjoon…”

“Hmm?”

“I miss Junghwan.”

Namjoon looks up from where he had been inspecting the wine in his glass, startled at the sudden yearning in Jin’s voice.

But he isn’t prepared for the sheer wistfulness in his eyes.

“You just met him,” he supplies with a tilt of his wineglass in the direction of the main door.

Junghwan had left right after doing the dishes, refusing to join them for sipping on the wine Namjoon had brought even upon Jin’s insistence. Jin had brought out his best wineglasses after they had said their goodbyes and they had been through some of it already, relaxing on the couch in the living room.

“Thank you for your helpful comment, Namjoonah,” Jin gives him a smile.

Namjoon pauses, then says, “Sarcasm?”

“Sarcasm,” Jin nods.

Namjoon frowns, finishes his wine before putting his empty glass on the table and faces Jin.

“Tell me how you miss him,” he murmurs.

Jin blinks those cute blinks of his, the ones that make him look like a confused child and sighs. He takes a sip of his wine and swirls it around in his glass.

“I know it might not have seemed like that to you…but we were the closest of friends a few years ago. I confided in him the most. He was my to-go friend for everything. We used to be inseparable.”

Jin smiles into his glass, takes the last sip and then refills it before continuing.

“And then, out of nowhere, things changed. He began to avoid me, my calls, and my texts when I asked to hang out. And I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. It took me a few months to notice that he couldn’t have been busy every single time I tried to reach out to him.

“By then, I hardly knew him. I heard from our common friends that he was…sleeping around. Junghwan wasn’t the type to do that. He had always praised true love and whatnot but he was seeing strangers almost every other night.”

“Strangers?”

“Women he picked up at clubs,” Jin explains and Namjoon feels an ache in his chest.

“I didn’t know what to do and I thought I was losing him. So, one day…I went over to his place. He hadn’t changed the pass code after all that time. The woman in his bed was asleep but he had been lying there, fully dressed, wide awake. And he was angry at me.”

Jin’s voice becomes small in the end, frail and trembling and he gulps the rest of his wine in one go.

“He was mad that I had entered his place without having asked him. I pleaded with him to stop ruining himself like that over—over strangers and alcohol and maybe even drugs but he came rushing at me—”

“Did he hurt you?” Namjoon asks, fingers curled into a fist at the thought.

“Hurt me?” Jin breathes, his eyes wide. “Junghwan would never hurt me, Joonah.”

“Then what did he do?”

“He said…what would you know. As if I hadn’t struggled with—as if I hadn’t struggled either. And then…then he begged me to never show up in his life again.”

Namjoon looks away when Jin locks eyes with his because in the many months of their friendship, he had never once seen such pain.

“After that, we only ever met on his terms. He sees me once every few months. Apart from those meetings, we hardly ever talk. ”

Silence falls between them and Namjoon doesn’t know how to make it go away.

He had never been good at comforting people, never really articulate when it came to saying the right thing. Perhaps that’s why he got along so well with Yoongi. They were both equally shit at it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I know I planned this as dinner just so that we could spend some time together, but today was the first time I had seen him in months and I couldn’t not ask him to stay—”

“Hyung—hyung you don’t have to apologize for that. It’s alright. It’s fine, yeah?”

Jin nods, his lethargy showing in the droop of his eyes but it seems like he has more to say so Namjoon remains quiet.

“I never told him. What his absence had done to me. You wouldn’t believe how thankful I was for Taehyung’s company.  After Junghwan, I just never really had a friend I could call my own…I could only wonder what I did wrong for things to go so awry between us.”

“Hyung, I may not know much about you two. But I can tell you that it wasn’t your fault. You are not to be blamed here. Junghwansshi made his own decisions and he is to be held responsible for them.”

“Look, if I was offered unsolicited advice by a total stranger about the guy I like, I’d tell him to screw himself.”

Yoongi’s voice crackles over his phone speaker and Namjoon hears Hoseok’s loud laughter accompany Yoongi’s soft chuckle. He smiles to himself. At least his situation wasn’t as bad as theirs. Everybody except those two saw what goners they were for each other.

But maybe his situation was worse. He was dealing with a guy who wasn’t even into him due to the basic principle of not being the opposite sex.

Namjoon sighs where he is sitting hunched over on the toilet seat. He had tried to crack a few jokes to lighten the mood after Jin’s heartfelt talk. Jin, being the gentleman that he was, had had the decency to laugh at the worst of them and Namjoon had excused himself to the bathroom because he couldn’t have handled another minute with the strength of his internal conflict over Junghwan's words.

“But he is right, Namjoon. Hoseok agrees with me, too.”

Namjoon scowls and then remembers that Yoongi can’t see it.

“Look who’s talking. I dare you to do the same. If I do this, you spill your guts to Hoseok. Actually, take it one step further. You kiss him as a confession.”

Yoongi just laughs on the other side, spewing curses which sound like they are coming from gritted teeth.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have the phone on loudspeaker,’ is all Yoongi says before the line goes dead.

Namjoon groans and gets to his feet, eyeing his dark circles in the bathroom mirror before getting out of there.

“Jin hyung, I think I should—” Namjoon begins and stops immediately upon entering the living room.

Jin is curled up against one armrest of the sofa, his legs tucked under him and head lolling on the backrest.

Namjoon approaches his sleeping form as softly as he can, noting the presence of a black pass on the table, Jin’s wineglass acting as a paperweight.

He carefully plucks the pass out from under it, the glass tilting sideways for a gut wrenching moment before it stands on its base again.

He straightens up with a sigh of relief and readsthe pass. It is Jin’s latest drama’s ticket scheduled for tomorrow night. He remembers Jin having told him how one of the privileges of being an assistant teacher and one of the few best actors at a posh, private academy was getting a free pass for one.

Namjoon feels a rush of warmth that Jin had invited him instead of Junghwan.

He slips the pass into the back pocket of his jeans and goes to stand over Jin’s sleepy body, nudging his shoulder with gentle fingers.

“Hyung, it’s time for me to leave. Won’t you see me out?”

Jin doesn’t move a muscle, however, and Namjoon notes the moisture that still sits on Jin’s lips, colour high on his cheeks.

“How much did you drink?” He asks, turning to lift the wine bottle off the table and shake it to hear the sloshing of its contents.

To his horror, it is completely empty, the bottle making no sound to indicate the presence of wine within it. Namjoon had just had one glass but Jin must have practically inhaled the bottle considering how he was knocked out on the sofa.

How long was I in the bathroom?!

He picks up the empty bottle and both the wine glasses, dropping them off into the kitchen sink before coming back to Jin’s prone figure.

He carefully slides an arm under Jin’s back and another under his knees, pulling him close to his chest before heaving him up.

He grunts under his friend’s weight and carefully makes his way across the living room to Jin’s bedroom, nudging the door open with one foot.

He struggles till the bed and then makes sure that he doesn’t just drop the man onto the mattress, instead lowering his body slowly until Jin’s head meets the pillow.

This unfortunately gets his left arm stuck underneath the heavy weight of Jin’s back but he decides to extract his other arm first.

He successfully recovers his right arm but that’s when Jin opens his eyes.

“Joonah,” he breathes, lips curving languidly. Jin’s arm comes up to pull Namjoon down by his neck. “I was so lonely for so long…”

Namjoon freezes under the heavy-lidded gaze, trying hard not to drool over the pink in his cheeks and the plush shape of his lips this close to his face.

“Thank you,” Jin whispers in his ear and Namjoon is about to reply with a ‘pleasure is mine’ or maybe a ‘you are welcome’ even when his words are forced to go down the way they had been about to come because Jin kisses his cheek.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. His brain provides the seconds passing rather helpfully and then Jin draws back with a soft sound—the sound that kisses make, that muah Namjoon never thought he would hear—sighing as he rolls to his side on the mattress, fast asleep.

Namjoon stands there by his bed in semi-darkness, hands still held out wide as if he were still carrying Jin, back hunched and knees bent.

He stays like that for about fifteen seconds before he feels a squeal rise up his lungs and almost sprints out of the bedroom, only sagging against the bedroom door when it is safely closed behind him.

“He was drunk. That is all. Drunk. Drunk, drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk.”

Namjoon chants the word like a mantra the whole way home.

This time around, the play is in one of the upper-class areas of Seoul, the theater specifically reserved for performing arts only from the best acts in the city.

Yoongi waits in the foyer along with Namjoon, playing with the sleek black pass in his hand while his roommate seems to be muttering something under his breath.

“Namjoon, mind telling me what it is that you have been going on about?” He asks, inching closer to the man who stands with his back to him, head bowed and fist clenched.

The string of words he is reciting with passion sound like nothing but—

“Who was drunk?” Yoongi questions with a frown, turning Namjoon by the shoulder to face him.

“Jin hyung.”

“And why is that important enough to be repeated like a maniac?”

“Because he kissed me.”

“What.”

“JIN HYUNG KISSED YOU?!”

The roommates startle at the shriek and turns around to a Hoseok who is vibrating on his feet, looking as if he was gearing up to be the metal ball in a pinball machine.

“Will you keep it down?” Namjoon whispers, shushing Hoseok with flailing hands.

“He is a loud-mouth, he can’t help it,” Yoongi defends his friend.

“Why, thanks for that, Yoongisshi.”

Yoongi beams at the comment when Namjoon lets a ‘sarcasm’ slip between his drunk-drunk-drunk chant and then fights the urge to clonk him on the head.

“Who was drunk?” Comes Jimin’s voice and they all turn to find a little Jungkook being led towards them by the hand.

“You can’t bring a kid in here!” Namjoon snaps, eyeing Jungkook up and down.

“Hyung, I’m not a kid,” the kid pouts.

“Yeah, you are. And what on earth have you done to his hair?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms as he examines Jungkook from head to toe.

Jimin drops Jungkook’s hand with a worried look on his face and turns his face this way and that with both hands, inspecting his handiwork.

“Why, doesn’t it look good? I thought I would make him look older so I added some make-up and coiffed his hair.”

Jimin licks his thumb and leans in close to Jungkook to rub away a speck of Kajal under his eye. Jungkook flushes and squirms under the intense scrutiny.

“Good work on that Jimin. The bangs really made him look like a 12 year old,” Hoseok thumps Jimin’s back like a proud father. Jimin beams in response.

“You think the bangs were the problem?” Yoongi deadpans.

Jimin runs his hands through Jungkook’s hair, setting and styling it. Meanwhile, Jungkook screws his eyes shut and forces himself to stay still.

“We are going off-track. To bring you boys up to speed: Jin hyung kissed Namjoon,” Hoseok declares with a flourish of his hands and both the young ones gasp, turning to regard Namjoon with awed looks.

“It’s not what you think,” the man in question groans.

“Didn’t he kiss you?” Yoongi asks, oozing disinterest.

“Yes but—”

“Did it involve lips?” Hoseok enquires, wagging his eyebrows.

“Yes but—”

“Did you like it?” Jungkook asks in a meek voice and Namjoon does a double take before answering.

“Yes but—”

“Then you two kissed!” Hoseok claps his hands with glee.

“IT WAS ON THE CHEEK! HE KISSED ME ON MY CHEEK!”

“Ah, then it’s fine.”

“I’d say that’s still progress.”

“That’s nothing.”

“I can’t believe you got worked up over a kiss on the cheek.”

Namjoon glares at the backs of his so-called friends’ heads and follows them into the theater.

Fortunately, Jungkook is allowed into the theater only after a suspicious head to toe look from the doorman.

When Yoongi had heard that Taehyung had called the play too racy for someone like Jimin, he hadn’t really expected anything in particular but he certainly hadn’t expected this.

Jungkook seems to be grinding his teeth, a few more explicit dialogues away from watching the play through gaps between his fingers. For him, it is an exercise in self-control but he seems hell bent upon proving that he is no kid even if it is to the detriment of his own innocence.

Jimin has maintained a steady flush in his cheeks throughout and has learnt to quickly avert his gaze every time there is an indication of things getting physical between the side characters.

Hoseok has been worrying his lower lip, eyes vaguely apprehensive but spellbound and Yoongi finds it rather distracting but, this time he has vowed to watch the play if he has spent good money on it so he has to tear his eyes away from the sight.

Namjoon has the most extreme reaction of them all. He sits on the edge of the seat, hands gripping the back of the seat in front of him, eyes wide, jaw-dropped and eyes glistening with tears and was that…indignation?

But Yoongi relates with that reaction the most. The play is honestly what Namjoon would call revolutionary. Reformative.

The play is about closeted queers, an entire spectrum of them being portrayed as they struggled with not just homophobia from their families and friends and sometimes complete strangers, but also its internalized form.

Best friends sneaking kisses in the dark, constantly on tenterhooks to avoid disclosure of their preferences, hiding it from their friends, hiding it from their families, hiding—just hiding.

Yoongi hadn’t expected it at all. He understands the need to put up this play in front of a selective audience in such an exclusive theater. Without any allies in the audience, the auditorium management or in the world of drama critics, this play might have been boycotted.

Instrumental melodies reverberate through the auditorium, adding to the dramatization. Minimal dialogues and a physical element of dance to evoke emotions give the whole production a sense of grimness.

He finds himself struggling with some of the scenes, refusing to let it get to him.

This wasn’t the time for a mental breakdown.

Up on the stage, Taehyung enters once more, in a heated argument with Jin. The two struggle wordlessly but Taehyung seems to have the upper hand in their dynamic.

The subtleties of their body movements aren’t lost on Yoongi.

Jin breaks off from Taehyung upstage and walks forward to face the audience only to drop on his knees as if he were begging.

As Taehyung follows in Jin’s footsteps, the lights dim across the stage, only keeping the two in a spotlight.

Taehyung kneels behind Jin to a crescendo, covering the latter’s eyes with one hand while reaching forward with the other to caress his chest. He places an open-mouthed kiss across Jin’s shoulder, drawing back to kiss the nape of his neck when the music finally reaches its peak and silence falls, the spotlight going off to plunge the whole theater in darkness.

All at once, a thundering applause crashes through the auditorium, appreciative murmurs rising in volume.

Namjoon’s furious claps and shouts are deafening to Yoongi as the man sits right beside him. He notes that Hoseok has leaned back in his seat in stunned silence.

Jungkook looks somewhat scandalized as Jimin tries to gather his scattered thoughts, fumbling through sentences of comfort.

Yoongi leans over the armrest of his seat to murmur into Hoseok’s ear.

“Let’s go meet the boys before Namjoon accidentally hurts someone.”

Yoongi curls up on the bean bag chair in a far corner of the living room, watching Hoseok interact with their maknae line on the floor with loud, delighted guffaws. Yoongi has to admit: Hoseok’s laughter gives him a headache but it also warms his heart so he can never really ask him to shut up like he would Namjoon.

Namjoon hasn’t left Seokjin’s side since they came back from the theater, discussing the play and marveling at his friend’s acting skills. Even from this distance, Yoongi can see Jin visibly colour every time Namjoon says something flattering and slap his arm playfully which makes Namjoon blush so it’s a vicious, endless circle.

Now they had all settled in Jimin’s living room after having finished a hearty dinner, everybody dressed in their pajamas.

Hoseok grabs everybody’s attention, the maknae line’s stone-paper-scissors game having finally come to a conclusion.

“Let’s play Stare, Truth or Dare!”

Chapter Text

"Taehyungah, it isn’t such a big deal!”

“What do you mean it isn’t such a big deal?! It’s a pretty big deal to me. I am traumatiz—”

“Come here.”

And before Taehyung knows it, Jimin has bridged the gap between them.

Two Hours Ago

“Let’s play Stare, Truth or Dare!”

There is contemplative silence before everybody except the deciding four shrug and say ‘why not’ and move to join the younger ones on the floor.

“But let’s not do any dares, yeah?” Yoongi grumbles, dragging the bean bag chair across the floor until he is positioned beside Hoseok.

Namjoon and Jin agree, saying how it’s a rather useless add-on to the game for adults. The children comply without argument and Taehyung picks up an empty soju bottle. He places it on the floor at the center of their rough circle, fingers poised over its body to spin it.

“But,” Taehyung begins, holding up a finger of his free hand, “If anyone refuses to answer, we can’t just let them get away with it.”

“Then we punish them,” Yoongi groans. “Get on with it.”

“Alright, hyung!” Taehyung grins and lets it spin.

Ten minutes into the game and everybody knows they are very well screwed what with no choice but to pick truth because even failing at the staring involves punishments. But some people are already scheming to find the best way possible to make their friends repent.

Yoongi is one of those people.

The bottle spins and comes to a stop almost parallel to Hoseok and Yoongi, its neck pointing vaguely towards the former.

“Alright, Hoseokah. What happened between you and Jimin that you keep referring to all the time?” Yoongi asks, making himself comfortable in the bean bag chair.

Hoseok gawks and Jimin makes a sound that borders on helpless embarrassment, immediately burying his face in the crook of Taehyung’s neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hoseok mumbles, picking at his toenail.

“‘Jimin, you could turn a straight man gay’ were your exact words once and we have had the pleasure to hear multiple variations thereof,” Namjoon jumps on the bandwagon, Jin nodding in agreement with wide eyes. Even Jungkook looks on with polite curiosity.

Hoseok winces, sighs and makes a firm declaration. “I refuse to answer.”

Yoongi watches Jimin sag against Taehyung in obvious relief and frowns.

“I’ll decide on your punishment later.”

Hoseok wilts against the base of the bean bag in resignation to his fate and Yoongi pulls his legs up to avoid touching him. He had expected an honest answer but he was protecting Jimin instead. Min Yoon Gi was not pleased.

Taehyung pats Jimin’s head and reaches out to spin the bottle once again.

Namjoon grins when the neck stops at him because the bottle’s base indicates Jungkook and he is the best person when asking truth questions because the only things he has asked thus far to Jimin and Jin are their favourite movie and most hated food.

So he promptly picks, “Truth!” and Jungkook opens his mouth to ask. The smile on Namjoon’s face falls, however, when Taehyung screams out a dramatic, “Noooo!” and grabs Jungkook by his neck, pulling him in to whisper furiously in his ear.

Jungkook pulls away after his hyung is done instructing him with a dazed look in his eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hyung…whom do you like?”

Everybody’s attention is immediately drawn to Jin who doesn’t even know it. He is busy poking Namjoon’s side for an answer.

Namjoon groans. He couldn’t even be mad at Jungkook for having listened to Taehyung. He was the picture of innocence with his legs tucked to his chest and chin resting on his knees.

“RTA,” he says simply and spins the bottle with haste to avoid any more questions about his love life.

“Ah, but that was a good one,” Yoongi smirks, wagging his eyebrows at Hoseok who chuckles and slaps his knee playfully.

“Taehyung, you tell us what you know about Hoseok and Jimin,” Namjoon grins. He has a plan in mind.

Hoseok and Jimin both sit up straighter, eyeing Namjoon as well as Taehyung in shock.

But Namjoon knows what Taehyung will choose to do. He catches Yoongi’s eye and winks, Hoseok missing the exchange completely.

“I won’t,” Taehyung sticks his tongue out at Namjoon.

“Then, I suppose the punishments are long overdue,” Yoongi grins.

Namjoon leans forward to add to the build-up and whispers, “Taehyungah, my dear dongsaeng, as your punishment for not answering my question, I ask you to kiss Hoseok.”

“Hah! Hyung, that’s a piece of cake,” Taehyung flashes him a smile and starts dragging his butt across the floor to a stunned Hoseok.

He is stopped from proceeding any further by Yoongi who sticks out his foot to stop the kid in his tracks.

“Child, I believe you have misunderstood,” Yoongi grins.

Taehyung looks between Yoongi and Namjoon, a confused frown on his face for about five seconds before it hits.

“NO!”

“NO NO NO NO NO.”

“Oh God! Really, Joonah?”

 “Hyung, what did they ask him to do?”

“Are they doing it on the lips?!”

“I REFUSE,” Taehyung roars. “I. REFUSE.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Hoseok echoes, his voice hollow and face drawn. “This is unfair. I don’t have to do this!”

Yoongi leans down from where he is sitting on the bean bag chair, gently turning Hoseok’s head by his chin to face him.

“Yes, you do,” he whispers with a serene face. “Doesn’t anybody have a lipstick?” He yells over the pandemonium that Taehyung is single-handedly creating.

His fingers close around a tube someone hands him and he moves the hand holding Hoseok’s chin to his neck instead.

Hoseok is surprisingly compliant—probably due to shock—as Yoongi applies primary red lipstick onto his lips with care. The whole thing is distracting as hell but he has a one-track mind and Hoseok’s lips would most certainly look prettier against Taehyung’s.

“I have Hoseok primed up and ready!”

“Where did you even get that colour?” Jimin asks, half in awe and half appalled.

“Can we do this already? I am not getting any younger here,” Jin calls over the longer edge of his phone, its camera running.

“There’s no way out of it Taehyung, you have to take one for the team.”

“What team!”

“I certainly hope that safeguarding this secret was worth it, you two, because I will see this through,” Namjoon declares with grim determination as Jin shuffles around him to get a good angle at the two doomed ones.

Yoongi gets down on his knees between the two as everybody else gathers around them for a better view.

“Okay, let’s do it slowly,” Jimin says from somewhere behind him as Hoseok takes Taehyung’s hands.

“I’ll go for it coolly, yeah?” Hoseok says and Taehyung stares at him in horror before everybody else breaks out into laughter.

“Is this really for the sake of fanfic content or just a foul play of the writer?” Jimin wonders out loud.

“These four are really feeling relieved,” Namjoon says and everybody else joins in with conceding laughter.

“I—I am so content right now!” Yoongi exclaims to accompanying giggles.

“Don’t over think this!” Namjoon advises.

“Don’t be nervous! Haha!” Jimin pipes in and Taehyung takes a moment to throw him a weak glare but the excitement in his friend’s eyes makes him smile faintly instead.

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it,” Hoseok mutters under his breath. “Alright! Alright! One, two, three!”

Hoseok tries to breach the distance between them but it doesn’t work out, only leaving others heaving for breath as they laughed even harder.

“Their lips haven’t touched yet!” Namjoon points out with glee and Yoongi holds them both by their necks.

“Alright, we will give you five seconds.”

Taehyung sags in pain at the duration which elicits a, “I also feel like dying, you arse!” from Hoseok.

Jimin’s shriek of “I don’t want to die either” from the back makes Taehyung snort. Hoseok flinches and wipes his face.

“Yah! Don’t spit!” He orders.

“You’re supposed to kiss! Why are you spitting?” Namjoon asks, craning his neck to get a good look at the two.

“Alright. One, two, three—”

At Hoseok’s count, Taehyung begins to meet him halfway ignoring Jimin’s wail of ‘no’ from somewhere around him.

They are moving far too slowly so Yoongi decides to assist them, pushing their heads together by their necks.

And then it happens.

Their lips touch.

Everybody holds their breath.

The earth halts in its spinning.

Life stops for a miraculous second.

And then the apocalypse occurs.

“Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m done for, this is it. It’s not like I asked for it but I must have betrayed blood in my past life to deserve this sort of karma.”

“Taehyung just—”

“Who knew the end to my days was going to come this quickly? Who knew? Now I have to suffer.”

“Taehyungah, it was just a kiss.”

“JUST a kiss?”

Jimin buries his head in his hands and Taehyung doesn’t know why since he should be the one burying it. Inside something. Underground. In sand.

Or maybe he should dig a hole for himself, stand in it and be buried neck down in sand and let vultures peck at his face.

Yes, that will be loads more painful. And shameful.

But not as shameful as—

“Waaah! How could they have let this happen?! I trusted Yoongi hyung. And he betrayed me.”

He can feel the realization dawning on him as his eyes widen and lips curve.

“Now his karma is going to be bad for betraying blood.”

“He isn’t your actual brother, Taehyung,” Jimin rudely interrupts his evil laughter.

“Yes he is. We are both from Daegu. He likes me and I like him back. And he betrayed me.”

“Taehyung—”

“No. I must have committed treason against the very Daehan Minguk in my past life. No wonder I had my first kiss stolen by Hoseok hyung,” he throws his head back as he wails, his eyes beginning to sting.

Namjoon hyung would say there was no use crying over milk or something but this was worse, this was a spilt kiss! Split kiss? Spoilt kiss?

“Hoseokie hyung hardly stole a kiss. It was as much as a punishment for him, as it was for you.”

“Yes but it wasn’t his first kiss!” Taehyung cannot help but wail again, tears spilling over and down his cheeks.

“It was a kiss between two friends. It doesn’t have to count,” Jimin sighs and Taehyung most certainly doesn’t like the sound of it.

That’s the kind of sigh Jin hyung emits when he keeps forgetting his dialogues and he absolutely does not deserve that right now when he was the victim!

“Friends? Friends?! Hoseok hyung ruined the sacred relationship between true brothers—”

“Again, you two aren’t biologically related either,” Jimin interrupts but Taehyung speaks right over him.

“—between two comrades—”

"You were never a member of the armed forces,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“—between two soulmates—“

“Yah! I thought I was your soulmate,” Jimin frowns.

Taehyung just groans, the groan that Kookie calls “the best pterodactyl impression he has ever heard” and slumps against the headboard of Jimin’s bed, eyes shut against the injustice of the world.

“Taehyungah, listen to me. Some people actually kiss their best friends okay?”

“Not on the lips!” His eyes fly open in righteous indignation.

“Yes, they do. On the lips. They are just sweet little platonic kisses like the one you had with Hoseok hyung right now. It doesn’t have to be—you know…” Jimin gestures vaguely.

“Doesn’t have to be what?” He asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Sexual,” Jimin whispers, blushing already and Taehyung blanches, screwing his eyes shut against the image that is taking shape in his mind.

“No! No no no no no no no no no. No. NO.”

“Taehyungah, it isn’t such a big deal!”

“What do you mean it isn’t such a big deal?! It’s a pretty big deal to me. I am traumatiz—”

“Come here.”

And before Taehyung knows it, Jimin has bridged the gap between them.

Taehyung has kissed two boys within one hour and that is more than how many hyung(s) he was expecting to kiss on a Saturday night. Well, not that he was expecting to kiss any hyung(s) per se—but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Jimin had just kissed him (ON THE LIPS) and that was not a body part he was expecting to get kissed so soon after the last fiasco—but Jimin had just kissed him—Jimin hyung—and he didn’t know what to do so he just sat staring.

“See? It’s no big deal. I told you it wasn’t,” Jimin was saying. “Uh…you can stop staring at my lips now, Taehyungah,” he says.

Jimin self-consciously licks his lips and Taehyung is drawn to the swipe of his tongue like a butterfly to an open fire…or something.

“Um, Taehyungah…”

Close, Jimin’s lips were so close all of a sudden. And if he thought hard about the kiss Jimin had given him just a moment ago, he could just feel the softness of his lips, the vague whiff of his lip balm and their warmth and the giggly feeling rising up his chest…

He is jolted out of his reverie and he looks down to his chest to find Jimin’s small palm there. He looks up and finds his friend leaning back a little sheepishly.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

Taehyung blinks, canting his head.

He grins widely, eyes curving into crescents in the way he knows charms the most stoic of his fans. He slides his hands up Jimin’s palms and grabs him by his forearms, scooting even closer to him.

“Can I have another one?”

After the kiss the events go as such:

Taehyung falls to the floor and Hoseok throws himself to the other side of the room and everybody else is found splayed on the living room floor in various stages of muscle spasms from all the cringing the kiss triggers.

Once they get over it, Yoongi loudly declares that Namjoon’s punishment is being stranded outside the dorm having to resort to staying at Hoseok's place along with Jin because according to Yoongi, “That’s the only way they’ll get down to it.” Hoseok doesn’t know what the ‘it’ he is referring to is and he’d rather not know at all. Thus, he gets dragged all the way to their college campus where Yoongi sneaks him past the watchman and into his room.

“I still can’t believe you made me do something like that. What have I ever done to deserve that?” Hoseok laughs in disbelief, staring at the ceiling in the moonlit darkness.

“You are keeping secrets from me,” Yoongi frowns into the dark.

“Yoongi!” He protests, dropping the honorific ending on purpose.

“Yah! That’s hyung for you, you punk.”

Hoseok grins to himself, extremely pleased. Mission accomplished. Now all he had to do was act like he didn’t actually want to call him hyung.

“So you are going to hold those eleven months over me after all, huh?”

“If Seokjinsshi can hold a measly three months over my head and make me call him ‘hyung’, then I can sure as hell account for eleven whole months. It’s just you and Namjoon who have a messed up dynamic even when he is younger than you.”

“Well, we are technically the same age so why bother emphasizing the seven-ish month’s difference,” Hoseok shrugs in the dark.

“You brats these days are too lazy to be respectful.”

“I am barely a year younger than you. Don’t act like you are from another era,” Hoseok chuckles.

Yoongi just grumbles unintelligibly and turns on his side, heavy-lidded eyes observing Hoseok’s form in the dark.

“Hoseokah?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you were so reluctant to tell me this big secret that you’d rather kiss Taehyung?”

Hoseok sighs, melts a little at the fond way Yoongi calls his name and resigns himself to reliving that night. Yoongi was never going to stop asking until the truth was out and Hoseok was already exhausted by his best friend's vengeful side.

Jimin sighs in his sleep and Hoseok smiles in response, running his fingers through the silver strands. Hoseok has to admit, the boy is gorgeous. He has beauty immersed in innocence and the softest light in his eyes. The very warmth of him makes Hoseok yearn for more of it. Just another second in his company, he thinks.

"You're staring again, hyung," those plush lips curl slowly and Hoseok chuckles, flicking Jimin's cheek softly.

"Why, are you asking me to stop?" He teases, his thumb tracing the curve of Jimin's cheekbone.

His eyes flutter open and Hoseok's breath gets caught in his throat.

Jimin holds his gaze for a steady beat.

"No," he breathes, and then those eyes are dropping to look away as the skin under Hoseok's fingertip turns a baby pink.

Hoseok can't help the gasp at that unexpectedly bold answer, the sharp intake of breath turning into a quiet laugh as he hooks his thumb underneath Jimin's chin to lift it up.

The boy reluctantly meets his gaze, eyes shyly flitting between his ears and then eyes.

It's only when his thumb edges upward and skims Jimin's bottom lip that the orbs fixate on Hoseok's eyes.

"Do you mind?" Hoseok asks without letting his gaze waver from the lips which part to let in shallow breaths.

Jimin just looks at him in question and Hoseok continues, "I've just always been curious...what it would feel like."

His friend blinks, his naivety staring straight at him through those eyes. 

So Hoseok simply leans in, letting the boy have the choice of moving away, watching as Jimin's eyes fall shut at his proximity and finally lets his lips press the other pair.

At first he hesitates, because it's new. It's different and it's strange. It's uncharted territory. His heart is beating a thousand miles a minute and he is already having a panic attack.

But the lips beneath his are pliant, and they give in almost instantly, taking him by surprise when he is let into wet warmth. He comes up for air, looking at Jimin questioningly but he doesn't have time to voice his thoughts because there are gentle, persuasive fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck that pull him down for more.

And then it's Jimin who's tasting him, it's Jimin who is licking into his mouth and teasing out moans from the back of his throat.

"Jiminah," he murmurs against those lips but they just silence him again.

He finds himself on his back all of a sudden, all the air in his lungs escaping him. Jimin is straddling him, hands holding his down against the mattress as Hoseok's wide eyes search the heavy-lidded pair.

"Jiminah?" He asks once more, thoroughly baffled and on his way to becoming thoroughly brainwashed at the rate with which Jimin was dealing with him.

"Hoseokie hyung," Jimin smirks, he actually smirks, "Hush."

Hoseok cannot respond with anything but a blink of his eyes but that's when they roll into the back of his head when Jimin grinds against him. His hands lurch in protest, wanting to shove Jimin off but the latter’s grip is too strong for that and he is too weak with pleasure.

And then his words of protest are silenced yet again, muffled against the plush pair of lips.

Now he's unsure of it all because this isn't what he intended to do. Hoseok had just wanted to kiss Jimin, nothing more nothing less. And certainly not a kiss involving tongues and—and moans!

“What?!”

Yoongi loudly interrupts his stuttering explanation.

“The little, mochi Jiminnie I know made out with you?”

“Ah, please don’t say it that way,” Hoseok mumbles into his hands, curling up into an embarrassed ball on Namjoon’s bed.

“I am stating it exactly how it is,” Yoongi’s breathless words float in the quiet darkness.

“I was drunk and—and—”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I was. On lack of sleep. You know how I get when I am sleep deprived.”

“You have a point there but I didn’t know you lost your senses enough to make out with your best friend.”

Hoseok swallows, choosing his next words carefully.

“I was heartbroken.”

“What?”

“I had been dumped that week,” Hoseok mutters, turning his back to Yoongi.

“You dated someone from our college? Do I know him?”

Hoseok hesitates, and then answers.

“She was a senior. She left me after graduating.”

He hears sheets rustling and can picture Yoongi sitting up on his bed.

“Hoseokah.”

The gravity of the situation, of his words must have hit Yoongi because he hears soft footfalls and then feels a weight on the edge of Namjoon's bed.

A hand on his shoulder tugs him gently to make him face his friend.

He turns reluctantly, eyes avoiding Yoongi’s as they rove over his face.

“Is that how you found out that you were…” Yoongi trails off.

“Into boys, too? Yeah,” he sighs. Hoseok doesn’t know why he is going into such detail about all of this. But something makes him want to divulge every last bit to Yoongi.

“Jiminnie made me question a lot of things. He was—still is—gorgeous and charming and I always found myself admiring his looks, his dancing, the way he talked and so I wondered if—if she had left because of that—”  He stops speaking just before his voice breaks.

“It’s alright,” Yoongi murmurs, his fingers brushing through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. Hoseok is surprised at the act, knowing that Yoongi was usually averse to touch. But it works, making him melt into it.

“But I had been in love with her. And that isn’t why she left me,” he whispers and Yoongi’s hand stills in his hair.

Hoseok swallows, holding Yoongi’s gaze in the darkness.

“What happened with Jimin had been a moment of weakness…I had to see if I—I was attracted to him and I certainly got my answer,” he chuckles, Yoongi throwing him a faint smile. “But we stopped it before we went too far. It was because I—I value him as a friend, as my closest one. I wouldn’t have wanted to shift things between us and I was scared, you know?”

Yoongi nods and Hoseok suddenly feels a rush of warmth for this boy who was sitting in the dark with him, listening to his sob story.

“Jimin apologized so much even though I had been the one to initiate it. He’d thought that I had already known that I was bi. He was quite flattered that he made me realize it.”

Hoseok takes a deep breath and sighs, the panic of having come out finally catching up to him. He lets his eyes fall shut.

“What’s the verdict, then?”

“Verdict?” Hoseok can hear the frown in the voice, the tone laced with confusion.

Hoseok steels himself for Yoongi’s reaction.

“It’s fine if you wouldn’t want to—want to have anything to do with me, Yoongi…sshi.”

Yoongi retracts his hand and Hoseok sees his gaze harden in the darkness. He really hadn’t expected Yoongi to get mad. Disgusted, perhaps, but not mad.

“Why wouldn’t I want to have anything to do with my best friend, Hoseokah?”

Hoseok bites his lip, ready to turn on his side to face the wall again but Yoongi rests his elbow beside Hoseok’s head, propping his chin on his fist.

“What about tonight’s play?”

“What about it?”

“Do you think I would have enjoyed it if I were even remotely homophobic?”

“But you looked—ahem—a little mad while watching it.”

“That was because—” Yoongi abruptly cuts himself off.

Hoseok waits for him to continue, trying to fill in the blanks. He had lied with the ‘little mad’ description. Yoongi had looked furious during the play. Hurt, even, if Hoseok were to draw conclusions based on the look in his eyes.

“Do you think I would have been so vocal with my praise for Jin hyung and Taehyung had I been homophobic?”

“…no.”

“Well, there’s your answer,” Yoongi leans back, slapping his knee lightly.

“Scoot.”

He startles at the abrupt order and presses himself up against the wall, watching as Yoongi lies down on the bed beside him.

“Come here,” he mutters and jerks Hoseok towards him by his shoulder, letting his left arm double as a pillow of the boy’s head, cradling its back with his right hand.

“What are you—” Hoseok mumbles into his embrace, squirming to pull back. Yoongi just holds onto him tighter. It’s far too cramped for the both of them, the bed meant for a single person only. And yet Hoseok feels like he is lying on clouds.

“Hush. Go to sleep.”

“But—”

“Shut up and sleep, Hoseok.”

Hoseok finds it difficult, however, to just shut up and sleep as his friend had so easily put it. He can hear Yoongi’s breaths; see the contour of his collarbones and the exposed curve of his shoulder.

He swallows and hopes to God that his gulp didn’t actually sound that loud.

This was certainly a night of firsts. First time with Yoongi caressing his hair, their first cuddle, Taehyung's first kiss—Hoseok promptly stops that train of thought right there.

“Can I ask you something?”

“That’s a question in itself.”

“Why did you look so upset in the theater?”

There’s a silent beat before Yoongi answers.

“That’s a story for another time.”

Chapter Text

“He really liked you, eh?” Yoongi asks as he brushes his teeth in the bathroom.

It was the next morning and they were getting ready to go get breakfast somewhere outside. Sneaking Hoseok out in broad daylight was going to be more difficult than last night. He’d have to figure something out when they went downstairs to the foyer.

“Hmm?”

“Jimin.”

“Oh. Um…” Yoongi walks out curiously to find Hoseok rubbing the back of his neck.

Yoongi smirks. He goes back in to rinse his mouth.

“I guess?” Comes Hoseok’s faint reply after ten whole seconds.

“Come on, he is hardly the type of guy to pounce on someone because of measly attraction.  He must have been waiting for you for a really long time,” Yoongi says, splashing his face with water before walking out of the bathroom with a towel against his cheek.

“What? No, I don’t think so.”

Hoseok looks downright adorable like this. With his bed head and bleary eyes.

“Did he take the kiss further than what you had intended it to be?”

“Uhh—” Hoseok’s evasion tactics were quite poorly developed, he noted as Hoseok shuffled his bare feet against the floor. The colour rising in his cheeks is enough of an answer for Yoongi.

“So he did. He’d been waiting for you. Must have thought you were finally ready. Didn’t you ever ask him about it?”

“Oh God, I’m such a—” Hoseok drops his head in his hands with a groan. “I didn’t think it was like that for him…”

“I guess an apology is in order, eh?”

“A long overdue one,” Hoseok mutters, glaring at his feet darkly.

“Go shower,” Yoongi chuckles at the look in his eyes. “I’ll put some clothes out for you.”

Namjoon had had a long night last night. A very, very long one with staying up for hours after they had gone to bed, frozen in place like some mannequin that had been laid horizontally with its eyes wide open and unmoving in their sockets.

And all because Yoongi—that bastard—had thought it would be a very fun idea to leave him stranded in Seoul with the love of his life for company. And he had left with the love of his life all decked up from head to toe in pajamas.

Namjoon hadn’t bothered to point that out because he liked to be evil too sometimes. He hoped they both froze to death on Yoongi’s bike.

They had also left him along with three nosy children. Children who thought it would be a fun idea to make them sleep on the same bed together no matter how much he had insisted on taking the couch.

“Ah, hyung, I couldn’t possibly let you do that as my guest,” Jimin smiled, keeping Taehyung at an arm’s distance for some reason while Jungkook looked vaguely forlorn off to the side.

Jin, the gentleman that he was, had agreed. “Joonah, I don’t want you to get stiff on that couch. You are far too tall for it.”

So Namjoon had lain there for god knows how long, listening to Jin breathe and watch him sleep out of the corner of his eyes like some creep.

Jin, in complete and shameless honesty, looked absolutely ethereal in his sleep. His perfect features when unanimated seemed to have a timeless beauty to them. And Namjoon could compose poetry on the rise of his nose bridge and the curve of his lips and the slant of his cheekbones and fall of his lids.

It was around that line of thought that his eyes must have drooped shut because he had only regained consciousness right now and by the strength of the light that had diffused into the room and through his eyelids, it was already morning.

Something tickles his chin—something fine, like hair. Upon taking inventory of his body without having opened his eyes, he realizes that that isn’t the only point of contact he has with Jin.

An arm is looped around his waist, a pair of legs tangled with his and a steady breath puffing out over his chest.

And in that moment, Namjoon feels like the luckiest man alive.

He raises his hand to card through Jin’s hair, smiling to himself when he hears a hum of appreciation, the man snuggling closer to him.

“Don’t stop, hyung.”

The thing is, if Namjoon were Yoongi, who wakes up incoherent like some newborn who had no idea about its surroundings, his brain would have taken its own sweet time in processing the sound of the voice that is mumbled into his chest.

But he is not Yoongi and his brain is about a hundred times smarter and faster in registering various stimuli than his roommate’s so it comes as no surprise when all he does on opening his eyes for confirmation…is scream.

And so does the boy in his arms.

The sound waves of their screams superimpose, the constructive interference leads to a new wave with higher amplitude and—

They basically scream each other’s ears off.

Namjoon shoves his bedmate—with far too much force than necessary—and scrambles backwards and backwards over the bed until it is no more which results in him landing on the floor. He groans in pain—definitely heard something crack there—and sits up carefully.

“What on earth are you doing in my bed?” He growls, tempted to laugh at the way the other one has dragged the blanket to hold it up against his chest but the pain makes him rethink his amusement.

“Hyung—I—”

“I put him there!” Jin answers instead and both of them turn to look at the door.

To Namjoon’s immense embarrassment, it’s not just Jin who has witnessed this entire exchange. He sees the other two children of the house standing by the doorframe, Jimin giggling into his hand while Taehyung is doubled over in silent laughter.

“God! Joonah, are you alright? I heard you fall all the way from the kitchen,” Jin asks as he rushes towards him, hands fluttering over his body in concern.

Namjoon hangs his head in shame as Jin helps him to his feet and Taehyung’s laughter rises in volume as if someone had turned the audio knob on a stereo to loud.

“Don’t stop, hyung!” He mimics his friend’s words and Jimin smacks his arm lightly, unable to stop giggles from escaping his lips.

Jungkook abruptly steps off the bed and walks out the door, knocking Taehyung against the doorframe in the process while giving Jimin a wide berth.

“Yah! Did you just shove me on pur—”

They all jump in unison when sound of a door banging shut reverberates through the entire apartment.

They share stunned looks with each other and seconds pass by in silence until Jimin speaks up in a soft voice.

“Did Jungkook just…get mad at you?”

“You do know that I thought you were gay since the first time we met?”

Hoseok splutters, coughing hard and wincing when the water goes up his windpipe.

They are sitting in a neat eatery near Hoseok’s place. It’s small and cute but Hoseok prefers they café they always frequent over this one.

“What?” He whispers hoarsely.

“Yeah. You asked me straight up for my number and then to lunch. What else does a guy make out of it?”

“That I would want to befriend you, perhaps?” Hoseok mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“A man can’t ask someone out without any romantic implications these days,” he throws a glare at Yoongi, sticks his chopsticks in a banchan without looking, puts it into his mouth and chews with as much aggression as he can muster without biting his tongue off.

“So you weren’t joking when you said you thought I had asked you out?”

“Well, technically you were asking me out,” Yoongi shrugs with a cheeky grin.

Hoseok pauses, swallows and clears his throat.

“Does that mean you agreed to a date that day?” He asks, forcing his gaze to lock with Yoongi’s.

A strange silence falls over them both, Yoongi’s eyes unwavering in their steadiness. Hoseok feels a little dizzy—wonders if he is breathing even with how intense his friend’s gaze is and has to resort to drawing an unsteady breath through his lips instead.

He startles when his phone goes off in the quiet café, breaking his stare to answer the call.

“Yes, Jin hyung?"

“Tell me something, Hoseokah,” Yoongi says when Hoseok is getting off the bike.

“Yes?” He asks as he takes his helmet off, handing it to Yoongi who is still seated on the motorcycle.

Jin had called to say that he would be dropping Jungkook off at his school dorms and wanted to make sure that Namjoon had a ride to go home. Hoseok and Yoongi had taken off right after they had finished their breakfast, leaving their conversation unfinished. Yoongi had chosen not to answer and Hoseok somehow hadn’t found it in him to insist for one.

He didn’t know if he wanted to hear the truth or a lie in its place. After all, hadn’t Yoongi chosen to keep Hoseok as a mere friend even when he had assumed Hoseok’s intentions behind asking him out?

Was he even interested in guys? Must be that, he was probably straight. Who could possibly resist Hoseok’s flirtation?

“Do you like Jimin?”

The unexpected nature of the question has Hoseok guffawing instantly, clutching his stomach as he holds onto the bike’s seat for support.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Yoongi grins, watching Hoseok attempt to keep his legs under him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I used to have a tiny crush on him,” Hoseok begins when his laughter finally subsides. “He is a great person. He is kind, considerate, all soft and good-looking and—a great kisser, too.”

Hoseok ignores the warmth in his cheeks and the way Yoongi’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, barreling on.

“It’s just that I see him as someone I need to take care of and protect now, like family, you know?”

A corner of Yoongi’s lips goes up and he nods.

“Go send Namjoon.”

“Yeah, right away. He must be sad that Jin had to leave so early to drop Jungkook off,” he laughs.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow. “Did he tell you why he had to?”

Hoseok shakes his head and says, “I found it weird, too. Usually, he spends as much time as he can with the boys on Sundays since he can’t be away from school a lot. It's his final year after all.”

“I’ll ask Namjoon if he knows anything about it,” Yoongi says and Hoseok agrees.

“I’ll send him downstairs,” he grins before waving at Yoongi and jogging into the building’s foyer.

He had amends to make.

Jin puts on his seatbelt in the driver’s seat, getting ready to drive when he notices that Jungkook hasn’t done the same.

He leans over to the passenger seat, startling the boy and making him press back into the seat as Jin reaches over his shoulder and straps him in.

“You have twenty minutes,” Jin says as starts the car.

“Huh?’

“To explain why I had to pick you up off the couch in the middle of the night and lay you down in Hoseok’s bed instead,” Jin murmurs as he backs out of the parking spot carefully, bracing a hand against the back of Jungkook’s seat as he cranes his neck to look out the rear windshield.

“Hyung…”

“And I expect full disclosure, Jungkookah,” he says in his stern voice when they are out and steps on the accelerator. “For both worrying me and cutting my time with Namjoon short.”

Jin had woken up to a scratchy throat in the middle of the night, craving some water to ease it. He had wandered out to the living room for a glass of water from their open kitchen when he had come across Jungkook’s form curled up on the couch. He had frowned, knowing how he had gone to sleep with Jimin and Taehyung the night before. Jin could not have possibly just thrown a blanket over him and let him sleep in such discomfort so he had carried the boy back to Hoseok’s room.

“I’m sorry for the way you had to wake up. I only put you down between Namjoon and I because I assumed you hadn’t wanted to sleep in Jimin’s bed.”

“No, hyung it’s—it’s fine…Thank you.”

Jin sees Jungkook scrape his nails over the seatbelt out of the corner of his eyes and smiles.

Jin was nothing if not observant. The fact that he had ended up on the bed without even a blanket to protect him from the cold had said a lot. His reaction to Taehyung’s mimicry of his words had only added to it. And when he had quietly dragged his stool to the kitchen side of the counter to sit beside Jin during breakfast while Taehyung and Jimin had watched in stupefaction, Jin had known something was definitely wrong.

Perhaps they had had a fight in the night, but judging the twin looks of shock on the faces of the other two, Jungkook’s behaviour had come as a surprise to them, too.

Then it was certain that Jungkook was the only one upset about something and Jin needed to know to help him.

Kim Seok Jin was soft by nature. He didn’t like arguments or conflict or anybody getting hurt in the middle of all that negativity. And Jungkook? To him, Jeon Jung Kook was just a little boy. He may be in his last school year but he was still a mere child, quiet and meek. When he had first met him on Taehyung’s insistence, he had come to realize that Jungkook would be a late bloomer. He was reserved and shy and yet, the boy had eyes that spoke loudly. Wide, naïve and expressive eyes.

Those same eyes had evoked his paternal instinct. Namjoon always insisted it was maternal but Namjoon clearly couldn’t see that Jin was a man and therefore it was only logical that he would feel fatherly towards Jungkook.

Oh God, now he was beginning to sound like Namjoon.

The point was that Jeon Jung Kook was just a little boy alone in a big city like Seoul and it was clear that he needed someone motherly—a father figure—to look after him.

And if it was something Jin could help with, he would try his best to do so.

“So, what happened, Jungkookah?”

Jin senses hesitation in the air so he attempts to make the boy comfortable.

“Consider me as someone you can confide in. This is a zero judgment zone. And if it makes you uncomfortable, I promise to not tell anyone else.”

He stops the car at a red signal and reaches out to squeeze the boy’s knee, holding his gaze. To his alarm, it is already teary-eyed. He has to pull back when the vehicles behind him start honking and murmurs something comforting instead.

“You know you can tell me anything.”

He lets those words settle between them, knowing that he couldn’t rush the child.

“I saw Jimin hyung kiss Taehyung hyung.”

They almost have an accident.

“Namjoon, Yoongi hyung is waiting for you downstairs,” Hoseok calls as he enters his apartment, toeing off his shoes at the doorway.

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung pokes his head out of Jimin’s room. “I see you two made some progress last night.”

He wags his eyebrows lasciviously.

Hoseok grimaces and says, “Shut up or I will make you shut up.” He directs an exaggerated wink his way as he approaches the room and watches Taehyung’s jaw drop in horror before the head gets retracted into the room.

Namjoon shuffles out of the same room and Hoseok gives him a few encouraging pats on the back.

“No luck last night, eh?” He teases and Namjoon gives him a dead-eyed look instead.

“You have no idea,” he deadpans and continues to shuffle towards the main door.

Hoseok shrugs and walks into Jimin’s room.

“Hyung, you are even wearing his clothes!” Taehyung notes with a grin which stiffens when Hoseok smirks.

“Taehyungah!” Jimin elbows his friend gently.

“No, it’s alright,” Hoseok says as he stalks towards the boy on the bed. “I can just silence him with a—”

Taehyung jumps off the bed and bolts out the room faster than any of them can blink.

Jimin giggles at his friend’s antics and pats the space beside him in invitation.

“So, did something good happen last night?” Jimin asks and Hoseok sighs.

“I told him last night…about my preferences,” Hoseok begins.

Jimin’s eyes widen and he turns to face Hoseok properly on the mattress.

“And what did he say to that?”

“He thought I’d been gay all along!”

Jimin laughs at the indignant look on Hoseok’s face.

“He held me until I fell asleep I think.”

“Awh Hoseokie hyung, you are blushing,” Jimin pokes his cheek and Hoseok attempts to hide his face, triggering another wave of giggles from his flatmate.

“But he made me realize something Jiminah,” Hoseok begins in a grim voice and Jimin sobers up.

“I’m sorry for that day…I hadn’t considered your feelings at all. I was such an idiot for kissing you just to satiate my own curiosity.”

Jimin looks shocked for a moment but then he recovers with a smile.

“Hyung, you needn’t have worried about that. It’s alright.”

“I didn’t hurt your feelings?” Hoseok asks, biting his lip.

Jimin takes Hoseok’s hands in his, playing with his fingers as he speaks.

“I did like you when we were new to each other…and I was attracted to you—how could anyone not be attracted to you?” he laughs softly and Hoseok ducks his head to hide a grin.

“You were my best friend and I didn’t want things to change. But when it happened,” Jimin cants his head and Hoseok knows he is talking about Hoseok’s break-up. “I thought you needed a distraction more than a friend so I…” Jimin bites his lower lip as he looks up at Hoseok.

“So you let me kiss you?!” Hoseok exclaims, a laugh of disbelief escaping him.

“Well…it distracted you, didn’t it?”

“It was effective enough to land me into a sexuality crisis instead of moping about, that’s for sure!”

Jimin laughs and Hoseok shakes his head, his mouth still open in astonishment.

"Think of it this way...you probably wouldn't have asked Yoongi hyung out if it hadn't been for me."

“Who knew Park Ji Min was so sly?” Hoseok shoves his friend lightly.

“But if I hadn’t stopped you…would you have…” He begins carefully, hesitating to say the words.

“Gone all the way?” Jimin asks with downcast eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Yeah…”

Jimin looks up at Hoseok through his lashes for a few seconds and then his lips curve into a coy smile.

Hoseok chokes on air when he gasps and then on his own laughter, shock being the primary emotion that courses through him.

“I can’t believe you! Yoongi hyung was right. You are no mochi!” Hoseok grabs a pillow off the bed and lobs it at Jimin’s head. He falls back on the mattress and Hoseok takes the chance to unleash his tickles on the boy, guffawing along with Jimin’s high-pitched laughter.

“No! Leave my soul mate alone!” Taehyung howls as he darts into the room, jumping on the bed and attacking Hoseok with a pillow and all his might.

Hoseok flops down beside Jimin who grabs the opportunity to tickle him while Taehyung holds him down.

They spend quite a long time like that, tormenting Hoseok with tickles until there are tears in his eyes.

Jin walks into Jungkook’s hostel room with a little trepidation as to what to expect from it. He wasn’t a neat freak per se but he always invested time and effort into maintaining his surroundings and he really wasn’t looking forward to entering a 16 year old boy’s room.

When Jungkook had asked in a soft voice as he scuffed his shoe against the floor if he would like to go upstairs, Jin hadn’t been able to refuse the child.

“Jungkookah! How are you back so soon?”

“What’s wrong, Kookah? Why do you look like that?”

Jin shuts the door behind him softly as Jungkook’s roommates crowd around him and looks about the surprisingly tidy room. Three single beds lie by three walls of the small room with a large wardrobe lining the fourth wall along with a door that he presumes leads to a bathroom.

“I brought Jin hyung over. I hope you don’t mind,” Jungkook murmurs and gestures towards Jin.

Both the boys start, only noticing his presence then and rush to greet him.

He introduces himself and greets them, too, smiling at the way one of the boys repeatedly apologizes for not having noticed him sooner.

“My name is Bambam,” one of them says with a bright grin.

“And you are?” Jin asks the quieter of the two.

“Kim Yu Gyeom. It’s nice to meet you. Jungkook talks a lot about you,” he responds with a soft smile. “Would you like something to drink?”

Jin raises his eyebrows at the boy’s hospitality and shakes his head. “Water will be fine, thank you.”

“Hyung, are you going to play a part in a TV drama?” Bambam asks excitedly. “We have heard all about your acting from Kook.”

Yugyeom clears his throat pointedly from his corner where he is pouring water out of a bottle into a ceramic mug.

“Um…you don’t mind if I call you hyung, right?” Bambam asks, grinning sheepishly.

Jin smiles at the boy’s embarrassment and shakes his head.

“It’s fine. And as for the drama, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I haven’t signed with any agency as yet.”

Jin takes the proffered mug of water from Yugyeom and sits down on the chair Bambam hastily clears up. He dumps all the clothes on the bed across from Jungkook’s and sits on the pile with a grin.

Ah, there was the kind of behaviour he was expecting from a child of Jungkook’s age.

“Would you like anything else? I could get it from the canteen,” Yugyeom offers and Jin thinks that perhaps he is being out-mothered by this child. But he was thankful that such a person existed around Jungkook.

“Ah, no thank you. It’s fine,” he smiles.

Yugyeom nods and takes the empty mug back to the desk it came from. He exchanges quick words with Bambam and then they are gone, Yugyeom trying to discreetly drag a reluctant Bambam out the room who shouts his goodbyes and respects through the closed door.

“I like your roommates,” Jin chuckles, turning around to find Jungkook as a shapeless pile under his blanket.

“Jungkookah,” he sighs.  “Have you tried talking to either of them about this?”

“No,” came a mumbled response from the boy.

“Turn around and face me first, I can barely hear you,” Jin murmurs with a pat to what he thinks might be Jungkook’s butt.

The lump moves under the covers, wiggling for a moment before a head peeks out over its edge.

Now, the tricky thing was to guess which one of the boys he was upset over. Usually he would consider the frequency of blushing around said subject of interest to be an indicator of the direction of his feelings but then Jungkook was almost always red around both the boys. So that wouldn’t work.

If he had shoved Taehyung without harming Jimin, the probability was in Jimin’s favour. But considering how he had emphasized the words ‘kiss’ when he told Jin about the incident in the car says that the action had been unexpected coming from Jimin and directed towards Taehyung. Which hopefully meant— 

“I think that you should try talking to Taehyung before jumping to conclusions, honey. Who knows, Taehyung might just like you back. You already know of his orientation, thanks to his announcement in that restaurant that day,” Jin rolls his eyes at the memory. Trust Taehyung to be dramatic enough to make a show out of coming out.

“Hyung, I used to think he liked you!”

Jin splutters, an embarrassed squeak escaping his lips and protests.

“What?! Of course not. He just admires me, Kookah.”

“You would think otherwise with the way he talks about you.”

“He is a just a child, Jungkook. I’d believe you more if you were to say that Joon likes me.”

“Well, hyung does.”

Jin just laughs at the absurdity of the statement and tries a different tactic.

“Jungkookah, do you consider him your best friend?”

“Yes…”

“And don’t you think he is just as upset as you are that you asked me to bring you back when you three had a whole day planned?”

“Maybe…”

“You know how stumped and upset Taehyung was as to why you would treat him like that,” Jin says.

“I just wish—” Jungkook goes silent again.

“That he would take a look at you?” Jin raises his eyebrows.

“…yes.”

“I know that feeling all too well, Kookah. And you’ll only know if he sees you the same way if you are honest with him.”

“But I saw them kiss!”  He wails, burying his face under the blanket.

“…I admit it can be a bit of a shocker,” Jin concedes with a steep tilt of his head. “But I really, really don’t think that Jimin even likes Taehyung that way.”

“I don’t want to tell him…”

“And why is that?”

“Because he is one of my best friends.”

Jin melts at the softness of those muffled words and smiles, running a hand through Jungkook’s hair.

“And maybe, if you told him the truth, maybe you could be something else, something beyond just best friends.”

Jungkook draws the blanket away from his face, looking over it to lock eyes with Jin.

"And if your best friend were to confess to you, hyung? If you didn't see him that way, would you still stay best friends with him?"

Jin withdraws his hand from Jungkook's hair to let it fall in his lap. He thinks that the question isn't really as innocent as it comes off, a clear implication underlying those words.

Yet he answers with as much honesty as he can muster.

"I think I would."

Chapter Text

Taehyung hums at the pleasant tingle that runs through him when Jimin runs his hand through Taehyung’s hair as he lies with his head in his lap.

“Taehyungah,” Jimin sighs. “Should you really be spending so much time here when finals are coming?”

“Hyung, hush, just let me enjoy your company,” Taehyung mutters with his eyes still closed and turns on his side, wrapping his arms around Jimin as best as he can lying down. He likes how Jimin can multitask with his mind on the textbook he holds up before him and his hand in Taehyung’s hair. He doesn’t like disturbing Jimin during his study sessions like this, but he can’t help but sulk.

The thought of Jungkook being upset with him bothers him more than he can put into words. It hurts.

Jimin stops caressing his hair and Taehyung looks up with a slight pout.

“I wish you two would just sort it out.”

Another reason why Taehyung loves Jimin? The boy can read his mind. It’s freaky but it’s convenient. He never has to act around him.

“Hyung, if I try to call, he doesn’t answer. If I text him, he reads the messages but leaves them without a response. I had to call Yugyeom just to confirm that he is alive. The dorms won’t even let me see him without his express permission,” he rants. “I’ve tried my best. He just doesn’t want to see me …”

Jimin pats Taehyung’s head as the boy hugs Jimin closer, burying his face in Jimin’s stomach.

“Do you think…he doesn’t want to be friends anymore?” Taehyung mumbles into his shirt in a small voice.

“Of course not, Tae!” Jimin whispers. “He was your very first best friend in this city as you told me yourself. And whatever may happen, best friends don’t just break up.”

Taehyung thinks about that weekend. How horrified he had been after Hoseok had kissed him because of that stupid punishment, how happy when Jimin had corrected his views on the concept by giving him a little peck of his own. He stills remembers vividly how Jimin had drawn back with an angelic smile and how Taehyung had asked for another one only for his friend to blush and refuse because “affection comes naturally and not on cue”.

He remembers how they had all gone to bed, Jungkook strangely quiet and withdrawn the whole time—he should have noticed then, he should have tried to make him laugh—and how he had woken up only to Jimin. Taehyung frowns at the thought of Jungkook upset about something enough to become aloof. He knew that that was how the boy dealt with his problems—by withdrawing into his head until he had a solution. But to distance himself so completely?!

“Taehyungah, don’t you worry. It’s Jungkook. He will come around.”

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you come away with me after our exams are over?”

Taehyung feels Jimin’s surprise in the single beat of silence that passes. Then:

“Sure. Where would you like to go?”

“Daegu.”

Yoongi had a bone to pick with Jungkook. Ever since that ill-fated Sunday morning, Taehyung had been upset about how Jungkook had been angry at him for the first time in the entire span of their friendship. Jimin had been empathizing with Taehyung’s feelings, becoming sad himself which had triggered Hoseok to feel down almost all the time.

And if there was one thing Yoongi absolutely detested, it was anybody making Jung Ho Seok sad. And the constant moue of Hoseok’s lips was all Jungkook’s fault.

His exams were approaching. He didn’t have time to mope around because Hoseok was moping around. He basically didn’t have time for this shit.

According to Namjoon who had heard from a worried Jin that day after he had dropped off Jungkook at his school hostel, the boy has “things he needs to work out”.

That was it. Trust Jin to be cryptic about a crucial piece of information.

Therefore, Yoongi had to go seek Jungkook out personally. He wasn’t going to listen to Jin’s advice about leaving the kid alone until he could figure things out for himself.

It had been a painful four point five weeks and counting with the entire maknae line sad and quiet. Which was scary in itself, to be honest. Taehyung had been having episodes of extreme, joyous activity and then bouts of sheer depression where he would come over to Hoseok’s apartment just to lie around on any flat surface available. It had been such worrisome behaviour that Taehyung’s college dorm-mate, Sung Jae, had called up Jimin to ask after Taehyung’s health and whereabouts.

It did make sense to Yoongi. Taehyung's best friend refused to talk to him and Taehyung had no idea why. But it didn’t make sense to Yoongi how their maknae had single-handedly brought down the entire energy of their group.

Wang had heard from Sung Jae and found out from Namjoon about how the seven of them were practically falling apart and then he had talked to Yoongi at their usual café with all kinds of prying questions like—

“You still haven’t asked Hobi out?”

“Who said you could call him Hobi?”

“What are you waiting for? The solstice or something?”

“How is that even relevant?”

“Hey, Jackson! What’s taking the payment so long, guys?”

“Nothing, Hoseokah, I was just complimenting the café’s services in their feedback form—”

“Hobi, if you’re looking for a date, I know just the guy for y—”

“—so that Wang here doesn’t lose his job.”

But then Hoseok had gotten all flustered and red at Jackson’s words and that really lecherous wink. He obviously hadn’t expected Wang to know about his preferences, considering how he had never told him. Yoongi wanted to smack Wang in the face for diving into a speech about how he had the best gaydar in town or some such bullshit.

Hoseok hadn’t met his eyes after that. He really didn’t have a predilection for violence but his mind was coming up with interestingly creative ways as to how he could cause some serious bodily harm to Wang.

He hadn’t dared to go back to the café after that. Jackson Wang had lost two loyal customers because he loved poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Namjoon had been mumbling something about Jin being far more reserved ever since that day and he had suspicions that Jungkook was involved so he was also quite supportive of going to Jungkook and giving him a little shove in the right direction.

Indecisive people worked best with a prod from another after all.

“You asked him what now?”

“If Jin hyung would still be friends with—”

“No, I heard you the first time around, Jungkook. Why would you even say that to him?!”

They had invited Jungkook for a chat at a café by his school so he wouldn’t have to meet them too far from it.

“You knew?” Jungkook asked, a little in awe.

“Since the first day we met, you dolt. You look at him with stars in your eyes. You think your hyung is blind?”

Jungkook then began to look at teensy bit sick at that so he quickly added something more.

“But you can rest assured that Taehyung is completely oblivious to your feelings.”

"But what made you leave?”

“Didn’t Jin hyung tell you?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide.

“You’d think his loyalties lie with me but nope,” Namjoon mumbled and then stabbed Jungkook’s walnut brownie with a fork.

They had heard the whole thing. About Jin having confronted him in the car ride back to his school, how their car almost crashed into another because Jin hadn’t been expecting that, etcetera etcetera.

Yoongi had also almost walked the stairway to heaven while choking on his milkshake while Namjoon had ejected his black coffee through his nostrils when they’d heard exactly what had gotten Jungkook all upset.

Now, Jungkook had just gotten to the part about his conversation with Jin at his dorm. And Namjoon did not like what he was hearing.

Honestly, Yoongi had no idea why he was getting worked up about poorly veiled words. It’s not like Seokjin was a genius. He couldn’t have possibly put two and two together to realize that Jungkook had been hinting at Namjoon’s feelings.

“Jungkookah…”

“I know what it’s like to like your best friend, hyung…That’s why I had asked you if you liked anybody when we were at Jimin hyung’s house.”

“So that Jin hyung would take a hint, hah,” Yoongi laughs.

“You were worried about that—about me—this entire time?” Namjoon asks, the surprise clear on his face.

“I—I’m sorry for—”

“Kookah, don’t be,” Yoongi cuts off his apology, knowing that Namjoon was too out of it to do so himself. “You did well, yeah? You were just being a considerate dongsaeng.”

“Namjoon, tell him,” he elbows the other in the gut.

Namjoon teeters on his chair and then rights himself, mumbling yeses under his breath before he raises his eyes to focus somewhere in the air.

“I have to go,” he says.

And so he does.

The door opens to him and Namjoon sags in relief but tenses up the very next moment when he notes the condition Jin is in.

“Hyung,” he swallows, walking inside and shutting the door behind him as sudden concern raises his arms to pull the man in for a hug.

“Namjoonah,” Jin whispers into the crook of his neck as he holds on to him just as tightly.

Namjoon runs his fingers through Jin’s hair in a manner that he hopes is comforting before pulling him toward the couch.

He sees the nest of cushions and blankets Jin has made on it, sees the state of the flat and the soju bottles scattered everywhere and wonders if Jin had even had someone to take care of him this entire time, cursing himself for not having come sooner.

“Hyung, have you been eating and drinking properly?” He asks Jin who has curled up against an armrest, head resting on knees. There’s colour high on his cheeks and a glazed look to his eyes. He is drunk yet again. Namjoon sighs at the thought.

“Hmm.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

Namjoon hurries into the kitchen and back with a tall glass of water and a full water bottle just in case.

“Drink first, talk after,” he instructs and Jin obeys mutely, putting down the empty glass on the table gently.

“How long were you planning on keeping it from me?” He asks, without meeting Namjoon’s eyes.

“Keep what—”

“He was my best friend, Namjoon.”

Jin turns his full glare on him and Namjoon recoils in shock at the anger in those eyes.

And instantly, puzzle pieces Namjoon hadn't even been aware of came together to form a bigger picture in his mind.

The drinking—Jin's strangely hysterical laughter when he had been on the phone—the kiss. He had heard Junghwan. Like a selfish fool, Namjoon had rushed here in the fear that perhaps Jin had put two and two together about Jungkook’s thinly veiled words and this entire time, Jin had been heartbroken over Junghwan.

He lets his eyes fall to his lap, shame prickling over his skin at his behaviour. How could he have been so blind?

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” he murmurs.

“No. It wasn’t. Good that I found out. I won’t be able to look him in the eye the next time he visits. Maybe it will be next year, who knows?” Jin rants, sitting up cross-legged on the couch cushion.

“Hyung…is that why you drank so much that night?” Namjoon asks in an attempt to put a stop to his tirade.

“What else was I supposed to do? I had just found out that my best friend for years had been in love with me. And instead of being like a normal teenager and confessing, he had hidden it from me and proceeded to do so for years until he finally couldn’t take my obliviousness anymore and shunned me as if I had—as if I had—”

Jin hiccups or sobs and Namjoon reaches out to rest his hand on Jin’s knee but Jin slaps it away.

“Hyung—”

“I spent years wondering what I had done to deserve that, Namjoon!” Jin reaches out a fist to hit him, maybe, but it only lands limply in Namjoon’s lap and he holds it. He uncurls it.

“You didn’t deserve that, hyung. None of this is your fault. You should know that.”

“I would not have just rejected him as a person—as my friend—because of his feelings, Joonah. I wouldn’t have pushed him away. Did he think I would have ostracized him?”

“Have you thought that perhaps just being friends might not have been enough for him? Could have been painful even, for him to have shunned you like this? Or maybe he couldn’t risk it…losing you to the awkwardness that would have been sure to follow.”

It is difficult for Namjoon to say those words. They ring true for his future, too and he doesn’t want to be reevaluating all the ways in which telling Jin the truth could go wrong. He has mulled it over enough in his head for his nights to turn sleepless.

“If only he had told me…” Jin mutters under his breath and some more but Namjoon catches the beginning clearly.

“What would have been different had he told you?”

Jin’s unintelligible mumblings come to a stuttering halt.

Namjoon knows that words came out harsher than he intended them to, he didn’t mean to sound angry…but the way Jin had said those words—as if Junghwan hadn’t been entitled to keeping that one secret.

His chest is heaving from having used up all of his breath in ranting mindlessly and his eyes are dazed.  And when he holds Namjoon’s stare, his gaze is wondering, with maybe a touch of trepidation.

Namjoon doesn’t want to break the train of thoughts and possibilities he can see scuttling through Jin’s mind but he needs to ask this.

“What if you were given another chance, hyung?” He makes his voice drop an octave, makes sure he sounds gentle this time.

“Another chance?” Jin asks as if he were in a trance.

“If I were to do this...”

Namjoon moves closer to him, slowly and carefully. He raises a hand to Jin’s jaw to tilt it the right way. And lets his lips wander until they are only a mere few inches apart from the other pair. What’s surprising is that Jin lets him. And that’s encouraging, too, giving him a burst of boldness.

There’s a quiet gasp and then silence where Seokjin only regards his lips. Up close, it’s even more difficult for Namjoon to maintain his composure. He can feel the blood rush to his cheeks.

“Joonah, why—”

“This is what he wanted, hyung,” he says and draws back just a little. “Would you have been able to give him this? Would it have been any different had he told you?” He reiterates his sentiments.

A nervous laugh escapes Jin’s lips.

“I thought you were about to kiss me.”

Namjoon locks eyes with Jin. It was now or never.

“I won’t unless you ask me to. Until…you ask me to.”

Eyelids flutter and lips part. And then keep closing and parting like some guppy.

“Joonah?”

Namjoon lets his hand drop, leaning back to give both of them some breathing space before he says it.

“I like you, hyung.”

Cue another gasp.

“And I would like it if you were to give me a chance.”

And another one.

“A chance? Joon—I’m not gay.”

“I’m not asking you to be, hyung. I just wish you’d see me for the person that I am and not just my—my body,” he colours, coughing into his fist.

“But I—”

“Hyung, have you heard of the sexual fluidity theory?”

“The—the what?”

“Our sexuality isn’t rigid. It can transition overtime. In fact, Alfred Kinsey said it might be a spectrum!”

“Kim Nam Joon I have—”

“Hyung, did you know that when I carried you to bed after you passed out on the couch completely drunk, you held me down by my neck and kissed me?” Namjoon just throws it out there, faking nonchalance. Conveniently leaving out a minor detail. 

Jin’s hand flies to his mouth in shock with a louder gasp this time.

“I did what?” He asks in an almost terrified whisper, eyes wide enough to rival Jungkook's.

“Hyung, if you let me—if you look past my gender—I promise I won’t let you down. I won’t do anything untoward. Just let me court you,” he urges.

“C—Court me?”

“Woo you?” Namjoon tilts his head.

“Woo me?!” Jin looks a little offended, though he has no idea why…

So he tries another tactic.

“Hyung, will you just let me show you how I feel?”

Now, Yoongi’s next job is to go over to Hoseok’s place and figure out what on earth is cooking between Jimin and Taehyung before he can encourage Jungkook to go get his man. After all, he couldn’t give the kid false hope.

But how is he to confront the other two with his question of the nature of their relationship if he cannot reveal what he knows about it? Jungkook deserves the right to confess. And Yoongi cannot mess that up either. So to bring this up would be like navigating a minefield.

Unfortunately, he never gets around to doing it.

Because: exams.

Jimin and Taehyung had their major exams coming up that would propel them into their next step into higher education of a university. Jungkook would be finishing up in school with his big boards coming up to join a pre-university college course.

Each one of them dives into preparing for their impending finals along with juggling submissions and practical exams, pulling all-nighters or at least attempting to do so.

Namjoon never lasted past 3 AM, drooling all over his books and Yoongi would have to drag him along with his chair to the edge of the boy’s bed before shoving Namjoon onto it unceremoniously. He hardly had the upper body strength for lifting the man.

He’d have Hoseok to keep him company into the night via texts and selfies during the little break times they had organized after synchronizing their study routines.

And he found that it was an amazing thing to look at a picture of a beaming Hoseok in the silent hours of rising dawn (save for Namjoon’s snores punctuating every other minute, of course). Just looking into those pixelated eyes would give him a fresh surge of might enough to battle his hopelessness regarding the finals.

Sometimes they would video call—upon Hoseok’s insistence because apparently, seeing a defeated Yoongi suffering in misery gave him a sense of camaraderie (Yoongi believed it to be satisfaction at mutual despair)—sometimes he would have to spend a solid ten minutes of that watching Hoseok fawn over a sleeping Jimin. His quiet, drawn out squeals wouldn’t even make Jimin twitch but make Namjoon stir over on Yoongi’s side of the call.

Yoongi would try to stifle his laughter, fond as it was, so as to not disturb his roommate further. Jung Hoseok was everything that he thought of these days. In fact, his entire day revolved around the man, if he were to put his thoughts into words.

But he wasn’t afraid to admit it anymore. Especially now that he knew for sure that he had a chance with the man. Unlike Namjoon who was a wolf howling at a light bulb, mistaking it for the moon—or something...(In Yoongi's defense, he wasn't good at analogies but, at least he wasn't as bad as Taehyung). Namjoon had asked him to “hurry along” with the confession. Ever since his own confession, it was like the kid had grown an even stronger spine for talking back to him. It wasn’t even like Jin had been eager in accepting the proposal (he had spoken to the man himself and Jin had just come off as really, really confused as to what was going to happen) but Namjoon was over the moon and Yoongi wasn’t a total jerk of a friend so he would lend a patient ear whenever Namjoon would gush about Jin’s latest responses to his advances.

Yoongi drops his pencil on the desk and leans back in his chair to rub a hand over his face. He checks the time on his phone: 1:13 AM. He turns around to find Namjoon slumped over his desk and lets out a defeated sigh. He gets to his feet, drags Namjoon’s chair till it is aligned alongside the edge of his bed and pushes Namjoon head-first onto the mattress where he sprawls out in a rather undignified manner as usual. Yoongi makes sure that his neck isn’t bent oddly enough to snap his spine, straightens off the legs hanging over the edge of the bed and throws a blanket on top of him.

That's when his phone begins to vibrate loudly on his desk across the room and Yoongi leaps to silence it before Namjoon stirs.

He frowns at the caller ID, looking over his shoulder to confirm whether Namjoon is still fast asleep.

“Jiminah, what’s wrong?” He begins because he has never received a call from the boy this late into the night before.

“Hyung…”

“Yes, Jimin. Tell me, what is it?” Yoongi straightens up at the sound of Jimin’s voice. It sounds worried and even though he knows Jimin is a worrier right in line with Jin but something about it raises Yoongi’s hackles, wakes up his protective side.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this but, Yoongi hyung…” Jimin’s voice dipped in volume and Yoongi heard something vague about an exam the day after before there was a pause and a sharp inhale. “I need you to come over. It’s Hoseok hyung.”

“It’s her…She came back.”

His heart skips a beat and then starts pounding double time.

Yoongi doesn’t have to hear another word of explanation. He hangs up, stuffs his phone in his jeans pocket and books and a spare shirt in his backpack. He puts on a light jacket, his black baseball cap and plucks his bike keys off the hook on the wall over his desk.

It doesn’t matter if he’s gonna have to

He eyes Namjoon for a moment, biting his lip before sighing to himself. He pens a quick explanatory note on a post-it and slaps it onto a textbook on Namjoon’s desk.

At Hoseok’s. Will be back ASAP.

“Where is he?” Yoongi asks the moment the door opens to let him in.

“He has locked himself in his room,” Jimin murmurs. “He didn’t even have dinner tonight.”

Yoongi nods and strides towards the door, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He raises a fist and raps the door softly.

“He won’t open the door to let me in, hyung. And he has an exam the day after tomorrow!”

“How long has he been in there?” Yoongi asks, wondering if Hoseok had even heard his knocking.

“Since 7 PM…ever since he came back from seeing her.” Jimin hangs his head.

“Why would he go to see her?” Yoongi growls under his breath.

Jimin swallows and shrugs. “Old habits?”

Yoongi knocks again, louder this time. “Hoseokah, it’s me.”

There’s steady silence from the other end of the room and Yoongi and Jimin exchange a worried look.

“Jung Ho Seok, it is Min Yoon Gi standing on the other side of this door and if you don’t—”

The door is wrenched open and Jimin take a step back in surprise while Yoongi takes a step closer to Hoseok.

Hoseok stands in front of them, his chest heaving and eyes wide against the total darkness of his room.

“Hoseokah. Are you alright?”

“Hyung,” Hoseok whispers and suddenly, Yoongi is being pulled into an embrace, the arms winding around him tight and warm.

Yoongi’s hands twitch uselessly in the air before he carefully raises a palm to Hoseok’s back.

He hears a sniffle and then another, coupled with the sound of the door closing softly behind them. He must thank Jimin for his discretion tomorrow.

“Seokseokah…It’s okay.”

The arms around him tighten, a hand fisting into the fabric against his back and Yoongi finds his own hand rising to run through the mop of the soft orange locks.

“Yoongi hyung.”

His name is mumbled into the curve of his neck, lips moving against the skin there. But that isn’t what makes him freeze over. It’s the sheer vulnerability of his voice, the obvious hurt in the drawn out way he speaks.

Yoongi lets his hand rest on the nape of Hoseok’s neck and whispers,

“It’s alright. I’ve got you now.”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, hyung. But you should hear it from him.”

Yoongi purses his lips and runs a hand through his hair.

He had never seen Hoseok this…upset. Upset would have been an understatement. He had spent the entire night awake in what had been the aftermath of Hoseok’s breakdown.

He had spent all the time that Hoseok had been awake by holding onto the boy as gently as he could, worried that even a tight hug would break him further.

Yoongi couldn’t believe that someone could so easily tear apart someone as genuine and happy as Jung Ho Seok with just a few words.

He doesn’t want to think about the almost silent and endless weeping that left salty tracks all over the soft skin of his cheeks, only for the tears to terminate somewhere onto Yoongi’s skin. And this was only after the sobs that wracked his body. Those were perhaps the hardest to sit through.

He doesn’t even want to remember the slightest of whimpers he had heard escape the boy’s lips.

The thing is…you think you will be there for your friends when they are down. You think that you’ll be the “friend in need” that they all harp on about. That you’ll be the shoulder for them to cry on and the crutch they need until they can walk by themselves.

But people leave out something very important.

Nobody tells you how.

Nobody tells you how to not succumb to the gut-wrenching shock and pain that erupts in your chest when your friend is suffering so openly. Nobody tells you how to hold back your own tears and be the stoic, staunch pillar that your friend needs and wants. Nobody tells you how to put your own breakdown on hold, one that is banging down your door as someone who means so much to you falls apart right in front of your eyes.

And Hoseok means so much more to him than a mere friend.

But most importantly, nobody tells you how to be there for them.

Yoongi has never felt so useless in his life—so helpless as Hoseok trembled right there in his arms and he couldn’t do anything about it. He could do nothing except wipe the tears that kept coming and whispering the occasional ‘hush’.

As if Hoseok were some cranky 10 month old that just wouldn’t let him sleep.

What does one do?

It’s not something he had ever learnt and as the night went on, he felt even more useless when Hoseok had finally cried himself dry, falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

And he had decided that the only useful thing he could do would be to hunt whoever this woman was and give her a piece of his mind.

But before that, he needed to do his best in taking care of Hoseok. So in the early hours of morning, he had come out of the room only to find Jimin hunched over his books in the living room.

“Jimin, I can’t—”

“I can’t either, hyung. You think it was easy for me to have seen him go through this same thing the first time around? I know you want to know why but, I’m not the right person to ask.”

“Jiminah,” Yoongi sighs again, shoulders drooping. “I doubt he would tell me if he hasn’t after all this time.”

Jimin simply shrugs, handing him the bowl of cold water he had requested.

“I’m sorry, hyung. But you’re gonna have to ask this one to Hoseok hyung himself.”

Yoongi holds Jimin’s stare, almost challenging in the way his eyebrows are drawn over the lids but, he finally lets his gaze drop, knowing that the kid is right.

He looks up with a tired half-smile. “I’m glad he has you for a friend.”

Jimin lets out a tinkling laugh and says, “So is he.”

Yoongi huffs, smiling wider at the sound of Jimin’s laughter and braces his heart for the sight that Hoseok is going to be before entering his room.

He shuts the door behind him soundlessly and slowly pads over to the bed where Hoseok’s still asleep.

Yoongi sits cross-legged beside him on the mattress and balances the bowl on his knee, careful to not spill the water. And then he waits.

Hoseok looks so peaceful like this, the convex curve of his closed eyelids giving nothing away of the turmoil he had been through just a few hours ago. Yoongi sighs, reaching out with one finger to brush away a stray strand of hair.

However, Hoseok’s eyes open at the touch and Yoongi retracts his hand as if burnt, knowing full well that his friend had noticed it. Hoseok tries to sit up and Yoongi watches his lips curl in a wince as his hand goes to rub against his forehead.

“Head rush,” Hoseok mutters and Yoongi almost grimaces at the crack in his voice.

He pushes him back down gently by the shoulder even when Hoseok protests.

“Hyung I’m fine!” He rasps.

“Seokah, let me do this for you,” Yoongi holds his gaze with a steady stare of his own and to his surprise, the usually stubborn Hoseok complies mutely, leaning back under the gentle push of Yoongi’s hand on his shoulder until his head rests on the pillow.

Yoongi knows Hoseok is watching him even when he doesn’t meet the other’s eyes as he dips the cloth—a handkerchief of JImin’s—into the cold water and squeezes it until the last drops have fallen back into the bowl before placing it away on the sidetable.

He turns back to Hoseok and flattens and folds the kerchief until it is wide enough and lets it hover over Hoseok’s open eyes.

“Cure for puffy eyes,” he says simply, indicating that Hoseok should close his and his friend, yet again, obeys without a word.

A slight hiss escapes Hoseok’s lips when Yoongi gently presses down on the cloth with his fingertips. Yoongi waits about ten seconds before flipping it over.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” He murmurs, dipping the cloth in water once again before placing it back on Hoseok’s closed eyes.

Hoseok gives an affirmative hum and Yoongi smiles, watching the tension drain out of his shoulders. At least he could be of some help. Yoongi rewets the cloth a couple more times to repeat the process.

“What time is it?” Hoseok asks and Yoongi consults the sky out of Hoseok’s window to answer, his hand still holding the wet press down on his friend’s tired eyes.

“Just about to be dawn.”

Tender rays of sunlight just begin to alight upon them and Yoongi watches Hoseok’s chest rise and fall in the peaceful quiet of the morning.

His eyes trace upwards: over Hoseok’s neck, then his chin and then—

He thinks about the way those lips had curved in pain last night, thinks about the way he could make it better but looks away at the thought. And looks right into Hoseok’s eyes.

Hoseok’s quick to catch him in the act yet again, his hands having lifted off Yoongi’s hand as well as the wet cloth only to see Yoongi avert his eyes. Yoongi just hopes he doesn’t make much out of his best friend staring at his lips.

He tries to pull out of his grip and looks up, startled, when Hoseok doesn’t let him, almost pulling him by his wrist until their hands are resting on the pillow right by his head and Yoongi has to stop himself from falling on top of the boy by bracing his torso with a palm flat against the mattress. Yoongi can feel the blood rush up his neck almost instantly and he’s suddenly very nervous even though Hoseok is the one caged under him. Unwilling to let it show, Yoongi leans over him to check up on the puffiness around Hoseok’s eyes. He smiles faintly when he sees that they aren’t bloodshot or swollen anymore.

Hoseok, however, frowns and drops the handkerchief onto the bed.

“Yah, that’s wet. Do you want a cold patch on—”

Yoongi shuts up rather abruptly because Hoseok’s clear, dark brown eyes are boring into his, fingertips of the hand that is not holding Yoongi’s wrist ghosting over his dark circles.

“You stayed up all night…” Hoseok whispers the statement.

Yoongi gapes wordlessly, only just noticing the way their proximity might look to a third party. With him hovering over Hoseok, they’re close enough for his bangs to tickle the skin of the latter's forehead.

“What time did you even come here?”

Now his fingertips are brushing dangerously close to his cheeks and Yoongi swallows before answering quietly.

“Jimin called me around 1 AM last night.”

Hoseok makes a sound of disapproval and Yoongi is quick to defend their friend.

“He was worried,” he says and then pauses. “So was I,” he admits in an even quieter voice.

There’s a rather pregnant pause at his words. One where Hoseok is clearly surprised at Yoongi’s concern and where Yoongi wishes he could swallow his words.

Usually, it wouldn’t kill him to be honest about how concerned he gets when it comes to his friends. But this is Hoseok. And he sounded far more emotional than he intended to but now it’s out there and he might as well go along with it.

“Are you…alright now?”

Hoseok simply blinks up at him.

“God, Hoseok. Just tell me. I want to help make you feel better.”

And just like that, something takes shape in Hoseok’s eyes. Something determined. Something Yoongi thinks he should fear or avoid. But for the life of him, he can’t seem to make that decision when faced with those eyes.

“Help me forget her, hyung.”

Yoongi blinks and maybe stops breathing, too. Because the hand on his cheek trails past his ear and the fingers weave their way through the fine hair on the back of his neck.

Hoseok lies under him, eyes lit by the muted rays of dawn seeping in through the curtains.  And the warmth of his fingers on the back of his neck, their breaths mingling in the quiet, all of it makes this moment surreal.

There’s a nagging thought in a distant corner of his head, something that he wants to focus on—that he needs to focus on. But it’s not as compelling as the request Hoseok has just made.

His fingers are hot brands on his wrist, Yoongi’s chest painfully aware of every breath that passes through him.

Yoongi tracks the path that Hoseok’s bright eyes take, his heart freezing over in his chest, his body stilling along with its beats.

The look implies enough.

And it also says a lot more than he can handle at the moment.

He blinks and they are a hair’s breadth away from each other, not too far and yet the other is looks so untouchable.

And he gives in, he leans in just enough for Hoseok’s eyes to fall shut. Just enough for their lips to brush—so softly, that he wonders if he imagined it.

And then he reels back, Hoseok’s eyes snapping open as he tries to hold Yoongi in place.

That’s when his mind reminds him. He doesn’t want it to be like this.

“Hoseokah.”

His free hand has come to rest on the other’s chest without having noticed the action.

That is a mistake, too, because he can feel Hoseok’s heart under his fingertips. Thudding away against his rib cage, miming the exact speed of Yoongi’s own heart.

“Hoseok, we—I shouldn’t.”

Another mistake—Yoongi has been making a lot of them lately.

And then the door opens and Yoongi can’t help the wince that mars his features.

He sees it happen, sees something shut down in Hoseok’s eyes as Jimin hurriedly apologizes—“Oh God! Sorry! I just b-brought water” and attempts to leave without making it sound as if he is giving them privacy for—for what, Yoongi doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to know. What might have happened had he let it happen?

A vulnerable Hoseok is not a Hoseok in his right mind. And he was better than taking advantage of that. He wouldn’t be like that. Right now, he was a friend.

But then Hoseok is shoving him away and he almost falls off the bed by the force of it, managing to scramble to his feet at the last minute.

The door to the bathroom bangs shut before he has blinked and he rushes to it, trying the knob and then failing to open it.

“Hoseok, open the damn door. You’re getting it all wrong. Hoseok!” He bangs his fist against the wood a few times fruitlessly.

“Hoseok, please,” he urges.

Nothing but stark silence permeates the air as his response.

“Hyung…”

Yoongi turns to look at Jimin sharply and the younger boy almost wilts under his gaze. But he hadn’t meant for it to be accusatory.

He looks back at the door, lets his forehead drop against it and then he hears it and something within him cracks.

Muffled sobs resound from within the sparsely furnished bathroom, creeping through the crack under the door and making his ears ring with them.

“Seokah?” He mumbles weakly, fingers scratching against the door as they look for purchase.

There's a sharp inhale, and then-

"Leave me alone."

Namjoon smiles down at the bouquet of flowers he holds and brings them up to his nose to inhale the fragrance. They are a vibrant bunch of different colours: lilac, lavender, violet and purple.

He has come to Seokjin’s flat for a follow-up date after the last time. He remembers their last date, biting his lip as he tries to control his smile.

They had gone for a walk by the Han River when Namjoon had gathered the courage to hold Jin’s hand for the first time ever.

“Yah, what do you think you’re doing? People are watching,” Jin protests but lets him. Namjoon’s heart takes off instantly.

“Hyung, holding hands is not crime. Friends hold hands all the time.”

They find a bench in almost total darkness, only a few stragglers enjoying the peaceful time of the night still lingering around them.

“I won’t do it…If you mind,” Namjoon murmurs, wilting at the thought and goes to withdraw his hand. Jin grabs it before he can do so completely however and sighs.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Joonah,” he says and Namjoon wonders if his cheeks have gone darker or if he is simply seeing things.

They stare at the shimmering river, relaxing in each other’s company.

“Hyung,” Namjoon begins. “I wanted to say that even if…you don’t end up seeing me the way I see you, I won’t just leave.”

“Namjoon, I’d understand if you had to. You have been quite honest so far. And it would be…selfish of me to ask for you to stay,” Jin whispers, his head bowed.

“No, hyung. Look at me.”

When Jin refuses to by simply shaking his head, Namjoon gathers his courage with a deep breath.

“Hyung?” He murmurs, lifting two fingers to Jin’s chin in order to make the other meet his eyes.

Jin’s reluctance is obvious in the way he lets his eyes rise to meet his.

Maybe it’s the moonlight, or the streetlamp a little away from them, or perhaps it’s the river reflecting all light, but Namjoon falters and blinks.

“What is it?”

“Your eyes…” Catching the light just right.

“What about them?” Jin’s eyebrows draw together.

“They are beautiful.”

Jin huffs in surprise, the same eyes widening before he shakes his head and tries to push Namjoon’s hand away.

Namjoon lets him and promptly cups his cheek with his other hand.

Jin freezes and the gulp that comes next is audible enough to make Namjoon chuckle.

“Hyung, you’re not selfish if you want us to be friends despite—well, despite certain things. You mean a lot to me. And I can promise you that…”

Namjoon pauses and takes a good look at the man in front of him, takes in the wide and hopeful eyes. And he wonders if it will be worth it. If he will be capable enough to look past his wants and needs, the sheer yearning that his feelings bring along with them, and still be beside Seokjin.

He thinks about how wronged he had felt on Jin’s behalf when he had heard about the way Junghwan had treated him. He thinks about what Jin means to him, what his happiness means to him.

And then he makes the decision.

He leans in and tries to let the conviction seep into his voice, “Hyung, no matter what, I promise to stay by your side.”

He can see Jin’s shock in the way his lips part, he hears it in his soft gasp of disbelief and smiles for reassurance even as his heart pounds at the mere thought of what he might have to go through.

And he wonders if the light in Jin’s eyes is only his imagination or if it’s actual joy.

Jin has only noticed their proximity, colour flushing under his skin, high on his cheekbones as he tries to hold Namjoon’s gaze.

And Namjoon feels the other’s nervousness in the air, the feel of his soft cheek when he strokes it with his thumb and then—

A barking dog had interrupted their moment.

Just trying to imagine what could have happened has his pulse quickening with anticipation.

Today, he thinks, might just be The Day.

He takes another deep breath to steady himself, this time minus the fragrance and quickly types in the code to Jin’s flat.

He even knew the pass code to it now. He smiles, pleased with his progress and holds the bouquet of flowers behind his back before pushing the door open with a wide grin.

What he sees in front of him stops him in his tracks as the door closes behind him with a click.

There is Jin, sitting on the couch, grinning as he does with his plump lips stretched wide.

And there sits a woman beside him, murmuring something with a smile as he chuckles and throws his head back laughing.

A second passes and they realize that he is standing at the door. And just as quickly, the smile drops from Jin’s face.

“Joonah! You came,” he says as the woman gets to her feet and approaches him.

Jin scrambles to rush to him first, greeting him with a smile that is pure nervousness but Namjoon’s too busy sizing up the new face to notice.

“Namjoonah, this is Kim Jennie.”

How many friends did Jin hyung exactly have?

She’s startlingly pretty, what with her long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders and back and a flawless face with soft features.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Nam Joonsshi. I hope you don’t mind me from interrupting your plans. I just flew in last week and thought I should surprise and catch up with Jinnie here.”

She extends her hand and Namjoon shakes it, noting that she must have had a Western upbringing for not having bowed.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you as well, Jenniesshi. ”

“Oh, please. Call me Jennie. It’s fine. I haven’t lived in the country for long so the honorifics take some getting used to.”

“Well, only if you call me Namjoon, too,” he smiles, suddenly at ease in her company. “How do you know Jin hyung?”

“Jinnie was the most welcoming of all of my colleagues when I first began work in the academy and was a complete newbie to Seoul.”

“Yah, Jennie. Don’t forget your manners,” Jin pouts, crossing his arms.

“Alright, Seokjin oppa,” she rolls her eyes with a chuckle.

There’s an awkward lull in the conversation but then Jennie asks, “What’s that you are holding?”

Namjoon startles and then ducks his head, clearing his throat as he slowly brings the bouquet into view of the other two.

“Oh.” Jin just stares at the flowers as if he has never seen a bouquet before.

Namjoon thinks about hitting Jin over the head with it for not having told him that he had a guest any sooner.

“I brought flowers for you—I mean, for the apartment. To liven it up a little, haha,” he rubs the back of his neck after he hands it over to Jin who accepts it mutely.

Jin is still staring at the flowers as if he were in a trance and Namjoon notices the faintest blush. Maybe Jennie does, too, because she looks a little taken aback at the scene in front of her.

“Uh thank you. They’re very—pretty,” Jin says and turns to Jennie with a jerk. “Aren’t they, Jennie?”

Jennie nods with a smile and her fingers flit over the petals in appreciation.

Namjoon, meanwhile, wishes to melt into the flooring but he cannot so he chooses to make himself at home instead.

Namjoon doesn’t understand why he has the bad luck to always be stuck with a third-wheel whenever he just wants to spend some quality time with Jin but he couldn’t exactly ask Jennie to leave them alone.

Just like he couldn’t let Jin or Jennie to do the dishes after they had finished dinner, letting them relax together after a whole ten minute long debate on why he should be the one doing the dishes. So he was stuck in the kitchen, listening to both of them talk, Jin’s hearty laugh punctuating the conversation along with Jennie’s soft laughter once every few minutes.

He finally finishes wiping the dishes dry and placing them away in the dish rack when he hears the strains of an argument coming from the only bedroom in the flat. He frowns because he had assumed that they were going to wait for him in the living room. He stops right by the kitchen door in hesitance, wondering whether it would be better to interrupt them or let them have it out.

He makes his way through the corridor towards the bedroom door quietly. There’s a lot of back and forth, it sounds more like Jennie is trying to convince him and Jin keeps shooting her down, but Namjoon cannot be sure since they are speaking in hushed voices.

He stops right outside the door with his hand poised to knock.

He picks neither of the two options he had thought of, choosing to eavesdrop when he hears Jin say his name. The door stands ajar and Namjoon steels himself before looking through the gap. Jin’s back is to him as he gestures furiously while talking to the woman.

All of a sudden, Jin raises his voice and Namjoon panics, wanting to put a stop to it, to diffuse the tension and he pushes the door open to announce his presence.

"But I don't feel that way!" Jin protests.

"We'll see about that."

Namjoon blinks and Jennie has her arms around Jin’s shoulders, a hand on the back of his neck and her head tilted at an angle that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Namjoon stands in the same spot as before, paralyzed and rooted to the ground as he watches the scene play out before him.

But Jennie sees him and he can see the embarrassment on her features for having been caught kissing someone by a near stranger.

But not the shame that someone who had just knowingly wrecked a blooming relationship might have shown.

There was no guilt, no apology written anywhere on her features.

Jin hadn’t told her about their decision—their courtship, after all. Maybe he had told nobody at all. Namjoon was a fool for having assumed that he had.

Maybe he was ashamed to let people know that he was dating another man, or ashamed that it was Namjoon. Maybe he was only doing this for him out of pity, pure sympathy.

And maybe he really had wanted to kiss Jennie. After all, he hadn’t pushed Jennie away; he had simply let her kiss him. Namjoon wouldn’t know from where he stood, but maybe he had even kissed her back.

Maybe he had wanted to. And perhaps he had liked it, too.

“Namjoonsshi,” she says, her expression sheepish and anger spikes within him all of a sudden.

He sees tension ripple through Jin’s back, sees him freeze up before slowly moving to face him.

“Joonah…” Jin breathes, his features a frozen mask as he gauges Namjoon’s reaction.

“I—” Namjoon stutters, swallows and then starts again. “I’m sorry. I just thought—”

And he stops at that because he doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

He bites his lip, trying to hold back from saying something wrong—from saying anything because he doesn’t know what might escape his lips.

And what was he going to say anyway?

Did he even have the right to call out Jennie on her act?

Jin raises his hand, as if he is trying to reach out and the careful way he does it bothers Namjoon because it looks like he is trying to pacify a rabid animal.

But nothing’s wrong.

It isn’t as if Namjoon had hoped that Jin might just reciprocate his feelings. It isn’t as if he had gone through sleepless nights just thinking about what it would be like to get to be the one who Jin considered his significant other.

It isn’t as if he had high hopes.

Thinking about it now, perhaps Namjoon would have been better off having no hope at all. He had known all along that it would go wrong.

That it was too good to be true.

Jennie keeps looking from Jin to him, an expression of confusion adorning her pleasant features.

I’m just getting in the way, he thinks.

“No, of course not,” Jennie says with a laugh and that’s when he realizes that he has said the words out loud.

He thinks Jin might have said his name once again but he cannot hear past the ringing in his ears, past the loud thudding of his heart.

And as he turns on his feet to leave before he can embarrass himself any further, he thinks about his promise.

I promise to stay by your side.

And wonders if he would be able to keep it after all.

No matter what.

Chapter Text

“Jin hyung, please come! I know you’re busy but it will be a nice getaway just for a few days. Taehyung would love it if you surprise him!"

“Kookah, hyung will take you on a trip of a lifetime! Come along now.”

“Namjoon hyung, will you come with me?”

“Yoongi, you wanna join Kook and I? It will be fun! It's Daegu, after all!”

“Hoseok hyung, Taehyung’s place in Daegu is lovely! I’ll count you in!”

“Hyung, we are here! This is where we were supposed to meet the car and driver,” Jungkook says and Yoongi asks the cab driver to stop.

In front of Jimin and Hoseok’s apartment? Yoongi wonders suspiciously.

Leaving Namjoon to fumble with his wallet and grabbing his rucksack, he steps out of the taxi with Jungkook, walking towards the only other parked vehicle ahead of them at the curb.

“Why did you get a—” Yoongi stops talking abruptly, only just noticing the two other figures standing on the pavement beside it.

“I don’t get it. Why did you hire an SUV just for the three of us? Where did you even get that kind of money?” Yoongi hears Taehyung ask in a perplexed manner.

“It’s my friend’s. He was only too happy to lend it to us,” Jimin said, skillfully evading the first question.

Yoongi looks into the SUV through the back glass and sure enough, he can see Jin in the driver’s seat.

This is bad, Yoongi thinks as he looks down into Jungkook’s wide eyes which regard the back of Taehyung’s head with increasing trepidation.

This is very, very bad.

Yoongi purses his lips and exhales sharply, letting his eyes fall shut in pained acceptance before raising his head again.

He grabs Jungkook by the wrist before he decides to bolt like a scared terrier and begins to walk towards the duo, ignoring Jungkook’s struggles to break free.

“That’s because it’s not going to be just the three of you,” he says.

“Oh, Yoongi hyung! I didn’t know you w—” Taehyung cuts off abruptly, eyeing a wilting Jungkook with a gaping mouth.

Jungkook tries to hide behind Yoongi but it’s a little too late for that. When his attempts turn fruitless, Jungkook goes limp beside Yoongi, bowing his head as if to make himself smaller.

Judging by the lack of shock on Jimin’s face and the presence of relief instead, this had all been Jimin’s doing.

Which also meant that…

He has to admit. Jimin had been clever. Quite clever.

“Jungkookah, I—you—I mean—” Taehyung starts but his stammers are left unheard when Namjoon—painfully oblivious as always—joyfully shouts, "Shotgun" before bounding to the passenger seat.

Yoongi drags a hand over his face and heads to the passenger side of the car after his roommate.

Namjoon is already seated halfway when he notices a wide-eyed Jin clutching onto the steering wheel, staring straight into his eyes.

Oh of all the people on the planet!

“You—you’re the driver?” He whispers. To which Jin nods mutely.

He swears under his breath and is about to step out of the car when he is shoved back the way he came rather unceremoniously.

"No you don't," Yoongi mutters darkly before slamming the door in his face.

Namjoon gulps and steadies himself by gripping the sides of the seat. He hears Yoongi's call to get a move on and looks at Jin's feet on the pedals apprehensively. Since those were the only body parts he could look at without having a meltdown.

For him, it was going to be a few days of peace without the other man before he had to see him again. He hadn’t expected to be stranded in Daegu with Jin. 

He presses back into his seat when Jin leans towards him all of a sudden, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible and asks, "What are you doing?" It comes out all hoarse and he is sure he looks as frazzled as he feels, with Jin's face this close.

The man leans in even closer without a word and then—as his heart thuds once desperately—he reaches for the seatbelt?

Of course he reaches for the seatbelt.

It's unnerving, to not be able to tear his eyes away from Jin's as he buckles him in without looking away even once.

The moment Jin has leaned back, the moment his presence leaves Namjoon's space, he sags like a rag doll against his seat, failing at attempts to regulate his breathing.

Outside the SUV, after managing to push Namjoon back into the car, Yoongi had walked around it, gesturing Jimin to get on with ushering the other two who still stood stock-still into the SUV.

Jimin had entered after the other two settled in the back, forced to sit in the middle rather stiffly as Taehyung looked forlornly at Jungkook and the latter resolutely looked out the window.

Yoongi sighs when he enters the car after Jimin, making himself comfortable in one of the two seats in the middle of the seven-seater, bracing himself for the arrival of their last passenger.

And as if on cue, Hoseok opens the door to the car, the grin falling right off his face at the sight of his co-passenger.

The tension within the car ratchets high up instantly. Yoongi feels everyone still and wait for a reaction, confrontation, anything but no words come out of his mouth.

Hoseok’s face shutters close of all expression as he hoists himself inside, dropping his bag at his feet. Yoongi feels the car rev to life while watching Hoseok strap himself in.

He sees the other man pull out his earphones, knowing that he is ready to drown out Yoongi's very existence and he reaches out before he can stop himself.

"Seokah," Yoongi pleads in a whisper.

He watches Hoseok swallow and waits for him to look up. Yoongi tries to hold his gaze, to not let the memory of the other’s lips against his colour his cheeks.

Hoseok hangs his head for a long moment but doesn’t dislodge Yoongi’s hand on top of his own.

And then, he gently picks up an earbud and asks, "Music?"

Yoongi huffs with relief, hoping that his eyes are thankful enough as he plucks the offering from Hoseok’s fingers and puts it into his ear.

“Would love to,” he says.

He has managed to establish a temporary truce between the two of them but there was still awkwardness in the air (he blamed Namjoon for it) and tension, too, (definitely Jungkook).

He steels himself mentally and settles in as the first song in Hoseok’s playlist flowed into his ear.

It was going to be a long ride.

"Hyung, please come! I know you’re  busy but it will be a nice getaway just for a few days. Taehyung would love it if you surprise him!"

Jimin had blinked up at Jin, knowing that the man's one weakness was Taehyung. And thus, he had set things in motion.

"Kookah, hyung will take you on a trip of a lifetime! Come along now.”

Jin had invited Jungkook, conveniently leaving out their other two travelers, hoping the children would sort it all out.

“Namjoon hyung, will you come with me?”

Jungkook had brought Namjoon into the picture, hoping for the exact same outcome as his unsuspecting Jin hyung had hoped for.

“Yoongi, you wanna join Kook and I? It will be fun! It's Daegu, after all!”

And Namjoon, poor, poor, oblivious Namjoon had simply invited Yoongi out of the goodness of his heart. Sometimes he really loved his roommate.

“Hoseok hyung, Taehyung’s place in Daegu is lovely! I’ll count you in!”

And Jimin, clever, conniving, shrewd little Jiminnie, the mastermind of this whole operation had known all along that it would end up being a chain reaction so he had conveniently borrowed a friend’s SUV, failing to mention the specifics of their company to both Hoseok and Taehyung.

And here they were, all seven of them standing in the courtyard of Taehyung’s house, a traditional hanok, after three whole hours of sheer awkwardness and stifling tension.

Of course, Jimin seems to have planned it all very well because he is picking up people’s bags that litter the floor, handing them over to Taehyung with meaningful looks as he did.

“It’s time that Tae showed us to our respective rooms, isn’t it, Taehyung?”

Taehyung, on his part, bless his soul, nods along and carries the first pair of bags into a room right across from them.

“Hyung, can’t I stay with you instead?” Namjoon pleads in a rather loud whisper, immediately latching onto Yoongi’s arm.

“Nope,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Namjoon, do you not want me as a roommate?” Jin asks, his eyebrows drawn together. If Yoongi weren’t so observant, he could have missed the quick flash of hurt that had skittered through Jin’s eyes at Namjoon’s request.

Namjoon’s hands slip off Yoongi’s arm and he looks apologetic almost instantly.

“Of course not, hyung. I—I would love to. Let’s unpack!” He enthuses.

Namjoon almost falls flat on his face in his attempt to run after Taehyung. Jin sighs and follows after him with more grace.

The rest wait in further awkward silence until Taehyung comes out of their room and slides the door shut before walking across the platform and down the three steps that led to their room.

“Hyung, if you could come this way,” Taehyung gestures at Hoseok to follow him into another room that frames the courtyard.

Yoongi immediately picks up his bag and walks after them with determination.

After a couple of minutes, Taehyung walks out of Hoseok and Yoongi’s room to meet Jimin and Jungkook standing awkwardly in the very center of the courtyard, both of them looking off in opposite directions.

“I uh—”

Two pairs of eyes snap to him at once and he stutters over his words at the sudden attention.

“I didn’t know that…all of us would be coming, so we will have to take the only other bedroom left in the house. It was my grandmother’s…”

Jimin and Jungkook share an alarmed glance at that. The boy had loved his grandmother dearly.

“I can sleep inside the main house,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes downcast.

Taehyung feels his heart thud dully in his chest at the reservation in the other boy’s demeanour.

“No, you don’t have to! You two can—”

Knowing full well that just the addition of another mattress would suffice, Jimin interrupts Taehyung before he could finish his sentence.

“No! I will. You two go. It’s your house Taehyung, you shouldn’t have to sleep anywhere else.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin in surprise as Jimin mouths encouragement at him.

“Do you mind, Jungkook?” Jimin asks pointedly and Jungkook startles at being addressed by the boy directly after all the silence.

His head twitches once in dissent and Taehyung feels relief flood his veins, smiling sheepishly at the other boy before leading the way to the only other room in the small house.

This was going to be his chance to mend their friendship once and for all.

And he was going to try his best.

Yoongi patiently waits for their host to finish telling them about wardrobe space and their rolled-up bed. When Taehyung finally leaves, Yoongi turns to Hoseok to say something to break the ice but Hoseok is busy rolling out the mattress.

Yoongi watches mutely as Hoseok plops a pillow onto the center of the mattress, and lays down, throwing his arm over his eyes.

Perhaps he needed to give the other a bit more time before he could try to mend fences.

Yoongi walks out of their room and enters the main area of the household to find Jimin sprawled on the floor of the minimalistic living room, head resting on folded arms.

“You gave up your spot for them,” he observes, and Jimin nods.

“Someone had to. I couldn’t take the silence anymore. Nor did I want to third wheel,” Jimin chuckles to himself.

“Thank you.”

“Hyung—what for?” Jimin sits up, shock etched on his face.

“Hoseok…he wouldn’t talk to me. Thank you for…” Yoongi gestures vaguely and widely at the room. “For orchestrating all of this. Also, Namjoon had really begun to get on my nerves of late.”

Jimin giggles at those words and Yoongi joins in, sitting down beside the boy.

“Hoseok hyung still isn’t talking?”

“I think leaving him alone for a bit would be best…after what happened.”

A beat of silence passes where both of them think back to the moment he is referring to.

“Hyung, can I ask something of you?”

“Depends on what you are asking for,” Yoongi mutters and Jimin laughs softly, reaching out to take Yoongi’s hand in his.

Yoongi stills, sensing the seriousness in that gesture, and asks him to continue with a nod of his head.

“Will you be honest with hyung?”

Yoongi blinks at the straightforward request.

“You might think this is something you would do anyway but that’s not the same as what you are doing right now, hyung,” Jimin smiles, and Yoongi swallows hard because he can tell that it isn’t a happy smile at all.

“You are keeping things from him. You know what those things are. Hoseokie hyung is someone who deserves complete honesty. Especially from his best friend.”

“I thought you were his best friend,” Yoongi frowns.

“Who says he can’t have two?” Jimin asks.

“Good point.”

“But that’s not my point at all. Hyung, I think it would do you two some good to tell each other exactly how you feel.”

“Jiminah, you know it could go horribly wrong.”

“But for Hoseok hyung, it did! He was honest with you in his actions and you rejected him—”

“I didn’t—” Yoongi winces.

“But you did. You rejected him and now he has withdrawn because he tried to ask for more than what you two had and was refused.”

Yoongi slumps in place, wondering just how long Jimin had been waiting to talk to him about this. His words sounded well-rehearsed, as if he had accounted for every possible argument Yoongi could have possibly spouted.

“Hyung, you can hardly hold it against him. He’s hurt,” Jimin adds softly and something in Yoongi’s chest clenches at the statement.

He’s hurt. You hurt him.

“Enough,” Yoongi murmurs, gently withdrawing his hand from Jimin’s grip. He is saved from the trouble of excusing himself when Taehyung comes bounding into the room with a spare mattress and pillow.

Right before he is about to escape into the outside, however, Jimin pleads one last time.

“Do it for your friendship, hyung.”

“Does he still not want to confess to Hoseok hyung?” Taehyung asks as he makes Jimin’s bed for him.

“Yup. We are gonna have to work on that. Thanks for the mattress!” Jimin grins as Taehyung fluffs his pillow before placing it on the bed.

“Thank Seokjin hyung,” Taehyung winks. “They are in my parents’ bedroom so there were two mattresses there. He let me steal this one when Namjoon hyung wasn’t looking.”

Jimin’s eyes go round at once. “Does this mean we won’t have to deal with them as well?”

“Nope. I think Jin hyung has it all figured out already. He just doesn’t want Namjoon hyung to find a reason to sneak out of the room with his own bed.”

“I see…” Jimin murmurs, staring off into space with vague plans already formulating in his mind.

The very next moment, Taehyung grabs his face and kisses him right on the lips.

“Yah! What was that for?!” Jimin slaps a hand to his mouth, turning pink almost promptly.

“For letting me room with Jungkookie,” Taehyung giggles.

Jimin sighs and lets his hand drop into his lap. “You are welcome, Taehyungah. I know how much he means to you. Besides, I wasn’t going to third wheel you two.”

Jimin doesn’t see it coming the second time.

“Yah!” He exclaims again as Taehyung gives him yet another peck.

“That one was for inviting Jungkookie.”

“You should thank Jin hyung for that. All I did was invite him along. He did the rest.”

Taehyung’s eyes suddenly have a faraway look to them, his lips slowly stretching into a grin.

Jimin smacks him on his head at once.

“Ow! What was that for?” Taehyung frowns with both arms shielding his head.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jimin says with a raise of his index finger. “Jin hyung is off-limits. Namjoon hyung will bulldoze you if you give that man a thank you kiss.”

Taehyung lips fall into a moue but Jimin tries to distract him before he can get petulant about being barred from going about kissing people in a show of gratitude.

“I thought you had a plan of action?” He raises an eyebrow pointedly.

Jungkook is sitting by himself in the room that once used to belong to Taehyung’s grandmother, eyeing the single-person mattress nervously when the door slides open to show both Jimin and Taehyung’s excited faces.

“Kookah, do you want to help us?” Jimin asks.

“More specifically,” Taehyung says as he flops down in front of him and takes Jungkook’s hand in his. “Do you want to help Yoongi and Hoseok hyungdeul?”

Jungkook gulps and nods, trying to focus on Taehyung’s words rather than his touch.

Taehyung’s eyes glint mischievously at his affirmation.

“Then we are going to have a lot to do.”

“Jin hyung!” Taehyung slides open the door to his parents' bedroom and walks in to find Jin and Namjoon sitting across from each other, probably in the middle of a conversation.

But, Jin promptly jumps to his feet and walks over to Taehyung. Namjoon seems to have frozen in his spot, cross-legged and waiting.

“Yes, Taehyungah?” He asks, almost eager at the interruption.

“Um, can we go grocery shopping?” Taehyung asks, watching Namjoon sag (with relief?) behind Jin. “We need to make dinner and my parents cleaned out the fridge before they left for their trip.”

“Oh, absolutely! Fantastic. Let me get my things and we shall leave right away.”

Taehyung looks at Namjoon curiously when he turns around to face him, positively delighted at the prospect of grocery shopping.

“I’ll take a quick nap while you are gone,” he beams and Taehyung’s eyes narrow.

Positively delighted at the prospect of getting rid of Jin?

Clearly, more interference was required.

“Hyung, you will have to come help us. It has got to be enough for all seven of us. We’ll definitely need another helping hand, won’t we, Jin hyung?”

“Uhh—can’t we take Jimin?”

“Nope. He is busy trying to salvage some of the leftover side dishes.”

“How about Jungkook?” He asks with renewed hope.

“Cleaning the kitchen and setting up the dinner table.”

“Hoseok?” Jin narrows his eyes, now determined in his quest to get rid of Namjoon.

“Napping,” Taehyung scrutinizes his fingernails, oozing nonchalance.

“Yoongi?” Jin smirks, knowing that he had won.

He thinks he hears Yoongi’s familiar drawl for a second there. He is probably conversing with Jimin and Junkook standing guard in the courtyard that very minute.

Taehyung blinks. “YOONGI HYUNG? Yoongi hyung?!” He speaks emphatically, knocking over Namjoon with his sudden rise in volume while Jin merely startles.

“How could you ask such a thing of Yoongi hyung?! When you know he detests chores! How could you?” He continues in the same loud voice.

And almost instantly, he hears sounds of struggle, a loud thump, and then—nothing.

“Besides he is AWOL,” he shrugs.

Taehyung flashes the two his most charismatic smile.

“Shall we?”

“Yah! Why did you two drag me here?”

“Hyung, shush! It is Taehyung’s late grandmother’s room. Pay your respects,” Jimin hurriedly quiets him before the party of three currently leaving the premises can hear them.

“To a room,” Yoongi deadpans.

Jimin gulps. And then turns on his aegyo just a bit.

“Hyuuung.”

In his peripheral vision, Jungkook’s head snaps to him with bulging eyes.

Yoongi’s bitch face, however, remains unfazed despite the cooing and the pout.

“I’m going to go now,” he states.

And walks right out the door.

Jungkook and Jimin share an alarmed glance before rushing to the door and sliding it open once again, looking left and right to see if the coast is clear.

Jimin sighs and leans against the frail door in relief, rubbing the shin he had hurt when he had tripped on the steps while dragging Yoongi to the room.

“Two down, two to go.”

Sometimes he really did not know what was wrong with the maknae line. It had been far too bright outside and he had ended his walk early. They had intercepted him when he had only been on his way back to the room and had tried to manhandle him to another room instead. He blamed Taehyung for influencing the kids.

Yoongi shrugs off their weirdness before opening the door to his designated room.

He is surprised to find Hoseok curled up with a book but the moment Yoongi enters, he startles, slams it shut, and gets to his feet.

Yoongi feels a sudden bitterness in his mouth.

"You want to get away from me that bad, huh?”

The words are out before he can stop them. He curses himself mentally the moment they have escaped his lips because he had decided that Hoseok was not to be blamed. As Jimin had said, Hoseok was just trying to deal with the hurt.

And sure enough, he can see the flash of hurt in Hoseok’s eyes before he hides it. Yoongi feels like a right little shit.

"You're the one to talk,” Hoseok says without any malice and Yoongi feels like an even bigger douchebag.

He parts his lips, sighs, and then tries again.

"I have missed you, Hoseok. I wish you'd stop whatever it is that you're doing."

"I have missed you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok’s heart hammers at the softness of Yoongi’s words, at what he means.

“I wish you'd stop whatever it is that you're doing."

“I’m not doing anything,” the retort is almost a reflex in the way it comes out and Hoseok could laugh but he is too focused on the pain at the moment.

He knew what Yoongi meant. He had missed the other boy, too. It had been far too long since he had last heard his gravelly voice, since he had last seen Yoongi’s face until he had opened the door to the car. It had been far too long.

“Seokah, can’t we—?” Yoongi begins, taking two strides towards him, two strides across the room, just long enough for them to be standing face-to-face.

Hoseok looks at him sharply.

“Can’t we be friends again?” Yoongi mumbles in nothing more than a whisper.

Something twinges within Hoseok’s chest at how pained it sounds.

But he is too busy trying to suppress the sudden wave of hurt that sweeps over him.

I knew it. He never wanted to be with me like that after all.

“How is that so easy for you to say?” He asks despite himself.

“I just want you back, Hoseok,” he coaxes.

“So you say after trying to push me away. Forgive me, hyung…but I can’t. Namjoon is a saint. But I can't be friends with you. It’s not the same anymore. Not if I—not if I have feelings for you."

“Seokah, I want to go back to—to how it was—”

How dare you say that to me

“Please.”

“Don’t call me that.”

How could you say that to me…

Hoseok was no fool. He was not blind. He hadn’t failed to notice the way Yoongi had looked at him in moments when he thought Hoseok wasn’t looking. He hadn’t forgotten the flirting in the early days, the moments they had shared, those looks of longing and sometimes of mutual desire.

He hadn’t missed the way Yoongi had always prolonged his touch, fingers trailing down his skin, stilling for longer than they should have, lingering for longer than what was merely friendly.

And despite all of that, when Hoseok had trusted his own gut feelings, when he had trusted Yoongi, and even after the other boy had given in to his wishes, Yoongi had stopped it from going any further. He had winced when Jimin had entered.

As if he had been embarrassed.

Embarrassed of having been caught with Hoseok.

Embarrassed of Hoseok.

“Hyung—” Hoseok winces at the way his voice breaks over the single syllable. “Please let me go. Leave me be.”

His fingers are weak; they are shaking as they try to pry off Yoongi’s fingers that have found their way around his arm.

He shakes his head and tries to speak. “I can’t—”

He freezes when that sounds like more of a sob than a statement, his hand dropping all attempts to free himself from Yoongi’s grasp as it flies to his mouth to stifle all sound.

He feels Yoongi’s fingers squeeze his arms, dig into his skin with gentle pressure as ever, and feels him trying to pull him in for a hug.

Too weak to reject him, too weak to refuse, Hoseok falls into the hug limply, turning his head to rest it in the crook of Yoongi’s shoulder.

If he had believed he could handle it, he had been sorely wrong.

The very warmth of Yoongi, his proximity itself slices through him like a sharpened knife.

“Hyung, please.” He tries not to whimper. He fails. And feels Yoongi seize up around him.

And now he had done it after all.

Yoongi’s palms trail down from his back only for him to step back and detach altogether.

Hoseok stays in place, head bowed and eyes shut.

He had made Yoongi leave, too.

And he stands like that. Until he hears the sound of Yoongi’s footsteps fade away into the distance.

Chapter Text

After returning from the grocery shopping, their shoulders carrying a heavier burden of awkwardness than before, Jin and Namjoon had assisted the maknae line in cooking. Taehyung had suggested Namjoon help with the chopping with a wink thrown in Jungkook’s direction which had made the younger boy drop the ladle in his hand with a loud splash into the stew he had been stirring. Jin—more often than not—would end up holding onto Namjoon’s hand over a knife to demonstrate the most harmless way to cut an assortment of vegetables (which had been the exact outcome Taehyung had so desired). Not that Jin knew what kind of an effect he had on Namjoon, of course.

That had been the most painful to watch, in Jimin’s opinion.

Namjoon would freeze up at Jin’s mere breathing in close proximity, let alone at the slightest touch and he would end up making a mistake.

After having to sit through Jin blowing on Namjoon’s fingers as the man steadily turned a deep scarlet for the third time, Jimin had exclaimed loudly that perhaps Jin should take over the stove area and that he would carry out any slicing or dicing that would be required.

Namjoon had looked like he could have kissed Jimin at that.

Yoongi had been sulking off in various corners of the house and showing up once in a while on Jimin’s insistence to stuff his mouth full of some or the other raw ingredient.

Jimin had rightly assumed that things with Hoseok hadn’t gone very well.

When Hoseok had arrived with bloodshot and puffy eyes at the dinner, Jimin had taken him aside to offer him cold water with a napkin. Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to do. Hoseok had taken another fifteen minutes and turned up with his eyes looking even worse.

Dinner that night, to be completely honest, turns out to be a sad affair. The awkwardness seems to have vaporized. But now, nobody wants to be in each other’s company (except the maknae line who have been the only ones successful at making amends without any grudge-holding whatsoever) and it’s rather obvious going by their behaviour.

It’s a right miracle that Hoseok can aim his chopsticks right through eyes twice their usual size, Yoongi tries to make himself small in his seat, Namjoon seems to be trying to attract the least attention to himself (a rather impossible feat considering how he knocks things over every other minute) and Jin has a constant frown on his face.

When Jimin had envisioned them all having dinner together, he had expected it to be a night of merry-making. Not—this.

This won’t do, he thinks, watching the pitiful soiree. This can’t wait. We will have to move in tonight.

He relays the message to the other two right after dinner and they all scatter to trigger the sequence of plans they have schemed up.

Jimin assigns Hoseok and Yoongi to the task of dishes with Jungkook thrown in their midst to act as a buffer.

He mobilizes Taehyung to work on making sure their eldest hyungs were relaxed and ready for a good night’s sleep.

“But what about the pile of dishes? Shouldn’t we help?” Jin asks.

“Hyung, hyung,” Taehyung shakes his head, patting Jin’s arm “Yoongi and Hoseok hyung have got it all under control. They have asked you two to go to bed immediately since you two helped me with the grocery shopping and the cooking.

“You have done your bit, now you should rest. Don’t you agree, Namjoon hyung?” Taehyung questions the quiet one sweetly.

Namjoon only nods weakly in response.

“He is right. We should—ahem—rest.”

He doesn’t seem very happy at the prospect of being left alone with Jin hyung to rest. Taehyung thinks it is the single mattress that has him all squirmy. He flashes them a wide grin.

“Goodnight, you two! See you tomorrow morning!”

He slides the door closed in Jin’s face.

And then Jimin waits.

Once he gets the green signal from Taehyung, he prods Jungkook to do his bit, making sure to keep Hoseok busy.

“Yoongi hyung, can I talk to you for a bit?” Jungkook approaches the elder one who has just finished wiping the dishes.

Yoongi, glad to have been rid of Hoseok and his associated guilt thanks to Jimin guiding him out of the kitchen by his arm, is only too glad to speak to someone who wasn’t Hoseok.

Jungkook seems to be struggling for words and Yoongi gives him time to do so.

“Hyung, I am going to confess.”

It is a sign of how very tired he was after the day’s events that he assumes he is the recipient of said confession before he remembers the one Jungkook actually had a crush on.

“Okay…”

“Will you take us out on a drive and drop us off somewhere so that I can—you know?” The child blushes.

“Can’t Jin hyung do that?”

“He is asleep.”

Yoongi sighs. “And I wouldn’t trust Namjoon with an SUV.”

Jungkook nods with those wide, naïve eyes of his.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” Jungkook beams. “But what’s in it for me?”

And for the first time in all of the time Yoongi has known Jungkook, he sees the boy’s eyes glint knowingly and with intent.

“I can make Hoseok hyung join us.”

Of course, at that very moment, unbeknownst to Yoongi, Jimin is busy convincing Hoseok hyung to get out of the house for “fresh air”.

“It’s a full moon night, hyung. It will be beautiful. And the darkness could help your eyes relax.”

Hoseok only agrees to it, knowing he needs to get out and get away from Yoongi for however little time he can before bed.

When they are near the SUV and Hoseok tries to reach for the driver’s side, however, Jimin says, “Hyung, should you really be driving in your state?”

Hoseok takes inventory of his body and realizes that perhaps he shouldn’t. His head hurts and his eyes burn and he feels shaky from all the crying just a little while ago.

“Alright.”

“Why don’t you go around to the passenger side?” Jimin asks, unlocking the car with the press of a button on the key.

Hoseok does as he is told, closing the door after him and sighing as he rested against the cool seat with his eyes closed.

He hears the door in the back open at the same time as the driver’s seat and wonders if the other boys will be joining them, too. The doors shut softly, and sounds of seatbelts being pulled fill the car.

He feels the warmth of someone reach over him and pull on the seatbelt and the telltale click of it being secured. Gentle fingers brush strands of hair back from where they tickle his eyelids and he opens his eyes to say

“Thanks, Jiminah,” with a smile.

Yoongi stills in front of him, hand still raised near his forehead and fingers stretched out before he curls them into his palm and moves back into his seat.

“You’re welcome,” he says gruffly before turning on the ignition.

Hoseok sighs as the car pulls out, squeezing his eyes shut.

It was going to be yet another long ride.

After about half an hour of aimlessly driving down a straight dirt road flanked by cropped fields, Yoongi finally pulls the car to a stop near a well-lit clearing with trails radiating off the roughly circular area.

“We can walk around here. Shall we come back to this spot in say 20?”

Hoseok promptly begins to walk off in one direction whereas Jimin walks up to Yoongi with his arm outstretched, palm open.

“I can take care of the keys.”

“Will you take care of them, too?” Yoongi asks as he drops the keys into his palm.

“Yes, hyung. Now go after Hoseok hyung. Isn’t that why you agreed to come here in the first place?” Jimin smiles.

Yoongi blinks and wonders exactly how much of Jimin’s innocence and naivety was made up and how much was real.

He nods and Jimin grins before hurrying after the other two and into the dark.

Yoongi sighs and stands in his place, torn about the situation.

On one hand, he was worried that the kids might get lost in the dark. Being their hyung, he should definitely follow them.

But just like Jungkook, he had come here with a game plan in mind.

He turns on his heels and begins to walk down the trail where he had seen Hoseok disappear off to, trusting Jimin to be responsible enough for the youngest two.

He thought about that afternoon, about how Hoseok had reacted to his comfort. And he feels a stab of pain.

In the entire time that they had been friends with each other, not once had Yoongi thought that—an asshole though he was—he would ever be the cause behind Hoseok’s tears. If nothing else, he needs to fix it. He must apologize. He didn’t think he could do without Hoseok as his best friend. He shall give the other boy time, as much as he wants, before he can take him back.

The other option…of being something more than what they used to be doesn’t quite occur to him. He couldn’t take advantage of Hoseok’s weakness that was his last break-up. There’s another reason as to why he can’t take their relationship one step further but he doesn’t get time to dwell on it as he spots Hoseok in the distance and runs to catch up with him.

“Seokah!” He calls out. The boy doesn’t seem to have heard him. “Damn it.”

He swears under his breath before going faster.

“Hoseok!” He reaches out and grabs the boy’s shoulder.

Wrong move.

Hoseok shrieks and jumps mile high, almost elbowing Yoongi in the face but managing to shove the boy to the ground anyway with a sharp strike to his chest. It's a good thing that he had gotten hit unintentionally by one of Hoseok's flailing limbs. What a pain it would have been had his closest friend smacked him with the intent to hurt.

“Jeez. Hoseok, it’s just me!” Yoongi groans from where he is sprawled on the ground. He sits up slowly, wincing at the ache in his butt.

“Hyung, what are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, pulling out his earphones to let them dangle around his neck and helping Yoongi to his feet.

“I wanted to leave the kids alone. I thought I could come with you,” Yoongi says, brushing soil off his pants.

“Why?” Hoseok frowns, suspiciously.

“Jungkook asked me to drive them here so he could make progress with Taehyung.”

Hoseok's face clears. “Ah. Finally!”

There are a few moments of silence when they both just look at each other. Crickets chirp. Yoongi’s chest still smarts. And then—

“Don’t follow me.”

“Ho—”

“I came here to get away from you, hyung. I don’t need you breathing down my neck here as well.”

Yoongi sputters at his friend’s brutal honesty and grabs his arm.

“Will you just listen to me?”

“There is nothing to listen to,” Hoseok mutters, wrenching his arm out of Yoongi’s grip.

“I want to apologize.”

Hoseok looks at him in surprise and then crosses his arms.

“Go on, then.”

Yoongi parts his lips, ready to launch into a heartfelt apology, roughly shoving his pride into a drawer and locking it up within his mind when a noise that sounds far too familiar interrupts him.

Their eyes widen as it gets louder and then the distinct sounds of it moving farther away reaches them.

“THE CAR!” They shout in unison.

Hoseok bolts back the way they had come before Yoongi can even react and he runs after the other man as fast as his legs would allow him.

By the time they get to the clearing, the car’s tail lights are specks and Jungkook and Taehyung have already given up chasing after their ride a little ahead of them.

“Jimin,” Yoongi growls. He tries to catch his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees as he pants. It's honestly embarrassing. Hoseok doesn't even sound breathless beside him. When he is done regulating his breathing, they approach the other two.

"I didn't know he could drive! Did you?" Hoseok asks.

“I had no clue,” Yoongi mutters, running a hand through his hair.

“Why would he do that?” Hoseok wonders, thoroughly bewildered.

“Maybe,” Taehyung begins, “This is him giving us privacy!”

“My Jiminnie knows best,” he beams.

Hoseok drags a hand over his face and Yoongi doesn't fail to notice Jungkook's furious blushing to the side. He snorts and says, “Well, we’d better start walking back. It’ll take us about an hour to reach your place on foot.”

“Follow my lead!” Taehyung says, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and sprinting down the moonlit road.

Hoseok makes to run after Taehyung but stops when Yoongi’s hand curls around his.

“Let them gain some distance on us,” he says, slowly releasing the other’s hand.

Hoseok frowns, parting his lips to question why they should let the younger ones walk in near total darkness by themselves.

Yoongi simply raises his eyebrows. “Don’t worry; we can keep an eye on them from here. We’ll just go slower.”

Sure enough, Taehyung and Jungkook slow down when they are farther down the road. Taehyung keeps their hands linked as they walk and Hoseok chuckles.

“They’ll be good for each other.”

Yoongi hums in agreement.

The silence between them grows thicker, and Yoongi can feel the tension coming off of Hoseok in waves already.

He sees Hoseok reach for the earphones he had slung around his neck and blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“My parents are homophobic.”

Hoseok stops in his tracks to look at him, earphones slipping through his fingers to sway and gently knock against his chest.

Then he realizes what that must sound like to Hoseok: an excuse as to why he can’t be with the other man and hurries to add to it.

“That is why…I looked mad during the play. The storyline hit home,” he tries for a smile and fails, continuing to walk.

He feels Hoseok hesitate behind him for a moment.

“I’d finally mustered up the guts to bring a boy home,” he resumes. “And they reacted…poorly. The bike was a gift to gloss things over. They never talked about it again—never apologized for driving me away from my own home.

“They still pay for my living and tuition expenses, but they’d rather not call me their son anymore. It hasn’t been the same ever since.”

Only the sounds of their footsteps against the natural earth permeate the air apart from the crickets and occasional laughter carrying over the wind from the boys that walk ahead of them.

He had never told this to anybody. Not even Namjoon. Yoongi feels lighter somehow. 

He is surprised when Hoseok holds his hand and gives it a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Yoongi savours the warmth of his palm against his after days of cold and grey. He nods.

“What happened to him?”

Yoongi stifles a smile at the question. Trust Hoseok to be curious regarding all the wrong things.

He simply shakes his head and Hoseok nods slowly.

Another squeeze.

“My ex called me an experiment to pass the time in her last year. Said I wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.”

This time, it is Yoongi’s turn to stop and return the squeeze to his friend’s hand.

“It’s not like I would have taken her back when she called to see me that day.”

“She wanted you back?” He asks, knowing he shouldn’t be prying. Not when Hoseok was volunteering the information. But Hoseok simply nods in affirmation.

Yoongi thinks back to that night, when he had held Hoseok in his arms and seen him hurt so much.

“She would call me clingy, loud, obnoxious—an embarrassment to her in front of her friends. Throughout the relationship, I had felt like some plaything she called on whenever she wanted,” Hoseok chuckles darkly.

“But when she said she wanted to try again, that she needed a do-over, all I could think about was how you wouldn’t have treated me that way in the first place.”

Yoongi comes to a halt at his words.

“I hadn’t been agonizing over her that night in my room before you came, hyung. I was scared of how I much I wanted you."

“Kookah, I’m sorry.”

Taehyung will soon be showering Jimin with kisses for leaving them stranded like this because him and Jungkook have been having great conversation so far, just like in the old days. He had also cracked a few jokes here and there and had been blessed with the boy's beautiful laugh. And he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why his friend had spent all that time avoiding him on purpose.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to apologize for whatever wrong he may have done.

“Hyung,” Jungkook utters. “Why are you saying that?”

Taehyung pulls Jungkook to a stop, noting with surprise how their friends had stopped up the road, too.

“Jungkookah, I don’t know what I did wrong, but please accept my apology. I can’t not be talking to you! Will you please be my friend again?”

Jungkook gulps and nods, “It wasn’t your fault…”

“Then what is it, Kookah? Why didn’t you talk to me or Jiminnie all this time?”

“Hyung, will you promise me something?”

The elder of the two huffs and separates their joined hands. Then he curls the pinky finger of his right hand around that of Jungkook's left.

“Anything!”

Jungkook smiles at his hyung’s eagerness to clear the air.

“Do you promise to be my friend even after you hear what I’m about to tell you?”

Taehyung presses his thumb against Jungkook’s promptly and murmurs, “I promise.”

It was such a simple promise to uphold after all. Jungkook seems to have been mustering up his courage and then he says—

“I like you.”

Oh.

“That’s it?! I like you, too, silly,” Taehyung shrugs, laughing at how straightforward a reason that was. "But why would you avoid us because of that?"

“No—no, hyung. I mean—I like you. As more than a friend.”

Taehyung sobers up at those words and drops Jungkook’s hand only to take one step closer to the boy, one step right into the bubble of his personal space. He needs to be clearer.

He looks right into his eyes. He cants his head to the side, lowers his voice and asks, “How else do you think I meant it?”

“So…” Namjoon begins as they lay in the dark, side-by-side, far too aware of each other to just fall asleep. “How is…Jennie?”

Jin grimaces. This was Namjoon’s fifth attempt at excruciatingly awkward conversation and the worst by far. “She’s alright.”

“Is she—are you—does she—together? With you? I mean—”

“Namjoon stop.”

“I was just trying to—”

Jin sits up abruptly, throwing the blanket off both their bodies. “Trying to what? Make conversation?”

“Hyung—why are you getting mad at me?” Namjoon sits up as well. “Is it because I brought up Jennie?”

Jin groans and gets to his feet. “No. It’s not that, Joonah. It’s not that at all. It’s everything you have been doing ever since Jennie. Why can’t you just admit that you were hurt? Why can’t you accept the fact that it’s painful for you to be around me now? Why do you have to be some sort of martyr? Why must you brave through it?!”

“Will it help if I tell you that it hurt?” Namjoon asks, hunching over to protect himself from Jin’s sudden tirade. He had just tried his best to continue being Jin’s friend, had tried to not have a repeat of Junghwan. Was that really the wrong thing to do?

“No,” Jin shook his head fiercely. “No. Not at all.”

"Hyung, I promised."

"What good is that promise if it's putting both of us through something like this, Namjoon?! Because I can see what it's doing to you and I wish YOU WOULD JUST STOP!"

Jin stands in front of him, his chest heaving.

They wait for the echoes of the shout to fade out into the otherwise silent night, staring at each other.

His ears are still ringing.

Namjoon wonders if he looks just as stricken as he feels because Jin suddenly looks horrified at what he had just done.

Namjoon gets to his feet rather weakly, praying that his shaky legs wouldn’t give out. Then he takes a few steps backwards, away from Jin, for good measure.

"I—I see. Well...If it's your choice, that changes things. I wish you'd told me this sooner. But I'll get out of your hair the first thing in the morning.”

"Joonah…"

“Hyung, I am sorry if I forced this…obnoxiousness on you. I just didn’t want you to think that you meant any lesser to me just because you couldn’t reciprocate my feelings. I didn’t want you to go through that again—when Junghwan—well, when he left you.”

Jin’s gaze looked a little vacant, a little shocked.

“And of course, I couldn’t bear the thought of not getting to see you again either,” he shrugs with a humourless huff.

"But I do not want you to think—for even one second—that any of this is your fault. That it is your responsibility to have feelings for me or some such bizarre idea."

"Namjoon, what are you—"

"Hyung, before I loved you as a man, I have loved you as a person, as my closest friend. And that is not going to change no matter what.”

"You...you what?" Jin breathes.

When the realization of what he just said hits him, Namjoon chokes on thin air. “Uh—about that—"

"You—you love me?"

"Hyung—"

"Just answer the question, Joon."

Namjoon swallows at the firmness in Jin’s voice.

Could it possibly hurt more than this? Could it get worse than this?

"Yes. I have. Since long before I realized," he admits as all fight leaves him.

A full minute passes, then two. Namjoon refuses to take the silence anymore.

“You don’t have to worry. I will sleep somewhere else tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take the KTX back to Seoul."

He is about to slide the door open when Jin speaks up again.

“Namjoon, I won’t ask you to stay. I can’t do it, knowing what it’s doing to you. But will I see you again?”

Namjoon hangs his head, teetering on the edge. He breathes in and then out.

But you don’t want me to stay anyway.

His indecisiveness, or rather his silence, seems to be enough of an answer for Jin.

“Joonah…” Jin speaks shakily.

Oh God please don’t cry. Please. He thinks. I couldn't possibly leave if you cry.

“Jennie didn’t actually kiss me that night!” Jin throws out there, an obvious tinge of desperation colouring his words.

Namjoon almost trips and falls while standing still.

“She doesn’t see me that way—never did. It was all an act. For—for you. To drive you away.”

Namjoon turns on his feet with utter disbelief and stares straight into Jin’s honest eyes.

“She wanted to open my eyes,” he says with an apologetic lilt to his words.

He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“And did she?”

“Will I see you again?” Jin evades his question.

At those words, something within Namjoon snaps.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, hyung.”

Jin blinks and Namjoon sighs, struggling to find the right words to explain the English proverb. But Jin speaks up before he has to chance to do so.

“Then let me have you.”

Chapter Text

“Then let me have you.” 

Namjoon goggles at Jin and then squints to check if he heard that right.

“Eat me, Namjoon.”

He feels a delirious chuckle escape his lips at the ludicrousness of Jin’s words. “Hyung, what on earth—”

And then Jin mumbles. He mumbles rather softly, something that could have been easily unheard or even misheard considering how loudly Namjoon had been about to question Jin’s sanity. And yet, those two words spoken rather meekly completely derail him.

“Kiss me.”

Namjoon’s breath catches in his throat.

Within seconds, his body has crossed the small room in a few long strides very much of his own volition and he stops right in front of Jin, towering over him.

He holds Jin’s gaze, noticing how he is almost strung taut with tension but Jin stares back almost defiantly.

"I thought you were about to kiss me.”

“I won’t unless you ask me to. Until…you ask me to.”

He has to be sure.

“Ask me,” Namjoon says. “Again.”

Jin loses his composure, eyes blinking twice in rapid succession, lips parting for a sharp intake of breath. Namjoon doesn’t fail to notice how his Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow and watches his tongue dart out to moisten his lips.

“Well, it’s not like you want to see me again. And I wouldn’t ever be able to find out if I—well, you know—so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”

Jin is nervous; he is babbling and his eyes are downcast. Namjoon isn’t feeling any better.

He curls an index finger underneath Jin’s chin and gently urges him to meet his eyes.

“I won’t repeat myself, hyung.”

Namjoon holds his breath, and seconds tick by with excruciating slowness until Jin enunciates with such clarity that it leaves no room for doubt—

“I asked you to kiss me.”

And that is all the permission he needs.

He lets his thumb stretch over Jin’s chin to skim his bottom lip. Jin’s eyes, so wide and clear just a moment ago, squeeze shut at his touch.

As if kissing hurts. Namjoon finds Jin cute in that moment, amusing even.

He leans in slowly and then—so as to not shock Jin too much—presses his lips against the other’s lightly. He hardly wants to scare Jin off or overwhelm him at this stage. He fights the urge for more and pulls away, his heart going off a mile a minute and then waits. Jin’s eyes snap open, lips parting in an exhale.

“Not good enough,” he says.

Namjoon blanches. Way to compliment someone’s kissing skills. “Hyung, what—”

He doesn’t have much room to speak however as in the next moment Jin has grabbed him by the neck again, just like the last time when he had kissed Namjoon's cheek.

He stares him straight in the eye and says,

“All or nothing, Joonah. I need to know.”

And with that declaration, he closes the gap between them once again. This time around, he wishes Jin had been considerate enough of his delicate sensibilities.

Namjoon stumbles backwards at the voraciousness with which Jin attacks his mouth, the latter’s arm winding around his waist to steady him.

Before he knows it, he is up against a wall, Jin’s hands leaving trails of heat wherever they touch his skin. The kissing is hurried, it’s raw and it’s definitely with intent.

And then Jin does something even worse than frantically making out.           

He swipes his tongue against the seam of Namjoon’s lips and before Namjoon can even protest the speed at which their very first kiss is progressing, Jin gains entrance to his mouth.

And then?

And then Jin kisses him slowly, sensually, pulling and pushing and pressing and thoroughly frying his brain cells in the process, leaving him gasping for more. This time around, Jin takes his time with Namjoon’s mouth. A shiver run downs his spine at how very explorative his tongue manages to be. And the pleasure that overloads his nerve cells is almost excruciating.

For the first time in his life, Namjoon’s mind is abruptly quiet, as if it’s been silenced by Jin’s lips. The only information he recognizes and registers is sensory. The heat of Jin’s body against him, the sheer fullness of Jin’s plump lips as they caress his own, the warmth and wetness of his mouth and the fire that his hands arouse where they caress his skin.

Jin slows down even more, his kisses losing their intensity, losing the fire but gaining a certain sweetness to them as he presses one final lingering kiss to his mouth, pulling on his lower lip gently before moving away.

“I didn’t kiss your lips that night, did I?” Jin whispers, his hand coming around Namjoon’s neck to rest against his chest. The other palm rests against his hip.

Namjoon swallows and clears his throat. So that his voice doesn’t betray how thoroughly ravished he feels.

“How did you know?” He asks.

“I think I would remember something this spectacular.”

And God bless him, for it sounds like a yes to Namjoon.

Jin’s lips (the lips that were on his a moment ago!) are graced with a slight smirk, looking even fuller and redder than usual, stark against pale skin lit by moonlight. His eyes are sharp, pupils blown wide and Namjoon wonders if he looks the same.

“Hyung…” Namjoon begins, not knowing what to say.

“Shush,” Jin shuts him up quite effectively with his index finger tapping once on his lips.

“Namjoonah, the thing with Jennie…it’s not what you think…”

“So you weren’t trying to cling onto your heterosexuality?” Namjoon asks, lips curving into a half-smile.

Jin winces and nods. “She’s an old friend who likes meddling unnecessarily.”

“Oh I don’t think it was all that unnecessary. I think it has turned out quite well. Don’t you?”

“What?” Jin giggles, swaying a little on his feet. Namjoon steadies him with an arm around his waist, something close to joy flooding his veins when Jin doesn’t pull away.

“That show she put on hadn’t been for me, had it?” Namjoon asks, raising his finger to brush back a strand of Jin’s hair. “I did get fooled—she’s a brilliant actress, by the way. She’s definitely found her calling.”

“Namjoon!” Jin exclaims indignantly. Namjoon honestly doesn’t know why. It was a genuine compliment towards his actress friend.

“Yes, yes. It’s just that even though I—I suffered, the outcome is worth it.”

“Joonah,” Jin breathes, his hand rising to cup the other’s cheek. It is an apologetic gesture and Namjoon acknowledges it by leaning into the touch.

“I don’t think you understand how grateful I am that she staged the whole act. She clearly wanted to—to…”

“I’ll just say it, shall I?” Jin smiles one of his soft, breath-taking smiles and Namjoon melts, nodding his assent.

“Namjoon, Kim Jennie made me realize exactly what you mean to me. When I thought you had left for good, I was scared. And then I realized what I feared.”

Jin’s voice has dropped to a whisper, the words almost a sigh as they slip past his lips.

“I was scared I’d lose you. But then you came back. And despite what it was doing to you, you stayed. Nobody has ever stayed for me, Joonah.”

Namjoon doesn’t notice the tear until Jin’s hand on his cheek shifts to swipe at his skin. He huffs in surprise at it, even managing to giggle when Jin looks at the moisture on his thumb with his lips parted in the shape of an ‘o’.

“Joonah, I’m sorry,” he murmurs and Namjoon shakes his head the instant he realizes that it’s an apology.

“No, hyung. Don’t be.”

“Kim Nam Joon, I’m sorry for being such a fool—for not recognizing what it was that I felt for you. If I had done it sooner…”

“Then I—” Namjoon clears his throat before continuing. “If you’d done it any sooner, I wouldn’t have had the chance to woo you, hyung.”

Jin laughs and it sounds a little like he can’t believe what Namjoon’s said. And a little like he’s in awe.

“Thank you, Namjoonsshi, for taking the time and effort to court me,” Jin smiles and this time around it’s shy. But the smile fades when he meets his eyes again and he sobers up.

“I mistook it for friendship—a really, really meaningful and special friendship. I should have known better.”

Namjoon sniffs.

“You mean more to me than a just another friend.”

And then Jin colours, the flush obvious even in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

“And I would like to have the permission to introduce you to my actual friends as my—my—”

“As your?” He encourages the other.

Jin gulps audibly before saying, “As my boyfriend.”

Namjoon is laughing as he nods and Jin tries to steady his face to lock eyes with him.

“Hmm? Hmm?” Jin asks with a slight smile on his own face.

“Yes,” Namjoon agrees, still nodding with his eyes closed as he laughs a bit more. He’s positively giddy with joy.

He opens his eyes to a pair of glistening ones and raises his hand, a little hesitant with the way he brushes his thumb against Jin’s bottom lip, asking for permission.

Namjoon smiles when Jin ducks his head, the flush in his cheeks deepening. Then he quickly lands a peck on Namjoon’s lips, hugging him close before burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Namjoon winds his arms around the others, resting his chin on the mop of dark hair as they laugh together.

Jungkook wants to take a step back but at the same time, he wants to move closer.

He chooses not to do either of those things and stays frozen in place.

“How else do you think I meant it?”

Jungkook gulps. Taehyung is close, really close. His voice is so low, Jungkook can almost feel it rumbling in his chest.

When the meaning of his words registers, his heart takes off, thudding at the speed of helicopter blades in full flight. He can feel the blood rising to his face; he can feel it muddling his mind and his words. But he needs to get the words out before he is too drunk on his hyung’s proximity.

“But—what about Jimin hyung?” he says and at once, he can feel the hurt seep back into his elated heart and mind, in his voice.

Taehyung tilts his head to the other side this time, the deep brown of his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“What about Jimin hyung?” He asks.

It was now or never.

“I saw you two at Jimin hyung’s place. That night after your play. When you—when you—” Jungkook can’t bring himself to finish that sentence in front of Taehyung of all people.

But it seems that his vague stutters are explanation enough because Tae’s eyes widen and he takes a step back.

“Ah—of course. You would have a problem with that,” Taehyung seems to be muttering to himself. He runs a hand through his hair, bangs falling haphazardly into his eyes.

Jungkook wonders if this is something he should be offended at. He wonders if he should be explaining to someone two years older than him about how people do not go around kissing anybody except the person they had feelings for.

But that line of thought leads to other things like the fact that Taehyung had just admitted to liking him and by that logic, he should be the one getting kissed and Jungkook doesn’t want to go there right about now.

Things go a little awry inside his head, however, when Taehyung ruins his whole process of repression of whatever desires Jungkook may have for him by saying,

“I don’t want to kiss him the way I want to kiss you!”

Jungkook is a little slow in responding since his mind is currently trying to process the fact that Taehyung wants to—

“I mean—eurgh—I’d rather not kiss Jimin hyung at all that way,” Taehyung says after another second of contemplation with a full-body shudder.

Jungkook is still highly confused. Last he checked, kissing on the cheeks was the only acceptable form of kissing when it comes to people one isn’t romantically involved with. Or was he still too young to understand the workings of the world?

“The way I feel for you,” Taehyung begins, suddenly encroaching on his personal space again and taking both his hands in his own. “is completely different from what I feel for Jimin hyung. He is my best friend—as are you—but I don’t want to make out with him!”

Jungkook splutters at his words rather loudly. This alarms Taehyung and he hurries to make things better by making them even worse.

“I mean—I don’t want have babies with him!" He says. “Not that we’ll be able to,” he then adds as an afterthought.

Jungkook feels a little spinney. Dizzy! Dizzy was the word. And far too warm, too warm for a summer’s night at Daegu.

Across from him, something shifts in his friend’s eyes all of a sudden. Taehyung drops one of his hands to raise his own to Jungkook’s jaw.

Jungkook’s heart does its thing again, where he fears it will tear through his rib cage just for the heck of it.

“Jungkookah, do you trust me?”

The answer comes to him as quickly and easily as breathing. Actually, scratch that. He wasn’t doing very well at breathing at the moment.

“I do.”

A second hasn’t passed that the words have left his lips that Taehyung bridges the gap between them.

Jungkook’s first thought is that Taehyung’s lips are warm and soft. His second thought is that Taehyung’s kissing him!

If he hadn’t been fantasizing about this very moment for so long, perhaps the shock of it alone could have knocked him out. As it is, he is standing in front of Taehyung, connected to him in three points of touch.

Number one: Their lips.

Taehyung is kissing him fervently and Jungkook tries his best to kiss back with all of his zero experience in the field. His lips are persuasive. Jungkook feels limp in Taehyung’s hold as the other boy pulls and pushes at his lips with a fervor that could contest all the actors on TV.

Number two: The hand holding his.

Taehyung’s hand, originally holding onto his wrist, trails up his arm and goes to the small of his back to pull Jungkook closer to him. He wonders uselessly, helplessly, if Taehyung can feel his heartbeat through their connected chests.

Number three: The hand on his jaw.

Jungkook thinks that Taehyung meant to place a hand against his jaw, but his hands are far too large for merely that. They are large enough that even when his thumb is under Jungkook’s chin to raise his mouth to the other boy’s lips, his fingers are splayed, curling against the back of his neck, holding him in place.

Warmth seeps into Jungkook’s skin from the places where Taehyung touches him, warmth and pleasure and a thrill he had never associated with something like kissing. Most of all, he feels happy. After so long of pining after him (as Yoongi hyung had once put it), he was happy that his confession had been accepted with such enthusiasm.

He now knows where the phrase “weak in the knees” comes from. He is glad that Taehyung’s strong arms hold him. They keep him from falling.

When Taehyung pulls back (Jungkook is hoping it is only for a break, for a breath) and meets his eyes, he smiles and looks like the most beautiful man alive.

“This,” he says, referring to the kiss as if it had been a mere demo, “is how I’d never kiss Jimin hyung.”

“Jungkookah, will you go out with me?”

“I hadn’t been agonizing over her that night in my room before you came, hyung. I was scared of how I much I wanted you."

A hush falls over their surroundings, but there’s a strange ringing in his ears. Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of it, staring straight ahead, a little disoriented.

“All the while that she was speaking to me, droning on about how she’d never repeat the same mistakes again, I was terrified by the fact that I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of that. I’d envisaged that scene over and over again, pictured myself giving her a second chance.”

He feels Hoseok grip his hand tighter.

“But I couldn’t get rid of your name echoing in my mind, hyung.”

Yoongi meets his eyes. He feels shaken at the earnestness in them.

“And that night I was scared that I was going to end up driving you away, too. That I wouldn’t want you as a mere friend, I’d want more from you. That I’d want…more of you.”

Hoseok looks away, at his shoes, perhaps. Yoongi can’t tell as he's trying not to look at the man, too.

“All of you,” he says with his eyes still downcast.

Yoongi swallows, parting his lips to say something. But he feels far too weak for that. He’s been shocked into silence. He forces himself to focus on Hoseok’s words even though a peculiar numbness is taking over his body and his mind.

“And I was scared that I would ask for it. That I would confess. But of course, you wouldn’t want me that way.”

“And yet, when I heard your voice through the door at some ungodly hour, when I opened it to see you standing there,” Hoseok raises his head to lock eyes with him. The determination in them almost makes Yoongi’s heart give out.

“I knew I would want all or nothing. I couldn’t rest without knowing, if you’d have me.”

Yoongi should have known better. He should have known that Hoseok would try to convince him.

He tries to disengage from Hoseok, pulls his hand carefully from the other’s. Hoseok lets him.

“Is it your parents that you’re scared of? Is it that you can’t put yourself through that again?”

“It’s you, Seokah.”

Hoseok feels his throat dry up.

“Me?” He asks, not really wanting to know what Yoongi’s mind has in store for him.

“It’s how you feel. I can’t be with you like that. Like some rebound.”

Hoseok huffs out a sudden laugh. And then another and then he is just laughing at the utter ridiculousness of Yoongi’s words.

“Rebound?  Hyung, didn’t you hear me? I don’t care about her. She was just an excuse. I have feelings for you. I have had them ever since that night when I was beating myself up over crying in front of you when you eased all of that with just one word.”

Hoseok thinks back to that moment…

Hoseok splashes his face with water, turns off the tap and places his palms on the marble countertop, his head bowing in relief.

He is glad the bathroom is empty, leaving him to a few precious minutes of peace and thought.

This boy Yoongi was…something.

He has never been able to avert intrusive thoughts before today.

He hadn’t realized when he had gotten teary eyed over Seokjin’s character, only feeling the cold tear tracks when Yoongi had surprised him with a hand on his knee.

And it was only after they had arrived and settled in at the restaurant that he had realized what a foolish mistake it had been to cry like that and make Yoongi uncomfortable when he barely knew Hoseok.

Her voice had filtered into his mind at once.

“You are such a crybaby. Can you handle not wailing for one second?”

He shudders at the thought and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to push it away with all his might.

Hoseok had quickly tried to correct his mistake, apologizing while hoping to God that he hadn’t put him off already. But Yoongi…Yoongi had turned out to be such a—pleasant surprise, offering comfort instead of criticism.

Hoseok raises his head to stare his reflection in the eye.

Sensitive. He had called Hoseok sensitive.

Such an untainted word. He exhales loudly through his mouth and straightens up.

He flexes his right hand, the one Yoongi had covered with his own palm.

“Get a grip on yourself, Jung Hoseok.”

One touch, no questions asked and just like that: his mind had turned a complete blank.

It had only taken him one moment to revel in the silence, the purity of it and he had felt his smile being turned back on like a light bulb.

He tries to replicate it, stretching his lips wide, adjusting the light in his eyes and turning on the sincerity in them.

He recollects the ghost of Yoongi’s touch and the smile morphs into something more genuine.

Hoseok straightens his blazer, runs a hand through his hair and nods at his reflection.

Taking one last look at himself, he leaves.

“You called me sensitive. I have gone through my life hearing different expletives for how I am but sensitive was never one of them,” he scoffs. “That’s when I knew I had your respect.”

“Of course I respect you…You are a person.”

Hoseok smiles at how baffled Yoongi sounds. He’d found such a pure soul.

“I wasn’t afforded the same respect by others. It may not seem important to you, hyung. But to me…it allowed me to be who I am, unapologetically so. I have never felt as free as I am when I’m with you.”

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. The act of admitting so much is already taking a toll on him. However, he hesitates and then continues.

“This might sound unreal but you let me feel like it’s not a crime to be just me, you know,” he shrugs, stuffing a hand into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie.

“I have different versions of me ready to put out in front of different people…With you, I don’t need—” He fumbles for the right words. “I don’t need an elaborate façade. I don’t need to put up a play.”

“You make me like who I am. You’ve let me like who I am.”

Hoseok is hurting at this point. His heart hurts, his mind hurts, and his body hurts, too. But he has to say the next words that surface inside his head. Love was, after all, a voluntary act.

“But—but of course if you’re not up for someone like me, I understand.”

He hunches over, ready to walk away and even manages to take a few steps, putting on his hood the moment he realizes that his eyes are pricking with tears. He tucks both his hands into the pocket of his jacket, quickening his pace as he leaves Yoongi behind.

He doesn’t want to face the kids further down the road, not when the tears are coming freely now. Through the loud, uneven beating of his own heart, he doesn’t hear fast footsteps catching up with him.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, grabbing onto it, fingers digging into his skin and Hoseok is swiveled around by force.

“Are you kidding me?” Yoongi growls, voice rough and deep.

As if all of this—these feelings and all the absolutely unnecessary pain was some sort joke Hoseok had orchestrated just to make others laugh. Just to see Yoongi crack a grin, to evoke that soft laughter that made his heart warm up that only Yoongi was capable of. Like he always did.

This hurts more than anything has so far. Hurts like a bitch.

He feels anger rise from deep within, bursting forth all at once as he snarls in Yoongi’s face.

“For once in your goddamn life, take me seriously!”

Yoongi, completely unfazed at his words, sharply says, “Oh, I will.”

And then he grabs the sides of the hood with both hands, moving closer until Hoseok's hands are trapped in the kangaroo pouch between their bodies and leans in.

"This is what I've wanted to do ever since I met you."

And then he does exactly what Hoseok never thought would happen again. Yoongi kisses him.

Hoseok must admit, he hadn’t seen it coming. He’d pretty much signed this whole thing off as a right disaster, yet another person Jimin would never mention around him again and yet…yet, here they are.

Yoongi’s kisses are soft; Hoseok can almost taste the underlying thirst as he kisses back. He’s holding himself back and Hoseok is glad. A little more passion and Hoseok would be driven into consuming the other man alive right here out in the open.

He laughs shakily when Yoongi breaks their kiss to pepper his face more kisses, pulling his hands out of his pocket to hold Yoongi closer.

With a start, he realizes that there is order to his kisses. Yoongi is trapping tears with his lips. “Seokah, I’m sorry,” Yoongi says between kisses. “I’m so sorry. I misunderstood. I just didn’t want to take advantage of you, not when you were heartbroken over her.”

That doesn’t help one bit, making Hoseok even more tearful at the other’s gentleness. Yoongi pulls back slowly, saying, “Yah…you’re scaring me now.” Hoseok chuckles a little

“Apology accepted, hyung. It wasn’t like I made it clear that I was crying my eyes out over you.”

Yoongi chuckles dryly and says, “Let me look at you,” reaching out to run a hand through Hoseok’s hair. The hood drops down to his shoulders, Hoseok closes his eyes and Yoongi sighs.

“I have been wanting to tell you this for quite some time now...” Yoongi begins, clearing his throat.

“You’re beautiful.”

The compliment is spoken rather gruffly. It throws Hoseok off completely, making him laugh again at the way Yoongi looks like he wants to bury himself.

“I didn’t know you were such a sap, hyung.”

Yoongi, as always, is quick with a retort, “Doesn’t take a sap to see it, Seokah. I’m not blind.”

Hoseok feels bashful at the matter-of-fact way in which Yoongi speaks and he shoves his hands into his pockets again, rocking back on his heels while avoiding his friend’s eyes.

He feels Yoongi’s hand against his cheek, his lips automatically seeking the other’s when he senses Yoongi move into his space again.

Yoongi kisses him sweetly, softly, with a yearning Hoseok mirrors. His fingers find Yoongi’s neck, curving around it only to pull him closer. Their kisses are slow and languid, as if that’s the only thing they want to do now.

However, the very next moment, they hear wolf-whistling and spring apart, groaning when they realize it’s only Taehyung.

“Yah, mind your own business,” Yoongi berates loudly from where they stand and Hoseok laughs, tugging on Yoongi’s hand to urge him to walk towards the kids.

“Hyung, hold on,” Hoseok whispers when they are closer to them and rushes towards Taehyung, throwing an arm over his shoulders.

He leans in to whisper in the boy’s ear as they walk, Taehyung still linked with Jungkook by their hands.

“You know, this doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you.”

That does the trick.

Taehyung shrieks, throws off his arm and sets off into a flat out run, not even listening to Jungkook calling after him as they all hoot with laughter.

Jungkook goes after him once he is done guffawing, leaving the older boys behind.

Hoseok turns to Yoongi with a smile and Yoongi responds with a purse of his lips which eventually splits into an adorable, almost shy grin when Hoseok takes his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“So, hyung, can I drop the honorifics now?”

“Yah!”

Chapter Text

 EPILOGUE

"Hyung, admit it, you wanted to kiss me that night when I promised you my friendship by the river, hadn't you?"

"Hah. Not at all. It was just nice what you'd offered is all."

"Hmm, alright..."

"And you, Joonah? You never told me when you fell head over heels in love with me."

"Hyung...I fell for you the very first time I ever laid eyes on you."

"Hyung, do you not..."

"No, Jungkook, you can rest assured. I don't want to romance Taehyung at all."

"And hyung..."

"Taehyungie, however affectionate he might be towards me, he doesn't like me that way either."

"But then the..."

"Kissing? I think that's just...us. He says I'm far too adorable to not be kissed and I don't mind at all."

"So...you don't love him, hyung?"

"Who said I don't? I'm enamoured with our Taehyung. As are you. I think he's very lucky to have found two people who love him as much as we do, don't you think?"

“Kookah, that was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, hyung! Could you try not to announce it to the world?”

“Don’t worry. You were my first, too!”

“What about Jimin hyung?”

“Told you it doesn’t count.”

“Then Hoseok hyung?”

“Yah!”

“Hoseok, that night when were at the theater for Taehyung’s play, you were coming onto me weren’t you?”

“Why? Did it work?”

“I like it better when I’m the one getting you flustered.”

“Is that so, Yoongi?”

“Yah! I’m your hyung, you punk.”

“Alright…hyung.”

Daegu, it was suffice to say, had been idyllic.

The Morning After (as all seven of them liked to refer to it) had been one of the best mornings of all of their lives. Except perhaps Jimin’s because he called himself the mutual thirdwheel to all the three newborn relationships. Ironic, how that had turned out.

But ever since, Jimin was practically worshipped by each of them for playing matchmaker and for being responsible for single-handedly and successfully getting all of them together.

Jimin didn’t ever complain about all the coddling and the pampering he was showered with by each of them. Suddenly, Jungkook wasn’t all that favoured even as the youngest.

Not that the child minded very much.

It seems that Taehyung had been all that he needed. It was intriguing how Taehyung was equally affectionate with both Jimin and Jungkook (leaving out whatever happened between the youngest and him behind closed doors, of course).

But Jungkook didn’t mind that in the slightest either.

One would think tensions would run high between Taehyung’s ChimChim and Taehyung’s Kookie. But all three of them just—fit, like puzzle pieces that had fallen into place.

Or perhaps there was not a jealous bone in any of their bodies.

Unlike someone else they knew.

Yoongi, as it had turned out, could be fierce when he wanted to protect what was his from unwanted attention.

Jackson (the only other person positively ecstatic about the trinity of outcomes of the Daegu trip apart from all seven of them) had only been fishing for information on all their love lives, Hoseok and him hitting it off when the latter had been waiting at the café for Yoongi.

Yoongi, upon entrance to the café, on seeing Jackson slap Hoseok’s arm playfully at something funny he’d said, had promptly tried to spear that same hand to the table, getting them kicked out of the café (but not without a complimentary pastry only for Hoseok, generously given by Jackson).

Needless to say, it had come as a scary surprise to all of them and sometimes when Yoongi was over, even Jimin steered clear of Hoseok.

“Joonah? Namjoon?”

Funny how everything had turned out perfectly fine for all of them.

A kiss to his lips startles him out of his reverie and makes all thoughts disappear

Namjoon hums in pleasure, apologizing against his boyfriend’s lips for being lost in thought, turning to give Jin his full, undivided attention.

And this? This had turned out splendidly.

Taehyung sighs at Jungkook’s ministrations, humming with pleasure at the way the boy rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Taehyungah, don’t fall asleep like that,” Jimin says.

Taehyung whines against where he is curled up into Jungkook’s side and sighs deeper when his boyfriend gently pats him on the head.

“Yah, Taehyungah, don’t you think you’re overworking the boy?” Jimin asks.

“No, hyung. He is my boyfriend. He likes doing this for me.”

He looks up at Jungkook and quickly leans up to press a peck to his lips at the cutest blush that has spread over his cheeks already.

Jungkook still gets squirmy whenever he hears the word ‘boyfriend’. It will take some getting used to, he had said. Well, Taehyung had all the time in the world to help him out with that.

“There you go again, making me feel like a thirdwheel on your date.”

Taehyung sits up on the bed, frowning at Jimin who is engrossed in his book. He can’t help but feel bad about Jimin’s words. It isn’t as if they are leaving him out. Taehyung never ever wanted to make him feel that way.

“Hyung, but you’re one of us,” he says simply.

Jimin looks up from his book to just blink at Taehyung. He tries to think of something to make Jimin feel included.

“I know what to do!” He says. “We should play a game.”

“What kind of game, hyung?” Jungkook asks.

Jimin looks up from his book curiously.

“You’ll see!”

Hoseok sighs, reaching over the countertop.

He steadies Yoongi’s jaw with four fingers on his cheek and swipes his thumb over the other’s upper lip, wiping away the foam there.

He only realizes his mistake when Yoongi’s jaw drops in shock.

They were still trying to get used to this, this new dynamic that they had established. There were frequent touches and there were desires for more but neither of them had really crossed the line into anything other than strictly kissing.

Yoongi, Hoseok had come to find, was a bag full of surprises. Quite possessive (Hoseok had frowned upon this when he had almost managed to send Jackson off to the emergency room using just a fork, thank God for his bad aim—but that’s not to say he didn’t secretly like it) and quite a sucker for physical affection (asking for hugs and pecks and pats and rubs and snuggles and whatnot), he near about resembled a cat nowadays.

And the biggest surprise of all, he had gotten infinitely better at making Hoseok feel hot and bothered by alluding to certain things…best left not alluded to.

Hoseok’s thumb lifts off his friend’s lip, curling into his palm as his fingers twitch against the latter’s cheek.

Yoongi’s eyes darken and Hoseok feels like a prey caught in a snake’s gaze. A second passes and another, his pulse racing.

He makes to retract his hand but Yoongi grabs it and Hoseok is suddenly thanking all deities in every religion for the counter that stretches between them.

His heart thuds desperately against his ribcage as he prays for a distraction.

His vague mumblings about Jimin and Taehyung probably having fun in their room are brought to a stuttering halt when Yoongi’s thumb rubs up into the ticklish center of his palm, making his cheeks redden at the conflicting urges of wanting more of that but wanting to snatch his hand away at the same time.

I’ll be forever indebted to whoever saves me from this mess, he chants in his head.

“Hoseok hyung!”

Hoseok almost sags with relief when Yoongi drops his hand and resumes drinking his coffee as if he hadn’t just been eyeing Hoseok as he would a medium rare steak and gets to his feet rather unsteadily with his hands holding onto the counter for support.

“Hyung, do we have any snacks around?”

“Snacks?” He throws Taehyung a weak smile, promising the deities that he would treat that boy better. No more kissing threats.

“Yes. I want to play Guess the Taste with the boys!”

“You mean the one with the blindfold where you spoon-feed weird concoctions to them and they have to figure out what you have made?” Yoongi drawls and Hoseok tries his best to not meet the man’s eyes.

“Yes! Except, instead, I’ll be mouth-feeding it to them.”

Yoongi chokes on his drink and Hoseok gags, slapping a hand to his mouth.

Jimin saunters in after him and whacks the back of Taehyung’s head lightly with a quick, “No you’re not.”

“But you are my baby chicks and I’m your mother!” He throws his head back, wailing and Hoseok sags onto his seat in relief for the second time that day, watching Jimin go through their cabinets for random foods.

Of course, if it were Taehyung, how could he possibly have sexual intentions when it came to playing innocent, elementary level games?

Unlike someone else Hoseok knew…

He sneaks a peek at Yoongi through the corner of his eye and looks away with a stifled squeak when he finds the guy already looking at him, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

He quickly excuses himself once Taehyung has bounced back into the room after Jimin, deciding that time spent with the little ones was time well spent after all.

But not before Yoongi steals a kiss.

His lips are laced with creamy moisture, his mouth tasting of caffeine and milk delicious, delicious sweetness and Hoseok loses himself in trying to figure out what else he’d had for breakfast.

And as he kisses his boyfriend back, he corrects himself.

Maybe Guess the Taste wasn’t such an elementary level game after all.

Jimin stirs awake when he feels the bed dip under someone’s weight, blearily opening his eyes. He doesn’t know when he had dozed off. The younger ones always had him exhausted by the end of the day.

“Hyung,” he smiles in greeting to Hoseok.

“Jiminah. Tired?”

Jimin just nods.

Hoseok smiles in response, his personal favourite. Jimin can tell just how fond his hyung is of him when he smiles like that.

“I came to tuck you in but…” he jerks his chin in the direction of Jimin’s lap.

“Ah, yes."

Taehyung is sleeping peacefully with his head on Jimin’s thigh, arm thrown across his legs. His palm rests on Jungkook’s back who mirrors Taehyung’s position on Jimin’s other side. Their legs are thrown over his outstretched ones and that’s when Jimin realizes that he can’t feel his legs anymore.

He exhales in an amused huff, letting his head lean back against the wall. He watches Hoseok observe the way Jimin’s hands rest on each of their heads, fingers entangled in their hair. He remembers how he had fallen asleep singing them to sleep.

“Jiminah…” Hoseok begins in a whisper.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing? What is this?”

Jimin knows what he is referring to and he gets why he would ask something like this. From the outside, the relationship the three of them shared didn’t really make any sense.

He knows Hoseok cares for him, that he is trying to look out for him. Some day, he will sit Hoseok down and try to explain the situation to the best of his abilities. But today was not that day.

While looking for a temporary answer, however, a particular memory rises under focus in Jimin’s mind and he feels a smile stretch his lips until he’s grinning softly.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t seriously considered Hoseok once in the early days of their friendship. The man had been eye-catching from the start. His bright personality, never-ending positivity, and the sheer warmth with which he had always treated Jimin had made him soar with joy. He had grown to care for the boy deeply without having realized it. Hoseok hyung was his favourite person in the world (now alongside Taehyung)

But Jimin had known he was out of bounds. He was straight and he was his best friend and he was out of limits. There was no way Jimin was going to cross that line.

But then hyung was hurting. He was hurting and Jimin was no fool despite all the attempts Hoseok made at trying to convince him that all was fine and that she had been just a fling for him, too. When he began to notice the symptoms of depression, Jimin had been scared. Hoseok didn’t smile anymore, there were no random outbursts of laughter evoked by memes on the internet, there were no more movie nights, Hoseok never took him out for dessert treats when he would love to spoil Jimin with sweets otherwise.

Jimin was scared and he didn’t know what to do so he sought the help of an expert. He talked to a counselor in the Psychology department of their college and she had said one thing.

“Whatever you do, keep him company. Become his constant. Let him know you care however you can. But most of all don’t let him isolate himself.”

So that’s what he had done. He would plans that had the possibility of going on late into the night, keeping Hoseok company during that time of the day when it was most difficult for the man to be alone with his thoughts.

And during one such night, Hoseok himself had let the lines between them blur. He had gazed and touched and asked, oh how politely he had asked, how hesitantly. As if Jimin hadn’t been waiting for it all along.

So Jimin had given in to his curiosity, had hoped he could make him change his mind about women. He should have known it wasn’t meant to be. Not when Jimin was scared that their friendship would fall apart after Hoseok began to distance himself from him. Especially not when Yoongi came along.

There had come a time when Jimin had been envious of what Yoongi and Hoseok shared. He knew it was wrong, he knew that he should have been appreciating Yoongi for having drawn Hoseok out of something like a fugue that had lasted months on end after his break-up. When he was well over Hoseok, he did grow to love Yoongi, too. Not just for being the person he was, but for having helped his best friend through difficult times however unknowingly. For bringing laughter back into his life.

But he couldn’t help but wonder if it should have been him who made Hoseok smile like that, who made Hoseok blush and giggle and want to dance like he was still a school-going child.

A small part of him wanted to know if he’d still had a chance to gain Hoseok’s affection. However thin the sliver of opportunity, he was willing to take it.

So he had asked, exactly like a jealous second lead starring in a drama.

“What is it that you feel for Yoongisshi? What exactly is this, hyung?”

And even when Hoseok replied with uncertain words, Jimin had known that he had lost to Yoongi. There was just something about his voice when he’d said it.

So Jimin recites his answer in the softest voice he can so as to not disturb the sleep of his friends. He repeats the exact words Hoseok had spoken, back at him.

“I don’t know what to call this yet.”

Hoseok closes the door to Jimin’s room behind him when he is done tucking the boy in, laughing to himself at what Jimin had said.

The four of them had been worried about the youngest three after the reconciliation at Daegu, hoping that none got hurt in the middle of things if they were to go wrong. He is relieved that Jimin knows what he is doing when it comes to Taehyung and Jungkook.  He has faith in the boy.

Jimin’s words had brought back a memory of the conversation he remembered all too well.

He walks into his room and carefully shuts the door, settling into his bed gently, and pulls the blankets over his body, turning on his side.

“What is it that you feel for him? What is this, hyung?” Jimin had asked.

He had said, “I don’t know what to call this yet.”

But now, as he looks at the man asleep beside him, made up of soft features but sharp stares that often made his stomach erupt in butterflies, he knows exactly what to call it.

He leans over slowly and presses a kiss to Yoongi's forehead. The man shifts in his sleep, seeking out Hoseok's warmth as he snuggles into his side.

He calls it

love.