Chapter Text
"Yoongi-ssi? We've submitted the project already, okay?"
Yoongi is gathering his things, shoving papers into his bag, ready to book it out of the study room, when one of his group partners makes an attempt to speak to him. He nods and throws his bag over his shoulder.
"I-It was nice working with you..." Yoongi only nods again, shuffling closer to the door.
"Don't bother," he hears on his way out. "He doesn't give a shit anyways. Aren't group projects meant to be done together?"
Yoongi ignores the sneer and keeps walking, shutting the study room door quietly. It's immature to slam doors in public- he'll do that once he's home.
It's not the first time that his silence has been taken as arrogance or indifference. Yoongi doesn't try to argue against it. Really, he could try to talk with his peers more, but he can't help but clamp up around people he's uncomfortable with. Yoongi's not going to waste his time forcing a friendship. If it happens, it happens. If not, well, he'd rather skip the awkward small talk and just stay quiet.
It's not as if he didn't do his work. Why is it his fault if his partners couldn't do their own?
Yoongi sighs, breathing in the cool evening air. His breath is visible when he exhales. He puffs out several times and enjoys watching the wisps of air escape his lungs. Tucking his hoodie tighter around himself, Yoongi makes his way to the bus stop. He doesn't have to wait long, and soon hears the rumbling engine and squeaky movements of the bus. While waiting for it to pull up, he takes out his phone, shooting a quick message to his roommate.
suga glider: (07:43 pm)
on my way home
The bus isn't too full when he steps on. Yoongi quickly settles into a seat near the rear, ignoring the cautious glances he gets from several passengers. He plugs in his headphones, noticing a influx of text notifications.
forever roommate: (07:48 pm)
okay~
forever roommate: (07:48 pm)
and uh, we kinda have a...
situation at home...
forever roommate: (07:49 pm)
could you pls stop by the
store n get a tub of chunky
monkey and two bags of
skittles??
Yoongi frowns, raising his head to make sure the bus hasn't passed his stop.
suga glider: (07:50 pm)
i will
suga glider: (07:50 pm)
...is tae okay?
forever roommate: (07:51 pm)
ur the best yoongi-chi~
physically, yes. emotionally...
no
forever roommate: (07:51 pm)
don't worry, just get home safe
and soon, okay?
Yoongi sends a confirmation and leans back in his seat, searching for a comfortable position. As soon as he settles, the bus stops, and he bites back a groan when he realizes it's his stop. The temperature seems to have dropped by a few degrees, and he curses his poor wardrobe choice- his thin, worn hoodie does little to protect him from the cold.
The convenience store isn't far from the bus stop, but it is in the opposite direction of his apartment. Yoongi walks quickly, still unsettled by just what he's picking up: ice cream and skittles. Taehyung's depression food. Yoongi hopes nothing too serious has happened. Still, he lengthens his strides, walking faster.
The door opens with a chime. The cashier barely glances at Yoongi and continues to flip through a magazine. He quickly makes his way to the freezers and grabs three small tubs of ice cream. As soon as the freezer door swings shut, he turns on his heels and power walks to the candy aisle.
"Skittles, Skittles..." Yoongi mutters, eyes searching the shelves. There's an empty spot where he swears the skittles should be. "Where are the damn skittles?"
Yoongi shuffles along the aisle, mumbling to himself.
"Shit!" Yoongi trips, tubs of Chunky Monkey ice cream rolling across the floor.
"Oh! Uh, sorry."
"Ah- ow, what the fuck?" Yoongi whines, rising to his knees and rubbing the heels of his palms. He turns to glare at the leg that tripped him, eyes rising until they make contact with a handsome face. The boy's leaning against the opposite shelf, legs stretched across the aisle. Yoongi notices a flash of color across his lap.
"You!" Yoongi whispers harshly.
"Me?" The boy raises a brow.
"Give me those skittles," Yoongi hisses. The missing box of skittles is nestled tightly between the boy's thighs. Empty wrappers are scattered around him, and exactly four bags are left in the box.
The boy looks down at the box and frowns. He glances back up at Yoongi, face grim. "I'm afraid I can't."
Yoongi glares. "I need them. My friend's life depends on this."
"Your friend's life also depends on three tubs of..." The Skittle Stealer glances at the nearest tub, nose crinkling. "Chunky Monkey? Gross."
"Says the person that's gone through a whole damn box of skittles, and refuses to share despite the fate of the world depending on it," Yoongi grits out, fingers twitching to reach towards the box.
The boy grins, amused. Rabbit, pops into Yoongi's mind. What the fuck?
"Your friend must be an important person if the world depends on his happiness," he giggles, sliding the box away.
"He is. It does. I need those damn skittles, now. The clock is ticking. There's only half an hour 'til the bomb detonates." Yoongi reaches for the box, and the boy waves it around in the air, avoiding Yoongi's grabby hands.
"You see," the boy is openly laughing now. "I need these skittles." He gestures to a textbook laying open next to him. "They're the source of my power, and it's finals week."
"Do you always study in convenient stores, eating whole boxes of candy without paying?" Yoongi spits.
"Hey, I pay!" The boy looks offended. "I have a whole tab system going here."
"Listen, kid, cut the crap. Just give me the skittles."
The boy chews on his bottom lip. "Fine. But only because the world depends on it. You owe me, stranger-ssi," he drawls.
"Sure, sure." Yoongi snatches the box away when the boy offers it, scooping up the packets of skittles. "...Thanks."
The boy smiles warmly, laughter lingering in his eyes. "Your ice cream's leaking. All three of them."
"Fuck!" Yoongi crawls across the floor, picking up the three tubs of ice cream, hesitating when he stands. The boy raises a brow at him. Just as Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, his phone goes off. He looks at the screen and grimaces.
"H-Hyung," he answers.
The boy grins from the floor when he hears a voice yelling through the phone.
"I'm leaving the store now, hyung." Yoongi shuffles away a bit, glancing at the boy. "Well, I- uh- got a little tripped up." That earns him a snort and a bunny-grin.
"I know it's a national emergency! Actually, I have no idea what's going on." Yoongi groans. "Yes, yes. I will. Okay. I will." He hangs up with a huff.
"Are all your friends as dramatic as you, stranger-ssi?"
"Worse," Yoongi deadpans. The boy chuckles before standing, dusting of his jeans, and Yoongi realizes that he has to look up at the other.
The boy reaches a hand out.
"May I borrow your phone?" Yoongi stares a bit too long at the tan hand, and nods jerkily, handing it over.
The boy taps on his phone for a suspiciously long amount of time before dialing, not even raising the phone to his ear. Yoongi watches in horror. A ring comes from inside the boy's jacket, and he pulls out his own cellphone, silencing it before handing back Yoongi's phone.
Yoongi instantly goes to his call history, the most recent one made to a new contact named Jungkookie~ followed by a bunny emoji. At least he's self-aware, Yoongi thinks.
What actually comes out of his mouth is a spluttered, "What the fuck?"
Jungkook laughs. "Don't think I'll let you forget about owing me. I just helped you save the world, after all."
Yoongi blanches. "I-I mean, I guess? Couldn't you have just asked me for my number?" The act Jungkook just pulled was way too smooth, and Yoongi hates it- hates that he's flustered by it.
Jungkook winks- actually winks. Yoongi forgets how to form words for a second. "That wouldn't have been as much fun, now would it?"
"See you around, Min Yoongi." Jungkook smirks before tossing his empty skittles wrappers inside his textbook, snapping it shut and picking it up, leaving a shocked Yoongi behind.
"What the fuck?" He whispers. "What the actual fuck?"
Yoongi's phone goes off again- probably Seokjin- and he doesn't bother to hold back his groan.
•
Yoongi bursts into the apartment. Not even a second after he toes off his shoes, he's hit by a solid weight- arms clinging around him.
"Yoongi-hyung," Taehyung sniffs into Yoongi's hair. "Boys suck!"
Over Taehyung's shoulder, Yoongi sees Seokjin sprawled across the living room carpet, breathing heavily. He looks up to Yoongi with a scowl.
"Do you want to know how many times we've played Just Dance waiting for you to get here? Too bad! I lost count." Seokjin grits out.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." Yoongi waddles into the room, leading Taehyung, who's still wrapped around him. "Guess what I have, Tae?"
Taehyung perks up, and pulls away, snatching the bag from Yoongi. His face lights up with a boxy grin, and Yoongi smiles. Until, Taehyung's face crumples up, and he starts crying again. Yoongi jumps forward, leading him to the couch, and sitting him down. Seokjin runs to the kitchen and comes back with three spoons and a roll of napkins, claiming the space on Taehyung's other side.
"What happened, TaeTae?" Yoongi frowns, while Seokjin strokes the younger's hair.
Taehyung opens a tub of ice cream and digs in, sniveling. "I caught my boyfriend cheating on me." Yoongi's stomach drops.
Seokjin glances at Yoongi, before returning his attention to Taehyung, who continues speaking.
"We were together for almost a year, hyung, and it's like..."
"A shitty thing to do?" Yoongi finishes, clenching his fists. "One of the worst things to go through, when you're the one cheated on? Like a fucking mind game? Like it feels like your fault, and you wake up and wonder what you could've possibly done to make him cheat, if he's been cheating the whole damn time, why you weren't enough, why he couldn't just grow a pair and dump you first, because fuck, that would hurt less?"
"Yoongi-yah," Seokjin warns.
"...Yeah," Taehyung mumbles, resting his head on Yoongi's shoulder. "Yeah, it- it hurts, hyung."
"Let it out, Taehyung-ah." Yoongi encourages. "Let it all out."
Taehyung does. He cries, and tells them exactly what happened. How his morning class had been cancelled, so he'd headed over to his boyfriend's dorm to surprise him, only to hear him messing around with some girl from outside the door. Taehyung hadn't burst into the room, yelling and throwing whatever he got his hands on. Instead, he walked home, put all his boyfriend's things in a box, and left it on the curb. He'd texted a simple 'It's over.' and his boyfriend hadn't tried to fight it.
Taehyung tells them how he feels worthless and paranoid- not good enough for his ex and now terrified of ever trusting again. He tells them how he wants to stay away from dating for a while- focus on himself- and they agree. Seokjin and Yoongi do their best to console and reassure him, building him back up, tiny piece by tiny piece. They let him take Yoongi's room, and soon after they go through the ice cream and skittles, Taehyung's tucked into Yoongi's bed, sound asleep.
"...Are you okay?" Seokjin whispers to Yoongi when they curl up in the elder's room for the night. Yoongi stiffens, but he turns around to face the other.
"I'm not the one you should be worried about, hyung." Yoongi whispers into the space between them. Seokjin shuffles closer, until Yoongi's toes press against his shins.
"I always worry about you, Yoongi-chi." Seokjin smiles sadly. "And I know it's not easy for you when..."
Yoongi sighs, relaxing into the mattress. He lets himself be vulnerable. "I don't want Taehyung to experience that. Not anyone, but especially not him. He gives his everything to everyone, hyung. He's beautiful and wonderful, and for that douche to turn around and-" Yoongi cuts himself off sharply. "I hate it, hyung. I hate that Tae's doubting himself."
Seokjin hums. "I understand, Yoongi-yah. Let's try to be there for him as much as possible, okay?"
Yoongi nods and swallows the emotion building at the back of his throat. Infidelity disgusts him down to the bones, and for one of his closest friends to be hurt by it, Yoongi feels nauseous. He could cry.
"Now. Tell me what really happened at the store." Seokjin grins.
"Nothing happened," Yoongi stutters at the sudden demand.
"Your blush says otherwise, Yoon-gi-chi," Seokjin teases, dragging out the syllables.
Yoongi bites his lip. He's tired, and he knows Seokjin will keep bothering him about it until he spills.
"There was this boy, and I tripped over his leg, and he... had all the skittles."
"All the skittles?" Seokjin repeats and laughs softly.
"All of them, the whole box. I told him the world would explode if he didn't hand them over." Yoongi's blush deepens. It sounds ridiculous now.
Seokjin's laughing loudly, more of a cackle. "My, my Yoongi-yah. You were flirting with a stranger in the convenience store? How unlike you!"
"I was not flirting! He's the one who put his-" Yoongi sucks in a breath, pressing his lips together.
"Yoongi!" Seokjin slaps the younger's shoulder, scandalized. "He put his what, where?"
Yoongi gapes, hand shooting forward to pinch Seokjin on the side. The elder squeals and uses the hand he still has on Yoongi's shoulder to shake the younger around.
"His number in my phone, you pervert," Yoongi pouts.
Seokjin laughs like a seal, wiggling against the pillows. "Yoongi-chi! I'm so proud! You got a cute boy's number all on your own!"
"You're the worst," Yoongi whines, kicking against Seokjin's shins. "You don't even know if he's cute."
"I do know he is, since you still have his number in your phone." Seokjin giggles evilly.
"You have no proof," Yoongi grinds out.
Suddenly, Seokjin lurches forward, reaching behind Yoongi, grabbing the younger's phone from the nightstand. They struggle against each other, until Seokjin laughs triumphantly.
"Oh! Jungkookie, huh? And a bunny?"
"He looks like a rabbit when he smiles." Yoongi explains before cursing himself for letting the words slip. Seokjin's grin is absolutely devious, before it slips into something softer.
"Are you-"
"No," Yoongi interrupts sharply. "Don't get any ideas, hyung. I don't even know him."
Seokjin bites his lip. "You could get to know him. You have his number, and-"
"He knew my name, hyung." That shuts Seokjin up.
"Oh..."
"Yeah," Yoongi scoffs. "Probably just wants to mess with me, see if he can get in my head," Yoongi mumbles into the pillow.
Yoongi doesn't know how he ended up with the reputation that he has within the university. Yeah, he can be distant- and a little snappy in the morning when he hasn't had coffee- but he's never done anything to warrant people thinking he's in a gang. He never organized a fight club in one of the unused chemistry labs. He's never even been in a fight. And Yoongi also never vandalized the campus police building or set up a piercing station in the back of the library. The only piercings he has are on his ears, and he got those done in high school at the mall, in a too-pink store catered for girls. They were free, okay?
(As long as you purchased a starter kit and earrings. Yoongi never wore those lilac butterfly studs, never. No matter what Namjoon says.)
Seokjin hates it. They all do- Seokjin, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung. They hate the rumors and whispers that follow Yoongi when he's walking on campus. Hate when people mess with Yoongi because of stupid bets and dares. They'll take turns walking him to class, most days- always lingering nearby, just in case. Yoongi acts like it annoys him, but really, he loves their overprotectiveness. Loves that they care so much.
"...Do you want me to delete his number?" Seokjin's completely serious now, thumb already hovering over the delete button.
Yoongi shakes his head. "He called himself, so he has my number anyways. There's no point. It just makes it easier to know who's bothering me this time."
Seokjin hesitates for second, but nods and places Yoongi's phone down on the pillow above them, and snuggles into the bed. He doesn't push any further. Yoongi appreciates it.
"Goodnight, Yoongi-yah..." Seokjin hums, asleep within seconds.
"Goodnight, hyung," Yoongi whispers, eyes wide open. Sleep doesn't come easy that night. It never does.
•
There was a time where Yoongi was happy- unreserved and unafraid- like what most children start off as. His life revolved around piano and toys and the latest superhero movie. He liked to color and play outside with his friends. Yoongi was like other kids.
It changed, he changed- everything changed- the summer after his ninth birthday. Yoongi's after school piano lesson had been cancelled last minute- something about his teacher's dog needing to see the vet. So Yoongi walked home almost two hours earlier than usual.
(Thinking back, Yoongi can remember that walk- the shining sun, the singing birds, the skip in his step. He can remember the last few moments before he felt lost in his own home.)
It wasn't unusual for his father to be home at that time. It was unusual for his mother.
Yoongi had stood, frozen at the top of the stairs. Moans and grunts were coming from his parent's room around the corner. An unmeasurable amount of time had passed, and the moans had died down to occasional giggles. He could hear a door opening and footsteps walking closer, but he couldn't move. There was a scream, and Yoongi flinched, backing away, nearly falling down the stairs, because that woman was not his mom.
The expression on his father's face remains imprinted in Yoongi's memory, too. The way it hardened from its shocked stare, all emotion seeping from his face until nothing but intimidation remained. That time, after the woman had left, Yoongi's father had grabbed him for the first time, grip too tight, shaking him around, yelling, threatening. Yoongi didn't understand. He was confused and scared.
("If I hear you breathe a word about this to anyone- better yet, don't speak at all.")
Things changed, after that day. It seemed his father had two options for keeping his secret: lock Yoongi up, or send him away. One being much more reasonable than the other. Yoongi wasn't allowed to go play with his friends- he was barely allowed to leave the house at all, as if his father were afraid Yoongi would spill to the first person he came in contact with. It was a miracle his father hadn't cancelled his piano lessons. Music was Yoongi's outlet. He'd be dead without it.
His father stopped hiding his lecherous tendencies around Yoongi. It didn't matter if Yoongi was home- there'd be a woman in his parent's bed if his mother was gone. The women would talk to him on their way out, sneering, calling him "poor child." Once, when he was twelve, he snapped, using the new word he learned from the older boys at school.
"I might be a poor child, but at least I'm not a wrinkly whore," he spat.
The woman's face, the genuine shock and almost hurt in her eyes, gave him satisfaction- sharp and deep. It was short-lived, though. That afternoon was the first time Yoongi's father had hit him more than twice, had actually knocked him to the ground and beat him.
Yoongi's hyung didn't know about it, always being gone in the evenings, whether for soccer practice or playing video games at a friend's house. He was allowed out of the house. Yoongi envied him- maybe hated him a little. Or maybe his older brother did know. Maybe that was why he was always gone. Yoongi couldn't find out- terrified of being caught, of the chance his brother might not have known, of what telling him would result in.
As for his mother, she was the bread winner of the family. She earned the majority of the family's money, and was often gone for days on end due to business trips. This was why his father stuck around- he rarely had to work. Plus, it made it easy for him to sneak around, but harder for Yoongi to just...live. When she was home, his father acted so loving, so doting, whispering sweet words to her while she giggled. It made him sick.
Yoongi wanted to slam his hands on the table and shout, "He's fucking other women in your bed!" But he held his tongue, his father shooting him warning glares when his mother and brother weren't looking. The bruises on his side pulsed, and he seethed, not allowed to say anything, too damn scared to say anything.
Time dragged on so slowly. Yoongi wanted to be anywhere but at that house. Along the years, he lost his friends (except one), lost his childish, vibrant love for life. He withdrew into himself, hiding behind a standoffish, cold attitude. The constant pressure of his father, physically and mentally. The weight of tiptoeing around his mother, hiding his father's dirty secret. Her constant questions of 'what happened to you?' and 'why are you like this?' The indifference of his brother, his ignorance that left Yoongi feeling so alone. The constant war with himself, pushing and pulling, yelling 'say something' and 'stay silent' all at once, over and over.
It's after seven years- when he's fifteen- that he loses it.
His father was yelling at him about his grades. His mother sat at the table with her head in her hands, muttering, wondering where she went wrong. His brother wasn't home, was away at university- absent, as usual.
Yoongi was struggling to control his breathing, panic and rage storming inside him, twisting his stomach and constricting his lungs.
"After all we do for you-" His father had yelled.
It was too much.
"You do nothing for me," Yoongi hissed.
"What?" His mother balked.
"Excuse me?"
Yoongi glared up at his father, enjoying the curl of his lip and the vague panic in his eyes- like he knew Yoongi had enough.
"You do nothing but torment me, make me suffer."
His mother looked angry before switching to confusion, and then dread, glancing between her son and her husband's shaking fists. "Yoongi...-"
She cuts off with a gasp when Yoongi raises his shirt, revealing aged, yellow bruises and fresh, purple ones.
"He's been sleeping with other women since I was nine, probably even longer, and he beat me into staying quiet about it. But now I'm done."
Yoongi turned to his mother, took in her pained face, and it hurt. "I'm sorry, Mama."
He sprinted to his room, shoving everything he could into his backpack, and ducking into his closet, grabbing an already packed gym bag. He walked out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him, ignoring the yells and cries coming from the kitchen. His brother was already in college, and his mother had a good job. She could support herself. They'd be fine.
He ran to Namjoon's, and hadn't been home since, had only seen his father once since. He still talks to his mother and to his brother, but they're not close, not really. Yoongi tries not to think of them for too long.
It makes his chest ache.
•
When Yoongi wakes up, Seokjin is gone. He can hear voices ringing throughout the apartment. Someone laughs, then chokes. More laughter follows. Yoongi rolls onto his back and gazes at the ceiling. A harsh line of light lays along it, cutting across the room. His body is tense, and his heart hurts.
Must've been a bad dream...
Yoongi doesn't feel scared. Just... sad. In desperate need of cuddles. And he knows just the person- someone who could use a good cuddle as well.
With that, Yoongi rolls onto his stomach, scootching backwards off the bed, toes stretching until they touch the carpet. He heaves himself up and stumbles out the bedroom. Seokjin stands in front of the stove, mixing a batch of pancake batter. Namjoon- when did he get there?- stands with him, attempting to flip a pancake. It flies up, across the kitchen, landing on the sink. Yoongi snorts.
"Oh, hey, Yoongi." Namjoon looks up, grinning sheepishly.
"Morning, Namjoon," Yoongi drawls. "I see you're working hard to make breakfast."
"I told him to just sit with Tae. Begged him, really, but he didn't listen," Seokjin huffs, snatching the spatula away from Namjoon. "Seriously, get out. It'll take way too long if I only get to make one pancake for every five you demolish."
Namjoon chuckles ruefully. "So mean, hyung. I was just trying to help. No need to flip out on me."
Seokjin tries not to laugh, he really does. Yoongi just shakes his head. He turns to the living room and makes his way to Taehyung, who's built a tent out of pillows and blankets in front of the t.v., laying sprawled out on his stomach. An older episode of Running Man plays on the screen.
"Permission to enter, Commander?" Yoongi salutes, squatting next to the opening of the tent.
Taehyung's eyes snap over to him, surprised, before he grins. "How do I know you're not an enemy spy?"
"I hold top secret information regarding the enemy's secret weapon. Let me in and I'll tell you," Yoongi whispers conspiratorially. Taehyung giggles and nods.
"Tempting. Permission granted, soldier."
Yoongi crawls in and sprawls across Taehyung's back. The younger wheezes dramatically. Yoongi flicks the back of his head.
"Now, about that secret weapon," Taehyung starts. Yoongi nods solemnly.
"It's highly dangerous. The world could be in danger." Taehyung wiggles around underneath him.
"Tell me, tell me!"
Yoongi whines, struggling to get comfortable with Taehyung's constant movement. "Okay! Stop moving."
Taehyung stills and Yoongi leans forward as if to whisper in Taehyung's ear, but intentionally speaking loud enough for the other two to hear. "The enemy's top secret weapon that could end cities, countries- no! That could destroy worlds..."
"What is it, what is it?"
"The ancient, terrifying...God of Destruction, Kim Namjoon! Run for you lives!" Yoongi digs his fingers into Taehyung's sides. The younger squeals and dislodges Yoongi from his back, rolling around while faux-screaming.
Seokjin's laugh is obnoxiously loud. "I'm so happy I got that on video," he wheezes past his laughter. Yoongi jerks around to see Seokjin's phone pull away from a hole in the back of the tent. "I'm sending it to Hobi, right now."
Namjoon tries to pout, but ends up giggling as well. "Send it in the group chat, I want it, too. It's not everyday that Yoongi-hyung acts so cute."
Yoongi frowns, scooting closer to Taehyung as he finally settles back down. "What are you talking about? My entire existence is the fucking epitome of cuteness."
"Sure," Namjoon laughs.
"What the heck? I'm naturally cute, right?" Yoongi turns to Taehyung, who gives him a boxy grin.
"Yeah, hyung. Effortlessly cute." Taehyung's smile sombers into something tired, but happy. "Thanks for cheering me up, Yoongi-hyung."
A wave of emotion crashes over Yoongi. He swallows it back. "Of course, Tae. Always."
Taehyung's eyes water and Yoongi flounders, hands fluttering over him.
"I'm sorry," the younger laughs wetly. "It's just- you guys are the best. I love you."
"We love you, too, Taehyung-ah." Seokjin's voice sounds from outside the tent, warm and happy. "Now, come on. Pancakes are ready."
Taehyung's face lights up, and he shoots out of the tent. Yoongi follows lethargically. They get settled, eating in comfortable silence, until Hoseok FaceTimes them on Namjoon's phone, gushing about the video of Yoongi and Taehyung before telling them funny occurrences from his dance retreat. Their combined laughter fills the room, and Yoongi's heart feels so full, and this is it, he thinks.
This is home.