Chapter Text
Saturday 5:26pm: Media Lab
“Just open up this app and click on your name to clock in and out of work.” The manager says, showing an example of the process.
Taehyung nods diligently, his dark ashy locks flopping about, and adds another mental note to his list of work duties.
“And that’s it! I told you the work hours right? 5 to 11.”
“Yup!” Taehyung responds.
“Great. I’ll email you the work schedule by tomorrow.” She says, walking out of the rental office.
He watches her walk across the hall and into the staff room and sits on the high office chair taking a breather, mind jumbled from taking in all that information.
Spinning around on the high rolly chair a few times, he takes in his surroundings before scooting up to the desk to move the penholder and colorful post-it note stacks off to the side to make room for his things.
He pulls out his MacBook and sketchbook and proceeds to open up his photo files.
As he waits for Lightroom to load, he checks the security feed of each lab room that is meant to be used to keep an eye out for clumsy students who try to sneak coffee and drinks in.
Briefly sweeping his eyes across the screen, he sees how many people are currently in the lab and realizes that there aren’t many here since it’s the weekend. There are only two or three people, at most, in each computer room and the sound studios are nearly empty, save for one.
He’s thankful for a slow first day so he can work on editing his RAWs.
Stretching, he finally focuses and gets started on the material for his assignment.
Time passes quickly and Taehyung eventually memorizes the faces of the few people who walk in and out of the lab for coffee and cigarette breaks.
It nears 11:00 pm and Tae realizes he really hasn’t done much all day, job-wise, except help a student rent out a tablet.
He saves his progress on the project and closes his MacBook.
He shoves his sketchbook and pens in his bag, zipping it up and slipping it on his back as it strikes 11.
He scans the screen one last time to see that the lab is nearly empty with only one or two stragglers left.
Squinting his eyes at the last feed, he sees that the room is almost completely dark except for the desktop monitor that illuminates the silhouette of a sleeping person.
‘Sound Studio 3,’ it says on the top right-hand corner. That person has been sleeping for my entire shift.
He closes the security feed window and proceeds clocks out.
Grabbing his laptop, he switches off the lights to the office and walks all the way down the hall to the studio section to find studio 3.
He arrives in front of the locked, glass door and tries to look through the slivers of space between the closed blinds to no avail and swipes his ID with a small beep, opening the door gingerly.
He has a finger on the light switch before deciding last moment to leave the lights off and walks into the dark room quietly, setting his stuff down on the long coffee table set in the center of the room.
He tiptoes over to the sleeping person, unable to see who it was under the hood covering their face.
Tae carefully hooks his finger under the edge of the hood and lifts it up to reveal the face of a pale man with a shock of bright blue hair.
Holy hell.
He knew exactly who this was.
Well, technically he knew who this was.
Min Yoongi.
At this point, Taehyung is more than mildly alarmed. Despite the peacefully slumbering image he had now, the man had a Reputation. With a capital R.
Therefore, considering the man’s Reputation, Tae wants to grab his stuff and book it.
But he’s also worried for the man’s health.
Mr. Music Genius looks quite deathly pale.
Biting his lip nervously, he reaches out to feel the other's forehead, slipping a hand under his messy, blue fringe and feels that it's actually quite warm. Too warm.
For starters, he knows that it's definitely a fever so he exits the room and jogs down to the staff room, rummaging through the first aid kit.
He finds a variety of cold medicines and decides to just grab one of each.
On his way out, he sees a fluffy lounge throw rumpled on the couch and grabs it, shoving the medicine in his pocket and balling up the blanket in his arms.
He jogs back to the dark studio and gently lays the thin, soft blanket over the sleeping man’s shoulders.
He then takes a seat next to Yoongi and empties his pockets of the medicine sachets onto the table along with a half empty water bottle he had in his backpack.
Taking a deep breath, he rubs his clammy hands on his thighs, mustering up the courage to wake the man up. Not expecting for a moment for the feverish man to wake up in a good mood.
Finally, Tae puts a hand on the elder’s shoulder, giving him a little shake, but the man doesn’t even flinch.
Uhhh. What the hell?
He tries again, a little harder this time but doesn’t get any response.
Now, he's worried.
He sticks his forefinger under the unresponsive man’s nose to feel his breathing. As far as he can tell the man seems okay but he pulls out his phone and calls Seokjin anyways.
As the caller rings, Taehyung gets up and walks to the far corner of the room, waiting for his hyung to answer.
“Whats up Tae,” Jin greets.
“I think someone is sick and I tried to wake him up but he won't budge. I don’t know if he’s okay.” Taehyung says in a rushed whisper. He nibbles on his thumb in nervous habit and looks back at Yoongi.
“Did you check his temperature? How is it?” Jin inquires, tone turning purely professional, all playfulness gone.
“He doesn’t seem to have a high fever. Just a little warm?” He replies.
“How different do the symptoms look from a common cold?”
Taehyung thinks for a moment, going over what he observed about the man.
Fever, deathly pale, pretty, not responding. Wait. No.
“Uhh. The signs look the same. He doesn’t have a cold sweat or ashy lips. He does look kind of a lot pale though. Like I don't know. He could be a vampire.”
At this point, Taehyung has his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, crouched in front of the low table, as he opens up his laptop and pulls up a web browser to look up symptoms on WebMD.
“Alright. Good. No cold sweats is good. How’s his breathing?” Jin quips.
“I checked it just like you taught me and it seems fine. Slow, steady, and long just like it should be when asleep. But the problem is that he won’t wake up. I don’t understand.” Tae says, looking over his shoulder to the slumbering man.
“Maybe he’s just tired? How well do you know this guy? Do you know if he got enough sleep last night? It sounds like a combination of a cold and not enough sleep.” Jin replies, sounding significantly less worried after realizing it's nothing serious.
Taehyung stands up and walks over to the elder once again. He sits down and scoots closer to his face, making out the dark bruiselike rings under his eyes in the dim light.
“He does have some dark circles.” Tae replies, staring at the man’s sleeping face.
“Maybe-“
“You should shut the fuck up” A voice butts in.
Tae freaks out and shifts back in a fumble, staring wide-eyed at the man, who begins to lift his head, blue hair shifting.
"He does have some dark circles." He hears a deep, quiet voice speak next to his ear. What in the fuck.
"Maybe-"
"You should shut the fuck up." Yoongi finishes his sentence, too grumpy and tired to deal with whatever this was.
Yoongi slowly blinks his eyes open and barely lifts his head, coming face to face with a tan boy staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
“He woke up bye hyung.” The boy mumbles in a hurried baritone voice, apparently snapping out of it and breaking eye contact.
Yoongi squints his eyes, unaccustomed to the light coming from the moniter's screen, and sees the boy’s cheeks glow in flusterment.
He finally comes to and realizes that there’s a blanket over him and a small pile of medicine packets piled up on the desk in front of his face.
He looks back to the boy and drops his head back down on his neckpillow, not looking quite as menacing as he could be with his cheek squished into his eye.
“Why are you here being loud while I'm trying to sleep?” he asks, trying again this time and being as nice as he could possibly be after being rudely woken up.
The boy startles at his question and looks back at him sheepishly.
“Ah. Sorry. I was working the evening shift in the office and you haven’t moved all day. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or something.” He tries to explain, spitting his words rapidly and eyes darting around to look anywhere but at Yoongi.
Yoongi simply stares at the other, who visibly grows increasingly nervous.
“You have a fever. Medicine.” The stranger states, pointing to the small pile of medicine and pushing a half empty water bottle his way.
He then darts up from his seat, the chair turning at the force, and hurries out of the room, MacBook clutched to his chest and backpack haphazardly thrown over one shoulder.
Yoongi just blinks, still slow at processing after a long nap. Wait. What the hell just happened.
As he comes to, Yoongi realizes that he can physically feel his fever. The room is most definitely warm but he feels chilled to the boned and his mouth is dry and cottony.
He picks a random packet of medicine and rips it open, swallowing back the pills with the water.
Clutching onto the hems of the fluffy blanket around his shoulders, he slouches into the back of the comfortable desk chair, still drowsy and sleep deprived.
He sits there yawning, trying to blink away the fatigue weighing down on his eyelids as he checks his phone for notifications and messages.
He sees the timestamp as he sends Namjoon a reply and decides it's time to head home and get some sleep in an actual bed.
Stretching with a groan, Yoongi sits up and begins to pack up his things.
He folds up the blanket that was keeping him warm and tucks it under his arm, unsure what to do with it.
He turns off the monitor of the studio desktop and walks out, heading down the hallway. He turns at the corner of the dimly lit hallway, walking past dark, empty studio rooms.
He spots a few lit rooms in the computer lab area and looks through the glass doors as he passes by to see a couple students still busy with work.
As he passes the last room, Yoongi catches a glimpse of the boy from just a moment ago, turned away from the door and working on a project probably.
He pauses his footsteps and stands there, ID card in hand, contemplating whether or not he really wanted to walk in and talk to the boy who woke him up, freaked out, then ran away.
But he didn't want to carry this blanket all the way home.
Also, Yoongi isn’t a complete asshole.
He should probably say thanks.
Sighing, he slaps his ID over the reader and the door unlocks with a small beep. The sharp click of the door opening makes the boy whip his head around to see who it is, eyes going wide once again.
He just watches in silent surprise as Yoongi walks into the room and approaches him.
“Are you okay Yoongi sunbae-nim?” He asks, seeming to have collected himself.
Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, taken aback at the fact that the boy knows his name because he definitely doesn’t know him.
“Um yeah. I was going to leave but I didn’t know what to do with this blanket.” Yoongi replies, plopping the folded blanket down on the desk next to the boy’s things.
The other nods and places a hand over the fluffy throw.
“Thanks for returning it. It's actually the staff room blanket.” The other replies, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.
“I didn’t know how to ask for it back from you to be honest,” He continues, smile turning into a grin.
Yoongi just stares. Have I seen this kid around before?
“Oh. Sorry! Am I holding you? You should go home and rest sunbae-nim.” The younger says, getting up to bow. Before he realizes his own lack of response, the other is already saying bye.
Yoongi, being a bit uncomfortable with the excessive formality, just nods and mumbles a goodbye. He heads for the door and the boy sits back down on his rolly chair.
He cracks the door open and has one foot out the door before he remembers. Oh yeah. I have to say thanks. Or something.
“What’s your name kid?” he asks abruptly, turning to look back at the boy.
The younger lifts his head and turns to look at Yoongi.
“Oh! I haven’t even introduced myself. Rude. I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.” The boy chirps back, beaming at him with a cheeky, boxy grin.
Yoongi just nods and turns to head out the door.
“Thanks Taehyung.” He says just as the door shuts behind him.
He probably heard me. Yoongi thinks as he walks out the media lab and presses the down button on the elevator panel.
Taehyung watches the man walk down the hall and out of view, unsure if he heard that correctly. Did he just say thanks?
He slowly turns back to the laptop screen, continuing his work, except now the things he had heard about Min Yoongi were running around his head, distracting him.
The blue-haired man definitely wasn’t as rude as people portrayed him to be.
A little stoic, perhaps, with a dash of potty-mouth (though he's not one to talk). But polite enough to say thank you and fold the borrowed blanket all nicely.
Yoongi sits at the back of the bus looking out the window, sounds of the loud, rumbling engine replaced with the music from his earphones.
He vacantly watches cars fly by and somehow ends up unconsciously thinking back to the jumpy yet cheery boy who had fussed over him and his cold.
I definitely haven't seen him around before. Yoongi thinks.
I would've remembered.