Chapter Text
The first thing Jimin noticed about the room was that it was cold. He glanced around the bare walls for a thermostat, but found nothing. What was present instead was a dorm room divided into three strange sections, a bed situated in each as though the shape of the walls might offer privacy. Nice try, Jimin thought to himself. The two beds on either side of the middle one looked like bunk beds, except they were missing the bottom bunk, and in their place sat a desk complete with drawers, a chair and a lamp hanging from the bottom of the top bunk. It was a neat set up with wardrobes in place of the closets the small living area lacked, too bad for Jimin both those bunks were apparently taken, suitcases piled beneath both indicative of that. One bed had a pile of what appeared to be a large black fleece blanket and it looked like a cat had just crawled out of it? The other bed had what looked like a large purse, but completely clear and filled with accessories and snacks hanging off the edge of it.
The bed in the middle was just that - a bed with a metal framed desk that looked like it had been pulled straight from a 1940’s classroom complete with cobwebs, rust and all. The bed did look a bit bigger than the bunks, but it's set up between the two bunks offered little privacy, the wardrobe on the wall next it, a small amount of space to store his belongings. Luckily he hadn’t brought much.
He pulled the strap of his backpack back into position over his shoulder, just under the edge of his big grey scarf that contained nearly half his face, keeping the warm breath from his nose close to his face and neck. There was no use thinking about it. This was his bed, his room, his home now. He could only cross his fingers and hope that his his roommates were decent people despite the fact that they had claimed the two good beds before he’d arrived.
Jimin approached his new bed and set his duffel bag down on the edge. His backpack followed, then his skates. He smoothed over the sheets with his hand, frowning as he felt the starchiness of them. He supposed he should count himself lucky that they even had sheets. This certainly wasn’t a hotel, afterall. No one would be taking care of him or cleaning up after him, not that he’d had anyone do any of that in a long time. He hoped his roommates understood the concept as well. He’d been dreading the thought of a messy roommate, only to walk into the dorm downstairs to find that he was in only one of two three-person rooms. So now he was forced to accept the odds of not only one messy roommate, but two.
Jimin sighed and seated himself on the bed. There was no use worrying about it now; none of it was within his control.
The bed wasn’t awful, which was actually a surprise given the sad appearance of it. It would need new sheets, a blanket and some pillows, but it could have been worse. Maybe with enough pillows and plushies it could start to feel like home. With that though, he reached for his duffel bag, unzipped it and pulled out his yellow dog plushie.
“It’s just you and me now, Chimmy,” he said to the plushie, it’s flat grin and outstretched tongue ever unchanging as he stared back at Jimin. “Well, you and me and these other guys,” he glanced around the room.
Jimin planted a small kiss on Chimmy’s head and set him at the head of the bed, massaging the spot on his shoulder where his backpack had dug in. He knew he should probably think about unpacking some of his things, but the fact that it was only going to take a few minutes felt a bit depressing. Besides, he was itching for a skate. He’d spent all day on a train, cooped up in a small seat staring at his phone. His limbs were aching to be stretched properly.
Well, finding the campus rink was probably a good first adventure.
Jimin pulled his black face mask from his pocket, stretched the straps over his ears and pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Later, Chimmy,” he said, nodding to his toy. He turned on his heel and headed out of the room, locking the door behind him.
The common area was empty, but there were shoes littering the area so Jimin had to assume others had moved in. A small kitchen with a fridge and a washer and dryer sat just to the side of a living room type space with a couple of couches and an older looking flat screen TV. The room had plenty of windows that lit the carpeted room well and allowed for a cool but homey feel. Jimin wondered how much time he’d be spending here as it would likely depend on whether or not he liked his housemates. The area was shared between Jimin’s room of three and two other rooms. Additionally, all three rooms shared a bathroom that Jimin had peeked into earlier. Two shower stalls was going to be interesting between however many people occupied the space.
The rink was about a ten minute walk from the dorm and the building also housed a swimming pool complete with sauna and hot tub, a weight room and a gymnasium. The building was nearly deserted save for a secretary seated behind the desk flipping through a magazine. She didn’t look up when Jimin approached.
“Um, hi,” Jimin said, hoping to get her attention.
She looked up, but didn’t speak.
“Can I use the ice?” He asked, gesturing to his skates slung over his shoulder.
“Scan your student card?” She nodded to the scanner on the edge of the desk.
“Oh, I don’t have one yet.”
She shrugged. “Whatever, go ahead.”
“Thank you,” He said, pressing his palms together and bowing slightly, but she was already absorbed back into her magazine.
The second he pushed open the door he was greeted by the familiar blast of cold air and the smell of artificial ice. While Jimin typically hated the cold, he loved this feeling and any anxieties he might have been feeling about his roommates and his dorm and you know, leaving home for the first time to attend university, evaporated in that instant. He circled the ice, passing the stands as he stared up at the banners that hung at the end of the rink next to the Korean flag. It looked like the school’s hockey team had been good once, but any evidence of that disappeared in 2007 when they’d apparently won their last banner. He wondered how much the team practiced and how often he’d be forced to share the ice.
While Jimin was familiar enough with hockey players, having spent most of his life around the ice, he strongly disliked them. Based on his experiences, they were rude, they spat a lot and they smelled awful. Sure everyone sweats when they’re performing physical activity but damn have you heard of soap? Febreeze? Anti-odor anything ? It definitely wasn’t something hockey players took into consideration, instead colonizing the arena’s dressing rooms with the filth and mold.
Jimin shuddered as he climbed onto the bench, already smelling the distinct smell of sweaty hockey player despite the fact that he was completely alone. The arena echoed as he dropped his skates and began to pull his shoes off. Tying his skates was as natural as breathing. He’d done it perhaps ten thousand times, his fingers callused slightly where his laces tightened against the creases of his hands.
Stepping onto the ice was like a breath of fresh air. It was accentuated by the fact that the ice was perfect. It was like first thing in the morning ice, Jimin’s favourite. The ice was typically cleaned after the last skaters got off of it, then it had all night to freeze up nicely leaving no puddles and a perfectly sleek surface. Clearly no one had been on here in the last several hours, if at all today. He pulled his glasses off and dropped them on the edge of the boards, shoved his headphones in his ears and let himself go.
The rink was cold and Jimin rubbed his hands against his arms. Every rink was different, and this one was a bit colder than he was used to. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that the place was empty. Surely it would be warmer if there were other people around. But he liked it this way, empty and all to himself. A few laps and his blood was pumping properly and his muscles began to stretch and warm up. He took a couple of easy jumps as his music sped up to test out the ice. It felt good, solid. If the cold was good for one thing, it was keeping the ice in better shape. This was important especially if he was going to be sharing it with freaking hockey players. But right now, it belonged to him. He closed his eyes and let his body go, turning his mind off completely. His body knew the rink better than his brain and while it was obviously smarter to open his eyes while he was jumping, he needed no such thing while just skating.
Jimin felt free. On the ice he felt like he could do anything. He picked up speed, preparing for another jump when-
SMACK
Ok, so that stansion was out of place?
And it was laughing at him? He questioned as his earbud fell out.
He opened his eyes and whipped around to find himself face to face with a boy. A hockey boy- dressed from head to toe in gear. And there wasn’t just one of them. There were three. And this one was laughing at him. Clearly he hadn’t fallen when the’d collided with Jimin. Or had he intentionally hit him?
“What the fuck?!” Jimin demanded, slapping the ice with his hand. He was used to falling, he didn’t care about that part. But the fact that this guy had showed up out of nowhere and run into him? Rude!
“You lost? Little skater?” The boy laughed. “Sorry, your eyes were closed. I thought you were sleep skating or something. I’m impressed you didn’t hit he boards.”
“So what? You hit me instead?” Jimin demanded as he pulled himself to his feet and brushed the ice off his pants.
“Had to wake you up somehow,” the boy laughed, his friend joining in.
Jimin couldn’t make out much of the boy. Now that he was standing he could tell that the boy was a bit taller than Jimin but his features were very bold. From what he could tell between his lack of corrective lenses and the boy’s helmet, he had huge dark eyes and a wide smile that almost reminded Jimin of a rabbit. His eyes nearly disappeared into his cheeks as he laughed with his friend who had turned to skate off.
“Come on Kook,” the other boy said.
Kook, Jimin thought to himself, what a dumb name.
“I wasn’t done with the ice!” Jimin shouted as the boy, Kook, turned away. There was a goalie on the ice as well. He was skating around the ice humming to himself looking as far from a hockey player as Jimin could a imagine.
He can stay, Jimin thought to himself.
“Sorry, I missed the part where you owned the place,” Kook shouted as he skated away.
“Fine!” Jimin shouted, “just stay out of my way!”
“Keep your eyes open, fairy boy,” Kook laughed.
Jimin grunted angrily and skated away. So much for a relaxing skate.
He tried to get back into his groove but his eyes kept being drawn across the ice. The three boys had confined themselves behind one blueline, the skaters passing back and forth and taking shots at the goalie. Jimin couldn’t make out what the goalie was saying, but he was certainly a loud one. It was one thing sharing the ice with other skaters, but sharing with hockey players was weird. He’d done it seldomly in his youth, but it had been a long time. It was more often one group waiting for the other to finish before they took to the ice. He really hoped this wasn’t going to become a regular thing.
Not paying attention to what he was doing, Jimin caught an edge and bailed, landing hard on his butt. He really hoped no one saw that, unfortunately an already familiar shrill of laughter echoed through the rink.
This. Was. Bullshit.
Jimin pulled himself up and skated it off, forcing himself to land the move three times before he let it go. He planted both earbuds back in his ears and did his best to ignore the fact that he had company. That was until a puck flew by him. Jimin slammed on the brakes just in time for a flash of blue to fly by him. There was no way he’d say it out loud, but damn that Kook kid was a fast skater.
“Stay at your own end!” Jimin demanded.
“Why? Scared you’ll fall over again?”
“You smell like you just crawled out of compost bin,” Jimin said as he twisted his face.
“Sorry, I’m all out of fairy dust,” Kook said, sticking his tongue out as he skated away, puck on his stick. Jimin really wished he had a stick of his own in that moment. It was probably better that he didn’t.
A few more failed jumps and Jimin decided he’d had enough. He’d lost his focus and it was no longer relaxing. What he needed now was a hot shower and something to eat.
The wind and rain had picked up by the time Jimin left the arena making the ten minute walk back to his dorm feel that much longer and the rain on his glasses wasn’t helping. He almost took a wrong turn at one point, but managed to recognize a convenience store sign that he’d seen on the way there. As he walked by it, he realized he hadn’t brought any food with him. He ducked back into the store and picked up a few necessities. Instant noodles, a couple of protein bars and an extra large black coffee. His first though leaving the store was that he needed to find a better coffee source. Perhaps it was the fact that the coffee tasted like it had been sitting there most of the day, but regardless, it wasn’t good. Unfortunately it would have to do.
There were more shoes in the entryway and noise came from the opposite side of the building. He let himself through the side door and climbed the single flight of stairs where he found more shoes and more noise. A tall dark haired boy was in the kitchen, apparently cooking? His back was turned to Jimin and a pair of headphones deafened him to his surroundings. Not wanting to startle the boy (or socialize, for that matter), Jimin headed for his own room, keeping his bag of food with him. He’d figure out food after his shower.
“Hello!”
The voice came at him like a wave nearly knocking him off his feet as he entered his room. A bright eyed, red haired boy with a contagious smile was organizing his wardrobe on one side of the room.
“Hi,” Jimin said, blinking rapidly as his eyes moved from the boy to the rest of the room. The red head’s side was looking more lived in, clothes spread across the bed and the desk covered with small figures, notebooks and pens. A laptop sat open but the screen was blank. The other side of the room was just as Jimin had left it, the heap of black blankets still piled on top of the bunk.
“My name is Hoseok,” the boy said, moving toward Jimin.
“Jimin,” he told the boy who was now rapidly shaking his hand.
“Are you a skater?!” Hoseok’s eyes fell on Jimin’s skates.
Jimin glanced at them as well as if to confirm their existence. “Yeah,” he said, bracing himself for a response. It was his ingrained response after so many years of being teased for his sport of choice. But Hoseok was beaming, if possible, more than before.
“Me too!” Hoseok exclaimed excitedly. “Yoongi hyung is too! Hey Hyung!” Hoseok shouted at the bunk on the other side of the room as though he expected the pile of blankets to move.
To Jimin’s shock, it did.
“Hyung! Our roommate is a skater too!”
Jimin watched as the dark blankets shifted and from them popped a sleepy blonde with tired, unfocused eyes. His mouth hung open as his gaze shifted around the room, finally landing on Jimin and Hoseok. How long had he been there? Was he there the first time Jimin came in? His eyes narrowed in on Jimin who offered him a small smile.
“Hey,” he groaned, curling back into his blanket, his head now visible.
“Yoongi likes sleeping,” Hoseok laughed.
Who didn’t? Jimin thought to himself. He made his way back to his part of the room, dodging backpacks and suitcases as he went. He set his skates down and picked up Chimmy.
“He’s cute,” Hoseok smiled.
“Thanks,” Jimin said, feeling his face soften. He set Chimmy aside.
“I was just thinking about food,” Hoseok said, glancing up at Yoongi. “You guys hungry?”
Jimin glanced down at the plastic bag still in his hands containing his original dinner plans.
“What did you have in mind?” He asked.
“Something better than instant noodles,” Hoseok laughed.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I hadn’t got that far yet,” he grinned.
Jimin couldn’t help but smile. This boy’s energy and joy was infectious. He wasn’t sure about his second roommate just yet, but so far he liked Hoseok very much.
“Order?” Yoongi muttered from the top bunk.
“What were you thinking, hyung?” Hoseok asked.
Yoongi grumbled something and then shifted around a bit. Jimin jumped when an item came flying from the top bunk, but Hoseok moved quickly and caught it.
“Looks like hyung is treating!” Hoseok held up the item which Jimin now realized to be a black leather wallet.
Yoongi grumbled some more and shifted back into his blankets, his blonde hair disappearing from sight again.
“There’s a good take out place down the road that also does delivery. Do you like sushi?”
“Oh, you guys don’t have to,” Jimins said, raising his hands to insist.
There was more grunting from the top bunk.
“Hyung has spoken,” Hoseok laughed. “Sushi?”
Jimin looked up to the bunk and then back to Hoseok.
“We’re celebrating our new roommate!” Hoseok exclaimed as he threw his arms up in the air, a huge smile taking up a good portion of his face.
What was Jimin going to do? Say no?
“Woooo-ahh!” Hoseok cooed as he spread the food out on the small desk turned table. The 1940’s desk wasn’t going to serve much purpose as a desk, Jimin had decided, and he’d had every intention to shove it out into the hall and hope it would cease to exist. He’d always been the type to do his homework on his bed even if it was awful for his back. If he needed a desk he could go to the library or maybe even borrow Hoseok’s. He seemed like a sweet person, one that wouldn’t mind lending Jimin his space if he wasn’t using it.
“Hyung, come join us,” Hoseok said as he unpacked bowls of miso soup. “Or are you going to eat up there?”
Jimin pushed his bangs out of his eyes as Yoongi groaned from his bunk. His hair was too long. He’d meant to get it cut before he’d left home, cut and coloured for that matter, but he’d run out of time and his last day had been… unexpected. Well, not entirely unexpected but, undesirable.
A blonde head of hair caught Jimin’s eye just as his soup fogged up his glasses completely. He pushed them up onto his head to find Yoongi seeming to surface, eyes not even close to fully open.
Jimin wished he’d taken a shower. Not only because he felt completely unpresentable for a first meal with his new roommates, but because the small amount he’d sweat into the back of his cotton t-shirt had grown cold and he couldn’t feel himself shivering a bit.
“So Jimin-ssi, how old are you? Is this your first year?” Hoseok was sipping on his miso soup, not waiting for Yoongi who was now at least sitting up in his bed chewing on sleep in his mouth and rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah I’m first year. I’m turning 20 next month.”
“So I’m your hyung! Call me hyung!”
“Hyung?”
“Yes!” Hoseok exclaimed. “I’m 21, Yoongi is 22,” he nodded to Yoongi who was now making his way down the ladder. In contrast to his bleached blonde hair and his pale milky skin, he was dressed entirely in black. He wore long black sweatpants and a black long sleeve. As he landed softly at the bottom of the ladder, Jimin couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat with how light he was on his feet. There was something about his eyes too, the way they narrowed on you when he looked at you.
“Nice to meet you,” Jimin said, standing up to shake his hand. They were close to the same height and stature, but even groggy as he was, there was something powerful about Yoongi. Jimin wasn’t sure what it was, but it was definitely there.
“Mm,” Yoongi nodded, then moved to the table to pick up a cup of soup.
“Thanks for dinner, hyung,” Hoseok said, ruffling Yoongi’s hair.
Yoongi swatted his hand away and grunted at him, but Hoseok just laughed.
“You’re cute when you’re sleepy, hyung,” Hoseok laughed.
Yoongi didn’t respond, just sat on the edge of Jimin’s bed.
“So you guys are both skaters?” Jimin asked, still sipping his own soup. He didn’t want to touch the other food until the others dug in as well.
“Mm!” Hoseok exclaimed, mouth full of soup. “The skating team isn’t very big here, but we have a wicked coach!” Jimin was in fact aware of said coach.
“We share the ice with the hockey team, right?”
“Yeah, we both get designated ice times but otherwise it’s shared. They’re not too bad though for the most part. Have you been skating for a long time?”
“Since I was a little kid, though I took some time off recently…”
“Hang on,” Hoseok said, his chopsticks stopping in mid air. “What did you say your full name was?”
Jimin hadn’t. He hadn’t said it on purpose. The perplexed expression on Hoseok’s face told him that what he had thought might happen at some point was indeed about to happen. What was he going to do? Lie?
“Park Jimin.” It was going to come out sooner or later.
“Wait- THE Park Jimin? Junior National figure skater Park Jimin? Korea’s hopes for the World Junior title Park Jimin before he disappeared without a trace?” He’d dropped his food now and clearly hadn’t noticed, because he put his empty chopsticks to his lips anyway and was chewing as if there had been food there.
Jimin pressed his lips together, his eyes looking away.
“Hyung, do you have any idea who this is?!” Hoseok exclaimed excitedly.
Yoongi raised an eyebrow like he thought Hoseok was crazy, his mouth still full of food. He paused chew for a second, then shook his head and kept eating.
“Hyung doesn’t pay attention to the figure skating world. Holy shit… I thought you looked familiar… your hair is different now though and you look…”
“Out of shape? Like I’ve been through hell and back? Like overall crap?” Jimin offered to fill in the blanks for him.
“I was going to say older,” Hoseok said. “Your face has lost a lot of its roundness. Everyone used to call you-”
“Mochi,” Jimin said, not amused. He’d always hated the nickname.
“Wow,” Hoseok smiled despite Jimin’s frown. “I can’t believe I’m eating dinner, going to be sharing a room with Park Jimin. I’ve watched you and looked up to you for so long…”
“Isn’t he younger than you?” Yoongi asked, speaking properly for the first time since Jimin had been there. His voice was deeper than Jimin had initially noticed. He was so small and blonde and grumpy looking, but his voice was bold handsome.
“Yes, but he’s been skating longer than me,” Hoseok said.
“He’s also shorter than you, so I don’t see how you could look up to him,” Yoongi commented.
Hoseok slapped him. “Sorry, Jimin-shi, he thinks he’s funny.”
“Just Jimin, please,” Jimin said, his plea sounding more like he was begging.
“What happened to you? One minute you were on top of the world and the next… there were so many rumours.”
Jimin felt his appetite completely slip away. As if he needed to be reminded of the sobering thought. Sure everyone else’s entertainment had disappeared, but his life was essentially over in that moment. Everything he’d worked for, hoped for disappeared.
“I got hurt,” Jimin said.
“I thought that had to be the case. It was just so… so sudden.”
Sudden. That was how it was supposed to look. In reality the last thing it was was sudden. Years of pain and agony had built up over the years. It would take weeks to recover from the training behind competitions to the point that he could only attend so many. It had looked like he didn’t care, nor need to attend them all (he didn’t need to, but he’d always wanted to so so badly) when in reality his body was crumbling. It was supposed to hold out longer than it did. But it didn’t. There had been so many rumors, so many awful things said about him that had nothing to do with injury. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve it, but he supposed that was what he got for disappearing silently.
“Uhhh,” Yoongi was the one to break the silence, obviously sensing that Jimin was uncomfortable.
“But you’re here. You’re here and you have skates!” Hoseok said excitedly. “That must mean you’ve recovered.”
“Getting there,” Jimin said.
“I can’t wait to skate with you!”
“You’re such a fanboy,” Yoongi commented, shoving more rice into his mouth from his upturned bowl. Jimin reached for another dish.
“I am! Wait till you see him skate, you’ll understand!”
“Don’t hype me up too much please,” Jimin said, feeling a bit better, “I’ve only been back on the ice just under six months.”
“Nothing could kill your beauty and grace, Jimin. You can practice moves all you want, but you can’t teach talent like what you have.”
Jimin felt himself blushing. He hated this subject, but there was something about Hoseok that just felt positive, like no matter how far Jimin fell, Hoseok would be right there supporting him, cheering him on.
So far he counted his new roommates as a win.
That was until he went to take a shower.
Jimin didn’t like the idea of the shared bathroom between so many people. He supposed he should be grateful that there were two shower stalls and they both had curtains, but he still wasn’t fond of it. Maybe it would feel more comfortable once he got to know the other guys, but for now he felt a bid on edge as he stood under the hot water, waiting for it to ease his tired muscles and bring some warmth into his skin.
Jimin was finally beginning to relax as he rinsed his conditioner out of his hair, the silky strands easily sliding through his fingers, when the door opened. Jimin jumped, then questioned himself. He had a curtain, it wasn’t like this person was just going to open it up. His towel was pulled over the side, he was fine. The water turned on in the stall beside him and he sighed, strangely relieved.
And then the door opened again.
“HYUNG!” The voice yelled, “you were supposed to wait!”
Jimin stopped, hands still laced in his hair. He knew that voice. If he remembered correctly it belonged to…
“Sorry Kook, you snooze you lose!”
Fucking Kook. It had to be… right? It sounded like him. That stupid hockey player.
“Who else is in here? Namjoon hyung? Jin hyung?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” Kook’s friend said.
Jimin turned the water off, soap still clinging to his skin. He didn’t care. He had to know for sure. He ripped his towel down and wrapped it around his waist and pushed his glasses up his nose. He could feel the cold, but it was the least of his worries.
He took a deep breath and grabbed the curtain. If this was indeed the hockey player, he was about to get an earful.
But his breath caught in his throat as he swiftly yanked the curtain aside.
It was indeed, the boy from the rink. But this time he wasn’t fully clad in hockey gear. In fact, he wasn’t clad in anything. He was completely naked.
“Hey it’s you!” He exclaimed. “The fairy!”
Jimin was about to retort, but his eyes acted on their own and ran their way up and down the boy’s body. It was impressive to say the least.
Kook chuckled. “Like what you see? Want a picture? I’ll even sign it for you.”
The curtain beside Jimin pulled open revealing Kook’s friend. “Hey, it’s the skater!”
“Better,” Jimin said, “but my name is Jimin and if I had to guess,” Jimin turned back to Kook, “I think I’m probably older than you. Don’t you ever fucking call me that again. In fact, stay the hell out of my way. On and off the ice!”
“You got it, hyung,” Kook said, reaching for Jimin’s shoulder, running a hand along it and then flicking the water into Jimin’s face, splattering his glasses with water.
“I did NOT give you permission to call me that,” Jimin said. But Kook was just chuckling as he pushed passed Jimin, closing the shower curtain and turning on the water.
Jimin was fuming. He could feel his face turning bright red as he turned to the other boy.
“Hi, I’m Taehyung,” the boy waved before he turned back and closed his shower curtain.
“I also never said I was done!” Jimin shouted. But Kook was already singing, loudly.
Jimin groaned, deciding he didn’t want to be anywhere near these guys anyway. He could smell the hockey on them and he needed out.
Jimin stormed down the hall, towel barely clinging to his waist as he wrenched his bedroom door open. He knew he was red in the face, not to mention dripping wet but he didn’t care. He dared not risk getting kicked out of his dorm his first day there.
“You ok?”
Hoseok and Yoongi were both standing near their respective beds, obviously unpacking, each wearing a sheet mask and was dressed in pajamas. If Jimin hadn’t been so distracted, he might have noticed they were matching.
“What’s wrong?” Hoseok’s voice again.
“Hockey players,” Jimin seethed.
“Uh oh,” Yoongi said.
“Face mask?” Hoseok asked, holding up a blue face mask package.
“Soju?” Yoongi was in fact holding a green bottle of soju.
“Hyung, why are you like this?” Hoseok asked Yoongi, tone playful.
“Yes,” Jimin said, exasperated, “yes to both of those things! But first I need pants”
An article of clothing landed on the bed in front of him, just as he was about to reach for his suitcase. “Take these.” Jimin lifted the garment in his hand, examining it to find that it was a pair of black snoopy pajama pants. He glanced up in the direction they’d come from.
Hoseok shrugged. “Yoongi steals my clothes all the time. I have plenty. Besides, if you don’t get your pants on soon, I’m going to be doing all those shots he’s pouring.”
“The real reason he wants you to get dressed. He’s a lightweight,” Yoongi said, indeed, pouring shot glasses filled with soju.
Jimin quickly dropped his towel, facing away from the others awkwardly- they were sharing a room, he was going to have to get used to it- and pulled the pajamas on. He found them to be soft and warm and the gesture itself was nice, especially after the chaos in the bathroom.
“You’re not even going to let him get his mask on are you, nope, not even a shirt,” Hoseok muttered. Jimin turned and nearly knocked Yoongi over. He’d crept up on him so quietly he hadn’t even noticed. Remarkably, he managed to not spill a drop of alcohol.
“Priorities, Hobi,” Yoongi said, passing a shot to Jimin, then handing one to Hoseok who eyed it as though it were some kind of evil potion.
“Well, I guess cheers to new roommates,” Hoseok said, holding his shot up.
Yoongi picked up his own and cheersed. “Why plural? We only have one new roommate.”
“Fine, new roommate .”
Jimin threw his shot back, nearly spitting it out in laughter as Hoseok’s face twisted in disgust.
“WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!” Hoseok looked like he was going to puke. “FLAVOURED SOJU HYUNG, PLEASE!”
Jimin chuckled as he handed back the glass to Yoongi who looked completely unbothered by the shot.
“At least I have one roommate who doesn’t cry when I make him do shots.”
Hoseok shuddered as Yoongi took the glass back. “Min Yoongi you are pure evil.”
The shot didn’t affect him much, but it did feel warm going down as Jimin reached for a sweater. The dorm was a bit chilly, but hopefully nothing some warm clothes couldn’t combat. He’d been so worked up after the shower he hadn’t even had time to properly dry himself off.
“You guys were roommates before?” Jimin asked. He’d opened his bag and the others were unpacking so he decided he might as well do some of the same.
“Yep, it was just the two of us before though. We weren’t expecting to get a corner room.”
“Beer?” Yoongi asked, holding a can of beer out to Jimin.
“Is that a beer fridge?”
“Sure is,” Yoongi grinned as Jimin took the can from him. “Cider, Hobi?”
“You’re a terrible influence,” Hoseok said as he crossed the room, passing right by Yoongi who was holding out a can to him. “What kind of flavors do you have?”
“Terrible influence he says, as he goes rifling through my fridge.”
“Ooh! You’ve got cherry!”
Yoongi rolled his eyes as Jimin opened his beer and took a sip. “So only our room has three? The others have two?”
“Yep. Some hallways are longer and have more double rooms but only the end room has three. It kind of looks like they just shoved this one in here, don’t you think.”
“Kind of,” Jimin agreed, eyeing his pathetic excuse for a desk as he sipped on his beer. It was delicious and kind of like a treat. He had never really drank at home, only on occasion when he’d gone to a friend’s place or to a party.
“Here, want your mask?” Hoseok asked, handing him the package and taking the beer from him. “Need a hairband?”
“Sure,” Jimin said, pushing his glasses up onto his head and taking the red headband from Hoseok.
“That thing you did there,” Yoongi said, now sitting on Jimin’s bed and leaning back on one hand, his beer in the other held by the fingers he wasn’t using to point at Hoseok, “that thing where you just handed him your drink? Yeah, make sure you never do that to me.”
“Yoongi likes his beer,” Hoseok laughed as Jimin slipped the wet sheet mask onto his face, pressing it into his skin with practiced hands. “I hate it.”
Jimin thanked him as he took his drink back. “And thank you, for that tip.”
“Still can’t believe I’m drinking with Park Jimin,” Hoseok smiled as he took a sip of his drink.
“You can hardly consider it drinking with that sugary crap,” Yoongi commented, now stretching out on Jimin’s bed.
“It was in your fridge!”
“Yeah, for you.”
“You’re the best, hyung.” Hoseok sent him finger hearts as Yoongi rolled his eyes.
Jimin had to laugh at their banter. They were like brothers. Calm, harmless, odor-free, hockeyless brothers.
“What about you guys? When did you start skating?” Jimin asked, hoping to take the focus off himself.
“I haven’t been skating that long. I mean, I could always skate like a normal kid, but I was a dancer. I’m definitely not anywhere near as good as the rest of the team.”
“Shut up, Hobi,” Yoongi said, nearly choking himself on his drink as he urgently got his words out. “You’re so good.”
“Not as good as you, hyung,” Hoseok insisted.
“What kind of dancer were you?”
“Every kind,” Hoseok said fondly, “I started in hip hop though. I still like it, but my focus is with skating now.”
Now Jimin was really interested in seeing Hoseok skate. This school’s team didn’t take just anybody as far as he knew, and Jimin couldn’t count the number of dance classes he’d been signed up for when he’d been training properly. He’d certainly enjoyed them, but he’d never be able to touch the instructors and choreographers out there. Hoseok must be good if he was able to channel that into skating.
“What about you, Yoongi-ssi?”
“Hyung,” Yoongi corrected him. “Uh, don’t hate me for this, but I grew up playing hockey.” He pressed his lips together and waited for Jimin to say something.
Jimin laughed. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me how much you hate the sport.”
Yoongi glanced at Hoseok, then back at Jimin.
“I’m kidding!”
“Oh good.” Yoongi sounded relieved. “I switched from hockey to skating when I was eleven. My parents weren’t happy.”
Jimin shrugged, “mine have never liked it either. But you have to do what makes you happy, right?”
“Really? Your parents don’t like it?” Hoseok asked Jimin. “Even with all your success?”
“My mom is supportive, but my stepdad hates it.”
“Oh well screw him!” Hoseok exclaimed. “He has no idea what he’s missing.”
Jimin shivered, pulling his legs up closer to his torso in attempt to get warm. It wasn’t unusual for him to be cold going to bed which was why he always wore sweaters to sleep. It usually took him time to heat the sheets up enough to the point where he was comfortable, but this, this was really cold. He had no idea how he was going to sleep like this. He pulled his long sleeves over his hands and tucked his arms between his chest and his knees, making himself into as small of a ball as he possibly could. He could feel himself shivering, teeth chattering slightly and he hoped that it would soon warm him up.
Tonight had been fun, aside from his run in with the hockey players, but he’d gotten to know his new roommates a bit, learn about them and had some drinks. But even the alcohol couldn’t keep him warm now and he was cursing himself for not stealing the blanket off his bed at home.
He didn’t hear the sound until it was right next to him and he jumped as he felt something touch his arm.
“Shh, Jimin, it’s just me.” It was Hoseok, whispering from beside him. He was about to ask when he felt a blanket come over him and a warm body slide in next to him. “I could hear you shivering from up there.”
Jimin was about to say he was ok, but the way Hoseok wrapped himself and his blanket around Jimin was so warm and gentle that his voice caught in his throat. Hoseok’s knees slid in behind Jimin’s as he released the ball he was holding himself in, his new friend rubbing his arm to generate heat and warm him up.
“Thanks,” Jimin whispered, not wanting to disturb Yoongi.
“Getting warmer?”
Jimin nodded, but then realized it was dark. “Yeah.”
“Is this ok?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
Jimin thought about it. Was it weird? They’d just met but… he felt warm, comfortable. Even if he hadn’t been freezing to death, the way Hoseok was holding him made him feel safe and secure. The last thing he wanted was for Hoseok to leave.
“Yeah.”