Chapter Text
“Live-in Caregiver needed
Looking for a full time, live-in caregiver for our quadriplegic son. Duties include light housekeeping and providing companionship. No medical training needed. Accommodation and meals will be provided.
1000€ per week.”
That was what he remembered of the ad, including some additional information – like the fact that they were basically living in a fucking mansion in the most expensive part of town. Now, this wasn’t a job Yoongi would usually apply for, seeing as he didn’t exactly like people, but ‘providing companionship’? ‘No medical training needed’? Sounded like they were just looking for a friend for their disabled son. A paid friend. Yoongi hadn’t ever heard of something as amazing as that, honestly. The fact that he got kicked out by his parents and desperately needed a place to live was just the cherry on top. And 1000€ a week? Damn.
‘Damn’, that had also been his first thought when he’d arrived at the mansion for the job interview and had seen all the other candidates. They’d all looked like – well, he didn’t like stereotypes, but – medical students. With their glasses and ties and intelligent looking faces and tidy clothes and then there had been him – leather jacket, light blue hair and huge bags under his eyes. His hopes for getting this job had died faster then he’d hit the call button when he’d found the ad.
“Why do you want this job?” they’d asked, and “Do you like working with people?” And no, no he didn’t. He hated it. It hadn’t always been like that but working in a grocery store for a little over a year had scarred him for life. Not really expecting to be having any chance of actually getting the job, he’d just answered honestly. No, he didn’t like people. He had no fucking idea about how wheelchairs worked. He was pretty sure he hadn’t ever even talked to a disabled person; not a quadriplegic one at the very least. No, he was not willing to help the guy take a piss. 1000$ was a lot, but certainly not enough for something like that. Luckily, that wasn’t part of the job, as they’d told him afterwards, unable to keep their amusement hidden any longer. When he’d left, he had been sure he was the only one getting a laugh out of these stuck up-looking people. He hadn’t known if that was a good thing, but he’d tried to tell himself that.
When he’d gotten a call not even a week later, telling him he got the job, his jaw had dropped so low it practically hit the ground. They’d told him to come in the next day and bring all his stuff; he’d get a room in their mansion, with his own damn bathroom. For a minute, he’d worried that they’d just gotten the wrong number, because how was that even possible? They were rich, richer than rich, probably one of the richest families in the whole country, and they wanted him – a high school drop-out who got kicked out of his home and didn’t even know how to do basic CPR – that was…frankly, impossible. But who was he to complain? If they’d really called the wrong person, he could at least demand some kind of compensation for wasting his time.
But it turned out they hadn’t made a mistake. When he’d arrived, they’d showed him around the house and to his room – and there he was, sitting on ‘his’ king-size bed, looking at some fucking expensive looking paintings on the wall, wondering what the dude he’d be babysitting might be like. He hadn’t even asked how old he was; maybe he was still a kid. Yoongi hoped that was not the case. He didn’t know how to handle kids and he didn’t want to know. Then again, to other people, he certainly didn’t look like he’d be a good influence on some 10-year-old, so that was unlikely. He’d also found out the people who he’d been talking to during the interview weren’t actually the guy’s parents, but more like – his butlers? He wasn’t sure. He basically didn’t have a single clue on how old the guy could be. Maybe he was in his 40s and just liked looking at twinks.
A sigh escaped his lips. Were quadriplegic people able to – well, do sexual things? Could they even get an erection? Probably not, but he had no idea. He certainly hoped not, that would at least slim the chances of him getting raped. Then again, ‘quadriplegic’ meant not being able to move – what, basically everything? He frowned. Now he felt stupid for even worrying about that. He’d seen one of these – elevator-things for wheelchairs at the stairs, so all he’d have to do was knock over the wheelchair if the guy would get too weird. Not a nice thing to do, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of some creep wiggling around on the ground like a bug.
A loud knock on the door made him jump, immediately shoving the thought aside, as if the dude stepping in might read his mind and kick him out again. He looked up, expecting to see the old guy from before, but instead a young, tall guy was standing there. He was – really handsome? Now he was worried again. Maybe wheelchair-dude really did like looking at twinks? Damn.
“Hey, nice to meet you! I’m Taehyung,” the guy introduced himself, giving Yoongi a warm smile. Wow, he was cute. Maybe Yoongi liked looking at twinks, too. “Nice to meet you. Yoongi,” he replied and held out his hand the shake the other’s. “So, you are - uh, a butler? Sorry, employee? Or – “ Raising an eyebrow, he followed Taehyung outside and along the hallway. “No, I’m a friend. I do live here though.” He nodded, a small smirk on his face. Well, at least they all seemed to be getting some fun out of this.
“A friend? Of the wheelchair-guy?” he asked, clearing his throat immediately after. “Didn’t get his name, sorry.” Taehyung let out a laugh, shaking his head. “How charming,” he chuckled. “But yeah. His name’s Jimin and we’re childhood friends.”
“Oh, so he’s around our age? Phew.” Yoongi sighed in relief, earning himself a confused look. “I was kind of worried he’s some old dude who liked looking at twinks, you know.”
Taehyung stopped walking in the middle of the stairs and started laughing, wiping a single tear from his eye. “Well, I mean – you’re not wrong. He does like looking at twinks, I guess,” he said, smirking. “He’s not old, though. He’s 21. And a whole twink himself.”
“Huh,” was all that left Yoongi’s mouth. 21 seemed like – a good age? He was only 2 years older, so they might actually get along. At least have some common interests. And a twink, too? Did that mean he was cute? This job just kept getting better and better.
Yoongi followed Taehyung downstairs and along another hallway, until they reached a door. “Just a heads up,” Taehyung started, stopping in front of said door, “He isn’t in a good mood right now.” He turned around and looked Yoongi up and down, before nodding. “I guess you look like someone who can handle getting bitched at.”
Now it was Yoongi’s turn to laugh. “I certainly can.” He shrugged, before nodding to the door. He was getting really curious, he wanted to see the guy already. Taehyung took the hint and knocked, opening the door after hearing a muffled ‘Yes’.
“Your new caregiver, Yoongi, is here to meet you. Be nice, okay?” Tae introduced him, leaning his head to one side. Yoongi stood next to him, frowning at the backside of the wheelchair that made it impossible to see anything of the guy sitting in it. An elderly looking women was apparently busy with combing his hair, stepping behind the wheelchair after she was finished to turn him around. “We’ll see if he deserves that,” the wheelchair-guy – Jimin – said, giving Yoongi a cold look. Yoongi, on the other hand, was – shocked. That guy was a whole twink. A cute one. With full lips and a slim body and tiny hands. Damn.
“What are you staring at? Never seen a wheelchair before?” Jimin hissed at him. Yoongi couldn’t help but smirk at that.
“Does he bite? Not that I’d mind, I’m into that,” he said, directed at Taehyung, who snorted. “I think you’ll like him, Jimin.” He gave Yoongi a pat on the shoulder, before nodding. “I’ll have to go now. You can take a walk in the garden together if you want, to get to know each other. Oh, and lunch will be ready in about an hour. Is there anything you don’t like? Any allergies?”
“Nope. If it’s free, I’m gonna eat it.” Yoongi shrugged, walking around the room and taking a look at the bookshelves. Jimin had a ton of books; love stories, mostly, and a bit of fantasy too. He’d – kind of expected that. Escaping reality and all that.
“Alright. See you later then,” Taehyung said and left along with the woman. Yoongi turned around to look at Jimin. “Wanna take a walk, then?” he offered, but Jimin just squinted at him.
“No. You look like you’d sell me for drugs.” Yoongi let out a snort, and shook his head. “You’re a snarky one, aren’t you? How many caregivers did you scare off with that attitude?” He chuckled and sat down on the big armchair located in the corner of the room. For a few seconds, he stared at the back of the wheelchair again, wondering why Jimin didn’t turn around, when – “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled and reached for the wheelchair to turn him around himself. Getting used to this would take some time…
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jimin just complained, giving him an irritated look. “Why are you even here? You don’t look like someone who – “
“Who what? Has a job?” Yoongi smirked. “I mean, I basically get paid for being some brat’s friend, so you’re not entirely wrong. You can barely even call this a job.” Jimin huffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t need any friends. And I certainly don’t need a friend like you,” he said, and sighed. “I don’t get why they even hired you.”
“Well, probably because you’re acting like a spoiled little bitch and they thought they’d need someone who looked like he could bitch right back at you.” Yoongi smirked again, looking into Jimin’s squinted eyes. “I would love to kick you in the face right now,” the other mumbled after a few seconds of silence.
“Oh, boo hoo, what a pity you can’t do that, huh?” Yoongi leaned closer to his face, perfectly amused about Jimin’s attempts to bite his nose. “So, how did this happen?” He gestured at the wheelchair. “Were you born like this or was it an accident?” he asked, fumbling around on Jimin’s knee, pressing a little here and there, amazed his leg didn’t even flinch.
“Hey, stop touching me!” Jimin immediately complained, making Yoongi roll his eyes. “Oh, come on, you can’t even feel it, can you?”
“I can feel it!” Yoongi blinked.
“You can?” He stopped for a second, but then continued fumbling at his knee. “So you still have some feeling left in your legs? But you can’t move them?”
“No, I – the right side of my body is completely numb. I have some feeling on the left side. Only a little, though. And only sometimes.” Yoongi tilted his head to the side. This had been the first time Jimin hadn’t hissed at him. He looked a little uncomfortable, though. If Yoongi had to guess, he’d say it’d been an accident. Probably not too long ago, too. People born with a disability or people who’d been living with it for a while usually weren’t this – sensitive. Or at least Yoongi thought so, after years of educating himself through the all-mighty TV. “Don’t you like being touched? Isn’t it nice to feel something every once in a while?” He took his hands off Jimin though and leaned back instead. He didn’t want him complaining about being sexually assaulted or something like that.
“I – I don’t know,” Jimin answered with furrowed brows. “But I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t even know you.”
“Oh, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”
“I never said I want to get to know you.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. There was the bitchy brat again. “Fine,” Yoongi just said and pulled out his phone. “Then I’m just gonna sit here, stare at my phone and make sure you don’t kill yourself – oh wait, you can’t even do that.” He smirked at the other, who mumbled an angry ‘fucking asshole’, and opened up twitter.
“Got the best job ever! 1000 bucks for babysitting a whiny brat who can’t move! Send tweet,” he quietly said while typing, laughing a little at himself, and completely ignoring the pissed off look on Jimin’s face. He then proceeded to look at some memes on 9gag, check Facebook, answer some messages – all the while ignoring Jimin, who was slowly getting impatient. “Hey,” he repeated for probably the 4th time, the annoyance obvious in his voice. “Hey, don’t ignore me. At least turn on the TV.” Yoongi glanced at him for a moment, before pulling out his headphones and plugging them in. He didn’t have any intentions of talking to the other if he’d continue being this rude. He needed to be taught a lesson.
Soon after, he regretted it though, when something wet suddenly hit his face. Frowning, he pulled out the headphones and looked up at the other, wiping his face.
“Did you – did you just spit in my face?”
“How else am I supposed to get your attention if you’re not listening, asshole?”
Yoongi had the sudden urge the drown the boy. Or punch him in the face. Or both. He didn’t want to go to jail though, so he decided to just – spit back. It landed perfectly on his face, which went from a shocked expression to a frustrated one. “How’s that feel, huh?” Yoongi grumbled, already turning his attention back to his phone, when he noticed Jimin’s eyes getting all watery. He rolled his eyes and pulled the wheelchair closer, grabbing a tissue from the small table next to him.
“Stop looking so pathetic,” he said, wiping the spit off Jimin’s face.
“You’re rude and I hate you,” Jimin mumbled, making Yoongi laugh a little. “I could say the same about you. I don’t hate you, though.” He shrugged and got up to look for a trash can, which he found in the bathroom.
“You don’t? You just spat right into my face.” Yoongi returned to Jimin giving him a suspicious look. “Well yeah, because you did it first.” He shrugged and sat down again, putting his phone away. “Listen, I’m not here to make your life harder, okay? If you’re nice, I’ll be nice too. And if you want something, you ask. You don’t demand. Get it?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a sign that Jimin understood what he was saying. It took him a while; and it didn’t really seem all that genuine, but Yoongi didn’t care. For now. He could imagine that this was weird and uncomfortable for the other, but that didn’t mean he’d take any shit Jimin would throw at him. Being miserable didn’t excuse shitty behavior and Yoongi was set on making Jimin understand that.
“Can you turn on the TV then?” Jimin asked after a few seconds of silence, still a bit teary-eyed. Yoongi didn’t react though, just looked at him expectantly. Jimin rolled his eyes, before looking away. “Please?”
“Oh, look. For a moment I thought you didn’t know that word.” He smirked and got up again. “Where’s the remote?” He looked around and found it on the bedside table. When he turned on the TV, he let out a small gasp. “Damn.” That thing looked fucking expensive. Then again, literally everything in this house looked expensive. Why was he still surprised? He looked through the channels, when he discovered the TV actually had internet. “Holy shit, that’s nice,” he mumbled, more to himself, and opened up Youtube. “Are you a cat-person or a dog-person?” He looked at Jimin, who was obviously confused, but answered with ‘cat-person’. “Cat videos it is, then.”
“Cat videos? Really?” Jimin sighed and stretched his neck to be able to see the screen; Yoongi pulled the wheelchair back a bit and placed it in front of the TV, so Jimin could properly see. “What? You’d rather watch videos from Dr. Pimple Popper?” He asked, laughing. He wouldn’t mind; those things were strangely soothing to him, but he wasn’t sure Jimin would see it the same way. “Dr. Pimple Popper?” Jimin frowned, obviously unsure if he should ask. The name was more than giving away what those videos were about.
“Yeah, wanna see?” Amused, Yoongi opened the search bar to type, but changed his mind halfway through. “Okay, this isn’t from Dr. Pimple Popper, but it’s amazing. The best. You’ll love it.” He clicked on a video showing a closeup of an ear housing a huge – blackhead.
“What the hell is this?” Yoongi could literally hear the disgust in Jimin’s voice, but a look at his face told him he was curious at the same time. They watched the video in silence – a whole 8 minutes of extracting the huge blackhead through a total of 3 holes, only interrupted by Jimin’s quiet ‘ew’s and ‘oh my god’s every now and then. After the video finished, he grinned at Jimin.
“And? What do you think?”
“Fucking gross,” he answered, grimacing. He was quite for a few seconds before saying, “Show me the pimple popper-videos.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh. He’d had the exact same reaction back when he’d first stumbled upon this dark side of Youtube. He’d actually researched why this whole blackhead-business was so soothing to him, and he’d found entire studies about it, saying a good extraction video was almost like a mental orgasm. He could certainly attest to that. And Jimin seemed to agree, too.
They’d spent half an hour watching blackhead extractions, pimple popping and even ear wax removals, when they heard a knock on the door. Taehyung stepped inside a moment later.
“Lunch is rea- what the fuck is that?” His jaw dropped open when he looked at the screen, making both Yoongi and Jimin laugh. “Ear wax removal videos. It’s gross, but also really satisfying. Oh look, he got out the whole thing in one piece!” Jimin explained, getting a little excited at the big chunk of wax getting pulled out of the ear.
Maybe – just maybe, they would get along.
He got up, ready for eating, when he noticed Taehyung had sat down on the bed next to Jimin, both completely entranced by what was happening on screen.
“Is that normal? I mean, does – does the inside of my ears look like that?” Bewildered, Taehyung covered both his ears with his hands, making Yoongi chuckle. “Not unless you’ve got an infection, I think. Can we eat now? I’m hungry. I haven’t had breakfast.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Follow me,” Taehyung said and got up, eyes still glued to the screen. Yoongi rolled his eyes and turned the TV off, earning himself a pout from the others. “You can watch these all night for all I care, but I’m fucking hungry.” He nodded and grabbed the handles of Jimin’s wheelchair to push it outside of the room, following Taehyung into the – well, dining hall was probably the appropriate word for it. “Holy shit,” Yoongi gasped, “Just how rich are y’all?” Ignoring their chuckling, he continued to gape at the interior, the chairs, the tables, the paintings on the walls, the walls themselves with all the fancy decorations and just – the table alone was probably worth more than all of his organs together if he ever decided to sell them. He’d thought, after entering this huge mansion, he’d seen it all, it couldn’t get worse – or better – it couldn’t get more pretentious, but here he was, wrong and impressed.
“Are you done or do you wanna take photos?” Yoongi blinked and looked at Jimin, who had a smug grin spread all over his face. That damn spoiled, snobbish brat.
“Oh, shut up. And you thought I’d sell you for drugs? I’d probably get more for one of these chairs,” he said, rolling his eyes, and pushed Jimin to the one spot where a chair was missing, assuming that was where Jimin was supposed to sit. “At least the chairs still do what they’re supposed to.” He laughed at his own – admittedly, very dark – joke and ruffled Jimin’s hair, completely ignoring the concerned look on Taehyung’s face. He then took his place next to Jimin’s and looked expectantly at the – employees bringing the food. They even had these fancy plate-covers – what were they called? – and when they were lifted he was presented with steak. Fucking steak. Slowly but surely, Yoongi was getting worried that this was all just a dream. A king-size bed? His very own bathroom? A dining hall and now steak? This just had to be a dream. He was more than willing to put up with Jimin’s shitty attitude for all that. Although he was sure he’d get the kid to like him sooner or later. Hey, he’d also liked the pimple popping-videos, so there was at least some common ground.
Quietly humming to himself, he grabbed one of the forks and one of the knives – he wasn’t sure which were the right ones and he didn’t care as long as they did their job – and started eating. After a few bites and pleased sighs, he was interrupted by Taehyung clearing his throat. Yoongi looked up, a confused and very intelligent sounding ‘huh?’ leaving his lips, and noticed Taehyung inconspicuously nodding in Jimin’s direction. He hadn’t started eating; instead he was staring at his plate with a pout.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
Silence.
“Oh! Oh shit, I forgot,” he then said, hurriedly pulling Jimin’s plate closer to cut his steak into small pieces. “Why didn’t you just say something?” He sighed again, exasperated this time, and only got a huff in return. “What? Too proud?” He raised an eyebrow and pierced one of the pieces with the fork to bring it to Jimin’s mouth. He ate it without complaining, not even looking at Yoongi though, who just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay then. Next time I’m just gonna let you starve if you don’t open your damn mouth.”
“You seem to be, uh – getting along pretty…well?” Yoongi looked at Taehyung, who was nervously fiddling around with his sleeves. ‘Pretty well’ was a huge overstatement, Yoongi thought to himself. Or maybe it wasn’t? What the hell had Jimin done to all the people that had been here before him? Yoongi raised an eyebrow at the boy in the wheelchair, continuing to feed him and eating himself, in turns. “I’m not sure about that.” He sighed, as Jimin took another bite and turned his face away so he didn’t have to look at him. What was that guy’s problem?
“Oh, but you are. Kind of. At least he hasn’t bitten you yet. Or has he?” Taehyung’s eyes widened for a moment, before he gave Jimin a strict look. “Did you bite him?”
“No! What the hell. I only did that once. Can you stop bringing it up already?” Jimin let out an annoyed huff. So – that hadn’t been a joke? Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, he tried. He didn’t manage to, though, so he spat in my face instead.”
“He did what?” Jimin glared at him, mouthing a silent ‘asshole’, but Yoongi just chuckled. What did he expect? If he was gonna do shit like that, Yoongi would obviously call him out on it. “Jimin…You can’t just – bite people or spit at people. You scared off, what – 11 people last year? You need to stop this.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Jimin snapped at Taehyung, who blinked in surprise and then bit his lip.
Yoongi felt really bad for the guy. He obviously just tried to help, to be nice, and this was what he got in return. If it was him, he would’ve left a long, long time ago.
“S-Sorry,” he heard Jimin mutter a second later though, and was surprised at the sudden change of tone. So he did have some manners.
“It’s okay,” Taehyung answered, a soft smile on his face, and ruffled his hair. “Oh, Thomas is here. Ready?” Yoongi looked up to see a middle-aged man standing in the doorframe, glasses and slicked-back hair and a doctor’s coat. Was Jimin sick? Did he need therapy or something? Nobody had told him. Confused, Yoongi got up, but Taehyung shook his head, signaling him to stay. He watched this Thomas-guy take Jimin away, before he turned to Taehyung again.
“Who’s that?”
“Thomas? He helps Jimin with – well, hygiene stuff. You know, going to the toilet…and things like that,” Taehyung explained.
“Oh. What a shitty job.” He snorted. “Literally.”
“Oh my god,” Taehyung laughed and ran a hand over his face. It was true, though. And Yoongi was glad that wasn’t part of his job. God bless Thomas. And god bless all the other people who walked into the room to clean up the table. He felt a little like a king or something. He could get used to this.
“So, how come you live here? Are you an orphan or something and Jimin’s parents took you in?” Yoongi asked, after the attendants had left, blunt as always. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn’t really seem to mind. “No,” he started, “our parents were friends long before we were born, when they still lived in South Korea. They founded a company together and got really successful. After that they travelled a lot and, well, bought houses all over the world. My family’s main residence is in Paris, but after Jimin’s accident I decided to stay here with him.” With a small nod, he wrapped up his explanation. Huh. ‘Main residence’. So there actually were people nowadays who had something like a main residence. Wild.
“So, it was an accident, huh? He didn’t want to tell me,” he said instead. They’d had enough fun with him being shocked about them being fucking rich.
“Well, yeah. He doesn’t like talking about it.” Taehyung lightly scratched the back of his head. “It was a car accident. His driver, Simon, died and Jimin – “ He sighed and turned down his gaze, face blank. “Sometimes I think he – he wishes he was the one who died that day.”
Yoongi wasn’t surprised. Jimin did seem like your typical severely depressed kid. And he could see why; he’d probably feel the same if he woke up one day and was suddenly a – living potato. Heck, he sometimes felt like dying just because. He didn’t even want to imagine how Jimin must feel like. But he was still alive, they were still alive and there were still things they could do. He knew a thing or two about depression; maybe he could show the brat that there were things worth living for.
“Paris, huh?” he said after a while, changing the topic. This wasn’t something they should discuss without Jimin. It was – private. Not their – or his – business, unless Jimin wanted to talk about his struggles himself.
“You speak French then? And Korean, too?” Taehyung nodded.
“German, Korean, French, Chinese and English actually.”
“Holy shit,” Yoongi huffed. “And then there’s me: a useless piece of shit that doesn’t even speak proper Korean, even though it’s my native language.” He felt dumb next to Taehyung. How was it even fair to be rich and handsome and smart? “What about Jimin? Does he speak all of those languages too?”
“Well, he doesn’t know any Chinese.” Yoongi couldn’t help but be a little bit relieved. At least he wouldn’t feel as dumb next to Jimin then. “He does know a little Arabic though.” Oh. Never mind.
Taehyung chuckled lightly. “I’m sure there are other things you can do that we can’t.”
“Well, there’s a lot I can do that Jimin can’t. Move, for starters.” Taehyung drew in a sharp breath.
“I – You – Your humor is a bit – “
“Dark?” Yoongi smirked. “I know. Too much?”
“Well – I guess? I don’t think Jimin will…find it all that funny.” Yeah, he was aware of that.
“If he wants to be treated like a normal person, he’ll have to get used to it. I mean, he’s free to joke about my weak-ass legs too. That’s only fair,” he said, shrugging. That’s just how he was; and friends were allowed to poke fun at your weaknesses from time to time, right? After all, that was why he was even here. To become friends with Jimin.
“Weak-ass legs?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Well, they’re really scrawny and pale. Back in school the others used to call me ‘chicken legs’. I fucking hated it.”
“Chicken legs,” Taehyung repeated, quietly chuckling to himself. “Now I’m curious.”
“Help me keep this job until summer and I’ll show you,” he said, smirking. He was pretty sure he could do this by himself, but getting some help here and there certainly wasn’t a bad idea. They’d been friends for years, maybe Taehyung could give him some hints how to get Jimin to like him.
“Deal!” Taehyung giggled and got up. “Follow me, then, I’m gonna show you Jimin’s favorite place.” He gave him a warm smile and left the room. Yoongi followed him outside, through hallways and doors and – will he ever find his way back? – to the garden. There, after walking through a fucking maze, located in the furthest corner from the house they arrived at – a wooden pavilion, surrounded by flowers and housing a small white piano.
“Are you kidding me,” Yoongi muttered under his breath. “This looks like it’s coming straight out of Pride and Prejudice or some shit.”
Taehyung laughed. “It does.” He walked into the pavilion and pulled the cover off the piano. “If he’s ever in a really bad mood, just bring him here and call for Jaqueline.”
“What for?” Yoongi came closer, softly running a hand over the keys. “To play?” He then sat down in front of the piano and started playing himself. That was the one thing he could do that they, apparently, couldn’t. Quietly humming along, he played one of the songs he could still remember off the top of his head: Mozart’s Lacrimosa. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Taehyung’s surprised face; the boy silently sat down on the bench behind him and listened.
“Wow,” he heard Jimin’s voice as soon as he was finished, and looked up to find him being brought over by Thomas. “Wouldn’t have expected you to – “
“Oh, so first I don’t look like someone who has a job and now I don’t look like someone who can play the piano?” Yoongi smirked, not in the least impressed by Jimin’s accusations.
“I was going to say ‘know Mozart’, but go off I guess.”
“How would I not know Mozart? I was literally born and raised in Austria,” he said, rolling his eyes. There was no way to live in this country without having at least heard of the guy. And if you were to take piano lessons here, obviously the first difficult piece you learned was one of Mozart. What did Jimin think he was? A fucking monkey?
“So you can play Beethoven too?” He turned to Tae, who suddenly seemed really excited.
“Uh, sure. Just wanted to show off some Austrian spirit here, so,” Yoongi shrugged. Honestly, he liked Beethoven more, too, but –
“Huh? Wasn’t Beethoven Austrian too?”
Yoongi blinked. No? No, he wasn’t. Although a lot of people seemed to think that.
“Uh, sure. Yeah, sure. Full Austrian, the dude.” He held back an amused grin and turned to the piano again, playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata this time. One of his favorites.
“Beethoven’s German,” he heard Jimin whispering to the other, who only responded with an enlightened ‘oh’. Damn it Jimin, Yoongi thought to himself. Why did he have to ruin everything? His plan of claiming Beethoven for Austria and shoving Hitler off to the Germans had been working out so well.
With a sigh, he finished and started playing one of his own pieces instead. It didn’t take them long to get interested. “Another Austrian composer?” Jimin asked, and Yoongi smirked.
“Yeah. His name’s – Agust D.”
“Agust D? Weird name. But it sounds nice.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying hard to hide his amusement – and, apparently, failed.
“Why are you so amused? Who’s this from?” Yoongi glanced over his shoulders to meet Jimin’s squinted eyes. He smiled.
“A friend. A close friend.” He would keep that secret a little longer. One surprise a day was more than enough.
“Oh, I have to go.” Yoongi stopped playing and turned around again. Taehyung was beaming at his vibrating phone before getting the call. “Jungkookie?” He sounded excited. Yoongi raised an eyebrow and watched him leave, before looking at Jimin.
“His girldfriend?” He nodded in the direction Taehyung left and Jimin laughed.
“Boyfriend. ‘Jungkook’ is literally a male name.”
“Oh, excuse me, and I’m literally Austrian and don’t know shit about Korean names.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “I was just saying, you know.” Then why had he sounded so damn cocky?
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go inside, demons like you usually don’t take well to the sun.” He got up and pulled the cover over the piano again, ignoring Jimin’s complaints about being called a demon. Hey, he didn’t mean it as an insult. It was more like…an affectionate nickname.
“What’s with all the Koreans around here anyways? Isn’t that kind of a – weird coincidence?” he asked, while taking Jimin inside, fully insinuating that it wasn’t actually a coincidence. Before coming here, he’d only known one other Korean guy; and that was a distant relative or something, he didn’t remember. So basically family. Which didn’t really count.
“What do you mean, ‘all the Koreans’? It’s just me and Tae and our families, who met when they still lived in South Korea. He met Jungkook when he visited his grandparents in Daegu last year, so no coincidence there, either. It’s basically just you who’s weird.” Jimin gave him an irritated look, which Yoongi, as always, ignored.
“I’m quarter Chinese, if that makes it any less weird.”
“I don’t get your problem, anyways. We have around 80 employees and only 3 of them are Asian,” Jimin then said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, okay, calm down, it was just a question.” Now it was Yoongi’s turn to roll his eyes. How was he supposed to know that? He’d only seen, what – maybe 5 of them so far? Could have been a coincidence that all 5 of them were white, too.
“Are they all gay too, though? Because that would be a weird coincidence.”
“’Too’?” Jimin leaned his head back to give Yoongi a confused look. “Why, who else is gay?”
Okay, one of them had gotten something wrong here.
“Uh, I thought you were? Taehyung said you liked looking at twinks. And he literally has a boyfriend.”
“He said what?” Yoongi laughed at Jimin’s shocked face. So, had that been a joke? Yoongi was a little confused. Maybe also a little disappointed, but he sure as hell wouldn’t say that out loud.
“I mean, I’m not – “ Jimin then said, but stopped in the middle of the sentence to nibble on his lower lip. “I’m not…opposed to guys, I guess.”
“So basically, you’re still in the closet and haven’t come out yet, because how are you even supposed to open the doors of the closet without arms?” Yoongi laughed at his own bad joke and positioned the wheelchair opposite to the big chair he’d been sitting in before.
“I hope a lightning strikes you while crapping,” Jimin muttered, and Yoongi gasped.
“But I won’t have my very own Thomas there to save me,” he said, acting offended, but couldn’t keep it up and laughed instead. Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find it funny. At all.
Had he gone too far now?
“Stop joking about this, it isn’t funny.”
Yoongi blinked. “Hey.”
He bent down to look at Jimin’s face, that was turned towards the ground. “Hey, are you crying?” he asked, hesitant. He didn’t want to – actually hurt him. It had just been a dumb joke. Just – friendly bickering.
He reached out to lift Jimin’s chin, when a sharp pain shot through his hand.
“Ouch! What the fuck?” He pulled back his hand to see deep and dark red imprints of – teeth. “Oh my god, you bit me. Am I even vaccinated?” he mumbled, irritated – but for some reason, not even mad.
“You deserved that,” Jimin said, smug grin all over his face again. So that had been an act, huh? What a brat. Yoongi couldn’t help but smirk, too. “Well, I guess I did.”
He sighed. “But seriously now, you know I’m just joking, right? I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, just to be sure. He hadn’t ever met any disabled people and he didn’t know if there was some specific way they wanted to be treated – but seeing as he himself hated being differently just because he was Asian, gay, poor or whatever else, he figured the same would apply in this case. And jokes were a part of being ‘treated normal’ – at least in his book.
That didn’t mean he was right, though.
“You’ve already joked about me being unable to move about 6 times, and it just now occurred to you asking that would be the polite thing to do?” Jimin frowned, but his amused expression told Yoongi he wasn’t angry or anything. “I can’t really say I like it, but I guess it’s better than being pitied.”
“Great! I can continue cracking cripple-jokes, then,” Yoongi said, laughing. “So, what do you wanna do now? Go out? Uh, watch a movie?” He looked at around, trying to think of something they could do. “Want me to read you a book? I’ll even change my voice for every character, just for you.” He smirked and got up to look at the bookshelf once again. All this romance-shit…maybe this had been a mistake.
“Yeah, read me a book.” Too late.
“Uhm, okay. Which one? Can we not do a romance one? Please?” He looked at Jimin pleading – and regretted it when he saw the mischievous grin on his face. Damn. He should have begged for the romance instead.
“I don’t think I even own a single book that is completely devoid of any romance.”
“Then what’s all this fantasy-stuff? Game of Thrones? Can’t be a lot of romance in there, right?” Yoongi grabbed the book and pulled it out of the shelf. Things like these were usually about wars and dragons and goblins, right? No romance…right?
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Jimin giggled, leaving Yoongi confused. Summer child? He literally had the same complexion as the wall behind him. Summer who? Sun? Who’s that? He didn’t know her.
“Fine, then read me Game of Thrones. I think Tae finished the first one already, though. There should be a bookmark somewhere in the second one.” Yoongi pulled out the second book, an orange one, reading ‘A Clash of Kings’ on the front. See? Wars. Kings. Probably knights and horses. He nodded and found the bookmark. “Do you wanna sit there or – like, lie down? Or, I don’t know. You tell me how you feel most comfortable.”
“It’s fine like this. If I lie down, I’ll just fall asleep.” Yoongi shrugged and sat down in his chair again, starting to read. He had no idea what exactly this was about; but there seemed to be a woman and a guy talking, so he changed his voice in an – ‘appropriate’ way, being rewarded by small giggles from Jimin’s side. They were riding somewhere, talking, and – some…other stuff?
“’Before I believe you, I shall need to see your breasts grow ripe, and taste your mother’s milk’…? What kind of shit is this?” Yoongi gave the other a concerned look, but he only laughed.
“Continue. It’ll get even better.” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but continued to read. He didn’t come very far, though –
“Wait, that’s his sister? Oh my god, what is happening in this damn book?” Jimin let out a snort, obviously very amused by Yoongi’s confusion. “Haven’t you watched the series?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, and Yoongi just shook his head. He’d heard of it, he’d even put it on his ‘To watch’-list, but now that he’d read this, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to watch it.
“It’s great, it really is. You know what, start with the first book, I want to see your reactions.” There was the smug grin again. Yoongi watched him suspiciously as he slowly reached forward to the shelf again and pulled out the first book. Maybe he should have chosen one of the love stories instead.
With a sigh he opened the book, searching for the right page. “I really hope this doesn’t get any weirder.” He shook his head and started reading.
He didn’t want to admit it, but it didn’t take long for him to get hooked. There was some weird shit in it, but it was strangely – fitting? He only noticed how long they’d been sitting here when it slowly got dark outside and he’d had to turn on the light, and again when Taehyung came in to bring them food. He’d already eaten apparently, so he took over so Yoongi could eat and feed Jimin. Afterwards he went to bed, leaving them alone again.
“Let’s continue this tomorrow, okay?” Jimin said, yawning. Yoongi wasn’t really happy about it; it had just gotten intense and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what would happen next. Maybe he would just steal the book and –
“Don’t even think about reading it on your own,” Jimin interrupted his thoughts though, correctly guessing what Yoongi had been plotting.
“Come on, I wanna know what happens next,” he complained, topping it off with a pout, but Jimin didn’t waver. “You will – tomorrow.” He smirked and yawned again. Yoongi just quietly grunted and put the book away. “Fine, then. Want me to uh – help you get changed and stuff?”
“No!” Jimin immediately refused, a little too fast for Yoongi not to get suspicious.
“Okay?” He looked at him with raised eyebrows. Not that he cared – helping him change sounded like work and he was a little tired, too. But this all looked like he had something to hide. And Yoongi had always been a nosy one.
“Just – just call for Helen, okay?” Jimin nodded to the phone fixed to the wall next to the door. “Just press 3 and the call button.”
Yoongi did as he was told, and a few minutes later, the elderly woman from this morning walked into the room. “Ready for bed, yes?” she asked Jimin, smiling, and fetched his pajama from the closet. “Ah, before I forget,” she then said and handed Yoongi a – baby monitor…?
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he mumbled, staring at the thing. He didn’t understand. Jimin wasn’t a baby.
“Keep it near you at all times. In case Jimin needs something or is in pain.” She nodded and started undressing Jimin, the back of the wheelchair again hiding him from Yoongi’s view.
“Uh, I guess.” He frowned. “Good night, then.” He glanced over to the wheelchair once more, but then turned around and left, after they both wished him a good night, too. He walked back to his room – without getting lost, which he was very proud of, and half an hour later he fell into his huge bed.
So, this first day seemed to have been a success. At least he thought so? Okay, he got spit at and bitten, but apart from that it went relatively well. He kind of liked Jimin, too. He was cute. A brat, spoiled and a little aggressive, maybe, but also cute.
Maybe this would actually be fun. Maybe.
Hopefully.