Despite Jungkook’s claims to the contrary, Yoongi is not a dinosaur; he knows how Reddit works. 

For the most part, at least. He understands threads and how the posts are laid out, the abbreviations people use to provide context and ask questions. He’s had the opening line to his post done for the past twenty minutes. 

Yoongi taps his fingers lightly against the space button, considering how to continue. His laptop scalds his thighs through his jeans as he glances at the door, praying Hoseok doesn’t burst through it while he’s getting this out. It'd taken him long enough to sum it up in just a couple of sentences.

‘I (22m) have a crush on my roommate (21m). I can’t figure out if he actually likes me back or is just being friendly. 

Yoongi reads it back, pouts. 

‘Help.'

He sighs. He knows he needs to give more context, but it feels strange being so open about this on a website so huge, even anonymously. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t even be doing this at all; for all the struggle this is causing him, he’s mostly made his peace with the fact he’ll never be able to bring this up with Hoseok without falling to pieces. In all honesty, staying quiet seems better than the possibility of rejection, losing someone who has quite quickly become one of his best friends. Not to mention how much he’d hate to make Hoseok feel uncomfortable, maybe even guilty that his kind gestures had been so terribly misconstrued.

But then , Yoongi can imagine Jungkook chiding him, would it really be such a terrible misunderstanding? 

And that’s exactly where it gets so difficult. Because Yoongi has known touchy people, has known people who are free with their affections and good at taking care of people. What he hadn’t known before, at least not well enough to gauge this sort of thing, was Hoseok. Hoseok, who has rivalled every single other kind, affectionate, caring person he’s met, to the point Yoongi has questioned just how friendly he can consider their relationship. 

Which brings him back to his post. 

It’d been Jungkook’s idea, him being sick of Yoongi’s uncertainty when he has maintained the ‘he absolutely definitely without a doubt likes you’ stance since Yoongi had brought it up months ago. Ask a larger group, throw some more opinions into the mix and let outsiders help with sifting through his confusion was Jungkook’s advice when it became clear to him that Yoongi needed more convincing. 

Yoongi bites at his nails, still staring at the screen. He still feels it’s a little invasive, but then he doesn’t have to post it. Perhaps getting it out all in one go would help him assess it better, or relieve some tension, or something. 

Yoongi sighs once more, pulling his hand away from his mouth. Guess I should just start at the beginning , he thinks, beginning to type. 

‘Hyung.’

Yoongi makes a little noise to show he’s listening, not taking his eyes away from his textbook. He’s mere seconds away from understanding this concept, he knows it, just wishes the text weren’t so pretentious. It’s frying his brain, in all honesty. 

Hoseok’s studying too, a notebook and pen set down beside him where he’s sitting on the floor, back up against the sofa. He doesn’t seem too stressed, head lolling back onto the sofa cushions by Yoongi’s feet every so often to smile at him, but other than that, he hasn’t been too distracting. They’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but already being with Hoseok is easy, undemanding.  

‘I was thinking,’ Hoseok continues, head back at Yoongi’s feet again as he chews the tip of his pen, ‘now that we’re roommates, we should know each other’s food orders.’

‘Food orders?’ Yoongi scrunches up his face as he comes across yet another word he doesn’t know. He takes out his phone to search for the definition. 

‘Yeah, like our favourite foods from the take-out restaurants we like. So when we order food together, one person already knows what to get.’

Even in his studious haze, Yoongi can appreciate the sweetness of the gesture; Hoseok wanting them to grow closer as roommates. He supposes he’s not the easiest person to get along with, and Hoseok, in all his good-will, has been doing his best. He’s done his best too, of course; he likes Hoseok. A lot. But this last week of lectures really has been kicking his ass, it’s been all too easy to get stuck in his head about it. 

‘Sure, we can do that.’ 

Hoseok jumps up with the go-ahead, ripping a page from his notebook and handing it over. He passes Yoongi a pen too, then settles back down and makes his own list. Yoongi smiles at his eagerness, considering what he’ll write for himself. 

He spends about ten minutes on it, looking on Naver to find the take-out places he’s found he likes since arriving at college. The list isn’t long, mostly contains meat dishes. He considers maybe adding some variety, but then he supposes that defeats the purpose. 

Once happy with his choices, he goes hands the list back to Hoseok, though stops for a moment to watch Hoseok as he works on his own. He somehow looks smaller when he’s working on something, his body curling around the paper in his complete focus. His mouth, soft and pink as ever, is pulled into a little, concentrated frown, while his eyes, so often kind and relaxed, are scrunched as he writes. 

When he’d first met Hoseok, Yoongi had been taken aback a little by just how cute Hoseok was, in both senses of the word. Pretty face, good skin, nice body, soft hair, bright smile. His voice was a little high as he’d introduced himself to Yoongi, so nervous and unsure, which had seemed to contrast the confident, cool grace that he held himself with. 

After the initial jaw-drop at their meeting, Yoongi, of course, had been reluctant to acknowledge all of this in too much detail, all too careful not go down that road with his roommate. His best friend from home’s reaction to Hoseok hadn’t helped matters much; Jungkook had recorded himself wolf-whistling in response to a picture Yoongi had sent, followed by a series of lewd emojis. 

Still, Yoongi figures, he’s done well at ignoring what he has deemed the initial lust. Indeed, when their hands accidentally brush as they exchange lists, Yoongi doesn’t even blush. 

He smiles when he sees Hoseok’s paper, though, finding the list is decorated with little doodles of hearts and smiley faces.

‘Ah, hyung,’ Hoseok says, reading Yoongi’s. ‘I think I knew all these anyway. You really love barbeque, huh?’

Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘It’s good for you.’

‘Not sure about that one, hyung,’ Hoseok says, as he clicks around on his phone.  After a few more moments, Hoseok springs to his feet. ‘I’ll leave you to your work now. I gotta go meet some friends.’

Despite his need to get back to work, Yoongi can’t help his disappointment that Hoseok is leaving. It’s not like he really has time to hang out, probably couldn’t even risk watching a movie for fear that he’d completely give up on learning these concepts in favour of some action-packed blockbuster. Or, he supposes, more likely one of those sad, dramatic romance films that Hoseok likes to watch snuggled up in bed. 

Still, he likes working when Hoseok is around; somehow finds it easier when Hoseok is there to cheer him on whenever he throws his book down in frustration. Like a battery, Hoseok always seems to inject energy back into him.

Not that he can say any of this. They’re just roommates, after all, and it’s hardly fair to ask Hoseok to stick around just so Yoongi can get through this reading. So he waves him off, feeling his heart sink a little as he does. He shakes the feeling away; can’t find it within him to consider what it means right now.

Hoseok returns earlier than Yoongi had expected; less than an hour if he’s not mistaken. It’s been enough time for Yoongi to get thoroughly frustrated, but still, he’s persevering, though it’s taken him a while to pick up some resemblance to momentum.

As Hoseok shuffles in and kicks off his shoes by the door, Yoongi spots the paper bag he’s brought in with him, and for the first time since Hoseok had left, puts his book down.

‘Hey, thought you’d be gone longer. You okay?’

‘Mm?’ Hoseok says as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on his hook by the door. ‘Oh, yeah, fine. I brought dinner.’ He holds up the bag, before moving through the lounge area to the tiny kitchen at the other side of the room.

‘What?’ Yoongi says, turning in his seat to watch as Hoseok begins pulling food containers out of the bag and laying them across the counter. 

‘Dinner. I was gonna just order it, but then I saw the first place on your list was that restaurant who only does pick-up orders, and I figured it’d give you a chance to work in peace for a little while before we ate.’

‘You-’ Yoongi gets up from the low sofa and joins Hoseok in the kitchen, finds that Hoseok has indeed been to his favourite restaurant; their signature beef ribs sitting, steaming, before him in a foil container. ‘You got galbi.’

‘Of course, your favourite, right? You should eat them now, while they’re hot. I considered just dragging you to the restaurant so we could have proper barbeque, but then you seemed so lost in your studies I didn’t wanna disturb you.’  

Yoongi stares at the containers, touched. 

‘No excuses now, though, hyung, you gotta take a break and eat with me, okay? You need the rest, you’ve been so wound up all afternoon. And I treated, alright, so don’t try and pay me back.’ 

‘Seok…’ Yoongi suddenly finds himself unable to catch Hoseok’s eyes, feeling flushed at such a kind gesture. God, is he blushing? Why is he blushing?  

‘You’re welcome, hyung,’ Hoseok says, seeming to understand the effect he’s had. Or, perhaps not the entirety of it.

Even Yoongi can’t quite decipher that. 

To Yoongi’s relief, Hoseok doesn’t spend much more time on words, instead starts pulling out bowls, chopsticks and spoons. He plates up, sending Yoongi to clear the small coffee table. After a moment's thought, Yoongi packs his books back into his bag, ready now to retire for the evening, eat with Hoseok and try and unwind after the stress of the day.  

During this, he spares a glance as Hoseok, now the latter is occupied and not looking back at him. He’s humming something, shaking his ass a little as he sings, spooning rice into a bowl. He’s ridiculous really. Yoongi smiles. 

Yoongi flinches at the quick flash of light that streams into the room through the thin, useless curtains. He chews on his fingers, ignoring the pain when he catches a hangnail, and tries to calm himself by counting the time between the lightning flash and the crackle of thunder that follows. He really ought to be okay by now; it’s been stormy for three days. 

Another quick flash. 

Yoongi curls up on the sofa, burrowing his head under a cushion. He’ll never be okay with lightning. 

It’s not so much fear that drives the discomfort swirling around in his gut, but rather the anxiety. The intrusive unpredictability of storms is what really grinds him; no way to escape the sharp cracks of lightning intruding the room, the roll of thunder that rumbles in at it’s own leisure, so deep and full it sounds like it’s coming from the earth itself. He feels the same with fireworks, hates the way they pepper the sky like gunfire. It sets him on edge, makes him feel displaced and nervous and infinitely small, powerless. For no good reason, of course, but when did anxiety ever have a reason?

It’s been almost bearable the last few days, solely down to the fact that Hoseok has been here, keeping him company and generally taking his mind off it. He doesn’t like storms either, as Yoongi has found out. He’s jumpy, has been a lot more on edge than usual because of the weather. In a way, it’s been comforting, not being alone in the discomfort. He’s felt less embarrassed sharing his anxiety, because Hoseok gets it completely. 

They’ve been staying up talking a lot, lately, conversations that seem to just go on and on until they’re falling asleep right there in the living room. 

‘What do you love more than anything?’ 

‘Music, I think. Playing the piano.’

‘Yeah? I’ve never heard you play.’

‘I haven’t done it in a while.’

‘How come?’

‘School, I guess. Life.’

‘You miss it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’d like to hear you, hyung.’

‘Someday, maybe.’

Tonight, though, Hoseok is out with friends. Some bar his course friends have dragged him to, to celebrate someone’s birthday, or something. Yoongi had tried to listen, but had been too busy feeling a surge of disappointment that they wouldn’t be spending the evening together.

Yoongi sighs, picking himself up off the sofa and padding to the kitchen. The tv is on but he hasn’t really been watching it, just keeping it on as a brainless sound in the room. Background noise so he doesn’t feel totally alone, even if he is. Jungkook, his best friend and brother, for all intents and purposes, is out for the night and while he’d considered asking their neighbour Seokjin round, he knows his hyung has exams; he’d feel too guilty asking him to talk his ear off about nothing until the wee hours of the morning. 

He grabs another water from the fridge and all but throws himself back on the sofa with a large huff as he burrows back under the blankets. One of them smells like Hoseok, and he feels a little self-conscious as he presses his face up against it. 

Only just beginning to wonder if he might be able to fall asleep, two things spark Yoongi with surprise in quick succession. The first, another bolt of lightning, the second, the key turning in the door. He sits upright, breathing hard.

‘Hyung?’ comes Hoseok’s voice from the doorway, and Yoongi feels instant relief flooding through him. He watches Hoseok as he shakes off his umbrella out in the hall, then brings it inside and puts it down by the door. His hair is a little damp, and it’s curling around his forehead. ‘You alright?’

‘I-’ Yoongi swallows. ‘Yeah. Sorry, you just shocked me. I thought you were staying with your friend tonight, the one who lives by the bar?’ Yoongi checks the time on his phone. It’s barely gone ten. ‘Why are you home so early?’

Hoseok shrugs, moving through to the kitchen. ‘Just wanted to come back, wasn’t feeling it.’

‘Oh.’

‘You okay?’ Hoseok asks, coming back with his own bottle of water. ‘I was worrying about you.’ He says it casually enough, but still Yoongi can’t help the way his heart flutters at Hoseok’s concern.

‘I’m fine, I’m alright. Just a little… You know.’

Hoseok nods. He knows. Of course he does. ‘Well, I’m here now, okay, hyung?’ he answers, a hand reaching over to pat Yoongi’s thigh. ‘Don’t worry.’

Yoongi smiles, instinctively letting his own hand rest atop of Hoseok’s, tapping it to show his appreciation. He turns back to the tv, then suddenly a thought strikes him, and he turns back. 

‘Seok-ah…’

‘Mm?’ Hoseok is watching the tv, laughing at whatever is on. Yoongi isn’t even sure.

‘You didn’t come home just for me, right?’ He feels ridiculous as he says it. What a selfish, hopeful thought. 

To Yoongi’s surprise though, Hoseok’s answer is preceded by a hum, like he’s considering the question. ‘Let’s just say, here is the place I needed to be tonight. Or wanted to be. Both, actually.’ He thinks about it. ‘Yeah, both.’

‘Oh.’

Hoseok looks at him, smiling.

‘Okay?’ 

Yoongi adverts his eyes lest they give him away, turns back to the tv like he’s invested. It’s not long before he feels Hoseok curling up beside him. Not quite snuggled into him, but close enough that Yoongi feels him there, feels that he’s close and safe and not going anywhere. 

Outside, the storm battles on, inside, Yoongi can’t hear anything over the sound of his beating heart and Hoseok’s soft, lovely laughter. 

‘-And this is where I live!’

Yoongi straightens up as the door swings open and Hoseok directs his sister and her young daughter inside. He turns to offer a wave, though intends to retreat to his room once pleasantries have been exchanged. Hoseok has been anticipating their visit for weeks now, and the last thing Yoongi wants to do is impose in that. 

‘Oh! it’s nice, Hoseok-ah,’ Hoseok’s sister says, observing the place as Hoseok takes her coat. ‘No way near as dark as my dorm was. The natural light is nice.’

‘It’s a bit small, but we like it, right, hyung?’ Hoseok says, looking over to where Yoongi is sat on the sofa. ‘Hey, by the way.’

‘Hey,’ Yoongi says, feeling the tiniest bit awkward. 

‘Yoongi hyung, this is my noona, Dawon, and my niece, Yerim.’

Yoongi stands to greet them, his palms a little sweaty as they shake hands and bow their heads slightly. 

‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Dawon says, in a tone that Yoongi can’t quite work out. She looks a lot like Hoseok, face clear and pretty, her smile bright. Her nose has the same neat, sloping curve as Hoseok’s. Lucky genes, Yoongi supposes. 

‘You too,’ Yoongi says, truthfully. Right now, though, he can’t remember anything about what Hoseok has told him about her, can only focus on figuring out what Hoseok has been telling her about him. 

‘Say hello, Yerim,’ Dawon suddenly says, her small hand landing lightly on the top of the small girl’s head. 

Yerim, her long hair separated into pigtails, instantly hides behind her mother’s legs, and Hoseok laughs.

‘Aw, Yerim,’ he says, reaching down to pick up his niece and bringing him closer to Yoongi. She struggles a bit in his hold, but then settles her little arms around his neck, looking at Yoongi curiously. ‘This is my very special friend, Yoongi. He’s important to uncle, and he’s gonna come have lunch with us, so you have to be nice, okay?’ 

Yoongi’s chest gives a lurch. 

Very special friend. 

What the hell does that mean?

Yerim looks at Yoongi, considering. Yoongi attempts to make his face as non-threatening as possible, though whether he manages it, he isn’t sure. After a moment, Yerim does seem to settle somewhat, turning back to Hoseok and nodding, as if to say ‘he’ll do.’

‘He’s really nice, promise,’ Hoseok whispers to her, just loud enough for Yoongi to hear, before putting her back down. She immediately scurries back to her mother, who leans down to talk to her. 

‘Takes her a while to warm up to people,’ Hoseok explains.

‘It’s okay. Takes me a while too.’

‘Aw, hyung.’ Hoseok leans in closer to Yoongi, his voice quiet and teasing. ‘Didn’t take you long with me.’

‘That’s because you’re the sun, Seok-ah, staying cool in your general vicinity is near impossible.’

It takes Yoongi a second to realise what he’s said. Sure, given the context of the conversation, his choice of words kind of make sense, but still he feels he’s let on a little more than he should. Especially with Hoseok’s sister looking on at the pair of them. She’s standing up straight again now, arms crossed with an almost knowing smile on her face. 

Yoongi thinks he notices a blush rising in Hoseok’s cheeks, but with how suddenly self-conscious he is himself, it’s hard to look too long to check. 

‘Are we going to get a tour before we go to lunch, Hoseok-ah?’ Dawon says after a moment. 

‘Of course,’ Hoseok says quickly, the spring in his voice suddenly back. ‘My room is through that door, you can poke your head in and then we can go out to lunch. How’s italian sound for you, hyung? Noona said she’d treat, on the condition we fulfil her pasta cravings.’ 

‘I’m invited?’ 

‘Of course,’ Dawon says, quickly, ‘I wanna get to know the guy my brother has not stopped talking about for two months!’ 

Both Yoongi and Hoseok turn away from each other now, blushing profusely. 

The hill is steep and unforgiving, and Yoongi hates it. He hates how winded he gets by the time he’s at the top, hates how his feet ache and his thighs chafe and his chest burns. He hates the way it seems to tower over him when he’s gearing himself up for the climb. He can imagine it laughing at him when he has to take a break only a quarter way to the top. He hates this hill. 

Somehow, though, he hates the hill a little less when Hoseok is climbing it with him.

‘C’mon, hyung!’ Hoseok says, stopping a few paces ahead of Yoongi to allow him time to catch up. ‘Almost there.’

They’re about half-way up, have been taking it mostly slow because of Hoseok’s lack of stamina and Yoongi’s aforementioned hatred of this blasted walk. Hoseok makes it lighter, somewhat, telling jokes and stories that are easier to focus on than the strain in Yoongi’s back. It’s hard to talk back much, for how out of breath he is, but he finds it’s less embarrassing to be so exhausted at the exertion when you’re with a friend you can complain to. And Hoseok likes taking a leisurely pace, anyway. 

That is, of course, until he turns and spots the bus trundling up the hill behind them. Then it’s all fire and action, Hoseok practically bouncing to get to the stop, a mere few paces ahead of them, if they were on even ground. 

‘Hyung, we’re gonna miss it!’

‘We-’ Yoongi pants, clutching the stitch in his side as he attempts a fast walk. He can’t even be bothered to speak. ‘Next one?’

‘Next one isn’t for another half an hour!’ Curse his knowledge of bus timetables. ‘Hyung, c’mon, we can do this.’

‘I-’ Yoongi wants to stop. ‘No. I’m- No.’

‘Hyung,’ Hoseok whines. He’s out of breath himself, sweat is shining on his forehead from their attempt at a run that had tampered to a pathetic jog. 

‘Next one,’ he says, defiant. 

The feeling of stopping is wonderful, though he’s still seeing stars and the urge to throw up is pressing. The feeling of Hoseok’s hand suddenly in his own is a different feeling entirely. 

He doesn’t even catch Hoseok’s gaze before he’s being pulled along, practically dragged up the hill as he attempts to make his legs work again, something small in his mind telling, begging, pleading him to stop running, something much larger and harsher telling him to not let go of Hoseok’s hand. 

So he keeps tight hold, feels the acid rise in his throat as Hoseok gets him to the stop, just in time. Their sweaty hands just barely manage to stay together. 

They do, though, stay together. They stay together while they file in behind the lady carefully stepping onto the bus, stay together as Hoseok flashes his bus pass, hanging back for Yoongi to flash his. They stay together as they find a seat, go towards the back and sink down into the chairs to catch their breaths. 

Yoongi wonders if his breath will ever fully return. 

It’s only when the bus starts to move off that their hands fall apart, doing so naturally rather than with conscious effort. Yoongi stares down at where his palm is resting against his thigh, where Hoseok’s is resting against his, still so close together. He looks up at Hoseok, who smiles at him lightly as he nudges his shoulder with his own. 

‘Knew we could make it.’ He pulls out his earphones, selecting one of their shared playlists and offering a bud to Yoongi, who, still reeling, takes it. 

They’ve never held hands before. There’s never been a reason to. 

Yoongi puts the bud in his ear, feeling grateful at the sound of Epik High that he’s greeted with. He looks at Hoseok, who already knows him so well, feels so easy to him. There’s never been reason to hold his hand, but... 

Need there be?  

Yoongi clenches his fist and remembers the feeling of Hoseok’s slender fingers getting caught on the knots of his own more knobby digits, how easily they seemed to fit together, even when the force of running threatened to wrench them apart. He spares a quick glance at Hoseok. 

Perhaps not.

The first thing Yoongi notices as he opens his bleary eyes is that someone is carding their fingers through his hair. It’s a shock to his tired, barely-conscious system, but he can’t deny there’s comfort in it, so he doesn’t shift himself yet, instead half falls back to sleep as the fingers absently massage his scalp, rub the tips of his hair together and push the fallen hair back from his forehead. 

It’s Hoseok, he realises after a long, blissful moment, Hoseok’s fingers. Of course it is. 

Eyes more keen to be open by now, Yoongi takes in Hoseok’s room, where they’d been studying together before he’d apparently fallen asleep, and finds it bathed in a softer light than he remembers. It must be early evening by now. What time had he fallen asleep, he wonders, how long has Hoseok been stroking his hair? 

He shifts a little, under the guise of getting comfortable, finds his head is cushioned in what he assumes is Hoseok’s lap. He makes a small sound, one easy enough to get away as an unconscious, sleep-soaked one, and finds Hoseok doesn’t let up the touches. Instead feels the fingers move to lightly trace over the shell of his ear, tucking stray strands behind it with ease. 

He makes another noise, attempting to sound a little more awake this time, like he’s finally rousing from sleep. Hoseok’s hand stills, his open palm laid loosely over Yoongi’s neck, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to shift slightly. 

‘You awake?’ Hoseok asks, voice gentle and soothing. 

‘Mm.’ Yoongi isn’t sure whether he should get up, whether it’d be weird just to lie here for a little while longer.

‘You looked so peaceful, didn’t want to wake you.’ There’s a little pause, and then Hoseok’s hand is back, stroking through Yoongi’s hair again, though slower than before, more tentative. With this quiet permission, Yoongi stays put, now sighing freely at the feeling.

‘How long?’

‘Mm?’

‘How long have I been asleep?’

There’s a small shift as Hoseok picks up his phone to check. 

‘Maybe an hour?’

Yoongi makes a thoughtful noise. He may be pushing it, but the prospect of moving is so unappealing right now.

‘Go back to sleep, if you want, hyung.’

Yoongi’s heart sings at the suggestion, but it’s his head that overrules it when he remembers the textbook he’d fallen asleep to. He feels for it, finds it squashed between his torso and Hoseok’s soft bed sheets. Shifting himself slightly to pull it free, he sighs.

‘I should keep studying.’

Hoseok makes a noise. ‘You haven’t been sleeping well lately, hyung.’

Yoongi drops the book. His limbs feel heavy. Hoseok’s hand is still in his hair.

‘Just half an hour. Then I'll get you up, promise.’

Yoongi considers this, considers staying here, warm and safe and content in Hoseok’s lap for a little while longer. 

Hoseok curls a lock of Yoongi’s hair around his finger. 

‘I’ll even quiz you, later, if you want?’

It takes Yoongi about ten seconds to get back to sleep. 

The hug is a surprise. One second Yoongi is standing by the doorway, leaning up against the wall with arms crossed, the next Hoseok is pulling him in by the shoulders. 

Yoongi lets out a little yell of surprise, though quickly recovers himself when Hoseok gets his arms around Yoongi’s neck, nose burrowing itself just under his t-shirt. He smiles softly, letting his arms wind around Hoseok’s waist (his tiny waist. God, it’s so small) and letting his eyelids flutter closed.  

‘I’m gonna miss you, hyung,’ Hoseok says, with a sigh. He doesn’t move away from Yoongi to say it, so his voice is muffled. Yoongi doesn’t mind. 

‘I’ll miss you too, Seok-ah,’ he replies, meaning it. A few months ago they barely knew each other, funny to think now the prospect of a few weeks apart seems a little too lengthy to bear.

‘We’ll text, right?’ Hoseok plays with the fine hairs at Yoongi’s neck.

‘Sure we will.’ He gives Hoseok’s side a little squeeze. 

‘Good.’

Yoongi expects Hoseok to break the hug after this, though finds a kind of relief when he doesn’t. He remains still, not wanting to disturb the moment that Hoseok has initiated, forgetting instantly that Hoseok has a train to catch, that he himself ought to start packing soon. 

Instead, he lets himself enjoy the feeling of Hoseok’s warm body against his, the softness of his skin where the bottom of his t-shirt has ridden up a little, the tickle of Hoseok’s nose rubbing ever so gently against his neck. 

‘Always smell so good, hyung.’

A lurch in his chest.

‘I do?’

‘Mhm. Really good, really nice. Comforting, y’know? Like…’

‘Like?’

Hoseok burrows his face even closer, and if Yoongi’s nerve endings weren’t so acutely aware of everything in that precise moment, he might have just missed the tiny, precious kiss that Hoseok leaves just in the crook of where his neck swoops into his shoulder.

‘Like home.’

Oh. 

‘Oh.’ 

Hoseok clutches him a little tighter.

Yoongi sighs, finally closing his laptop and throwing himself back into bed. He’s been at home a mere few days and already he’s feeling restless, a little without purpose or motivation. His assessments are due in the new year, but he’d finished them before he left. He’d offered to help out at the restaurant, but his mother had forced him to take a break. He already wants to go back.

He turns in bed, looking at the wall ahead of him. 

He wants to go home. To Hoseok. 

It’s as if on cue, his phone beeping four times in quick succession. He reaches behind himself for it blindly, almost dropping it in the process. His eyes feel tired as he checks the screen. Maybe he should sleep soon. It’s early, but he’s so bored. 

Seok-seok-ah [20:45]:

How are you hyung?

I miss you (つд｀)

I miss the way u feel and smell

More hugs when we’re back pls (●´ω｀●)

With a warm blush in his cheeks, Yoongi types out a quick reply, then closes his eyes. Perhaps he should sleep, just to make the time go faster.

‘Hyung, you seriously don’t have to do this.’

Yoongi ignores him, sweeping the used tissues by Hoseok’s bedside into the waste bin with his hand through his sleeve. He’s still astounded by how little it bothers him, tidying the snotty tissues scattered around and emptying the silver metal bowl that Hoseok has been throwing up into for the past few days. 

‘I’m serious, it’s so gross. I can do it.’ Yoongi blocks his attempt to sit up with a hand on his chest. Not quite pushing, but with enough pressure to keep Hoseok lying in bed. 

‘Just let me do it, alright? It’s not a big deal, Seok-ah.’

Yoongi is pretty sure Hoseok is relieved to lie back down, even through his quiet mumbles. He’s had the flu before, knows the migraines that accompany the blocked nose, sore throat and general sluggishness, and he’s been feeling truly sorry for Hoseok. Not that he’s made a big show of it, of course, hasn’t wanted to embarrass Hoseok or make him feel pitiful. But it’s the least he can do to keep his room tidy, like he knows he likes, to cook for them both, keep him company when he isn’t sleeping his fever away. 

They’re quiet for a moment as Yoongi pulls a new tissue box from the bottom drawer of Hoseok’s bedside table and sets it within Hoseok’s reach. The jug of water he has next to it could do with topping up, he thinks, picking it up and turning to leave. 

He catches Hoseok’s eye as he moves, is a little startled to see Hoseok, not falling back asleep as he expected, but watching him. He raises an eyebrow in question, waiting for Hoseok to say something, but he simply shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips.

‘What?’

Hoseok shakes his head. 

Yoongi narrows his eyes. ‘Are you hungry? I can make something.’

‘I’m okay.’

‘Let me know, okay?’

Hoseok nods. 

Hoseok will not let him know, Yoongi knows this, he’d rather go hungry than be a burden.

And so Yoongi will cook dinner under the guise of being hungry himself, even when he isn’t, and will claim he made too much and offer a bowl or plate of whatever to Hoseok. Sometimes he’ll leave it, sometimes he’ll wolf it down like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, so Yoongi is careful every mealtime not to cook anything too rich or heavy. Lots of vegetables and spicy broths, plenty of fresh fruit for dessert. 

Yoongi is just cleaning the kitchen (since he’s had Hoseok on bedrest, he’s really risen to the challenge of household chores), deciding what to make for Hoseok, when there’s a knock at the door. He knows who it is before he’s even moved to answer it, simply by the rhythm of it. 

Sure enough, it’s Seokjin shining smile he sees when he opens the door, holding a large pot in his oven-gloved hands.

Hoseok and Yoongi had befriended Seokjin, the resident advisor for their accommodation, pretty quickly. Whilst he’s friendly with most residents (the more reclusive ones tending to avoid his activities and events), he’s admitted to them both how he favours them. 

‘Hyung, hey.’

‘How’s the patient?’ Seokjin asks, when Yoongi steps aside to let him in. 

‘He’s alright. Says he’s less nauseous, hasn’t vomited today. But the fever is still bad, and he can barely get out of bed without collapsing.’

Seokjin makes a sad little noise, moving into the kitchen to set the pot on the stove. Yoongi smiles at the kindness, the casualness of it all as Seokjin starts getting bowls out of the cupboards. 

‘You’re gonna wanna heat that through a little before serving, shouldn’t take long.’

‘Thanks, hyung.’ 

Seokjin takes a wooden spoon from the cutlery jar to stir whatever’s in the pot, before turning back to face him, looking serious. 

‘You been okay looking after him? You know I can take a shift, if you have work to be getting on with or whatever.’

‘I’m fine, hyung. It’s not that difficult, I still have time to get my work done in between looking after him.’

Seokjin raises an eyebrow.

‘He’s honestly not that needy. Just a bit stubborn.’

‘You’re one to talk. Hey, hyung.’

Both Yoongi and Seokjin turn at Hoseok’s voice, jumping a little at his sudden entrance in his doorway. He looks even more flushed out of bed, his hair a little damp where it’s been hanging over his sweaty forehead. Out in the light of the main room, Yoongi can see how red his nose is, raw from his blowing it. Even with a fond smile on his face, he looks utterly exhausted. Yoongi feels the urge to push him right back into his room and bundle him in blankets. 

‘Hey, Hobi,’ Seokjin says, ‘I just came to drop this off quickly, I wasn’t gonna get you out of bed!’

‘Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to be up. Hyung has me bed bound, won’t let me out of his sight!’

Seokjin sniggers, eyeing Yoongi’s blush. 

‘I just want you to get better,’ Yoongi mumbles, picking up the refilled water jug. 

‘Aw, hyung, I know,’ Hoseok says, catching Yoongi in a half-hug as he attempts to pass him. ‘He’s been great, hyung. So good to me.’

‘It’s not a big deal,’ Yoongi repeats, even more bashful. 

‘Isn’t he a good hyung?’ Hoseok says to Seokjin, squeezing Yoongi a little tighter in his arms. Yoongi can’t help but feel the warmth from Hoseok’s skin on his own. 

Seokjin observes them, his smile unreadable. He looks at Yoongi, almost knowingly, as he nods. ‘The best.’

‘Will you stay for dinner, hyung?’

‘No, no, I ought to go. I have an assessment due. I just wanted to see how you were, and bring you the stew.’

Yoongi slips away when Hoseok releases him, leaving them to chatter. 

Slinking into Hoseok’s room, he sets the water jug down beside the tissue box. He can’t work out why he feels so hot all of a sudden, worries that he’s perhaps caught Hoseok’s flu. He shakes the worry away, decides to quickly change Hoseok’s sheets instead, now he’s got the opportunity. 

Hoseok is seeing Seokjn out of the door by the time Yoongi comes out, holding Hoseok’s dirty sheets in his arms ready to go in the laundry basket in the bathroom. 

‘See you, Yoongi. Remember my offer, okay?’ Seokjin says, looking at him earnestly.

‘Sure, hyung,’ Yoongi replies, going into the bathroom. ‘Thanks for the stew. See you.’ 

He hears the door click shut, and then moments letter he hears Hoseok come into the bathroom. 

‘You didn’t need to change my sheets,’ he moans.

‘If it makes you feel any better,’ Yoongi says, turning to face him, ‘I’m leaving the dirty ones for you to wash when you’re better. I hate laundry.’

Hoseok snorts in response and then, to Yoongi’s surprise, suddenly whips of his shirt and throws it on top of his dirty sheets.

‘Think I’ll take a shower. I feel gross.’

Yoongi goes to make a response, but suddenly all of his wit is lost, his mind instead occupied on the half-naked Hoseok before him. Whilst he’s still slight as Yoongi has always considered him, Hoseok is somehow more well-sculpted, almost delicate, than Yoongi could ever have imagined. Sharp shoulders flowing into small but strong, sturdy arms, a waist so small Yoongi can’t help but imagine his hands on them, pulling Hoseok into him, their lips-

‘Hyung?’

Yoongi blinks, suddenly terrified he’s been caught out.

‘Yeah?’

‘It is a big deal, actually. You taking care of me. I want you to know it means a lot to me.’

Yoongi shrugs, relieved Hoseok hadn’t noticed his gawping. ‘You’d do the same for me.’

And then Hoseok makes it infinitely impossible to think again, stepping forward and clutching Yoongi’s hand in his own. ‘Yeah. I would.’

While it’s a nice feeling, Hoseok’s hand sliding against his, Yoongi is painfully aware of the circumstances, of the thoughts that he’s only just managing to stomp down now Hoseok is so close, so bare and open to him. 

‘If I didn’t feel so awful, I think I could say I’m enjoying playing doctors and nurses with you,’ Hoseok says, all too suddenly slipping away from him, turning towards the shower, not even pausing before he shucks off his bottoms. His ass is as toned as his stomach.

Oh god, his ass is as toned as his stomach. 

Yoongi leaves the room quickly, makes several attempts in not thinking about it, any of it, and fails most of them. 

Though he knows he’s being childish, Yoongi slams the door behind him to let out his frustrations. He doesn’t want to cry, he so badly does not want to cry about this.

He finds the living room and kitchen devoid of Hoseok, which for the very first time since they moved in together, he feels glad of. He doesn’t feel ready to talk about it yet, shame, embarrassment and irritation at his own failure burned into him too recently. He takes off his coat, attempts to hang it by the door. He almost bursts into tears when it falls to the ground. As he picks it up with a little more aggression than he intends, he vaguely picks up the sound of music playing from Hoseok’s room. He’s in, then. Yoongi will just have to retreat to his own room. 

His room is only just lit with the light from outside, and he doesn’t bother turning on the light. He plugs in his phone, sets his bag on his desk. He cleans a little, little meaningless tasks that he probably wouldn’t think about doing otherwise, just attempting to find something to occupy him. He takes old sticky notes off the wall, arranges the pins on his cork board. He moves the pencil pot to the other side of the desk, then decides it looked better where it was and moves it back.

No real chores to do, he takes a graphic novel from his shelf. It’s a relatively new one, not one he’s managed to get around to reading yet. He flicks through it, legs up on the table, but his eyes quickly grow tired and reject the idea of focusing, so he sighs, smacking the book down on the table. 

Crawling into bed is a small comfort, the first of the day. Annoyingly, though, he feels a little pathetic doing it. Stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers to take a nap straight after school is something he did in high school. He ought to be up now, getting things done. He’d planned to go to the library after class, he’d wanted to go to the record store on his way home, then go and buy groceries for a nice dinner. But his brain feels too spent for any of that, his heart too heavy. He’s being stupid, he knows it. Being irrational and unfair, but what can he do? What’s the point, anyway?

With Hoseok’s music playing softly next door, Yoongi finally lets the tears come. 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and groans a little when he finally wakes, feeling disoriented and more tired than he had been before he’d gotten into bed. He checks the time on his phone, finding it’s already eight o’clock. That’s the day gone, then. He’ll probably just stay in bed for the rest of it. 

Also on his phone are a number of texts. One from Namjoon, asking why he wasn’t at the library. One from Jungkook, asking him to check out his new vlog. One from his mum, just checking in. Quite a few from Hoseok, asking whether he’s home yet, whether he’s okay, what he wants for dinner. Yoongi puts his phone down and listens. No music next door. Yoongi wonders if he’s gone out tonight, feels himself sag a little in disappointment. 

It’s short-lived, though, since a few seconds later there’s a light knock at the door. 

‘Hyung?’ comes Hoseok’s voice. Like it’s read his thoughts and sought him out, coming to assure him I’m here. Hoseok is here. 

‘Hey. Yeah, come in.’

Hoseok enters, looking a little sheepish when he sees Yoongi curled up in bed, lights off. 

‘Are you okay? Were you sleeping?’

‘Mm. Just woke up, s’okay.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay.’ Hoseok fiddles with his hands. ‘I was worried when you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you come home around five but didn’t wanna bother you if you didn’t feel like company. Are you alright?’

‘I’m-’ How is he? He checks in with himself, finds that while the disappointment from earlier has lifted somewhat thanks to sleep, it’s still weighing a little too heavy for comfort. He turns onto his side, facing Hoseok more fully. He’s looking at Yoongi softly, and he’s all Yoongi wants to see right now. 

His voice feels small when he answers. ‘I’ve been better, Seok.’

‘Oh, hyung.’ 

Yoongi makes a pitiful noise.

‘Do you need a cuddle?’

Yoongi doesn’t even think about it before he lifts the edge of his duvet, inviting Hoseok in. Usually, his bed is a private space, one he doesn’t like to share, but this is Hoseok. Hoseok is just… He’s different. 

He’s quick to crawl into the bed, letting Yoongi shift to make room before he curls up in front of him so they’re face to face, one arm each tucked under their heads and their knees brushing together slightly. It’s then Yoongi remembers that he’s just wearing underwear from the waist down, and though it’s nothing Hoseok hasn’t seen before (and it’s not like he hasn’t seen Hoseok in a lot less), it still sends a little shiver down his neck to have Hoseok so close when he’s like this. 

He wonders if Hoseok is thinking the same thing as he shifts to get comfortable. After a moment, he chances an arm around Yoongi’s middle, pulling himself a little closer to Yoongi’s body, and Yoongi instinctively reaches out to hold it.

‘You wanna talk about it?’ Hoseok’s face is so close Yoongi feels the breath on his face. He instantly wishes his face were in Hoseok’s chest instead, or literally anywhere else. His eyes trail downward, looking at nothing in particular.

‘School sucked.’

‘Mm?’

Hoseok tucks some hair behind his ear, before returning his hand to Yoongi’s waist. 

‘I got a shitty grade.’

‘Oh.’ He sounds genuinely upset. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine. It’s like… It’s not even a big deal,’ Yoongi says with a light laugh. ‘It doesn’t even matter.’

‘'Course it matters, hyung. You’re upset about it, that’s okay.’

‘I dunno. I just-’ Yoongi sighs, considering everything he’s been feeling for the last few weeks. ‘I feel like I’m not managing right now, you know? Like I’m just not getting along like I should and want to. It sucks.’

Hoseok rubs his thumb against Yoongi’s side, and though it’s through his t-shirt, Yoongi feels the warm touch.  ‘I understand.’ 

Yoongi looks up, heart fluttering at the tender look Hoseok is giving him, waiting for him to continue. ‘You ever feel like you’re just… running on automatic? And you know you wanna do super well and thrive and succeed but instead all you can do is barely get by? Like, the bare minimum?’ 

Hoseok nods. ‘I feel like that a lot. Like treading water.’

He smiles as he says it, and Yoongi furrows his brow in question.

‘I don’t know why I said that, to be honest. I can’t swim. It just sounded right.’

Both he and Yoongi fall into giggles at the statement, probably laughing more than is warranted, but Yoongi can’t quite let up once he’s started. He feels almost light again, feels more awake than he has done all day, somehow. Still laughing, he rolls himself closer to Hoseok, manoeuvring himself so he can burrow his face in Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok responds accordingly, his chin resting on the top of Yoongi’s head, one arm tightening around Yoongi enough to finally constitute a cuddle, the other pulling him closer by the shoulders.

Yoongi sighs deeply, relieved. Warm. 

‘It’s okay to not be flying high all the time, you know,’ Hoseok says. Yoongi feels his lips brush the top of his head lightly, then swears he feels a kiss laid there. ‘It’s okay to just… run on automatic. Sometimes you gotta let your batteries charge, sometimes you gotta take some time to be yourself again, to get back on top.’

‘Mm.’ Yoongi kind of wants Hoseok’s hand in his hair again. Another kiss perhaps.

They lay there for a while, mostly quiet but for the sounds of their breathing, the muffled sounds of their neighbours talking. It’s hard to bring himself out of it, truth be told, he almost falls back to sleep. But he’s painfully aware of the time, how much of Hoseok’s he’s taking up. As much as he wishes he could keep Hoseok here forever, the selfishness of the idea isn’t lost on him.

‘Do you have work to do tonight?’ he asks, trying to sound casual, lest it sound like he’s trying to kick Hoseok out. 

‘Yeah,’ Hoseok says. Yoongi’s heart sinks. ‘Not right now though. Right now I just wanna hold you.’ A beat. ‘That okay?’

Yoongi rubs his nose against the hollow of Hoseok’s throat, gratitude and warmth taking hold of his chest and allowing it to relax again. He’s here. He’ll stay. ‘Yeah. That’s okay.’

‘What if he doesn’t like me?’ 

Yoongi looks at Hoseok with a raised brow. Jungkook isn’t due to call for another ten minutes, but Hoseok has been fretting for the past hour, since Yoongi had told him Jungkook wanted to meet him over facetime. ‘Why wouldn’t he like you?’

Hoseok shrugs, curled over one side of the sofa. There’s a little pout on his face. It’s cute. 

‘What’s up, Seok-ah?’

‘Nothing,’ Hoseok says into a cushion. 

Yoongi pauses, playing with his phone in his hand. After a moment of simply watching Hoseok stare into space, almost seeing the cogs turning in his head, Yoongi reaches over with his foot and lightly kicks Hoseok’s thigh to get his attention. 

‘You’re all worried for nothing, you know. Jungkook can be really shy at first, he might not be super friendly, but he rarely dislikes anyone. And he’s going to love you, I know it.’

This visibly cheers Hoseok a little, but not as much as Yoongi had hoped. He has to admit he’s feeling a little nervous himself, his best friend of seventeen years and his roommate who is growing to be just as important to him interacting for the first time is quite big. 

In truth, he’d been putting it off when Jungkook had finally said he wanted to meet the guy that Yoongi kept talking about; silly, irrational thoughts swirling around in his head whenever he considered it. What if Jungkook doesn’t like Hoseok, what if Hoseok doesn’t like Jungkook? What if they like each other so much they decide to ditch the deadweight between them, namely Yoongi, and become best friends themselves.

Stop it , he tells himself when his brain starts working on the ideas again. Now you’re being stupid. 

Luckily, Hoseok is there to bring him away from the thoughts, his voice ever tender and careful. ‘He’s your best friend in the world, right?’

‘He is,’ Yoongi says, nodding.

He’s known Jungkook since the kid was born, pretty much. Even though he was quite a bit older, they’d always seemed to just get along so easily. Jungkook had followed Yoongi around like a puppy the minute he was able, and Yoongi had liked having someone around who admired him so much, someone he could talk to, someone who really respected him, and who he respected in return. It’s a little like how he’s come to feel about Hoseok, though with one, considerable difference.

He wants to smile at Hoseok’s timid expression, but doesn’t want him to think he’s making fun, so he keeps his face neutral as Hoseok continues.

‘That’s why I just really want him to like me, hyung,’ Hoseok admits in a quiet voice. 

Yoongi’s heart pangs with something- What? Hopeful? Curious? He wants to ask why, why his friends are so important to Hoseok, why he’s gotten himself into such a nervous state over this, but then his phone is ringing, and Hoseok is stressing all over again, jumping in and out of shot of his camera.

‘Hoseok, sit still,’ Yoongi says, trying to pull him closer as he presses answer. Hoseok immediately stills as Jungkook’s face pops into view, Yoongi’s hand coming to rest on his thigh naturally. 

‘Hi, hyung,’ Jungkook says, seeming pretty chill in comparison to Hoseok, who is practically vibrating against Yoongi’s side.

‘Hey,’ Yoongi says, feeling a rush of excitement. They haven’t spoken on the phone for a long time, neither of them having much of a love for it, and Jungkook hasn’t been able to visit yet. He’s missed him a lot, he realises.

‘Your dark circles look really bad,’ Jungkook comments, squinting at his phone like he’s trying to get a better look. 

Yoongi frowns. On second thoughts, maybe not that much. 

‘You’re a brat.’

Jungkook giggles. ‘Hello, Hoseok-ssi!’

Hoseok bats his head closer to Yoongi’s. Yoongi tries not to flush when their foreheads knock together. ‘Hi! It’s good to meet you.’

‘You too. Yoongi talks about you all the time! He says that-’

‘Anyway,’ Yoongi says quickly, tugging the phone away from Hoseok, ‘I think we should-’

But Hoseok is quick to respond, following the phone to stay in shot as he cuts across Yoongi in an excited voice. ‘Oh really? He talks about you all the time too, what does he say about me?’

Yoongi rolls his eyes, let’s Hoseok have his phone when he realises neither he nor Jungkook are going to give up, and slumps to the side, quite happy to listen to his two favourite people talking about him with affection in their voices. 

Hoseok and Jungkook hit it off just as much as Yoongi had hoped for. They talk a lot, though not so familiarly that Yoongi feels inclined to give in to his paranoia; Jungkook is still a mostly reserved kid, and Hoseok seems to respect that as much as Yoongi knew he would. 

Mostly, they talk about Yoongi, tease him in a way that makes him feel loved and included, rather than singled out and upset. Every so often Hoseok will say something really nice about him, bark about what a good roommate he is or how well he takes care of him, and bring his arm around Yoongi’s shoulder to pull him in and show off his blush to Jungkook. Everytime Jungkook sniggers knowingly in response. 

Little shit always knows too much , Yoongi thinks.

By the time they’re off the call, Hoseok is already talking about how much he likes Jungkook, how much he’d like to have him come to stay with them. He’s still thinking out loud about introducing him to Seokjin, and what they could all do together in a weekend, when Jungkook texts Yoongi. 

Kid [19:32]:

he definitely likes you, hyung

Yoongi locks his phone, biting his lip to keep from smiling. 

Valentines rolls around like a punch to Yoongi’s gut. He’s usually mostly indifferent to the whole thing, but this year it’s like the holiday is just begging to be acknowledged. From the tacky pink banners around campus, to the crudely cut out hearts (‘made with love’ by none other than Seokjin) on the accommodation notice board. It’s even taken over Yoongi’s favourite coffee shop; foamy hearts on top of lattes, little paper cupids dangling from the ceiling.

It’s over one of these lattes (Yoongi hates them on an aesthetic basis but can’t deny how delicious they are), sitting under two obnoxiously low-hanging cupids, that Hoseok pops the question.

‘Hey, hyung, be my valentine this year?’

Yoongi looks up from his notes, trying to smooth out his face before Hoseok reads the almost fearful joy in it.

‘W-what?’

‘Be my valentine.’ He’s giving Yoongi one of those sweet smiles. It could be almost teasing, but it’s far too earnest for that. 

‘Why?’

‘Do I need a reason? I just figured, if you weren’t doing anything, we could hang out? Watch a movie, pop some popcorn? A Hobi and Yoongi date.’

Date. 

‘Uh, sure, Seok. I guess.’

A Hobi and Yoongi date.

‘Yeah? Unless you have plans, or- Were thinking of making plans? With someone else, I mean. I don’t want you to waste your valentines on-’

‘No, Seok, seriously,’ Yoongi says quickly. ‘I just- I’m not used to celebrating the holiday but… I’d like to. With you.’ 

Who else could there be?

Hoseok smiles into his tea and, unless Yoongi is mistaken- oh, how he hopes he isn’t - there’s a trace of something shy about it, something so quietly pleased it seems too innocent a moment to witness. Yoongi grips the handle of his cup a little tighter, almost smiling himself as he looks back down at his notes.

‘What day is his valentines again?’

‘Mm, Tuesday. I think.’

‘Then your birthday on Saturday?’ he says, trying to sound casual. 

‘You remembered?’ Hoseok sounds gleeful.

Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully. ‘Of course I did.’ He has a small get-together planned. Nothing huge, but enough fuss that Hoseok will hopefully be happy. He’d told Yoongi only a few weeks ago, how he’d never seen the day as anything special, which made sense to Yoongi on the one hand, but had stung him on the other. Of course it was special. Hoseok’s special day. 

‘Ah, I chose my valentine well, huh? Ok,’ Hoseok downs the rest of his tea as Yoongi tries to recover his composure over being referred to as Hoseok’s valentine. He wants to pout when Hoseok gets up to leave. ‘I gotta run. You wanna get dinner together later? I’m craving pho.’

‘Sure. I’m free after five, could meet you at that vietnamese place near campus?’ 

‘Great! It’s a date. See you, hyung.’

It’s a date.

It’s a date It’s a date It’s a date.

In truth, Yoongi may have been able to completely forget his birthday this year. At least, the few quiet moments he has once he wakes up aren’t full of ideas about birthday cakes or presents. He’s more concerned with the reading he hasn’t done for his seminar later in the day, and trying to remember whether he put the leftovers from dinner in the fridge last night before he went to bed. 

His mind is just on other, more mundane things than his birthday when Hoseok bursts in, hair tousled like he’s only just rolled out of bed. 

‘Wakey, wakey, birthday hyung!’ 

Yoongi pushes his face under his pillow quickly. Usually, he gets at least a few minutes to make himself look presentable in the morning before he permits Hoseok to see him, but this is a sneak attack. He hadn’t even knocked. 

‘Aw, is someone sad about turning twenty-two today?’ Yoongi feels the bed dip where Hoseok sits upon it. He scoots up close to Yoongi’s body.

Yoongi grumbles. 

‘I see. So you don’t want your present, huh?’

Yoongi can’t help but peek at that, just enough to see Hoseok’s face. He’s grinning. ‘You got me a present?’

‘Of course. You have to get up for it, though, hyung,’ he says, dragging the covers from Yoongi’s body. Yoongi instinctively curls in on himself, thankful he'd fallen asleep in boxers and a t-shirt the night before, rather than his usual nakedness. 

‘All the way up,’ Hoseok adds, still smiling, when Yoongi removes the pillow from the top of his head and sits up in bed. 

Yoongi groans again, falling back against the pillow. ‘Why? It’s my birthday .’

Hoseok giggles at that, reaching out his hand to smooth Yoongi’s hair down gently, brushing his fingers through it. Yoongi’s instincts tell him to close his eyes, fall back to sleep slowly, softly, but he can’t quite look away from Hoseok now. His eyes, full of sweet kindness, stare right back at him. 

‘How are you so cute in the mornings, hyung, huh? Haven’t even showered yet and you look…’

‘Mm?’ Yoongi feels his nerves tingle. 

‘Adorable,’ he finishes, voice a little hesitant, like he’s not sure whether Yoongi will tell him off or not. 

With his insides currently yelling, Yoongi can’t find enough words to scold him, so he simply nudges him with his leg instead, hiding his blush in his hands. He’s a little grateful, but a whole lot more disappointed, when Hoseok gets up from the bed. 

‘Present time, hyung. Up you get. I’m making breakfast too. Come on.’

He’s halfway to the door when Yoongi peeks out from behind his hands. ‘It’s in the living room?’

Hoseok nods, smiling as he ducks out of the door. ‘I’m going on snooze for eight minutes and then I’m coming back to get you up myself.’

‘Like you could lift me!’

‘Don’t make me try!’

Sniggering to himself at the prospect, Yoongi allows himself two more minutes before he pulls himself out of bed. He checks his phone, smiling at Jungkook’s messages, sent precisely at 12am. 

Kid [00:00]

happy birthday grandpa hyung 

Can i borrow some money now ur old 

Jkjk

Seriously have a good day

I miss you 

Me [08:16]

Thanks, kook

Miss you too

He stretches, his own loose definition of stretching, at least, and debates getting dressed or not. Figuring it likely that Hoseok will film him opening his present, he opts to chuck on a pair of sweatpants.

Hoseok is singing in the kitchen, making coffee, when Yoongi comes out. He kind of needs to piss, but he gets distracted when he sees the large, crudely wrapped package that’s sitting right in front of the sofa. The paper, obviously hastily wrapped around the present, is bright pink. Yoongi snorts.

‘Nice wrapping.’

Hoseok jumps. ‘I wasn’t going to wrap it, but then Seokjin said last night that I had to wrap it, and gave me the paper he had leftover from his niece’s birthday. Although I see no issue with pink wrapping.’

‘No, no, me neither. It’s very pretty.’

Hoseok smiles. ‘Okay, go on. Open it, I can’t contain my excitement any longer.’

Yoongi approaches the gift, surveys it before he gets his hands on it. It’s huge, bigger than he even realised now he can see the dimensions, and it makes him pause.

‘Seok-’

Hoseok is already sitting himself down on the sofa, two cups of coffee in his hands, as he interrupts Yoongi with a practiced ‘just open it, hung, no stressing about the size or price.’

He puts down the mugs of coffee, and, as Yoongi expected, pulls out his phone and puts it at him. 

With a scrunch of his nose, Yoongi finally settles in front of the present and begins to tear off the wrapping. He realises it almost immediately, the second he sees the flash of black and white keys.

‘Hoseok-’

‘Shh,’ Hoseok makes a motion with his free hand, ‘keep going.’ 

Yoongi’s fingers feel a little shaky as he tears the remaining paper away, a little slower now as he works to reveal the electronic keyboard before him. It’s simple, sturdy, with a stand attached to the back for sheet music. He fingers the keys with some hesitation, finds there’s some weight to them that alludes to it not being one of the cheaper models.

His mouth parts but no words come out, can’t believe Hoseok’s done this, how has he-

‘Is it okay? You said you hadn’t played in a while, and I still haven’t heard you, but I didn’t know if maybe you wouldn’t want a-’

‘Are you kidding?’ Yoongi looks at Hoseok, finds the look of hesitation painted there. ‘Hoseok, this is beautiful. How did you- I mean, I know you said, but- How-’

‘I worked some overtime,’ Hoseok says with a shrug, ‘it’s not a big deal.’

Yoongi looks at him with uncertainty, suddenly feels bad that Hoseok has spent what is probably more than a student can justify.

‘You’re worth it hyung,’ Hoseok says, seriously. ‘I just wanted to make you happy.’

Yoongi manages to convince him he is, even through the quiet tears.

Yoongi is lost. 

Or, not exactly lost. Drunk, definitely. And he’s less than half certain exactly which club he’s in now, had lost track after the third or fourth relocation, the seventh or eighth drink.  

By definition, then, he’s only kind of lost. Lost, but Hoseok is there. Hoseok is definitely there, in front of him, behind him, to the side of him. He keeps moving, dancing, gliding around him. But he doesn’t have to look far to feel Hoseok’s presence somewhere close to him, through a blur of a smile or a giggle in his ear.

They’re mostly doing their own thing in the middle of the dance floor, dancing by their own definitions, keeping close, checking for one another as every new song plays. Something in the top 40 is playing now, Yoongi thinks. He doesn’t like it. Hoseok keeps mouthing the lyrics at him when they catch each other’s eyes, smirks when Yoongi can only watch him in return. 

Yoongi isn’t awful at dancing, but he rarely does it willingly. He needs the confidence that alcohol, and Hoseok’s encouragement, gives him. Both are necessary to get him on a dance floor of any sort. Hoseok knows this. He keeps grinning at Yoongi like he’s so happy he came out tonight. 

‘I’m so happy you came out tonight!’ Hoseok shouts, confirming the fact as he sweeps effortlessly towards Yoongi to grab him round the waist and press them up close together. How does he do that , Yoongi wonders. How does one even sweep.

‘How’d y’sweep?’ he manages to get out, slurring the question right into Hoseok’s ear.

Hoseok scrunches his face, trying to listen. The song changes. Something a little slower. The kind of song that makes drunk Hoseok all loose and sexy. 

‘You sorta- The way you move.’ Yoongi tries to demonstrate, but Hoseok keeps tight hold of him, like he doesn’t want to let him get too far. He’s babbling anyway, he doesn’t really have a point. He loops his arms around Hoseok’s neck, lets Hoseok guide him as they begin to move in time with each other.

‘Dance with me,’ Hoseok says, hot, tipsy breath tickling Yoongi’s ear. 

Yoongi nods. Keeps nodding. Hoseok joins in, follows Yoongi’s head with his own, trying to keep up the eye contact. His hands are firm on Yoongi’s waist. Yoongi kinds of want them lower. Would it be weird to ask? 

They keep dancing. It’s nice. Good. Not quite the dancing Hoseok does, all swiftness and sharpness. It’s softer, woozier. A couple of times Yoongi feels like he might fall back, but Hoseok keeps tight hold, keeps pulling them closer, chest to chest. Yoongi tightens his arms around Hoseok’s neck, can’t help it. Their faces are so close. 

‘Hyung, you-’

Their foreheads knock together. Yoongi’s eyes keep fluttering closed, land right back on Hoseok when he opens them again.

‘You’re a good dancer.’

Yoongi snorts. Hoseok is drunk. Hoseok doesn’t know what he’s saying.

‘You feel good.’

He has no idea.

‘You look like you want to kiss me.’ 

Yoongi stills a little, but Hoseok keeps him moving. He’s been caught out. Is it possible? He looks at Hoseok, eyes more open and alert than they’ve been all night. Do you know the half of how much I want to kiss you? 

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ Hoseok says. Drunk. He’s so drunk. 

He’s drunk, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying.

I wouldn’t mind. 

Yoongi glances at the screen, the cursor blinking at him. It’s the latest development; the words that, when recounted to Jungkook, had finally sparked the urgency to know . To know for sure. 

How does he feel about me?

Yoongi has admit, as he looks at the screen now, there have been plenty of instances that have very much hinted at the possibility of Hoseok feeling that way for him, and there’s even more besides them all that he’s probably forgetting. Almost every day for the last eight months, it feels like, something seemingly small and insignificant has happened, has made Yoongi’s heart race, signalled to him that maybe there’s something he needs to do about this. 

It seems clear to him, now. 

The revelation is met with the door opening. Hoseok, on cue as ever, shuffles his way in and grins at Yoongi in quiet greeting. Yoongi closes his laptop quickly, hoping the action doesn’t appear too suspicious.

‘Hey,’ Yoongi says. He pauses. ‘Hey, you wanna go to dinner with me? Somewhere nice?’

Hoseok, half in the process of taking off his jacket, stops abruptly. Almost immediately, he smiles. ‘Sure! What’s the occasion?’

Pushing the laptop onto the sofa and rising to meet Hoseok at the door, Yoongi smiles. ‘I just want to treat you,’ he says, casually enough. 

Even as he tries to be cool and collected, Yoongi can’t help blushing when Hoseok grabs his coat off the hook for him, holding it up so he can get his arms through the sleeves. His hands linger on Yoongi’s shoulders for a second, his thumbs ever so gentle rubbing his neck. Yoongi leans into it, feels his back hit Hoseok’s chest ever so slightly, remembers how good it felt in the club to be so close, how nice Hoseok’s hands feel all over him, how Hoseok looks at him always…

He whips around, finds what he already knows is there; Hoseok, warm, loving Hoseok, staring back at him with a soft, almost dazed smile. His hands drop to the side, and Yoongi brings one of his own just close enough to graze Hoseok’s fingers. 

‘Hyung?’

Yoongi wants to kiss him.

‘You look like…’

You look like you want to kiss me.

Yoongi feels knots in his tummy. 

I wouldn’t mind. 

It’s an inspired decision, leaning in to kiss Hoseok’s cheek. It’s not like he diverts it, not like he misses his mark. The cheek just seems easier, for now, like a lesser territory to conquer, to master, to completely fall in love with. Not that he doesn’t, of course, because immediately after he does it, he finds himself wanting to lay a thousand more. 

The pink plush that follows it only heightens this want. 

‘What was that for?’ Hoseok asks, and Yoongi is relieved to note that he doesn’t lean away. If anything, he leans closer, keeping his voice quiet, like they’re whispering. 

There are a lot of answers, but Yoongi simply shrugs. ‘Just felt like it.’

‘Oh.’ Hoseok smiles. ‘Think you’ll feel like it again?’

The knot tickles, tightens, twists. 

‘I think so. Probably.’

‘Oh,’ Hoseok repeats. He steps even closer. Their hands brush more firmly against each other, and Hoseok’s pinky loops around Yoongi’s. ‘Okay.’

And then it’s Hoseok landing the kiss on Yoongi, square on the mouth. Whether he’s missed his mark or not, Yoongi doesn’t know. But he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he presses into it. His lips, soft as Yoongi ever imagined them and then some, are gentle and modest. He doesn’t go to deepen it, so Yoongi doesn’t either, but he does pull Yoongi closer, close enough that their noses knock together until they’re smiling into it. 

And then, mere seconds later, Hoseok is pulling away. The blush has blossomed now, has no doubt spread to Yoongi’s face too, but they can’t keep their eyes off of each other. All Yoongi can think about is doing that again. 

‘What was that for?’ he says. It’s not even a question at this point. 

Hoseok smiles in return. Shrugs. Their hands finally grasp each other more firmly. 

‘Just felt like it.’ 

Yoongi leans in again, smiling softly. ‘Think you’ll feel like it again?’