Chapter Text
Yoongi rarely calls. Hoseok can count the number of times Yoongi has called him, in their five years of friendship, in two hands. Min Yoongi will never call if he can help it. So, when his name pops up at two on a Tuesday morning, Hoseok knows something is wrong.
He answers with his heart in his throat. “Hyung?”
A pause. A deep sigh. Yoongi’s voice comes out shaky, like he’s uncertain. Or maybe scared. “Hoseok-ah. We got… Something came… Can you come over?”
It’s two in the morning. And Yoongi just asked him to come over.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“No, not my place. Namjoon-ah’s apartment.”
Something is definitely wrong.
***
Hoseok walks into Namjoon’s apartment at exactly a quarter to three. The sight that greets him is kind of what he was expecting, but that still doesn’t help his thumping heart. Namjoon is sitting on one couch, head in hands and surrounded by papers. Scholarly articles, national geography magazines, music sheets, and even some of Namjoon’s novels torn to pieces. Yoongi is sitting on the other couch. His face is drawn into a deep frown and he’s biting his thumb beds, stealing glances at Namjoon. He seems unsure of what to do. Hoseok feels the same.
The second he hears Hoseok drop his keys on the foyer table, Yoongi shoots up. His eyes widen, and then relaxes into a desperate look. He takes a breath to school his face, “Were you in the ER Seok-ah?”
Hoseok is a nurse with unpredictable patients and equally unpredictable schedule. He’s single and young, so anytime another parent has to take off due to an emergency call from their child’s kindergarden teacher, he’ll swoop in to take their shift. He doesn’t mind though. He likes helping people. That’s why he chose this job in the first place. “No. I got home around 1:30. Was gonna head to bed.”
Yoongi nods. Namjoon still hasn’t moved. Hoseok wants to know what’s happening, but Yoongi answers before he can ask.
“Namjoon got a call from his mother.” He can’t seem to decide how to continue. “Nayeon and Hyunsik were in an accident.” Hoseok feels his blood run cold. What happened after the accident is written all over Namjoon’s apartment.
Hoseok walks up to Namjoon and crouches down. He wants to pull him into a hug but doesn’t know how to go about it. So, he opts to pull Namjoon’s hands away from his face, and the sight he sees makes his heart clench. His hair is a mess, tear streaks decorate both his cheeks, and his eyes are so bloodshot and so swollen Hoseok could barely look into them properly. “Hobi.” When Hoseok hears that, he doesn’t hesitate to pull Namjoon into a hug.
Both Yoongi and Hoseok grew up with siblings, but neither were close to their sister or brother like Namjoon was with Nayeon. They were only a year apart, so they had an unbreakable bond. After their father died, and their mother stopped caring, that bond only grew stronger. Despite how close Yoongi and Hoseok were to Namjoon, there was no question Nayeon was his best friend. To lose both his sister and brother-in-law in one night? Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. Then his heart drops for a whole another reason.
He whirls around to Yoongi with wide eyes. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. “Jungkook?”
“He’s fine. He was with a babysitter. Not in the car with his parents.” Hoseok feels like he can breathe again. “But that’s part of why we called.” Yoongi looks over to Namjoon seeking reassurance? Permission?
Namjoon finally seems to have calmed down, so he speaks up. “Jungkook doesn’t have his parents anymore. Eomma can’t take him. Won’t take him. I’m all he has now.”
Oh. Oh.
Hoseok sees where this is going, but Yoongi still says it out. It feels necessary to hear it. For all three of them. “Namjoon is a professor. He let his cacti die. I’m a producer. I sometimes forget to eat for days. The two of us know shit about taking care of someone.”
Hoseok sits down on the floor, closes his eyes, and lets himself think. The other two give him the quiet he needs. Eventually he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. “Yoongi hyung’s house is our best option. Three people raising a child in a one-bedroom apartment is a recipe for disaster.”