Work Text:
There’s a lot of perks in working from home. No nosy co-worker that would try hard to poke at your personal life. No one would judge him if he shows up in a meeting in last night’s clothes, bed hair still intact, alcohol may or may not still be in his system. Some might call it a walk of shame but Yoongi doesn’t see anything shameful in being able to work even after a night of wild and wonderful activities that may or may not involve something sexual in nature. It takes perseverance, strength, and lots of coffee thank you very much.
You would’ve imagined he would be more active in his flings and night-life now that he had been afforded the time to do so but it is quite laughable that having lost the main reason to go outside, that is: work, made him want to hole up in his apartment all cozy and content and happy. It’s as if social interaction drains him so much to warrant a release he finds in being shitfaced that very night and then fuck some stranger he met in a club. Crazy how being in solitude would bring up these little epiphanies, but Yoongi isn’t exactly complaining. He’s finding that the solitude also affords him the much needed break, reprieve, to charge up his reserves and face the next producing work head-on, more energetic and fired up than ever.
Although it admittedly does get a little lonely sometimes. Humans still are social creatures no matter how introverted he is. He does have a roommate, a loud and ever so jubilant Jung Hoseok, but he had gone back to his hometown for some family matter. He left about a month ago to iron out some legal paperwork for their ancestral home that they’re selling off. So Yoongi is by his lonesome self. Their apartment has never felt so big and empty and quiet.
Granted, he does spend most of his time with his headphones on either way but it’s unsettling taking them off and hearing silence and not Hoseok’s let’s get something to eat, hyung or how’s the project going .
He doesn’t mind being alone with his thoughts, doesn’t mind entertaining himself by reading whichever forum he found himself in. But there comes a point where things become stagnant and dull and repetitive. Min Yoongi had taken pride in calling himself an introvert and he can’t believe he had reached his tipping point. He needs some semblance of social interaction and bask in someone else’s presence.
He sits there in front of his computer, contemplating just how and where he can be social. He could always call up Jin and say yes to the older’s incessant invite of a fishing date. Or maybe he can follow up with that collab thing Namjoon was talking about last time. He could also give in to Jungkook’s pleading to bring him to that new art supply store a couple of blocks away. He thinks and thinks until the grumbling of his stomach pulls him out of his thoughts.
Checking the refrigerator makes him realize he forgot to grab groceries, cans of sodas being the only thing in the mostly empty space. Guess his social interaction for the day would be greeting the delivery guy from that chicken place down the street. He messages the restaurant with his usual order and leans back on his chair, a sigh leaving his lips.
Phone carelessly dropped onto the couch, he throws his head back and closes his eyes. He’s not really sleepy, just letting his eyes rest from hours of looking at a bright screen. He was in the middle of daydreaming, mind straying to thoughts of getting his hands on an Arturia KeyLab 88 MIDI or an Alesis V49, when the padding of nails against the ceramic floor and small barks outside had piqued his interest. That’s new. He didn’t know someone on his floor had a bark-y pet.
He stands and walks over his window, peeking at the blinds and sees a young man, no older than 25, heaving a box heaping with plush toys with a small dog in his wake yapping at everything. A very energetic and excited doggo with a brown and yellowish coat. It’s very apparent that it is very clingy to its owner, always at his heels. And oh the owner . The barks of the dog may have been loud and quite obnoxious but it’s not enough to distract him from the strikingly good looks of the stranger.
His windswept hair, pronounced nose line, large almond-shaped eyes that demands attention and appreciation. Yoongi feels his jaw unhinge, even more so when the stranger adorably chuckles and calls out a “Tannie, ssh” his voice heavenly and deep and Yoongi just wants to get lost in it. He’s a music producer by profession and he would like nothing more than to hear this man sing a few notes over a melody, his speaking voice already something enticing and he wagers his singing voice would be even much more so.
Tiny in size, but large in terms of volume, the dog stops just outside Yoongi’s window, halting and stiffening as though a predator that has found its prey. Suddenly quiet and focused, hunched forward as though about to pounce. No hint of the excitable pup left in its demeanor. Some small animal, perhaps a bird, must've caught its attention, Yoongi thought. But to his surprise, it turns his head sharply in his direction; beady black eyes staring straight at Yoongi through the blinds, promptly growling at him. Sharp teeth on display in a snarl that has Yoongi stepping away from his window, caught off guard and heart rate shooting up.
That’s one feral, yet sharp, dog. He was sure that he was hidden behind the blinds, but somehow that dog had taken notice of him and clearly showing that it’s aggravated. Yoongi wouldn’t like to be in its vicinity when it is in that mood so he tumbles into his couch, sighing, that small scene a reminder that sometimes social interactions just aren’t worth it. He could be so much more content in his very quiet albeit lonely apartment, away from small furry pets with sharp claws and nasty snarls and creepy sharp as hell instincts.
To be very frank he did think of reaching out to that new tenant. It’s clear that they’re moving in, hauling boxes. Alone. Going up three flights of stairs multiple times carrying one to two boxes at most, Yoongi just knows it would take a while until the new guy settles in. Personally, Yoongi hates manual labor but he also has empathy and he knows from experience that it might be fun for the first few rounds; the exhilarating feeling of being in a new environment fresh and very present but that would wane and he bets new guy would be sullen, tired to the bone, and fall asleep the very moment his body touches his mattress.
Even if he’s an empathic person, Yoongi does have some self-preservation in him. He remembers the growls of that tiny yet very scary dog. He had thought small dogs aren’t suitable to be guard dogs but here he is scared out of his wits and proven wrong.
Well, guess fate really just said he should just stay alone huh. It really went: You wanted solitude? You got it!
Another sigh, this one less from being tired and sad and more of… longing, leaves his lips upon remembering just how beautiful and stunning his new neighbor looked earlier. He doesn’t even mind that he’s acting like a teenager with a crush, remembering his fifteen-year-old self that had once believed in love at first sight. He’s about to go down a trip to memory lane when just then, his phone pings with a message. It’s the food delivery from the chicken place down the street saying they’re by the gate. Well even if he’s lonely and alone, at least he’ll soon be well fed with some delicious fried chicken.
Yoongi grabs his wallet and walks out of his apartment, frigid evening air greeting him. He inhales, letting it fill his lungs. Hmm maybe he should tempt fate and go clubbing at Hongdae tonight. He’s already thinking of texting Jimin, his usual clubbing partner together with Hoseok, if he’s also thinking of going out when he turns a corner and is left face to face with a black and brown ball of fur. It’s the tiny feral dog and it doesn’t look happy. Not one bit.
Both of them stop in their tracks, the dog’s piercing eyes pinning Yoongi on his spot. He’s not typically afraid of dogs per se, but he admits he’s not overly fond of the bark-y type.
“Hey there, buddy.” Yoongi smiles, trying to appeal to its domesticated instincts that demands praise and validation.
It doesn't work.
Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s because he hadn’t been verbally talking to anyone for the past few weeks, hence his voice coming out croaky and very much not friendly. Or maybe he might’ve been consumed with much more fear than he had imagined that it was detected by the dog, which it found to be suspicious. Either way instead of backing down and metaphorically rolling over, the small dog only crouched lower as though about to pounce at Yoongi. Growling.
Uh oh.
“Hey hey hey” Yoongi chants, trying to placate this very wound up dog, hands in front of him and backing away slowly.
It must’ve sensed his intent to retreat as it leaps and latches on to his leg, claws digging into his skin. Yoongi hopes it’s just his claws and not its teeth. All of it happened so fast that he can’t really check, panic and pain seeping into his person and making him act rashly and honestly quite unbecoming. In short: he’s screaming like a banshee.
His saving grace came in the phrase “Tan-ah, stop! Sit!” and suddenly there’s no more weight on his leg. No sharp thing clutched at his skin. And also no ground beneath his feet.
He found himself lying on his back, the cold tiles chilling his skin, and New Neighbor’s face looming over him. His brows pulled together, eyes searching his. Worried. Worrying his lips. Oh that lips. They look so supple and soft and oh they’re moving but Yoongi can’t make out the words.
“Come again?” he found himself saying, about to sit up as a moot attempt of having some semblance of dignity. What a good first impression Yoongi, way to go.
“I’m so sorry for my pet. You see—” New Neighbor began, his voice sounding even more immaculate up close and Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s just delirious but he found himself being strung along by the cadence of the stranger’s speech. His intonation. The random pauses he takes as he collects his thoughts. How a little bit of familiar Daegu accent seeps through in some words, sounding warm and comforting even through the panicked tone.
“Oh god he’s out of it.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m just going to bring my pet home then I can patch you up okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”
Patch him up? Yoongi internally scoffs. He just fell down on his butt from the surprise (and panic) but he’s not harmed . He doesn’t need any medical attention pssh it's probably just a scratch at best.
Far away, he hears a “We’ll talk soon, Mister” and the slamming of a door. A few steps against the ceramic floor and New Neighbor is back, hovering on top of him.
New Neighbor smiles ruefully before reaching out a hand and Yoongi takes an awfully long time looking at it like a buffoon. A socially inept buffoon at that. It took a while for him to reach out and take the hand offered, the warmth of the other’s hand a sharp contrast from his cold ones. Upon contact, electricity seemingly runs through their clasped hands and Yoongi almost breaks his hold just as New Neighbor pulls him up. Upright yet with the world still stilted in his view, he tries to remove the stranger’s hold on him even though he doesn’t really mind the touch per se, he had honestly reached the point of touch starvation and his hand being encased in such warmth is very welcome. Honestly, it’s more of a matter of pride. It’s very shameful being seen and perceived in that predicament. But before he can let go, he makes the mistake of shifting his weight to his other leg and the pain that immediately shoots up almost makes him double over. Good thing New Neighbor is just beside him and surges forward to steady him.
“Patching up sounds good.” Yoongi manages to croak out as New Neighbor fusses over him. Hands on his waist, arm wrapped around him, and heart gracious enough to let Yoongi lean half of his body on him. They move in a glacial phase, with Yoongi slightly paralyzed both by the mortifying truth that okay it is not just a scratch and the fear of looking down and finding blood on his calf. He is now conscious enough to notice the throbbing in his left leg as well as the pain whenever the muscles there ever so much as shift. It hurts and Yoongi finds tears welling in his ducts. He desperately tries to shrug it off, he still wants to present some shred of dignity to this neighbor.
“Is your unit closer?”
Yoongi points toward the direction of his apartment. “Yeah. I have a first aid kit somewhere there too.”
They continue their slow pace, Yoongi being thankful that this man isn’t hurrying him. Granted, he does deserve some empathy, care, and well some slack since he’s not the guilty party here. Nevertheless, Yoongi is well aware of how people, especially those in a metropolitan like Seoul, are impatient and fast-paced; always hurrying to the point they often forget to stop for a bit and be more humane. Thinking their time is worth much more than others. It’s one of the primary reasons Yoongi prefers working from home, away from those tactless, soulless, and ‘productivity’-driven beings, and so far New Neighbor is proving himself to be a cut above the rest.
“I’m really so sorry for this.”
Yoongi can hear the sincerity in his words. Can feel it with the way he is being carefully tended to as though he is a dear friend and not some random stranger he saw near the staircase being bitten by his pet. Yoongi can hold this against him, could probably extort some money out of him if he chooses to be like the ‘hustlers’ very common around the area. But to be very honest he is very much leaning on just letting bygones be bygones. Because he is a kind-hearted individual and not because he really likes how tall the other is and how he easily looms over Yoongi and not that Yoongi would very much prefer to experience this— being pressed against the other so close he could hear the beating of his heart, could feel his chest expand as he breathes—in a different setting; one preferably on a bed and under the sheets but Yoongi isn’t really picky they could do it in any surfaces the other wishes to.
Oh wait— his horny touch-starved brain is getting the best of him.
They’re right by his door now and he hates how his brain is immediately swarmed by the recollection of a very similar scene; of Yoongi in front of this very door accompanied by random-stranger-of-the-night with the prospect of having mind-blowing sex in both of their minds. He clears his throat as though that would also clear his mind of impudent thoughts.This situation is very different, he reminds himself. You have a wound on your leg, focus on that instead.
“Hn. What’s your name?” he asks, to get his mind out of the gutter and because he hadn’t exactly asked any of his flings their names. He never felt compelled to seek them out again preferring the convenient detached nature of one night stands. Maybe having a name to New Neighbor would break his mind out of the horny limbo it is in.
“Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung says as Yoongi turns the knob, grateful for his past self for forgetting to lock the door. He doesn’t want to subject Taehyung in an even more unglamorous display of Yoongi trying to reach for his keys, floundering since he would have to put some weight on his injured leg.
He heaves a sigh of relief as his back hits the soft leather. Taehyung is already looking around the room, probably trying to find where the first aid kit is when his phone rang loud. A call.
It’s the delivery guy.
“I’m Min Yoongi by the way, welcome to my humble abode. Now Kim Taehyung, do me a favor and get my fried chicken for me.”
**
Taehyung was adamant that he had to pay for the chicken and they spent a good five minutes passing 14,000 won back and forth. Yoongi can’t help but find it funny as they act like those ahjummas that don't want to back down and admit defeat when it comes to showing respect and gratitude.
In the end, it was Yoongi’s defeat and Taehyung’s win. The other had pulled one of those looks with the big eyes and pout that didn’t fail to tug at Yoongi’s heartstring and he found himself rescinding and pocketing back his money before he knew it.
With that over and done with, Taehyung is now running amok Yoongi’s apartment looking for a washcloth, soap, and a bucket of water. Yoongi knows because Taehyung’s been repeatedly murmuring those words under his breath as he walks around the loft. The first aid kit now lay beside Yoongi’s feet. He’s on his back on the couch, tired but weirdly… energized? Like a wire he had thought off to be a dud had caught fire and lit up something in him. Untapped and slightly foreign but not necessarily unpleasant.
He closes his eyes, hearing the running water in the kitchen sink. Taehyung must’ve found a basin or some receptor. He knows he should be more attentive and alert with a stranger in his unit but he can’t help but feel calm and at peace with the little noises around him that makes this drab apartment feel more like home. The padding of Taehyung’s feet as he approaches the couch. Him humming a soft tune, a lullaby that whisks Yoongi ever the more closer to slumber.
It should be frightening the way he had easily casted aside his defenses in front of Taehyung. It’s like breaking the first rule of living in a big city like Seoul; always assume everyone wants something from you. Be it money, connections, or a quick fuck. Those are the most common ones and Yoongi is guilty of the last bit. It makes sincerity and earnestness a rarity here. A carefully manufactured persona being people’s go-to, in general.
Yoongi, having lived here in Seoul for six years, had grown a finely-tuned radar for these frivolous types of people. Those who are inauthentic and with vested interest they hide behind smiles, sweet words, and coddling. It took a lot of calibration, having had to nurse a few broken hearts along the way. Cutting off people he had thought would be a permanent fixture in his life. Mentors and dongsaengs alike along the way. His circle dwindling and dwindling in size as he put up more walls around him, boundaries he had deemed necessary for his own peace of mind.
Yet somehow Kim Taehyung, in the few moments they have known each other, bulldozed over that. His sincerity and heart of gold shining through. His smile full of boyish innocence. Apologetic eyes, angelic. If ever his radar is off and Yoongi wakes up to find his house robbed of all valuables then he would gladly take the L and clap along to Taehyung’s stellar performance. For now, he can’t fathom any of the other’s reaction and words to be disingenuous and manufactured.
“Hyung?” A voice stirs him out of his syrupy thoughts and closer to waking reality. He opens his eyes to find Taehyung’s shocked and regretful face.
“Oops, sorry Yoongi-ssi. It slipped out. Just… habit you know.” Taehyung bit his lips, worrying over it.
Yoongi finds himself mesmerized by the motion, shamelessly ogling. “You can call me hyung.” It slips out without much thought and Yoongi didn’t have time to retract his statement as his mind catches up to his mouth. Taehyung is already beaming at him, an excited glint in his eyes and brimming with happiness.
“Okay hyung!” he says, giggling. Eyes in slits as he smiles so big his cheeks push his lids against each other. “Can I roll up your pants? So I could clean your wound. Hyung?”
“Go ahead,” Yoongi says, waving his hands at Taehyung as if to say go do what you want . He shields his view with his arm, not necessarily because he doesn’t want to see the blood but honestly because his heart twinges when he sees Taehyung beaming so radiantly… like sunshine incarnate. He didn’t know his heart was so feeble. Plus one more discovery today, he guesses.
Yoongi feels the coldness of the water, wet cloth being pressed to his skin. Careful hands gently applying pressure. Wiping. Press. Press. Wipe. Repeat. The motions are meticulous and practiced. With confidence and not a hint of hesitation in Taehyung’s end. It’s a little bit comforting. He doesn’t know what he would’ve felt if Taehyung is panicky and unhinged at the sight of his leg. He likes the calmness and level-headed Taehyung he sees. No reason to feel alarmed. So what if he has a bleeding wound that hurts like a bitch if he has a very gorgeous neighbor cleaning it and taking care of him. It’s not necessarily a win, but he’ll take all the positives he can get thank you very much.
“You look like you know what you’re doing.”
Taehyung hums. “I’m a veterinarian actually. But I guess that makes Yeontan’s actions more… deplorable… he’s a very protective dog especially with… recent stuff. I’m so sorry.” He sounds crestfallen near the end. Each pause makes Taehyung purse his lips, pulling the corners of his lips closer to the ground. The silence speaking of a deeper story. A story he, a mostly stranger, is probably not privy to. So Yoongi shuts his lips, curiosity gnawing at him.
Taehyung rubs soap into a fresh wet washcloth, then gently scrubs it to the wound. “Don’t worry he got his shots this year! So no rabies scare!” he says, cheery voice back.
Yoongi didn’t pry deeper, respecting Taehyung’s boundaries. All he needs to know for now is that Yeontan, apparently the name of the furry dog that bit him, has some good reason to be on guard and protective of Taehyung. Yoongi is burning with curiosity but he knows he is in no place to demand that information, he is just after all an acquaintance and a neighbor at most. There is no emotional coinage in being the victim of your pet. And even if there was, Yoongi wouldn’t use it against Taehyung. He’s not a manipulative asshole.
“Is it bad?” Yoongi asks, referring to his wound mostly to go with Taehyung’s flow, diverting the conversation away from that sore topic.
“It helped that you didn’t try to wrangle him off of you so no lacerations! No stitches required! Definitely not the worst I’ve seen. It also helps that Yeontan is a small dog. Else the pain would be worse by now.”
“Do I have to get shots?” he asks voice wavering in the end no matter how much he tried to hide his dislike of needles and them piercing through his skin.
Taehyung stops what he’s doing, he’s now washing off the soap bubbles on the wound, to look at Yoongi both eyebrows raised. Yoongi feels himself blushing, he definitely caught on to his fear.
“Unfortunately, I have to advise that you get a tetanus shot. Or a booster.”
Yoongi groans. Taehyung sounds rueful enough and he appreciates the sympathy but he still detests going to the hospital to get shots. Taehyung mutters something like cute but Yoongi isn’t really sure. Him and ‘cute’ don’t coexist. Shouldn’t coexist.
He finds himself getting redder nevertheless.
He hears a few clinks and tinkering as Taehyung rummages through the first aid kit, still humming that lullaby-like tune. Repeating the melody that did help in calming his nerves. Yoongi can’t help but want to have that soundbite saved in his collections for selfish and very self indulgent reasons.
Yoongi is right when he had thought that Taehyung’s singing voice would be amazing. Well technically humming and singing is different, but it does show that Taehyung can hold a note. He can only wish that someday he could hear him actually sing. Maybe one day if he’s lucky and fate deems him worthy of a blessing, unlike how recent events are unfolding.
A layer of betadine, and then an antibacterial ointment is laved on his wound. Yoongi was foolishly scared it’ll hurt like a bitch, adding to the still throbbing pain in his limb, but it didn’t sting at all. In no time, Yoongi is all clean and gauzed up with Taehyung already packing away the stuff he had used back to the place he took it from. Everything back in place, just how it used to be. Soon Taehyung would leave that door to resume hauling boxes into his home maybe after chiding his dog. They’ll still be neighbors of course so he doesn’t know why the thought of Taehyung going through that door sends his heart into a panicked frenzy.
“Why don’t you stay?” Yoongi blurts out the words before he could even properly process the thought. It seems to be a common occurrence when it involves Taehyung. Taehyung, who had just put back the first aid kit on the shelf, turns to him, both his eyebrows slowly rising in bafflement?? Wonder?? Yoongi isn’t sure.
Yoongi finds himself scratching his ear, gaze turned to somewhere behind Taehyung. “I mean… I got a bucket of chicken and only me so…”
He briefs a glance at the other, watching as a smile slowly blooms in Taehyung’s face and Yoongi can’t help but be reminded of an eager puppy. A comparison that should make him shiver and fearful given the recent developments but one that had him melting from the inside out instead. Something is definitely wrong with him.
“I’ll be happy to have dinner with you hyung!”
“Oh! Okay.” Yoongi didn’t expect that Taehyung would go with his impulsive decision, given that he is in the middle of moving in and needing to have his things carried to his room. Nevermind he has to sort through them and arrange them in his new home. He didn’t think he would be Taehyung’s priority. Or maybe it’s his stomach’s needs that he’s abiding. Yeah that one sounds more rational Yoongi is going to stick with that.
Dinner was eaten on the couch, Taehyung insisting that Yoongi not move around too much. Yoongi would call it borderline coddling. With Taehyung servicing all his whims and needs. He’s the one to cook the instant rice, the one that cleared the coffee table of very important papers scattered all around with Yoongi’s scribbles—some for work, some ideas for a flimsy dream of releasing his own mixtape—and even the one that had washed the dishes. There was even a point where Yoongi sensed that Taehyung had felt the need to feed Yoongi himself when the older had trouble sitting up to an upright position. Though that last bit may just be his creative mind being wishful but he did see Taehyung pausing a few times, chicken wing in between chopsticks raised in the air and a hand underneath that to catch any crumb that might fall, and looking at him determinedly. Silent. But very powerful. Yoongi could only look down on the ceramic cup of rice held in his palm, avoiding that powerful gaze, and chew fast .
They did talk while eating. Just talking about themselves. Turns out, Yoongi wasn’t actually completely delirious earlier, the Daegu drawl he had remarked proved to be correct. They shared stories of when and how they grew up. Taehyung had grown up on a farm where he had fostered his love for animals, hence the profession he chose to undertake. Yoongi shared how he had spent his youth helping out at his family’s diner and that he can actually cook, and can make a mean jajangmyeon, but have just run out of groceries hence the take out. To which Taehyung showed delight and a: I hope I can try your cooking one of these days. Even finding out that Taehyung had taken the same bus that passes Yoongi’s high school as well as his family’s diner. Both of them humored the possibility of them having sat next to each other in passing, merely strangers, their lives not yet colliding.
“Meeting on a bus is a much more civil way to meet than… well that” Taehyung points to Yoongi’s leg, an uneasy smile on his face as though not completely sure if he can poke fun at the situation they’re in.
“Oh definitely. Though I’m okay with being uncivil. Civility can be a sham.” Yoongi says, not really sure if what he’s saying is making sense. A mere quip delivered to put Taehyung at ease, and it is effective, the smile on the other’s face widening to a vision that Yoongi is quickly labelling to be one of his favorites.
Taehyung laughs heartily, even having had to wipe a tear. “I mean this in the most respectful way possible but I’m kinda glad Yeontan bit you, hyung.”
Yoongi echoes the sentiment even as the dull pain in his leg refuses to ebb; smiling along with Taehyung, their eyes meeting. The atmosphere between them is warm and comfortable. Syrupy. It feels syrupy. Oh so sweet and everything seemingly in slow motion. As though they’re encased in amber. One of those moments that should be preserved. Precious. A floating feeling residing in his chest, as if the living room is unanchored to reality, wafting in a different dimension. Where time moves slow and fate is on Yoongi’s side. One where he is undoubtedly happy, cared for and not alone.
The moment is broken by a sequence of loud and unrelenting barks from what Yoongi assumes is Yeontan next door. Whisking their perception back into this plane of existence, breaking the rare moment that Yoongi felt like he’s back in his childhood home; safe and completely at ease. Just himself with not a hint of pretense. Achingly vulnerable. He’s certain he would’ve blurted out anything Taehyung would’ve asked him in that moment. Would've done anything the other asks of him.
It’s probably a good thing that Yeontan interrupted.
“Tannie must be hungry. I have to go now, hyung.”
Okay so the interruption is not a good thing.
Yoongi could only give Taeyung a close-lipped smile and a wave. Perfectly aware he’s being unreasonable by wishing that Taehyung could stay even a minute longer, just so Yoongi could selfishly find comfort in the other’s presence. Basking in the solace Taehyung brings him.
Taehyung is almost out the door when he stops in his tracks, taking a sharp intake of breath. “I almost forgot! You still haven’t taken any painkillers right, hyung? I didn’t see any in your first aid kit so let me grab one in my stash. I’ll be back!”
Before Yoongi could even reply, Taehyung had already scampered off running. He’s left there smiling like a fool, inexplicably giddy just from the promise of Taehyung coming back. Yoongi’s well-being is still at the forefront of Taehyung's mind. It feels… nice. Being taken care of in this way, so enthusiastically with no words that need to be said. Taehyung seemingly always one step ahead of him.
He’s back in a jiffy, lightly panting and still smiling that boyish smile; a whole packet of analgesics in his grasp. His eyes, so big and expressive, are on him. Focused and waiting as he catches his breath. Staring. With a giddy smile still plastered onto his face, Yoongi stares back. No matter how intense Taehyung’s gaze is. No matter how somehow, the atmosphere is charged and crackling with energy. Taehyung’s boyish smile melts into something more slacked jaw, eyes widening as though at awe. At what? Yoongi isn’t sure. Taehyung is looking at him but it isn’t him that he’s reacting to… right?
“Hyung… you should smile more.”
“Huh?” Yoongi would usually take offense at that but he finds himself chuckling instead.
Taehyung wrings his hands together. “Uh- I meant. That smile. It looks good on you. You’re like an angel.”
Yoongi could only gape at Taehyung, at a loss for words. Blinking owlishly at the other who is still by the doorway, still staring at him as though entranced by a spell Yoongi doesn’t know how to break.
Guess he doesn’t really have to as the clicks of nails against ceramic tiles followed by a yap stirs Taehyung back into motion, Yeontan pawing at his heels.
“Tan-ah, wait. Papa will be back, I just need to do something first okay,” he says, walking backwards into Yoongi’s apartment and giving Yeontan a tiny wave before fully closing the door.
“Sorry about that hyung, I didn’t want for him to get near you so soon but Yeontan can be very clingy. I think I forgot to close the door in my hurry.”
Yoongi couldn’t gather his bearings yet, Taehyung's You're like an angel still playing his mind, so he could only nod mindlessly at Taehyung who has now grabbed a glass of water. Placing it on top of the coffee table in front of him together with the painkillers.
“Do you need help moving to your bed or is your leg better now?”
Within a millisecond, Yoongi’s brain had conjured up an image of Taehyung carefully guiding him to his bedroom body pressed against him for support. Wherein Yoongi conveniently trips against his bed frame, the two of them tumbling into the sheets, heads knocking together. Both of them giggling at the circumstances until one of them realizes the short distance between their faces. Their lips. Their clothed hips. The tension palpable as they wait for one who’ll take the initiative, the one to surge forward and claim the lips awaiting theirs. The one who would let out that pretty moan that’ll have everything cascading to a wonderful coupling of bodies. Pliant. Wanting. Willing.
Yeah his horny brain is getting the best of him so— “No, I think I’ll sleep on my couch tonight. Thank you for being considerate though.” He smiles at Taehyung, slightly guilty he’s having such indecent thoughts right in front of someone he had met just hours ago.
Oh, wait that’s also what he does with his flings though… But Taehyung is well... Taehyung. He’s not someone Yoongi wants to shoo away after one night and never talk to again. He wants to get to know him more. Wants to hear more about his childhood and their farm. Wants to hear more stories about his grandma’s supposedly mouth-watering strawberry jam and maybe even have Taehyung show him the secrets on how to recreate it. Wants to be close enough that they’re comfortable going back home to Daegu together during the holidays. Maybe even visit each other’s home if Taehyung would want to.
Okay, he’s getting ahead of himself.
“Are you sure? Want me to grab you some blankets and extra pillows?”
“That’ll be wonderful. Thank you.”
Taehyung returns with three pillows, a blanket, and his kumamon plush toy he keeps beside his bed. Yoongi can’t help but blush the moment his eyes caught sight of the stuffed toy.
“I grabbed this so hyung wouldn’t be as lonely here!” Taehyung beams, placing the toy besides the painkillers. Kumamon looking very much like his personal nurse, protecting his meds.
Taehyung fluffs the pillows one by one and lays out the blanket over him. Yoongi is tempted to take a jab and say Gonna tuck me in and kiss me good night too? but he realizes it’s not really a jab when it’s really him wanting to flirt so he shuts his mouth. He takes an aspirin instead, taking care to note the time so he’s sure he’s only taking it once every 4 hours and not abuse the medicine.
When Taehyung’s done coddling him Yoongi had expected the other to leave immediately, since Yeontan is probably getting even more antsy by now, but he’s still standing beside him and fiddling with his hands.
“M-maybe I should leave my number? Just in case you need something?? Like in the middle of the night or— ”
Yoongi raises an eyebrow, a smile growing on his lips. “Sure, you can have mine too.”
“—or if you think there’s some burglar outside or someone weird, you can call me?? Like you don’t have to but I’m just— wait I can?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Oh. Okay. Nice. Amazing. Excellent.” Taehyung fumbles with his phone, giving it to Yoongi.
He dials his number, all the while finding a very flustered Taehyung so adorable . Saving it under Yeontan’s chew toy 🦴[Yoongi-hyung] then calls himself, so he also has Taehyung’s number, his phone beside him lighting up.
“See you tomorrow?” Yoongi asks as he returns Taehyung’s phone.
“So we can get you that tetanus shot, right?”
Yoongi had meant it in a more casual way. Like maybe he could manage to rope Taehyung to have lunch with him. But going to the doctors to get some dreaded shots isn’t really that bad. Not when Taehyung would accompany him.
“We?” Yoongi asks, opting to fluster Taehyung even more.
It works as Taehyung reddens even more. “U-uh I mean it is my responsibility and well your leg plus—”
Yoongi takes Taehyung’s hand in his, lightly squeezing it. “I was just kidding. Of course, I’d like you to go with me to the doctors. I hate needles.”
“Is that so? Then I’ll make sure to hold your hand tomorrow too!” Taehyung says in earnest, squeezing back.
Yoongi could feel his cheeks heat up. So the flusteree has also been the flustered. Oh, how the tables have turned. He breaks their hold, fakes a yawn and spouts a “I’m getting sleepy” just to get out of the conversation.
“Oh. Okay good night hyung!" Taehyung says, waving at him, almost out the door.
“Good night see you tomorrow!”
“See you. It’s a date!” He waves one last time as the door snaps shut and silence returns to Yoongi’s apartment once again.
But instead of being glum and dispirited as he returns to being his lonesome self, Yoongi finds himself smiling and looking forward to tomorrow and the days to come. Maybe fate is finally shining a light on him and he wouldn’t feel as alone anymore. Not with Kim Taehyung by his side.
To say the least, Yoongi is happy he got bitten today.