Work Text:
Jeongguk rents the apartment because it's a) cheap, and b) three blocks away from campus.
It’s nice enough. There’s a living room, a small kitchen, and his bedroom can fit all of his filming equipment. The desk is built into the walls, and although it’s a bit rusted, it serves its purpose.
What Jeongguk unfortunately didn’t account for was one Min Yoongi.
“Hey,” said Min Yoongi when Jeongguk was rolling his three suitcases up to the front door. “Jeon Jeongguk, right?”
Jeongguk blinked, then looked up and right into warm, honey-golden eyes that curved like little crescent moons. “Um,” he said eloquently. “Yes?”
Min Yoongi raised an eyebrow, an amused smile dancing at his lips. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” said Jeongguk again, louder this time. “I—yes. I’m Jeongguk. Um.”
“Great,” said Min Yoongi, and god. “I’m Yoongi. Call me hyung.”
And that was that.
Don't get Jeongguk wrong. Yoongi is a good roommate. Actually, Yoongi is an excellent roommate. He somehow wakes up before Jeongguk almost every day, and he has piping hot breakfast ready on the table for the two to share. They eat in silence more often than not, Yoongi spooning food into his mouth from across the table, his phone in his other hand and his thumb scrolling through whatever it is that he's looking at.
Jeongguk says nothing, silently eating his share and glancing up every now and then to see Yoongi’s pinched eyebrows pointed downward, his fingers flying across his tiny virtual keyboard.
And, when Yoongi looks up and sees that Jeongguk has still not finished his food, he laughs so wholeheartedly that Jeongguk has to duck his head to hide the rosy color of his cheeks.
So. Yeah. Yoongi is a good roommate.
It’s just that Jeongguk is not. It’s just that Jeongguk feels the beating of his heart annoyingly pick up speed whenever Yoongi so much as looks in his direction.
Great. This is fine.
Fantastic.
✧✧✧
It is definitely not fine. Nor is it fantastic. Not in the slightest. Absolutely not. What the fuck.
"You seem stressed," says Taehyung, swirling a sticky lollipop between his fingers.
"'M fine," Jeongguk mumbles.
"I wasn't talking about you," says Taehyung, turning in his seat and staring at Jimin. Jimin, of course, is currently hunched over his textbook, his head in his arms and his fingers forcibly holding his eyes open. Taehyung offers him a pitying smile, patting his shoulder and saying, "Poor little Jiminnie.”
Jimin darts up, his eyes immediately sliding shut and his lips parting. He falls over against the table, his cheek smushing the pages of the book and crinkling the corners. "Waaaaaah."
"I feel that," says Taehyung, nodding matter-of-factly. He turns back over to Jeongguk and sighs. "He has a physics test tomorrow."
Jimin makes a wail of displeasure. "And a math test."
"Damn," says Jeongguk, frowning. "My condolences."
"I am going to die," says Jimin. "I am going to die and I still won't know what Fubini's theorem is."
"Like focaccia bread?" Jeongguk asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Oh god," says Taehyung, "I could go for some focaccia bread right about now."
"Me too," says Jeongguk. "We should get some."
"We should," Taehyung agrees.
Jimin looks up to shoot them both a death glare. "So you're just going to leave me? Here? Alone? Alone to die? I mean this little to you? The both of you? Tae?"
"Tae?" Taehyung repeats, blinking. "So you're saying you'd understand if Jeongguk ditched?"
"Yeah," says Jimin. He curls in on himself and whimpers, “I want Namjoon-hyung.”
"Every day," Taehyung says, shaking his head, "every day I am disrespected in this household. After everything I do for the both of you."
"So nothing," says Jeongguk. "Literally nothing."
Taehyung waves him off. And then, to Jimin, "If you wanted Namjoon-hyung, you should have just said so! Jeonggukkie, my phone please.”
“Why the hell would I have your phone.”
“Tch,” says Taehyung, shaking his head and sliding his fingers over the screen of his device. “What a disobedient child.”
“I’m not even that much younger than you.”
“A literal fetus,” Taehyung says again, clicking his phone alive and opening his messaging app. Jeongguk watches, eyebrows raised, as Taehyung nods with satisfaction down at his screen before putting his device aside and grinning over to Jimin. “He’s coming.”
Jimin’s lips part in surprise. “You’re my best friend.”
“Tea!” Taehyung nods.
Jimin scrunches his nose and groans, “I want tea. I want caffeine.”
“I told Namjoon-hyung to get coffee for you on the way.”
Jimin looks over at him, wide-eyed. “Kim Taehyung, I am in love with you.”
Taehyung snorts. “Yeah yeah, get in line.”
“No, really,” says Jimin, sitting up and reaching out to take Taehyung’s hands in his. “Come to my wedding. Be my best man. There’s no one else I want. Only you. It’s always been you.”
“Naturally,” Taehyung nods.
Jeongguk groans into his hands.
Later, when Jimin has been whisked away by Namjoon and an iced caramel latte, Taehyung turns back to Jeongguk and narrows his eyes on him.
“So,” Taehyung starts. “Something’s up with you.”
Jeongguk blanches. “What?”
“You heard me,” says Taehyung. He raises his eyebrows, clicking his tongue. “What happened? Is this about your new roommate? Who is it, anyways? Is he nice? You haven’t told me anything about him!”
“He’s...nice,” says Jeongguk slowly. “Um.”
“Oh my god,” says Taehyung, and oh fuck no. “You have a crush on him.”
“I do not,” says Jeongguk immediately, sitting up a little straighter as he clears his throat and attempts to harden his gaze on his best friend. “I absolutely do not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What’s his name?”
“Yoongi,” says Jeongguk before he can stop himself.
“Yoongi?” Taehyung asks, cocking his head to the side. “Min Yoongi?”
Fuck. “Do you know him?”
“Nah,” says Taehyung, and oh, that’s good. At least Taehyung can’t embarrass him in front of Yoongi. “Come on, Gukkie, details. Details.”
“There are no details,” says Jeongguk. “Yoongi-hyung and I just live together.”
Taehyung stares at him, unmoving.
“I’m serious,” Jeongguk presses. “Like, we barely even talk to each other.”
Which is true. He and Yoongi don’t talk to each other. Not really, anyways. Does Jeongguk want to change that? Maybe. Is he going to take the initiative? Probably not.
And then Taehyung shrugs and says, “If you say so,” and that’s that.
✧✧✧
Jeongguk supposes he has one Kim Seokjin to thank for his eventual budding friendship with Yoongi. You know, because it's not like Jeongguk literally lives with Yoongi. It's not like he sees him every day of his life. But, you know, whatever. Jeongguk can deal.
One day, when Jeongguk and Yoongi both somehow don't have afternoon classes, the doorbell to the apartment chimes three times.
Yoongi is sitting on the couch, his laptop in his lap and his lips puckered in concentration. Jeongguk sits on the opposite end of the couch, their knees mere feet away from each other. They don't talk, nor do they really pay any mind to the other. It's like this often, actually, the quiet bursts of productivity two kind-of-acquainted roommates would go through.
"Sorry, Jeongguk," says Yoongi under his breath. Jeongguk starts at the sound of his voice, glancing sidelong at him. "Do you mind getting that? My fingers are typing on their own."
"Oh," says Jeongguk. "Yeah, sure."
So he gets up, walks to the front door, and pulls it open.
A man is standing on the other side. He's devastatingly handsome and he has nice teeth. Jeongguk only knows that because the man is smiling so widely. He's also holding a stack of paper.
"Hi!" he says, cocking his head to the side and grinning so widely it almost hurts Jeongguk to look at. The man doesn't look too much older than himself, so he must be in college too. But there's no way any college student should be smiling like that. "You must be Jeongguk. Yoongi's told me much about you."
Jeongguk's jaw goes slack.
"Uh."
"Can I come in?" says the man.
"Oh—um. Yeah, sure."
So Jeongguk steps away to make room for the man to enter. The man tilts his head forward in thanks, dragging the stack of paper in through the door with him. He marches right up to Yoongi, who's still silently focused on his work, and slams the papers down onto the coffee table.
Yoongi starts. "Jesus fucking Christ—hyung?"
"Yoongi-yah," the man blabbers, pressing his palms onto the surface of the paper and leaning forward. Jeongguk watches from the entrance to the apartment, his eyes going wide as he watches Yoongi visibly flinch with surprise. "You need to read lines with me."'
Yoongi stares up at him blankly. "No."
"Yes," the man counters immediately.
"The last time you made me read lines with you, you almost got me on the library's blacklist."
The man waves a hand, his posture relaxed and sure. Jeongguk marvels at this—the two must be close, after all. Of course, it isn't like Jeongguk would know, because he and Yoongi don't talk. Or, when they do talk, it's never about their actual personal lives. It's usually just quiet exchanges of do you want me to get your laundry for you? and I'm making dinner tonight, unless you want to order in?
Easy stuff. Simple stuff. Jeongguk is fine.
"Hoseok’s busy," the man says, and Yoongi's frown turns into a grimace. "So you know what that means."
"No. Find someone else."
"Absolutely not," says the man. Then, as if remembering something, he perks up and looks back over his shoulder, right dead into Jeongguk's eyes. Jeongguk gulps and hopes it isn't too noticeable. "Oh! Yoongi, introduce me to your cute little friend."
Jeongguk's eyes slide away from the man's face, down across his build and right to where Yoongi is currently staring at him. Jeongguk offers him a questioning look, to which Yoongi responds with a sheepish, apologetic smile. He mouths sorry, and Jeongguk's lips curl upward ever so slightly. He shakes his head, then nods.
"Right," says Yoongi, clearing his throat in his palm and bending further into the back cushion of the couch. "Hyung, this is Jeongguk. Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, this is Kim Seokjin. He's a nuisance."
Seokjin raises an eyebrow.
Yoongi coughs. "I mean," he says, then stops. Considers. Then he deadpans, "Jeongguk, meet Kim Seokjin. He's the best person I've ever met in my life."
"Aww," Seokjin coos. "That's so sweet of you to say, Yoongi. You're still running lines with me."
"Jin-hyung is a theater major," Yoongi continues, ignoring him completely. "And you know what that means."
"It means I have a production next month," says Seokjin, "which I have been generously granted the lead role for, and little Yoongi here refuses to help out his favorite hyung."
"Anyone would be better than you."
Seokjin grins, plucking the first packet off of the mountain of paper and waving it in front of Yoongi's face. "I know that isn't true. Now, here you go." He thrusts the papers into Yoongi's hands, the latter looking like he's about four seconds away from committing bloody murder. Jeongguk wonders belatedly if maybe he should go and sit down in the kitchen or something. "Open to the first page. You're Solhyun, and I'm Chanwoo. Ready?"
"No," Yoongi mutters, looking over to where Jeongguk is and beckoning him over. Jeongguk unfreezes in the least graceful manner known to mankind, like some kind of crusted robot. He swallows down his nerves and follows Yoongi's call, tip-toeing over to the couch and sliding back into his seat from earlier.
Seokjin pays no mind to him, clearly in the middle of some kind of extensive pre-performance ritual. He's doing...breathing exercises. Maybe. All Jeongguk really knows is that he's making strange faces into empty space and there are some noises coming out from the back of his throat.
He feels something pat his side. Jeongguk looks over to see Yoongi's eyes trailed carefully on him, amusement laced in his dark gaze. "Weird, huh?" he whispers. It's not very loud, but something tells Jeongguk that Seokjin didn't hear him. "Don't mind him. He always gets a bit anxious a few weeks before a bigger production. He's been after his particular role for a while now. So, you know."
Jeongguk nods, because he can understand this. There have been many times he's tried desperately to rearrange his portfolio in a way that will appeal to whoever is going to be looking over it, evaluating it, picking out each and every little detail and scrutinizing it from head to toe.
"I get it," he says in return, his voice coming out in a slight whisper. "I get like that too. I'm a videographer."
"Are you?" Yoongi asks, his eyebrow curving along his forehead. "Damn. Is that why your room is full of filming equipment? I was wondering what you majored in.”
In reality, it should be kind of sad that Yoongi is only learning Jeongguk's major after almost a week of living with him, but Jeongguk also can't really find himself caring enough to focus on that matter right now. After all, Yoongi is talking to him. They are Engaging In Conversation.
Damn.
"I'm a photographer," says Yoongi then, biting his bottom lip.
Jeongguk's eyes go wide. He's seen Yoongi with a camera slung over his neck sometimes around the apartment, but his brain obviously hadn't put two and two together. "That's so cool," he says, because it is. "I've done some photography before."
"Yeah?" says Yoongi. "Do you still have them?"
"My photographs?"
Yoongi nods, eyes sparkling.
"Um," says Jeongguk. "Maybe? I can look for them, if you'd like to see them."
"I would," says Yoongi. "If you'd like to show me, I would."
"Then I will," says Jeongguk.
"That's great, I—"
Someone clears their throat.
Jeongguk winces at the sound, his eyes flitting upward to see Seokjin standing in front of them, his hands on his hips and a strange look in his eyes as he glances between them. Jeongguk really has absolutely no idea about how best to interpret the way Seokjin's gaze lingers on Yoongi just a little longer, his face doing a weird thing as he and Yoongi appear to be...having a conversation. In complete silence. Yoongi looks absolutely done with him.
Then Seokjin's expression shifts into something a bit more relaxed, and he rushes forward and jams his index finger on the script that's still sitting in Yoongi's hands. "Read. From line four."
Yoongi looks like he wants to argue, he really does, but then a flash of something akin to resignation bolts through his entire body. He goes slack against the couch, a muffled groan falling through his lips as he rolls his eyes and bites out, "Fine."
Seokjin turns to Jeongguk and grins. "Do you see that? He's such a softie."
"Shut up," Yoongi mutters. "God. Okay. Fine. Chanwoo-yah, my dearest, my beloved, how I missed you, how I longed to be by your side during these perilous months of— yeah, no. Absolutely not."
"Shhhhh," says Seokjin. "You must embrace Solhyun's character, Yoongi. Come, come, Solhyun-ah, continue with what it is you want to say."
"I want to say get out of my apartment."
Jeongguk stifles his laugh.
Yoongi glances at him, his shoulders visibly tightening. He releases a puffed sigh through his lips and grudgingly continues, “Whatever. Fuck. We have been apart for so long, my love, but now that you're here in front of me. I wish to taste your— fucking hell, what the fuck. What the fuck is this?"
"I'll pretend you finished your line," Seokjin says, waving a hand before swelling his chest out and dramatically yelling at the top of his lungs, "YAH, CHOI SOLHYUN, WHAT YOU DO TO ME, COME HERE, DARLING, KISS ME!"
Seokjin then jumps over to Yoongi, making kissy faces at him as Yoongi squeaks and rolls away. Jeongguk doubles over, clutches his stomach, and bursts out into peels of laughter.
"Bullies," Yoongi mutters under his breath from somewhere next to him. "All of you. Bullies. I hate you both."
"Thank you for appreciating my performance, Jeongguk," says Seokjin, winking down at Jeongguk, who is wheezing half on the floor.
"You're amazing, Seokjin-ssi," he says, his eyes scrunching together. "I've—I've never seen Yoongi-hyung do or say anything like that before."
"Call me hyung," says Seokjin, before skipping over and looping his arm around Jeongguk's shoulder. "You'll learn a lot more of Yoongi's hidden personality as you continue to live with him." He squeezes the blade of Jeongguk's shoulder and says seriously, "I wish you the best of luck, comrade."
"Thanks," says Jeongguk, "um, hyung. I'll try."
Yoongi's muttering something again, but this time, Jeongguk is too caught up in his laughter to properly hear him.
✧✧✧
Things become easier after that.
“Hyung,” says Jeongguk one morning, “I’m so sorry, but do you mind if I have a couple of people over tonight? You can say no! It’s just that Taehyung-hyung’s roommates have some big exam next week and Jimin-hyung needs some, like, I don’t even know, down time? That’s what Taehyung-hyung called it, at least, because he had a physics project due last—”
“Jimin?” Yoongi cuts in, blinking slowly through his sleepy haze. It’s still fairly early, the coffee machine in the kitchen whirring as background noise. “Park Jimin?”
Jeongguk pauses. “You know Jimin-hyung?”
“Oh, god,” says Yoongi, and Jeongguk doesn’t really know what to make of that. “No one—he didn’t tell me that the two of you are friends.”
Jeongguk stares at him blankly. “So...you do know him?”
“Unfortunately,” says Yoongi, turning around and clicking the brew button on the Keurig and slipping a smooth navy mug beneath the muzzle. “His boyfriend is my best friend.”
“Namjoon-hyung is your best friend?”
“For…” Yoongi trails off, pursing his lips in quiet thought. “For about a decade now, yeah.” And before Jeongguk can even begin to dissect that, Yoongi’s already continuing: “Anyways, yeah. Of course you can invite your friends over. This is your house, too. Who’s your other friend—Taehyung?”
“Kim Taehyung,” Jeongguk nods. “First year. Vocal major.”
“Well, shit,” says Yoongi. “I think I know him, too.”
Kim Taehyung you little bitch, Jeongguk thinks. But of course he can’t say that out loud. “How?”
“He was in, ah, theater club?” Yoongi squints. “With Jin-hyung. I think he went for, like, two meetings and then never showed up again.”
“Theater club?” Jeongguk repeats, eyebrows furrowing. “I thought he was lying about that.” Then, “Hyung, I thought you didn’t act.”
“I don’t,” Yoongi presses, reaching back and effortlessly picking up his steaming mug of coffee. He raises it to his lips and makes a face.
Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Is something wrong with the coffee?”
“Yeah,” says Yoongi, but he takes a sip anyway. “It’s hot. I like my coffee iced, and I forgot to put some in the fridge last night before I went to sleep.” Another sip, this one longer. Jeongguk’s gaze trails along the lines of Yoongi’s Adam’s apple as he swallows. “But back to the point. I don’t act, I’ve never—and will never—act in anything in my life, but. You saw how Jin-hyung is.”
Jeongguk did. He definitely did.
So he nods and says, “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees. He makes a nebulous gesture with his hands. “I guess you can kind of figure out what happened.”
“Kind of,” Jeongguk grins. “Well, hyung, I for one think you would be a great actor. If I ever stumble across a company, I’ll be sure to pass along your name to them.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi deadpans. “Means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.”
So Yoongi is okay with Jeongguk inviting his friends over. Yes, it’s common courtesy, and Yoongi himself probably didn’t even think much of it. But Jeongguk’s fingers twitch with excitement, and he wonders if it’s only because he and Yoongi are finally, finally beginning to talk to each other. Properly.
you >>> 3 muske(tae)rs [10:02]
hyung said it’s ok for u guys to come over 2night
jimin [10:05]
sweeeeeeeeeeet
excited to meet ur man ;)
you [10:05]
shu tup
hes no tmy anythign
jimin [10:05]
u know, gukkie
normally i wld agree
you [10:05]
no u wouldnt
jimin [10:05]
but 1. u responded to that within like 6 seconds max
and 2. ur typos say otherwise :))))
you [10:06]
shut up
how did u even know abt that
TAE HYUNG????????
@tae I TOLD U THAT IN CONFIDENCE!!! U WERE SWORN TO SECRECY!!! HOW COULD U DO THIS TO ME!!!!!!!
jimin [10:06]
we’re soulmates!! we tell each other everything!!!!
you [10:06]
hopefully not Everything
jimin [10:06]
;)
taehyungie hyung [10:45]
i just woke up what did i miss
awwww jeonggukkie ur roomie’s so soft for uuu
and ofc i told jimin abt ur cute lil crush
u never said i couldn't
you [10:45]
I DIDNT THINK I NEEDED TO??????????
taehyungie hyung [10:45]
anyways then jiminnie and i will be there by 6pm💕💕💕
omg i can’t wait to see what your yoongi hyung is like
you [10:46]
FUCK YOU
YOU ALREADY KNEW HIM
HE TOLD ME ABOUT THEATER CLUB KIM TAEHYUNG
taehyungie hyung [10:46]
i literally have no idea what you’re talking about
you [10:46]
fuck you
oh right
also
@jimin yoongi hyung said he knows u
cuz ur namjoon hyung’s bf and yoongi hyung is his best friend of like 10 yrs or something
jimin [10:46]
wait
wait ur roommate is MIN yoongi?????
you [10:46]
uh yeah
jimin [10:47]
oh my god
oh my god this is gonna be great
you [10:47]
i don’t really know what that means but ok
✧✧✧
“Jeonggukkie!” is the first thing Jeongguk hears upon opening his front door. Before him are Taehyung and Jimin, the former with his arms open for a hug and the latter with a smile so wide it looks like his skull will break open at any second.
Jeongguk pulls a face. “You’re late.”
“By barely twenty minutes,” says Taehyung as he pushes past Jeongguk through the doorway. Clearly, the hug had been forgotten.
Jimin quickly follows suit, patting Jeongguk’s shoulder as he does. “Tae was napping. I went over to his place to fetch him and his roommates told me he was conked out on his bed.”
“Of course he was,” says Jeongguk, because of course Taehyung was. “That’s so on-brand for him. Come in.”
Jimin winks and nods, doing just that.
As Jeongguk closes the front door behind him and turns around, the first thing he sees is Jimin leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered over his face. He’s staring down at Yoongi, who is currently sitting pin-straight on the couch, his eyes very pointedly focused away.
“So,” Jimin starts, “Yoongi-hyung.”
“Park Jimin,” says Yoongi through gritted teeth.
Jeongguk frowns. “Um?”
“Jeonggukkie,” says Jimin, his gaze not leaving Yoongi’s face. “I was actually with Yoongi-hyung the other day. Namjoon-hyung and I went out for drinks and he joined us.” Jimin’s smile widens, stretching his face as it does. “Yoongi-hyung was telling us all about his new roommate.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi snaps.
“I don’t feel like it,” Jimin retorts, sticking his tongue out. “Anyways! So this is your new place, Jeonggukkie? It’s a little dirtier than I imagined.”
“You can leave,” says Yoongi immediately. “Please, you are more than welcome to leave if my apartment is not on par with your tastes.”
“Nah,” says Jimin, “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”
“Jeongguk,” says Yoongi, his eyes trained on Jimin, “would you mind getting your friends some drinks from the kitchen?”
“Oh!” says Taehyung, skipping over to where Jeongguk is standing and throwing an arm over his shoulders. “I’ll come with you! Do you have orange juice? Or any kind of juice. I’m really craving juice, I don’t know why.”
“We have juice, hyung,” Jeongguk says, plucking Taehyung away from him and gesturing toward the kitchen entrance. “And a lot of different types, too.”
“Excellent,” says Taehyung, licking his lips. “Lead the way, comrade.”
When they come back to the living room, now armed with a tray full of juice varieties, it’s to the sight of Jimin and Yoongi engaged in some kind of staring contest. They’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, the silence deadly surrounding them.
Taehyung sweeps in, picking up one of the glasses and holding it out to the two of them. “Juice, fellas?”
Jimin immediately breaks his eye contact with Yoongi, turning to shoot Taehyung a dashing smile. “I want some!” He looks back over to Yoongi and tilts his head forward. “You, hyung?”
“Whatever,” says Yoongi, voice low and full of something Jeongguk can’t quite place.
So the four of them end up sitting around, huddled together on the floor of Yoongi and Jeongguk’s living room, movie after movie playing on the television. Taehyung’s really the only one who seems to be paying attention to the screen, since Yoongi is playing around with a game on his phone and Jeongguk keeps looking over at him in a way he hopes is discreet. Jimin had ended up getting a call from Namjoon, and he had excused himself to the kitchen to talk to his boyfriend for the next hour and a half.
Really, it’s like they weren’t even there, Jeongguk thinks.
“Oh,” Taehyung whispers a good while later, looking out toward the window. “It’s raining.”
“Is it?” Jimin asks, hoisting himself up from where he’s laying on the floor and scrambling to take a look outside. He whistles. “Damn, it’s pouring.” He glances over to Taehyung, and the two seemingly have some kind of conversation with their eyes. Or something. Jeongguk doesn’t pretend to understand what goes on in the pair of best friends’ heads.
“Jeonggukkie, Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung starts, and oh no, Jeongguk knows that voice. “As our hosts, I think the only appropriate solution to this is for you two to let us stay over for the night.”
“Shouldn’t we decide that?” Yoongi mutters, but there’s careful resignation in his tone. “But yeah, whatever. It’s fine with me. Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk eyes Taehyung and Jimin carefully, the two blinking innocently back at him. Jeongguk thinks that the two of them are the least innocent people on the planet, actually, but oh well.
“Sure,” he says with a shrug, because even though he might not know what’s going on in their heads right now, he’s determined to not let it show. “You guys can room with me. Or you two can take my room and I can sleep out here on the couch.”
“No and no,” says Jimin, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Your bed is probably way too small to fit the three of us, and there’s no way we’re letting you sleep on this pitiful excuse of a couch.”
“Excuse me?” Yoongi cuts in, mildly affronted. “I paid for this couch with my flesh and blood.”
“No one wants to know about your cult activities, hyung,” says Taehyung breezily, and before Yoongi can respond to that, Taehyung is already continuing: “But Jiminnie is right. We can take Jeonggukkie’s room, and Jeonggukkie can room with Yoongi-hyung.”
Oh.
“The other way works too!” Jimin says, smiling devilishly. “Taehyungie and I can take Yoongi-hyung’s room, and Yoongi-hyung can sleep with Jeonggukkie!”
That wording was definitely on purpose, Jeongguk thinks. After all, they came out of Park Jimin’s mouth, and Park Jimin is nothing if not a pain in Jeongguk’s ass.
Jeongguk first glances over to Yoongi, who’s staring at Jimin with the most murderous expression Jeongguk has ever seen on him. And well. Isn’t that just swell. It’s obvious that Yoongi is disgusted with even the thought of sharing a room with Jeongguk for a night, and he’s angry at Jimin for even suggesting something so absurd.
“Ah,” Jeongguk says weakly, ignoring the constricting of his heart, “I don’t think...I don’t think we should—”
Then Yoongi sighs, reaches up, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks at Jeongguk and offers a hesitant smile. “I don’t mind,” he says softly, and Jeongguk feels his heart jump in his chest. “If, I mean...if it’s okay with Jeongguk. I don’t really—I don’t really care. Anything works. For me.”
Jeongguk freezes. “Uh.”
“Then great!” Taehyung chirps, clapping his hands in front of his chest. “Jeonggukkie, can I borrow some pajamas? Jimin can borrow from Yoongi-hyung considering they’re both sho—”
Jimin slaps a hand over Taehyung’s mouth. “I don’t think you want to finish that sentence, Taehyungie.”
Taehyung smiles against his palm.
When Jimin relents, he slips his phone out from his front pocket and holds it up. “I’ll just text Namjoonie-hyung and let him know.”
“Gross,” says Jeongguk.
“You’re gross,” says Jimin.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
So, an hour later, Jeongguk finds himself standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom, a thin set of pajamas hung loosely from his arms. Yoongi is rummaging through his closet, lips curled into a pout.
It’s cute, even though Jeongguk can barely see it through the dim lighting of the room.
“Hyung,” he starts, amusement laced in his voice, “you do realize that all of this could be avoided if you just used more than one pillow in the first place, right?”
Yoongi grumbles something under his breath. Then, “What’s the point in doing that?”
“Comfort,” says Jeongguk immediately. “A sense of security. The feeling of your head resting on a bundle of clouds. A—”
“All right, Edgar Allen Poe, we get it.”
“Edgar Allen Poe was known for short mystery stories and the macabre,” says Jeongguk, leaning his thigh against the edge of the bed. “I think you’re getting your poets mixed up.”
“Who are you then? Stephen King?”
“The American horror author?” Jeongguk asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Hmm...I think I’m sensing a bit of a pattern here. Hyung, is everything okay at home?”
“I failed grade school English,” Yoongi deadpans, then straightens up and shoots him a blank look. “I also can’t find an extra pillow. You can just use mine.”
“What?” Jeongguk blinks. “I can’t do that.”
Yoongi snorts. “Then what else are you gonna use?”
“The bed?”
“The—okay,” says Yoongi. “Okay, sure. So you’re just gonna not use a pillow at all? What happened to the Jeon Jeongguk who apparently needs more than one pillow to sleep on in the first place?”
“He’s dead,” says Jeongguk, a grin licking at the corners of his mouth. “He died thirty seconds ago. Now I’m the Jeon Jeongguk who wants to sleep with his head right on the mattress.”
“Pity,” says Yoongi, like it’s going to change anything. Then he sighs, his shoulder sagging with what Jeongguk recognizes as resignation. “I’ll bundle up a blanket for you, how about that?”
“Anything works,” Jeongguk says earnestly. “I promise I don’t mind just using the mattress itself.”
“Yeah, well I do,” Yoongi mutters, breezing past him, the conversation evidently finished.
Jeongguk smiles.
“Sorry about Taehyung and Jimin,” he says later, when Yoongi is smoothing out the thick blanket atop his bed. “They’re. Uh. Something. I completely understand if you’re not comfortable with...this.” He makes a nebulous hand gesture. “All of this.”
Yoongi’s fingers pause over the quilt, and Jeongguk watches his movements with a bated breath. Then, Yoongi looks up, and he smiles in that special little way of his. His hair hangs over his eyes and his cheeks are round, soft. He looks small.
“Jeongguk-ah,” he says, and Jeongguk’s breath hitches in surprise. “I’m not uncomfortable. I promise.”
“Ah,” says Jeongguk, because words have so obviously always been his strong suit. “Right. Okay.”
Yoongi makes a gesture with his head, his chin jerking down in the direction of the bed. “Um. You wanna…?”
“Yeah,” says Jeongguk, and then he bends down, takes the edge of the blanket between his fingers, and slides beneath it in one swift motion. He looks up at Yoongi, who’s still awkwardly standing to the side of the bed, and raises his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Hyung? You coming?”
“I’m coming,” Yoongi mutters. He hangs his head as he quickly follows suit, and Jeongguk prays to every lord that the beating of his heart is quiet enough so that Yoongi can’t hear. He looks back at the messily folded blanket that Yoongi had made to act as a pillow for him and stifles a laugh.
“Thanks for the fake pillow,” he says, lowering himself down till he’s laying on his back. He rolls over till he’s facing Yoongi, finding the elder already on his side.
“You’re welcome,” Yoongi grunts, curling his thighs up till they press against his chest. “Still don’t know why you won’t just take my stupid real pillow, but whatever.”
“You’re so mean to the poor maybe-real pillow,” says Jeongguk, reaching out with his left arm and patting the spot right by the tuft of Yoongi’s inky black hair. “Don’t listen to it, honey. Papa didn’t mean it when he called you stupid.”
He turns to see Yoongi giving him the most judgemental stare he’s ever seen, and it surprises Jeongguk so much that he’s choking back another bout of laughter.
“What?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear. “This is your child, Yoongi-hyung. If you won’t give it the love it deserves, I will.”
Yoongi raises a delicate brow, and Jeongguk barely catches onto it in the dark. “Don’t call my daughter an it.”
That one really does make Jeongguk laugh out loud. The sound is short, but sudden, and when he’s coming down from the high, he looks over to see Yoongi staring up at him, his eyes wide and his lips parted. Jeongguk immediately shuts up, swallowing down the remains and tucking them away.
Then Yoongi says, “Don’t stop,” and Jeongguk feels his heart fall into his throat.
“What?” he says, but it comes out as barely more than a whisper.
But Yoongi doesn’t repeat himself, nor does he elaborate. Instead, Jeongguk watches as his eyes dart all over his face, as if drinking the sight in. Jeongguk catalogs the barely-there spark into the back of his mind; maybe he’ll know what to make of it later. It’s nothing really, but it’s there. Quiet. Sitting, waiting to strike.
Yoongi shifts backwards, and at first, Jeongguk thinks it’s to get away from him. But then, Yoongi slinks his arm out from beneath the covers and gently taps his fingers against the empty space on his pillow. Jeongguk watches, unmoving, as the invitation is laid bare and out in the open.
He doesn’t have to take it. He knows he doesn’t have to take it. He knows that Yoongi won’t hold it against him if he turns around right now, away, if he makes his back face Yoongi’s frontside. He knows Yoongi won’t say anything if he just pretends like the silent offer hadn’t ever existed.
But Jeongguk does none of that.
He moves, inches closer to Yoongi, right up until his head is pillowed right next to his. Like this, the two are impossibly close, and Jeongguk can feel Yoongi’s breath tickling his upper lip. If he darts just a little further, he could...he would be able to—
Yoongi huffs, effectively interrupting his thoughts. “I did all that work for nothing, making you that pillow,” he says, and Jeongguk feels warm air against his chin.
He smiles and settles in. “Good night, hyung.”
“Good night, Jeonggukkie.”
✧✧✧
The weeks pass in a blur.
Unknown >>> you [12:12]
hi, is this jeon jeongguk?
not sure if you know me, but my name is jung hoseok
you can call me hyung! if you’d like. i’m a friend of yoongi-hyung’s
sorry--i got your number from taehyung. hope that’s ok?
you [12:15]
hi yes i’m jeongguk
i’ve heard of you, yes, hoseok-hyung
hoseok hyung [12:15]
excellent excellent
you [12:15]
you were busy the day jin-hyung wanted to read lines with you?
hoseok hyung [12:15]
dammit
what a terrible first impression
anyways of course i wasn’t actually busy that day. but running lines with jin-hyung is absolutely brutal, so you know
i heard he went to yoongi-hyung about it though lololol
were you there when it happened? tell me everything
you [12:16]
um
right now?
hoseok hyung [12:16]
ok yeah maybe not right now
but at some point!!!
anyways i heard about how you’re yoongi-hyung’s new roommate
i wanted to ask if you’ve seen him today?
you [12:16]
today? i saw him in the morning yeah
hoseok hyung [12:16]
whaaat
he was gonna drop by the studio an hour ago
that’s weird
he never ditches without telling me
i tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail so i was wondering if you knew anything
you [12:17]
what?
is he okay?
hoseok hyung [12:17]
uh
if you’re asking me if he’s dead, my answer is probably not
you [12:17]
probably?????
hoseok hyung [12:17]
you never really know with him
dw i’ll keep looking
he probably got lost somewhere on campus with his camera
that’s happened a few times
you [12:17]
i’ll help you
hoseok hyung [12:17]
oh uh sure
don’t stress yourself too much!!!! everything is probably fine
you [12:17]
“probably”
hoseok hyung [12:17]
yeah you make some valid points
oh my god what if he’s dead
shit
fuckfuckfuck
shit
you [12:18]
i’m going to try to find him
Jeongguk doesn’t panic. Why would he panic? It isn’t like one of Yoongi’s friends just slid into his texts one random afternoon with the most ominous presence ever. It isn’t like Hoseok basically told him that Yoongi is missing.
So, yeah, Jeongguk doesn’t panic.
But he comes close enough.
“Hyung! Yoongi-hyung!” Jeongguk calls as he makes his way through campus, eyes on the search for Yoongi’s telltale black locks. He’s tried calling him a few times, but each one transfers straight over to Yoongi’s voicemail. Hi, sorry, this number can’t be reached right now. Jeongguk is sick of the robotic voice in his ear.
It isn’t till almost twenty minutes of this that Jeongguk finally sees him.
Yoongi is crouched down on his knees in front of a ginormous tree, looking one hundred-percent alive, (thank god,) with a camera in front of his face.
Jeongguk freezes right in his tracks at the sight.
Yoongi’s left eye is scrunched shut, his right looking through the lense of his camera with careful precision. Jeongguk’s gaze wanders over to where the device is being aimed, his lips parting when he sees a small sprout of a plant emerging from between the cracks of dull concrete. Yoongi stays down low, clearly focused on taking the photograph, so Jeongguk stays away for a few moments.
And then, when he sees Yoongi put his camera down and how he lets it hang from the strap around his neck, Jeongguk sucks in a breath for courage and walks straight up to him.
“Hyung.”
Yoongi starts, whirling around. He’s shorter than Jeongguk, so his eyes travel to Jeongguk’s chest first. Then he flinches in surprise, his line of sight slowly trailing upward until—
“Jeonggukkie?”
“Yeah,” says Jeongguk, raising an eyebrow. “Yoongi-hyung. Um. Hi.”
“Holy fuck,” says Yoongi, voice breathy. “You scared the shit out of me.”
You scared the shit out of me, Jeongguk thinks, but of course he doesn’t say that out loud because it simply is not true. Jeongguk doesn’t panic. Jeongguk didn’t panic. It’s all just in his head—he just felt like saying that for a moment because he was overwhelmed with the situation.
So instead he says, “Good.”
“Good?” Yoongi repeats.
Right. Maybe not the best thing to say.
“Hoseok-hyung texted me,” Jeongguk blurts out. “I—he said you were missing.”
“Oh fuck,” Yoongi curses. Jeongguk frowns. “Shit. I was supposed to meet with Hobi at eleven.”
“You were,” Jeongguk nods. “You, uh, didn’t answer your phone either. I tried calling you a few times. So did Hoseok-hyung.”
“My phone died,” says Yoongi, voice sheepish now. He reaches into his back pocket and takes out the small device, holding it up and tapping the screen a few times. Just as expected, nothing happens. “Damn. What a day. Did I worry you?”
“Yes,” says Jeongguk before he can stop himself. He flinches, because what the fuck?
But Yoongi doesn’t look put off by it at all. In reality, his features soften. His eyes curve and the pinch in his eyebrows lessens. Jeongguk stares, and stares, and stares. He stares till he can’t stare anymore, but Yoongi stares back at him. So maybe it’s okay. Or maybe they’re both just weird as fuck. Either option works.
“Um,” says Jeongguk, cutting through the silence. “Hyung, what were you doing?”
“Oh,” says Yoongi. He flushes, color blooming in his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears. The pink tinge is a stark contrast to the black color of his hair, and Jeongguk picks it out against the sunlight with ease. “I got a bit distracted. It always happens when I bring my camera outside with me.”
As if to prove to Jeongguk that this is true, Yoongi holds up his camera with one hand and grins.
“I get that,” says Jeongguk. “It happens to me too, that’s why I keep my camera in my bag when I’m out unless I’m vlogging or something.”
Yoongi hums and nods. “Jeongguk-ah, do you have any more classes today?”
“Today?” Jeongguk thinks about it, briefly running through his weekly schedule in his head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Hold on,” Yoongi murmurs, taking out his phone again and groaning when he sees the blank screen. “Dammit. Forgot about that. Hey—Jeongguk-ah, can I borrow your phone for a moment?”
“Sure,” says Jeongguk, and he hands it over.
Yoongi takes it with a small thanks, holding it up to Jeongguk’s face to take his i.d. before cruising to the messages app. “You said Hobi texted you right? So you have his number?”
“Yeah, it should be the first one.”
“Oh, I see it,” says Yoongi. “Sorry, I just wanted to ask him something super quickly. Gimme a sec.”
Jeongguk gives him several secs. He waits patiently, tapping his shoed toe against the ground and looking out at the crowds of students currently hustling their way to class. He glances back at Yoongi, whose eyebrows are pinched together, his eyes trained on the screen of Jeongguk’s cell phone.
There’s a faint coloring on his cheeks, like a fresh rouge kiss that’s barely scraping the surface of his skin.
And then, Yoongi is looking back up at Jeongguk, embarrassment tinting his features as he quickly swipes something on the screen before handing it back.
“Oops,” he deadpans, “I accidentally deleted your chat with Hobi. How sad.”
Jeongguk furrows his eyebrows; Yoongi doesn’t really sound sad about that at all. On the contrary, it sounds like he did it on purpose.
“Uh,” Jeongguk starts, confused. “That’s okay? I don’t really care. What did you ask him?”
“To reschedule,” says Yoongi, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his green bomber jacket and averting his gaze. “The thing Hobi wanted to see me for isn’t actually important. I thought that...maybe, if you wanted, we could grab something to eat?”
Now this, Jeongguk hadn’t been expecting. Yoongi actually seems kind of...nervous? But what would he be nervous about? Actually, Jeongguk is the one that should be nervous. And he is. Jeongguk’s insides are currently twisting around like strands of a pretzel, barely held together by honey or cream cheese or whatever the hell they put on pretzels these days.
“I’d love to,” is what finally ends up coming out of his stupid mouth. Yoongi, thankfully, seems to like this answer, and he nods slowly in response. Jeongguk continues, “Do you have any place in mind?”
“What do you like to eat?” Yoongi asks.
“Anything,” says Jeongguk, because it’s true.
This makes Yoongi laugh. “I should have guessed as much. I do make quite the variety in my breakfasts.”
“I love your breakfasts,” Jeongguk says earnestly. “I love everything you cook.”
“Yeah?” says Yoongi, shaking his head slightly to even his bangs out. The action just makes his hair fall even more in the way of his eyes, and Jeongguk drinks the sight in like its sugar. “Well, I’m glad you do, then. Am I a good cook?”
“The best, hyung.”
“Good job with the compliments. Keep them coming.”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose. “Don’t make me take it back.” Then, “But, anyways, back to the topic. I really don’t care where we go. Do you have a favorite place in mind?”
Yoongi hums, considering. “There’s this lamb skewer place I’ve been meaning to try out. Do you wanna go there?”
“Sure,” says Jeongguk. He smirks. “Are you buying, hyung?”
“Brat,” Yoongi chides, and Jeongguk giggles under his breath.
Yoongi does end up buying, even though Jeongguk had initially said it more as a joke. But Jeongguk also knows that once Yoongi has set his mind to something, there’s little he can do to change it. And Yoongi, for some reason, is now dead set on buying Jeongguk lamb skewers. So.
Not that Jeongguk is complaining, but still.
They sit at a table outside, right across from each other with a plate to share between them. The air is chilly and the fire pit by their side is toasty, warmth seeping into their fingertips as they reach for skewer after skewer. Yoongi’s voice is low, but smooth, and Jeongguk struggles to keep his mouth shut as he laughs at the silly things his hyung says. Yoongi cracks unfunny jokes and makes teasing faces at Jeongguk’s relentless bullying, often retaliating with some witty remarks of his own, and Jeongguk feels his heart swell up as he listens to every word that leaves Yoongi’s mouth.
Soft words, sweet words, words encased in laughter. Every single one without fail.
✧✧✧
Later that night, Jeongguk sits up in his bed, scrolling through his phone and answering Taehyung’s spam of Snapchats from earlier. He takes a blurry selfie and captions it streaks before sending it back. It always annoys the hell out of Taehyung when he does this, so Jeongguk doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t stop. He lives to make the lives of his friends as miserable as humanly possible.
A notification banner at the top of his screen makes him pause. It’s a text from Hoseok.
hoseok hyung [10:43]
hey jeongguk
thanks for finding hyung today and sorry i gave you a spook ;_;
Jeongguk laughs and clicks to respond.
you [10:43]
that’s okay, hyung!!!
i’m glad i could find him anyways
hoseok hyung [10:43]
haha yeah
get some sleep!! we should hang out for real sometime
i wanna meet hyung’s cool roommate!
you [10:43]
okay!
goodnight hyung!
hoseok hyung [10:44]
goodnight!
Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves to put his phone away, but his eyes catch on to the very top of his screen, and he stops right in his tracks.
“I accidentally deleted your chat with Hobi,” Yoongi had said earlier that day. Jeongguk had pushed it aside, mostly because it didn’t really matter to him whether or not the chat was saved—but he never stopped to consider what the messages Yoongi had sent to Hoseok actually said.
Was this an invasion of privacy?
Probably not.
Maybe?
Nah.
Jeongguk quickly scrolls up, his eyes widening when he sees the amount of texts. Clearly, deleting the chat window doesn’t actually delete the messages. And clearly, Yoongi doesn’t know that.
you [12:52]
i’m ditching u
hoseok hyung [12:52]
jeongguk???
you [12:52]
-_-
hoseok hyung [12:52]
OMG HYUNG??? YOU’RE NOT DEAD????
wait why are you ditching me
what the hell we were supposed to go over the showcase photos today!!!
you [12:52]
we can do that tmrw
i’m gonna go to lunch w jeonggukkie
hoseok hyung [12:52]
wtf
so you’re ditching me to go on a date with your crush
you [12:53]
SHUT THE FUCK UP?
I’M LITERALLY ON HIS PHONE RIGHT NOW TEXTING YOU?
hoseok hyung [12:53]
JUST DELETE THESE MESSAGES BEFORE GIVING JEONGGUK HIS PHONE BACK IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL
you [12:53]
I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP
STOP RESPONDING IM GIVING HIM HIS PHONE BACK BYE
The next message went straight into the real Jeongguk’s conversation with Hoseok from just now, but Jeongguk isn’t focused on any of that.
What he’s focused on is:
so you’re ditching me to go on a date with your crush
and how Yoongi…didn’t deny it? Does yelling SHUT THE FUCK UP count as denial? Is Jeongguk being stupid? He’s always being stupid, but is he being stupid about this?
He imagines it: waking up every morning and greeting Yoongi with a kiss over breakfast, intertwining his fingers with Yoongi’s as they walk through campus, introducing Yoongi to his friends, Yoongi introducing him to his friends—being Yoongi’s boyfriend.
It’s all he’s ever wanted for the past few months that he’s known Yoongi for.
“Oh my god,” he whispers, “oh my god.”
✧✧✧
If Jeongguk isn’t mistaken, those texts meant something.
What did they mean exactly? He isn’t quite sure. He doesn’t really know what’s going on. He doesn’t know what to make of any of this, and who knows? Maybe it’s just a cruel prank. Maybe none of it is actually real.
Jeongguk goes to the only person who could possibly help him with something like this.
“You know,” he says, swirling his straw in his banana smoothie in the shape of a perfect circle, “when I invited you out for lunch, I didn’t say you could bring your boyfriend with you.”
Jimin and Namjoon are sitting across from him at the booth, currently in the middle of some kind of flirting battle. Jeongguk wants bleach for his eyes.
“You also didn’t say I couldn’t bring my boyfriend with me,” says Jimin, plucking the candied cherry off the top of his strawberry milkshake and feeding it to Namjoon. “You really have to start making your instructions clearer, Jeonggukkie.”
Namjoon looks over, shooting Jeongguk an apologetic smile.
Jeongguk sighs.
“Great,” he mutters before taking a long sip. “Now I can’t even—ugh.”
“Aww,” says Jimin, reaching over and booping Jeongguk’s nose. “What’s up, buttercup? Talk to hyung, I’m always here for you.”
“Shut up,” says Jeongguk, and Jimin grins.
But it’s Namjoon who says, “Jeongguk-ah,” which makes Jeongguk blink and look up at him. Namjoon is watching him carefully, his lips pressed together as he seemingly considers something. Then, “Don’t, uh, take this the wrong way, but like. Is this about Yoongi-hyung?”
Oh, god.
Wordlessly, Jeongguk takes out his phone and opens up his chat with Hoseok. He hands it over to Jimin, who takes it with a curious raise of his brows. All of that is gone, however, when he looks down and reads the texts.
Jeongguk grimaces when Jimin’s expression lights up with glee. “I knew it!”
“So it is about Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon says, smiling.
Jeongguk slumps over the table, burying his face in his hands. “I do not want to talk about this with Yoongi-hyung’s best friend.”
“If it helps,” Jimin quips, “Yoongi-hyung actually had to talk to Taehyung about this, so. I guess that makes the two of you kind of even.”
Jeongguk snaps up. “What?”
“Unfortunately I wasn’t there,” Jimin frowns. He leans back in his seat, crossing his legs and inspecting his nails. He blows on them, looking up through his eyelashes. “But from what Taehyungie told me, it was kind of funny. For him. Not for Yoongi-hyung, obviously.” He turns to Namjoon. “God, can you imagine? The guy you like is best friends with Kim Taehyung.”
“No,” says Namjoon, reaching over for his own drink and taking a long sip. He grimaces. “No, I don’t have to imagine.”
Jimin’s eyes widen. “Oh, you’re right.” Then he leans over, pressing his chin right beside the crook of Namjoon’s neck. “Sorry about Taetae, hyung. That must have been quite the experience for you.”
“It was fine,” says Namjoon slowly, but his face tells them that it’s really anything but fine.
“Well,” says Jimin, “at least now you have another thing to bond with Yoongi-hyung over.”
“Hold on,” says Jeongguk, swallowing a particularly large gulp of his smoothie and pushing the half-empty glass aside. He stares directly at Jimin, his eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about? Yoongi-hyung talked to Taehyung-hyung? About what?”
“About you!” Jimin exclaims, like that answers literally any of Jeongguk’s questions at all. If anything, it just adds more questions. “Jeonggukkie, I think everyone already knew that the two of you are madly in love with each other. You know, except you and Yoongi-hyung yourselves.”
Jeongguk stares at him blankly.
“Anyways,” Jimin continues, waving a hand, “you know how Taehyungie is. He cornered Yoongi-hyung a few weeks ago and grilled him. Stuff like if you even think of hurting my best friend, Min Yoongi, you are going to feel the wrath of—”
Namjoon nudges Jimin’s shoulder. “I think he gets the point.”
“Oh,” says Jimin. “Right! Well.”
“And Yoongi-hyung…” Jeongguk trails off, swallowing. He searches for the right words, but what can he even say? “Yoongi-hyung said that he…”
Before Jimin can respond, Namjoon is reaching out, patting Jeongguk’s shoulder firmly and offering him an encouraging hum. “I think that maybe you should ask Yoongi-hyung that yourself.” At Jeongguk’s helpless look, Namjoon continues, “I’ve known Yoongi-hyung for the better part of my life, and he’s, uh, kind of an idiot about these kinds of things. He wants to tell you, I promise.”
“He does?” Jeongguk asks weakly.
Namjoon shrugs. “Sure. But you know—he’s selfless like that. Doesn’t want to force you to make a decision you don’t want to make.”
“But I do want to make it,” says Jeongguk immediately. “Of course I want to be with him.”
Namjoon gives him a look, and Jeongguk thinks he understands.
✧✧✧
It goes like this:
"Are you sleepy?" Yoongi asks, leaning over the back of the couch and poking Jeongguk's cheek.
Jeongguk jerks up, sleepy eyes fluttering open and meeting Yoongi's from below. He inhales sharply when he takes in their close proximity, swallowing down his nerves and blinking a few times. He feels heat on his cheeks, but ignores it, suppresses it down as Yoongi's gaze on him lingers.
It's been two weeks.
"No," he says, turning back around to see his dead laptop screen. "I can't be sleepy, my favorite show is about to release a new episode."
"Your—okay," says Yoongi, sounding exasperated. It's fond, however, and Jeongguk drinks it in like milk. "Your favorite show, huh?"
"It's very important to me," Jeongguk says seriously.
"It's also almost midnight," Yoongi says matter-of-factly.
Jeongguk grins. "And you'll never guess what time my episode comes out."
"Of course," says Yoongi, his voice lighter this time. "Of course. Are you really just going to sit here on the couch while you wait?"
Jeongguk looks back over his shoulder, his eyes grazing over Yoongi's figure. It's dark, the only light coming from the dim lamp in the corner of their small living room. Yoongi's face is illuminated with the warm red glow, his eyes sparkling as he looks down at Jeongguk. He doesn't move. Neither of them move.
"Yeah," Jeongguk says finally, forcing the word out of him. "Where else would I?"
"Your room, maybe?"
"Boring," says Jeongguk.
Yoongi adopts a strange look, one that Jeongguk doesn't know how to read. Then Yoongi says, "My room, then?"
Jeongguk's eyes widen.
He waits for the punch line, the I'm just joking, Jeonggukkie. But it never comes. Yoongi says nothing to elaborate, the offer ringing soundly in the air around them.
"Sure," says Jeongguk, because he wants. He wants. "If that's okay with you."
Yoongi exhales, and it's loud enough that Jeongguk can hear him. "It's okay with me," he says, then walks around the bend of the couch and reaches his hand out. He raises an expectant eyebrow, and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to look down at the pale hand hovering in front of his chin. It's a nice hand, he decides. It's a really nice hand. It would be nice to hold.
So Jeongguk does just that—he holds Yoongi's hand, his laptop tucked beneath his other arm, and he follows Yoongi into the hallway, past his own bedroom, and right to the second door.
"You wanna sit on my desk?" Yoongi asks, pointing over to the cluttered desk. There are papers and strips resembling film scattered around in random stacks, and it definitely does not look like a place where Jeongguk can set up his laptop.
"Um."
As if reading his thoughts, Yoongi quickly turns back to him and shakes his head. "On second thought, maybe not. Just sit on the bed with me."
It's said so casually, just sit on the bed with me, like Jeongguk isn't currently overthinking every single second of this interaction. He swallows and nods, his heart burning brightly in his chest.
They had already changed into their pajamas earlier, so Yoongi leads them over to the bed and lifts the quilt up. He raises his eyebrows, gesturing for Jeongguk to get himself settled in. He then reaches for the night lamp by his desk and switches it on, walking over to the main light of the room and turning it off. Jeongguk watches as the room is bathed in sudden gloom, but it doesn't feel wrong. It feels nice—warm, cozy.
So he slips underneath the covers and nestles his laptop in his lap.
"Night, Jeonggukkie," Yoongi mutters, rolling over till he's curled up in a small ball with his back facing Jeongguk. Jeongguk glances down to him, a smile ghosting his lips, and he shakes his head softly before turning his attention back to his computer.
“Oh my god,” Jeongguk whispers about thirty minutes later, through snot and tears and a wet pajama sleeve. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”
There’s a groan from beside him, then the sound of bed sheets rustling. Jeongguk hiccups through his tears, guilt prodding at his heart at the realization that he's woken Yoongi.
“The hell are you doing?”
Jeongguk wants to respond to that with a proper answer, he really does, but all that comes out is a long wail.
“Are you crying?” comes Yoongi’s voice again, this time a little louder. The lump at next to Jeongguk's side shifts, and soon, Yoongi is sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What is it?" he mumbles. "Jeonggukkie? Did something happen?”
“Dianxia,” Jeongguk howls.
A pause.
Yoongi seems to get used to the darkness of the room, and then he's squinting to better look at Jeongguk's tear-streaked face. "Are you...okay?"
"No," says Jeongguk, sniffling. "Are any of us truly okay, hyung?"
"Okay," says Yoongi. "I'm going to assume something tragic happened in your show."
Jeongguk shakes his head. "The opposite." He points to his brightly lit screen, currently paused. "Look. They're lovers—the one in the white and the one in the red."
"I...I see," says Yoongi slowly, inching up till he's completely pressed up against Jeongguk's side. Jeongguk sucks in a short breath at the feeling of Yoongi's arm against his, but he's too overwhelmed to say anything about it. "So you're crying because...these two are in love?"
"Yeah," says Jeongguk, before bursting into tears again. He automatically leans further into Yoongi, his wet face making direct contact with the skin of Yoongi's exposed shoulder.
Yoongi freezes, but Jeongguk just nuzzles closer, because whatever. It's almost one o'clock in the morning and Yoongi is so close and Yoongi isn't pushing him away and Yoongi woke up because Jeongguk was crying and Yoongi is the best person Jeongguk knows and he's sick. He's sick of this. He's sick of not being able to say anything about his feelings to Yoongi. He's sick of being scared.
"Hyung," he starts before he can stop himself, "do you like me?"
Yoongi stiffens against Jeongguk's body. Jeongguk can feel it.
He goes on, "Do you? Please say you do. I—I think you do, but I don't...I'm not sure. So I want to ask you. I don't want any misunderstandings. Because, um, I do. I really like you, hyung. I think I liked you from the first day we met, which is so crazy, but I did. I like you a lot."
"Jeonggukkie—"
"It's okay if you don't like me too," Jeongguk quickly adds, leaning back and wincing when he realizes that he probably just made a mess of Yoongi's shirt. "It's. Um. It's also okay if you never want to see me again after this. Just maybe don't kick me out. Please. I kind of need this apartment. We can avoid each other! I'm really good at avoiding people. Once I avoided Taehyungie-hyung for, like, four days because I was mad at him. I don't remember why I was mad, but—"
"Jeongguk."
Jeongguk's mouth snaps shut with a sharp clack. He waits.
Then, the last thing he expected to happen happens.
Yoongi shudders like it's the middle of winter, like it's cold and he needs a heater or a thicker blanket wrapped around him. His arm comes up, and Jeongguk feels it slide up his back, right up till his fingers are gripping Jeongguk's shoulder and he's pulling him into his chest.
Jeongguk falls into him before he realizes what's happening.
"Yes," Yoongi whispers, "yes, yes, yes. Jeongguk—Jeongguk-ah, yes."
"Hyung?" Jeongguk mumbles against Yoongi's front.
"Yes, I like you," says Yoongi, and Jeongguk feels his heart squeeze with relief. It washes over him like a waterfall, like this was how it was always meant to be. "I like you so much. Jeonggukkie, yes."
"Hyung," says Jeongguk, voice warbling as he feels the tears resurface. "I'm gonna start crying again."
“Don’t,” says Yoongi, and then he reaches his free hand out, grasps Jeongguk’s jaw, and kisses him.
It’s not a very good kiss. It’s actually pretty bad, considering Jeongguk’s face is splotched with tears and he probably tastes like salt. But if Yoongi notices, or cares, he doesn't say anything. Instead he pushes closer till Jeongguk's laptop falls off his lap and lands sideways on the corner of the bed. And then Jeongguk is reaching up and cupping Yoongi's face and leaning in and oh fucking hell.
Yoongi's fingers find the nape of Jeongguk's neck, and they card through the ends of his hair as Jeongguk makes a quiet sound in retaliation. He scrambles for Yoongi's waist, pulling at him till he's climbing on top of his thighs and settling in, surging forward like kissing Jeongguk's mouth is his one true calling in life. Jeongguk likes the thought of that. He also likes this: Yoongi, Yoongi's lips, Yoongi's bangs sweeping across his forehead, Yoongi's hands cradling his cheeks with so much care, so much love.
And then, when they break away, Jeongguk licks his lips and says, “I was crying. That was gross.”
“You’re gross,” Yoongi retorts, and he’s laughing.
“You like me, gross or otherwise.”
And Yoongi smiles. He pulls him in again. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I do.”