Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘I hate my life.’ Yoongi sighs, waiting for Hoseok to gather their luggage on the pavement. 

‘May I recommend perspective, your highness,’ Hoseok says curtly, heaving one of Yoongi’s suitcases out of the car. Jung Hoseok’s assigned to his guard, and the only person in this whole university who knows his real identity. 

‘I’m being forced against my will!’ Yoongi grumbles, tucking his hands deeper into the pockets of his Burberry coat. His dressers arranged a whole new wardrobe for him to keep up the pretence that he’s a regular student and not the Crown Prince of a small island just off the coast. He had to fight tooth and nail to keep this coat - which in Yoongi’s world means he just said ’no’ - and it might as well be the only home comfort he’s afforded. 

That and, well, Hoseok, who’s already looking mightily unimpressed. 

‘Perhaps you could take one, your grace? It would be a great help.’ 

‘Surely we don’t have to deliver the bags to the room ourselves. There’s got to be people for that.’

Hoseok laughs and Yoongi scowls. 

‘I don’t think it works that way, sir.’ He nods at the pile of bags and Yoongi picks the lightest one. 

‘How far are we expected to carry them?’

Hoseok takes out his phone and pulls up the campus map from his emails. ‘We’re here,’ he says, pointing to the taxi drop off. ‘Station’s in that direction, and the halls of residence are… oh, hang on.’ Hoseok zooms out and rotates his phone. Maps have never been his strong point. 

‘Lost?’ 

They both turn at the voice and oh. 

Yoongi admires the boy’s double-breasted black wool coat as he jogs over, then his details come into focus and he can’t be certain this boy isn’t a prince too with his luscious fluffy curls falling into the most beautiful eyes Yoongi’s ever seen. If he’s not a prince, he could be a model otherwise he has no business having legs that long, thighs that-

‘Yeah actually,’ Hoseok laughs, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. ‘Could you tell us in what dire-‘ he coughs ‘-where Regency Halls is…at?’

‘Of course!’ 

Smooth, Yoongi mouths at Hoseok, rolling his eyes as the stranger takes a glance at the map and points to the right block. Then he pulls down his mask to reveal a dazzling boxy smile, and Yoongi’s taken aback. He actually staggers half a step because maybe things are already looking up. A handsome stranger to the rescue. He snickers at the thought, which only makes the man turn to him with a grin that pushes at his cheeks, turning his eyes to crescents. 

Yoongi’s stomach swoops, and if he hadn’t taught himself how not to blush as a child, then he’d be head-to-toe strawberry red right now. 

‘Okay, so what you’re gonna wanna do is go left at the top there, and follow the street till you hit the postbox-‘

Yoongi tunes the rest out, already stuck for choice between staring at the stranger’s cherry lips, glazed a little outside the lines with chapstick, or his shining hazel eyes framed with impossibly long lashes. 

‘Does that make sense?’ 

‘Yeah, I got it,’ Hoseok says. ‘Thank you so much!’ 

‘No problem! I live there too. I’d totally help you carry your things but I’ve got a tutorial, and if I miss another one the TA’s gonna bite my head off.’ Taehyung giggles - of course it’s just as cute as him - and Yoongi’s mood picks up at the idea of running into Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome again. 

‘I’m Taehyung, by the way.’

‘Hoseok.’ He places a hand on his chest.

‘Hoseok,’ Taehyung repeats with a nod one beat after Hoseok says it, probably to solidify the name in his memory. 

‘And that’s, um,’ Hoseok swallows. 

‘Yoongi.’

He’s meant to be using a fake name, but Yoongi can’t miss the opportunity to hear it in Taehyung’s deep buttery tones. 

‘Yoongi,’ Taehyung says, and he watches enthralled by the way Taehyung’s lips wrap around the name. 

‘Pleasure,’ Yoongi says, side-eyeing Hoseok as he holds his hand out. 

Taehyung seems absolutely delighted by the formality and shakes Yoongi’s hand with vigour and another giggle. ‘I best get going,’ he says, holding Yoongi’s hand for a little longer than necessary, and Yoongi ducks his head at the look Taehyung gives him - a clear once over. ‘But I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.’

Hoseok waves as Taehyung jogs in the opposite direction and scoffs when he easily reads Yoongi’s expression. A lifetime of being by the prince’s side, and taking more than a few earfuls about the potential suitors Yoongi’s parents liked to set their son up with, will do that. 

‘See,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows. ’It might not be all bad.’  

*

‘No,’ Yoongi says, his nightmares come to light in the dirty socks strewn across his bed, crisp packets overflowing from the bin, and empty bottles lined up on the windowsill. ‘It’s worse.’

Hoseok pats his shoulder. ‘I’m sure there’s been a mix up, your highness. This room is clearly already occupied.’ 

Yoongi makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.

‘Shall we see the other room? If it is more to your tastes, of course we will swap.’

‘Call the school,’ Yoongi says, raising his chin. ‘Have them remove my-’  he shivers, struggling not to gag on the word ‘-roommate.’ 

‘Very good, sir.’ 

Hoseok steps out, leaving Yoongi to take a full turn of the room. 

It’s no bigger than a broom closet.

He yearns for his suite. The silk sheets, goose-feather pillows, four-poster bed. It seems so far away here in this dingy student block. The dusty pot pourri on the desk and faded car freshener his roommate has looped over the window handle do nothing to mask the stale scent Yoongi can’t quite put his finger on. If he had to guess he’d say it was the smell of an underachiever. 

There are two beds - not bunks (a small mercy) - two desks side-by-side and one wardrobe. What are they supposed to do? Share? Yoongi shimmies his hand into his sleeve so he doesn’t have to touch the handle and tentatively pulls open the door. 

Perhaps he underestimated his roommate. There are several loud Gucci shirts - surely not genuine - a velour jacket, lots of shoes, but ew no. Corduroy pants. Turning his nose at his roommate’s questionable taste, he goes to examine the desks instead. There’s a half empty mug that doesn’t look like it’s been rinsed out in between drinks. As he leans over the desk to look out the window, the mug tips in slow motion, bathing a stack of photos in cold drinking chocolate. The table jolts as he rears back and the prints are knocked onto the floor, scattering.  Chocolate drips onto his shoes. Dumbstruck, steps back and hears a crunch as his foot crushes what he thinks is a moulded tteokbboki crisp into a black and white portrait. 

He looks up to catch Hoseok’s face as he comes back, hanging up the call. 

‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid, your highness. Without compromising our cover, I couldn’t provide a reasonable excuse as to why they would need to change the dorm arrangements.’ 

‘What about drugs?’ Yoongi sighs. ‘We could say he was growing cannabis in those…’ Yoongi scans the room. ‘Retro Disney World mugs…’ he trails off and groans. 

‘That would lead to an investigation, and bring all kinds of trouble onto your roommate unduly, which I’m certain for which we would not want to be responsible.’ Hoseok lets out a breath. ‘Best to-‘ he clears his throat ‘-make the best of it.’ 

‘Gross,’ Yoongi mutters, turning in resignation to the unmade beds. ‘Well which is mine? His stuff is everywhere.’ Except he makes stuff sound like garbage. 

‘Let’s check the other room first, your highness. It may be more to your liking.’ 

Yoongi nods, clutching his bag closer to his side. ‘Lead on.’ 

Hoseok checks the corridor before stepping out. Yoongi walks two paces behind and Hoseok looks back every few steps. They have to go to the next floor to find Hoseok’s room, which Yoongi thinks kind of defeats the purpose of having a guard. 

No one will recognise you, his mother had said after having one of the stylists bleach his hair a buttery blonde. Yoongi rolled his eyes at the thought. Excellent, he wasn’t being thrown to the wolves, but presented on a silver platter with an apple between his teeth.

Unlike Yoongi’s room, the current occupant of Hoseok’s is inside and answers the tentative rattling of the handle. 

‘You must be Hoseok!’ Immediately Hoseok’s engulfed in a hug by a shorter blond boy. ‘I’m Jimin. Oh! You brought a friend!’

Jimin releases Hoseok from his grip and goes to embrace Yoongi until he’s met with Hoseok’s firm palm on his chest. ‘That’s the- Yoongi.’

‘Nice to meet you Yoongi,’ Jimin says brightly, beckoning them inside. Hoseok visibly flinches at the casual use of Yoongi’s given name. 

‘Gosh, I haven’t had a roommate in ages! The last one dropped out after two weeks, couldn’t hack it, I guess. Can you believe? Fancy getting all those loans just to dip-’ Jimin chatters on as Yoongi assesses the room. 

It’s still messy, but not the pigsty he’s expected to live in. He knows Hoseok hates mess so is sure he’ll have Jimin under control in no time. The window is also north facing onto the quad. Despite his roommate’s “lifestyle”, Yoongi would prefer the south-facing room, so he supposes sacrifices have to be made.

‘Actually, Jimin, I might not be your-’

‘The other room has more light,’ Yoongi announces. ‘You may have this one.’ 

Hoseok nods and Jimin quirks an eyebrow, bewildered. 

‘Uh, his room is unsatisfactory,’ Hoseok explains. ‘His roommate’s never heard of a vacuum, so…’

Jimin laughs. ‘I know someone like that. Yeah, that’s rough, but I promise I’ll keep my side organised now that you’re here.’ He holds out his pinky. ‘Don’t leave me hanging!’

Hoseok chuckles and loops their pinkies together, sealing it with the press of their thumbs. 

Jimin looks between Hoseok and Yoongi. 

‘Do you want me to step out while you unpack your things? I cleaned a shelf in the bathroom for you.’ 

Shared bathrooms. Yoongi feels faint and Hoseok tries not to look too worried.

‘No, that’s quite alright. Actually, we were going to find some food-‘

‘Perfect.’ Jimin grins. ‘I had plans to meet Taetae and Joonie for dinner, and you can join us! You too, Yoongi, if you’re up for it?’ 

Hoseok flashes a nervous look at Yoongi, awaiting his approval. 

Yoongi swallows a sigh and says, with all the enthusiasm he can muster, ‘sounds great.’

Jimin leads them downstairs and they cut across the quad to the main wing of the accommodation block. It’s a cafeteria straight out of the high school dramas Yoongi begrudgingly admits he likes watching.

‘Look, Namjoon saved us a space.’ 

Yoongi can make out the guy’s dimples from across the room. Namjoon stands up at their approach, and Yoongi can’t help being a little intimidated by his height. He reminds Yoongi of the Baron’s meathead son he knows back home. Daniel was good at finding secluded spots away from the gardener’s prying eyes but talking to him was no better than making conversation with the fountain statues.

 ‘New faces,’ Namjoon says with a smile that shows off all his teeth. ‘Where’d you find these ones, Jiminie?’ He sits down again and bumps his knees against the table. Yoongi withholds his snort as Namjoon’s face twists in embarrassment.  

Jimin sits by Namjoon so Hoseok and Yoongi can sit together.

‘Hoseok’s my new roomie.’ Jimin’s smile is so wide his eyes close. ‘And Yoongi’s moving in today too.’ 

‘Half way through the semester?’

‘Well-’ 

‘It was a reluctant change,’ Yoongi cuts in before Hoseok can tie himself in knots trying to explain, knowing from experience that he can’t handle even the whitest of lies. Not the best pick for his guard while away, but Yoongi refused anyone else. Jung Hoseok is the Head of the Royal Guard’s son. Both he and Yoongi grew up in the palace, and became friends during their few shared tutoring sessions when they were kids. Hoseok felt he had something to prove to his father about protection, even though Yoongi already felt safe with him. 

’If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you-?’

‘My parents are kinda pushy,’ Yoongi says at the same time Hoseok says, ‘Wanted to be further away from home.’

‘Ah, of course.’ Namjoon nods. ‘It’s important to put your own roots down, and you don’t wanna be following what your parents tell you all your life.’ 

Yoongi pulls his collar away from his neck and laughs bitterly, thinking about how his puppet strings have a lot of stretch.

‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starved,’ Jimin says. ‘Now that we’re here, you can go get something, Joonie. You guys too. I’ll save the table.’ 

Oh goodie. Mass produced cafeteria food. He can’t wait. Yoongi follows Hoseok and Namjoon to the buffet tables and wrinkles his nose at the steaming metal tins. Hoseok drools at the choice and greedily opens each lid. 

‘If you don’t like any of the day’s options, you can get takeaway orders delivered to the reception desk,’ Namjoon explains when it doesn’t look like Yoongi’s going to touch anything. ‘Tacos are on Tuesdays, though. I’d recommend going light on lunch so you can eat your fill.’

Yoongi holds his plate next to Hoseok’s and points at the lid he just opened. Hoseok ladles a lentil curry onto his plate then pauses serving himself to add napkins, cutlery and a soda to Yoongi’s tray. Yoongi gets out his phone and looks at his new schedule while Hoseok serves him, not noticing how Namjoon watches them with an unfiltered curiosity. 

They take their food back to the table and Yoongi uses the napkin to wipe his cutlery before laying it across his lap. 

Jimin giggles at the display, and Hoseok quickly brushes it off by joining in like Yoongi’s doing a bit, gently pushing Yoongi’s shoulder. 

As they eat, they get what Jimin calls ‘the boring talk about their majors’ out of the way. Yoongi didn’t have much of a choice with political-science, and of course Hoseok got dragged into it too, to which even after only knowing Hoseok an hour, Jimin takes as a skeptical choice. Namjoon’s double majoring in philosophy and art history and Jimin’s taking dance. As Namjoon’s telling them about his favourite places on campus to study, Yoongi notices two guys approaching the table. The taller of the two puts a finger to his lips and the longer haired one points at Namjoon to stop Yoongi from looking at them. Instinctively Hoseok budges closer to Yoongi as the broad-shouldered guy pounces on Namjoon’s back - thankfully once Namjoon’s put his chopsticks down otherwise the bear hug would quickly become the Heimlich. Namjoon leans back into the embrace and pats the man’s wrist as it wraps around his middle. 

The long haired guy has six piercings in each ear, and ruffles Jimin’s hair with his black nails. Jimin squarks, swatting him away, but budges up on his seat to make room just the same. 

‘Hoseok, Yoongi, these goons are Seokjin and Jungkook,’ Jimin says. 

Seokjin unwraps himself from Namjoon and slips into the seat next to him, immediately pulling Namjoon’s half-full plate towards himself and plucking the chopsticks right out of Namjoon’s hands. ‘Hey. You a’right?’ 

‘Which one’s your new roomie?’ Jungkook asks, similarly picking off of Jimin’s plate, but his hand gets slapped away. 

‘That’d be me,’ Hoseok says, raising his hand. 

‘You’re gonna have to get used to Jungkook crashing with us sometimes, Hoseok, you’d think with calf muscles that size a couple flights of stairs wouldn’t hurt-‘

‘Hey! Try having your room on the top floor, see how you like it! Besides you looooove me.’

Jimin giggles and rolls his eyes. 

’Besides, Tae’s worse actually climbing an extra flight just to sleep in your bed,’ Jungkook says. ‘The amount of times I’ve walked in to see you tangled together.’

‘Taetae sleeps better holding someone,’ Jimin says, clear he’s said it a hundred times before.

Yoongi glances at Namjoon and Seokjin’s now linked hands, then back to Jungkook who has his arm around Jimin. It gives him a stomach-ache. Or maybe that’s just the cafeteria food. 

‘This Tae your boyfriend too or something?’ Yoongi asks, genuinely curious.

‘He’s my soulmate,’ Jimin says.

‘So…yes?’ The friends laugh together like Yoongi told a joke. ‘No then?’ 

But as they keep chuckling it doesn’t seem like he’s going to get a better explanation.

‘Where is Tae anyway?’ Seokjin asks around a mouthful of food. 

‘Oh, he texted me like half an hour ago to say he had to sort something out before coming down,’ Jimin says. ‘He said to save him some of the good stuff.’

And where are they serving that? Yoongi thinks.

‘So, what about your roommate, Yoongi, have you met yet?’ Namjoon asks.

‘Uh, no. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll transfer out so I can get a single.’ 

‘You can dream,’ Seokjin says. ‘Or you can just save up so you can live off campus like me.’ 

‘Believe me, I tried,’ Yoongi says. It was the first compromise he pitched to his parents. He’d go to the stupid university if he got to pick where he stayed. But living in student accommodation was one of the Queen’s strict guidelines. How could he have an authentic college experience if all he had to do was turn up to the lectures? No, the rules were to live on campus, attend classes and even join extracurriculars. If he provided proof of all of those things then they’d raise his weekly allowance, which at the moment only covered the cost of food and the laundromat. Yoongi’s hoping for early release on account of good behaviour. 

‘It’s not so bad,’ Namjoon says. 

‘You’re kidding?’ Yoongi makes a face. ‘I still don’t know whether I’m living with a human or a pig.’

Seokjin snorts. ‘What’s his name? Maybe we know him.’

Yoongi waves his hand dismissively. As if he’s meant to remember such trivial details. 

‘I can look it up,’ Hoseok says, pulling out his phone and combing through Yoongi’s emails for the roommate assignments. ‘His name’s-’

‘TAEHYUNG!’ Jimin shouts, and if Jungkook’s reflexes weren’t so quick he would’ve been knocked out by Jimin’s wild waving arm. ‘Over here!’

Yoongi looks round because surely not- and chokes on his mouthful of curry. 

It’s him. 

The radiant boxy smile from the definitely-not-an-actual prince vanishes though as he marches to the table, holding the tension of the entire world in his shoulders. He slams his palms down on the table next to Yoongi. 

‘You won’t fucking believe this! My new absolute fucking bastard of a roommate messes with my stuff, completely wrecks my project - you remember how long it took me to put those photos in order, and I don’t have the printing allowance to print them again, god! - and doesn’t even have the fucking decency to stick around to say sorry!’ Taehyung lets out a long groan and dumps his satchel next to a vacant seat. Then he sits down with a huff, once again showing off a smile that could make flowers bloom. ‘Anyway, good evening, fellas, what’s up with you?’ His smile doesn’t falter when he takes in the newcomers. ‘Oh hey! Found it alright then! Amazing!’

‘You know each other?’ Jimin asks, a quizzical tilt to his brows.

‘Only briefly,’ he says. ‘Hard to forget, though,’ he says, shamelessly looking at Yoongi. 

‘Well turns out Hoseok’s my new roomie, and Yoongi’s-’

‘Your new absolute fucking bastard of a roommate,’ Yoongi finishes, meeting Taehyung’s wide eyes. It’s almost comical the way the grins slips right off his face as Yoongi watches him put the pieces together in real time. ‘Go figure.’ 

Chapter Text

Never in his life has Yoongi felt such obvious hatred directed towards him. Taehyung ices over for the rest of the meal, and if he wasn’t so prideful of getting there first, Yoongi would move to sit somewhere else. A brief glance at Hoseok who’s chatting animatedly with Jungkook and Jimin also puts that out of the question. 

He doesn’t contribute much to conversations, only answering questions if they’re directed at him. 

‘We never eat dessert here,’ Namjoon says, tidying his tray. ‘There’s an ice cream place not far away, though. You wanna go?’ 

‘No,’ Yoongi says at the same time Hoseok forgets himself and says, ‘yes!’ 

Hoseok tempers his disappointment. ‘Oh yeah, I should probably unpack my things.’

‘Ah, you can leave that for later; we’ll help you,’ Jimin says, reaching over to pat Hoseok’s hand. 

Taehyung scoffs, giving Yoongi a look as if to say don’t think I’ll be helping you, as if Yoongi wants him touching his things in the first place. 

Hoseok tilts his head at Yoongi. ‘No, I should stay. You guys go ahead, though, I’m sure you’ll have a lovely evening.’

Jungkook shrugs and proceeds to stack everyone’s trays and carry them to the cleaning station. 

‘It’s on me?’ Seokjin offers, one last bid to tempt them. 

Can this lot seriously not take no for an answer? Yoongi doesn’t know how many times he’s going to have to say it. He only just remembers to add thank you. 

‘Taehyungie, you coming?’ Jimin asks. 

Taehyung nods, not being subtle as he curls his lip in Yoongi’s direction. 

‘Alright, well…’ Jimin reluctantly gets up from the bench, cautiously looking between his soulmate and Yoongi, probably thinking it’s for the best. ‘See you later.’ 

Yoongi and Hoseok watch as the rest leave. Taehyung is the only one not to spare a wave in their direction. 

Yoongi sits on one of the desk chairs sipping coffee as Hoseok rubs fabric cleaner into the mattress. The coffee’s no where near the standards he’s used to but it was free from the machine downstairs, and his funds don’t stretch to buying fancy drinks. 

Hoseok leans back on his heels and wipes his brow. ‘Could you-?’ He starts, then stops himself, clambering off the mattress to open the window to help air out the room. Yoongi has a sneaking suspicion that Taehyung won’t be back any time soon. Perhaps he’ll have done enough to drive Taehyung out to sleep with Jimin. Four to one room, and one in his sounds about fair. 

Hoseok found the box with their sheets, and separates the four-hundred thread count from the twenty-percent and starts to wrestle Yoongi’s duvet into the cover. 

‘Have you heard from your parents, your highness?’ 

‘Not as of yet.’ Yoongi sighs. 

‘Perhaps you should send them a message to let them know everything’s okay.’ 

Yoongi rolls his eyes but acquiesces. ‘Everything is decidedly not okay.’

‘Your bathroom is clean,’ Hoseok says, shaking his head. ‘That’s something.’ He’d spent almost an hour scrubbing everything down with bleach and other disinfectants Yoongi had never heard of before. The downside of it was that Taehyung was getting a free clean out of it as well. It should be Taehyung on his knees scrubbing mould from the grouting not Hoseok. 

‘And for the most part, the people are nice,’ Hoseok says, looking at the floor. 

‘What of it? It’s not like we’re here to make friends.’

‘Actually, your highness, is that not exactly why we are here?’ 

‘Don’t contradict me,’ Yoongi drawls, not really annoyed. ‘We’re here because my parents want to make a point. A stupid point if you ask me, but I figure if I do what they want, I can get us out of here by Christmas.’

Hoseok holds back his sigh. ‘Perhaps you could leak your location to the press? Surely they’d summon you back immediately.’

‘That’s exactly what they’ll be expecting. And the blame will likely fall on you, rather than me. Believe it or not, I’d be hurt if you were dismissed.’  

Hoseok snorts. ‘Hm, most obliged, your grace.’ 

‘I mean it,’ Yoongi says. ‘Look, if we’re to make it through this, then we can’t risk suspicion. You have to relax around me. Loosen your speech.’

‘It’s a two way street, your highness,’ Hoseok says, folding his arms across his chest. 

Yoongi frowns. ‘What do you mean?’ 

‘I hate to sound rude, or ungrateful for the opportunity, but you have me cleaning your bathroom, making your bed. With all due respect, your highness, I don’t do that at the palace. And you know I’m not going to do your assignments for you, right?’ 

Yoongi’s frown deepens. ‘You’re getting paid to be here. To do that stuff.’ 

‘No, I’m here as your guard. To keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t come to harm. Not as your butler. And I don’t get paid to be your friend,’ Hoseok says. ‘Unless you want to treat it that way, in which case, I think I’ve more than finished my shift for the evening…’

‘No, don’t go,’ Yoongi says, putting his coffee down and going to Hoseok. ‘I-’

Hoseok picks up one of the pillowcases and holds it out in Yoongi’s direction. It’s more than doing a chore. It’s promising that he’ll do more, maybe not half - that’s a stretch - but the whole point of this was about the learning experience. If he doesn’t stop acting so much like a prince then Hoseok will report back to his parents as such, and he’ll be forced to stay here longer than necessary. 

Yoongi hesitates. He can’t have Hoseok turning against him, otherwise he really will be all alone here. He doesn’t take the pillowcase, but grabs one of the pillows from the bed. Hoseok huffs through his nose and opens up the case. Yoongi proceeds to ram the pillow inside. 

‘Alright, alright, I’ll do that,’ Hoseok says, gently taking the pillow from Yoongi and plumping it properly. ‘There. That wasn’t so hard, was it, your highness?’ He grins. 

‘You can drop the your highness, okay? It’s Yoongi to you.’

‘In that case, Yoongi, you better start calling me Hobi. Hoseok’s far too formal. Besides our cover story is best friends from childhood, you’d have a nickname for me.’ 

Yoongi nods. ‘I can do that. The best lies are those closest to the truth.’

They share small smiles as they finish making the bed. For a second Yoongi can actually believe they are friends, true friends, that Hoseok likes him for him, not because he’s been told to put Yoongi above himself all these years. 

Together, they unpack the rest of Yoongi’s belongings, then Hoseok checks the time. ‘I should really go and sort out my stuff, and… I want to be there when Jimin gets back.’ 

‘Don’t want him to get any wrong ideas about us.’  

Hoseok coughs to hide his surprise. ‘We could do that, if you want to?’ He looks nonchalant as he plays with one of the bracelets on his wrist. ‘Pretend to be involved if you think it’ll be an easier story to tell.’ 

Yoongi flops onto his bed, and Hoseok perches on the end of it. 

‘I don’t think I’d be doing you any favours by going along with that,’ Yoongi says, loading his words enough to make Hoseok blush. ‘Besides, hopefully you don’t need an excuse to want to hang out with me,’ he continues, a mischievous glint in his eye but maybe a hint of genuine anxiety there too.  

Hoseok gasps. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen your real smile before. It’s gummy.’ 

Yoongi covers his mouth with his hand. ‘I still have the power to order you out of here.’ 

Hoseok rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, let’s see how far you get then, Yoongles.’

‘That’s-’

‘What I’ve decided your close friends call you,’ Hoseok says, rubbing his hands together. ‘And since we’re best friends… I can’t wait to tell Jimin.’ 

Yoongi launches himself across the bed, tackling Hoseok, and it brings back a memory of being young and running around the kitchens, their pockets stuffed with tangerines, shrieking as the wait staff chased them around.  

‘Am I interrupting something?’ Taehyung stands in the doorway, the beret he’s wearing accentuating the sharp pull of his brows. 

‘No actually, I was just leaving,’ Hoseok says quickly, scrambling off the bed, and straightening his clothes. He mouths you gonna be okay? to Yoongi who glances over at Taehyung and the storm cloud over his head. While he’s had a lot of firsts tonight, this is the most shocking: he wishes he could trade places with Hoseok. 

‘Mhm,’ Yoongi mumbles. 

‘Text me if you need anything, yeah?’ As his guard, Hoseok probably feels uncomfortable leaving him like this. What with the likelihood of Yoongi about to be beaten up exceedingly high. 

‘Sure,’ Yoongi says. Not like there are any other numbers in his phone. 

Yoongi tucks his feet up, resting against the headboard, and starts scrolling on his phone before Taehyung can say anything else. But it seems like Taehyung’s not about to let him get off that easily. 

‘I’m still waiting on that apology, you know,’ he says, frowning his way through tidying up the photos Yoongi knocked on the floor. 

‘If it hadn’t been so messy in here then-’

‘Unbelievable.’ Taehyung scoffs, not deigning to look at Yoongi. 

‘What? I expect basic hygiene from the people I’m forced to live with.’

That gets Taehyung’s attention. 

‘And besides, you should be thanking me,’ Yoongi continues. ‘For cleaning the swamp you call a bathroom.’ 

‘Really?’ Taehyung says, scrutinising him. Yoongi watches as Taehyung gets up and goes to inspect the bathroom. ‘Show me your hands.’ 

‘What?’ 

‘Hands.’ Taehyung repeats, stalking over to Yoongi’s bed. ‘Show ‘em.’ 

After losing a contest of nerve, Yoongi raises his hand from his lap and turns it, opening and closing his palm so Taehyung can get a good look. Taehyung encircles his wrist, pulling Yoongi’s hand - and Yoongi along with it - closer. 

‘The fu-’

‘You expect me to believe you’ve scrubbed anything with these hands?’ Taehyung draws a fingertip down the length of Yoongi’s middle finger to the tendons of his wrist. The lightning trail of sensation it leaves in his wake crackles under Yoongi’s skin even as Taehyung turns his hand and touches over his knuckles. 

‘Shit, your skin is soft,’ Taehyung mutters under his breath, a little awed, then narrows his eyes, meeting Yoongi’s own. Yoongi tries to pull his hand back, but Taehyung’s grip doesn’t loosen. ‘Your fingertips aren’t wrinkled, there aren’t any rubber gloves in the bathroom, and your nails are perfect. Hoseok cleaned that bathroom, didn’t he?’

Before Yoongi can even open his mouth, Taehyung adds, ‘don’t try denying it.’ 

Yoongi doesn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to feel vindicated. He snatches his hand back. 

‘Yes, I will make sure to thank Hoseok for cleaning our bathroom. So, when are we gonna get round to the apology part, hm?’ 

Oh no no no. Taehyung does not get to one-up him like that. Yoongi might’ve been in the wrong, but like hell is he about to give this smug man the satisfaction. He raises an eyebrow. 

‘In your sweet dreams, roomie. ’

The staring contest continues, both too stubborn to stop. Eventually, Taehyung breaks the tension by tuning his back to Yoongi, shrugging off his jacket and taking his pyjamas out from under his pillow. 

‘Jerk,’ Taehyung says, not quiet enough to be missed. 

‘I heard that!’ Yoongi shouts as Taehyung pulls the door to the bathroom closed behind him with a slam. 

‘I meant you to!’ Taehyung shouts back through the walls, leaving Yoongi to grumble while the steam from Taehyung’s shower seeps under the door. No wonder the corners of the ceiling are moulding. 

Not about to let it go, when Taehyung emerges half an hour later, hair wet and only three buttons of his night shirt done up, Yoongi almost loses his nerve, but manages to stutter out. 

‘If you wanted a roommate you actually liked, why didn’t you and Jimin just move in together?’

Taehyung towel dries his hair, and Yoongi’s transfixed by the way his bracelets slip down his forearm, the beads clinking. ‘Because as much as I love Jimin, everyone wants a single room. For the privacy.’ He raises his eyebrows with a smirk. 

Yoongi scoffs. ‘I hardly imagine with the state of this room that you’ve lured anyone in here.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Taehyung challenges. ‘Where’d you think those mattress stains came from?’ 

Yoongi gags. ‘For the record, that is not something you should be proud of.’ 

‘Right, cause you don’t want me to trade just so you can be with your boyfriend?’

‘Hoseok’s not my boyfriend,’ Yoongi says, disgusted, and Taehyung’s expression sours. Yoongi realises his mistake. It’s an unsettling thought not because Hoseok’s a man, but because he’s staff. 

‘Ugh, god, if you have something against being gay we’re gonna have far bigger problems than who empties the bins.’ 

‘I-I don’t!’ Yoongi stutters, and for some reason he’s unable to keep the blush from his cheeks as he stares at Taehyung’s open shirt, the sight of Taehyung’s golden collarbones sparking something in his gut. ‘Have anything against- I’m actually-’

Taehyung laughs. ‘Relax,’ Taehyung says, that cheeky grin Yoongi already hates back in place. ‘Pink’s your colour.’ 

Yoongi narrows his eyes. ’Fuck you.’ 

‘Don’t you wish.’

Yoongi’s ears are about to burst into flames. 

‘You’re cute,’ Taehyung says, giving him another once over. ‘Which is a shame because I make a point of not dating assholes.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Yoongi smirks, not missing the opportunity. ‘I can top.’

Taehyung splutters in surprise and his baritone giggles have Yoongi’s traitorous stomach swooping again. Taehyung peels back his covers and clucks his tongue. ‘You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that if you want a piece of this,’ Taehyung says, patting his butt before climbing into bed. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck in the back of his head. 

Taehyung turns so his back is facing Yoongi and reaches behind him to turn off his bedside light.

‘Snore and you’re giving me permission to dump a bucket of water on you in your sleep,’ he calls over his shoulder. 

Yoongi sticks out his tongue at Taehyung’s broad back across the room and curls into his phone, sending a text to Hoseok. 

YG: I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.