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“I don’t wanna,” Yoongi mumbles, retracting his fingers into his palm and holding his fist close to his chest. His voice is soft and so is his demeanor. It’s not something horrible—he just doesn’t wanna.
“Why?” Hoseok asks. He sits on the edge of Yoongi’s bed and pulls the small desk close, neatly arranging the nail polish bottles he brought on it. The bright colors give such a contrast to Yoongi’s monochrome apartment unit, but Hoseok thinks it’s a great view. “Thought you said they’re pretty.”
Yoongi eyes the colorful little bottles and then to Hoseok’s fingers. He’s not gonna lie; they are pretty. “On yours,” he says, huffing. “My fingers are not like yours. They’ll look— off-putting.”
Hoseok’s brows instantly furrow. “Your fingers are pretty. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of Twitter threads specifically made about it—about your hands in general.”
Yoongi’s fists get a little bit looser. “Not with nail polishes.”
“Because you’ve never put it on,” Hoseok deadpans. He reaches for Yoongi’s unrestricted hand and carefully—but sternly—pries it open. “Oh, look at this,” he pouts, running a thumb on Yoongi’s. There’s a drying wound from Yoongi’s habit of biting it. “You did it again.”
Yoongi looks down, then away. He unconsciously mimics Hoseok’s pout, only in a sadder manner. “Was nervous,” he mumbles.
Now, Hoseok’s pout turns sad too. “Sorry, we couldn’t be there.”
“It’s okay,” Yoongi says. He completely understands. They were swamped with schedules. Even if they wanted to, they simply just can’t. However, he can’t deny that deep down, he wished the situation could be a bit different.
“You know, nail polish is one of the ways suggested to stop this kind of habit,” Hoseok says while kissing the wound and grinning at Yoongi. “Let me paint them?”
Yoongi thinks Hoseok is being unfair. The small act makes his heart jump and how in the world should he refuse Jung Hoseok when the man is staring at him like that? Not fair. He glances at the tiny sparkly bottles.
“Just the thumb?” Hoseok tries again.
Yoongi was about to let Hoseok do absolutely anything to him but the latest offer sounds nice too. “Promise to not mess it up?”
Hoseok laughs and kisses Yoongi’s knuckles. “You know I can’t promise that, but I promise I’ll try my best.”
Yoongi chuckles, because Hoseok’s laughter is infectious like that. He pulls Hoseok’s hand towards him and keeps it near his heart. “Alright,” he says, keeping a smile on his face.
“Alright,” Hoseok parrots, eyes full of heart. “Now, Mr. Customer, what color would you fancy today? They recommend bright colors for nail-biters like you, but I have sparkly dark blue and a galaxy one too if you want darker options.”
A galaxy nail sounds great but Yoongi already has another option in his head. “Could you do a smiley for me?” he asks, staring right to Hoseok’s eyes like his entire world is right there.
“A smiley?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. He’s totally not against it, he just doesn’t expect it.
“Bright yellow smiley. Smack in the middle of my thumb, please,” Yoongi grins, still holding his gaze. A hint of inquiries still lingers on Hoseok’s face so he continues, “Reminds me of you, so it won’t feel as lonely.”
“Oh, hyung,” Hoseok breathes out and crawls into the bed, carefully enveloping the recovering man in his embrace. He kisses the top of Yoongi’s head and stays there, absorbing the warmth and proximity that he just realizes he misses so much. “How about we go home, hyung?”
Yoongi hums, letting the question sink in. In a way, the question sounds weird. He is in his own apartment now—he is technically home. But, Yoongi doesn’t need to ask to know what Hoseok is trying to say. The man is talking about their dorm. Their shared apartment. The one place they all can call home. Mutually. Together.
Yoongi knows what he wants but he decides against it anyway. “Don’t wanna trou—”
“Schedule has been weird anyway, it’s easier to stay there. At least, I will stay there. So, do you wanna come with me, or do you wanna stay here?”
Yoongi pulls away to look at Hoseok’s face. He was about to keep his stance but a lump in his throat proves that he wants it.
“Come on, I miss you,” Hoseok whines, pulling Yoongi back and nuzzling the crook of the older’s neck. “And the boys have been questioning me nonstop about your condition, might as well let them check themselves.”
Yoongi lets the idea swim in his head for a bit. It’s not like it’s been ages since he last stayed in the shared apartment, but he surely misses it. The place is always a comfort zone. There’s always something going on, even when not everyone is around. Even when it’s empty, it doesn’t feel lonely. The place itself is a company, Yoongi guesses.
Going home sounds good. It sounds somewhat selfish to Yoongi, but it also sounds good. Really good.
Yoongi wants it.
“Will you still do my nails?” Yoongi asks. A mere whisper.
Hoseok laughs. Bright, loud, happy. He plants a big smooch on Yoongi’s cheek. “Of course, hyung,” he promises, “Of course.”
(On the news of Yoongi coming home, the rest of the group shows up to the apartment one after another like they were being summoned. They fall into a comfortable routine in mere minutes—something that is not at all out of the ordinary since it happens every single time. Hoseok does a smiley on Yoongi’s thumb while they are all watching some movies and, naturally, Yoongi has to let his other five nails be painted, each by a different member. The result is horrendous, but he likes it. He likes it very much.)