Work Text:
Yoongi is tired.
He’s working two jobs, trying to keep up with his rent and his bills and his student loans. He’s also helping Namjoon produce a new mixtape, and as much as he loves his best friend, working with him day in and day out is sort of making him regret giving Namjoon the key code to his studio.
He hasn’t slept in what feels like years. By the time he gets home from his night shift at the nursing home (yes, he wanted to be a nurse when we went to college. Yes, he regrets it.), he immediately has to turn around and go to his morning shift at H Mart, where he stocks shelves under the harsh fluorescent lighting and hates his life. In all the in-between moments, he‘s helping Namjoon. A quiet walk to the bus station turns into listening to demos through shitty earbuds, trying to figure out the best way to clean them up. Sitting down, alone, with his frozen dinner turns into nightly FaceTime calls with Namjoon, where he talks a million miles an hour and Yoongi’s tired brain tries to keep up.
Yoongi is tired, which is exactly his excuse for why he’s here today.
Here, being a nondescript building tucked between a weed dispensary and a therapist's office. The door has a sign on it that reads: if you know we’re here, you’re in the right spot! Come on in!
Belatedly, Yoongi wonders if he should have told someone – someone more trustworthy than Taehyung, who gave him the address – that he was coming here. Something about the overwhelming low-key-ness of the place gives Yoongi the heebie jeebies. But telling someone he was coming here would have raised questions that Yongi doesn’t want to answer.
A bell above the door tinkles as Yoongi pushes it open, and the boy behind the front counter springs to life.
“Hello! Welcome to Puddles of Cuddles!” The boy rolls his eyes, like he’s annoyed at the fact he has to say this spiel every time someone walks through the door. “Anyone specific you’re here to see today?”
“No, not really,” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck. His cheeks are probably bright red. They feel bright red. “The um, the confirmation email said that I wouldn’t have to pick.”
The boy behind the counter nods and flips through the appointment book in front of him. “Hoseok hyung is free right now, so I’ll put you with him! His room is down the hall, second door on the left. He’ll be in there in just a few minutes!”
“Thank you,” Yoongi says quietly. He scuttles down the hallway, chin tucked into the collar of his hoodie. The door to the room is slightly ajar, and Yoongi pushes it the rest of the way open to reveal a large bed with fluffy blankets on top, and a couch with too many throw pillows in the corner. The room itself is a calming blue color, and the floor is covered in mis-matched rugs.
Yoongi crawls onto the bed and kicks off his shoes. He realizes that his socks don’t match – one of them is black, the other, unfortunately, is Kumamon. As Yoongi debates whether or not it would be weird to take off his socks, the door pushes open gently.
“Hello,” says the person – Hoseok, Yoongi assumes – in the doorway. Yoongi involuntarily gives him a once over, taking in his soft-looking t-shirt, baggy sweatpants, and bare feet. So it wouldn’t be weird if Yoongi took off his socks. Noted. “Are you Yoongi-ssi?”
“Just Yoongi is fine,” Yoongi says. “But uh, yeah. That’s me.”
“I’m Hoseok, nice to meet you!” Hoseok bounds over to the bed in similar fashion to that of a happy puppy, and when he sits down, Yoongi tilts slightly and has to catch himself before he falls over. Hoseok also reaches out to catch him, hands curling around Yoongi’s arm. He makes a small, confused sound. “You can take off your hoodie, if you want. It can sometimes get a little hot. If you get cold, we have super cozy blankets you can use!”
If he’s honest with himself, Yoongi didn’t really know what to wear. He almost wore jeans, and halfway to the bus stop he realized how stupid that was. He’s still a little hesitant about this whole thing – wonders if he’s going to have to shut down a ‘happy ending’ situation; knowing Taehyung, he would purposely send him somewhere the main objective is to have sex.
(“It decreases stress, hyung! And is proven to help you sleep better!”)
Yoongi shakes his head. “I’ll keep it on for now. Uh, I don’t really um… What's the procedure here?”
He is so embarrassed.Yoongi almost never stumbles over his words. Even if he’s unsure about something, he’s very much a fake it ‘til you make it kinda guy. But here is, with a stranger smiling widely at him, looking at Yoongi so softly , and it’s making his brain turn to goo.
“Well, it’s different for everyone.” Great. Unhelpful. “Some people like to get right into it and don’t really say much, others treat us sort of like therapists; they talk for a little while, end up crying, and ultimately seek comfort. Other people are sort of in between; get straight into it, but once we’re settled, they talk about their job, home, anything, really. The ball is in your court, Yoongi. We’re just here to make you feel better.”
Hoseok smiles at him, and Yoongi gets the feeling that Hoseok is actually, genuinely, nice. This isn’t some customer service persona, the smile isn’t forced, and his tone is gentle and understanding.
Something in Yoongi’s heart twinges, and he violently stomps on the feeling.
“Um, well, I, uh–“ this is mortifying, even with Hoseok being so kind to him. “I am the little spoon.”
“That’s perfect, because I’m a big spoon!” Hoseok says cheerily. He reaches his arms out, and before Yoongi has time to react, pulls him down onto the bed and manhandles him onto his side. Briefly, Yoongi thinks about how nice it is to be handled. He beats down that feeling with a bat.
Hoseok curls up behind him and winds his arm around Yoongi’s waist. He sticks it through Yoongi’s hoodie pocket and giggles to himself while he pulls Yoongi in close. Yoongi can feel soft puffs of air on his neck as Hoseok breathes. Normally, he would find it annoying, tell him to back the fuck up, but something about it is comforting.
“You good?” Hoseok asks softly. Yoongi nods, and the back of his head hits Hoseok in the nose. Yoongi tries to turn around to apologize when he hears Hoseok’s startled sound, but then Hoseok is laughing and pushing Yoongi back onto the bed and saying, “it’s fine, I’m okay, relax, Yoongi.”
Yoongi settles against the bed, head dipping into the overly-plush pillow. Hoseok situates himself behind him, nuzzling even closer, and Yoongi has to remind himself to breathe. It’s been so long since he’s been held – been touched at all, really, aside from the random high-fives from Namjoon. Sometimes, if it’s late enough, Taehyung will crawl into bed with him after a long night of drinking. It’s not the same as this, though, because Taehyung is a blanket hog and also kicks like a rabbit in his sleep.
The room is quiet. Hoseok is still breathing softly on the back of his neck, and at the end of the bed, his feet rub gently against the mattress. Every once in a while his foot brushes against Yoongi’s, and Yoongi is endeared. Hoseok is like a cat, almost, with the way he cuddles Yoongi close and moves his feet along the bed like a kitten making biscuits.
Yoongi doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until Hoseok is gently shaking him awake.
“Sorry to wake you, Yoongi, but our time is up,” Hoseok whispers as Yoongi slowly regains consciousness. The room is dimmer, now, like maybe Hoseok got up in the middle of his nap and turned down the lights. Yoongi also realizes, belatedly, that he’s facing Hoseok, and there is a small damp spot on the collar of Hoseok’s shirt.
“Did you have a good nap?” Hoseok asks. He runs his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, and Yoongi leans into the touch before he realizes that maybe that’s a little weird. “You passed out pretty fast. Looked like you needed a good sleep.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi croaks. His tongue and throat are dry, like he slept with his mouth open. Yoongi coughs a little bit and reaches up to wipe his mouth. When he pulls his hand away, his fist glistens a little bit and – oh no. Yoongi glances at the wet spot on Hoseok’s shirt; glances at the wet spot on his own hand. Gently reaches back up and pats the wet spot on his chin.
He fucking drooled.
Yoongi rockets off the bed, and Hoseok’s hand slips out of his hair and hits the mattress with a loud thump.
“I’m so sorry,” Yoongi says. He hurries to get his shoes on, doesn’t bother with even lacing them. He readjusts his hoodie, which, during his nap, had pulled up around his torso to reveal his pale stomach. He glances up at Hoseok, who looks shocked and also like he doesn’t know what to do.
“Um, I’ll just– I’m going to get going.” Yoongi stumbles over one of the many decorative rugs on his way towards the door. “Have a good day, Hoseok.”
As Yoongi reaches for the door handle, a hand loops around his wrist. Yoongi looks over his shoulder to find Hoseok looking back at him so, so, softly, and that feeling is back. Yoongi mentally runs it over with his scooter.
“Here, take this.” Hoseok slides a card into Yoongi’s hand. “It has my number on it, just in case you want to come back.”
Yoongi tries to hand it back to him. “No, I won’t be needing this. I won’t come back.”
Hoseok merely curls Yoongi’s fingers around the card and holds the door open for him.
– ⋆ –
Yoongi goes back.
But only because he’s had a very long week and he hasn’t slept well.
Yoongi made another online appointment, because when he called the number on the card Hoseok gave him, Hoseok picked up. Yoongi could hear commotion in the background of the call, loud music that made Yoongi wonder if Hoseok was at a club at one pm on a Wednesday.
Yoongi didn’t realize Hoseok had given him his personal number until his Instagram account showed up on Yoongi’s accounts from your contacts list.
“Welcome back!” The boy behind the counter – Jungkook, Yoongi remembers from a late night Internet-stalking session – says happily.
“Hi.” Yoongi walks up to the counter feeling a little less mortified than he had the first time. “I actually have a set appointment this time.”
“With Hoseok hyung again?” Jungkook asks. Yoongi nods, and Jungkook smiles knowingly. “Yeah, he’s a favorite around here.”
Something ugly twists in Yoongi’s stomach. He punches the feeling in the face. “Yeah, he’s nice.”
Jungkook takes a pink highlighter and highlights his name in the appointment book. Then, he smiles up at Yoongi and asks, “you remember where the room is?”
Of course he does. He’s been daydreaming about the light blue walls and the throw rugs for two weeks now.
Yoongi finds the room easily, of course, and when he pushes the door open, Hoseok is already waiting for him. He’s lounged back against the bed, wearing an oversized white shirt. Yoongi can hardly see his shorts under all the excess fabric, and he has to do a double take because at first he isn’t sure Hoseok is wearing pants at all.
“Yoongi, hello!” Hoseok leans up and holds his arms out, as if expecting Yoongi to run and jump into them. Yoongi kicks off his shoes and closes the door softly behind him.
As much as he does want to run and jump into Hoseok’s arms, he forces himself to walk across the room at a normal pace. Yoongi does, however, allow himself to crumple into Hoseok’s lap as soon as he’s close enough for Hoseok to catch him.
Hoseok immediately pulls him onto the bed and rests Yoongi between his legs. Yoongi rests his head on Hoseok’s stomach and his hands on Hoseok’s thighs, silently marveling at how strong they feel under his fingertips.
“Long week?” Hoseok asks softly, running his hands through Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi hums and leans into the touch. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s boring,” Yoongi says immediately. He hates talking about work, hates barraging people with his complaints about old people – both at the nursing home, and at H Mart.
“Nothing is boring. Only people who want to be bored are bored,” Hoseok says. He scratches his nails against Yoongi’s scalp, and Yoongi has to forcibly swallow the sound that was about to come out of him.
“Right now I’m kind of just… I think I spread myself too thin,” Yoongi says. Hoseok makes a soft sound that lets Yoongi know he’s listening. “I’m working two jobs right now to keep up with the normal living expenses. During typical hours, I work at a nursing home, which was– a mistake. I got my nursing degree because my mom actually wanted me to be a doctor, but then I realized how fucking expensive medical school is so I settled on being a nurse. And now I wipe old people ass and serve soggy peaches to people who just throw them right back at me.”
“That sounds like a tiring job, for sure,” Hoseok says sympathetically. He runs his fingers over Yoongi’s ears, gently pressing the shells between his fingers. It feels a little weird, but Yoongi is soothed nonetheless.
“In the mornings I work at an H Mart a few blocks from my apartment. Since I work all day at the nursing home, I just go in super early to stick the shelves at the market.” Yoongi yawns widely and fervently rubs at his eyes, trying to keep himself awake. “And then after work I usually have to take the train to my studio across town. My best friend is working on a mixtape, and I agreed to help him produce it. I’m usually at the studio until around one or two am.”
“And you work at H Mart everyday?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi nods, and Hoseok gasps quietly. “Yoongi, that’s way too much! How many hours of sleep do you get a night? Like, four?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Yoongi rests his head against Hoseok’s chest, and Hoseok moves his hands to gently run up and down Yoongi’s arms. “I don’t sleep very well when I’m alone – I’m always too cold. I used to have a cat, her name was Toro. But I’m almost never home and I felt really bad leaving her alone all the time so I gave her to my friend, Taehyung. He takes good care of her – even has her harness trained, so she gets to go on walks now.”
Yoongi wonders if Hoseok knows Taehyung. Taehyung is the person who told him about this place, gave him the web address and told him that it would be the best choice of his life. He knows that Taehyung comes here pretty regularly, and he knows that he has a giant crush on someone who works here named Jimin. Yoongi, after his night of sleuthing, knows that Hoseok knows Jimin, and that they frequently take selfies together that Hoseok posts on his Instagram.
In the back of his mind he wonders if Hoseok and Jimin are dating. Wonders if both he and Taehyung are hopeless.
Hoseok gently turns Yoongi around, and Yoongi’s back bends awkwardly as Hoseok forces him to look at him.
“Yoongi, I am so sorry to hear that. That is so sad.” Hoseok bites his lip, and he genuinely looks like he might cry. He squeezes Yoongi’s shoulders comfortingly. “You’re a good cat dad, though, to give Toro to your friend. It shows that you really love her.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says softly. He’s felt bad about it for months, has harbored a sort of cat-abandonment guilt that won’t go away, even when Taehyung sends pictures of Toro happily curled up in the window of his apartment. Yoongi glances down, making eye contact with Hoseok’s belly button, revealed by the way Hoseok’s shirt pulled up when he flipped Yoongi around.
“Do you have pictures?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi does, technically, but they’re all kind of embarrassing because they’re the kind of pictures you take with your pets when you don’t think anyone will ever see them. Yoongi is pretty sure he has some sort of double chin in all of them, but Hoseok still looks like he’s on the verge of tears, so Yoongi reaches into his sweatpants pocket to get his phone.
Hoseok moves them around again, pulling Yoongi onto his back beside him and winding an arm around his shoulders. Yoongi rests his head on Hoseok’s chest and throws a leg over his waist, cuddling in close.
Hoseok holds Yoongi’s phone while Yoongi scrolls, talking animatedly about each picture, giving it’s background. He has an entire album dedicated to photos of just him and Toro, most of which look exactly how Yoongi expected them to – blurry, with Toro too close to the camera and Yoongi in the background, double chin on display. Every once in a while a picture comes up that Taehyung or Namjoon took. One of them is a picture of Yoongi in the studio, fast asleep in his desk chair with Toro in his lap. She is also asleep, curled up in a little ball.
“Oh, Yoongi, that’s adorable,” Hoseok says. He zooms in on the picture, first blowing up Toro’s little face, then screeching over her tiny little feeties, look at those itty bitty toe beans, and then he moves the picture to be close up on Yoongi’s face. His head is tilted back on the headrest, and both his headphones and his glasses are askew.
It’s almost impossible to tell at the angle the picture was taken, but his mouth was also open. Yoongi knows this because Namjoon woke him up by sticking a finger in his mouth.
Hoseok is about to say something, but then something starts vibrating softly against the bed. Hoseok makes a sad noise and pulls his phone out of the waistband of his shorts.
“Time up?” Yoongi asks. He still has his head on Hoseok’s chest, and Hoseok is still holding his phone. It strikes him, suddenly, at how very coupley this feels. Yoongi’s brain knows it’s Hoseok’s job to cuddle his clients, to make them feel warm and welcome and safe, but Yoongi’s heart is making him feel like something about this is different . Like, maybe Hoseok likes him.
Yoongi shoves that feeling onto a metaphorical train track and let’s it get run over.
“Unfortunately,” Hoseok says. He hands Yoongi his phone and helps him sit up in the bed. Hoseok giggles, slightly, and when Yoongi makes a confused noise, he holds up his own phone and takes a picture. When he shows it to Yoongi, he blushes. Yoongi’s hair is sticking up in every direction, and he’s frowning like a petulant child.
“Delete that,” he says. Hoseok shakes his head, and when Yoongi reaches for his phone, Hoseok hurriedly pulls it out of his reach. “Hoseok.”
“Yoongi,” Hoseok retorts. He’s smiling a big, heart shaped smile at Yoongi and part of Yoongi melts. Hoseok feels like the embodiment of the sun, warm and safe and inviting.
Yoongi rolls his eyes and crawls off the bed. “Whatever. You’re weird.”
“You’re cute,” Hoseok responds. Once again, Yoongi trips over one of the rugs.
When he’s back upright, he turns to Hoseok, cheeks bright red, and says, “you need to do something about that rug. It’s a hazard.”
“Will do, Yoongi,” Hoseok says, smiling cheekily. Yoongi rolls his eyes and shoves his feet back into his shoes. He has enough self control to actually tie them before running out of the room.
– ⋆ –
The third time Yoongi goes back, he doesn’t have an appointment. He’s on a walk, trying to clear his head after a fight with Namjoon about the mixtape. Yoongi thinks his idea is better, but Namjoon had made it very clear that it’s his mixtape, not Yoongi’s, and that Yoongi needed to stay out of it. Yoongi had said something along the lines of ‘this mixtape wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me,’ and Namjoon said something like ‘yeah, just because you’re the only one with studio space.’ And Yoongi had left.
It starts drizzling on his walk, and as Yoongi rounds the corner to the street where Puddles of Cuddles is, the rain starts coming down in buckets.
Yoongi wants to tell himself this is the natural path to his apartment building, that he’s merely walking past the building because he has to, but deep down, Yoongi knows that he came here on purpose. He’s upset and he’s cold and he really needs to see Hoseok before he bursts into tears on the sidewalk.
When he shoves open the door, the bell slams against the glass with the force of it. Jungkook looks up, shocked, and when he sees Yoongi standing in the doorway, waterlogged, he hurries around the front of the counter.
“Yoongi-ssi! Are you okay? I didn’t see you in the appointment book,” Jungkook says.
Yoongi shakes his bangs out of his eyes, effectively splattering water everywhere. “Can I talk to Hoseok, maybe?”
Jungkook frowns. “It’s Hoseok hyung’s day off today, I’m sorry.”
“Oh. Um. Okay.” Yoongi looks around the lobby, a little lost. “I’ll go, then. Sorry about the water.”
Yoongi slips back into the rain without another word. His phone is vibrating in his pocket, no doubt Namjoon calling him for the tenth time. He reaches into his pocket, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he has Hoseok’s number.
He could call him. Hoseok would probably let him come over, because Hoseok is kind and warm and called Yoongi cute, once. But that feels a little bit like overstepping, a little bit too far out of the realm of a client-professional relationship.
Yoongi walks home in the rain, ignoring the incessant ringing of his phone. When he gets home, he strips completely in the doorway so as to not track water into his house. He changes into the most comfortable clothes he owns, a huge matching tracksuit that Taehyung got him as a joke for his birthday. It’s bright orange and it reminds him a little bit of that guy from Despicable Me, but it’s still the softest thing he owns.
Yoongi curls up in his bed and pulls too many blankets around himself. He’s sweating, a little bit, by the time he looks at his phone. Eleven missed calls from Namjoon, a follow up text that says, ‘I’m sorry hyung. Just let me know you made it home safe?’.
As well as four missed calls from Hoseok Cuddle Guy.
Hoseok, too, followed up with texts, and Yoongi is shocked as he reads them.
From: Hoseok Cuddle Guy
hi yoongi! jk told me u came in looking for me but
i’m at home today :( i tried to call but u never picked up. maybe u don’t like to talk on the phone?
judging by that one time u called me and didn’t say anything
yes i knew it was u
call me back <3 just so i know ur alive
Yoongi, although no one can see him, hides his face in his hands. Of course Hoseok knew it was him who called and stayed silent, stupidly dumbfounded, until Hoseok hung up. Of course Jungkook would let him know that a random client of his showed up at his work, looking like a drowned rat, and asked for him. Of course.
Yoongi’s phone rings again and he sighs. Hoseok again. Before he can talk himself out of it, Yoongi slides his phone across the screen and presses the speaker button.
“Hi,” Yoongi says quietly.
A sigh of relief crackles across the line. “Yoongi! I’m so glad I got a hold of you. Is everything okay?”
Yoongi grabs his phone and turns onto his stomach, pillowing his head in his arms. “Yeah, everything is fine.”
“You showed up at my work today soaking wet from the literally downpour going on right now because everything is fine?” Hoseok asks. His voice is deeper over the phone, and Yoongi tries hard not to focus on it. When he doesn’t say anything for a minute, Hoseok says, “sorry, that was a little mean. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Yoongi sighs. “No, it’s fine. You weren’t being mean. I was just upset, I guess. I wanted to talk to you. You remember how I told you I was helping my friend with his mixtape?” Hoseok hums affirmation. “Well, we got in a little bit of a spat today, I suppose. Most of the time we work super well together, but sometimes we have really different artistic views on concepts. Usually we work through it okay, but Namjoon is really focused on making sure this mixtape sounds like his true, authentic self – that’s how he puts it. So if I have some input that he doesn’t like, it sometimes turns into… a thing. Today it turned into a thing. A big thing.”
“What kind of thing?” Hoseok asks gently. Yoongi can hear something shifting around in the background. He wonders if Hoseok is in bed too, having a lie in on his day off. He wonders if Hoseok ever gets tired of lying in bed, since that’s his job.
“Well, he basically told me to fuck off and stay out of his business, and so I said that his mixtape wouldn’t even be happening if not for me, which I understand now was a shitty thing to say. And then he said basically that he only asked me for help because he wanted access to my studio – I don’t make him pay for studio time, but a lot of places do. So it just kind of stung, I guess. Namjoon is my best friend, and so to think he would use me just for my studio… it’s dumb. It was just a little argument. He already apologized, too. I just need to text him back. Sorry for rambling, it was dumb of me to get so upset.”
“Yoongi, do you always try to downplay when you’re upset?” Hoseok asks. It catches Yoongi off guard, and Hoseok must hear the way he chokes, because he says, “even when people ask you to share, you downplay it. I asked you about your day once and you said it was boring. But I asked, and no one’s life is exciting all the time. I asked because I wanted to know. Do you ever stop to think maybe people want to know how you’re doing? What you’re feeling?”
“Um,” Yoongi says awardkly. His words come out thickly, and he has to swallow back the emotion threatening to spill out. Hoseok has only known him a few weeks, and has only met him twice, but somehow knows how to read Yoongi like a book. Yoongi doesn’t know if that’s because he isn’t as mysterious as he thinks he is, or if it’s because Hoseok is more perceptive than Yoongi made him out to be.
“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to apologize for having emotions, alright? Especially when someone asks you to share. Plus, you didn’t even ramble. I think you were quite concise – you didn’t even say um.”
Yoongi laughs, and he hears Hoseok laugh, too. It sounds tinny over the phone, hollow and not at like what it actually sounds like in person. Yoongi aches, a little bit, to hear Hoseok laugh for real. Everything about Hoseok is so warm. His personality, his laugh, his smile – every time Yoongi sees him, it’s like his Hoseok reserves get filled up with warm, sticky, saccharine happiness, and the longer he goes without seeing him, the more his supply depletes.
It’s pathetic, Yoongi thinks, to feel this way after knowing someone for such a short time.
“Thank you, Hoseok,” Yoongi says quietly. Hoseok hums, and the line falls quiet. Yoongi can hear Hoseok shifting around, getting comfortable doing whatever it is he’s doing on his day off. He hears Hoseok take a breath, like maybe he’s about to say something, and Yoongi rushes out, “you can call me hyung.”
Silence again. Eventually, hesitantly, Hoseok asks, “really?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. His phone starts vibrating – another call from Namjoon. “I’ll let you go now, Hoseok-ah. Thank you for talking to me.”
“You can call me any time, Yoongi hyung. I mean it.”
Hoseok hangs up, and Yoongi’s heart soars.
– ⋆ –
To: hoseok
can i come over
From: hoseok
of course, let me send u the address
Yoongi is looking between his phone and the apartment building in front of him, trying to make sure this is where he needs to be. The building is much more lavish than his own, and part of Yoongi doesn’t believe Hoseok lives here. He knows how much a cuddling session costs, and for Hoseok to afford this, Yoongi thinks he would have to have, like, six hundred appointments a day.
However, when he goes to the call box, he finds Hoseok’s name scrawled next to the buzzer for apartment nine. He presses the button, listening to it buzz for a long moment, until finally he hears a soft, “come on up, Yoongi hyung.”
Yoongi takes the elevator, which is carpeted and lined with full length mirrors. Yoongi attempts to fix his hair, but he’s been wearing a beanie all day and the damage it did to his hair is somewhat unfixable. He’s wearing a t-shirt and what he likes to call his Cozy Pants – pants just nondescript enough to wear out of the house, but also comfortable enough that he often wears them as pajamas. He also brought fried chicken, because he feels like he invited himself over, even though Hoseok could have said no.
Hoseok answers the door before Yoongi can even knock, like he was waiting at the peephole, looking for him.
“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok says. He’s leaning against the doorframe, and Yoongi has to force himself to keep his gaze trained on Hoseok’s face. He’s wearing some sort of self-crafted tank top, and the arm holes are so big that when Hoseok leans, they fall open to reveal his chest. He also has on the shortest shorts Yoongi has ever seen.
“Hi, Hoseok-ah.” Yoongi holds up his bag of chicken. “I brought food.”
Hoseok grabs the bag, eyes bright, and leads Yoongi inside. He tries not to gawk at the sheer size of the apartment. It’s so big that it has an actual separated kitchen, big enough that there is a small table tucked into the corner with two chairs and actual, real, place settings. The living room has a sectional in it, which Yoongi finds odd for one person, as well as bookcases and a big tv.
Despite the grandeur of the apartment, Hoseok apologizes as they walk towards the living room. “Sorry about the mess. Jin hyung and I are really bad about picking things up.” As if to prove his point, Hoseok kicks a pair of jeans into the hallway.
“Jin hyung?” Yoongi asks, hoping he sounds casual. Not that he would care if Hoseok were living with his lover. Definitely not. Not at all.
Hoseok sets the chicken down on the coffee table and falls into the couch, pulling Yoongi with him. Yoongi ends up practically in Hoseok’s lap, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care. “My roommate.” Yoongi hopes his sigh of relief isn’t too obvious. “What, you thought I could afford this place on my own?”
Yoongi shrugs. He reaches for the chicken, handing Hoseok a piece and grabbing one for himself. He realizes, belatedly, that they’re eating very greasy chicken on what is probably a very expensive couch without plates or napkins. Hoseok bites into his without thinking twice, so Yoongi follows suit, holding his free hand under his mouth to catch any crumbs.
“I don’t know. You could be making millions at Puddles of Cuddles, I have no idea. You could also be a chaebol. Are you a chaebol, Hoseok-ah?”
Hoseok laughs and shakes his head. “Unfortunately not. Jin hyung is actually an architect. He practically designed this whole building himself. In one of the contracts he signed when he took the job at the company he works for, he wrote in a clause that said he could move into whatever project he wanted. Before this place, we lived in a prototype build for one of the buildings in Tokyo Disneyland.”
Yoongi glances over his shoulder at Hoseok, who has chicken grease collecting at the corners of his mouth. Yoongi kind of wants to kiss it away. Instead, he turns back around. “That is literally so wild. So do you guys get to live here for free?”
“No, but we do get it at a pretty reduced rate. Jin hyung pays for most of our rent, anyways. I only work at Puddles of Cuddles part time – I’m also a children’s dance teacher.”
“So that’s why it sounded like you were in a club that one time I called you,” Yoongi says. Hoseok laughs again, reaching around his for another piece of chicken. He has to stretch to reach the box, and he grips tightly to Yoongi’s waist to steady himself. Yoongi’s heart does a somersault. “Wait, I feel so dumb now for complaing about having two jobs.”
The hand around Yoongi’s waist disappears, and Hoseok hits him in the back of the head. “What did I tell you about downplaying your emotions? Yoongi hyung, my jobs are so easy – sure the kids are tiring, but you know what I do when I’m tired? Go to my other job where I get to lay down all day. Stop apologizing for being stressed out.”
“Sorry.” Hoseok hits him again, but this time he’s giggling.
– ⋆ –
It’s not until they’re cuddled up in Hoseok’s bed, Hoseok’s hands rubbing Yoongi’s back, that Hoseok asks Yoongi why he wanted to come over. He prefaces it with not that I don’t want you here, but– and that makes Yoongi laugh.
“I just…” missed you. Yoongi had been so slammed with work and the mixtape and life, that he hasn’t seen Hoseok in a few weeks. They text, sometimes. Yoongi sends Hoseok pictures of Toro whenever he gets them from Taehyung, and Hoseok sends him selfies cuddled up in the bed at his work, with stupid emoticons of people snoring or drooling. “Needed a break. You’re relaxing, you know that?”
“I’ve been told once or twice,” Hoseok says. He scratches a spot on Yoongi’s lower back that makes him shiver. Yoongi has been trying really hard all night to not stare at Hoseok, but he’s in that tank top, and the tiny shorts, and now that Yoongi knows he’s a dancer, he’s had a myriad of different, not so PG, thoughts in the few hours he’s been here. Hoseok’s hands travel up to Yoongi’s shoulders, and when he rubs into the skin there, he makes an upset noise. “Yoongi hyung, your back is like…”
“I know, it’s pretty bad.” Yoongi has gone to too many chiropractors and massage therapists over the years, wasted so much money on treatments that never stuck. “I just have bad posture. It’s a bad habit I can’t shake.”
Hoseok makes a thoughtful sound, and before Yoongi knows what’s happening, Hoseok flips him onto his stomach and slides onto his back. The weight of Hoseok on his lower back shoves Yoongi into the bed, and his voice is muffled when he asks,
“Uh, Hoseok? What the fuck?”
“Shh,” Hoseok says softly, hiking Yoongi’s shirt up. “I’m going to massage your shoulders. I’m not trained, but I do it for some of my clients sometimes. They seem to like it by the end.”
Something twists in Yoongi’s stomach, and he’s suddenly reminded of his thoughts he had the first time he made an appointment – was this a happy ending situation? Does Hoseok sleep with all his clients? Is this the end goal?
“Wait, wait, Hoseok.” Yoongi tries to roll over, but Hoseok is heavy on his back. “Hoseok, stop.”
Hoseok yanks his fingers away from Yoongi’s back like he’s been burned. He slides off Yoongi’s back and Yoongi turns on his side. Hoseok is looking at him, concerned, and Yoongi takes a deep breath. He doesn’t really want to reveal that he has some sort of feelings for Hoseok out of being his client, but he definitely doesn’t want Hoseok to sleep with him just because it’s what he does with his other clients.
“I don’t– that’s not why I’m here,” Yoongi says. He’s struck with the sudden thought that maybe Hoseok thinks that’s why he’s here, in his house, in his bed. Like he invited himself over just for… just for that.
“What do you mean?” Hoseok asks, looking genuinely confused.
Yoongi gestures at Hoseok, and then at himself, and then at the awkward gap between them. “I didn’t come here for… to get– I didn’t come here for a massage.”
Hoseok frowns, but nods his head. “… okay? So I won’t rub your shoulders. That’s okay. We can do something else.”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want to do… that. Okay? I like you Hoseok-ah, I don’t want you to just– to massage me like you do other clients. I don’t want that, I just want… I don’t know, okay? Just um– I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either, Yoongi hyung. Nothing you said makes any sense,” Hoseok says. He’s playing idly with the hem of his tank top, and Yoongi points at him accusingly.
“What do you mean you don’t know! Look at you! In your tank top and tiny shorts and then you climbed on my back and tried to give me a massage and–“
“Yoongi hyung, do you think I’m trying to seduce you?” Hoseok asks disbelievingly.
“Is that not what you were doing? Giving me a massage? And then saying you do it with all your clients? And then you said they liked it at the end.” Yoongi sits up as he talks, arms flailing wildly. His face is bright red, because Hoseok is looking at him like Yoongi is a silly little puppy trying to learn how to go up the steps. “Why are you looking at me like that?!”
“Yoongi hyung,” Hoseok says softly. He reaches out and takes hold of Yoongi’s hands. “I was not trying to give you a happy ending massage. I have never given any of my clients happy ending massages. I’m asexual, actually.”
“Oh my god.” Yoongi is blushing so hard it physically hurts. He covers his face with his hands and curls in on himself. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Hoseok, I’m so sorry. I’ve totally been sexualizing you this whole time. I’m so sorry about talking about your tank top and your shorts – oh my god.”
He faintly hears Hoseok giggling over the sound of his own groveling, and feels Hoseok pulling his hands away from his face. Hoseok dips down, forcing himself into Yoongi’s line of sight, and Yoongi looks up at him apologetically.
“Hyung, stop apologizing. Well, thank you for apologizing, for even thinking to apologize, but it’s okay. You can think I’m hot, just don’t try to touch my dick, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah of course,” Yoongi says hurriedly. Hoseok squeezes his hands, and Yoongi squeezes them back. “I’m still sorry, though.”
Hoseok reaches up and flicks him on the forehead. Yoongi thinks he probably deserved it, so he doesn’t say anything. “Now, can I please try to get the knots out of your shoulders? I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re all crumpled.”
Yoongi laughs and lets Hoseok turn him back over. Hoseok slides onto his back and Yoongi takes a deep breath.
“I also missed you,” Yoongi says. Hoseok makes a soft, confused noise. He digs his fingers into Yoongi’s shoulder, and Yoongi twitches away from the touch. “When you asked me why I wanted to come over. I missed you. And I’ve had a weird week and I wanted to see you. And I haven’t really slept well and you’re so cozy. You’re like a human furnace and I like to curl up next to you and that nap that first day was the best nap of my life and–“
“Yoongi hyung, would you like to stay here tonight?” Hoseok asks. Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut, and Hoseok adds, “I didn’t want to say anything, but you kind of looked like actual hell when you showed up. You have dark circles under your eyes and when I was talking to you earlier you kept spacing out.”
“Sorry.” Hoseok pinches his back.
“No need to apologize, I’m just saying I can tell you’re tired. If you want to, you can stay here tonight. My bed is plenty big enough for the two of us.” Hoseok pushes down on Yoongi’s shoulder, and the joint pops. Yoongi sighs with relief.
“I don’t want to impose–“
“Believe it or not, Yoongi hyung, I want you to stay here tonight. I’m just making sure you want to stay here, too.”
“I want to,” Yoongi breathes. He wants to stay with Hoseok more than he wants anything else in the world right now, but Yoongi thinks saying that outloud might be a bit much.
Hoseok giggles. Yoongi can feel him leaning down, bending over his body; can feel the gentle kiss that Hoseok presses into the hair at the top of his head. “Okay, hyung. Stay.”
– ⋆ –
When Yoongi wakes up, he’s disoriented. The room he’s in is brighter than his own. The bed he’s in is warmer, and smells better, and has softer sheets. When he tries to roll over, he realizes that he’s caged in by two lean, tanned arms, and Yoongi sighs happily.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Hoseok says softly. Yoongi cranes his neck to look at him, and finds Hoseok staring back at him with bright eyes. His hair looks a little bit like a bird's nest, but Yoongi is so, so endeared.
“Why is it so bright in your room?” Yoongi croaks. He has blackout curtains at home, and even at seven am, when the sun is directly shining into his window, there is hardly any light in his room.
“Because it’s half past noon.” Hoseok lays a hand on Yoongi’s chest when he tries to jump out of the bed. “Don’t worry, hyung. H Mart called, I told them you couldn’t come to the phone because you were projectile vomiting all over the bathroom. They said you could have the morning off, but next time try to give twenty four hours notice.”
Yoongi falls back against the bed, breathing a sigh of relief. Thankfully he never works Fridays at the nursing home, because not calling beforehand to say you’ll miss your shift means that someone has to wipe twice as many old people asses. Yoongi has been in that situation more times than he cares to admit, and would never wish it on any of his coworkers.
“You needed the sleep, anyways.” Hoseok runs his fingers down the side of Yoongi’s face, delicately tracing his cheekbone and jawline. Without thinking, Yoongi takes a gentle hold of Hoseok’s wrist and presses a soft kiss to his palm.
Coming back to himself, Yoongi pulls away quickly. “Sorry, I–”
“It’s fine, Yoongi hyung. You’re fine,” Hoseok says gently. He laces his fingers with Yoongi’s and plants a kiss to the back of his hand. “There, now we’re even.”
A warm feeling, sticky sweet, explodes in Yoongi’s chest. He feels it all the way down to his feet, feels it in the ends of his fingers, feels it red hot in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. This is definitely not a normal client-professional feeling. This is definitely not a feeling he expected to have at 12:36 on a random Friday afternoon, tucked in tight to a once-stranger’s bed. This is a feeling he would normally try to beat back with a stick, or run over with his scooter, or shove in front of a moving train.
Yoongi closes his eyes, marvelling at the phantom touch of Hoseok’s lips on his hand. He lets the feelings crash over him like a wave, pulling him down into the honey-sweet depths.
Yoongi is content.