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Yoongi had always been problematic, but he had also always been your friend. Well, sort of.
You met when you were kids in an orphanage. You were put there before you were old enough to retain any memories about your parents, so you didn't know anything about them other than what the orphanage had told you. But it didn't really bother you, your lack of memories.
When you had someone like Yoongi to compare yourself to, you seemed very lucky. He was from a broken, abusive home and had been removed from his family by the state. You knew which past you preferred. You were able to move on from your past. He wasn't. You were able to adapt and become a functioning member of society. He wasn't. You got adopted. He didn’t.
Yoongi got kicked out of every foster home he was put into until he finally ran away when he was 16. He turned to you, and you housed him in your attic for around two years. He was hardly home, and you didn't know where he went when he wasn't, but you did know that, wherever he was, he got into a lot of trouble. He got arrested 3 times for petty theft, and he got into fights so often that you considered switching your major to pre-med since you had so much experience patching him up.
You didn't know why he was such a jackass about everything. If he just let everyone else see the side of him he let you see, you were sure people would learn to love and accept him, but he just shut everyone out. He shut you out half the time, too.
When you turned 18, your adoptive parents helped you rent an apartment, and you let him crash there whenever he wanted. You wished he would just move in with you, but he loved to go off and disappear for days at a time. You tried to get him to just take the entrance exam for your school, but he always refused. He was so smart, would read over all of the same textbooks you would, and was better at some of your homework than you were, but he didn't care. He always just did whatever he wanted—and tonight was no exception.
You were sitting at your desk, trying to decide whether physics was impossible, or you were just dumb. It was probably a mix of both, heavily leaning towards the latter. You were about to call it quits and take a shower when your phone buzzed.
Hana
library. now
You narrowed your eyes. First of all, what was Hana doing at the library? She hated it there. Something about feeling "suffocated surrounded by all those gifted kid burnouts". Second of all, and probably more importantly: why were you needed there?
[Name]
? why tho??
A reply never came, but you had this nagging feeling in the back of your head, so you decided to go over anyway. You slipped on some shoes and grabbed your keys before heading out. While you walked over to the library a few blocks away, you tried to call Yoongi to see if he would be home later or not. You figured you'd get some food on your way back, and wanted to know if you should get him something as well, but he didn't answer.
You sighed as you hung up the phone and pocketed it. As soon as you did so, you could have sworn you heard his voice. Upon further inspection, you realized it was definitely his voice—yelling and cussing, as usual. You were near enough to the library that you figured this was what you had been called out here for. People seemed to think you were his babysitter. At least it gave you some way to keep tabs on him.
Your eyes darted around for the source of the yelling, and finally settled on him in an alley with three other guys. Yoongi had your chemistry lab partner pinned against the wall, and his fist was reared back. The two other guys were on the ground, one holding his stomach and the other clutching what you assumed was a bloody nose.
"Yoongi! What the hell are you doing?" you yelled as you ran over, grabbing his arm so he wouldn't punch anyone else. His knuckles and forehead were bleeding, his lip was split, and a bruise was blossoming on his cheekbone.
"Get out of here," Yoongi hissed, shoving you off. "You need to stay away from this guy."
"Jesus, [Name], call off your attack dog!" your lab partner cried, trying to pry Yoongi's arm off him. He had a black eye, so you knew Yoongi had already hit him a few times.
"Stop it! Let him go!" You got between the two of them, but he again pushed you out of the way.
"You don't understand, [Name], so just go away." His eyes were wild as he shoved your lab partner harder into the wall.
"Look, I'm sorry, man," your lab partner said, his hands shaking as he held them in front of his face. "We didn't mean it! I'm sorry!"
Yoongi scoffed. "You didn't mean it?" You saw him rear a white-knuckled fist back, and you panicked.
You ducked under Yoongi's arm that was pinning your partner to the wall and got between them just as he swung forward, his fist landing on your cheek. You felt your lip split and the inside of your cheek tear against your teeth, your mouth filling with blood as you were sent flying backwards from the force of his punch.
You hit your head against the brick wall, the impact making your head spin. White spots flickered behind your eyelids, and your ears rang loudly. Your cheek burned, and you couldn't keep yourself upright. Yoongi instantly dropped your lab partner, who fell to the ground before scrambling to his feet and running away with his friends.
"Shit, [Name], I—" He put a hand on your cheek.
"I'm done," you snapped, slapping his hand away..
"What—[Name], I'm so sorry." He tried to help you up, but you shoved him back.
"Get away from me." You shakily got to your feet and glared at him through teary eyes.
He grabbed your wrist. "You don't understand, that guy was—"
"I don't want to hear it!" you snapped, ripping your arm out of his grip and narrowing your eyes at him. "God, what's wrong with you? What, did he look at you wrong? Go fuck yourself." You wiped the blood from your lips, shoulder checking him as you walked away. Your feet were still unsteady, but you just wanted to get away from him.
"Wait, hold on a second—"
" Don't follow me."
"Can I explain?" he called after you.
" No! Leave me alone!" You rounded the corner of the alley and ran into the library to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.
You were sick of him doing things like this. He had no concern for anyone but himself. Sometimes, you didn't know if you were his friend or his doormat. He never called, he ran away, showed up whenever he felt like it, and you always had to clean up his messes, whether it was cleaning up a literal mess in the apartment, covering for him, cleaning him up after fights, or bailing him out of whatever other kind of trouble he got into. He never thanked you, nor showed any kind of remorse. He used you again and again, and you just let him. And you were sick of it.
You spat out a mouthful of blood into the sink before rinsing your mouth out. You weren't going to try stop his stupid fights anymore. You were done with him. You went up to the roof of the library, figuring he might try to look for you at home—if he tried looking for you at all. You sat down with you back against the wall, absentmindedly running your tongue over your torn cheek.
Your head was killing you and you just wanted to go to sleep. You closed your eyes, and the next thing you knew, you were out.
~*~
You woke with a start as something extremely cold landed on your cheek. Your eyes shot open, and you tried to sit up, but a hand found your forehead and pushed you back down. You realized you were lying down with your head in someone's lap, and the person began to gently press the cold compress on your cheek.
"Yoongi?" you mumbled, putting your hand over the frozen pack to press it into your face. You couldn't see with it covering your eye, but it felt really good, so you didn't care. Your face still hurt, but you had calmed down.
"You need to know that guy wasn't who you thought he was."
"My lab partner?" you mumbled, trying to get up, but he just pushed your head back down again. He didn't sound like himself, he seemed ashamed, and probably didn't want you to see him.
"I overheard him talking about a study session you had planned for Friday, and those other guys—he was buying something to slip in your drink from them."
"What? Are you serious?" you gasped, furious. You were about to go running to find that dick and beat him up yourself.
Yoongi sighed. "I tried to stop the deal, get them to just walk away, but they wanted a fight, and so I gave them one."
You bit your lip. "I don't want you to get into fights for me."
"What was I supposed to do? He was going to—that he was even thinking of trying to hurt you… I wanted to kill him. I know I should have handled it better, but I was just so angry, and—" He sighed again. "…And I'm a fuck up. Are you okay?"
You were still trying to process the news that someone you thought was your friend was going to try to drug you. "I don't know," you finally answered, mostly referring to your emotional state, but Yoongi must've thought otherwise, because he sighed.
"You shouldn't sleep after a head injury, you know that. How many times have you had to tell me that?" He was rambling, and you knew it. "I wish I could've gotten to you sooner, but it was hard to find you. But I mean, you obviously wanted it that way."
"I guess my judgment's off; I've never really been punched in the face before. Though I have to say, I'm not a fan." You moved your jaw around, feeling it click slightly as you did.
"I'm sorry," he sighed.
You smiled, even though you knew he couldn't see it. "Eh, it's probably good for me. Character building and all that." You shrugged a little, sitting up. He pulled his knees up into his chest and rested his chin on them once you were off his lap, looking down at his shoes to avoid making eye contact with you.
"Don't say that. I hit you." His voice was uncharacteristically small, and you felt a pang in your chest.
"Yeah, well, you hit a lot of people." You took the ice pack and held it over his knuckles, which were bruised and split, obviously having not been taken care of after last night.
"But I hit you . I was trying to keep you from getting hurt, but ended up being the one doing the most damage." He retracted his hand so it wasn't underneath the ice pack. He felt like he deserved the pain, and wanted to feel it so he would remember that feeling he got in his gut when he realized he hit you by mistake.
You sighed. "That's why you shouldn't fight, and instead just talk to me. Kicking his ass wasn't the only solution."
"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice weak. "I messed up. I mess everything up." His hand tightened into a fist, and you gently took it into yours.
"I don't want your apologies. I want you to stop this." You tried to get him to look at you, but he refused. "Just come home, start going to school, and talk to me. I hate worrying about you." You brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss and rubbing circles into the back of it to try and comfort him.
He just shook his head. "Don't you get it?" He took his hand away and reached for the ice pack to put it back on your cheek. "I leave because I'm bad for you. I distract you, I get in the way of you being happy, and I cause you so much trouble. And you don't deserve any of that, so I disappear because I want you to get your life back." He looked away from you and sighed heavily. "We both know you're better off without me. But I'm too selfish to stay away, so every time your life gets good, I come back, and I make it hell for you again. You're the only person who has ever cared about what happens to me, but I'm constantly letting you down. I never should ha—"
"Shut up." You stopped him from going on any further with that nonsense.
"[Name]—"
"No, Yoongi, shut the fuck up. All I have ever wanted was for you to take care of yourself. Don't use me as an excuse for you making yourself miserable. Your life is absolute shit, I get that, but you can change it. Stop fucking around, stop being a dickhead, and get serious about your future. You say you want so badly to be better, but you refuse to do anything about it. I'm sick of it. You think no one will ever care about you, that you're not good enough, but you are . You really are. You just have to try a little, damn it." You stood and threw the ice pack into his lap. "Now I'm going home. Are you?"
He stared off into space as he reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it between his teeth. He got out his lighter, but he didn't use it. He just kept spinning it in his hand.
You scoffed at his lack of response. "Yeah, okay. Just let me know that you're safe for the night. And if you end up sleeping in a dumpster, lie to me so I can at least pretend that you're okay."
You walked away at that, leaving him there alone. It honestly kind of felt good to be the one walking away from him for once, but you couldn't help but wonder if you should have handled that better. He was depressed and angry, and had been that way for most of his life. It wasn't fair for you to assume he could just turn it off like a switch and start living a normal life.
He wasn't like you, even if you started out in the same place. Even back then, though, your conditions were different. His real parents had left scars on his life, when you couldn't even remember yours. Everything had always been harder for him, and he usually just made it worse by resisting every good thing that came his way. You really wished you knew how to help him. Maybe him accidentally punching you in the face was the best thing you had ever done for him.
Yoongi sat up on the roof for several minutes in silence, just twirling his lighter between his thumb and middle finger. He sighed. He'd had some pretty bad days before, but this was one of his worst. He'd woken up in the back of his shitty car that he made from shitty scrap parts to a cop writing him a ticket for being illegally parked on the side of the road. Then he'd sold all of his beer to some kids to get enough money to pay off the ticket, just to be told he had more tickets to pay when he got there. Later, he was looking around campus for some kind of job, trying to do the right thing for once, when he got in a fight where he got his face smashed in for the tenth time this month.
Then of course you found him and tried to help, because you always tried to help, and he ended up decking you full force. And worst of all, you said you were through putting up with him. He'd always been terrified of the day you realized you didn't need him, but he was almost relieved at the thought that he wouldn't be around to fuck things up for you anymore.
But for whatever reason, he couldn't let you go. He had to run after you and try to find you so he could properly apologize and make sure you were okay. After a moment of thought, he threw down the unlit cigarette and got up, running a hand through his hair. If he wanted to stop messing up, running away wasn't the answer. Doing better was. He pulled out his phone and told you to leave the door unlocked because he was coming home tonight, then headed over to the administration office.
He had a hell of a time getting anyone to take him seriously when he asked to sign up for the entrance exam because of how beat up he was, but he kept his composure. He told them he had been in a car accident, and they agreed to let him sign up for a test tomorrow. He passed a frat party on his way back to your apartment, and stole a pizza from them without anyone noticing. They had like 20 of those things—no one was going to miss it. He decided that he was trying to be better, not perfect.
Baby steps, right? He shrugged to himself as he made his way down the street with the pizza box. When he got to your apartment, he smiled a little at the unlocked door. He hoped that was a sign you were coming around to forgiving him, rather than you just being a dumbass and forgetting to lock up.
He went inside, but couldn't find you anywhere. You weren't at your desk or in bed, and his room was still locked like it was when he left.
"[Name]? Where are you? I brought pizza."
"You did?" you called out, sounding more excited than he had ever heard you. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Okay! Hang on, I'll be right out. I'm almost done!"
You were currently in your bathtub, buried beneath a mountain of bubbles. You were scared they were going to spill out onto the floor, but you lowered the water level to make it work.
You didn't actually get his text since you went straight to the tub as soon as you got home, and you left the bathroom door open because of it.
He leaned against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. "Is this what you do while I'm gone?" he asked, looking around at the candles, brightly colored water and bubbles, and loud music blaring from your laptop a few feet away from the tub.
"Shut up," you muttered. "It's soothing."
"I'll bet." His smirked widened when he caught sight your bra and underwear on the floor. You had been wearing leggings earlier that day, so of course you decided to wear a thong on the one day he would be home to see it.
"Can you get out?" You splashed some water at him, though you were careful not to disrupt any of the bubbles that were keeping you covered. "What are you even doing home? Shouldn't you be out barking at people?"
"Can't." He smiled. "I have to study."
That made you sit up a bit. "Study? For what?"
He chuckled at your reaction. "Entrance exam. Tomorrow at 11:00."
"11:00 a.m.?" Your eyes were wide. "Will you be able to make that?"
"That's your first question?" he deadpanned, and you laughed.
"Sorry, I just..." You shook your head, smiling. "I can't believe it. I kind of just don't know how to react."
"Well, for starters, you could sit up a little more," he said, raising his eyebrows at you. You scoffed and sank deeper into the tub, covering your chest with your arms. He snickered and you smiled slightly.
"I'm really proud of you, Yoongi."
He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Why? I haven't done anything yet." He shrugged meekly.
"No, but you will. I believe in you." You sighed contently, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.
Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before, and it made his heart stir. You heard him move, and figured he left the room to go study, but then you felt his hand brush your hair away from your forehead as he knelt down behind the tub and kissed your forehead.
"Wh-What are you doing?" you mumbled, opening your eyes and turning over in the tub so you were on your stomach with your back arched up against the side of the tub. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you didn't care. Your focus was currently elsewhere.
"Shut up and let me kiss you," he replied, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes went wide, but you didn't stop him. You knew how you felt about him—hell, you hid him in your attic for almost two years. You knew you loved him. But he was always so closed off, so you had no idea how he felt. You tried to kiss him back, but as soon as you did, you felt a searing pain in your lip.
"Ow!" you winced, pulling back as you realized you just re-split your lip.
"Oh shit." He sighed, wiping away the little bit of blood with his thumb. "I'm sorry. God, why does this always happen?" He deflated, and you put a hand around to the back of his head to pull him down to kiss you again.
"It's okay," you reassured him, pressing your lips to his again, trying not to let anything stop the moment.
"Doesn't that hurt?" he mumbled against your lips, trying to pull back a hair so he was just barely grazing your lips.
"Just stay to the right," you grumbled, sitting up to meet him to close the distance he created.
"Your right or mine?" he asked, and you sighed heavily, pulling away and turning over so you were sitting in the tub normally again as you crossed your arms over your chest.
"Idiot. You ruined the moment."
"No, wait, let me try again." He put his hands on your shoulders to try and turn you back around, but you just sank deeper into the tub.
"Forget it," you grumbled. "You can try again tomorrow after you pass the entrance exam."
He kissed the top of your head again before standing up. "Okay, deal. I'll go reheat the pizza while you finish up here." He stood and walked over to the door before pausing and turning around with a smirk. "You know, I could see your ass the whole time you were flipped over."
Your cheeks went bright red and you looked away from him, trying to keep a level tone as you shot back, "If you want see it again, you better go study."
He laughed, and continued his way out the door. "Yes ma'am."
"Can you shut the door?" you called after him, wondering how you were going to get out of the tub now.
"Not on your life," he shot back, setting up a chair at the end of the hall so he could eat his pizza while looking into the bathroom.
"Oh my god!" you snapped, throwing a shampoo bottle down the hall at him while he laughed again.
"Kidding, I'm kidding!" he said, moving the chair back over to the dining table. "Join me when you're done."
You couldn't stop the smile that blossomed on your lips at that.