Work Text:
Yerba pronounced (Sh)erba and Mate: MAH-Tae
-Spanish-
“Korean”
There were many things that Yoongi hated about Argentina. The trash on the streets, the stray dogs nipping at your heels in the small towns, the way everyone INSISTED on talking to you (no matter if they knew you or not), the roaches that squished under his shoes at night, the accent that he couldn’t understand, he could go on for days really.
Namjoon bore the brunt of it all, taking the complaints with stride as he sat at his computer on the complete opposite side of the world. He’d just smile and tell Yoongi that it was only for a year, and besides, maybe if he stopped expecting his experience to be shit then just maybe it wouldn’t be.
So far, nothing had really managed to prove Yoongi wrong though. Take that Namjoon.
But he did have to admit that on days like this, he hated Argentina a little less.
He had stumbled out of his little corner apartment, the humidity from the Paraná River hitting him square in the face as he hurried down the steps.
A storm was coming soon, everyone could feel it. The air would only get thicker and hotter until it all broke loose, tropical storm level winds and thunder that shook the windows battering the region until everything was still once again.
So, judging by how hard it was to breathe he guessed that it really could happen any time now. There were clouds on the horizon, waiting to bathe everything in darkness.
There was one good thing about storms, the emptiness they brought.
Yoongi didn’t mean emotional emptiness, but literal emptiness. The skies looked mere hours, maybe even minutes, from a downpour and that meant that citizens would be taking a sick day; hiding themselves up in their houses.
Not Yoongi, no, even if he got sopping wet and the lightning crashing above shook his bones, these were some of his favorite days to be outside.
Days when the normal chit chat of the office would be to a minimum, days where the familiarity of Korea would wash over him as foreigners part of the same program as him would sit still and peacefully at their desks.
Just like clockwork, as soon as he stepped off the bus there was a crack that rattled him to his core and the rain came fast and hard. He sprinted the last few meters to the front doors of the high rise and dove in, shaking off droplets before continuing. His office was on the eighth floor, high above the streets that were already turning into ankle high rivers.
Just as he predicted, there was a quiet atmosphere, many desks empty as he walked through and a few people politely nodding hello as he strode past. He had really only settled his things under his desk when the click clack of dress shoes distracted him. Three strode his boss, tall and intense, making his way down the aisle.
Luck was not on his side today, he thought to himself as his boss stopped in front of him, knocking upon the wooden surface of his desk.
-Hello sir- It was getting easier to switch his brain into translation mode but it was still highly exhausting.
-Good morning Yoongi, I have a special task for you today-
-Oh?-
His boss moved a few feet to the side, showing a previously hidden man, he had wide eyes and his fingers tightly gripped his briefcase.
-This is Jung Hoseok, he is starting today. I would like you to show him the ropes, get him acquainted to our office.-
He gave a little polite nod to this ‘Jung Hoseok,’ who bowed his head back.
-Of course sir, I can do that.-
-Thank you Yoongi, I already had your work for today transferred to other employees, just focus on Mr. Jung here- He patted Hoseok on the shoulder before excusing himself and heading back to his main office.
To be truthful, he hadn’t done this before. He was more the “get your work done and eat lunch alone” kind of guy, not really “the first friendly face” kind of guy. So he didn’t really know what to say, rather excusing himself to roll a chair from an empty desk over so that the new guy could sit.
Hoseok thanked him quietly before sticking his hand out, obviously unsure if he was allowed to touch him.
-Jung Hoseok, nice to meet you. -
-Min Yoongi, nice to meet you as well. - He grabbed his hand.
-Your Spanish is really good- Hoseok spoke with a small smile.
-Thank you- he smiled back, -I’m assuming you are from around here? You obviously sound like a native-
Hoseok nodded, fingers still tightly gripping his bag -You’re actually the first co-worker I’ve met who didn’t automatically assumed that I’m on exchange.-
-Yeah well, It did surprise me how d-d-
-diverse?-
-Yes, diverse thank you. How diverse Argentina was when I first got here, I think some of the others still haven’t gotten over that.-
-Ah- Hoseok smiled again.
Thunder cracked outside and Hoseok shrunk a little into his chair, knuckles white.
-Here, you can put your bag down and I’ll give you the tour, okay?-
He didn’t answer, instead just slipping his briefcase onto the ground and standing to follow Yoongi. Yoongi learned he was from one of the smaller towns in the region and had just moved to the city for this job. He learned that his family moved here from Korea when he was just a few weeks old, and that he could speak some Korean, though it sounded much like Yoongi’s Spanish probably sounded.
They talked as they walked, Hoseok following behind with his hands clasped tightly together and posture rigid all the meanwhile it poured outside.
Yoongi learned that he actually didn’t quite mind training, it was kind of a nice disruption to the daily flow of paperwork.
It made the day go by faster, despite the dark atmosphere outside, and soon enough he was packing his things up and heading downstairs with Hoseok in tow. The sky had opened, and although the city was still draining the sky was blue.
They said a friendly goodbye and Yoongi dodged the river in the gutter as he hopped onto the bus. Argentinian bus drivers: the earth splitting apart wouldn’t stop them.
When he called Namjoon that night, they talked about things back home, how Namjoon had finally gotten the number of the cafe boy he had been pining over for weeks. When It came to the time where Yoongi usually went into his whole complaining segment, he looked out the window at the water dripping off the leaves instead and let Namjoon continue on, voice happily fluttering, for the rest of the night.
It was a couple of weeks before he talked to Jung Hoseok again. They had seen each other at the office, small little hellos in passing, but like he said, he was an “Eat lunch by yourself” kind of guy and that wasn’t going to change.
Surprisingly the next time they actually, really talked was not at work.
Instead it was a Sunday afternoon on the shore of the river.
If Argentina had one redeeming quality, it would be the fair on the river bank. Every week, families and couples gathered together to walk up and down the beach. Hundreds of white tents were set up, small business owners vending treats and hand crafted goods to the people. The pastries? Top tier.
Yoongi had been strolling along, looking for anything interesting and new to try (he had tried membrillo a couple weeks ago and now he was hooked on membrillo pastries) when he spotted the new kid.
Hoseok was bent over at a table, talking animatedly to the vendor who was lifting up various cups and displaying them.
They were called mates (mahtaes), at least that’s what one of his co-workers had said. They were kind of hard to miss, every individual carrying around some sort of version of one, sitting in parks and on doorsteps drinking from a shared straw as they laughed.
Yoongi always found it really awkward to pass through those groups. Always mumbling apologies as he skirted between lawn chairs that took up the whole sidewalk.
There weren't any lawn chairs that he had to dodge here, it really only took him a few seconds for his feet to lead him over to Hoseok. It took him a lot more time to actually open his mouth and say something though, enough time that he actually didn't have to say anything. Hoseok turned around and ran right into him, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he got thrown off balance.
-Sorry sorry!- Yoongi reached out to stabilize him.
-Oh Yoongi!- Hoseok blinked, "Or I mean Yoongi Hyung" The korean words left his mouth awkwardly. -I talked to my parents last night and they said that would be the proper way to address you "Hyung". That's okay right?-
Yoongi, who was honestly still trying to catch up with the fact that he was basically holding the other in his arms, simply nodded.
-Hey sir! Don't forget this!- the vendor called Hoseok, a bag in his outstretched hand, and consequently saved Yoongi's life.
Yoongi wasn't stupid, Hoseok was beautiful, really really beautiful. He had seen it that first day in the office but it was even more accentuated in the bright sunny light. It was like something had shifted in him, gone was any form of timidness that he had seen at the office, instead there sat a comfortable grin and a pleasing air. So when Hoseok pulled away and thanked the vendor, Yoongi finally was able to suck some air into his lungs.
-Hyung! Look how beautiful this is!- Hoseok turned back around and took the little wooden mate out of his bag. -I already have like a billion at home but I'm a sucker for a pretty mate.-
-It is really pretty- Yoongi agreed quietly, admiring the dark wood.
-You've had mate right?-
-Um... no, actually-
Hoseok's face looked like he had just told him that he was an alien from Mars, lips forming a triangle as he gawked. And that was how he ended up following Hoseok from booth to booth for the rest of the morning as the younger went on and on about how they had to find the "perfect" one. Eventually a little glass one caught his eye (Hoseok said he wasn't allowed to have a wood one yet) it was delicate, wrapped in stained leather around the outside. Gray rimmed glass and black soft leather, Hoseok made him pose with it, him smiling awkwardly at the camera with the Paraná flowing in the background.
That was also how he ended up catching a taxi and once again following the younger around a shopping center as he shoved little bags of what he called "Yerba" into his arms. They smelled like grass, grass clippings, making his nose tickle as they walked.
And, that was how Hoseok somehow convinced him to catch yet another taxi and go back to his apartment. He actually didn't live too far from Yoongi, maybe a couple more street blocks closer to the city center.
Finally, that was how he ended up seated at Hoseok’s tiny kitchen table, watching and waiting as the younger flitted around his cabinets, pulling out some biscuit looking things and opening one of Yoongi's newly bought "Yerba" bags. He tipped it over into Yoongi's new cup, filling it up to the brim and Yoongi felt his eyebrows raise as Hoseok poured an obscene amount of sugar in as well.
-Usually I like a little less sugar, but since it's your first time drinking it...- Hoseok mumbled as he went to the stove and got the warming kettle off the burner. He stuck in a strange looking straw, pushing it around until he was satisfied and poured the water in. The sugar disappeared like a magic trick, leaving a green leafy soup behind.
-Ooooookay- Hoseok sighed, pushing it over to him, -usually we share one cup but I know that can be a bit weird at first so... drink away. I have to warn you, the first round is going to be VERY bitter.-
Hoseok was right, it was absolutely disgusting, but the other boy was looking at him with such wide eyes that he curled up his toes and finished the water in the cup.
-That was, that was... interesting- he managed, trying to not show any expression on his face.
-I know it’s awful,- Hoseok laughed, -but it gets better, I promise!-
He reached over and put another healthy share of sugar into Yoongi's cup, and started preparing his own.
The rest of the day passed like that, Hoseok explaining the very careful process of caring for wooden Mates, pouring more water into Yoongi cup even though he insisted that he was full of biscuits.
After that, well, Yoongi couldn’t experience Hoseok without experiencing mate too.
He’d bring it over to Yoongi's desk during lunch break, always two separate cups which Yoongi appreciated. On Sundays he would drag Yoongi over to his house after walking through the white tents of the fair, Hoseok’s grip tight on his forearm keeping him close in the crowds.
Hoseok talked, Yoongi mostly listened, interjecting once in a while to fix pronunciation or give words in Korean when Hoseok wanted to practice, and sipping quietly on the bitter drink.
Pretty soon Hoseok turned to Hobi in his phone’s contacts, you wouldn’t see one without the other during work, and Yoongi spent less and less time telling Namjoon about what he hated in Argentina.
Sometimes Hobi was even there when he and Namjoon had their video calls. Sundays became designated as “Hobi days” in Namjoon’s mind.
He mentioned it to Hoseok once and he had loved it (of course he did) so now every Saturday night Hoseok would send him little texts like: “It’s Hobi day tomorrow Hyung!” or “Where are we going for Hobi day?”
Then one day Yoongi found out Hoseok’s secret.
It was a stormy day, that much was obvious, dark clouds were circling up above and instead of breathing the air, it was like he was drinking it. This one was going to be big, the type where the thunder would shake and rattle the window frames in all the old houses.
It was also Hobi day.
Never in their time knowing each other had Hobi day been canceled, so when Hoseok texted that he couldn’t make it a little warning bell went off in Yoongi’s head.
And Yoongi, as rational as he was, was very irrational when it came to his warning bells.
He stuffed his feet into his rain boots and grabbed the strongest umbrella he had before braving it outside in the winds and torrents.
Of course, as soon as he made it down the stairs it started pouring, and Yoongi felt like one of the “wicked” left behind by Noah and his Arc. The water sloshed around his feet and he knew that putting his umbrella up would be useless, he had broken too many to try it again.
Instead he just pushed to go as fast as he could the couple of blocks to Hoseok's flat.
He made it, by some miracle he made it and he wasted no time pounding on the door. After all, as much as he was worried about Hobi, he was starting to worry about himself as violent ribbons of lightning started splitting the sky apart.
“Hobi!” He yelled over the wind “Hyung’s going to get carried away like in the Wizard of Oz, so please open!”
There was the sound of running footsteps for a few seconds before the door opened just enough for a hand to snake its way outside and pull him through.
Hoseok’s eyes were puffy and red, a large blanket hung heavily from his shoulders as he looked at Yoongi in disbelief.
-What are you doing here?-
-It’s Hobi day- Yoongi simply shrugged, trying to resist the shivers that were making their way through his rain soaked body.
“You’re soaped!”
“Soa-KED” Yoongi corrected, holding his arms close to his chest.
-Come on.- Like a whirlwind Hoseok pushed Yoongi into the bathroom, piling a towel and fresh clothes in his arms. -Hurry, shower and get warm-
Yoongi was glad Hoseok's apartment seemed to have a decent water heater. Usually during a storm like this, his own water stayed cold for days.
He quickly showered and got dressed, Hoseok's already oversized shirt falling past mid-thigh. He shyly opened the door. -Seok? Where should I put my wet clothes?-
Hoseok appeared in seconds, he took the clothes and threw them in a dryer Yoongi couldn’t help but notice how... bad he looked.
Once again, Yoongi wasn’t blind, Hoseok was beautiful but right then he looked about 30 years older, shoulders hunched and head low.
-Hoseok? Are you okay?-
Hobi looked back at him, big blanket still drowning out his figure
“Hyung, I'm fine-“ But the roaring thunder cut him off as he shut his eyes tight.
Oh, oh, so that’s why.
-Hobi, are you scared of storms?-
The confirmation was there in Hoseok’s shaking fingers that struggled to pull the blanket tighter around him.
-Okay don’t worry, I’ve got this-
Yoongi’s warning bells were never wrong.
He dragged Hoseok into his bedroom, making him sit on the bed before running to draw the curtains so that he couldn’t see the sky. -I’ll be right back okay?- He waited for Hobi to nod, though it was hard to see in the pile of blankets.
He had seen Hoseok do it enough times that it was practically muscle memory. He just let instinct take over as he set the kettle on the stove and got Hobi’s favorite cup out of the cabinet. He knew where the sugar was kept, the yerba too, and his fingers worked fast to prepare the drink.
When he made it back to the room, a thermos with hot water inside under his arm, Hoseok had scooted back to press against the headboard. He had hands to his ears, and he was humming. Yoongi recognized the tune, it was a Korean one he had shown him a couple weeks before.
-Hobi, I have your favorite,- he carefully crawled onto the bed, setting the thermos down to slowly pry one of the younger’s hands off.
He opened his eyes slowly, eyes focusing on the cup that Yoongi was now pouring water into. His body relaxed ever so slightly.
-Storms can suck, I know,- Yoongi tried to distract him. -Namjoon’s little brother hates them too. I try to think of them in a different way. They are scary and harsh, but afterward, there’s a kind of peace that settles in the air.-
Hoseok was looking at him now, eyes big and captivating.
Yoongi switched to Korean, knowing Hoseok liked it when he used his drawling accent, “The birds start singing, the air is clean, it’s like a new start”
He looked down at the mate in his hands, “It’s kind of like this drink, the first round is always so bitter that it makes you forget how good it can be after. How sweet the yerba starts to taste.”
Hoseok just peered at him, curious.
Yoongi looked at him for a few more seconds before lifting the straw to his mouth and draining the cup, wincing.
He then carefully filled it up again, pouring in more sugar before handing it over to Hobi, whose mouth was slightly ajar.
“You want to share?” He asked.
Yoongi nodded, blush creeping into his cheeks. Hoseok seemed to forget the torrential downpour outside, if only just a little, and sent him a small surprised smile before he started drinking as well.
-It’s kind of like Argentina too,- he kept talking. -When I first came here, all I could see was the bad things, but now... well now I think I’m just starting to see it differently.”
Hoseok took the sugar from his hand, taking his turn to prepare it before passing it back to the older. -You hated Argentina?-
-I don’t know, I guess I just hadn’t been able to see the positives, like Namjoon said.- Yoongi took it back, sipping the now slightly sweeter substance.
-What changed?-
Hoseok was playing with his own fingers, gaze cast downwards at the sheets.
Maybe after surviving Noah’s Arc, Yoongi was just feeling brave, or maybe it was something else entirely that made him say “I guess I found one pretty big positive.”
Hoseok's head shot up.
“And he’s impossible to hate”
Yoongi watched as the realization hit Hoseok in the face, redness creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks.
Hobi cleared his throat a couple of times, reaching out to take the cup back -They say that drinking mate has almost magical effects. In our culture, drinking mate is a show of love and kinship. For me, drinking means that you will be bonded for life in a way.-
It was Yoongi's turn to feel heat fill up his cheeks.
-You know that everyone drinks mate with everyone here , but I’ve always loved that idea. That you can be connected to someone like that.- Hoseok took a shaky breath in “I wouldn’t mind being bonded to you for life, Hyung”
Raindrops pounded against the window. Yoongi’s heart pounded even harder.
“Oh, um, yeah. Me too, with you.” Yoongi managed to say, watching as Hoseok's irises melted into honey.
There was another roar of thunder outside, and Yoongi reached over to take the mate from Hoseok's hand and put it on the bedside table. His hands enveloped Hoseok’s, pulling him closer as the storm grew more intense outside.
“It’ll be fine, I promise.”
He pulled the younger into his lap, pulling him tight against his chest. He was shaking again, but his breathing was steady as it puffed out against Yoongi’s shoulder.
Bonded for life? Call him crazy, but he liked the sound of that.
Just like that, Yoongi started taking storm days off from work. His boss had not been very happy about it, but it was worth it when he got to pull Hoseok back into bed on cloudy mornings and whisper into his ears about everything and nothing. Yoongi talked, and Hoseok listened.
They still drank mate, they still walked together on Sundays. But instead of Hoseok's hand dragging him by his arm, it was clasped in his own hand as they fed each other pastries and bought hand made cups to add to their growing collection.
They still ate lunch together, Hoseok perched on top of Yoongi's desk stealing kisses when nobody was looking. Instead of packing up his bags at the end of the year, he asked for an extension, but surprised Hoseok with a trip back to Korea in the Spring.
And as Yoongi sat on the couch with Namjoon, watching as Hoseok and Jin talked happily in the kitchen, he told Namjoon about Argentina.
Because Yoongi loved Argentina. He loved the neighborhood taxi drivers who remembered your name. He loved walking on the sandy beach along the river bank. He loved the weekend concerts where families carried mates in lunch boxes and sat and talked as music floated pleasantly in the background. He especially loved Hoseok.
Yeah, out of all the things in Argentina, he loved Hoseok the most.