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oftentimes, their days off go like this: yoongi finds himself getting coddled into ‘team bonding’ on the sofa in the main room. team bonding usually, usually, meant snuggling. and snuggling usually entails hoseok nudging incessantly at yoongi's neck with his nose; taehyung laying either between his legs or on top of them, and effectively cutting off his blood circulation, tail fwumping excitedly against the seat cushions; and namjoon trying, unsuccessfully, to sit with yoongi between his thighs like hoseok has him, giving up and opting for the floor in the end, his grey, velvety ears close enough for yoongi to fiddle with. jimin and seokjin join too, the younger more prone than the latter to indulge in the skinship hell that is Collectively Crushing Yoongi. if he's not one of the first to join the pile on the couch, he sits on the closest armrest, resting his chin between hoseok's neck and shoulder and tickling him with his twitching ears. when he does it this way yoongi holds hand with him, proffering a warm palm that isn't messing with namjoon's head. seokjin curls up on the other end of the couch, somehow fitting over taehyung’s outstretched legs, and batting at his tail with curious hands and a fond smile. they have a very long sofa.
most times, jeongguk conveniently finds ways to not puddle cuddle with the other members; pretending not to like the sweaty tangle of limbs, taehyung and jimin panting amicably in his face, getting his tail trapped between someone's legs. but the feline maknae isn't really the greatest at pretending, and the 95 line pups find ways to cuddle up next to him whenever he ducks out of bonding time.
their usual preferences aside, today is not that kind of day. everyone is off doing something or another in their free time, yoongi sprawled out on the couch by himself, all thin limbs and the lazy curl of his tail off of the edge of the seat as his eyes flicker over the television screen in disinterest. he's not watching, but needs a reason to hog the sofa when the others are around. even though he isn't entirely opposed to snuggling up with two or three of the other members, he has a reputation to uphold.
barely anything in the dorm is moving, and yoongi almost finds himself dozing to the dull hum of the drama on screen, the volume too low to actually make out meaningful conversation.
he doesn't make it all the way to sleep because of course, namjoon wants to start some shit as soon as yoongi has enough inspiration to slip into the depths of slumber. a plastic bowl clatters to the ground in the room over, the kitchen, and yoongi is jolting up with a hiss, ears alert and hairs raised. he calms significantly when the other pokes his head out of the doorway, flashing a dimple and an apologetic look before retreating. his ears are back against his hair, and yoongi figures that the noise was loud for him too. serves him right. the brief panic makes way for mild irritation, and yoongi has to sink himself back into the cushions to keep from being too salty.
his irritation seeps away and is replaced with familiar drowsiness. some music show is on now, and the warbling of a ballad joins the static buzz from other electronics in the room, the fridge in the kitchen. but then namjoon drops something again, and yoongi doesn’t even have the decency to wince anymore, shuddering awake and slumping further into the couch. “hey, if you don’t know how to hold things properly, you should get the fuck out of the kitchen. i’m trying to sleep, and it’d be really cool and considerate of you to stop being obnoxious.”
all he gets is a snort. “sorry, hyung. you could always go to your bed?” yoongi didn’t sign up for this sassy bullshit. he would get up, too, and stalk right into the kitchen for some good old Confrontation, but he doesn’t because his position on the couch is marvelous, and namjoon is already out of the kitchen, coaxing him out of his warm seat so that the younger can squeeze himself between the armrest with yoongi’s back on his chest.
yoongi isn’t too fond of the manhandling, but lets it happen anyway, batting away namjoon’s hands when they try to pet him between the ears, if the way they flicker away from his touch is any indication. there was only so much he was ok with in such a short period of time. namjoon’s hand is sheepish on its descent, and awkwardly finds a place in yoongi’s lap, tangled with the feline’s palms and not allowed to roam.
“stop fidgeting, christ. you’re the one that wanted to hold me, and now you can’t stay still.”
“live a little, yoongi hyung.” truthfully, he can’t stop moving because yoongi’s actually giving him a little more than part of the time of day, but he isn’t going to say that.
“live a little? i want to nap a little so if you could stop squirming like a toddler that’s gotta piss it’d be much appreciated.” yoongi shifts a little himself, scooting down and finding a comfortable notch in namjoon’s body to rest his head. namjoon settles down, eventually, squeezing yoongi’s hand encouragingly, and yoongi’s tail swishes from the action, curling softly around empty space.
slumber reaches yoongi after having to hit namjoon a couple of times, all wrapped up in the younger and muffled girl group songs from the forgotten television, and even though he wants to be mad when the other members rouse him from sleep a few hours later by joining the party, he doesn’t have it in him.