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It’s a night Yoongi doesn’t even want to recall because he wakes up to a morning full of regret and burning hatred that will probably fuel his daily rage for the next seventy five years.
It all started out innocent enough but one thing led to another and he’s got strawberry pink hair. Looking at Hoseok draped on the couch, he notices that one of the boy’s eyebrows was shaved (or cut off three parts) to make it look like a fuck up version but still three-lined Adidas logo. Seokjin is imperial-looking as he dozes on the floor, hugging a bottle of soju and one of Hoseok’s stuffed animals. He doesn’t look like someone had messed him up real bad last night until Yoongi’s eyes drift to his hands and notices how they were suspiciously splattered with red and pink dye.
He bolts awake then and stomps towards Seokjin, fingers curling on the other boy’s hair as he tugs harshly on it. “Wake the fuck up you good for nothing little-“
“Shut the fuck up, why you gotta be so damned pissy and cursing at seven in the fucking morning?” Namjoon yells from the bathroom. A quick peek over his shoulder shows that the boy is slumped over the toilet bowl and his hair – oh holy shit, what the hell happened there?
Namjoon’s once shaggy haircut had been reduced to a buzz cut on both sides, probably by someone who attempted to give him a Mohawk. And since they were all drunk last night and none of them had the expertise to wield scissors close to how professionals at salons did it, Namjoon ended up with a very bad hairstyle (the hair in the middle is all floppy and, god, he’s tempted to just hold the boy down and shave the rest of it all off, save him from walking out in the light of day looking like that.).
Yoongi drops his hold on Seokjin’s hair, the older boy’s head giving a loud thump as it hits the floor. Yoongi is unsympathetic at this point because Seokjin is the only one coming out of this room looking normal and pretty – pretty hungover and probably still riding a high, but still pretty. God fucking damn him, Yoongi thinks, I hope he chokes on water.
He glances at the clock and is shocked to find that it’s already three in the afternoon.
“It’s not seven in the morning, you bastard. It’s already three,” Comes Hoseok’s voice from behind Yoongi. As he sits up and stretches, eyes now open, Yoongi can’t help but stare at his eyebrows. He laughs, his body vibrating from it and his head aching because they’re making too much noise after such an ungodly night. What they need right now is pancakes and nobody seems to be alive enough for it.
“Oh, shit, Yoongi – “ Hoseok stammers, a finger pointed at his hair. “I don’t know if you noticed but your hair,” Hoseok cuts himself off, head thrown back in laughter. “It’s pink! Fucking pink, man!”
At that, Seokjin stirs awake and Yoongi, all reason out the window because his hair is pink (he offers a silent prayer to his ancestors for his pink hair and also for the crime he was about to commit), lounges at him, hands going for his throat, a scream that sounded surprisingly high pitched erupting from his mouth. Namjoon and Hoseok stops him mid-strangle and tackles him onto the floor. He struggles under Namjoon’s weight and he doesn’t know what his foot’s just kicked but a groan from Hoseok a second after the impact pretty much tells him that he might’ve just crushed the boy’s family jewels.
They untangle themselves off of each other and Hoseok rolls over to his side, knees curled up. Namjoon is thrown unceremoniously off of Yoongi, rather harshly, too, and his knee bumps into a chair that promptly falls on top of him after. Seokjin gets up off the floor, eyes wide with accusation and what could only be fear as he slowly backs away from the mess.
“What – “ He stares around the apartment and his mouth drops into a small “o” when his eyes settle back on his friends. “Yoongi – wow, your hair, and Hoseok, what –“ A glance at Namjoon and he hunches, arms bracing his knees as laughter rocks his whole body. He laughs loudly and it only adds to Yoongi’s headache. “Oh, shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit ohshitohshitohshitohshit!”
Hoseok’s gotten over the pain (his family jewels are fine, folks), and laughs with Seokjin, eyes darting from Namjoon then to Yoongi. He’s laughing so hard that he ends up with tears in his eyes. “You should see yourselves – “
But Seokjin rounds on him this time and points at his eyebrow, “You should check the mirror,”
Hoseok screams at what he finds in the mirror and Namjoon, after running his fingers through his almost non-existent hair, almost faints if Yoongi hadn’t kicked him off the floor.
“Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi is practically seething. Seokjin, alarmed at the situation, raises both hands – wrong move because it’s now more evident that he’s the culprit for Yoongi’s new hair – and slowly backs away. His back hits the door and he lets out a tiny little squeal as Yoongi draws closer.
“Why’s he the only one without any souvenirs from last night?” Namjoon is sniffling, Yoongi notices. Hoseok is standing over Namjoon’s shoulder, trying to peek over him to look into the mirror. Hoseok doesn’t seem worse for wear, eyebrows, really, that’s not too bad (although eyebrow hair did take a considerably longer amount of time to grow as opposed to Namjoon’s hair, hah.). He gives Namjoon’s back a reassuring pat but he’s not sounding too sincere, what with how he’s always snickering every other ten seconds.
“Trust me, he’s not leaving this room unscathed,” Yoongi says, stopping just a feet or so away from Seokjin who’s got nowhere to go. His hands fumble blindly behind him, trying to open the door. “If you step out of here, I’m going to break into your apartment and burn everything you love.”
What stops Seokjin from fumbling around and shuts both Namjoon and Hoseok up is not Yoongi’s threat but the intercom ringing.
“Did we order food?” Hoseok beams, bounding towards the door.
“No,” Yoongi says, curious now.
“Is that the mail?” Namjoon asks, drawing closer to the other three.
“They don’t normally ring the intercom,” Yoongi’s eyebrows are furrowed. Seokjin turns around and pushes the button for answer. The four of them take a step away from the door, waiting with bated breaths (and maybe a little bit hopeful that it could be chicken and pizza, someone drunkenly calling for delivery whilst the rest were sleeping). Instead of a delivery person’s voice, though, an all too familiar high pitched voice greets them.
“Yoongi?” Oh, god, no. Any other day and Yoongi would welcome Jimin into his apartment, red carpet and all, but today is definitely not a good day. His place is trashed and his hair is pink and he’s got these three idiots here (granted, he always has an idiot in his apartment, living with Jung Hoseok and all). “My classes were cancelled this afternoon so I thought of stopping by,” Jimin hums a little bit, “Hellloooo? Are you not home? Ah, I should’ve texted. But I thought you’d be sleeping in so I have coffee and bagels – “
At the mention of food, Hoseok bounds to the intercom and practically screams, “Yes, come the hell up already!” And he buzzes Jimin in.
Yoongi rounds on his three friends and squints his eyes at them, “Don’t even dare – “
But Jimin’s already through the door and kicking his shoes off and, god, he looks adorable all bundled up and buried in at least three layers of clothes. Hoseok grabs for the bagels and sets himself down on the couch while Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi. “This is Jimin?”
It’s not like Yoongi was hiding the boy. Hoseok’s met him a couple of times already since Jimin sleeps over sometimes, practically spends a whole day or two in the apartment. It’s just that Yoongi doesn’t really like to talk about these kinds of things. If his friends saw, then great. If they didn’t – then that’s okay, too, he’s not going to gloat about it in their faces. (The morning he came back from his “blind date” with Jimin, he’d only excused himself from their questions with a simple, “I had dinner with someone who’s pretty cute.”)
Seokjin looks visibly relieved now because he’s more confident Yoongi won’t assault him in front of his other friend. Lover? Boyfriend? Special friend? Whatever they are, Seokjin’s thankful to Jimin for his very timely interruption.
Namjoon grabs a cup of coffee after a very casual, “Hey, I’m Namjoon, and I’ll have some of this.” He scurries off on the couch and sits himself down next to Hoseok who looks like he’d starved for the past thirty years.
“Um,” Jimin starts, eyes flickering over Yoongi’s hair and to Seokjin whose eyes are still wide, having feared for his life mere seconds ago. “You can have the bagel, if you want?”
Seokjin smiles at him gratefully, “Thank you, Park Jimin.” And before he turns around, he waves at him, “I’m Seokjin. And, really, thank you.” The thank you is laden with more than just gratitude for the bagel. He’s not out of the clear yet, Yoongi thinks.
Finally, it’s just the two of them left standing by the apartment’s entrance. He sticks his hand out and Jimin passes him the last remaining coffee. The boy really is after his own heart, Yoongi thinks, after he lets out a rather grateful sigh after his first sip of the coffee.
Jimin’s eyes are darting from his hair to his face and he shuffles around, looking a little bit taken aback by just how busy the whole apartment is and how Min Yoongi’s hair is a very light pink. “Hey, your hair – “
Yoongi shakes his hand, “Yes, it’s pink and a total abomination. I woke up like this,”
Namjoon almost chokes on his coffee, hearing that little comment, “We all woke up to a nightmare.” He runs a hand through his hair and cringes. Ouch.
“No, I mean, it suits you,” Jimin says, smiling a little bit now. His eyes are starting to twinkle, and god, they’d seen each other just a day ago but Yoongi realises he’s missed this smile. Realises that he’s craving for it now. “It looks cute,”
Oh. If there’s any word that Yoongi thought would never be used to describe him, then it was cute. Park Jimin is cute. Adorable. Absolutely gorgeous and a total package, really, which makes the rest of his friends wonder what kind of lottery Yoongi had won in his past life to have stumbled on this boy. Park Jimin is cute and Min Yoongi – well, cute just doesn’t work that well. Grumpy, short-tempered, caffeine and alcohol junky works, too. But cute?
Jimin laughs and Yoongi still has a headache but he lets Jimin’s laughter wash over him like honey. This laugh sounds like it’s just the perfect remedy to a terrible morning hangover (or afternoon hangover, semantics, really).
“Was it by, um,” Jimin looks over Yoongi’s shoulder to check the other three, “By accident?”
Yoongi groans, “A total nightmare. I’m getting rid of it as soon as pos – “
He gets cut off mid-sentence as Jimin places a hand on his shoulder, and with a very serious look in his eyes, says, “No, no. It looks really, really good on you,” his voice is low and he’s standing really close to Yoongi, eyes staring straight into his. The fingers of his free hand finds their way into his hair, pulling at the strands of pink.
Yoongi is smirking at Jimin's reaction, the side of his mouth quirked into a half-smile, a tease underlying the soft curve of his lips. He hadn’t expected this kind of reaction from him (expected screaming and a demand that he dye it back or else they’ll never have cute coffee dates and hot make out sessions). But instead, he gets this, and it’s very interesting indeed.
His smirk is met with a quirk of Jimin’s eyebrows. They stand still, just like that, Jimin’s fingers playing with his hair until Yoongi tugs the boy closer to him and the small gap of space between them is closed when their lips gently meet in what would be known as the sweetest good morning kiss in Min Yoongi’s life.
He pulls Jimin into the apartment, their fingers laced together. Yoongi kicks Namjoon and Seokjin off their couch (save for Hoseok who gets to stay in his corner) and they settle down, limbs tangled together and Jimin’s arm thrown around Yoongi as Yoongi leans his head against Jimin’s chest, eyes fluttering lazily.
Seokjin would be groaning at getting thrown off the couch in any normal day but seeing as he’s still atoning for his sins, he scurries off to grab a chair, leaving only Namjoon on the floor who looks more distraught than ever now with the state of his hair. At the sight of him peering into a hand-held mirror, Yoongi and Jimin break off into a laugh.
--
They don’t see each other for the next two days, so when the third day after the incident rolls in and Yoongi’s waiting for Jimin in the coffee shop they frequent at, the last thing he expects is Jimin with red hair.
Jimin bounds into the café, a very tentative smile on his face as he sits down opposite of Yoongi.
Yoongi stares at him, a finger raised to point at Jimin’s hair which is now a shocking and vivid red.
“Couple hair,” Jimin says with a little shrug. “Now we match.”
Yoongi isn’t familiar with the intense flood of emotion that washes over him, or the tightening in his gut (he suspects the butterflies have gone crazy in his stomach), but he suspects this is what they might call adoration. (It’s definitely the “L” word, but we’ll have him get to that on his own soon.)
“Stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” Contrary to what he’s said, Jimin doesn’t look embarrassed at all, instead, he looks more confident and sure. He grabs Yoongi’s hand and gives it a playful tug before twining their fingers together. “Best boyfriend ever, or what?”
It’s hard to swallow, Yoongi realises, when you’re staring at an angel in human form, but he manages to. He doesn’t have words to describe exactly how he’s feeling, but Jimin just referred to himself as his boyfriend (they’re boyfriends, thank god it wasn’t just Yoongi thinking that) and the boy did dye his hair red so they match and – “Fuck,” Yoongi finally breathes. He doesn’t give Jimin time to chuckle; instead, he leans across the table and threads his fingers at the back of Jimin’s hair, giving it a little tug before he pulls him into a kiss, then and there, in the middle of a rather busy café.
Jimin kisses him back all giddy and excited and Yoongi swallows his laugh, lets out his own as Jimin knocks his forehead gently against Yoongi’s. “Good to know,”