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Namjoon and Yoongi are folding laundry on a Sunday afternoon. They’re in the main living space of the dorm placing folded clothes across the table and couch as needed. It’s surprisingly quiet, suspiciously so, but Namjoon isn’t going to question it. It’s the first time he and Yoongi have had a chance to catch up on some new ideas for future songs when they’re not sleep-deprived or jet-lagged, so he’s not about to tempt fate.
Yoongi’s in the middle of explaining how he’d like a certain beat to sound when Hoseok walks in.
“Wow, wow,” he says, in loud exaggerated English. “Look at that. Two civilized boys folding laundry. What a sight.”
Hoseok lets out a low whistle as he walks over to the couch, then gracefully collapses onto it. He tucks his feet up under himself and Namjoon gets distracted looking at his sock-clad ankles.
“Hob-ah,” Yoongi whines in that cute way of his. His shoulders raise as he tilts his head, his whine emphasized throughout the rest of his body. Cute hyung, Namjoon thinks, indulgently.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Who fights over laundry?” Hoseok demands, eyebrows raised, a mix of genuine curiosity, amusement, and fresh agitation all packed into one beautiful pout. Namjoon wants to kiss the indignation off his face and the thought makes him blush.
“You nearly made Jungkook cry!”
Yoongi winces at Namjoon before he makes his way over to the couch and lets himself drop down next to Hoseok. He makes a show of scoffing. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was,” Hoseok says, lifting an arm for Yoongi to curl a little closer into his side. “I thought you were going to kill each other… I thought I was going to have to kill you two to stop the madness.”
Yoongi’s face bunches up into a big smile, gums and teeth on display as he wheezes out a short laugh.
“To think, I could have been a single mother.” Hoseok sniffs, one hand wiping at an imaginary tear, the other draped delicately over his heart. “I wouldn’t have survived that, raising four boys alone.”
Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. He loses track of them for a moment as he concentrates on folding a shirt, trying his best to do it neatly, especially now that he has an audience. When he finishes, and the shirt has been placed on a stack, he looks over to the couch feeling far more pleased than he should be as a grown man folding his own laundry. He expects to find Hoseok and Yoongi continuing the act, playing it up—Hoseok’s commitment to a bit complementing Yoongi’s surge of energy from Hoseok’s attention.
Instead he finds their eyes on him, expressions similar but different. Yoongi’s smile is small and pleased. He’s comfortable along Hoseok’s side, their legs and hands overlapping in an almost mesmerizing way. Something hot simmers under Namjoon’s skin just from looking at them, his neck feels sweaty and his hands are clammy.
Yoongi blinks slowly, a pleased cat in his favorite spot, before he sighs and rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed. Hoseok makes a soft noise at the contact. Cute, always so cute. He hasn’t stopped watching Namjoon yet. He looks amused and content, and only a little embarrassed with Namjoon’s full attention on him. Namjoon thinks he’ll look away the longer Namjoon holds his gaze, but Hoseok’s eyes remain, warm and bright.
The three of them are still getting used to these moments—indulging in long glances and shared silences, acknowledging their importance—after spending so long pretending they weren’t even happening.
“Namjoon-ah, sit down,” comes Yoongi’s sleepy voice. Hoseok’s giggle is loud in the quiet, surprising even himself. Yoongi smiles with his eyes closed, and Namjoon ducks his head, long fingers coming up to contain his own laughter.
Hoseok pats the space on the couch next to him and Namjoon goes. Hoseok hums happily as he rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon lets his thigh press against Hoseok’s and Hoseok moves his hand so it touches Namjoon’s. He wishes he could be touching Yoongi, too, the only flaw in this current arrangement. But then Yoongi is snaking his hand under Hoseok’s arms, around his waist, until he’s touching Namjoon, too.
He almost wishes someone was here to take a picture of them, but Namjoon is feeling greedy, wants these two just to himself for a little while longer. Namjoon lets his eyes go fuzzy and unfocused, allows himself to take in the moment.
An R&B track plays on a speaker Jungkook abandoned weeks ago, quiet enough that he can’t make out the words. He can feel each of Hoseok’s breaths against his own rib cage, and the beat Yoongi couldn’t work out before is being tap-tap-tapped against his thigh. He’s warm and content. Happy.
“You would have had Seokjin.”
Namjoon wrinkles his nose with a soundless laugh and Hoseok raises his head. “Hn?”
“If Joon-ah and I had killed each other back then,” Yoongi continues. “You would have had Seokjin hyung.”
Hoseok scoffs and settles back down on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Please, boys need some kind of father figure at that age.”
Yoongi snorts loudly and Hoseok’s smile gets buried against Namjoon’s shoulder, but he can feel it. Namjoon carefully drapes his pinky over Hoseok’s and is rewarded with Hoseok properly linking them together. Namjoon smiles.
Of course it’s that moment the rest of their members begin to rumble through the dorm, and their moment together shifts and expands into something else. To his surprise, none of them move from the couch. If anything Yoongi and Hoseok make themselves more comfortable and something about that makes Namjoon feel lighter than air.
“Aw, hyungs look so cute together,” Taehyung croons as soon as he sees them. He immediately beelines for the couch before Jimin takes hold of his sweatshirt.
“Wait, Taehyungie, I need to get a picture. Let me just…”
Taehyung waits patiently as Jimin takes…maybe too many photos. The music is changed and made louder, Jungkook and Seokjin are bickering about some nonsense as they move deeper into the dorm.
And before he knows it, Taehyung is cuddling up along Namjoon’s side, and Jungkook has somehow returned, already leaning over the back of the couch to press his face into Hoseok’s neck.
It all dissolves from there. Hoseok wails and Yoongi grumbles. Jimin’s pretty laugh mixes with Seokjin’s high squeaky one, and suddenly there are too many limbs jabbing into too many places. Eventually, Namjoon’s own laughter spills out from somewhere deep inside himself.
When they settle, Namjoon manages to catch Jimin’s eye. “Can you send me that photo?”
Jimin gives him a knowing smile. “Sure, hyung.”