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“No. Guys. Please. This is a terrible idea,” Namjoon groaned. The way he flopped his head against the couch belied his words -- he knew he’d already lost. Next to him, Taehyung smirked silently at Jungkook on his other side, whose only sign of victory was a slight narrowing of his eyes.
The day’s schedule had been gruelling, though typical. They were all draped across the horizontal surfaces of the dorm’s living room. It was late, but everyone’s energy had run out far short of their bedrooms. And sensing a weakness in the herd, the maknaes had pounced with what was either their most clever or most dangerous scheme to date.
“Hyuuuuung,” Jimin whined from the floor, having obviously missed the defeat in their leader’s posture. “It’ll be hilarious! Come onnnnnn. The fans will eat it up. And we’re so BORED.” Seokjin patted the younger’s hair soothingly. Jimin calmed right away, curling back into Seokjin’s side. Seokjin rearranged them so their backs were against the couch below Namjoon, tucking the dancer’s head under his chin.
Yoongi watched from an armchair on the other side of the room, trying not to chuckle. Ever since he’d learned the term shipping, he’d watched his brothers with a different eye. None of them were gay -- though Namjoon had once drunkenly pontificated at length about his distaste for labels -- or interested in one another. But they were all a little... handsy.
Yoongi had to admit, after he’d gotten over the shock of his misguided Naver search, he couldn’t help but agree a smidge with the so-called Taekook shippers. The youngest two members were just plain ridiculous. But he still didn’t think Namjin added up. The leader and the hyung? They barely spent any time together on camera. What was ARMY thinking? Yoongi was closer to Seokjin than Namjoon was. He at least shared a room with the guy. Not that that meant anything...
“It’s just. It always gets out of control…” Namjoon protested weakly. Seokjin reached up and patted Namjoon’s leg. His hand lingered on the leader’s knee. Namjoon covered it with his own and squeezed it. Yoongi revised his calculations.
“What are you talking about, always? We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook said.
Namjoon sat up and glared at him, a little fervor returning to his argument. “Need I remind you of South America?” Namjoon asked. The others paused and blinked at him. Namjoon rolled his eyes as if they were stupid. “Jimin threw Hobi on a bed and nearly straddled him. In front of a live audience.”
“HEY!” Jimin squealed, vaulting to his feet. “That’s only because that one did it to me the night before.” Jimin’s accusatory finger was suddenly nipped at by a sleepy but sly Hoseok. Yoongi began to worry about his math skills. “Ew, hyung. Gross.” Jimin’s giggle undercut his words.
“What?” Hoseok shrugged. “It’s not like I pressed Seokjin against a wall or anything…” He casually craned his neck to fix Taehyung with a pointed look, but the younger was entirely unrepentant.
“Have you seen hyung’s face lately? I can’t believe the rest of you haven’t tried it yet.” Taehyung waggled his eyebrows at Hoseok. Seokjin grinned cheekily up at Taehyung, who blew him a kiss back. Yoongi regretted not taking better notes in trigonometry.
Jimin, happy to be out of the spotlight, perched on the arm of Yoongi’s armchair. Without thinking, Yoongi rested his hand on the small of Jimin’s back. Shit. He’d forgotten to add himself in as a variable. He didn’t move his hand though.
“Seriously, this is exactly what I mean,” Namjoon said, glaring at Taehyung. “This kind of thing doesn’t play as well in Korea as it does overseas. We could get into serious trouble if we’re not careful.” He looked like he had a seven-bullet-pointed list of further arguments, but he suddenly found himself koala-ed by Taehyung.
“We’re going to do it anyway, hyung,” the younger murmured in his ear, nosing along his neck. Namjoon shivered from breath ghosting across his ear. Yoongi vowed to give up on mathematics and stick to the arts where he belonged. “Might as well keep score,” Taehyung whispered. Namjoon sighed, and the rest of the boys knew the argument was officially over.
“So, how exactly do we keep score?” Yoongi found himself asking. “I mean, is this an individual sport or are we pairing off?”
“Individual. If we pair off, someone gets left out,” Seokjin responded.
“Joonie doesn’t seem to want to play anyway…” Hoseok said. His pout was overwrought even in his exhaustion.
“I... never said that,” the leader mumbled. The maknaes giggled, and Taehyung poked him teasingly in the ribs. Namjoon wriggled away, finally unseating Seokjin’s hand from his thigh. “Let’s go with individual scoring.”
“Okay, but. Again, how do we earn points?” Yoongi asked. When did he get so invested in this? Seokjin put his hand back on Namjoon’s knee, and Yoongi smirked. Oh. Right.
Jimin snickered. “Well, we could always go off of how often Sejin scolds us…” The others chuckled, but Taehyung was already shaking his head.
“Nah, I think he’s too used to us by now. I mean, when was the last time he got on you for stuff like that? I grabbed your ass on the way into Weekly Idol the other day. In front of him and a thousand cameras. He just laughed.”
“Huh,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. “You’re right. I think we broke him…”
“How about fancafe comments and tweets?” Hoseok offered.
“I don’t know, we get thousands of tweets a day. And most of them are in languages we don’t read,” Jungkook replied.
“Speak for yourself,” Namjoon mumbled. The maknae glared at him, sulking into the corner of the couch. Taehyung instantly extracted himself from their leader to coo over Jungkook. Namjoon watched them for a second. He sighed in defeat again, and every eye turned toward him. “I’ll translate as much as I can. We only count what we can translate. One point per comment. Scoring for the... incident ends 12 hours after the first comment. The one with the most points at the end of the week wins. And then we end it, okay? Just one week--”
“What does the winner get?” Yoongi asked, waving away Namjoon’s last words. The others seemed to dismiss them just as easily, although Yoongi didn’t miss the way Seokjin rubbed tiny soothing circles into Namjoon’s knee with his thumb. “What are we competing for and if any of you bastards say bragging rights I will end you.”
“No chores for a month?” Jungkook suggested.
“The others cook the winner dinner,” Seokjin countered. “A really fancy dinner. And they do the dishes. Without complaining.”
“Carte blanche for snuggles for a week,” Taehyung piped in. The others groaned and smacked at him.
“Like you don’t always have that,” Hoseok answered, looking meaningfully between the tangle of legs and arms that made up the youngest two members of the group. Taehyung pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded happily.
Namjoon cleared his throat. “Winner gets one free pass out of rehearsals with guaranteed back-up from all the members, no questions asked. To be redeemed at a time of the winner’s choice,” Namjoon said. “The managers cannot know. Ever.”
Each pair of eyes lit up briefly with dreams of a free afternoon alone. “Done,” Yoongi said firmly. The rest nodded.
“I should never have agreed to this,” Namjoon groaned. “This is terrible.”
“Why, what are they saying?” Jungkook asked, crowding close to the computer monitor. They were all crammed into the production studio, vying for space over Namjoon’s shoulder as he tallied the first day’s score.
“It’s not what they’re saying, although some of this is a whole new level of heinous,” Namjoon said, scrolling furtively while eyeing the maknae. Yoongi thought it really didn’t matter since the kid barely knew any English, but a few of the more vulgar tweets caught his eye and, yeah, okay, maybe even Jungkook could pick out those words. “It’s this stupid scoring system. It defies complexity and that somehow makes it more complicated.”
“What’s so complicated? One point each, per comment,” Hoseok said.
“Okay, sure, that’s fine for these ones that just say awwww boyfriends ,” Namjoon said, pointing at one. Hoseok wrinkled his nose in distaste and mouthed the word boyfriends while appraising the members. Yoongi wondered what exactly Hoseok thought they were doing with this project. “But what about this one? Look at poor Jimin pining over Jungkook. When will the maknae turn around and love him back? ”
Jungkook furrowed his brow at the screen, then turned to Jimin, who was giving him a very pointed look.
“Yeah, Jungkookie, when?” Jimin asked. Jungkook tilted his head like a confused puppy.
“Um, guys, I think you’re missing the point here…” Namjoon said. “How do we score that one?”
“Obviously, I get that one,” Jimin said just as Seokjin and Taehyung said Jimin’s name as their vote.
“But I’m mentioned, too!” Jungkook protested, pointing vehemently at the screen.
“Yeah, you’re mentioned as not participating in the ship,” Yoongi retorted. Every eye landed in his face.
“Who said anything about boats?” Taehyung asked, confused.
“And since when do you toss English words into your vocabulary?” Seokjin added. “I mean, other than swear words.” Yoongi shifted uncomfortably.
“Whatever. It’s Jimin’s point,” Yoongi said. He glanced at the screen. “You know we never even established what makes the comment worthy of scoring. So many of these just tell us they love us or ask us to tweet back at them. And then there’s the ones that don’t even make sense. I mean, what’s a suh-nuh-glay boo-ni-ahs .”
“It’s snuggle bunnies, and you and Jimin are both getting a point for that one,” Namjoon said wearily. Yoongi scrunched his eyebrows and frowned at him. “It’s because he tweeted that photo of you asleep next to him backstage this morning.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean for that to be part of this.” Jimin frowned thoughtfully. “I just know ARMY likes to see us resting.”
Finally, Namjoon made it through all of the tweets and the fan cafe comments. After the volume of messages encountered on those sites alone, they decided not to incorporate any others. Namjoon had mentioned hearing about an American one called tumblr, but Yoongi was quick to wave him off with a repressed shudder. That was an hour of his life he was never getting back, and he'd rather spare his brothers from the itchy feeling of needing to bleach their brains. He was certain they were never meant to see those things.
Namjoon stood and began writing numbers on the white board next to his desk. “I'm putting the totals in the group chat, too, so nobody can cheat by changing the numbers on the board.” Namjoon leveled Taehyung with a look, who didn't even have the grace to look offended. “First day winner is Tae, followed closely by Kookie.”
“Man, I've really got to step up my game,” Seokjin muttered, eyeing his score.
“I'll help you, hyung,” Jungkook said sweetly. “Film an Eat Jin tomorrow and feed me like a baby bird. ARMY can't get enough of that.”
“That was too far, you guys,” Namjoon whispered fiercely as soon as they reached the relative privacy of their dressing room. “Rein it in a little.”
Taehyung blinked at him innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Namjoon whipped around and pointed at him, although his authority was undercut by his necklace flying up and hitting him in the face and the force of his pointing blunted by the new, unwieldy cast on his hand. He growled and wrestled with the chain and the cast for a moment before turning it all into a fruitless tangle. He looked a little like a sad t-rex with his hand trapped near his shoulder and his lip curled in a snarl. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. That wasn’t a little pinch on Jungkook’s butt. It was practically a medical exam!”
Seokjin snickered from across the room. Namjoon rounded on him, but the eldest held his hands up in supplication. He’d already gotten a lecture yesterday for his own part in the Jungkook Butt Grabbing Parade. Although they’d raked in a ton of points from that award show red carpet footage, so Yoongi didn’t think he looked that guilty.
“I can’t help it if my ass looks this good in leather pants,” Jungkook said, though he managed to stay a safe distance away behind Yoongi’s shoulders. “Take it up with the coordis if you don’t like it.” Yoongi chuckled while the kid ducked behind him to avoid Namjoon’s glower.
Jimin walked over to Namjoon and gently untangled the leader’s cast from his necklace. “How are you feeling?” he asked soothingly. “Do you need more pain pills?”
“Nah, I’m fine, Chim,” he replied. “Oh, hey. Thanks for tying my shoe on stage. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do right there.”
Jimin mumbled a pleased but dismissive reply, handing Namjoon a water bottle and two pills anyway. Yoongi knew there was no fighting back against Jimin’s care-taker instincts, and Namjoon seemed to get the message, too, because he swallowed the medication dutifully.
“The fans don’t think it was nothing,” Hoseok said, holding up his phone. “Although they seem to be getting your name wrong. It’s NAMjoon, people, not MINjoon.” Yoongi hid a smile behind his hand.
“What, that?” Jimin asked, scurrying over and snatching the device out of Hoseok’s hand. “I was just helping.”
“Yeah, helping yourself to a bunch of points,” Taehyung said from over his shoulder, peering down at the screen. “They’re really eating it up. And they like that you picked up Yoongi’s water bottle a bit later. Wait, some of them are talking about us!”
“Really?” Jimin asked. “My English isn’t good enough for this. Monnie, help?”
Namjoon heaved a weary sigh and took the phone, while still sipping his water bottle. He gasped and choked, sputtering curses. Yoongi nonchalantly hit him hard on the back to dislodge the water -- this happened too often for anyone to panic anymore. Namjoon took a shuddering breath and stared at the 95 line.
“What the hell did you two do?” Namjoon rasped.
Yoongi furrowed his brow and took the phone. His English had improved a little with his midnight forays into fandomland, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of the comments at first. Until he clicked on a video.
“There is no way the managers approved you to post this,” Yoongi said mildly, watching as Jimin and Taehyung cavorted on his screen, a leather belt securely around Taehyung’s neck like a leash. “You’re going to be in so much trouble, you kinky bastards.”
“Sangyeon said it was fine,” Taehyung retorted. Yoongi looked at him in surprise. Jimin giggled.
“It might have been 3 in the morning and he might have been half-asleep at the time and just wanted us to go away,” Jimin said. “But he did technically say okay.”
“Oh my god, you guys, we have to stop this,” Namjoon said with a groan.
“Or maybe you just need to step up your game,” Yoongi said. Namjoon gaped at him. “Who’s been trailing the pack on the leader-board all week, Joon? Maybe you’re just a little jealous…”
“Whatever,” Namjoon mumbled as he walked away. “It’s not important.” But not five minutes later, he was gathering them all for a group photo and just happened to organize himself out of a seat and just happened to have to sit on Jimin’s lap and just happened to make those stupid-ass bedroom eyes. Yoongi was sure it was all a coincidence.
“Okay, Day 6 totals are ready,” Namjoon said, spinning in his desk chair and rubbing his dry eyes.
“That reminds me, I need to call Jae,” Taehyung mused quietly from the studio couch. The others glanced at him. “Park Jaehyung from Day6? I met him at an awards show a few weeks ago. God, I make so many good friends in the men’s room…”
“See, this is exactly why the fans shi--I mean, pair you with everyone, Taetae,” Yoongi muttered. “Congratulations, you’re so... pervy.” Taehyung gawped at him, but Namjoon cleared his throat before he could interject.
“Have we finally lost enough interest in this experiment that you don’t care about the totals?” Namjoon asked hopefully.
“Not a chance,” Hoseok said, leaning forward from his rolling chair to see the screen. Namjoon sighed and stood, adding the day’s numbers to the whiteboard across the room, then totaling it all up. “Ughhhhh, I really thought I’d pull ahead this time,” Hoseok whined. “I mean, I literally kissed Jimin’s cheek in a selca. How is that not getting more attention?”
“Oh, it got plenty,” Namjoon said, pulling a disgusted face. “But my selca with Tae and Jungkook’s back hugs on Yoongi during the game part of the show kind of... made it all a wash.”
“Yeah, that selca was completely unnecessary, Joon,” Seokjin said. The eldest wrinkled his nose. “You two looked like American porn stars from the 1970s.”
“How do you even know what that looks like?” Namjoon countered. Seokjin’s mouth worked for a moment but no sound came out. Yoongi noticed the light pink dusting on the eldest’s cheeks and made a mental note to never check his roommate’s internet search history. “Anyway, it got us plenty of points, and since I can’t get the rest of you to calm the hell down, I might as well try to get that free day off.”
“Hobi, you kind of lost your chance with the tension escalator. You could have gotten a lot of points for that,” Taehyung said. There was no judgement in his tone. In fact, Yoongi was pretty sure it was the exact same voice and expression he used when they talked about how to improve their dance performances. “You made it silly when you could have gone for the kill.”
“I... uhhh, I couldn’t help it,” Hoseok said, giggling. “Jiminie’s smile was just too cute.” Yoongi grimaced internally -- he knew exactly what Hoseok was talking about. Jimin was too adorable for his own good sometimes. For any of their good.
“Wait, how is Jimin in second place?” Jungkook asked, noticing his own name had slipped to number three for the first time all week. He and Taehyung had been vying for the top spot from the beginning. “He didn’t even do anything today other than the tension escalator.”
“Yeah, kid, what’s up? You were one of the most vocal supporters of this plan,” Yoongi said.
“I was just too tired,” Jimin said, shrugging. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
That was the understatement of the year. Sleep was in short supply for all of them lately, but Yoongi knew that Jimin had practiced in the dance studio until dawn. Yoongi thought he was probably dieting again, too, judging by the pallor of his skin. He bit his tongue and started planning the inevitable intervention.
Jungkook looked at Jimin with some concern, but his competitive side took over his compassion. “That’s what I mean,” he said. “How did he jump so far up the list?”
“Ummm…” Namjoon returned to his computer and switched to a full spreadsheet. Yoongi opened his mouth to mock, but the target felt too easy. “Let’s see. Hobi’s selca, the tension escalator with both Hobi and Tae. And apparently he went the wrong way off the stage and Yoongi pulled him back -- for some reason the fans loved that.” Yoongi peered over Namjoon’s shoulder as he scrolled and marveled at the complexity of the data management system. “Then, um, what else? Oh, when Jin told the MC that Chim’s the one he goes to whenever he’s feeling stressed.”
“Yeah, about that...” Yoongi said, turning toward the eldest. “Did you really have to tell them about my bear pajamas? Hyung, you promised--”
“Sorry, it just sort of slipped out,” Seokjin said sheepishly.
“Actually, Kookie, you contributed a lot to Jiminie’s score,” Namjoon said. He had turned back to his computer scrolling through the fan messages quickly.
“How?” Jungkook said. “I barely talked to him all day.” He glanced over at Jimin. “Sorry, hyung, it’s just how it worked out. I promise I wasn’t... avoiding you or anything.” Jimin waved a dismissive hand.
“It was when he was doing his part of the ment. You were staring at him really hard and then he smiled at you. The fans have whole theories about that moment.”
“Theories? Jungkook squeaked.
“Yeah,” Namjoon said. “Apparently, they think you might actually secretly love him back like they all hoped.” Jimin turned to Jungkook and fluttered his eyelashes in the maknae’s stunned face.
“But--” Jungkook sputtered. “I was just being respectful. Hyung was talking…”
Namjoon shrugged. “I don’t make the rules,” he said. He paused and furrowed his brow. “Well, I did kind of make the rules for this game. I’m just saying I don’t write this shit. This was all your idea anyway. Don’t come crying to me if it suddenly squicks you out.”
“It doesn’t squick me out,” Jungkook said seriously. “It confuses me.”
“Well, human emotions tend to do that to robots.” Taehyung playfully poked Jungkook’s ribs, who huffed indignantly for a fraction of a second before he dissolved into wriggling laughter.
“If anyone is a robot here, it’s Yoongi,” Jungkook gasped out.
“Hey!” Yoongi growled. “Just for that, I’m focusing only on you tomorrow. Just watch how many points I get. I might even keep them all for myself.” Jungkook stuck his tongue out, but he and Yoongi both knew Yoongi had the skills to make it happen if he wanted to.
“Are you really writing Jimin a song, hyung?” Namjoon asked as Yoongi sank into the chair next to him. He was busy tallying the scores of their final day, and Yoongi could tell he was relieved it was going to be over soon. The poor kid put too much pressure on himself to keep them all in line, but they all knew which boundaries were unbreakable. Not to mention the effort it took to maintain his massive spreadsheet. “You don’t usually give away your songs.”
“Yeah, actually. I’ve been working on a new thing for a while, but I hadn’t thought about it for him until recently.” Yoongi lifted his shoulders. “But today on the radio show, he just seemed to need some encouragement.” He unconsciously lowered his voice. “He’s over-doing it again…”
“I know.” Namjoon sighed. “I had a talk with him this morning when he skipped breakfast.” He clicked through some messages and made a few entries in his spreadsheet. “The fans love that you’re giving him the song, by the way. Lots of comments for both of you. Actually, a few more for him because he was so pleased.”
“Good,” Yoongi said gruffly. He hadn’t done it for the points. He was glad he could cheer up his dongsaeng.
The door opened and the sound from the dance studio crashed into the room. The others were finishing up dance practice and playing around -- their teacher had released them twenty minutes ago but that rarely called a complete halt to their efforts. Seokjin tumbled in, flopping onto the floor with a weary, sweaty sigh.
“There’s a couch here, hyung,” Yoongi said.
“Nah, I’m gross and the leather is too hot,” Seokjin panted. The other two left him to his choice. Namjoon scrolled the wheel on his mouse, then chuckled deeply. Seokjin didn't even lift his head when he said, “What now?”
“Jungkook’s going to hate this,” Namjoon whispered gleefully. “The cover he dropped last night has been getting a lot of comments.”
“Why’s that bad?” Seokjin asked. “He’ll be thrilled.”
“Because nearly half of them are cooing over how sweet it is for him to have covered Jimin’s favorite song,” Namjoon said, nearly chortling. Yoongi furrowed his brow. When did Jimin’s favorite song switch to that one?
“Oh, god.” Soekjin grinned. “It’s not his favorite, but he did say something at the fansign today about loving that song and showing it to Kook. I think it was because of the modern dance in the MV. Are they making it all, what’s the word, Yoongi? Shippy ?”
Yoongi gaped at him. How in the world--
“You borrowed my computer the other day, remember?” Seokjin reminded softly. If Yoongi were four months older and the hyung in this group, he would have knocked that shit-eating grin right off of Seokjin’s face. Instead, he swallowed hard and feigned nonchalance. Seokjin wisely changed the subject. “By the way, have you guys noticed Jimin’s a little--”
“Yeah, we were just talking about it,” Namjoon said absently, eyeing the two of them with obvious confusion over their small exchange. Finally, he rolled his eyes and continued. “I think it’ll sort itself out in a few days. He’s feeling a little insecure lately, but I think we’ve done a decent job reminding him of reality. Is that why you were all over him at the fansign?”
“Yeah, sometimes he needs to be babied,” Seokjin replied. “Wait, you noticed that? You were at the other end of the table…”
“The fans noticed that,” Namjoon said, pointing at his screen. “So much... Jinmin is what they’re calling you two, which is actually kind of clever.”
“I forgot all about the game for most of the day,” Seokjin said. He stretched a little and grunted out a whiney breath. “I’ll be glad when it’s over. It’s a lot of work toeing the line. And the fans seem to latch onto things we don’t even intend to be taken that way. Most of what they like is just us being... brothers.”
The other two nodded in agreement, then fell into companionable silence while Namjoon continued translating and tallying.
“Hoseok and Taehyung must have noticed, too,” Namjoon mused. “There are about seven quotes on here of them telling Jimin he’s handsome and giving him other compliments.”
“Yeah, in between making kissy faces at each other,” Yoongi said, his eyes closed and head tipped back. He was pretty sure he couldn’t actually get a nap in before the others descended on the room, but he could at least rest. “I thought Tae was going to kill him when he brought up that kiss from Rookie King again.”
“Oh, god, why did we ever let that happen?” Seokjin asked. He rubbed his eyes. “It’s going to follow them forever. With that and how much the two of them love skinship, I’m surprised the fans don’t say more.”
“The fans say plenty,” Namjoon muttered. “I’m just the only one who gets to see it. Somedays, I deeply regret learning English.”
The door opened and the other boys swarmed in, the smell of sweat and the noise increasing ten-fold, though they were all used to it by now. Yoongi mumbled gruffly, but he didn’t really mean it. The four dancers fell onto the couch.
“So what’s the damage?” Jungkook asked.
“Hang on, I’m almost done,” Namjoon said wearily. “You guys owe me so much for this, you don't even know.”
Everyone made gestures and noises to brush him off, but Yoongi knew he'd worked hard for their stupid little prank and deserved their thanks. They just wouldn’t give it to him now. They never did with this kind of thing. It would come out in obscure and hopefully more meaningful ways later down the road. Probably. Though he did wonder if Namjoon wouldn’t miss his spreadsheet just a little bit.
“These numbers don’t make sense to me,” Jungkook mused, craning his neck up the wall to eye the whiteboard. “Tae, did you mess with them?”
“Did I mess with-- Jungkookie, I am offended,” Taehyung began. Everyone rolled their eyes at him. He huffed and sank lower into his seat. “I did not. Namjoon-hyung’s system of putting them in Kakao was fool proof.”
Yoongi thought he heard Taehyung mutter profanity involving Namjoon’s mother’s virtue, but he couldn’t be sure because Namjoon took that moment to turn around and accidentally knock a container of pens off his desk. The resulting clatter saved Taehyung from what Yoongi assumed would have been a major ass beating.
“Mr. Jung,” Namjoon began rather formally, ignoring the pens. Seokjin sighed lightly and began to gather them up -- he was already on the floor anyway, might as well be useful. “I want to congratulate you on what has to be the most random thing to earn points this week.”
“Oh?” Hoseok asked eagerly. “What for?”
“Someone believed that a line in your new mix track was a nod to a... Bangtan orgy,” Namjoon said, pressing his lips tightly together to avoid laughter. Everyone in the room stared open-mouthed. “It sparked a short-lived but lively debate on Twitter. Names were called, gifs were attached, receipts were demanded.” He was enjoying this far too much, but no one was paying him much attention as they ran through Hoseok's lyrics in their heads.
“....how?” Yoongi asked. He was the King of the Triple Entendre and even he couldn’t think of anything that could be taken like that.
“Apparently your line Rising up with the efforts of my brothers--”
“Oh. No. Stop there,” Taehyung said, raising his hands in front of him to ward off the words. He looked at the other members and grimaced. “Just. No.”
“Please,” Seokjin said faintly from the floor. “Kookie’s going to burst into flame if you say anything else.”
“Hey,” Jungkook growled. “I’m not some naive kid anymore, hyung. You don’t need to baby me.” Yoongi thought he would be a whole lot more convincing if his face wasn’t beet red and he wasn’t squirming to hide behind Taehyung on the couch.
“ARMY is...” Hoseok said slowly. “God, they’re hilarious. I don’t get it at all, but that’s ridiculous and kind of amazing.”
“To be honest, I don’t actually understand what happened this week,” Seokjin commented. “I mean, I was like Super Skinship Man all week and I’m dead last. I hardly got any points for my puppy aegyo to Taehyung when he was deciding who would get to eat with him after the challenge. That shit was adorable.”
“Actually,” Namjoon said, facing his computer again and adding a formula to calculate something that was beyond Yoongi’s comprehension. “You got a lot of comments for that, but you got hosed by the 12-Hour Rule.” Seokjin pouted. “The fans didn’t see it right away because of someone grabbing Jungkookie’s crotch on stage at the awards show.”
“Accidentally,” Jimin said, his voice muffled by his hands over his face. Namjoon stood with a careless lift of his shoulders and started writing on the whiteboard. “Accidentally grabbed his crotch. And I would willingly forfeit all the points I earned if I could go back in time and move my hand ten centimeters to the left.”
“Well, it wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Namjoon said as he finished his math. “Because I’m pretty sure you just won by a margin much larger than that handful of points.”
“WHAT?”
Yoongi couldn’t be sure who all said the word, but Jimin was definitely the most shocked of them all.
“How?” Jimin asked. “I wasn’t even playing half the time.”
“Well, from what I can gather,” Namjoon said, leaning against the wall and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Yoongi braced himself for some kind of meandering speech and was delighted with the universe pre-emptively humbling the philosopher when his hands somehow left dry-erase marker stains all over Namjoon’s face. No one said a word. “There is not a single one of us that ARMY doesn’t love to pair you with, though they inexplicably love you with Yoongi the best.”
Jimin glanced over at Yoongi curiously. Yoongi’s gut twisted ever-so-slightly, remembering some stunningly beautiful fanart he had stumbled across and vowed never to think of again. He didn’t really need the image of Jimin in that position floating around his head while they stretched for dance practice. He loved Jimin, just not like that. But if he were forced to give an answer about his favorite dongsaeng... well, he’d keep his mouth shut like the wise man he was.
“They’re very charmed by how you seem to take care of all of us. And well, we apparently... what was the word?” Namjoon continued, lips pursed. “Oh, right, they think we all dote on you a lot.”
“That’s just because we have a maknae who won’t let us baby him,” Jimin said, ruffling Jungkook’s hair. The youngest immediately scoffed and fixed his stray locks. “That energy has to be spent somewhere and I don’t scowl at you as much as he does.”
“So, what are you going to do with your free day off?” Taehyung asked, his whole face lighting up. “Sneak off to eat junk food the managers won’t buy us?”
“Stay in bed all day, kid,” Yoongi recommended. “The only reasonable use of that much time is to sleep.”
“He could watch all the kdramas we’ve been missing out on...” Seokjin offered.
Jimin stood and smirked at them with a secretive glint in his eye. “We said no questions asked.” And then he walked out of the room without looking back. Yoongi watched him go with a strange sense of pride. He’d definitely picked the right one.