Chapter Text
When Hoseok had moved in across the hall from apartment 47, he had kept mostly to himself.
He'd carried almost all of his boxes up himself, a few at a time, balanced in careful stacks and trying to think of the whole living on his own thing as an adventure.
Yoongi had snorted when asked to help and waved him off, mumbling that he'd come to the housewarming party and would fix the leaky faucet if asked nicely.
Namjoon had helped a little, meaning well, but had needed to leave about a half hour into the process to tutor some poor sap in Korean, or had it been Japanese this time? And then after that he had an appointment to consult with his tattoo artist about a vague 'something new' that had him very excited. It was probably for the best, really. Hoseok wasn't sure he trusted his friend with the majority of his boxes anyway.
Dawon had brought him flowers and hung up a few of his pictures so that they weren't just thrown up willy-nilly, but had complained for every moment she was asked to carry anything heavier than the throw pillows she'd insisted he get.
Seokjin had sent a fruit basket.
Hoseok'd smiled at the older woman going to the fifth floor in the elevator when he was carrying up a lamp, but that was it, really. He hadn't seen anyone else. He had heard a few others — a couple arguing as the elevator dinged past the second floor, a television on in apartment 41, but that was it.
So, really, it was understandable that he'd jumped nearly out of his skin when he'd heard several loud and ominous sounding thumps resounding through the building just after eleven that first night, followed shortly by the sound of something cracking. He'd pressed a hand to his heart and looked around wildly for a moment, trying to remember if he'd locked the door after carrying in the last of his boxes, but a little too stressed out to go and check. (He probably had anyway, he always did — even when he'd lived with Namjoon who was always forgetting his keys and begging Hoseok to leave it unlocked, just this once. Nope.)
And it was just as understandable that when, a few minutes later, someone had knocked erratically at his door that he had squeaked (just slightly, quietly — it was a manly sound, definitely) and scrambled to grab the nearest heavy thing to him (one of Namjoon's bequeathed self-help books about some kind of self-insight or other, gripped tightly by one corner) before peering through the peephole.
"Can — can I help you?" he asked, squinting at the figure on the other side. He couldn't see much through the fisheye in the door, just a bit of orange hair, black and white stripes, and a glint of teeth as whoever it was smiled reassuringly at someone Hoseok couldn't see. The person moved back a little, bit down on their plush lower lip in an appeasing smile, pushed their hair off their forehead in a practiced motion, and squinted towards the peephole.
"Hey, er, hi. I'm Park Jimin. I live across the hall," his voice was soft and oddly melodious and he gestured behind himself, not really in the direction of the door, but Hoseok didn't add that to the list of things he was holding against Jimin. "I was, well, we were, wondering if you had a first aid kit?"
"A first aid kit?" Hoseok repeated back, grip on his book loosening ever so slightly.
"Yeah," Jimin tilted his head a little, shifted from one foot to the other. When Hoseok didn't open the door, he elaborated, voice squeaking just a bit higher, nervous. "This is — my roommates were being ridiculous and the one fell and hurt himself on the coffee table." Hoseok felt himself calm down a little, forced himself to take a deep breath. Orient himself a little before he opened the door — Jimin couldn't see him, though, and continued on. "Look, if you don't have one or don't want to lend us it or whatever, could you just say so so we can go down to the first floor and see if Mrs. Wang or her son are home to borrow theirs?"
There was panic in his voice, just a little, hidden under something like annoyance and something like trying to be polite.
Hoseok undid the lock he'd had installed a couple days ago. Opened the door.
"Sorry, I'm —" Hoseok cut himself off as he really got a look at Jimin. Eyes a little wide with panic, with forced politeness. Hands clasped tightly together and white at the knuckle. Chewing on his lower lip. A fleck of blood on his cheek from whatever this accident had been.
Hoseok swallowed hard.
The boy was beautiful — all full cheeks and plush lips and casual masculinity. Beautiful and a little younger than him and desperately trying not to look scared — for either himself or whomever was in the hallway, to look as though he had everything under control and would sort this all out.
Hoseok turned immediately around, gestured for Jimin to follow him, his own apprehension of the situation tamped spectacularly down by that expression on Jimin's face — he would find time to be nervous for himself later, drown the experience in a box of chocolate and a Lifetime movie or something, but definitely later. "I think my first aid kit is in one of the boxes for my bathroom," he called behind him. "But there's also a chance that it got packed in the kitchen stuff because Namjoon burned his finger the other day trying to make me grilled cheese."
He didn't bother clarifying who Namjoon was — that wasn't important probably, not right now.
It took him a moment to dig around, but there was his first aid kit, stocked because it needed to be with any regular proximity to Namjoon, and buried beneath a stack of towels in one of the boxes he'd dropped in the bathroom and then completely forgotten about. He rounded back into the kitchen, spotted Jimin who was crouched beside one of the boxes there, and thrust it into his chest.
"Go help your friend," Hoseok said with a nod and an offered hand to help Jimin up, but when he stood the boy just looked dazed. Hoseok knew that look. Yoongi had broken his wrist one summer and had been cracking jokes and muttering insults the whole way to the hospital, but once they'd gotten there and been placed in the waiting room for an indeterminate amount of time, he'd grown quiet and clammy and overwhelmed by the whole thing. And now, whatever was in that apartment had caught up with Jimin while he'd been helping to look for the first aid kit. He'd slowed down just enough that the whole thing had washed over him and it had left him to drown.
Hoseok's eyes flicked over to the the little fleck of blood on his cheekbone.
He didn't know this boy. He didn't know any of them — hell, he was only pretty sure there were three of them, who knew, he could go over there and find another half dozen tucked away or something, getting ice for whichever boy had fallen, doing homework on various laptops, playing cards with each other.
Hoseok shook his head — to try and stop thinking of the improbable clown car level of packed apartment he was about to walk into or some other reason, who could say — took a deep breath. Hoped for a quick moment that Jimin just scared easily and that he wasn't getting himself in deeper than he could handle.
Hoseok had dealt with injuries before. This would be nothing, something simple probably even.
"Here, let me come with you," Hoseok found himself saying, guiding Jimin out of his kitchen and through the hallway.
Another boy was in the hallway, looking young and just as beautiful as Jimin and a little green. In the glance Hoseok spared him as he led Jimin across the hallway, he saw him duck his head a little and cover his face with a large, tanned hand, bangs falling over his forehead. And if he'd had a moment, he would have probably tried to do something about him, as well, be it rub soothingly at his shoulders or maybe tell him that it wasn't his fault (but how could Hoseok know that, really).
As it was — Hoseok could really only deal with one problem at a time. Right now, he was going to finish going across the hallway, patch the other roommate up with his extensive previous experience in applying equal parts gauze and pressure to about every limb on Namjoon's body. Then, maybe, he could come and try and help the boy in the hallway.
If he wanted to he reminded himself. Because he didn't know these boys, there was no obligation, he just — he liked helping people, he liked making people feel better, and plus, it wouldn't have been very neighborly if he had just shooed Jimin to the first floor and whoever Mrs. Wang was.
And then he was in Jimin's apartment, pressing past the entry way and into the main living space. He saw, immediately, another boy who was maybe a year or so younger than the pair who had been in the hallway. So just one other boy, then Hoseok's brain supplied unhelpfully at no sign of Hoseok's half dozen imagined roommates for Jimin.
Hoseok noticed two things about the boy, one right after the other in startling and slightly jarring succession.
The first was that, like Jimin and the boy in the hallway, he was absolutely beautiful.
Hoseok wondered absently if there was something in the water and that maybe, eventually, he might one day be anywhere close to as beautiful as they were — the strong jaw and the doe eyes and the straight nose — it was too much all on one face for sheer chance. Or maybe it had been in their listing for a roommate — "Looking for roommates, reasonable rent, nonsmoking, must be at least beautiful enough to have had one person seriously wonder if you were carved from marble." The smile he flashed in greeting to Jimin showed slightly prominent front teeth and Hoseok had to keep himself from gasping aloud.
Then, Hoseok looked down as they entered fully into the room, and he noticed the second thing, which was that the boy had blood caked in a disconcerting amount down one of his calves and was sat just on the edge of the couch because several pieces of what once had probably been a coffee table were stuck into his leg.
A very large part of Hoseok wanted to turn right around and go curl up with the boy in the hallway. A small but vocal part of Hoseok was reminding him of the time that his sister had been injured ice skating and he had passed out from looking at the blood in too much detail.
He flicked his eyes back up to the boy's face and swallowed hard.
"Jungkookie," Jimin was saying, less dazed now that he was back in front of the situation. He grabbed the first aid kit from Hoseok's hands, his small, ring adorned fingers folding delicately around the handle, moved over to crouch at the other boy's side. "I found a first aid kit — we can get you all patched up. Also, meet our new neighbor —"
There was a pause. It took a moment, but then Hoseok realized that they were waiting for his name, something to call him by. He cleared his throat. "Jung Hoseok."
Jimin beamed at him, smile bright and just a bit shaky.
"Nice to meet you," Jungkook said, voice a little shy. Hoseok looked at his face again — young, a little shy, but not — not in pain or scared or anything, not really. Maybe he was better at hiding it than Jimin.
Jimin had pulled a few things from the first aid kit — antiseptic wipes, large pieces of gauze — but now that the had the things to treat the wound, he'd seemed to have forgotten what to do with his hands. They fluttered between the first aid kit and Jungkook's leg, touching nothing, trembling just slightly when they paused in their flight.
"Look, I can just —" Jungkook said, reaching for one of the bits of wood (it was probably a specific one, but Hoseok was determinedly not looking), but Jimin swatted at his hand.
"Don't," he said firmly and then directed his gaze back down to the first aid kit in front of him.
Hoseok took a few steps closer, crouched a little to the side of Jimin, did everything in his power not to make eye contact with Jungkook's leg. "Have you done anything like this before?" Hoseok asked him softly.
Jungkook sighed and started to say something about it not being a big deal. Both of them ignored him.
Jimin's gaze flicked up to meet his. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, full mouth turning down in a grim little pout. "One time," he started, voice shaking just a little bit, "TaeTae, he got bit by a dog and I cleaned that out, but that wasn't ... there wasn't ..." He gestured uselessly to Jungkook's leg.
It hadn't looked like that the gesture said. Nothing looked like that.
"Right," Hoseok said, raising. "Hospital." Jimin looked alarmed, but Hoseok quieted him with a wave of his hand and continued, "I have a car and neither of us know what we're doing and with — we don't want to make it worse, right?"
"Right," Jimin repeated weakly. He took a breath and then yelled, "TaeTae, come help with Jungkookie!"
There was some shuffling. The boy from the hallway came back in, still looking sort of green, but startlingly tall now that he'd unfolded himself from the ball he'd been curled into. Jungkook made uncomfortable gasping and wincing noises as they folded him into the crappy car Hoseok had had since high school.
The drive to the hospital was quiet mostly, a little uncomfortable, though 'TaeTae' tried to crack jokes — tried really being the operative word, as they were mostly odd little snippets, parts of jokes and weak giggling, some of them just punchlines for jokes Hoseok had never heard before.
Hoseok was reminded again in a jolt that he didn't know them, didn't know anything about them really, and here they were, all tucked in together and nervous in his 2003 Pontiac Sunfire with a dent on the front hood and paint just starting to slough off.
The waiting room was better, Hoseok considered once they got there — because at least there were people around to distract from — from whatever it was he'd stumbled into. Jimin handled the forms, hands trembling only slightly as he filled out Jungkook's information without needing to consult the other at all; 'TaeTae' had wandered off somewhere, but neither of the others had seemed concerned or surprised so Hoseok didn't question it; and Hoseok was left for a moment with Jungkook.
His face had started to go pale and a little clammy in the waiting room and he seemed almost as though he were growing younger by the moment, eyes wide in his face Hoseok wondered absently if he was even in college yet. The boy bit down on his lower lip, worrying at it with those prominent front teeth.
With nothing else to comfort him, Hoseok reached over and put a hand over his, trying his best to radiate positivity. He could do that, he was good at that, "They'll take good care of you here. I'm in here all the time with Namjoon — really, you saw me wave at the nurse when we came in, right?"
Jungkook nodded, guarded.
"That's because I've been here like a hundred and six times in the last two years or so. He's probably been here more, to be fair, but I didn't know him until like halfway through my Sophomore year. He's turned out fine every time," Hoseok said, patting at Jungkook's hand. "He's still Namjoon, so like — he always ends up back here, but I don't think there's a lot that can be done about that."
Hoseok looked up to meet Jungkook's eyes, found the barest hint of a smile on his lips.
"So, really, believe me when I tell you're going to turn out alright," Hoseok offered, not sure why he felt the need to keep trying to comfort him really. He was little more than a stranger. Hell, he'd only talked to Hoseok once so far and had sat there the rest of the time kind of quiet, plugs heavy in his ears, bunny teeth hidden behind chapped lips.
"Okay," Jungkook said quietly, voice just a little raw, young. He brushed his pointer finger along Hoseok's, to sooth Hoseok or himself it was hard to tell. If that's what he was even doing. "I believe you."
*****
"They're bonded to you by trauma," Namjoon said, stirring honey into a cup of green tea.
A couple weeks had passed since Hoseok had moved in and gone with his neighbors to the hospital. Jungkook had been patched up and gently scolded by Jimin and the nurse in turn — he had stitches in a couple spots and was supposed to avoid excessive movement so that his leg could heal and things, but he was fine mostly.
Hoseok had thought maybe they'd all go back to being strangers the next day, but the boys across the hallway had had no such ideas. Only about two days passed before Taehyung (Hoseok had caught 'TaeTae's real name late that first night) had knocked at his door again, coming to return his first aid kit and asking to borrow his plunger. Hoseok hadn't asked for specifics.
By the next week, one of them was coming over nightly and they were scarcely even knocking anymore, just wandering in to look through his DVD collection or ask him if he had any chips or if they could borrow his microwave.
(Hoseok had looked up, alarmed. "What do you want to borrow my microwave for?"
Taehyung had smiled in a way that was not really a smile, lips pulling out and in so that his mouth seemed to rise up his face a little and into an almost flat line. He waited for several seconds and had not actually answered the question. Jungkook smirked from the doorway.
Not really knowing what to do with that Hoseok had just told him to bring it back — which they had done the next night, the appliance only smelling slightly sulphurous and none the worse for wear.)
"Bonded by trauma," Hoseok repeated, raising an eyebrow. He took the cup of tea from Namjoon and curled around it, sipping carefully.
Namjoon nodded, drizzled honey into another mug. "Right, like you went through something like, major or extreme together. A stressful situation." He gestured vaguely with his spoon. "Jungkook's accident. And now they've like latched onto you because they feel ... like linked to you through the experience. It could totally be psychology."
He looked as he always did, playfully serious and at ease, dyed silver hair styled into something soft, strings of black ink darting from beneath the rolled sleeve of his teal button down shirt (he'd come from tutoring; they liked collars when they could get them and Namjoon didn't mind playing along with that) and scattering down his right arm in a dizzying pattern Hoseok had never quite understood but had always kind of admired.
Hoseok snorted, batted at his friend. "You mean it's not really?"
Namjoon grinned, shook his head, "No, trauma bonding is something ... very different, not something you actually want in your life, believe me. But you totally fell for that!"
"Of course I believed it, Mr. Double Major and a dozen other things. Come here so I can flick your new tattoo."
"You said you liked it!" That was technically true — Namjoon's newest tattoo crawled up the back of one of his calves, a cluster of wheat stalks and a quote from one of his favorite books pinned over top. It was certainly interesting and pretty like the rest of everything Namjoon had gotten drawn on him (even the little stick and poke heart by his knee from an ex-girlfriend was pretty, even if recognized as a terrible idea now, a few years removed from the experience and said girlfriend), but that wasn't going to stop Hoseok from threatening to use it against him.
Regardless, Namjoon's grin stayed, dimples just a little smug. "I don't get what the big deal is anyway. Ultimately, all it is is three new friends for you — you're not Yoongi, who seems to think he's a hundred percent set with like the two of us and Seokjin and that kinda goth guy from his work, you love friends. You have like a thousand and seven already, what difference do three more make?"
Hoseok sighed, "I just really wish they'd have actually let me make friends with them rather than skipping ahead, it's disconcerting to come home to find the neighbor kid on your couch when you've only known them a few days."
"Taehyung?" Namjoon asked, already starting to be able to pick their behavior apart.
"Him and Jungkook, actually," Hoseok said with a laugh, remembering. The pair of them had stayed for hours, Taehyung chattering away and watching an anime on Hoseok's television while Jungkook tacked on his phone and gave short, distracted answers. "Apparently Jimin had to write a paper and they were being too loud — though Jungkook still doesn't really say much to me? I can't imagine him being loud."
Namjoon hummed in answer, shrugged and sipped at his tea again. "Maybe he's just shy around new people."
Hoseok pulled a knee up to his chest, rested his chin against it. "I hope that's the case."
"Yeah?" Namjoon prompted, a dark eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Hoseok said, and then pouted a little into his tea when Namjoon seemed to want more. "He's really cute," He regretted starting this strain of conversation already.
"You said that they're all beautiful," Namjoon reminded him, chuckling a little. "Actually, if I recall correctly, you said something about about them being three most beautiful people you'd seen in the same room ever in your whole life, which is like —"
"And I really stand by that," Hoseok said with a nod. Namjoon opened his mouth to ask something else, but Hoseok cut in before he could, "Just drink your tea, Joonie." Namjoon made a face, a judgmental little smile on his face, but he obliged anyway.
Because Hoseok didn't need him to actually say it to know that Namjoon was going to ask him what it was about Jungkook, then. Why was he mentioning him specifically?
Hoseok fidgeted with his mug. He thought Jungkook was cute, exceptionally cute, and that was probably fine (Hoseok had found out he was nineteen, a freshman, on the way back to the apartment building that first night, Jungkook complaining about a professor Hoseok knew in the dance building who only did 100-level classes in the slightest slur from whatever pain medicine they'd given to him for his leg).
But he still wasn't sure why Jungkook over the other two, or if he even really had a reason and that — that worried him. He had odd little habits of leaping towards whatever (whoever) caught his eye and that didn't always (usually) end well for either him or the object of his affection.
Hoseok swallowed, set his mug down.
"I just don't want it to be like my crush on Yoongi when I first met him, you know?" Hoseok said after a moment, not bothering with the middle parts of his thought process. "What if I really think I like him because I think he's mysterious or something?"
"Actually," Namjoon said, sheepish grin spreading across his face, dimples sinking into his cheeks, "I was going to say if they're that attractive you should give me one of their numbers." He giggled a little when Hoseok swatted at him, but continued. "If you want to go the other way, like ... Hobi he's a freshman," said Namjoon, yawning a little into the back of his hand. "How mysterious can he be?"
Hoseok thought of the way Jungkook would catch his eye sometimes, not saying anything, just jutting out his chin a bit in acknowledgement or maybe something else. How he almost always tried to ensure that it was alright with Hoseok that they'd come over. How he sometimes stood too close to try and bother him, little smile playing on his lips.
And mysterious wasn't the word, probably, but interesting worked as least as well and left him in the same situation — with something wanting in his chest, but feeling as though he wasn't able to say anything yet. If ever.
"I mean this in the fondest way possible, but shut up Joonie."
"That's probably fair."
*****
The thing about being friends with Seokjin is that while wonderful for a variety of reasons, including like, getting to look at him up close and semi-regular home-cooked meals, it came with forced acceptance of the fact that if you have any kind of usable kitchen (read: are not Namjoon), he will be repurposing it once a month or so for his own purposes — those purposes being dragging as many people as Yoongi is comfortable with, give or take one more, into it after him for a "family gathering."
That's where Hoseok found himself the next Friday, looking over Seokjin's shoulder as he acquainted himself with the kitchen. The rest of everybody would be trailing in later. Namjoon pulling Yoongi from whatever production coma he'd committed himself to, Youngsun walking in the door in sky high heels, on her phone in the middle of some odd, intense work call making snap decisions and sometimes asking Namjoon to clarify the meaning of something in English, Byulyi wandering in and immediately cracking dad jokes with Seokjin.
They all worked well together, playing off each other. They'd been doing this for years, back when they'd all gone to college together, and it wasn't just Yoongi left to half-ass his graduate degree and Byulyi still deep in med school.
"Where do you keep your strainers?" asked Seokjin, half-in one of the cabinets as he sifted through the odd collection of pots and pans Hoseok had collected over the years.
"Strainers, really? Plural?" he asked with a little snort. "I think I put one up here with the bowls and stuff." He pulled it out, placed it on the counter above Seokjin's head.
"Remind me to have a talk with you about optimizing your cookware."
"No, thank you," Hoseok said, face pulling into something sarcastic without much thought.
Before Seokjin could speak again, a voice from behind him called, "Hey, Hobi, I brought back those DVDs Tae swiped —"
The voice was cut off by Hoseok shrieking in surprise, jumping nearly out of his skin, turning around while clutching his chest. Seokjin jumped as well at Hoseok's sudden noise, only he was still half-in the cabinet, so he hit the top of his head against the shelf and pulled back with a displeased look on his perfect face.
"Don't creep up on me like that!" Hoseok said, still kind of clutching at his chest, heart beating quickly.
Jungkook just laughed, showing off bunny teeth. Hoseok swallowed hard, trying not to think about his stupid little crush, trying to tell himself that he didn't jump any harder at Jungkook's voice than anyone else who snuck up behind him. He tore his eyes from Jungkook's mouth and turned away a little. "Sorry, the door was open, so I just ..." he said, though he didn't look as though he didn't look sorry, not really. "Where you do you want me to put the DVDs? Back on the shelf or ...?"
Hoseok waved him into the living room and tried to catch his breath. "Yeah, the shelf is fine. I'm not sure which ones he took anyway."
"It was the first season of an anime I'm like almost positive he's seen before, and then the first season of something called ..." he paused for a moment, out of sight in the living room, probably reading the cover. Hoseok was glad that he seemed to be warming up to him a little more than he had been. He still wasn't particularly talkative, not like either of the other two residents of the apartment across the hall, but he no longer answered in as few syllables as possible either.
He heard Jungkook snicker. "Sex and the City, Hobi, what is this?"
"That's mine!" Seokjin said, unfolding himself from the floor.
Jungkook poked his head back into the kitchen, expression a bit like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and cheeks a little red. "I didn't know you had company, I'm sorry, I'll just —"
"I'm Kim Seokjin," he said, striding towards the stricken looking Jungkook, hand outstretched, fingers bent just a little oddly. Hoseok saw Jungkook glance at them and then politely away, taking the hand in his own and shaking it, expression bemused.
"Hi," Jungkook said quietly, not looking at Seokjin hardly at all.
"Oh, he's shy," Seokjin said glancing over at Hoseok with an expression on his face like isn't that so sweet and then he turned back to look at him. "You're one of the neighbor boys, right? Did you want to come for dinner? The others can come, too. I'm cooking and I always make too much."
One thing that Hoseok had already learned about Jungkook is that he hadn't said no to free food once in his whole life. Hoseok wasn't sure if it was programmed into him because he was a freshman or if that was just Jungkook, but either way he showed back up between the other two and plunked himself down right next to Hoseok.
Hoseok pointedly ignored the look Namjoon gave him, tried his best not to noticeably react every time their thighs were jostled together by the others at the table. Parts of him wanted to flinch away, more of him wanted to press closer, but he stayed still instead, watching his friends eat and chat around him.
"I feel like we're being overrun," Byulyi said lazily to Youngsun.
The other woman hummed, running a dainty index finger around the rim of her soju bottle. "We'll need to put a notice up for new recruits."
"Please, no more people," Yoongi said quietly, tucked down on the end beside them. Byulyi snickered and put another dumpling on his plate from one of the platters from the middle, as thought that would make up for wanting to gather slightly more people around Yoongi.
Seokjin had gone around and had Hoseok's neighbors introduce themselves when they'd wandered in with a case of beer and a case of soju a little after the rest of them.
"Wasn't sure if we should bring anything?" Jimin said, soft voice a little nervous though he looked excited, eyes flicking over the new faces.
"You didn't have to," said Seokjin, peeking out of the kitchen and reaching out to take the alcohol.
Taehyung snorted and pushed past the rest of the people in the entryway, saying, "Good, the beer case is half empty anyway." Jimin giggled, a little embarrassed. Jungkook just shook his head.
They'd dropped in easily, even if Hoseok's table was a little cramped for nine. If they did this again, maybe they'd have to swipe Namjoon's card table or something, but it worked well enough for now.
He glanced across the table, where Taehyung and Jimin had gotten tucked in between Namjoon and Youngsun.
Hoseok had had his suspicions about all of them as soon as he'd gotten to know them a little better, watching how they interacted with each other, thinking that maybe at least two of the three of them were involved with each other, if not all of them together. There was something really interesting to him in the way they interacted with each other. Almost with the same consideration that they had for themselves — as if the three of them were so close that at times they were the same person.
Truthfully, he still wasn't sure really that Jimin and Taeyhung weren't. Especially now as he watched Taehyung feed the other one, thumb darting out to wipe a stray bit of sauce from Jimin's plush lower lip. Jungkook had said they weren't in the same flustered conversation they'd had a week or so ago, when he'd been rejected by some girl in one of his classes, but —
"Are you sure?" Hoseok said, leaning over into Jungkook's space a little further than was maybe completely necessary. The table was packed anyway, it was hard to tell really how close was too close. He could feel warmth radiating off of Jungkook's thigh — that probably meant too close, right?
"Sure?" asked Jungkook after a second, confused, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed down a mouthful of noodles.
"That they're not together," Hoseok said, glancing meaningfully across the table where Jimin was leaning close to Taehyung to whisper something in his ear while Namjoon, on Taehyung's other side, looked on with some combination of amusement and fascination on his face.
"What? Yeah, no, they're just like that," Jungkook said, waving off the idea without even considering it. "They've been like that the whole time I've known them."
"Really? Are you sure they haven't been fucking the whole time you've known them?" Hoseok asked with a little laugh.
Jungkook frowned. "Yes, I'm sure."
"I bet you twenty bucks," Hoseok found himself saying suddenly, not really sure why he was pushing this. He liked the incredulous look on Jungkook's face though, the fact that the conversation was making him ever so slightly flustered. He liked teasing the boy beside him, wondered absently if he could say something else to him that would blush his cheeks.
Jungkook shrugged, shaking his head like Hoseok was being the oblivious one, "Fine, twenty bucks."
Before Hoseok could contribute anything else to the conversation, Seokjin had started picking up the plates in the middle, volunteering Hoseok's living room if they people wanted to stay for longer. Hoseok sighed and helped clear the table. By the time the pair of them had gotten leftovers thrown into Tupperware containers, dishes soaking in the sink, and hugged Byulyi and Youngsun goodnight as they went back to their respective apartments, Yoongi, Namjoon, and his neighbors had spread themselves across his living room.
Hoseok wasn't surprised to see Namjoon talking with Jimin and Taehyung as though he'd known them for years, easily cracking jokes and asking them about themselves and making plans like he did with everyone. They'd all piled into the corner where Hoseok had thrown his beanbags leftover from college when he'd thought they would be a good idea.
Jungkook sat on the end of the couch nearest his roommates, playing on his phone and adding one or two word answers when Taehyung or Jimin prompted him to contribute to the conversation. Yoongi had curled himself up in a chair, sipping morosely from what looked like a glass of whiskey that he'd pilfered from who knew where.
"Did you have a good time?" Hoseok asked Jungkook as he plopped himself onto the couch next to him.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, it was nice," Jungkook said, looking up from his phone. "It's be first home cooked meal I've had in awhile. I mean, we try sometimes but it's not really ... the results are different." He gave a little self-deprecating laugh.
Hoseok had to make himself look away from his mouth, the pair of beers he'd had with dinner making it take just a moment longer than it probably should have. He coughed, rubbed at the back of his neck.
"I'm glad. I hadn't even thought about — but it seems like everyone got along well enough?"
Jungkook nodded, but his expression turned hesitant. Hoseok raised an eyebrow.
"No, you're, uh — I don't know about him?" Jungkook nodded a little in Yoongi's direction, where he was groaning at something Seokjin had said. Hoseok watched as Seokjin took the whiskey from Yoongi's loose grin, sipped at it, and then handed it back. "He seemed — he didn't like us very much, I don't think."
Hoseok was already shaking his head, though. "He's just like that."
Jungkook hummed, but didn't sound convinced. Hoseok watched as his eyes slid across the room, looking for something else to comment on. "I think Tae likes Namjoon, though."
Hoseok nodded. "Everyone does."
"No like ..." Jungkook moved his hand in the air a bit, snickering. He seemed to have lost his train of though and he pushed himself into the back of the couch with some effort, forearms flexing, hands pressed into the cushion. He shook his head after a moment, hair soft over his forehead, humor melting from his expression.
"Oh," said Hoseok, though he knew Jungkook wasn't expecting a response.
"He falls so easy," Jungkook said quietly, almost to himself.
"Oh," Hoseok said, just as quiet.
He wasn't sure what to make of that. It was one thing to joke about relationships Taehyung might or might not be in, it was quite another to have Jungkook say something like that so seriously. Almost like he wished it weren't so.
Maybe it was a protective kind of thing, looking out for one of the boys who was probably closer to him than his actual brother. But whatever the reason, it made something tighten in Hoseok's gut. He was suddenly glad he hadn't drank the third beer Namjoon had handed him.
They watched as Taehyung scooted over to rest his chin on Namjoon's knee for part of whatever joke he was telling, fingers curling over his thigh. There was a moment of flustered teasing from Namjoon, a beat where the pair of them made eye contact and it seemed as though the whole room was silent, and then Jimin was socking Taehyung in the arm and they were all laughing again and it was gone, evaporated as though it had never been there at all.
Hoseok's gaze flicked over to Jungkook's hand, still resting on the cushion between them, long fingers splayed and pretty against the dark green.
He'd forgotten for awhile, but he remembered now — he'd taken Jungkook's hand when he'd hardly known him, that first night in the hospital, to try and comfort him. And he remembered now, the way Jungkook had dragged a finger along Hoseok's, in some kind of reciprocation he'd never thought to ask about.
And suddenly, remembering, he felt just the barest whisper of want ache in his chest. Sure, he'd been looking at Jungkook in a way that was a breath past friendly but now —
Now he dropped his hand to the cushion beside Jungkook's carefully, a motion completely engineered to look like a coincidence, unfurled his fingers just a bit to let his index finger brush against Jungkook's hand, and almost didn't dare breathe.
One thunderous heartbeat and then a second, and really, it wasn't as though Hoseok had never done anything before, it's not like this was brand new territory. He'd dragged a fair number of people in against him, stumbled home with bruises across his shoulders, wandered through relationships and break ups alike.
But this was — this was Jungkook, and this was new, and he was beautiful and innocent and every part of Hoseok felt like it just wanted to burn in his presence.
"Ah, sorry," Jungkook said, noticing, pulling his hands into his lap with an embarrassed smile.
"No, no, really it's fine," Hoseok said with a shake of his head, careful not to make the words sound hollow.
They went back to watching Taehyung with Namjoon. Watched the easy way Taehyung latched onto Namjoon's arm and caressed little patterns across the skin. Listened to the quiet, bright remarks he made at the tattoos. Taehyung covered Namjoon's hand with his own and brought it to the side of his own face, murmured a crude joke about where Namjoon might also have tattoos.
Hoseok watched as Jimin threw himself onto the ground in laughter and Namjoon blushed and stammered a little but looked generally pleased at the situation.
Hoseok curled his own hands around each other and tried to be happy for them.