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caramel macchiatos and bitter americanos (have i lost myself, or have i gained you?)

Chapter Text

Yoongi's first mistake:

forgetting to drink his coffee this morning.

 

Yoongi woke up to Youngjae throwing a fit. The boy hasn't been sleeping right these past few nights and has continued to wake Yoongi up with his incessant wailing and screaming.

Yoongi loves the kid with his whole fucking heart and soul but, he is not here for all of this crying and whining nonsense.

Exhaustion sits heavy in Yoongi's bones, lying thick in his limbs and making every gesture and movement take hours to complete. It feels like he's skating through molasses or walking through water, as the natural force of gravity pulls at his muscles.

Lethargy is kind to no one.

Yoongi was on his phone at the time he received the plethora of Snapchats from his best friend, which means:

Jimin is hungover...

again.

And so, Yoongi must bring Youngjae to class with him which, he doesn't mind too much, well, except for the fact that social anxiety is a bitch and Yoongi doesn't feel like talking to another random woman about how it feels to be a single father to such a cute little dumpling, as his mother would call him.

Granted, his son is a cute little dumpling and he loves him dearly but again:

Social. Anxiety. Is. A bitch.

A young grad student carrying a baby across campus is more than enough to attract wandering and unfocused eyes, but Yoongi just needs to keep it moving and get through this semester without puking his guts out in a bathroom stall, or forgetting Youngjae in one of his lecture halls.

(It only happened one time Eomma)

Calling Jimin for the umpteenth time is a lost cause at this point because the younger man is most definitely still in his dorm with the seventh boy toy of the month, and as much as Yoongi loves to watch Jimin wallow and suffer in his own self-pity and dramatics, the semantics are getting old and Yoongi does not need to know how big Chanyeol is or how Minseok's mouth is a very filthy one.

"Can you eat for me, please?" Yoongi begs the small boy in the high chair. Youngjae only stares at him, doe eyes wide with a blank look of foreboding and uncertainty. Yoongi groans and does the whole airplane into the mouth bit which yes, makes the boy laugh but, that's not really the goal here now is it.

Yoongi taps the spoon against Youngjae's mouth but the child just shakes his head, pressing his lips together and seriously fuck Seokjin for feeding this boy regular people food. The kid is a fucking brat now when it comes to eating and Yoongi does not need another picky eater amongst his group of friends.

If he can even call those idiots as such.

Yoongi sighs before packing the baby food into a to-go container and grabbing ahold of the chunky boy in his arms. Youngjae's head immediately nods off into the crook of Yoongi's neck, and the grad student can't help but to smile softly as the boy's hairs tickle his chin and jaw.

"You're lucky you get to sleep while I have to suffer through seven hours of classes and my dumbass friends that call themselves your stupid uncles." He murmurs, knowing that his son can't really understand a goddamn thing he's saying.

Even so, he feels like Youngjae is the only one that actually listens to him.

All it takes is the blink of those big, chocolate eyes or, the tilt of that curious, chubby-cheeked head for him to feel like he has the whole world in the palms of his hands.

And in a way, he kind of does.

 

Yoongi loves his son with his whole fucking heart and soul.

 

Yoongi's phone rings as soon as he's inside of the coffee shop. Once he successfully balances Youngjae on his right hip (the boy is now sleeping so he is immediately 10x as heavy), Yoongi answers the phone without even needing to check the caller I.D.

"Good morning Park Jimin. How was the party last night?"

"Hyung..." Jimin whines. Yoongi scoffs.

"What Jimin? I'm seriously about to murder someone right now because I haven't had my cup of coffee yet and I do not have time for your shenanigans right now." Yoongi grits into the phone, aware that people are already beginning to stare as his jaw clenches and a vein or two palpitate from his neck, his skinny arms already tired from carrying the sleeping babe.

Yoongi + people = a disaster waiting to happen.

Jimin giggles on the other line and Yoongi can't help but to roll his eyes. "Pfft, 'shenanigans', hyung... you're so fucking old."

"You mother--" Yoongi bites his lip to trap in the onslaught of curse words that he wants to unleash unto the ungrateful brat on the other end of this call.

Yoongi steadies his breathing.

"Did you actually have a purpose for calling me? You're obviously still drunk and I really don't have time for--"

"Hyung just... shut up and let me speak to JaeJae." Jimin murmurs, his speech heavily slurred from the lag of intoxication flooding his veins. Yoongi swallows back a scream.

"He's two Jimin."

"Let me speak to my nephew."

"Jimin he's fucking two."

"Hyung he can talk ya know. It might not make a whole lot o' sense but he can say things that you and I both know we understand."

Yoongi huffs. "Okay well... he can't talk right now." Yoongi looks over at the chubby face against his shoulder. "He's busy."

"Agh... fine, whatever. Do you still need me to watch him tonight? You have that lil' competition thingie... right?" Yoongi cranes his neck backward, an exasperated sigh clogging itself in the back of his throat.

Ah, the battle.

He promised Namjoon that he would show up but, with Jimin still drunk and Hoseok out of town with his dance company, he has no one to watch Youngjae and there is no way in hell that he can give his all in the quote unquote "ring", with dreadful thoughts of his son getting hurt running circles in his mind.

Yoongi sighs. "Nah, it's okay. There will always be more of those." He can hear Jimin whine once more.

"But hyung... why? I want to see my little bun bun!" He cries. Yoongi's eyes become hooded in annoyance.

"Jimin, you're drunk."

"No I'm not! I'm hungover but... I'm not drunk. I've only puked, what, three times?"

Yoongi inwardly screams.

"Don't worry. I'll just pop some aspirins, drink some water and call it a day. By the time you bring him over I'll be just fine!" Yoongi scoffs.

"Jimin I am not bringing my son over to your dorm when you can barely even think straight. I also don't need him seeing you make out with some half-naked stranger on the couch." Jimin gasps dramatically, feigning incredible offense and being scandalized at the mere thought of such a thing.

"Hyung..." He begins and Yoongi knows he is in for a scolding. "I would never corrupt my little baby nephew like that. Besides, Junseo is a fucking asshole that can go burn in hell." Yoongi purses his lips.

"Jimin, you literally said the same thing last week, and the week before that, and the week before that." Yoongi can practically hear Jimin pouting on the other line.

"Hyung... those times were different." Yoongi takes a step forward, it almost being his turn to order his drink. Anxiety already begins to bubble and curdle in his stomach like rancid milk. He prays that this interaction at the counter goes smoothly and without a hitch.

Unfortunately, he can not do that whilst on the phone with the one and only Park Jimin.

"Yeah, sure. Jimin I have to go, okay? I need to order my drink and I can't--"

"Ugh hyung! Just give me a chance, okay? Let me take care of JaeJae while you kick those guys' asses. You're the best rapper I know. The best rapper in the game!" Jimin says with a giggle and Yoongi outright groans.

"Please don't ever say that to me, ever again." Jimin giggles once more and Yoongi finds himself smiling too.

"Please hyung? Come on, I know you need this money and I want to help you. I'll even watch him free of charge! Well, if you win you have to take me out to a fancy dinner but that's neither here nor there." Jimin says. Yoongi sighs.

"Fuck, fine. Just, you better shape the fuck up before I get there Jimin or I swear--"

"Hello, what can I get for you?" The woman at the counter asks and Yoongi fearfully realizes that he is now at the front of the line and had no time to mentally prepare himself to engage in simple conversation.

Fuck, does he even know what he wants to order?

Yoongi immediately hangs up the phone and adjusts the baby on his hip.

Would the prison sentence be worth it if he murdered Park Jimin?

"Sir...?" The woman raises a brow, a tilt of annoyance coloring her voice as the people behind him groan and sigh. Yoongi grits his teeth.

Yeah, totally worth it.

 


 

The bitter brew inside of Yoongi's empty stomach sloshes violently. With every waking step, Yoongi feels more and more nauseous but, he has one more fucking class left and no:

Yoongi's mother did not raise no weak bitch.

Room 135 finally comes into view and Yoongi takes his last few brisk steps to the door. Youngjae is wide awake and ready to play but now is not the time and soon, Yoongi will be able to calm his son's excitement with a few episodes of Anpanman and a cup of banana milk.

The room is a lecture hall with three rows of raised seating and a whiteboard that covers the entire front wall. Yoongi of course, goes to the farthest seat in the back, a few of the other female students cooing as he tightens his grip on the baby in his arms. Youngjae has slept through almost all of his classes so far and luckily, the only time he threw a fit was during his free period where, no one was really around nor paying attention.

Even so, his son's biological clock better get into fucking gear because maybe Yoongi is a bit pissy that his son can sleep all day and he can't.

Is it normal for a father to be jealous of their two-year old son?

Because fuck. 

Yoongi watches as other students set out their laptops and begin typing. It befuddles him because one, this is literally the first day of class and two:

it's the fucking first day of class.

What could they possibly already be working on that needs to be documented and sent to the depths of the world wide web?

Jimin is right. Maybe Yoongi is fucking old.

At two minutes to four, the door violently swings open and in bursts a flash of tan and maroon.

Yoongi has to double check the syllabus.

This is... Art, Literature, & Music, right?

Yoongi only picked this class because it was one of the few seminars that had the word music in it and it was kind of mandatory.

Not only that but, he was expecting a professor who had ratty suit jackets and leather elbow pads, potentially the same sweater vest that they wore twice a week, and to damn near be on their death bed.

Not this.

Not someone like this.

The professor before him has long, chocolate locks, pushed neatly back with a deep red headband. The locks of hair reach a bit past the nape of the man's neck, the strands framing his sculpted face perfectly and helping to accentuate his tan cheekbones and firm jawline.

The man's nose is sloped to impeccability, his lips thin and yet plump in all the right places. His oak brown eyes are shaped like two distinct almonds, one with a mono lid and the other, a double. 

His brows are dark and arched and in his ears dangle two, silver earrings that swivel, catching the dim lighting of the ceiling above. He is wearing a maroon turtle neck with fitted jeans and a tan blazer, along with a pair of dress shoes to match.

He smiles.

"Hello, I'm Professor Kim." He says and Yoongi is immediately stunned by such a deep, rich, velvety voice, laced in gruffness and ragged energy. Yoongi doesn't even know what to think because holy fuck.

This man's voice does not match his face.

Professor Kim beams at his class, his lips forming a rounded box as his eyes turn into crescent moons.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit behind my time today." He says as pulls his laptop from his brown satchel, embroidered in colorful, intricate patterns and threaded with all kinds of multicolored beads. Professor Kim pulls down the projection board and turns on the projector, connecting the devices with the chord provided beneath the podium.

They connect and on the screen, projected are the words:

Art, Literature & Music

Professor Kim

Rm. 135

 

Over the next hour and a half, Yoongi learns one of many things about Professor Kim.

  1. His professor has a habit of raking his hear from the bottom up.
  2. His smile resembles a box.
  3. He is energetic and charismatic and downright loves job.

And, last but not least...

4. Professor Kim's voice sounds like honey milk, or a steaming, cozy cup of hot chocolate on a cold afternoon.

Professor Kim's voice is drenched in caramelized tones and doused in the richest of deep, soft summer colors.

Professor Kim's voice is beautiful.

Professor Kim's voice is dangerous.

 

Professor Kim's voice is everything.

 

Youngjae gets a little fussy towards the end of class and yes, all of the students turn to look at the pair sitting all the way in the back of the room. Some offer sympathetic smiles, smiles that say "aww, cute kid but it sucks to be you", you know, those kind of smiles.

Others cast their judgmental looks, making Yoongi's chest tighten with unease and forcing his throat to close up in anguish.

But Professor Kim...

Professor Kim just giggles and continues on with the lecture, as if nothing happened at all. He does throw a glance here and there at the student all the way in the back, with the dark black hair and the cat-like eyes (alongside his little mini-me) but, this goes unnoticed among most.

Well, most except, Min Yoongi.

The next hour or so is simply an introduction and overview of the syllabus and how the course is as a whole. Yoongi doesn't really give a shit and Youngjae thankfully busies himself with his little Japanese figurine. Namjoon had bought it for him when he and Seokjin went overseas on vacation.

Class is soon over and Yoongi waits until the rest of the class has removed themselves from the room. He doesn't think he can handle anymore of those treacherous, judgmental stares from his so-called "peers".

"Min Yoongi-ssi." Professor Kim calls out as the professor packs up his belongings. Yoongi swallows thickly, his tongue suddenly lazy and bloated behind his pouty lips.

"Y-Yes, Professor?" Yoongi responds, mentally cursing himself for the slight stutter and waver in his voice. Professor Kim offers him a small, closed-mouthed smile.

"Is this your son?" He asks, looking at the chubby boy in his grasp. Yoongi clears his throat, thinking that it be best to lie but, he can't for some reason.

Professor Kim's eyes won't let him.

"Yes." Yoongi says while looking at the boy in his arms who is, already nodding off once more. Professor Kim giggles deeply and Yoongi can't help the way that his breath hitches at the sound.

"I thought so. He looks just like you. He's adorable." He says. The ends of Yoongi's lips quirk up at the compliment but, he suddenly feels the tinge of sorrow edging its way around his heart and singeing his blood with sadness and something bitter.

"Thank you, sir." If Professor Kim notices the subtle change in Yoongi's tone, he doesn't act upon it, nor does he hint at the fact that he can sense that something is wrong.

He simply blinds Yoongi with another one of his boxy smiles.

"Will he be joining us often?" He asks. Yoongi immediately shakes his head.

"No sir it's just, well, I had a babysitter but, he had to cancel at the last minute and I didn't have time to find another--"

"Yoongi-ssi," Professor Kim cuts across his sentence, "I am not upset with you. Your son can accompany you whenever you need him to. I was just curious." Professor Kim explains and Yoongi is caught off guard because, not only does Professor Kim seem to be too kind for his own good but, he talks so strange, as if he's in one of those old timey, historic K-Dramas.

It's off putting to say the least but, not unsettling.

No, not that, not that at all.

"Oh." Is all Yoongi can manage to say. He nods his head slightly with the pucker of his lips and Professor Kim heaves his satchel onto his shoulder.

"I look forward to seeing what you bring to the class, Yoongi-ssi."

"Uhm, yes, thank you Professor." Professor Kim nods and with that, he leaves behind a trail of cinnamon that wafts into Yoongi's own little personal bubble, home to him and his son.

Yoongi sighs.

 

Professor Kim is maverick.

 


 

 

Jiminie

you would think my teacher is hot

huh?

my professor for this art class i'm taking. you would think he's hot

what's his name?

hold on let me check

ah, his name is kim taehyung

that name sounds so familiar but idk where i know it from

i'm gonna look him up

ok

HOLY FUCK

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

he is gorgeous hyung. is he some kind of model? these picks look professional asf

idk. and he's okay I guess.

what, you don't think he's hot too?

i mean, i guess if... you like that kind of... human

god hyung you're so weird

thanks

tell my bubba i said hello

he is currently chewing on his Anpanman toy so he unable to speak right now

he doesn't have to speak for you to tell him i said hello

he says hello

no he didn't

you know him so well

ill see you guys tonight

alright


 

 

 

From: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [Son In Class]

To: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Hello Professor.

I am sorry to bother you but I am reaching out because I realize that my son will have to accompany me to class, a lot more often than not. I will soon enroll him in daycare once I have the money and when that is all sorted out, he will no longer have to join me in class. I am sorry for the inconvenience.

Sincerely, Min Yoongi

 

 

From: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [RE: Son In Class]

To: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Hello Yoongi-ssi.

Of course you can bring your son into class. He is not a distraction at all.

Sincerely, Kim Taehyung

 


 

Min Yoongi thrives on the stage.

 

It is his home, his safe haven away from the ghetto streets of Daegu. Away from the blood and war of the youth with egos bigger than their dreams.

The cheering crowd is his solace, his peace of mind, his serenity.

 

Agust D thrives on the stage.

Agust's opponent, somebody who goes by the name of G-Dragon, has a unique flow. 

The man is quick witted with his thoughts, his tone sharp and clean like the edge of a knife. 

All the man can say however, is how pale and petite Agust is. How weak and fragile he is. How he must not know pain because pain is something that is meant for those who deserve greater, those who are blessed.

Those who have already suffered enough.

 

G-Dragon's flow is all about disses. 

Agust D's flow is about survival.

 

The poet spits the words so fast that nothing but the sound of his own voice reverberates throughout the greasy, underground joint. His thoughts are rabid and diseased, infected with bloodlust and the harships and struggles of a poor boy, selling tracks on the streets just so he can afford something to eat. 

Agust's rhymes are enflamed, deadly. Poisoned with the festering illness of poverty and the thrill of success. 

 

G-Dragon's flow is to hurt.

Agust D's flow is to live.

 

The crowd is silent once Agust has the opportunity to catch his breath, not that he needs to.

He still had a few more seconds on that last verse but, he decided to take it easy on the poor poet. 

 

G-Dragon's flow is cute.

Agust D's flow is a massacre. 

 

The crowd erupts into a roaring devastation of applause. Agust doesn't need to know the results of the battle.

 

He's already won.

 


 

Yoongi texts Jimin to let his friend know that he is on his way.

In return, he receives the cutest picture of Youngjae asleep on his babysitter's chest, the television the only source of light as they watch his son's favorite Avengers movie.

"Fuck hyung, you didn't have to come for him like that!" Namjoon is gleaming as he bursts through the room. His self-proclaimed manager hands over the rapper's well deserved wad of cash, the money that he has worked so hard to earn.

Yoongi counts through it before he hands back a few won bills.

"Here." He says. Namjoon scoffs. 

"Hyung, no. I can't take this. I took my cut already."

"Here's a little extra. You got me the gig Joon." 

"Hyung--"

"Joon, just take the money. It's no sweat off my back, for real." 

The younger man sighs before taking the money, his dimples deepening and his eyes glistening. 

"Thank you, hyung." He says. Yoongi nods before packing away the rest of his things. He already has two projects coming up and a handful of assignments that are due before the end of the week and time is certainly not on his side.

Is anything really on his side? 

 

The ride to Jimin's is done on autopilot. Yoongi's brain is filled with static and his ears burn with white noise. 

His chest is warm but his stomach is lopsided, filled with a spark of panic and thrill.

He pulls up to Jimin's apartment complex and buzzes the door. There's a beeping sound before Jimin's tired voice echoes from the bogus speakerphone. 

"Don't you have a key hyung?" Yoongi sighs.

"I lose it, remember?" 

"Aish hyung." 

The door buzzes and Yoongi makes his way up the stairs and straight to Jimin's door. It's already unlocked and Yoongi is greeted by a messy haired Jimin in bright orange pajama pants and a white t-shirt. 

“Hey hyung.” Jimin grumbles in his soft, airy voice. Yoongi snorts.

”Hey.” They hug and Jimin pulls away shortly after, rubbing his tired eyes.

Yoongi hands over some money. 

Jimin’s brows scrunch as his cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink. “Hyung, I don’t—“

”I owe you a lot Jimin. You always take care of him when I can’t and that means more than you know.” Jimin scoffs at Yoongi’s words.

”Hyung...” Jimin hums before bringing Yoongi in for one more hug. The hug is gentle but Yoongi feels like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him.

Jimin looks up at him, their bodies still flushed together and their breaths mingling.

 

Jimin is so pretty.

So devastangly pretty.

 

With his soft, plump lips and his fragile, puffy cheeks. 

Yoongi wants to kiss his button nose and caress his soft, scarless skin.

Jimin's lashes are that of a butterfly's wings, pushing forward gushes of air that tickle Yoongi's porcelain skin.

Jimin tilts his head up as Yoongi opens his mouth. His pouty lips part before he closes them as quickly as he had opened them, resembling a fish out of water. 

”Jiminie, I...” Yoongi can't even find the words.

He knows he needs it.

Fuck, they both need it.

But still, Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to ask.

Jimin praises him with an angelic smile.

”Hyungie...” He whispers before planting a quick kiss to Yoongi’s lips. It’s to test the waters before Agust immediately deepens the kiss, hungry and ravenous for Jimin’s plump lips and baby fat cheeks.

Jimin tastes of citrus toothpaste and christmas cookies.

The concoction should be nauseating.

It's not.

Jimin tastes sweet.

Jimin tastes delicious.

 

Jimin tastes like the past.

 

Yoongi and Agust alike both hate the past. 

 

Yoongi knows he’s making a grave mistake the second his back hits the mattress.

It’s far too late to turn back the hands of time.

The rising sun beckons Yoongi to awaken as beams of light stream through the dingy blinds. 

Yoongi quickly dresses himself and packs his things. He swiftly collects a sleeping Youngjae into his warm, sweater-clad arms, dipping out of the doorway and making his way back home.

He sees the fucking parking ticket on his windshield after he tucks Youngjae away into his car seat.

 

Serves him right for answering a fucking bootycall with his ex-boyfriend while his two-year old son was asleep.

Right down the hall.

 


 

Saturday trudges on as Yoongi locks himself away in his apartment. 

Youngjae is having a bad day. The boy ate something bad and had puked all over Yoongi's night clothes. He ends up feeling better after his nap and after the vomiting, which is good.

Yoongi however, is not so lucky.

The man is no match against the nauseous rolling in his gut, and the guilt eating away at him for using his best friend/babysitter for sex only makes him feel worse. 

Seokjin texts him, asking if he could come in early for work and Yoongi would have said no if, it weren't for the extra money that his boss had offered in return.

Below his hyung's text is a message from Youngjae's grandpa.

Yoongi's stomach sinks.

 


 

Yoongi waits in the barren parking lot of the shopping mall. 

Youngjae's grandparents are taking him for the weekend and honestly, Yoongi would rather die than let these monsters get their claws on his son.

That familiar, gray mini van pulls into the lot and Yoongi turns around to face the two-year old in the backseat.

He inhales sharply.

"I love you, okay? And on Monday I'm going to get you and bring you back home. You're going to come back with me, but until then, you have to be good for them, okay Jae?" Yoongi tries to reason, and Youngjae seems to already get the message, as his big, brown eyes begin to water uncontrollably.

"G-go?" He whimpers. Yoongi sighs as he gets out of the car to unbuckle the small child. He hoists his baby into his arms, holding him close and tight into his chest.

"Yes baby, you have to stay with your grandparents but it's only for a few days. But you're gonna be good, and time is going to fly by so fast but, only if you're good to them, okay? Promise me you'll be good?"

"Mhmm." Youngjae nods as his father places a kiss upon his forehead. Hyojin's parents exit the vehicle. Youngjae's grandmother eyes Yoongi warily whilst the grandfather straight up snarls in his face. 

They don't say a word as they snatch Youngjae roughly and get into the van. The boy is sniffling now, a few tears leaking from his big bright orbs as he is driven away, his eyes never leaving his father as his body crumples into the backseat. 

 

Yoongi feels the sudden urge to vomit.

 


 

A busboy who also serves as the entertainment for the evening is one of the things that solely pertains to Min Yoongi and Min Yoongi alone. 

Tonight is particularly a slow night for tips (even though the restaurant is packed with filthy rich customers) but, Yoongi doesn't really care.

His heart turns to ink, sinking into his hands and pouring from his fingertips as they cascade along the keys of the grand piano. He gets requests often. Some are popular songs that he knows and others are ones that he's never heard of. He takes mental notes to go back home and look the songs up on YouTube so that he can learn them for another time. 

Yoongi finishes his fifth song of the night before he sees a booth that needs to be wiped down. He grabs a black bin from the kitchen area, smiling graciously at the applause from the patrons as he places the dirty cups and plates into the bin. 

He reports to the front where, Seokjin is writing something onto a notepad. 

The handsome man smiles at him as he approcahes. "Hey, can you take those two over there? We're kind of busy right now and every waiter is booked." Yoongi nods quickly before his eyes land on the pair that Seokjin had motioned to.

Fuck.

"Jin--" 

"Yah! That's hyung to you." The young entrepreneur interupts. Yoongi rolls his eyes. 

"Jin-hyung, I... I can't. Can you give me another table or booth? I can handle them while you switch me with someone else." Seokjin sighs as he looks up at the two men standing by the door, chatting idly.

"Hyung, I thought you said you were getting better with this." Yoongi chokes back a faint cry. He feels fucking pitiful, like a child trying to prove their worth to an undeserving parent.

"I am getting better, I am but, I really can't take him. Just, ask someone else, please." Seokjin fixes Yoongi with a steely glare before his gorgeous eyes soften into chunks of sweet chocolate.

He notices that Yoongi specifically says him, even though there are two men standing by the door.

Seokjin smiles softly. "Yoongi, just, give them their menus and show them to a booth. After that, I'll give them to someone else. I promise." Yoongi clenches his jaw, knowing that this is the best outcome he's going to get. 

He nods before heading to the podium at the front and snatching up two menus. 

"Table for two?" He mumbles. He hears one of the men before him gasp a bit.

"Yoongi-ssi, hello." Professor Kim greets. Yoongi's stomach flips.

"Hi."

Professor Kim smiles. "I had no idea that you worked here. Jeongguk, this is Min Yoongi-ssi. He is one of my students." He introduces Yoongi to the young man beside him. This Jungkook, is wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white t-shirt with perfectly quaffed hair and tight skinny jeans. He resembles a young James Dean and Yoongi can't help but to feel slightly agitated at his presence.

He doesn't know why. He just does.

Jeongguk gives him a quick wave and Yoongi's lips press together into a thin line. 

"Hi... table for two?" Yoongi tries again. He is aware that he sounds like an asshole right now but tonight is not the night to make a fool of himself. This man is going to be his teacher for the next fifteen fucking weeks. 

Professor Kim shakes his head. "Actually, we have a table for three. Our other friend isn't here yet." Professor Kim responds as he looks pointedly at Jungkook who, has his brows furrowed as he stares at the ground. He has his hands in his pockets and...

Is he... blushing?

Count Yoongi irritated, and slightly pissed off.

Professor Kim clears his throat. "How is Youngjae? Is he alright? He wasn't in class with us on Friday." He recounts fondly. Yoongi doesn't know how he feels about this man asking of his son's whereabouts. He is practically a stranger and Yoongi is too careful for that shit.

He shrugs. "He's fine I guess." Professor Kim raises a brow.

"You... guess?"

"I mean, yes, he's fine. He's with his mom's parents in Daegu." Professor Kim nods, his lips parted as he takes in the information.

"Ah, okay. Good. I thought he might be here." Yoongi's brows furrow.

"And if he was, would that be a problem?" He asks. Professor Kim's brows knit slightly.

"Well, I mean, it's just, this place is loud and quite noisy for a child, don't you think? It's also home to a bar so..." He trails off and Yoongi feels his blood begin to boil.

"Your point?"

"I wouldn't think of it as a suitable place for a baby, that's all." Yoongi's jaw clenches, his pent up rage filling to the brim and threatening to spill out onto the floor.

"You think I don't know that? Do you really think I would bring my son to a bar while I'm working, especially on a busy night like this where I can't even check on him? Because if you think you have any right to tell me how to raise my son then you can kindly go fuck yourself." 

Yoongi slams the menus down and practically stomps his way into the bathroom, not giving himself the chance to even look at his professor's reaction to his sudden fit of rage.

Once in the restroom, Yoongi splashes cold water on his face, his heart ramming inside of his chest, breathing becoming a daunting task. 

 

Yoongi fucking hates himself. 

 


 

 

Seokjin

yoongi?
yoongi where did you go?
those guys left. you dont have to worry about them anymore.
yoongi???


 

Yoongi wakes up feeling like utter shit on Monday.

His head is pounding and the queasy feeling in his stomach seems to be a permanent symptom of simply being Min Yoongi.

He thinks that maybe Youngjae was actually sick and whatever he had was contagious, seeing as how Yoongi constantly feels the utter need to throw up after every class. He knows it's not a good idea to finish out the day without eating a proper meal but, he only eats because it's a necessity to life, not because he actually enjoys the act itself.

Even so, three cups of coffee on an empty stomach was a real bad idea.

The class Yoongi has been dreading most has drawn near and the homebody in him just wants to give it all up and find solace underneath the covers of his bed.

Maybe he can just turn in this assignment and go.

Professor Kim seems to be on time today, as the man is typing away on his computer in a green, orange striped turtleneck and a beret to match.

A beret, what kind of gaudy fucking bullshit is - 

"Yoongi-ssi, may I speak to you for a moment?" Yoongi's body stills.

He really needs to puke.

Yoongi sighs, walking over to his professor with his eyes steady on the ground and his heart in his throat. Professor Kim visibly swallows and Yoongi sighs.

"Listen Professor, if it's about what happened at Ossu then--"

"Yoong-ssi please I..." he takes in a deep breath, "I would like to apologize for the other night. I was not trying to insinuate that you were a bad parent, or anything of that nature. I have a few nieces and nephews myself and even though they are not children of my own, I can't even imagine what it must be like to go to school while working part-time and raising a them. Regardless, I was out of line ,and I truly am sorry for offending you. If I was in your shoes, I would go to war with anyone who tried to tell me how to raise my kid." Professor Kim finishes sternly and Yoongi exhales shakily. 

Great, now he feels like even more of an asshole. 

Yoongi gulps. "Professor it... it's okay. I just, I took it way too far and--"

"As you should have. That's your son." Professor Kim cuts across his sentence with dark eyes and Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek.

"Still, swearing at you like that was uncalled for and... I'm sorry." Professor Kim huffs with a small smile.

"It's alright. I accept your apology." He says and Yoongi feels like a ten ton weight has been lifted from his shoulders. More and more students enter as Professor Kim's eyes land on the papers in Yoongi's hands. "That's the summary of the reading that was due tomorrow, yes?" He asks, almond eyes filled with curiosity. Yoongi chuckles nervously.

"Uhm, yes actually, I was going to, I was going to turn it in early and leave. I have to pick up Youngjae from his grandparents." Professor Kim nods.

"Ah, alright." He holds out his hand for the assignment and Yoongi hands it over, their fingers grazing in the process. Yoongi quickly retracts his hand as if he's been burned.

The jolt of electricity that shocked its way into his skin however, is still evident. 

Professor Kim doesn't seem to notice as his eyes skim over the paper. 

"Thank you, Yoongi-ssi. I will read this over and email you with my thoughts. Don't forget that your artist discussion post is due on Friday. I have already scheduled one-on-one meetings with the rest of the class. Can you email me a time that works for you so I can see when we should meet?" 

Fuck.

Yoongi had forgotten all about signing up for a time to discuss his paper. He was too blinded by the guilt of leaving his son behind and sleeping with his ex. He was considering writing about Youngja Lee and her contribution to the Réminiscences de la Proven, (and also because he named his son after her) but, the concept is probably far too overdone. 

Yoongi forces himself out of his stupor once he realizes that the other man has gone silent, waiting for a response. 

"R-Right, yeah okay. I'll email you a time tonight, after I get Youngjae." Yoongi responds meekly and Professor Kim fixes him with a dazzling, boxy smile. 

Yoongi's pulse stutters.

"Okay. Thank you." Professor Kim says with a slight nod of his head. Yoongi's nose wrinkles, annoyed that he is being thanked for doing absolutely nothing.

"Y-Your welcome, I guess." Professor giggles. 

He fucking giggles bitch.

Yoongi forces his feet to move as he exits the classroom. He can hear his professor's booming, cavernous voice fill the space as he walks further and further away. The sound of the voice begins to diminish and Yoongi would be grateful, if it weren't for the fact that the man's voice was addicting and downright divine to listen to.

Yoongi puts his keys into the ignition, the engine roaring to life before he pulls out onto the street.

He can't wait to hold his son in his arms again.

 

But something within him wants holding.

To be held. 

 

And suddenly...

He wonders what it would feel like to be held in someone else's arms again.

 

Someone who was kind.

And loving.

And new.

 

That was Yoongi's last mistake.

Chapter Text

 

 

 

From: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [Final Project Meeting]

To: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Hello Yoongi-ssi.

I read over your summary of Lee Jaekyun's thesis on separating the art from the artist. I think you have something interested going here. I was looking through my schedule and it seems like I can fit in a time to meet with you tomorrow an hour before class. I think we can really use that time to talk through some of your ideas for the final term paper.

Does this work for you?

Sincerely, Prof. Kim

 

 


 

Yoongi inhales the toxins of nicotine, the bitter, smoky-sweet taste thick on his pouty lips.

 

The only upside to having Youngjae with his grandparents is the fact that he can smoke freely without his son seeing. 

He doesn't need his son seeing this.

As soon as Yoongi sees the van however, he drops the cancer stick to the ground, stomping it out and extinguishing the lit embers with the crunch of his black boot.

Yoongi locks eyes with Youngjae who, looks utterly miserable in the backseat, that is, until his eyes land on his father. 

Youngjae's milk chocolate eyes light up with glee, his own gummy smile now visible and making Yoongi's heart swell joyously. He can hear his son's squeal through the car window, his little coat clad arms flailing with clenched fists in excitement. Yoongi's own happiness is short lived as soon as he sees Youngjae's grandfather who, rolls his eyes at the small boy's excitement. 

Yoongi is fucking livid. 

Even so, as soon as the car is parked, Yoongi is on the other side of it, no longer able to wait for Youngjae's grandparents to slowly and crudely snatch him out of the car seat, just to spite Yoongi. 

They would manhandle his son, just to spite him. 

Yoongi lets out a small, playful grunt as he picks up his chubby son, kissing both his cheeks and holding him close. Youngjae squeaks, giggling at the surprise attack and imitating his father with a kiss of his own, placing his tiny, sloppy, wet lips to the apple of his father's cheek. It's not really a kiss, more like a bump of his soft, squishy face against Yoongi's.

Yoongi snorts. 

"Did you have fun?" Yoongi asks. His baby is still wrapped up tightly in his winter coat, his nose and cheeks pink from the cold and delight. 

Youngjae's grandparents round the vehicle, standing by the hood of the car as the baby tucks his head in the crook of Yoongi's neck, hiding from everything scary in the world. 

Yoongi takes this as a no to his previous question and sighs, kissing his son's head before looking at the couple standing across from him. 

He nods. "Thank you for looking after him." Yoongi says, trying to conjure up as much energy as he can when in reality, he hasn't had his coffee yet and could honestly care less about the two people he has been trying to impress for the past five fucking years. 

The elderly couple both nod simultaneously, Seoyoon even throwing a small smile Yoongi's way.

Hajun can't even look him in the eye. 

Both pairs part ways and with Yoongi's son curled around him, providing him the only heat amidst the cold winds of November...

Yoongi feels whole.

 


 

Jimin had another... friend over so, Yoongi was shit out of luck when it came to finding someone to take Youngjae for the day.

That is, until he remembers that Hoseok is back in town.

One phone call and a shit ton of text messages later and Yoongi was on the front stop of Hoseok's artist flat. 

The door bursts open and out jumps sunshine ball of a dancer.

"My baby boy!" Hoseok yelps and Yoongi winces as the sound immediately grates against Yoongi's ear drums. 

"Hobi, please, not today. I have a few pieces to work on for my composition class and I need my hearing to do so." Hoseok cackles before taking hold of a squealing Youngjae. Hoseok gasps as he bounces the baby up and down, holding on tightly to the boy's middle. He squeezes the baby's sides, the boy giggling and squealing at the sensation of being tickled. 

"Hyung. What are you feeding my little bunbun over here! He's so healthy and plump like a little dumpling!" Yoongi scoffs, thumbing away some of Youngjae's spittle from his chin. The boy was snacking on fruit snacks in the car and it's a wonder how he got the sweet gummies everywhere else except for his mouth.

"What do you think? He won't eat his baby food anymore because of Seokjin's stupid ass." At this, Hoseok laughs heartily and the sound would be annoying but, Yoongi missed it, a lot. 

Hoseok laughs like how he lives, wildly and free, oh so free and full of love. 

And for that, Yoongi is kind of envious.

Youngjae reaches out a stubby hand, Yoongi placing his palm up so that the baby can place his hand in his. 

His hand barely fills up one-third of Yoongi's.

"I can't imagine but, you have to admit, Jin-hyung's food is really good." 

"Oh yeah? You say that now but try changing one of Jae's diapers after he spends a day over at Jin's." Hoseok's heart shaped lips curl in disgust as he shivers comically. 

"Ugh, yeah never mind. Jin-hyung needs a talking to." Yoongi snorts before handing Hoseok over Youngjae's diaper bag. The dancer takes it graciously, balancing Youngjae in his other arm. 

"You two should get inside. It's cold and I have to get to class." Hoseok nods with a smile. 

"Alright hyung. You take care, okay? I'll call you if we need anything, isn't that right little JaeJae?" Hoseok coos to the baby who, simply giggles, pawing at the dancer's face. Yoongi rolls his eyes, needing to get out of here before he hears anymore of Hoseok's baby talk. 

 

Yoongi drives to class with a heavy heart, dreading every second of every day that he has to be away from his son. 

 


 

 

 

 

Jiminie

are you working tonight?

i was going to see if i could get a few more hours. why?

because we're celebrating tonight since hobi hyung is back in town

oh really? i just dropped youngjae off with him and he didnt tell me anything about this

probably because he doesnt want it to be a big deal when it actually is

the company loved him and wants him to join the ensemble, full time

holy fuck. really? why the hell am i just now hearing about this?

u already have a lot on your plate hyung.

and we didn't want to bother you

thats not bothering me and honestly, it kind of makes me feel like shit when everyone knows whats going on except for me, especially when it comes to you guys.

i want to support you all just like how you support me

hyung...

i cant make it anyway. i dont have anyone to watch jae and i feel like ive been away from him for too long

hyung, my mom can watch him. I'm seeing hobi later on today anyways. my mom misses little jaejae

idk jiminie...

just, see if you can work earlier or something and then join us for drinks, ok? it'll only be for a few hours and then, we can leave together and you can pick jae up from my mom's.

you can have the whole weekend to yourselves, just you and little jae!

come on hyung... you need some time to relax. you've been so stressed lately, with jae's asshole grandparents and all of your projects due, you need to wind down and spend some time with all of us. it's been forever since we've all gotten together!

yeah, ok

see you tonight

bye hyung! give jaejae lots of kisses for me!
im not with him right now but i will when i get him back

you better!

love you!

love you too


 

Yoongi idly stands by the door to Professor Kim's office. 

His hands are clammy around the textbooks that don't fit into his bag, and his throat feels scratchy, saliva replaced with sandpaper as he coughs for the umpteenth time. Not only that but the migraine pulsating in his frontal lobe has his ears pounding and his eyes sensitive to light. He feels bilious and two painkillers floating in a sea of coffee has his stomach sick.

He just wants to get this fucking meeting over with.

Professor Kim is running late and Yoongi is about to leave before he hears a stampede of steps echoing down the hall. He looks up to see his professor jogging toward the door, his hair draping a bit past his ears, pushed back with his signature headband as it bounces gloriously. He looks like he's in some kind of fucking shampoo commercial and it pisses Yoongi off to no end.

The young man has a goofy, boxy smile on his face and the sight makes Yoongi's stomach squirm because he really doesn't understand how the fuck someone can be so happy at this time of day.

"So sorry Yoongi-ssi. I got caught up in another meeting." The professor says, his tan skin a bit flushed and his voice breathy from running. Yoongi simply nods, clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today. He squeezes his lips together into a thin line, his cheeks puffing out and his eyes a bit dim, unimpressed with his professor's antics. Professor Kim takes a key out from his pocket, unlocking his office door with a resounding click and swinging it open, motioning for Yoongi to enter in first. 

He does, and Professor Kim closes the door. Yoongi stands in the center of the room awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, nor his feet. Professor Kim sets his bag down on his desk and sits down in his seat with a contented sigh. He raises a brow at Yoongi who, is clad in an oversized hoodie and the same pinched expression that has his face looking very distinct and, somewhat adorable. ( :| )

"You can sit Yoongi-ssi. This shouldn't take too long but, I do believe we have a lot of things to discuss." He says. Yoongi purses his lips in contemplation before finding a chair to sit in and fiddling with the straps of his bag, slightly on edge.

Why the fuck was he so nervous?

Yoongi slings his bag from his shoulders, setting it down beside his chair and resorting to picking at his fingernails instead. He looks up to find Professor Kim looking at him with kind eyes, a gratifying smile playing at his lips. Yoongi blinks and the other man looks down at the computer he has propped up and powering on. 

"Your response to the article was interesting. If I recall, you agree with Lee? You don't think it's possible to separate an artist's work from the artists themselves, yes?" Yoongi looks to the ground with a shrug.

"Well, I think Lee put it best when he said that an artist and their work are one in the same. I mean, we create and shape our art, based on our values and ideas, right? So, it only makes sense that what we create is used to show who we are as humans." Taehyung clasps his hands together, his chin resting upon his knuckles with a pensive look. Off of the man's silence, Yoongi clears his throat before continuing. "For example, if I were to write a piece about... I don't know... how much our government and the people that we put in charge to lead our country are fucking shitheads then, that obviously means that I disagree with what's going on in our political climate, right?" 

Professor Kim allows his brows to furrow before looking up at the ceiling. He nods. 

"Well, maybe so but, not exactly. I think you and Lee both make valid points about why people create what they create but, I don't think it's fair to say that all artists speak their truths through their work." This has Yoongi squinting curiously.

"Then... what is the purpose of creating art if it's not to tell how we feel?" Professor Kim scoots his chair forward.

"Well for starters, what if I create piece that is meant to put people on edge? Get people to thinking? What if I want to test the waters of our political climate and allow people to show their asses?" Yoongi feels claustrophobic, as if the walls of the room are closing in on him. 

Professor Kim runs a hand through his caramel locks of hair. 

"I don't have to put my story in my art. It would be great if I did but, it's not a necessity. I could simply produce an image to the public, ask them how they feel about it and then, allow that to inform how I potentially feel about what I intended to say. Not everything is black and white."

Yoongi narrows his eyes at the man, somewhat offended at the accusation. 

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

"I know it's not all black and white. That's not what I'm saying." Yoongi knows he's just being stubborn now, but he refuses to give this hippy dippy, delusional ass professor of quote unquote "art" the satisfaction of being right. 

Professor Kim pops his lips. "Okay. I still think that this is something that we should consider. If everything isn't black and white then, why are we so harsh when it comes to the art that people make? Why do we automatically assume that what an artist makes is something that they have to be feeling? Or something that they have to believe?" Yoongi scoffs. 

"You might automatically assume but, I don't. I just see it like it is." Professor Kim's lips curl downward and Yoongi can help but to feel... disappointed, in himself. 

Something he said must have let the man down and Yoongi doesn't know why it pangs his heart with regret. 

"How do you see it then, Yoongi-ssi?" He asks, his sparkly, chocolate eyes calculating and diminutive. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but, he can't.

Professor Kim is beautiful.

Positively, beautiful.

His slim, sculpted face is symmetrical, stunning, and his tan skin glows and radiates charm and magnetism. His eyes are kind, swirling with hints or caramel and dashes of cinnamon. His lips are always slightly glossed and his voice is always so sweet and heavenly, winsome in its deep vibrato and allurement. 

Yoongi feels like he's suffocating. 

"You've been hurt Yoongi-ssi. Someone or something has hurt you to the point where you refuse to recover from it and I get that, okay? I do, believe me I do, but I also believe that in order to continue carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, you put up this front, this mask to hide the fact that you're hurting and that shows in your art. It shows in everything that you do exactly but especially when you play. It shows when you play and I think that in a way, you can use it to progress but at the same time, the pain that you're hiding is hindering you from growing and honestly, I think that your hindrance is a great loss to the music community." 

Yoongi is baffled, utterly baffled. 

His lungs have filled up with water and his throat has closed up on him, his entire body betraying his heart and forcing him to keep quiet. 

But even so, he still has to ask:

"You... you heard me play?" Professor Kim nods.

"Yes, at the restaurant. I... I didn't know you could play like that. You play beautifully, Yoongi-ssi. "

Beautifully.

Ha.

 

Yoongi can't breathe. He can't think. All thoughts and words are forbidden to him as his professor has proven to have clearly figured him all the way out. 

And suddenly, Yoongi can't stand to be in this room for another minute. 

He clenches his fingers around the armrests of the chair, his knuckles burning white. 

"You don't know a fucking thing about me. All of this psychoanalyzing shit needs to stop." Yoongi grits, feeling more and more nauseous with every second that passes. Taehyung sighs, his eyes unrecognizable, gleaming with something akin to pity. 

Yoongi hates being pitied.

"Yoongi-ssi I'm not--" 

"No don't, don't Yoongi-ssi me." Yoongi's imitation of Taehyung's deep voice is almost laughable, despite him being completely outraged and practically seething. "You're trying to read me when you don't know a damn thing about me. You don't know what I'm going through. You don't know what I've gone through, so the fact that you're trying to judge me for what I think is fucking disrespectful and as a professor, to tell me that what I think is wrong when you're asking for my fucking opinion, isn't fair. It isn't right." 

Yoongi snatches up the strap of his bag and leaves the room without another thought. His stomach jolts, a wave of nausea making his body shiver in sickness as his migraine intensifies. 

Yoongi clamps his hand over his mouth as he runs into the bathroom, slamming open a stall door and emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. 

Once his vomiting fit has deceased, he sniffles, wiping his mouth with the back of his oversized sleeve with a guttural, nauseated groan. 

He closes the toilet lid, his body giving off another violent shiver as he feels sick again, his migraine still in full effect and his heart stammering wildly in his chest. 

All Yoongi can think about is how pretty Professor Kim's eyes are.

Or how perfect his lips are.

Or how gorgeous his fucking face is.

And as soon as his nausea subsides...

Min Yoongi knows he's utterly fucked. 

 

Because Kim Taehyung has far too much power over him for this to be just a thing. 

 


 

Yoongi needs to get drunk.

Fucking drunk.

 

It doesn't matter that he threw up after his meeting with Professor Kim. That man is a fucking thorn in his side and it will do Yoongi good to have a night with his friends where he doesn't have to worry about a thing besides getting fucking wasted and having some goddamn fun. 

Yoongi has procrastinated long enough, more than ready to push all deadlines aside and cloud his mind with the intoxication of haze that comes with drinking to excess. 

Good thing Namjoon doesn't drink a lot and can watch over him while he gets completely wrecked. 

Yoongi already sees Jimin and Hoseok at the bar, while Namjoon and Seokjin are giving each other those adoring, googley eyes. 

Envy creaks it's way into Yoongi's bones.

"Hey." He says as he approaches. 

"Hyung!" Jimin exclaims before giving him a hug to which Yoongi returns. Jimin pulls away. "Youngjae is at home with my mom. Just so you know, she's going to spoil with him with treats. She was already done with the yakgwa when I got there." Yoongi sighs.

"Great." He drawls sarcastically. This earns a laugh from both Hoseok and Jimin before the youngest man looks towards the door of the bar. 

"Kookie!" He says brightly, his eyes turning into crescent moons as he takes great strides between both Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi turns to see a young man that he just knows he's seen before. He just doesn't know from where. 

He has his black hair neatly parted and swooped to the side. He has a slightly hooked nose, big doe eyes, and a muscular form clad in a leather jacket atop a white t-shirt. Yoongi notices the tattoos peeking from the leather sleeves of the jacket, lettered ink marking the boy's knuckles. He resembles a Korean James Dean. 

Ah, wait, James Dean. 

The same James Dean that was with...

Fuck. 

"Professor Kim?" Yoongi says with slight disdain. Said man is trailing right behind Jimin's... Kookie. 

If this is the same fucking kid that Jimin has been screwing when he could be watching Jae, Yoongi is gonna kick that boy's round little ass.

Professor Kim's eyes widen slightly before he gives Yoongi a look that he can't decipher. One mixed with shock and, disfavor. 

The professor forces a smile.

He nods in greeting. 

"Hello Yoongi-ssi." He replies. Yoongi is beyond uncomfortable, and Professor Kim seems to feel the same way as he now avoids Yoongi's cat-like eyes. 

Jimin looks between the two men, a small smile playing on his plump lips as he wraps his arms around James De - Jeongguk's, middle. 

"You're in Taehyung's class, right hyung? He's Kookie's roommate. It really is a small world huh?" Jimin says with loveable smile. Yoongi wants nothing more than to release his rage on the human mochi but, he obviously has no clue as to what went down between him and his professor

And since when the hell did Jimin start referring to the professor by his first name? 

Yoongi doesn't really know how to respond, and what he learns quickly is that Jeongguk doesn't say much either. He just holds Jimin close as if the slight breeze from the swinging doors of the bar will carry him away. Jimin just leans into the boy's touch and Taehyung looks down at the tips of his shoes. Hoseok however, seems to pick up on the tension and motions for the bartender to make his way over.

"Let's get some drinks, shall we?" 

 

Two hours later and Jimin and Jeongguk are shamelessly making out somewhere nearby. Namjoon and Seokjin are nursing their drinks in one hand, their fingers intertwined with the other, staring at each other as if they're the only two people in the world. Hoseok is flirting with some woman at the bar and Yoongi is on his third glass of whiskey. He swirls the drink in his hand, swiveling the cup in circles and trying to focus on the burning in his throat and the foggy haze that is clouding his brain. 

Yoongi looks up to see Professor Kim at the bar, another, well built man with the face of an idol, talking to him way too close for Yoongi's liking. 

And Professor Kim, Professor Kim is just laughing. 

He's laughing like a fucking idiot, with that gruff, deep ass voice of his. Apparently this man is the funniest comedian on the face of the earth and if Yoongi doesn't get his ass up right now, he's going to deck this man so hard that his head spins. 

Yoongi abruptly stands from the table, making his way out the back door and making feeble attempts to steady his breathing. There's a dull ache in his chest worming its way through every part of his body and all he wants to do is see his son.

The breeze that smacks him in the face as he exits the bar is somewhat diluting and Yoongi has to force the gushes of air into his shaky, weak lungs. 

He should really stop smoking. 

"Yoongi-ssi?" 

Did... did Yoongi do something wrong? Did he do something horrendous in his past life to deserve such torture? 

He doesn't even turn around to face Professor Kim as he books it down the alley. He hears the other man begin to chase after him.

"Yoongi-ssi, Yoongi-ssi wait." The man pleads. Yoongi stops speed walking, mostly because he's probably getting old and his poisoned lungs don't help too much when it comes to, you know, breathing and all that shit.

Yoongi turns around, his breaths rushed and ragged. Professor Kim's tan cheeks are dusted pink from the cold air of Fall, and the locks of hair that falls just past his earlobes are a bit frazzled beneath the black beret that is a bit tilted on the top of his head.

He takes in a sharp breath. "It seems that... that I keep finding ways to offend you, and that is not at all my intention.” He says. His voice is lower than usual and his eyes are a bit hazy. His thin, pretty lips are a slight shade of red from the suction of the shot glasses that he was drinking from, and his eyes are milky with intemperance. 

"I'm sorry." He says and Yoongi wants to scream.

"Professor Kim--"

"Please, when we’re not in class, you can call me Taehyung.” Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but, shuts it again, not knowing how to respond to such a... privilege. 

"Okay... Taehyung...” He repeats, the name dim and mellow on his pouty lips. Taehyung, smiles. 

"If I remember correctly, you’re older than me?” Yoongi nods. "Ah so... hyung, yes?" Yoongi gulps. 

"How old are you?” He asks, knowing that this is probably inappropriate but Taehyung is Taehyung now, not Professor Kim.

Things are different now.

"I'm twenty-four." Yoongi barks out a bitter laugh.

"Oh.”

Great, as if Yoongi didn't already feel like his life was going no where. That he, was only getting older. Someone younger than him, even if by a few years, has already surpassed him majorly.

Fuck.

"Oh..." Is all he manages to say and Taehyung giggles.

Yoongi doesn't think he'll ever be able to get used to that sound.

Taehyung shoves his hands into the pocket of his long tan coat, exhaling on a hum that pushes an icy cloud of air from his nostrils.

"Are you heading out?” He asks. Yoongi nods. 

"Yeah, I think so.”

"Do you have a ride home?” He questions again and Yoongi guesses that it's probably because he's completely inebriated and incapable of driving himself home. 

"Yeah my friend Namjoon, you know, the dork with the glasses who won’t stop eye fucking his soon-to-be husband? Yeah he doesn’t drink so, he’s probably taking me home. You?” Taehyung laughs heartily.

"Well, Jeongguk said he wasn’t going to drink so he could take us both home but that’s obviously not true since he had like... six shots before he disappeared with your friend so, no, probably not. I’ll just take a cab.” The thought sets Yoongi on edge and for some odd reason, he doesn't know why. Perhaps it's because he's drunk but, if Yoongi is able, he has no problem holding out a helping hand. 

Even if it's to the man that keeps having him question everything that he thought was right. 

"No I’m... I’m sure Namjoon won’t mind. We have to make a pit stop to pick up Jae but, we can drop you off at your place?” A pleasant laugh tumbles from Taehyung's lips, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. 

“Yeah I’d... okay, I’d like that.” 

 

It takes some time to gather up the others, but once it's done, Yoongi makes it very clear that he would like to get the show on the road so that he can get to his son. 

Apparently, Seokjin is sober as well, which is genuinely a surprise. Namjoon takes Yoongi and Taehyung in one car, while Seokjin rounds up Hoseok and those other two idiots that shall not be named. 

The ride to Taehyung's flat is done quietly. Namjoon makes feeble attempt to converse but, they are all met with failure as Taehyung tries to talk as well but, when met with Yoongi's overwhelming despondency, the car once again grows quiet. Yoongi can't also help but to feel Taehyung's eyes on him every once in a while. 

Namjoon parks in front and Taehyung nods his head to the driver. 

"Thank you Namjoon-hyung. I really appreciate it." He turns to Yoongi who, has his head leaning against the cool window of the backseat. "Goodnight." He bids and Yoongi wonders why Namjoon got so much more of a proper goodbye than he. 

The professor opens the door and throws a cautious smile to the back of the car before making his way inside. 

Yoongi sighs, his breath fogging up the glass. Namjoon hums.

"Good looking guy huh? Very nice too."

"Namjoon-ah?" 

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Okay."


 

 

 

From: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [Sorry]

To: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Professor.

I really want to apologize.

For everything.

Best, Min Yoongi

 

 

 

 

 

From: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [RE: Sorry]

To: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Hello Yoongi-ssi.

There are no hard feelings.

I promise.

Sincerely, Prof. Kim

 

 

Chapter Text

Agust doesn't listen to orders. 

 

He is solitary, hard as flint, and downright villainous on the stage. 

He doesn't have time for pleasantries. 

And he for damn sure doesn't have time for this. 

 

The boy is young, soft spoken. His swagger is timid and subtle, his lyrical stanzas are cute, pretty even.

It pains Agust to have to demolish the poor boy. 

 

His name is Han and he's quite the sight. Well built, good-looking face. What, eighteen? Nineteen maybe?

He's brave for this. 

For going against Agust. 

 

Too bad this'll be over before it even began.

 

 

 


 

 

It's around one in the afternoon when Yoongi gets a call from his mother. 

 

His head is pounding and his ears are buzzing from the aftermath of a drunken night with the lot of idiots he calls his friends. 

And Professor Kim. 

Or rather, Taehyung. 

How could he forget the one and only Kim Taehyung? 

Yoongi's bones creak as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand. "Hello?" 

"Yah! Yoonki-ah, I called you three times yesterday and you didn't answer me." Yoongi scoffs, rubbing his eyes that are now rimmed with a vibrant red, the color of blood.

"I'm sorry Eomma, I've been busy." 

"With that music?" Yoongi sighs, not having the strength nor the patience to argue with this woman right now. 

"Yes, with that music." Yoongi hears a bit of shuffling on the other line before his mother speaks up again. 

"Agh," she complains, "you know that'll get you nowhere, right?" Yoongi swallows. 

"I know." 

"But you know that I want you to be happy, right Yoonki?" 

"Yes I know 'Ma." 

"Does music make you happy?" 

Yoongi knows that she already has the answer to this question. She just needs confirmation.

Yoongi inhales sharply. 

"Yes 'Ma, it makes me really, really happy." 

"Ah, okay."  More shuffling. "How is Jae?"

"He's good, very good."

"Are you feeding him? You better be feeding my dumpling." 

"I am Eomma." 

"You better be."

"I am. Did you actually need something? Or..." The woman on the other line snickers. 

"Can I not call to see how my son is doing?"

"I mean... you can." Yoongi says as he rubs the back of his neck. He hears his mother scoff. 

"When are you coming to visit us? I know Christmas break is coming up so don't try and fool me."  Yoongi huffs out a laugh.

"I would never try to fool you, and yes, I was planning on coming back for Christmas." 

"Good. Your old man misses you, you know."  

"Does he now?" Yoongi finds it very hard to believe, as his father was never kind nor good with his words but, neither was Yoongi.

Perhaps that's where he gets it from. 

"Yes he does. And we want to see our grandson too. I have a feeling you're not feeding him right.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, glad that his mother is unable to see.

Why the hell was everyone so obsessed with his son's eating habits?

"What was that?" 

Oh, did he say that out loud?

"Nothing Eomma. I have to go now." 

"It's Saturday. What do you have to do on a Saturday?"

"Goodbye 'Ma." Yoongi says with a laugh, his mother scoffing before giggling herself. 

"Goodbye Yoonki, and maybe call your mother once in a while? I won't be here much longer you know." He swallows.

Yoongi doesn't want to think about such semantics. 

"Okay, I will. I promise." They exchange a few more goodbyes, his mother chiding him to take care of himself before Yoongi is finally free of the call. He hears Youngjae whining from his crib and even though it's passed 12, Yoongi feels like his day is starting far too early.

But believe it or not, the call from his mother has him feeling better already.

 

There's a knock on the door. It's unexpected, and Yoongi is startled by it. 

He spoons the last of the mushed banana and spinach into Youngjae's mouth before kissing his hair and heading over to the door. The baby whines, reaching his hands out and Yoongi scoffs with a small smile. 

"Yah, stop being so attached to me. I'm coming right back." Yoongi teases as he opens the door. 

He is met with a squealing Jimin who, is not alone. 

"Hyung! We come bearing gifts!" He says throwing a look to Hoseok who, is smiling sheepishly. Yoongi wordlessly lets them inside, his mouth agape. 

"What are you - " 

"Christmas is right around the corner and I want my little JaeJae to be the spoiled prince that he is!" Jimin says as he gleams, placing the large, sparkly gift bags on the floor and bounding over to Youngjae who, is already flailing his arms around and screaming at the top of his little lungs, all of the excitement that has entered the apartment infecting him and making him giddy. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Of course. You would like that, wouldn't you? You would like to see me suffer." Jimin giggles as he picks the boy up and spins him around, Youngjae squealing with glee. Yoongi smacks at Jimin's arm, before stealing his son away.

"Don't spin him. He just ate and I don't want him to get sick." Yoongi scolds. Jimin shrugs before pulling out Youngjae's early Christmas presents. Hoseok helps him and Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief. 

"I could have sworn it was just Halloween." 

"It kind of was." Hoseok says as he pulls out an Anpanman plushie that is almost the size of Youngjae himself. The baby lets out an ear piercing shriek, making grabby hands for the toy. Hoseok laughs as Yoongi winces, the sound being so close to his ear drums.

"Anpan! Anpan!" He cheers. Hoseok hands the plushie over and Yoongi has the honor of being smacked in the face with it as Youngjae flings it around. He turns his head to look his son in the eyes.

"What do you say?" He asks. Youngjae becomes shy, his fat cheeks turning pink as he hides behind the toy. 

"Thank you." He says quietly and both Hoseok and Jimin look like they're about to cry. Yoongi rolls his eyes. 

Idiots, the lot of them. 

"You guys, this is too much." He says as Jimin pulls more and more toys out, Youngjae already abandoning the plushie when he sees a pack of race cars. 

"Hyung," Jimin gives Yoongi a disapproving look, "not to brag or anything but, my parents are ridiculously rich and... I have no need for all the money they send me. Besides, I might not be here for Christmas this year. I've been taking a look at some dance companies and I might have to start my training during the holidays. Plus, Jae isn't the only one who has presents." He says with a devilish smirk. Yoongi can't help but to groan at what was to come. 

Jimin pulls out a sleek, black gift bag. He holds it out. "You can either open it now, or wait until Christmas." Yoongi smiles fondly at the bag. Hoseok takes ahold of Youngjae as Yoongi looks through the bag. He pulls out a black scarf and a beanie to match. Under the accessories, is a leather booklet, intricate, golden designs and plastic gems litter the front of it in a very deliberate, beautiful way. 

Jimin hums. "It's a songbook. You can use it to write your masterpieces, and when you win all of those awards, you can thank me in your speeches." Jimin says with a cheeky smile. Hoseok gasps. 

"Excuse me! He has me to thank too. The book was my idea." Yoongi laughs at the heated and childish exchange as he thumbs through the empty, pearl white pages of the book. He examines and fiddles with the thick scarf and beanie before sighing. 

He puts it all back in the bag.

"Thank you, both. This is... thank you." He settles, not knowing what else he can say to show his gratitude. Luckily, both Jimin and Hoseok have a good handle on how he is as a human being and they take the thanks with more grace than Yoongi can hope for. 

Jimin and Hoseok play with Youngjae as the boy takes turns with each toy one by one. Yoongi does schoolwork, making sure to steal a glance at the three on the floor in the living room, the ends of his lips quirking up tenderly. They watch movies, make hot chocolate, and curl up on the couch when Yoongi is done with his work. Youngjae falls fast asleep in Jimin's lap, his stomach full of warm chocolate and his heart even fuller. Yoongi puts him back to bed and he comes back to the living room, Jimin and Hoseok cleaning up all the toys with tired limbs. 

Hoseok smiles sleepily. "I'm sorry I didn't mention the little get together at the bar, you know, when you dropped Jae off." Yoongi sighs, wishing that Jimin hadn't brought it up to the other. Hoseok didn't need to know of Yoongi's own insecurities. 

"It's okay." He mumbles. Jimin purses his lips as he puts all of Youngjae's toys back in their respective bags.

"And since we know you don't like being left in the dark, we were wondering if you wanted to join us tomorrow?" Yoongi raises a brow.

"Tomorrow?" Jimin nods.

"Gukkie's band is performing at this little café down the street from the school. Wanna come?" He asks. Yoongi raises a brow. "Gukkie?" He questions and Jimin giggles. "Jeongguk." He iterates. Yoongi immediately shakes his head.

"I can't. I don't have anyone to watch Jae and -" 

"Hyung, that's always your excuse. Have him come with! It's a café with sandwiches and tea and coffee. Not a bar. Besides, the set starts at like, five. We won't be out long." Jimin reasons. Yoongi sighs. 

"Do you have anything to do tomorrow?" Hoseok asks. Yoongi shakes his head.

"I mean, not really, no ..." He mumbles to himself, which he immediately regrets because both Jimin and Hoseok heard his dilemma and there's no way in hell he's getting out of this one. 

"See? It worked itself out. Now you're coming." Jimin says with finality and Hoseok just cackles because Jimin knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it.

And he doesn't have any problem with letting everyone know it either.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. 

 

This band better be fucking good or else he's starting a riot. 

 

 


 

 

Ag ust sees the boy after the match.

 

Salty tears leak from his doe brown eyes, his nose and cheeks red as he looks towards the ground, molten lava coating his heart and fueling the angry fire within him. 

 

Yoongi sighs. 

 

"Here kid." He says, handing over some of the money. He couldn't give it all up, he has his son to think about.

The boy looks up with wide eyes, more tears falling before his pupils turn cold, dark. 

"I don't care about the fucking money. I just wanted to win." He says and Yoongi's brows furrow. 

"You won't get anywhere with that kind of thinking. Here? Out here where people are only looking out for themselves? Not giving a fuck about whether you live or die? Nah, it ain't about winning. You cry over it, learn from it, then move the fuck on. You protect yourself and you get better, because believe it or not, I was sitting exactly where you are now, crying my eyes out because I lost to someone who knew more than me. Someone who had experienced more."

Yoongi holds out the wad of won, the boy eyeing it cautiously before taking it into his shaky, nimble fingers. 

He looks up, only knowing of Agust, but seeing Yoongi, interacting with Yoongi.

But all he knows is Agust.

The man smiles softly, his hardened exterior cracking a bit.

"You take that money and do what you gotta do, and the next time I come back here, I want to see you on that fucking stage, and I don't care if you win or lose, you hear me? I just want to see you up there. That's it." 

The boy looks down at the cash, his eyes glossing over once again and his heart racing in his chest. 

 

He looks up to thank the man but, Agust is already gone. 

 

 


 

 

The scarf that Jimin gave Yoongi smells like cinnamon. 

 

It smells like cinnamon and it is spicy as it is sweet. 

Just like Jimin. 

Yoongi doesn't really know where they stand anymore. It wasn't the first time they've used each other, and it probably won't be the last. 

Even so, it feels wrong.

Yoongi feels wrong. 

But at this rate, with how much Jimin talks about his Korean James Dean, it doesn't look like they'll be spending anymore sleepless nights together. 

Hooray.

Yoongi tightens the black knitted scarf around his neck, pulling it over the mask he has covering his mouth. Youngjae keeps slobbering over his own mask, but Yoongi would rather have to wash it every now and again than have the boy catch a really bad cold. He had whooping cough once. To put it bluntly, the sight of Youngjae using a nebulizer broke Yoongi's heart. 

Yoongi adjusts his new beanie, Yougnjae bouncing about in the crevice of his other arm. They're almost at the café when Yoongi makes out Namjoon and Seokjin who are standing outside. He tightens his grip on Youngjae as he picks up the pace. Namjoon hears him approaching and he smiles, his dimples deepening. 

"Hey hyung, and you brought Jae!" He says. Seokjin gasps. 

"My honeybun." He belts, reaching out for the baby. Yoongi tries to bite back a smile but, he fails. He hands Youngjae over and Seokjin starts with the baby talk that grates on Yoongi's nerves. 

Seokjin gives Youngjae little eskimo kisses and Namjoon watches on as if his biggest dreams are coming true right before his very eyes. 

Namjoon is such a lovesick idiot. 

"I'm gonna order us a really tasty sandwich and we're gonna eat it together and have so much fun!" Seokjin says to the boy in his arms who, is giggling and clapping his chubby hands. Yoongi gapes. 

"Oh no you're not." Yoongi makes to grab his son but Seokjin pulls Youngjae away from his father's touch.

"No!" Jin pouts and Youngjae wraps his arms around Seokjin's neck. Yoongi groans. 

"Hyung, you feed him way too much. He won't eat the baby food that he's supposed to eat because you spoil him with that gourmet crap." Seokjin titters.

"That's because that baby formula shit is nasty." Yoongi damn near growls and Namjoon laughs heartily.

"Hyung." He grits. "Do not cuss in front of him please. I swear he heard you call his grandmother a... a cunt,"  Yoongi whispers the swear, "and he wouldn't stop repeating it. I had to bribe him with all kinds of shit so he wouldn't say it to her." 

“Hyung you just said shit.” Namjoon and comments and Yoongi hisses through his teeth.

”Fuck.”

”Hyung!”

”And you say I’m the bad influence.” Seokjin says as he bobs Youngjae up and down.

Jimin and Hoseok pull up and Yoongi has never been more thankful. The two jump out of the car, exchanging hellos and friendly, warm hugs, (everyone having their own little moment with the baby)

They enter the homey looking café and Jimin's giggle can be heard amongst the incessant chatter and clinks of coffee filled glasses. 

"Kookie!" He calls out with a wave of his hand. Said Kookie looks up, his sleeves of ink showing due to the cuffs of his black sweater being crinkled up to his elbows. A guitar is slung across his shoulder and Yoongi can't help to take note of the cliché of a human being standing before him. 

The boy smiles and Yoongi wonders if Jimin ever calls him bunny because that name also seems fairly appropriate, considering the shape of the kid's teeth. 

Jimin jogs over to him, Jeongguk pushing the strap of the guitar back and hugging the smaller of the two tightly. Jimin presses a fierce, closed-mouthed kiss to his lips, Jungkook wrapping his arms around his slender waist before pulling away, gazing at him with stars in his eyes. Yoongi scoffs. 

Lovesick idiots, the lot of them. 

Jeongguk gives the rest of the group a small smile and Yoongi can't help but to feel dissed even though he doesn't care to be. 

"I have to do a sound check real quick. Maybe we can join you guys after?" He says more to Jimin than anyone else. The dancer giggles before pecking him on the lips once more.

"Sure, merde." He wishes and Jeongguk tilts his head inquisitively, his expression playful yet confused. 

"'Merde'?" He asks with the raise of his dark brow. Jimin rolls his eyes before kissing the boy's nose. 

"It means good luck, bunny." Yoongi huffs at the pet name because of-fucking-course.

Jeongguk hums before kissing Jimin one last time. "Okay then, merde." He drawls out, his lips still against Jimin's before making his way to the small platform to be called a stage. Jimin is blushing furiously as he walks back to the group and Seokjin oohs and aahs as he cuddles Youngjae closer to him.

"You always did like the bad boys, huh Jiminie?" He pokes fun. Jimin laughs. 

"I know he looks all... mean and stuff but, he's really not. And he doesn't mean to be rude to you guys. He's very shy around new people. It'll take him some time to warm up to you guys but when he does, I swear he's so sweet." Everyone seems to nod in understanding, except for Yoongi who doesn't care too much. He doesn't see this relationship lasting too long and it would be a shame for them to get too attached to the boy just before Jimin breaks it off. 

They find a table and order their food and drinks. Seokjin bobs Youngjae up and down on his knee, Namjoon playing some sort of made up hand game with the boy, followed by a quick session of peekaboo. Jimin and Hoseok are conversing about school related affairs, and Yoongi doesn't know what to do with himself so, resorts to staring at his americano and swiping his thumb over the condensation on the glass. 

The set is about to start and Yoongi can't help but to feel restless. He's tired, when is he not, but something heavy has settled itself deep in his stomach and it won't leave him alone. The feeling nags away at him, picking him apart piece by piece. 

Yoongi is clueless as to why. 

"Hey, I think we're about ready to start." One of the men from the stage says. The chatter in the crowd begins to die down as the guitars are quickly tuned and the mics are tapped, the thumping sound clear as day. 

"I'm Yugyeom, and I'm the rhythm guitarist for Singularity." The audience snaps rather than claps and Yoongi is already annoyed. Hoseok flicks his arm when he sees that he isn't snapping along. The boy at the stool of the drums raises his hand. 

"I'm Jaeboem and I'm the drummer for Singularity." Snap, snap, snaps.

Jeongguk smiles shyly, his eyes on the wooden floors. "I'm Jeongguk, nice to meet you guys, I'm the lead guitarist for Singularity."

"Yes baby!" Jimin shouts from the audience, the guitarist hiding his face behind his hands. 

The sound of rushed footsteps fill the space as someone from the back room takes center stage. He plants his feet, twisting the mic up so that he can adjust it to his height.

He flashes the audience a boxy smile. 

"Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung. I'm the singer for Singularity." 

His eyes filter through the crowd, the cocoa brown orbs sparkling with excitement and delight. His eyes land on nearly every person in the room. He sees Jimin and Hoseok. He sees Namjoon and Seokjin who, is feeding a piece of his tostu to Youngjae which, makes his eyes go wide.

Because then he starts searching. 

Searching for Min Yoongi.

And when he finds him, his eyes are blank and devoid of color, taking in Yoongi's slack and shocked expression. 

Taehyung giggles into the mic. 

And Yoongi finds it harder to breathe. 

 

Taehyung sings as if his soul depends on it. 

 

His tones are drenched in chocolate and soaked in caramel. His lyrics are undisputable and words flow through his body, his hands moving of their own accord and his eyes closed as he sings song after glorious song. 

Taehyung's voice is divine. 

"This is our last song of the night, thank you guys so much for coming out. We hope you enjoy this one, it's one of my favorites." Taehyung says before Jungkook's fingers trickle along the strings of his acoustic Yamaha. Taehyung takes a moment to look away from the audience, his eyes on the ground and his grip tightening on the mic. 

He clears his throat before taking in a deep breath. 

 

A sound of something breaking
I awake from sleep
A sound full of unfamiliarity
Try to cover my ears but can’t go to sleep

 

Yoongi's stomach swoops dangerously low.

 

The pain in my throat gets worse
Try to cover it
I don’t have a voice
Today I hear that sound again

 

Yoongi finds it hard to speak. 

 

It’s ringing again, that sound
A crack again on this frozen lake

 

Yoongi feels cold.

 


I dumped myself into the lake
I buried my voice for you
Over the winter lake I was thrown

 

Yoongi's body feels heavy.

 

A thick ice has formed
In the dream I shortly went into
My agonizing phantom pain is still the same

 

Yoongi can't breathe. 

 


Have I lost myself

 

He feels lost.

 

Or have I gained you?

 

Yoongi feels lost.

 

Have I lost myself? 

 

He feels found. 

 

Or have I gained, you?

 

 

Yoongi feels found.

 


 

Yoongi doesn't realize he hasn't touched his food until the set it over. 

 

Yoongi was so mesmerized by the sound of Taehyung's voice that he didn't even move. 

"You good?" Namjoon asks, placing a hand on Yoongi's upper arm. He nods dumbly, wanting to verbally affirm Namjoon that he is okay but his mouth is devoid of saliva and his voice is completely gone, like he had been screaming for hours on end. 

Once the band onstage has dispersed, Yoongi knows it's time for him and his son to go. Unfortunately, the world had turned against him, as luck was not on his side and Taehyung seems to be the first one to greet the table. 

The one fucking time he's early for something. 

"Hey." he says, pulling up a chair beside Yoongi who, avoids his gaze. The table smiles and exchanges their own distinct hellos. Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the warmth from Taehyung's side incredibly close and infecting. 

"You guys were great."  Hoseok says, the compliment making Taehyung giggle a bit with a wide grin. 

"Thank you, thank you guys for coming." He responds, and Yoongi can feel the other's eyes on him, as if he's waiting or wanting to say something. Yoongi clears his throat, focusing on his son who, is still picking apart the sandwich that Seokjin has ordered for the two of them. 

Yoongi smiles fondly. 

"I hope it was up to your standards, hyung." Taehyung says, leaning over slightly so that Yoongi knows that these words are for him and him alone. 

And it strikes a chord with him, the way Taehyung addresses him with his sweet, saccharine voice. Hyung sounds so much more glacé coming from between Taehyung's lips. 

And Yoongi still feels found. 

"Yeah, it was." He says, his eyes trailing up to meet Taehyung's who, isn't smiling like he used to. One side of his lip is quirked, his chocolate eyes catching the light in the most magnificent way and making Yoongi's heart flutter in the process. 

This is fucking stupid. 

Fucking stupid. 

Taehyung is too fucking gorgeous for his own good and Yoongi is a little stump of grumpiness and anxiety. 

Why the fuck do they keep meeting outside of class? 

"Really Taehyung-ssi, your voice is incredible." Namjoon says and Yoongi stares him the fuck down for being brave enough to utter something along the lines of what he is thinking. 

"Thank you Namjoon-ssi." Taehyung nods to him gratefully before Youngjae squeals as Seokjin gives him a piece of chocolate from the desert he ordered. 

"See? JaeJae thought you did great too." Seokjin jokes, bobbing the boy up and down on his knee. Taehyung giggles and looks over at Yoongi who, has been staring at the side of his face like a deer in headlights for the past five minutes. He immediately tenses up and looks away, hoping that Taehyung didn't catch him staring like a fucking creep, even though he most certainly did. 

"I see you brought him out tonight. I'm glad, that both of you came, it's fun to see new faces in the audience." Taehyung says. Yoongi huffs, picking at his nails as a faint, awkward smile plays at his lips. 

Taehyung is far too pretty and oblivious to be real in the world. 

It also doesn't get passed Yoongi that Taehyung is glad that they both came. 

Yoongi hums, his attention still locked on his shaking hands. He can no longer trust himself when it comes to looking at Taehyung, as he can not find the strength in himself to look away. 

Taehyung is magnetic. 

Jimin and Jeongguk come from backstage, attached at the hip. Both Jimin and Jeongguk's hair is all in disarray and they have goofy, love-drunk smiles on their faces. Jimin has lipgloss smeared on his chin and Jeongguk has a dopey, grin on his face that contrasts with his entire "bad boy vibe" (As Seokjin had put it)

"Hey." Jeongguk says, his voice completely wrecked. And Jimin of course, Jimin just simply giggles, his fingers curled to his plump lips and no shame whatsoever etched upon his beautiful features. 

Yoongi wants to go home. 

"The music was really good Jeongguk-ssi." Namjoon comments and Seokjin laughs. 

"Yes, Jimin has told us a lot about you but, never has he once mentioned that you play guitar. He has mentioned other things though..." Seokjin mentions with a mischievous smirk. Jeongguk begins to blush furiously as Jimin hides his face in the boy's black t-shirt. Yoongi makes the mistake of rolling his eyes and Taehyung catches the crude unspoken remark, however, instead of making mention of it in a reprimanding way, he simply laughs, offering the other a kind, sympathetic smile. 

And when Yoongi feels his own smile coming on, he fights it. 

"Yoongi-hyung plays piano Kookie. You should get him to join your band." Jimin says with a giggle and Yoongi feels his heart clench at the mere idea of playing beneath Taehyung's sultry and chocolatey voice. 

Said singer (and Yoongi's fucking professor mind you) turns to him, a boxy, gleaming smile on his face that is toothpaste ad worthy. 

"He does, I've heard him and he, he's great." He says and Yoongi's face feels warm. "We have been looking for a piano player Yoongi-ssi, maybe you could join us for a performance or two, one of these days?" He offers and Yoongi makes another fucking mistake. 

He looks up, his eyes caught in the diamonds of Taehyung's. His stomach does a major flip, resulting in him emitting a small gasp that, manages to reach Taehyung's ears only. Upon hearing the slight intake of air, the ends of Taehyung's pretty lips quirk up, a faint sparkle in his eye. 

Yoongi can't stop looking.

"Uhm," He begins but can't finish and Taehyung just so happens to find a bit of joy in the speechlessness, as he hums slightly and looks down at the floor. Yoongi gives a sigh of relief. 

Thank God.

Youngjae hiccups, his hands messy as he chews on the remaining piece of food that Seokjin has given him. Everyone laughs a bit, except for Yoongi who, simply smiles at the boy. 

"Namjoon and I are gonna head out. I have work early tomorrow, as does he." Seokjin says, his eyes narrowed at his boyfriend. Namjoon scoffs. 

"Alright, alright." Namjoon says as Seokjin stands with Youngjae in his arms. He hands the baby over to Yoongi who, immediately has Taehyung's attention. Yoongi groans, as Seokjin has the audacity to feed his son and not clean him up afterwards. 

"Jae..." Yoongi says helplessly as the boy smears more food on his chubby cheeks. Yoongi sighs, a small smile on his face as he reaches for a stack of napkins that are nearly out of reach. Taehyung giggles.

"Hold on, I got it." He says, reaching for the napkins. Yoongi expects Taehyung to hand the napkins but no, of course not, because Taehyung has to make everything so difficult and turn Yoongi's entire world upside down.

So no, instead, the man takes Youngjae's tiny hands into his own and wiping his pudgy digits of any grease and sauce. He coos at the baby as he does so, cleaning his hands properly, as well as his face until the boy is devoid of any food on his being, Youngjae giggling in the process and moving about. Yoongi's eyes are wide the entire time, staring at the man as he wipes his son's face and hands, all with the biggest smile on his gorgeous face. 

Yoongi thinks his heart grows in size. 

"There, all done." Taehyung finishes and Yoongi almost chokes on his own spit. Youngjae squeals, swiping at Taehyung with his hands and the professor's eyes immediately light up. His tan cheekbones turn pink as he looks up at Yoongi and then, back down at the floor, as if he's suddenly nervous.

Yoongi shouldn't be but, he is slightly worried, as the man before him is always so bright and full of energy, not afraid to make a fool of himself in class, just to prove a point. 

Why the sudden change in tune?

"Yoongi-ssi? May I, can I hold him?" He asks shyly, his voice wavering with the slight laugh tacked on at the tail end of the question. Taehyung is afraid to look up and Yoongi somehow wishes he would.

It is then that Taehyung looks up, upon hearing no response. Yoongi's heart skips a beat as he nods, handing his son over to someone who isn't really a stranger but, not necessarily a friend either. 

An acquaintance. 

Yeah, sure.

Youngjae laughs some more, a toothless, gummy smile on his as he curls up on Taehyung's lap. The professor lets out a childlike giggle and Yoongi kind of sort of wants to die. Youngjae's eyes are wide as he reaches out for Taehyung's hands and the man hands one of them over, the other holding the baby's back upright and pulling him in close. Youngjae plays with Taehyung's hands and the baby shrieks as Taehyung makes the goofiest of faces at him, bouncing him up and down and Yoongi doesn't realize he's been staring at the two until Namjoon snorts, breaking him out of his reverie. 

"Yeah... we're gonna go now." He says and Seokjin damn near cackles even though Namjoon is anything but funny with his dorky ass. 

Lovesick, the lot of them. 

The two say their goodbyes and make their way out of the café, hand in hand. Hoseok is next to leave and Jimin stays curled up by Jungkook's side, the younger and tatted of the two speaking to him quietly. Taehyung continues to have the time of his life with Youngjae, and Yoongi wonders what he has gotten himself into.

Because the moment he let Taehyung interact with his son, 

he knew he was fucked. 

 


 

Agust leaves the club.

As broke as he was when he went in.

And even though he doesn't have any money...

 

He feels good.

Real good. 

Because he helped someone's dream to continue on.

 

And that's all he ever really wanted. 

 

To dream.

Chapter Text

 

 

From: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [Potential Collaberation]

To: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Hello Yoongi-ssi.

I was so happy to see you the other day. After we had taken down our setup, I spoke with some of the other members, and we do feel that a very talented pianist like yourself could help us greatly. This isn't a commitment per say but, I would love to hear your thoughts on joining us for a few rehearsals? Just to see how your sound blends in with Singularity's.

You can read sheet music, yes?

Thank you in advance for your time and I look forward to reading your response. 

Sincerely, Prof. Kim

 


 

 

 

Taehyung is the type of man to drink water from a glass jar.

fucking glass jar.

Yoongi can't help the fact that his blood simmers to the point of boiling, so much so, that he claws at his desk and fiddles with his pencils and pens. 

Kim Taehyung is a hipster fuck. 

"I think it's time we start looking into our group assignments. I have already paired you all up, as I can clearly see who you are very close to and who you desire to work with most. I know that we would like to be partnered with our friends but, I want us to expand our thinking, work with those who we might not know and thus, get a better understanding of what we think, by listening to those who might have opposing views.”

Yoongi scoffs.

Professor Kim does this... thing, this, method of teaching where, he uses the term we, a term that makes it seem like the class is “in this together”. That, he, the professor, is right there with them, bearing the brunt of forgettable deadlines and caffeine overdoses.

Yoongi hates that shit.

A few of Yoongi's classmates voice their opinions of disdain with slight grunts and huffs of harsh air. Taehyu-, Professor Kim, giggles and Yoongi bites his lip in order to feel something unpleasant. 

Because Professor Kim's giggle is music to Yoongi's ears. 

Yoongi has had his fair share of group work, and as experienced as he is with it, he can't stand it. 

The process of working with undeserving and overtly privileged young adults makes Yoongi want to peel his skin off. He applied to this program on a whim, not expecting anything to come of it but, as soon as he sent in his video submission and was called in for an in person audition, the email declaring that his tuition would be paid in full came so fast he thought it was spam. 

So when the poor boy from Daegu who had dreams much bigger than his ego was acquainted with his fellow students on campus, you could color him disgusted with the amount of attitude and bravado that these kids had, without the talent to back it up. 

Why the fuck would Yoongi want to work with them?

"I'll put the list up in our class drive so you can start talking with your partners and pulling some ideas together. Until then, I will see you all next week. Have a good day." 

The shuffling of book bags and paper emanates throughout the lecture hall, causing somewhat of an organized ruckus and making Yoongi want to get the fuck out of this hellhole. 

He makes a beeline for the door but, not before bypassing his professor, a slight sense of guilt tinging the outer edges of his heart. 

Yoongi saw the email, and something tells him that Professor Kim knows he saw the email. 

Even so, with a brain riddled with anxiety, Yoongi can only manage to say one thing:

"I saw your email." 

Professor Kim looks up from his desk. He tilts his head a small degree.

"I'm sorry?" He asks and Yoongi gulps. 

"Your email, about, your band... I saw it." A bashful smile graces Professor Kim's beautiful features. 

"Are you interested? We wouldn't be able to pay you much, and I'm sure that with school and work and Youngjae that, things might not pan out right with your schedule but, you're a very talented musician and it would be an honor to perform with you." He says. A faint bout of warmth explodes in Yoongi's chest, cradling his heart and making his whole body tingle with ease. 

Professor Kim remembered his son's name. 

Taehyung knows his son's name.

Yoongi swallows thickly. 

"I..." He licks his lips with the slight shake of his head, hoping the words flow correctly and in order, "I don't care about the money." He says frankly. In Yoongi's defense, conversation never came easy to him, and his thoughts are all in constant disarray, never matching or making sense.

He doesn't know what he wants to say to Taehyung, but, he wants him to know that he feels, something about this whole concept of the uncertainty in his music.

And Taehyung taking into consideration that his sound could be different, too different is somewhat honorable and offensive all at the same time. It's as if his professor isn't understanding of the fact that Yoongi can manipulate his sound, blending in with any and every thing

Professor Kim nods. "Alright, well, if you were available, I would love it if you could join us in rehearsal once or twice, just to play around with some things? I'm not sure if you remember but, we only cover one or two songs. Every thing else is an original piece and so, we would have to write some parts in for you, but - "

"I can do that. That's easy I can compose something, I just need the songs, to... to listen to." Yoongi rushes out, feeling the need to prove himself beneath Professor Kim's kind, coffee tinted gaze. 

The professor hums with closed-mouthed smile. 

"Okay. I don't have any professional recordings of the songs but, our drummer has a little makeshift studio that we use. I could send you the tracks tonight." He says. Yoongi nods, feeling as if he is agreeing to more than what he has bargained for.

"Okay." Professor Kim looks back down at his desk, his smile still evident and pretty.

"Okay, I don't have the time now but, can I email you later with some of our rehearsal dates? If they don't work, you can send me the times that you are available and I'm sure we can work something out. Guk and Yuggy's schedules are pretty flexible but, Bongi-hyung's on the other hand not so much." 

Yoongi has no fucking clue as to who Professor Kim is talking about but, he nods anyway. He can piece together that these are the other members of the band, Guk being Korean James Dean nine times out of ten.

The rest, he'll figure out later. 

"Okay." Is all Yoongi says before whipping around to make a hasty exit. 

"Yoongi-ssi," Professor Kim calls out. Yoongi sighs before making a grave mistake, having turned around to be met with his professor's sparkling orbs, impeccable glistening with light and warmth. 

"Thank you." He says. Yoongi doesn't even bother replying. 

 

He can't even remember the band's fucking name. 

 

 

 


 

Unknown

hi

hello....

can i help you?

oh shit, sorry. this is Minseok

who???

ur partner for the project.

oh.

how did you get my number?

i know jimin

...

of course you do.

just wanted to text you so you have my number and we could start working on the project thing or whatever

ok well... you have my number now so...

yeah, sweet.

hey is jimin seeing anybody right now?

goodbye


 

 

 

The daycare that Seokjin found costs an arm and a leg. 

There is no way in hell that Yoongi is about to pay 100,000 ₩ a day, just so that Youngjae can be tossed around and treated like some ragdoll.

No one can take better care of his son the way she did. 

"Yoongi it's a high quality daycare. They feed him well, and they put him to bed at reasonable times. Not only that, but they let him play and they have specific activities that all of the kids participate in. It's not like they just let him do whatever he wants. He's two for Christ's sake!" Seokjin exclaims. 

Right now, Yoongi is sitting on the couch, Youngjae in his lap as him and Namjoon take turns playing Overwatch. 

So far, they haven't taken control over the point once.

"Agh, hyung, you can't keep switching characters! You have to stay as the person I choose." Yoongi rolls his eyes, his chosen character, Mei, having died. He hands the remote over to Namjoon who, snatches it angrily. 

"Okay first of all, I bought this shit. You'll break the remote if you don't calm the hell down. Second of all, that asshole that shoots arrows is hard as shit. Snipers suck ass." Namjoon barks out a hearty laugh.

"His name is Hanzo you dick." 

"Hey. Stop cussing like that in front of my baby. I don't want him to grow up with a filthy mouth like you two animals." Seokjin scolds as he turns down the heat on the stove. The food he's cooking smells delicious and Yoongi can't help that he's starving. The reason he and Namjoon came over is because Seokjin knows for a fact that Yoongi barely has any food in his apartment.

His milk had expired six weeks ago.

Yoongi looks down to see that Youngjae has already fallen asleep in his arms. 

He kisses the baby's head. 

"He's asleep hyung, he can't hear what we're saying." Yoongi mumbles, knowing it's not an excuse but, never caring for the way others criticize the way he acts around his son. 

Because Yoongi is a damn good father, or at least, he tries to be.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Seokjin says as he makes the plates of food. "Wake my little honeybun up, he needs to eat something." Yoongi hums, rubbing his son's tummy and bouncing him up and down on his knee. The boy giggles sleepily and Namjoon exits the game with a small smile. 

They eat around the coffee table, Yoongi, Youngjae and Namjoon on the floor, Seokjin on the couch like the prig he is. Youngjae is chewing so fast that Yoongi has to pace how much he feeds the baby at a time. Seokjin smiles.

"I love this little boy so much, he deserves the best and nothing but." He says, clipping a piece of meat between his chopsticks and taking a bite. Yoongi smiles. 

Yeah, he does.

"Little man is just like his papa, always sleeping." Namjoon says with a snort. Yoongi kicks him hard in the arm with his sock clad feet.

"Shut the f-, shut up Joon-ah." Yoongi says, biting back a grin. Namjoon chews his food, a dimpled smile on his face. Seokjin clears his throat.

"What is going on with you and that man with the long hair? The really hot one that always wears headbands?" He asks. Yoongi throws his head back with a groan. This catches Namjoon's attention. He raises a brow.

"Hyung, he's not that hot..." Namjoon says sheepishly. Seokjin coos, clasping him and Namjoon's hands together.

"Not as hot as you of course." He says and Yoongi damn near gags.

"Please stop. I'm going to vomit." He says. This makes Seokjin cackle as Namjoon kisses his hand. The young man adjusts his glasses.

"No but for real, who is that guy? Every time he's around it's like you don't know how to function." Yoongi kicks him again.

"Nothing is going on, he's just my professor." Seokjin and Namjoon both choke on their food.

"What?" 

"Are you fucking serious?" 

"Language Joonie!"

"Sorry babe." 

Yoongi snickers. "Yeah, that's why things are so damn awkward but, he's one of those weird hipster types that I can't stand. He drinks water from a jar for Christ's sake, it's annoying and, I don't, I don't know. I don't want to get to know him any more than I do in class." He says, his voice small and barely audible near the end of his words. Namjoon takes a sip of coke. 

"Really? How is that working out for you?" He asks, seeing way past Yoongi's façade of mixed emotions and dreadful thoughts. 

Yoongi looks down at the floor, thinking of the rehearsal that he was soon to attend, the music and the writing...

Taehyung and his voice

Youngjae squirms in Yoongi's arms, begging to be released and free of restraint. Yoongi places him on the floor, letting him crawl on the carpet till his heart is content. The boy crawls over to one of his toys that rests beside Namjoon's feet. He grabs the toy, falling back onto his bottom and waving the toy around. Namjoon hoists the baby into his lap, making a funny noise as he does so and making Seokjin wheeze in delight. 

 

Yoongi still doesn't remember the name of Taehyung's band. 

 

 

 


 

 

It's Singularity. 

 

The name of the band is Singularity. 

Yoongi sees the title on the folder of tracks that Taehyung had sent him and now he can't get the name out of his head. 

What the fuck does it even mean? Originality? The state of being alone? 

Individuality? 

Taehyung sure is a particular individual. 

 

 

And the sound of his voice in Yoongi's headphones only makes him sicker.

 

 

Today, Yoongi is meeting the band for rehearsal.

Jimin has offered to tag along, Yoongi not having signed up with the daycare and having to take Youngjae along with him. Yoongi thinks that Jimin only proposed his services so that he can see his new boy toy of the week but, Jimin will take care of Jae while Yoongi gets more of a feel for the band's sound and how it compliments his own. 

Even though Yoongi can make any sound work.

"I'm working with one of your exes." Yoongi says bluntly with no context at all. Jimin hoists Youngjae up higher into his arms. 

"Huh?" He says before fixing Yoongi with a confused look. Yoongi sighs, gripping his keyboard bag so tight that his knuckles burn white. 

"My partner for this project? Lee Minseok? He texted me out the blue, asking if you were seeing anybody." Jimin giggles with a roll of his beautiful eyes, his plump cheeks pink and Yoongi already knows what Jimin is going to say.

"Awe, Seokums was great but, I've moved on to bigger and better." Yoongi sighs. 

"I really hope you don't mean what I think you mean when you say 'bigger'." This makes Jimin laugh wholeheartedly and Yoongi remembers just how much he loves that laugh.

No matter how different it is from Taehyung's.

They reach the door of the rehearsal space. It's a huge commercial facility, one that is home to a plethora of businesses and barren studios that are available for rent. 

Yoongi rings the doorbell, as Jimin's hands are full of baby and he is too busy playing around with the child to pay attention to anything else. It doesn't take long for someone to buzz them in, the two (well, three) of them making their way inside the building. One of the band members is already waiting for them in the hall. Yoongi doesn't remember his name but he does remember seeing him behind the drum set at the café. 

"Hey." He briskly greets as he starts walking away from them. Jimin supposes that they follow while Yoongi is pissed that all the drummer can say to them is 'hey'. 

Even he himself who can't stand to hold a conversation for more than a minute is more polite than that. 

They are led up a flight of steps and into the tiniest of studios, one with wooden floors and walls that are certainly not professionally soundproofed. 

Jeongguk is already there, sitting atop one of the stereos, his guitar strapped across his back as he talks with who Yoongi remembers is the bassist. Yoongi tries not to but, his eyes immediately scope the room, trying to find the one person he has been trying to avoid outside of his college career.

And there he is, his back turned to the group as he fiddles with something on his phone that is connected to the dingy speaker via aux chord. He is wearing a pair of high-waisted jeans that are a bit open at the ankles. His maroon turtleneck is form fitting underneath the oversized jean jacket that he wears. His sneakers are torn up and beaten and, is he even Kim Taehyung without his signature red headband to match?

The man turns around when he hears Youngjae squealing and the ends of his lips glide upward, his smile unmistakable and gracing to his already beautiful features. 

"Hey, hyung." He says, his voice gruff and almost tired. Yoongi's stomach drops, as he is wary of what makes someone so bubbly like Taehyung exhausted, and what that fucking voice in such a state does to him is quite uncanny. 

Yoongi nods his head in acknowledgement as Jimin practically skips to the guitarist on the speaker, Youngjae still in his arms. Jeongguk's gaze turns soft as his eyes land on the small baby, and the man holding the baby. 

"Hey Minnie..." Jeongguk says and Jimin giggles, kissing the younger's sculpted cheekbone and sitting on the other side of the speaker, Jeongguk having made more room for him.

"That's hyung to you, Ggukie." Jimin chides and Jeongguk wraps an arm around him, pulling him in and being very cautious of the child in his arms. Youngjae babbles, slapping his small hands against Jeongguk's tatted arms, tracing his chubby fingers along the mythical creatures and treacherous hangul that litter his biceps in awe. Jimin hums.

"He likes your tattoos bunny." He says. Jeongguk's cheeks are dusted pink as he looks up at Jimin, their eyes stay locked for a few moments before they look back down at the baby between them.

Yoongi forces himself to look away, subconsciously aware of why the sight of those three hurt, even if it shouldn't. 

"Hyung? You okay?" Taehyung asks, having appeared right beside him. Yoongi is startled, his body jumping slightly as he looks at Taehyung who, backs away from him a good few inches. "Sorry hyung. I didn't mean - "

"No it's, it's fine, uhm, where can I set up? My... keyboard?" Yoongi asks, his eyes darting around the room as he frantically tries to look at anything but Taehyung's kind, brilliant eyes.

He looks at Jimin and Jeongguk again and he kind of wants to die. 

"Uhm, we can..." Taehyung looks around the room for a moment before smiling a bit. "Right there is fine? How big is the keyboard? Will it fit over here?" Yoongi nods, unzipping the bag and pulling out the keyboard itself. He removes the stand and the pedals from the bag before setting up in the corner that Taehyung had motioned to. The professor offers to help but Yoongi refuses, the man's light too radiant and warm to seek comfort in. 

Once the keyboard is set up, Yoongi plugs it in, his fingers plunking a few keys and adjusting the volume to his liking. Taehyung sends him a small smile before calling attention to the group. Jimin steps away from Jeongguk but, not before kissing his cheek once more, taking one of Youngjae's stubby arms and making the boy wave goodbye. It makes Jeongguk laugh, covering his face with a hand that isn't able to conceal his toothy, bashful smile. 

Taehyung smiles. "Guys, this is Yoongi-hyung. He'll be joining us for a few rehearsals, just to see if he would like to work with us, even if only for a couple of performances." Taehyung announces to the room. The others nod, small smiles on their faces as Yoongi shrinks away from all of the attention. He hears Jimin giggle at him before finding a seat on the other end of the room, Youngjae in his arms and already getting a little sleepy. 

 

Practice starts and the band filters through the songs on their set list.

Yoongi came prepared, his own handwritten sheet music to each song on his music shelf and ready to play off of. His fingers cascade along the keys as each song passes, his hands having minds of their own and adding little, random embellishments here and there as Taehyung riffs off of the keys. Taehyung gives him some side eye here and there, giggling into the slightly hot mic every time Yoongi does something technical of his own accord that is to his liking.

Yoongi smiles a little too.

"Fuck man, you're amazing. How'd you write all of this shit?!" The drummer, Jaeboem, as Yoongi learns, says with excitement. Yoongi snorts, although he does feel somewhat held in high regard, unlike usual. 

He shrugs, feeling the weight of Taehyung's chocolate eyes upon him. "I just, I don't know. I listened to the songs a few times and, wrote some parts in for me I guess. I didn't really know what it would sound like till today so... hopefully it was alright." He says. Jeongguk gasps.

"Wait a minute, you wrote all of this stuff out, and didn't know how it sounded until today?" He asks incredulously. Yoongi purses his lips in thought before nodding. 

"Yeah..." Yoongi's eyes wander to Taehyung who, has his lips parted in awe and his eyes squinted a bit, his dark brows furrowed somewhat.

"Holy shit man." Yugyeom says more to himself than anyone else and Yoongi huffs out a sharp laugh before setting up his keyboard. The others pack up their things and Jimin wanders over to Yoongi, Youngjae now limp and fast asleep in his arms.

Jimin wiggles his brows. "Hyung, Taehyungie could not stop looking at you when you played. He even fumbled some of the words on the songs because of you!" He harshly whispers. Yoongi rolls his eyes, feeling his own plump cheeks warm to some degree. 

"No he wasn't." He retorts and Jimin immediately scoffs.

"Oh stop it hyung. You are very good at what you do and everyone knows that, especially Taehyungie. That man loves music and art and you are all of that and more." He says, pulling Youngjae closer to him, the baby's head lolling against his shoulder. 

Yoongi sighs. "It doesn't matter what he thinks of me Jimin. It doesn't even matter if he likes what I did. I'm just doing him a favor." Yoongi says humbly, folding in the last few parts of his keyboard. Jimin shakes his head, a teasing smile playing on his plump, glossed lips. 

"Yoongi, you are one of the most amazing musicians I know. You hear something once and you can play almost the whole thing by heart. You need to stop downplaying what you do because honestly, anyone would be so blessed to play alongside you, and that includes someone like Taehyungie who, literally has the stars in his eyes when he looks at you." 

Yoongi's chest feels as tight as it is warm, his round cheeks a faded rose and his keyboard bag so much lighter in his hand. 

Even so, with the thought of someone like Taehyung on his mind, he can't believe that something this good can be true.

"You call him Taehyungie?" Yoongi focuses on instead, a disgusted and cutely annoyed look on his face. 

Jimin groans. "You're impossible." Yoongi hums.

"Sure I am." 

"Hey," Jeongguk walks over to interrupt, "we're going to eat at this place around the corner, you two want to join?" He asks, his eyes hopeful and more centered on Jimin than Yoongi. 

Jimin smiles and Yoongi scoffs simultaneously. "I'd love to, hyung?" He looks to Yoongi who quickly shakes his head.

"I have to get Jae home. It's already pretty late and I need to enroll him in the fucking daycare that Seokjin found for me." He says. Jimin pouts.

"Hyung, you can't carry Jae and your keyboard on the train. I swear Joon-hyung should have let us take the car. It's way easier and - "

"Jimin, it's fine. Joon-ah needed it for work and I told him it was okay. Besides, I do this all the time. I'm okay." Yoongi assures but Jimin doesn't look the slightest bit convinced. 

"Hyung, let me carry Jae while you take the keyboard." Yoongi sighs harshly, his eyes on fixed on the floor. He hates feeling like a burden, as if he is the one thing keeping Jimin from being young and lively because he is. 

"No I'm really okay. You have fun, I'll be fine." 

"You took the train here?" Taehyung asks, abruptly approaching the two. Yoongi feels his throat constrict. 

"I... yeah but, it's really okay. I'm fine I can take - "

"Let me go with you. I took the train too and, I have work to do. I'm not up for going out tonight." Taehyung says, his tone amiable and kind. Yoongi gulps. 

"It's really okay Taehyung. I can - "

"I know you can but, it's late and, carrying Jae and your keys is too much. Let me carry the piano. It's the least I can do for all you've done for us." Taehyung says, a certain fondness to his voice, as If he actually appreciates what it is that Yoongi has done for him and the band, even if Yoongi feels that it wasn't enough.

He is never enough.

"Okay." Yoongi gives in with a sigh. Jimin makes to hand over the sleeping baby to him but, Yoongi nods his head in Taehyung's direction instead. "Let him carry Jae, I've got the piano." Jimin's brows furrow in annoyance, knowing that Yoongi is trying to carry the heavier object as to make it harder for himself rather than anyone else, something that Yoongi always does.

Still, he does as he's told and hands the sleeping child over to Taehyung who, happily accepts with a giddy smile on his face. Taehyung holds the baby close, every move of his gentle and secure. 

Yoongi can't breathe. 

They bid their goodbyes to the other members of the band before making their way to the train. Taehyung tightens his grip on the child in his arms, adjusting the boy's coat so that he isn't able to breathe in the harsh, cold air. Yoongi tries not to stare too hard but, Taehyung's hold on the child in his grasp is so affectionate and caring that Yoongi can't help but to watch on adoringly, even if it's from his periphery. 

"Rehearsal went very well hyung. The others really love what you did to the songs. They sound so different with you." Taehyung says quietly, as to not wake Youngjae even though the sounds of Seoul are far too loud to dismiss.

Good thing Youngjae can sleep through an earthquake. 

Yoongi shrugs. "I'm glad they liked it. It wasn't much but, it was something." 

"It was more than just 'something' hyung. They're not even the same songs anymore. They sound better, so much better." 

Yoongi smiles slightly before allowing his pouty lips to curl back down into their normal, solemn position. 

Not to mention the fact that his own professor referring to him as hyung makes Yoongi feel as if the world is off balance. 

"Sure Taehyung." Yoongi mumbles to himself. He hears Taehyung intake a sharp breath.

"You shouldn't do that hyung." Yoongi looks up.

"What?" Taehyung sighs. 

"You, you do it in class as well." 

"What? I do what?"

"You, you say things to make it seem like what you're doing isn't important, like it's not enough when in fact what you do is more than enough hyung." 

Taehyung's words are harsh. They burn a fire down Yoongi's throat as he tries to swallow them. 

Because it's true.

He is never enough.

Yoongi bites his bottom lip, the two of them walking down the steps and onto the platform of the train.

"We're not in class right now Taehyung. I don't need a lesson from you." He replies, resorting to anger because it's quicker and easier than trying to spare fucking feelings and shit.

Taehyung's jaw clenches. "You do it in class to hyung."

"Taehyung - "

"Hyung I literally see you give up on yourself in every class. I'll ask a question and I just know you have the answer but as soon as someone raises their hand after you, I just see it, in your eyes. You put your hand down hyung, even when your contributions to the class are so much more than enough. You get everyone to thinking in all the right ways, but only if nobody else has something to say. You can't give up on yourself like that hyung, you're not helping anyone when you do that." 

Yoongi scoffs. "I don't have to help anyone."  Taehyung smiles. 

"But you do." Yoongi's brows furrow, already more than irritated.

"I'm sorry?" Taehyung giggles. 

"You help everyone in need. You could have ignored my email and for a while, I thought you would but, you didn't. You came to me and you told me what you could do, without me needing to ask.” Their train comes and Taehyung fixes Yoongi with a look.

”People need to hear the music you make, but most importantly, they need to hear what you have to say, because what you say matters.”

 

Yoongi still doesn’t feel like he’s enough.

But at least someone else feels like he is.

 

People send the pair strange looks, more often than not, disgusted ones from the older, male crowds around them. The looks make Yoongi nervous, as if their entire car is uncomfortable with two men and them holding a child, talking. They're not even together in that way but, that doesn’t seem to matter.

Yoongi wishes they knew the half of it.

Even so, Taehyung pays them no mind, holding Youngjae close and bouncing him up and down every now and again. 

Yoongi envies his bravery.

The jittery movement of the train car doesn’t jar Youngjae awake one bit, and Yoongi makes to stand closer to Taehyung and his son as more people enter the car.

Taehyung looks down at him, the older of the two being shorter and smaller in stature. Taehyung smiles with a hum, moving closer to Yoongi so that their sides are pressing into one another. Yoongi shivers, Taehyung’s warmth inviting and zipping a chill down his spine. 

More and more people pack the car and Yoongi is pushed into Taehyung’s side. Yoongi sets his keyboard upright, the bag leaning into his leg and the swaying of the car making him, lean more and more into Taehyung. Yoongi swears he hears Taehyung chuckle, his breath tickling Yoongi’s forehead and making him even more cold, despite the fact that Taehyung’s body is so warm.

Yoongi’s snow pale cheeks have blossomed into a beautiful shade of red, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and his hands almost shaking as they curls into his stomach. 

Youngjae is sandwiched in between the two of them, their coats ruffling as Yoongi’s brain plays tricks on him, making him think that Taehyung keeps shuffling closer into him.

Thankully, their stop is here and the three wriggle themselves free of suits coming home from work.

Yoongi’s flat isn’t too far a walk and the pianist is happy that this is the case, as an awkward silence has enveloped the trio as they travel. Well, perhaps it isn’t as awkward as Yoongi feels, considering the soft smile upon Taehyung’s thin lips. Youngjae is stirring awake in Taehyung’s hold, the little boy whining and shaking his head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. 

The professor laughs. “I think he wants you to hold him.” Yoongi rolls his eyes with a little smile playing on his pouty lips.

”No, he wants to walk but I’m not letting him till we get inside.” Taehyung giggles, hoisting the boy up against his chest and patting his back. 

“You okay little one?” Taehyung asks with a boxy smile. Youngjae yawns, blinking his tired and pressing his cheek into Taehyung’s shoulder. The boy groans and Taehyung giggles again, the sound making Yoongi’s stomach squirm uncomfortably. 

“He’s had a long day but he’ll be awake soon enough.” Yoongi says, his voice dull and not in the least bit excited for playtime tonight.

Maybe he can call Hoseok over.

They reach the stoop of Yoongi’s apartment building and Yoongi takes Taehyung into his own arms. Yoongi feels like something is pulling at him, forcing his feet to stay in place even though he knows he needs to leave.

He turns to Taehyung who, has his hands in his coat pockets, his focus on Yoongi and unwavering in every sense of the word.

Yoongi swallows.

”I, thanks, you didn’t have to but, thanks.” He mutters, looking away from Taehyung and down the block. He knows his cheeks are burning red, he can feel it and he knows Taehyung can too. 

But instead, his professor doesn’t make mention of how the cold affects them, or how Yoongi is an awkward stub of a human being who doesn’t know how to talk to people or, how to just be, but no. He does none of that.

He does nothing but smile.

He smiles and he smiles.

And he smiles.

And he says: 

“I haven’t done anything different from what you would have done hyung.”

Yoongi scoffs.

”Then you really don’t know me, professor.” 

Taehyung giggles, again.

“Okay hyung. Goodnight.” He bids. 

Yoongi tightens his grip on the boy in his arms.

”Goodnight Taehyung.”

 

And now,

 

Yoongi feels warm, and found and maybe just a little bit like he’s enough.

 


 

If Professor Kim were a cup of coffee, he'd be sugary sweet.

 

 

His ins and outs would be that of a caramel candy, laced with mocha and dashed with the candiest of creams. 

 

 

Kim Taehyung would be a very sweet cup of coffee.

 

 

Too sweet for Min Yoongi to handle. 

Chapter Text

 

 

 

 

project partner

did you do your part yet?

what?

the part... for the project... did you do it?

oh

no not yet but, I got you after this class

... okay ...


With Jae being back over at his grandparent's house, Yoongi was able to pick up a few extra shifts at work. 

 

It wasn't that Yoongi wanted to work, however, there was nothing much else to do, besides schoolwork and, Singularity. 

Yoongi has attended a few more rehearsals since their very first collaboration and surprisingly, a lot of progress has been made. Yoongi compliments the band's sultry, laid back sound, he just does. He makes it seem like the band is actually doing something, like they're actually putting effort into their music, rather than simply riding the waves of drunken singalongs and drug high aesthetics. Yoongi's intricacy and detailed melodies create a much more complicated soundtrack to what the band already has at the forefront of their sound, and Yoongi can't help to be proud of what he has done. 

As is Taehyung, and he makes sure that Yoongi never forgets it. 

"Yoongi-ah," Seokjin calls out as he flips through the books, something that is usually Namjoon's job however, the lawyer-in-training is dealing with a very complicated case that could get him in-the-know with some high people in rather high places. 

"What?" Yoongi responds with a sudden sharpness that makes Seokjin give him an irked look.

"Do you not realize that I am your elder and your boss? Do you forget? Or do you just not care?" Seokjin asks as Yoongi approaches him. The pianist shrugs.

"It's honestly a mixture of both, as I have terrible memory and you certainly don't act like my elder." Seokjin scoffs before giving Yoongi a half-hearted smack in the shoulder. 

"That's a lie. You hear a song one time and can play it by heart. 'Terrible memory' my ass." Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"You sound like Jimin."

"Jimin is usually right."

"Incorrect but that's neither here nor there. What do you want." Seokjin sighs, knowing that Min Yoongi, very much like an old man, is set in his ways and can not be changed. 

"I have a question for you." 

"I have an answer."

Seokjin chuckles before straightening the menus by tapping them on the desk into a neat stack. "How do you feel about playing with a singer?" 

Yoongi's stomach jolts.

He plays it off as smoothly as he can but, he begins to feel dizzy, finding the need to busy his hands and feet as to not make a complete ass of himself.

"Depends. If they’re tone deaf or some shit like that then we have a problem. Do you have someone in mind?" Yoongi asks, his voice on edge and forced. He’s damn near on the brink of a breakdown and the only thing keeping him grounded is the fact that his nails are digging into the pale heel of his hands, causing red crescent moons to decorate his skin. Yoongi’s eyes are locked on the dust specks on the floor. He feels the utter need to sweep again.

Seokjin shrugs. "Well, Jiminie told me about your rehearsals with that teacher of yours? And his band?” Seokjin says as he flits through the menus, re-stacking them and tucking them into the podium. Yoongi’s throat feels far too dry for his liking as he tries to swallow down the sand that has collected in his throat. He should have seen this coming but alas, he hoped that some other forces were at play here. 

”I mean, he's fine but... he’s probably busy.” Yoongi settles, knowing damn well that Taehyung is more than fine. Seokjin nods with pursed lips.

”Have you asked him?”

”No.” Yoongi wipes his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “Do I have to.”

Seokjin snorts. “That’d be preferred, yes.”

”Why don’t you ask him?”

”Okay, give me his number.”

”I don’t have it.” 

"Jesus Christ Yoongi..." Seokjin groans before spotting a nicely dressed couple walking in through the front door. He puts on a gorgeous smile, one worthy of magazine covers. He gives Yoongi a quick glance.

"Can you just ask him? For me? If not it's fine, it's just, we've been getting a lot of requests from the patrons. Not only that but you know how Mr. Kim is. He just wants everyone to be pleased and honestly, that's not really my forte so, just come up with something? Please?" He asks, fixing Yoongi with his pleading, sparkling brown orbs that would make any man kneel before him and kiss his feet. 

Yoongi is not one of those men. 

"I'll see what I can do hyung, but no promises." He emphasizes before Seokjin begins to gleam. He turns to the couple who is now at the podium, menus in hand. 

"Hi, welcome to Ossu, table for two?" 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The next time Yoongi sees Jimin, he has purple hair. 

 

The roots are still a bit pink from a previous dye job but, sprouts of violet and periwinkle bloom sporadically throughout the thin strands of hair, creating a beautiful ombre of ornate. 

They are in rehearsal, Jimin sitting atop Jeongguk's lap as they both share a blunt, blowing the pungent smoke out the window before them. Youngjae is luckily at daycare and Yoongi has his empty pockets to show for it.

"Blow that shit out. You could get us all thrown out of here." He says to them as he adjusts the controls on his piano. He hears Jimin giggle, the lovely sound muffled by the leather of Jeongguk's jacket. 

"Hyung relax. Want some?" He offers, holding out the blunt in Yoongi's direction. The pianist rolls his eyes as Jeongguk brings Jimin in for a smoke filled kiss, one that has the smaller of the two reeling from the taste of marijuana in his lungs, and the feeling of the guitarist's soft, sensual lips. 

Yoongi scoffs. "No thanks. I don't need my lips touching that thing, especially when you two have been sucking on it all day. I don't want to even think about what you two have been doing." This earns a laugh from the boys as they exchange lazy kisses and passes of the blunt. The sight annoys Yoongi for many reasons, some unknown, others too blatant to ignore, however and most importantly, the sight of them makes Yoongi feel empty, hollow even. It makes something so green and thick in his stomach churn so violently that he feels that there is no means of escape. As if he has fallen down a deep, dark hole and can't get out, no matter how hard he tries. 

Yoongi turns his back on them, readjusting the settings of his keys even if there is no need for that anymore. His skin is all too warm, his hands having minds of their own as he tries to cloud his own brain with thoughts of music and the phantom feeling of his fingers pounding against the black and white keys. 

Taehyung should be back soon, yes? 

Taehyung is a good distraction. Not only is the line between professionalism and companionship blurred between them, but the other man is utterly ridiculous. He is clumsy and loud. His actions are spontaneous and his words are random and even in the right order, they seem to make no sense.

Overall, Kim Taehyung is weird as fuck

The door to the rehearsal space opens and Yoongi gives a loud sigh of relief, not bothering to quiet himself for the sake of the two lovebirds behind him. They probably can't even hear him underneath the smack of their lips and the tossing of tongues. 

Taehyung walks in, carrying two plastic bags, one filled with fried chicken and the other, containing two large litres of soda. Behind him are Yugyeom and Jaeboem who, aren't carrying shit, just talking and laughing about something that Yoongi doesn't care to know nothing about. It makes him quite mad actually, and he moves to grab the bag of food from Taehyung who, looks up at him, somewhat surprised and endeared all the same. 

He smiles. "We brought food and stuff. I know we said we'd bring just snacks but, we felt we deserved more of a break since we've been practicing non-stop." Taehyung says, again, resorting to the term we even though the other two idiots behind him aren’t helping him carry shit.

Yoongi nods, slightly annoyed with how kind and giving Taehyung is. He's the kind of person to say that the glass is half-full rather than half-empty, and Yoongi doesn't normally like those kind of people, more like he can't stand to even be near them but, it's weird. 

The world revolves around Taehyung, as he is the Sun, the never ending beam of light that draws people in, never to be seen or heard from again as they are in a better place. 

If Yoongi were to be a planet, he'd be Pluto. Never mind that Pluto isn't a planet as, that's kind of the point. 

"This is a lot, you should have told me, here." Yoongi chides as he makes to grab his wallet from his coat pocket. Taehyung chuckles before grabbing ahold of the other's wrist. His hand is cold as it's freezing below outside but, somehow the ice surrounding Yoongi's own skin melts at the touch and causes his pulse to spike uncontrollably. 

Yoongi gulps. "What - "

"It's fine hyung, it's only chicken. It wasn't that much." Taehyung says before scolding at Jeongguk and Jimin to stop smoking. Yoongi scoffs.

"I'm the hyung, I should pay." Yoongi argues. Taehyung rolls his eyes.

"Fine then hyung, you got me next time, okay?" Taehyung replies as he sets up the food, Yoongi's own words going in one of his ears and out the other. 

Next time sounds so unforeseen, instantaneous as the way Taehyung says it almost means nothing to the young college professor. When will next time come? Was next time a joke? Was next time for certain? 

Yoongi almost hopes there never is a next time, but his very heart betrays him at only the sound of the word.

The rest of the bandmates grab their food, piling the chicken onto their plates and filling their cups with fizzy soda. Yoongi sits by his piano, the rest of the band gravitating towards one another or more specifically, around Taehyung. The man is a natural born leader, a charismatic, enviable man of so many words that Yoongi doesn't bother to comprehend. Taehyung has a knack for everything and Yoongi doesn't know how someone so clueless and naïve can grasp the attention of the poorest of souls. 

Yoongi picks at his chicken. It's really good and as hungry as he is, his brain is triggered with thoughts of class. The term is soon to end and he has no idea what he's going to do with his life, period. His composition class is an easy A of course but, the pieces he creates are mostly to pass, not to actually make something of his future. 

The unfortunate truth is, the words of his mother are starting to get to him. Music is his life but, is that enough? Will it ever be enough? More importantly, what about his son? Can Music provide more than enough love for the two of them?

The answer to this question is more than clear but, Yoongi can't bring himself to listen, as he will most certainly die if he finds himself a stable 9 to 5 that brings him nothing but grief. 

Because anything without Music in it will cause nothing but grief. 

"Hyung?" Is all Yoongi hears before a warmth envelops his side. He turns to find Taehyung sitting beside him, the others left to their own foolish devices. 

Yoongi picks at his food. "What?" 

"Is something wrong?" He asks. Yoongi eyes him up and down, his gaze falling onto Taehyung's bowl of murky looking soup. He frowns. 

"That's not chicken." He says. Taehyung's lips part slightly before he looks down at his bowl. He chuckles. 

"No, it's not."

"Why not?"

"I'm vegan." 

Yoongi's face scrunches up as if he's sucked on a lemon.

"Ugh."  He utters before taking a full on bite of the meaty, savory, smoky piece of chicken on his plate. Taehyung laughs. 

"You don't seem too surprised." He says and Yoongi shrugs. 

"Because 'm not." He says as he chews. Taehyung raises a brow.

"Why not?" He asks. Yoongi shrugs once more.

"I mean, you just seem vegan." He says. Taehyung tilts his head.

"How does one 'seem' vegan?" He asks. Yoongi groans. 

"Look, I don't know, okay? You just do." Yoongi settles on before taking another bite. Being in Taehyung's presence is exhausting, thus, making him hungry with every passing minute. 

Taehyung smiles. "Fair enough." He says before spooning some of the soup into his mouth. "So then something is wrong then?" Taehyung concludes, the only confirmation needed being Yoongi's sour attitude. 

Yoongi sighs. "No, well, not something I can really fix." Yoongi stuffs some more food into his mouth. "You could have paired me with a better partner, you know, one that actually does shit." He says in between chews. His words are a bit hard to hear, with his pouty lips and puffy cheeks stuffed with food and all. Taehyung giggles, his gaze sympathetic and soft. Everything about Taehyung is soft. His skin looks it, all tan and flushed with flecks of gold. His hair looks fluffy too, all light and brown, tucked neatly beneath a royal purple beret. It's very Taehyung-esque and Yoongi wonders if the man has one of those hats in every color, the same with those headbands and bandanas that he wears. 

His clothes are all oversized and rugged looking, his tan khakis rolled at the ankles and revealing his strangely patterned socks. One has orange polka dots and the other has red stripes. The entire look is just wrong in and of itself and yet, Taehyung knows how to make it look nothing but right. 

What the fuck. 

Taehyung sips some more of his soup before taking a gulp of water (from a jar). A smile plays on his wet lips and Yoongi thinks he feels a bubble of sweat forming on his brow. 

"Minseok always has a lot to say in class. His views are very... well, let's just say he never has any reasoning behind his beliefs but, he has good intentions, even if everything he says is invalid and quite stupid." Taehyung says before slurping more of his soup into his mouth. Yoongi snorts. 

"I don't think a professor should say those kinds of things about their students." Yoongi says before coughing into his fist. Taehyung shrugs. 

"He's not here, is he?" 

"No but, does that really matter?" Yoongi asks. Taehyung hums.

"If you report me to the dean you have no proof."

"Jesus ... " Yoongi berates before shaking his head in disbelief. Taehyung giggles melodically, his bowl of soup bouncing in his lap and making Yoongi quite nervous. 

The teacher clears his throat. "If things blow up in your face, let me know. I'll make sure he is penalized for not doing his part of the work." Yoongi looks up at the man, the other happily slurping away and paying him no mind. Yoongi's brows furrow, really having no other words to say, which is a rare occurrence for the grumpy father of one. 

Yoongi may be quiet yes but, it's not because he has nothing to say, it's because he just doesn't care to say it. He doesn't have time to conjure up the energy to pay his respects or state his peace. He never really gives a shit but right now, in this moment, he's quite speechless.

"Oh, well, good." He murmurs before eating the rest of his chicken with a solid, troubled pout. 

Taehyung nods. "I think this will be good for you hyung. You and Minseok are nothing alike, almost polar opposites. I'm excited to see what you two come up with." He says. Yoongi sighs.

"Of course you are."

"Agh, TaeTae, I have to get back to work soon. Can we get started?" Jaeboem says, his voice gruff and agitated. Yoongi wants to snap at the drummer, to let him know that time doesn't revolve around his busy work schedule but, Taehyung beats him to it.

"Sure thing hyung. Let's finish up, okay?" He looks to the others who nod, albeit reluctantly. Yoongi rolls his eyes before throwing his plate away and making to stand behind his keyboard. 

 

Taehyung is many things, and being an easy mark is one of them. 

 


 

"No Jae, no." 

Youngjae whines as he reaches for a container of glazed cakes on the shelf. Yoongi made the mistake of turning down the baked goods aisle. Unfortunately, the next aisle is the candy aisle and although Yoongi would love to forego his son throwing a temper tantrum in the grocery store, Yoongi has himself to think about and feels the need to satisfy his unconventional and random aching sweet tooth. 

"Let him get the cakes. He likes them." Namjoon pressures on which, makes Yoongi almost lose his shit. 

Because Namjoon isn’t even paying any fucking attention. He’s on his goddamn phone.

"Absolutely not. If I get him those then we need to put back the tarts and if he sees me do that, he'll scream his little head off." He says before pushing forth the cart and ignoring the kicks that Youngjae rails into his stomach. The boy is sitting in the baby carrier that the seat provides and Yoongi is so tired that he can't see straight. 

Yoongi ruffles Youngjae's hair before kissing his head. "We got you enough treats, now stop kicking me."

Namjoon chuckles before tossing another milk caramel candy into his mouth. "Good call hyung.” he says as they continue shopping down the aisle, well, Yoongi is shopping. Youngjae is being quite bratty and Namjoon is just being an ass.

Namjoon pops another candy into his mouth. "So when did you start liking dudes?" He asks, making Yoongi almost choke and stub his toe against the wheel of the court. 

"What... Namjoon." Yoongi grits before Namjoon starts to laugh heartily. 

"What hyung? There's nothing wrong with it. You're friends with a dude dating a dude, not to mention that you are also a dude."

"I'm sorry I'm confused, are you the dude dating a dude? Or are you the dude that I'm friends with... as a dude?" This makes Namjoon throw his head back and cackle. 

"It doesn't matter. All I know is that you like dudes too." 

"NamJoon."

"Hyung, we all know. We see how it is with Jiminie and Jeongguk. You can't deny it." 

Oh.

Oh.

Yoongi didn't know what to expect but, it certainly wasn't that. 

"Namjoon..." 

"How many times are you gonna say my name hyung?" The dimpled man says with smile that says something so much more than what Yoongi suspects. 

"Joon I'm not talking about this with Jae here." Yoongi says with disdain, pulling a box of choco flakes from the shelf. It’s true, he doesn’t want to talk about it but, just hearing the name of Yoongi’s kryptonite releases the flood gates. "It doesn't even matter anymore. It don't matter how I feel. Jimin, he... it's not like we were together or some... and he knew that. Jimin knew that and so... he met Jeongguk and now... it doesn't matter. I don't see it lasting too long." Yoongi says. Namjoon hums.

"Hyung, Jimin has been with Jeongguk for about two months now, and that's a new record for Jimin."  Namjoon says as he crinkles the bag of empty candies in his hand. Yoongi rolls his eyes, Youngjae playing with the zipper of his jacket. 

"Just watch." 

"I am watching hyung, and I'm watching you fall apart." Yoongi chuckles bitterly. 

"Joon stop." 

"Hyung you're waiting for Jimin to get his little fix, push Jeongguk to the side and then come back to you when in reality, that doesn't look like it's going to happen any time soon." Yoongi stops the cart, turning to fix Namjoon with a dare defying look.

"Namjoon what does this have to do with anything?  Jimin has nothing to do with this." Yoongi says. Namjoon nods.

"You're right, he might not, but she does." 

Yoongi's heart stops. 

His gut wrenches. He has to force his feet to move, the cart moving even slower and slower as they arrive at the checkout aisle. Yoongi bites his lip as he starts putting the items in his cart on the conveyor belt. He looks down at the small child before him, just another painful reminder of her.

"It's not going to last." He whispers to himself. Namjoon scoffs sadly.

 

"I'm sorry hyung, but even if it doesn't, just like Jimin found his somebody, it's time for you to find your somebody." 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

From: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [Performing At Ossu]

To: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Hello Professor.

My boss is interested in having a singer perform at the restaraunt on certain occasions. He wants to know if you would be available to attend some dates. I have attached his number below so feel free to reach out to him and not me if you are interested.

Sincerely, Min Yoongi

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

 

From: [ktaehyung@saenauni.edu]

Subject: [RE: Performing At Ossu]

To: [myoongi@saenauni.edu]

Hello Yoongi-ssi.

This sounds like an amazing opportunity. I will reach out to him as soon as I can. Thank you kindly.

Sincerely, Tae

 


Youngjae likes to repeat things.

Everything.

Currently, Youngjae is lying on Yoongi's chest, the two playing some made up hand game that Yoongi has no idea as to what the rules are. 

Good thing Youngjae does. 

Jimin is lying on the other side of the bed. He won't shut up about Jeongguk and how utterly perfect the kid is and Yoongi feels in dire need of oxygen. The two have been dating for quite some time now, so long to the point where Yoongi might not see an end in sight. The thought terrifies him, as Jimin was never able to hold anything down like this, something so stable and secure. In a way, his insecurities and false hopes had become Yoongi's safety net, and now, that very net has been torn apart, all because Jimin couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to let Jeongguk pass him by without a second thought. 

"And the morning sex? Ugh, hyung, it's just great." Yoongi sticks his tongue out in disgust. 

"Morning sex is disgusting."  He says as he clamps his hands over his baby's ears so that the poor child's isn't innocence isn't diluted into nothing. 

"What?! Why?" Jimin exclaims with a petrified look on his face. Yoongi scoffs. 

"Why? First of all, morning breath? Neither of you have brushed your teeth. Not only that but you haven't even taken a shower! All the sweat and must from the night before is all tangled in the sheets and it's just... unhygienic as all hell..." Jimin sits up from the duvet. 

"And that's why you put a pack of mints on the nightstand so you could just pop one in there and get going!" 

"Oh my God."

Jimin giggles and Youngjae joins along, patting his hands against his father's bigger ones that are gently placed along the sides of his chubby face. Yoongi picks the boy up, creating the sensation of flight as the baby in his hands squeals with delight. Jimin watches on in glee, his chest warm and his limbs loose as he watches the sight with pure joy. 

"How is band practice going?" He asks. Yoongi shrugs before placing his son back to his chest. The baby squirms before rolling over to his side and falling clumsily to the duvet below with a tiny oof. Jimin begins tickling him, the small boy's loud squeals and giggles not really grating on Yoongi's nerves like they should. 

"It's fine I guess, don't you... oh right. You haven't been there. Why is that? I thought you and James Dean were inseperable." Jimin makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that sounds like a choke mixed with a chortle.

"James... hyung." Jimin questions, teetering on the verge of incessant laughter. "You're so old." 

Yoongi scoffs. "If all I had to do to keep you around was play guitar and get tons of tattoos I would have done it ages ago."

The second the words spill from Yoongi's lips, he immediately regrets them. Not only was it a joke made too soon, but it was a joke that shouldn't have been made, period. 

Yoongi can't even bare to look Jimin in the face. Yoongi wants to run and hide but this is kind of his apartment although, he's not really paying for it, Youngjae's parents are. 

Despite the fact that they can't stand his guts. 

And now that an awkward silence has enveloped the room with no remorse, Yoongi can't help but to feel like he is suffocating. Jimin has long since stopped tickling the little boy curled into his sides, and Yoongi is actually considering the consequences of snatching his son up and making a run for it. 

Jimin sighs. "Hyung that's not... you know that's not why it stopped." He says, and it's true. Yoongi does know who was really at fault and who wasn't, however, there is no need to get into such semantics anymore, as what's done is done and Yoongi doesn't have time for it anymore. They were both a lot younger and stupid and far too brave for their own liking.

It was a time when Jimin felt invincible and Yoongi had nothing to live for. 

You know what they say, the opposite of love is indifference. 

Yoongi doesn't feel too in tune with his body anymore. He kind of wants to curl up in a ball and cry. He also wants to punch a hole in a wall. As you can see he has a plethora of emotions to explore. However and, much to Yoongi's dismay, Jimin keeps talking.

"Hyung you broke up with me." 

Yoongi's feels parched for something other than water. 

"I broke up with you because you cheated on me."

"That's not the only reason why you broke up with me hyung." 

Yeah, Yoongi could definitely punch a wall right about now. 

"I didn't―"

"You never actually liked me hyung, at least not like that. I was the first person who came to you after..." Jimin trails off, knowing damn well he's treading on thin ice, more like violent waters, waters that lay rest to storms and dangerous weather. 

Jimin knows the intent behind his words, as does Yoongi.

But Yoongi just doesn't want to hear it.

"Get out." Jimin's body stills.

"Hyung―"

"Jimin get out."

Jimin can't help but to contort his beautiful face into a vexatious scowl. Even so, he obeys without another word and Yoongi stays where he is. He can hear the shuffling of Jimin's bag and jacket before the door creaks open, shutting closed with fierce tenacity.

Yoongi is tired. 

"Sex." 

Yoongi's blood runs cold. He turns to look at the baby on the bed. 

"What, what did you just say?" 

Youngjae giggles. "Sex." Yoongi groans. 

Yoongi is going to kill Jimin, well, if they can ever fix this.

 


 

It's Sunday and Sunday means laundry day in this house. 

Yoongi has just washed and dried his two bins of clothes, Youngjae's onesies all strewn about and mixed in with little to no organization whatsoever. 

Jimin hasn't responded to any of Yoongi's texts, and it's not like he doesn't understand why. He would probably do the same if someone had shamed him for who he was with or rather, what he had done. 

Yoongi loves Jimin, and Jimin loves Yoongi. This is a simple fact, something undeniable, crystal clear for all the world to see. Jimin and Yoongi balance each other out in the sense that Yoongi is nothing and Jimin is everything. Jimin was the glorious orange sun, bathing in the ocean and dancing along the shores of a beach. Yoongi was the drabby, dark and lousy image of the moon. There is no dancing to him, no songs of joy.

It's true, Jimin was the first person that Yoongi had confided in, even before Namjoon, mainly because Jimin was always there and Yoongi had no one else to turn to, no one to talk to.

Everything changed when Hyojin died, and Yoongi...

Yoongi didn't know what to do.

Walking upstairs with two baskets full of heavy, warm clothing is a pretty trying task for someone so... small. Even so Yoongi does all he can, packing the clothes in tightly, as quickly and efficiently as possible before making his way up to his floor. Along the way, the front door is opened and in walk a few young men, men holding cases of beer and plastic bags filled with junk food.

Yoongi sees a very similar purple beret, alongside a pair of dangly earrings and two, mismatched, different colored socks.

Oh dear Lord.

Yoongi hopes the man is not who he thinks he is. No matter how hard he tries, there is absolutely no way that he is going to make it past this man without calling some sort of attention to himself. If this just so happens to be the man that Yoongi is so desperately trying to avoid outside of class and band practice, what the hell is he doing here? Does he remember that one of his students lives in this building?

Does he even care?

"Taehyung, did you pull the car around?" Someone asks from a floor above and now that Yoongi knows what he knows, it's time to book the fuck out of here. He tries to shimmy past the men and use the laundry bins to hide his face but, he is far too late, as fate has other plans for the tiny pianist. 

"The car? Ah shit, I didn't know you were trying to leave now. Hold on I'll... Yoongi-ssi?" Taehyung says, his voice wavering as if he is finally piecing the ugly pieces together. The smaller of the two who just so happens to be carrying two heavy baskets of clothes, gulps. 

"Uhm, hi." Is all Yoongi manages to squeeze out before being caught in Taehyung's hypnotizing gaze. Yoongi thinks that now is a good time to dip out as the other is quite silent, however, Kim Taehyung would never let him off that easy.

"What are you... oh damn, this, this is your place, isn't it?" He asks with a smile. Yoongi nods shakily.

"Yeah it... yeah." He grumbles before his arms turn to jello and he has to put one of the baskets down on the first step of the stairway. Yoongi wants to know why Taehyung is here, but he doesn't exactly want to ask. It's not that he has a problem with the other man's presence per say, it's just his entire existence fumbles with Yoongi's whole outlook on life and if that could actually not happen, then that would be great. 

Thankfully, Kim Taehyung is a mind reader, either that or he's very perceptive and he begins answering Yoongi's burning questions. 

"Yugyeom? He has a friend that lives here and it's his birthday. We're just celebrating tonight." He says, and Yoongi's jaw visibly clenches because of course that out of all the artist flats near his college campus, he had to pick one where a colleague of Taehyung's lives. The idea isn't too far fetched, considering the fact that many, like Yoongi, chose their school based on convenience. He supposes that Taehyung himself, might also live pretty close. 

The thought of that is quite scary.

"How is Jae doing?" Taehyung asks. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but, he doesn't really know what to say. The boy is of course doing okay, Yoongi makes sure of that. However no one else really asks that besides Yoongi's own little circle, as well as his suffocating parents.

"Uhm... yeah he's, he's fine he's... upstairs, watching some show about a talking cookie or something." Yoongi rambles on a bit to somewhat hide the fact that he is as social as a dinosaur chicken nugget (Youngjae's favorite meal). This causes Taehyung to giggle melodically and Yoongi has to clear his throat as to not hear the laugh too well, or else he might just get annoyed and in deed end up punching a wall like he so desperately wants. 

The professor's eyes flick down at the basket of clothes on the front step near Yoongi's feet, something that he's been doing for quite some time, only now, it's more apparent. 

"Do you need help?" He asks. Yoongi swallows down a sturdy no as he pickes the bin back up, readjusting the basket on his hip. The second basket by his feet looks like it's about to topple over any minute and of-fucking-course it doesn't go unnoticed by the one and only Kim Taehyung.

"No it's, it's fine I just have to fold. That's it." Yoongi looks down at the basket by his feet. He looks back up at Taehyung who, is watching him carefully.

"Are you sure? I won't mind. I just have to help set up a few things upstairs but, it should only take a few―"

"Taehyung? We need you for a sec. This light is fucking broke." A voice interrupts. Taehyung sighs with a small smile and the slight roll of his eyes. Yoongi purses his lips so that he doesn't smile too.

"That's... relatable." Yoongi says quietly, making Taehyung snort. He looks down at the basket of clothes. 

"Can I at least help you bring the basket upstairs?" He offers. Yoongi sighs, knowing that he would rather have this instead of folding clothes for about an hour or so with his art teacher. 

"Okay." Yoongi settles on, picking up one of the baskets and Taehyung, the other. They walk up the stairs quietly, Yoongi in the front and Taehyung behind him. Neither feels the need to talk and Yoongi is grateful, as he has nothing more to say to the man who is constantly offering him things. Once they reach Yoongi's door, the pianist unlocks it with his key and pushes it open, kicking the basket of clothes in as Taehyung carefully places it inside.

"Thanks." Yoongi says, barely above a whisper. Taehyung nods with a small smile.

"Of course." Taehyung says before his eyes fall on Youngjae who, is picking in his nose. 

"Yah Jae. That's gross stop that." Yoongi scolds lightly, round cheeks flushed in embarrassment as Taehyung giggles lightly. Yoongi turns to face him, trying his best not to shoo the man out but, well that's exactly what the fuck he wants. 

"You should go back to your friends. The light is broken apparently." Yoongi reasons, and Taehyung blinks, his expression flickering off for a moment before that familiar smile spreads across face. 

"Right. Again if you need anything or... just let us know." Taehyung offers with a nod before he steps out beyond the doorway. Yoongi nods with pressed lips, knowing he will indeed not be asking the professor for a damn thing. 

"Great. Bye." Yoongi bids before hastily shutting the doorway. A heavy sigh rushes past his pink lips as he rests his forehead against the door, listening to Taehyung's footsteps creak further and further away. There is a dull thudding in the frontal lobe of Yoongi's brain, and he squeezes his eyes tight, a feeble attempt to decrease the ache. 

Youngjae sneezes with a pinched whine. 

"Jae..." Yoongi groans before running to grab some tissues.


The pounding of house music from only a floor or two below has Yoongi fidgeting in his bed.

The music is fucking loud, rowdy and unintelligible. Yoongi barely knows Yugyeom but his taste in music is fucking shit. 

"Goddammit." Yoongi growls before hurling his covers to the side and trudging downstairs. 

Yoongi doesn't have time for this shit. He doesn't have time for the goody neighbors that are too nice to not say shit. He is not one of those people that would sacrifice his own sleep for the sake of some drunk ass twenty-somethings who don't have a care in the world, nor do they have the consideration for those who actually do things with their lives. 

Yoongi is at the door now, the music even heavier and bass-heavy than before. The ache in his head has only increased and it's really hard for Yoongi to feel his fingers or toes, the numbness of sleep still weighing his body down with lethargy. 

He pummels the door with desensitized knuckles. His brain too sleep deprived to think of something sensible to say. It takes three more rounds of fierce knocking before someone even decides to pay him any mind and open the door. He doesn't even recognize the face before he lets all hell loose. 

"Why the fuck is your music so loud that it can be heard from blocks away? I have a fucking two-year who is trying to sleep and I will not hesitate to call the fucking police on―"

"Woah woah hold on..." Yugyeom comes staggering over to the doorway, eyes hazy and blurred by the drugs in his system. He tilts his head with a curious smile. "Yoongi! What's up man? I had no idea you lived here." Yoongi has a clever retort on the tip of his tongue before Yugyeom has turned away from him. "Tae! Look who it is man!" He screams and Yoongi feels the need to crawl back into his hole. Damn sleep to hell. He can go another night without it. 

In seconds Taehyung is there but, he is not the same man that Yoongi is accustomed to. 

The top buttons of his shirt are not intact, his tan skin damn near glowing and visible beneath the fabric. His hair is tousled, eyes hooded and darker than the coffee that invigorates Yoongi each morning. His thick lips are wet, glossy with sheen and maybe even spit. They look kiss-slicked and it ignites a dull flame in Yoongi's belly that he doesn't care to name. More like, he would rather just not name it at all. 

Taehyung smiles lazily before allowing his teeth to take hold of his bottom lip. "Hyung," laughs breathlessly and Yoongi's stomach swoops, "Is everything okay?" 

Yoongi swallows down his complacency to just let the man, be. To let him exist in such a form that has Yoongi's heart rattling his ribcage. 

"No, everything is not okay. We're trying to sleep and your music is too fucking loud. Turn it down." Yoongi bites with a glare that has no fire. Even his words are watered down with feelings and hormones alone. 

Taehyung's eyes close, his expression one of shame. He then laughs it off, his gestures and expressions teetering on the edge of not normal and downright wrong. 

"Shit hyung, y-yeah of course. I... yeah." He giggles tiredly before rubbing his eyes with long, honey-kissed fingers made of gold.

Yoongi swallows. "Yeah. Thanks." He dismisses before trudging back to his own flat. His body feels far too warm to walk normally, the flower of heat blooming within his chest and spreading to every ligament, every digit, ever piece of skin.

Yoongi takes deep breaths, peeking into his son's room quickly before making his way to bed, a groan spilling from his lips.

Again, at least Youngjae can sleep through an earthquake.  

 

 

Yoongi's migraine seems to dwindle as the night trudges on. Sleep comes easier without the constant thumping and grinding that had come from up above not too long ago.

However, Yoongi's chances of getting more than just a wink of sleep shatters to pieces once he receives a heavy knock on his door.

"Goddammit―" Yoongi grits before throwing a tamptrum between his sheets, tossing them ruefully to the side before stomping to the front door. 

He whips the plank of wood open, preparing to unleash an onslaught of fury upon the intruder, however, his stone cold expression softens upon seeing who is at the door.

"Profess... Taehyung, what, what are you doing here?" 

The man before him looks exhausted. His skin is pale, bags wear the sockets of his eyes down as his hands tremble violently, his hair ruffled beyond belief. 

"H-Hyung I'm... shit I'm sorry this, this is innapropriate I know I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry for being so loud earlier and we weren't trying to disturb you and―"

"Tae, Taehyung. I need you to slow down. What's going on?" Yoongi interrupts, trying to wear his mask of constant irritation but he can't even find the damn thing. 

The man shakes his head, his bottom lip quivering as tears gather in his eyes. Yoongi’s body becomes wracked with guilt and nerves. He doesn’t think that him getting mad about the noise should cause Taehyung to go into such a state of panic, however, there is so much that Yoongi doesn’t know about the man that he seems to keep running into.

Yoongi doesn't know why, but he immediately needs to get to the bottom of what has Taehyung feeling this way.

”I’m s-sorry I just... I don’t know what happened but all of a sudden I was drinking and we had smoked and I started feeling... different I... I don’t usually feel this way after, fuck hyung I feel so fucking paranoid I couldn’t stand being up there for another minute and I can’t trust myself to drive home so... hyung I didn’t know where else to go...” A tear or two leak from Taehyung’s brown eyes and Yoongi feels his heart wrench in his chest. 

Taehyung begins to pick at his tattered, distressed jean jacket. “I understand if you don’t want me here I know you have a kid to think about... if it was me I wouldn’t want someone high off their ass, piss drunk in the same room with their kid but... hyung I’m sorry never mind I can go back upstairs I'll be fine I can drive I think—“

”Taehyung.” Yoongi says the name as if it’s a command. His shoulders slump with a sigh as he makes way for Taehyung to enter, the man nearly cowering away with wide eyes, despite Yoongi's crumbling resolve. 

“Like hell you're going to drive yourself home like this. You can come in, but if you wake Jae up by being loud I’m kicking your ass out.” Yoongi doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t actually kick Taehyung out for waking up his son but, Yoongi isn’t weak. He can’t be weak, not in front of someone who is usually so strong, so authoritative in such a vast and kind way.

Yoongi is nothing like Taehyung and he needs to man to know that right now, he is the teacher, Taehyung, the student.

Taehyung enters shyly, his tan cheeks glistening with sweat and tears, as well as a sweet dash of pink. His hands are jittery and Yoongi can hear just how quick and breathless Taehyung's very breaths are.

"What are you on Tae?" Yoongi asks. 

Taehyung shakes his head, trying to remove himself from a state of drunken apprehension. "H-Huh?"

"What are you on? You said you were drinking and smoking, what were you drinking and smoking?" Yoongi makes his way to the kitchen, Taehyung standing idly in the center of the living room, freezing as if the temperature in the room is down in the negatives.

"I d-don't," A nervous laugh trickles from Taehyung's lips as he furiously rubs at his eyes, "I don't know. I should know right? I mean I know I should know but I don't." Taehyung's words are frayed at the edges. He's nervous and scared and his fingers are trembling so much that Yoongi is considering calling Seokjin, a grad student as well who is striving towards his BSN in nursing. 

Yoongi sighs, trying to imagine what Seokjin would even say to him at a time like this. He would probably wheeze with that windshield wiper laugh of his, asking how he managed to get his fine ass sex-on-legs of a professor to find solace in his apartment. He would also tell him to use condoms which, Yoongi doesn't even want to think about such a thing. 

Because there is no way in hell that he could even be remotely attracted to someone as extra and annoying as Kim Taehyung. 

Yoongi finds himself in the kitchen, fumbling nervously with cups and glass, even though this is his domain. He imagines Seokjin telling him to make Taehyung drink water because, you know, water being the driving force of all nature and blah blah blah. 

He comes back, a tall glass filled with tap water and one of Youngjae's favorite cookies in hand. He sits on the couch, Taehyung still fidgeting in the center of the room. 

"Sit. Eat something." Yoongi advises. Taehyung nods with a shrill breath, stammering his way to the sofa. He plops down almost lazily, not in control with his body. He takes the cup of water as well as the napkin with a cookie on top. Yoongi finds that he should have probably found something more nutritious but Yoongi's own flat resembles a food desert with the exception of baby food for Youngjae. 

"Drink it slow." Yoongi attempts to say before Taehyung downs the glass despite Yoongi's warning. The father of one sighs as Taehyung slumps backwards, exhausted and still very drunk. He starts picking at the treat in his hands. 

"If you throw up in here you will be cleaning it up." 

Taehyung giggles tiredly. "Okay." 

Yoongi sighs. "You also shouldn't be doing this kind of shit without knowing what it is you're taking." He scolds darkly. Taehyung swallows thickly. 

"I know." 

"I would expect more of a college professor." Yoongi also adds, not really trying to make Taehyung feel bad but, how is he to learn from someone who can barely take care of themselves? How can he respect someone who has no regard for their own safety? 

And Yoongi would know, because he expects his son to do the same. 

Taehyung's jaw clenches which, startles Yoongi a bit, seeing the muscles ripple beneath such perfect tan skin. Taehyung appears almost... irritated. With him. 

"I'm not really a professor you know. I'm a TA. I'm trying to get my own PHD so, I don't need that right now." Taehyung retorts, putting the cookie down as he doesn't have the stomach for such a sugary treat. 

Yoongi chuckles bitterly. "It doesn't matter what the fuck you need. You were being irresponsible." Taehyung nearly cackles as he throws his head back. 

"Me? Are you sure you are the one to talk that way hyung? Don't act as if you know my story because you don't." Yoongi exhales his rage. He sits up, facing Taehyung, cheeks red with indignation. 

"I don't have to know your goddamn story to know that what you did was stupid."  

A moment of suffocating silence blinds them both with its ire. Taehyung's nostrils flare.

"I don't remember asking for your fucking opinion."

At this, Yoongi's breath hitches, his anger dissolving into a sensation of shock, one that makes his heart stop. 

And the thought of it is childish, the thought that someone as pure and fun-loving as Taehyung swearing at him hurts so much, but it does. 

It fucking hurts a lot. 

"Well then if that's the case why don't you find someplace else to stay." Yoongi says, his void of a voice colored with defeat and distress. 

Taehyung stands with a huff, almost falling as he stumbles upward, his mind vision still hazy and clouded with the use of narcotics. 

"I should. This is innapropriate. I shouldn't have even come here―" 

"But you did. So you can get the fuck out now." Yoongi grumbles, wanting to really mean what he is saying but he can't. Yoongi has never been the one for dramatics but God forbid the man try to drive himself home, or he winds up taking a cab and is assaulted on the way back to his home. There are so many fucking possibilities that make Yoongi sick to his stomach but no matter which one he chooses, they all end up the same. 

With Taehyung dead. 

And he doesn't want to care but he does and he should but he can't bring himself to apologize. He knows he isn't all the way wrong in this situation but, he wasn't all the way right either. 

He had no right to come down on Taehyung when he knows he hates it when people do the same to him. 

A sorrowful cry breaks the quiet. A baby's wails that makes the two mens' hearts ache. 

"Fuck." Yoongi hisses between his teeth before snapping his head back in Taehyung's direction. He wants to say something, perhaps it's an apology, or rather a threat. Yoongi doesn't know but the words die in his throat anyway.

He runs down the hall to his son's room, yanking the door open and sweeping the child into his arms. He rocks Youngjae as softly as he can, the baby screaming into his neck and fisting at the collar of his shirt. Yoongi shushes him, a calm palm to the boy's hair as he sways him back and forth. Time doesn't exist here, in this room, with his son as he slowly drifts back to sleep. Yoongi carefully cradles him back into his crib, rocking the bed slowly as he sighs, a new wave of exhaustion flooding his system and making him even more exhausted than before. 

He turns back around with tired eyes, choking back a yelp as he finds Taehyung at the door. The man has furrowed brows, his gaze no longer sleepy or ridden with fatigue. The corners of his lips are pulled downward and he somehow looks so much older than what he actually is. 

He looks sad. 

Yoongi steps out of the room, quietly shutting the door as to not awaken his son once more. Taehyung audibly swallows. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake him I just―" 

"Taehyung." 

"And I'm sorry for what I said too I don't usually talk to people that way―" 

"Taehyung." 

"So if you want me to leave I won't be upset―" 

"Jesus Taehyung can you shut the fuck up for once in your life?!" Yoongi barely keeps the volume of his voice under control, biting his lip in order to clamp in more of his screams. He looks back to the door of his son's bedroom, practically seething as his blood simmers inside of his veins. 

Yoongi takes in a deep breath. 

"You can take the couch. It's pretty comfortable. I can bring you some pillows and a cover if you want." Yoongi offers before already heading in the direction of his bedroom. He can't spare another look at Taehyung's doleful expression. It makes him hurt for reasons unknown. 

"Hyung." Taehyung damn near whimpers. Yoongi gulps before gathering all the courage in the world. 

He turns, a crestfallen smile upon Taehyung's beautiful face. 

"Thank you." He says, his eyes wet, woebegone. 

 

And Yoongi has never felt so low. 

 

And when morning comes, and Taehyung is scrambling to gather all of his clothes and his coat and his shoes, he looks up at Yoongi with tired yet, joyful eyes. 

And he is thankful. 

So thankful, and a your welcome just feels so sour on Yoongi's tongue so he doesn't say it. 

Instead he walks Taehyung out and, when all else seems to fail, and an awkward goodbye makes Yoongi inwardly cringe, Taehyung does the unthinkable because, when does he not. 

And he hugs Yoongi. 

He hugs him tight. 

And Yoongi's entire body goes slack in Taehyung's arms. The embrace is burning hot, as warm as a furnace as Yoongi listens to Taehyung's ramped heartbeat within his chest, all bundled up tightly beneath his artsy hipster clothes. 

And Yoongi finally remembers what it feels like to be held again. 

And he loves it. 

"Thank you hyung." 

"Okay." Yoongi squeezes out, his voice comically ruffled against Taehyung's coat. It smells like cinnamon. 

The professor leaves with a final wave of his hand and it takes Yoongi forever to finally catch his breath. 

Because Yoongi is too deep into this shit for it to just be a thing.