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Yoongi doesn’t like plants. It’s unusual, they tell him, for a young, prospective architect to dislike plants. Everyone nags about it—Yoongi doesn’t hear the end of it from the early morning when he sets foot into the office, until the end of the day no matter whom he talks to.

Even when he used to visit the flower shop and make small talk with the lady behind the counter, she’d get on his nerves with her plant-related inquiries. He doesn't go there anymore—not because of the lady, but because he no longer has anyone to buy flowers for, but Yoongi would argue that’s besides the point. It’s about plants and how everyone has the need to lecture him about it and how it’s getting on his last damn nerve. Even his best friend (okay, especially his best friend) won’t shut up about it.

For a biologist on his way to the grand finale that is obtaining a PhD, it isn’t unusual that Namjoon keeps nagging about it. Look at this green friend hyung, or oh this one is so beautiful hyung, or at least get a cactus for your desk hyung.

And Yoongi did get a damn cactus only to humor Namjoon, but the poor thing didn’t survive two months of Yoongi’s rough love. It’s not that he tried to purposefully kill it, it just didn’t work out. Yoongi doesn’t like plants because he can’t take care of them, he forgets about it, and that’s it.

He’s just not a plant person, leave him alone.

Shades of gray soothe his eyes, he likes hard concrete and cold surfaces, cubes and sharp edges make sense to him. He likes precision, immaculacy and having a plan to follow. Plants just don’t fit that scheme, even if they’re lovely and smell nice (or whatever ridiculous argument Namjoon would pull out of his sleeve).

Plants are, first of all, green and colorful. No whites, grays or blacks to calm Yoongi’s nerves. Second of all, plants are living and breathing organisms—they require constant care and attention, they change with the seasons, weather, and even if the lighting is a bit off, they’re in jeopardy. Yoongi doesn’t like that because it reminds him of chaos, and Yoongi doesn’t like chaos. He doesn’t like uncertainty or having someone relying on him for whatever reason.

So, to reiterate—Yoongi is not a plant person. And that’s why jumping off a building sounds preferable to watering Namjoon’s apartment plants for a whole week while he’s on vacation.



“Look, it’ll just be a week, okay? Please, I explained everything in detail, you just have to water them,” Namjoon says, a beseeching look in his eyes while Yoongi flicks the pages of a magazine, teeth gritted, pretending to read an article about artichokes or whichever edible green tree that is.

“Fine,” he groans, lets out a deep sigh, and makes sure to show Namjoon his most impressive eye roll. If that was considered a talent, Yoongi would put it on his resume.

Namjoon can’t help but cackle and playfully punch his shoulder, making Yoongi frown in annoyance. “Yeah, keep hitting me, that’ll get your plants watered.”

“Come on, hyung, please,” Namjoon whines, leaning back in his chair.

“I already said I’d do it,” Yoongi deadpans, darting glances between the uninteresting magazine and Namjoon’s petulant frown.

“It just doesn’t sound sincere, I’m worried,” Namjoon sighs pathetically, jerking his head away from Yoongi.

“What, it’s not like I’d poison them or something,” Yoongi stares at him, unamused.

“Okay but please read the instructions—”

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi raises his voice slightly. “I’ll take care of your plants like you asked me, okay? I’ll read all the fucking instructions and water them with the special water and I’ll even shower your orchids,” Yoongi mouths the words dramatically, eyes wide. “I’ll do exactly what you asked, would you stop it now?”

“Hm,” Namjoon squints, stroking his chin. “You’re gonna ask for something after this, aren’t you?”


“This is like... a tit-for-tat kind of a thing, isn’t it?”

“You’re insane.”

“Come on, spill the beans,” Namjoon chuckles. “What is it?”

“What makes you think I’d ask for something in return?”

“I know you too damn well, hyung. Say it.”

“Namjoon-ah, if you think I’d ask for something in return for grooming your jungle, you’re crazy,” Yoongi snickers, a long pause lingering in the air while Namjoon squirms in his seat. Yoongi smiles sweetly, pulls his chair closer to the table and glances at Namjoon before speaking. “I’m not asking for anything; I’m demanding you get off my dick with your plant business and your green friends and your damn photosynthesis and freaking plant alleles. Sound good?”

“Alleles aren’t exclusive to plants—”

“Sense the tone,” Yoongi warns.

“Sorry,” Namjoon smiles sheepishly. “Okay, I get it.”

“So, we have a deal?”

“We do,” Namjoon nods.

“Good,” Yoongi chuckles. “Have a nice trip. Have fun boning Seokjin or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Namjoon murmurs, a sour smile on his face.

“You wanna flip me off now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m afraid of what you’d do to my plants,” Namjoon murmurs worriedly.

Yoongi wheezes.



Yoongi might not like plants, but he likes his friends, even if he doesn’t say it. He has his ways of showing his affection, and accompanying Jin and Namjoon to the airport is one of them.

They look ridiculous, dressed in Hawaiian shirts and shorts like that, contagious grins on their faces. They’re too lovey dovey for Yoongi’s liking, and he often tells them to get a room or go to hell, or both, but—the truth is—he likes Jin and Namjoon. He specifically likes them together because they make a good match. They bring out the best in each other. They make each other more bearable, and Yoongi likes that.

Kim Seokjin is hard to describe, Yoongi would argue, because the kind of chaos he brings to the mix is simply beyond words. The amount of jokes and puns he can make in one hour is sometimes concerning, most times annoying and—in Namjoon’s eyes—a characteristic of a true comedian. In Yoongi’s eyes though, the jokes aren’t even that funny. It’s his delivery and voice that are hilarious. So, Jin is a comedian, except his actual job is in human resources, a pretty serious one too with a lot of responsibilities. He’s accountable and poised when he chooses to be, and other times he’s just… unapologetically himself.

That’s the thing about Jin.

He brings chaos, and Yoongi doesn’t like chaos, but for him he makes the exception. After all, he’s made Namjoon less insufferable and more bearable, and that’s a big deal. Taming a wild biologist who’s neck deep into academia isn’t easy, Yoongi knows this.

Kudos to Jin.

“Call me when you get there, will you,” Yoongi murmurs, eyes peeled to their many suitcases.

“That’s very sweet of you,” Jin smiles fondly, picking up one of the bags. A soothing voice echoes through the speakers, announcing the imminent plane departure.

“Time to go,” Namjoon winces, restlessly rummaging through his bag in search of his documents. Jin lets out a little sigh, takes a moment to soak up Namjoon’s facial expressions, and puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Stop worrying so much, your passport is right here,” Jin raises his hand, all relevant pieces of paper safely clutched between his fingers. Namjoon gets a little flustered before a smile envelops his face.

It’s an endearing, loving moment where they’re just gazing into each other’s eyes, until Yoongi decides to ruin it by clearing his throat loudly.

“Disgusting,” he frowns, Jin giving him the evil eye. “Okay, have a safe flight, please,” he murmurs, looking at his feet. Jin pulls him into a warm embrace without hesitation and Yoongi does his best to protest by flailing his arms around and frowning deeply.

“We will,” Namjoon opts for a shoulder pat, a wide grin on his face. Yoongi appreciates the sentiment and flashes him a half-smile-half-grimace kind of thing, and Jin finally pulls away.

“I hope we’re not forgetting anything,” Jin says, brows furrowed. Namjoon gently reminds him it’s time to go, besides, they’ve got the passports right there. Everything else is either replaceable or irrelevant.

“We left everything on the kitchen table, you’ve got the key right?” Namjoon looks at Yoongi who sticks his hand in his back pocket, pulling out a key chain adorned with a few pendants.

“Got it. Bring me another one of these,” he dangles the key chain in front of their faces, grinning. “A palm tree or something.”

“Deal,” Jin nods, picking up the other suitcase. There’s an inkling he’s forgetting something, though he can’t remember what. “Are you sure we—”

“Hyung,” Yoongi looks at him expressionless. “They’re gonna take off without you.”

“Right,” Jin murmurs reluctantly. “Well. We’ll see you soon,” he gives him one final smile before they leave.

Yoongi watches them walk away, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. He watches them exchange a few words, looking a lot like bickering, but they promptly remedy it with a kiss. It’s how they are.

A whole lot of chaos, a whole lot of kisses and a whole lot of love and, if Yoongi didn’t hate chaos so much, he’d maybe want that for himself, too.

Maybe one day someone will bring chaos into his life and Yoongi won’t want to slam the door shut in their face.

For now, though, he keeps the door closed and locked.



Yoongi’s plant babysitting starts the following day after work—after he’s already had a really long and annoying day, a mild headache creeping up in the back of his head, eyelids heavy with tiredness.

If Namjoon wasn’t his best friend, he’d just ditch the plants and head straight home in desperate search of relaxation. But, unfortunately for him in this moment, Namjoon is his best friend and he’s already called several times to tell Yoongi their flight was fine and how the island is magical and how there are beautiful trees everywhere and—

Yoongi’s heard all about it already. Namjoon sheepishly asked if he you know, did the thing, hyung, and Yoongi rolled his eyes once again. Not yet, but he will. He promised.

And so, he’s climbing up the staircase to the damn fifth floor in a building without a functioning elevator, and he’s sighing and panting and groaning. He’s already annoyed but, okay, he’ll just water the plants and be out of there, and maybe he’ll even have time to catch the next bus and be home before his show starts.

It’s not a show he religiously follows but it’s something he likes to leave on in the background while he slurps his cold noodles and stares at the wall. Or his phone. Those two are interchangeable and depend heavily on Yoongi’s mood.

Yoongi attempts shoving the key into the lock and fails. A feeling of dread washes him over, mixed with panic and drops of cold sweat gliding down his forehead. If Namjoon really gave him the wrong key, he’s gonna kill him, he’s gonna—

The door unlocks. It’s fine.

Yoongi lets out a deep, annoyed sigh and makes his way inside. His footsteps are light and make no sound as he walks through the narrow hallway into the larger room.

Joonie’s plants 101

Yoongi can’t help but stupidly grin at Namjoon’s notes. They’re tidily waiting for Yoongi on the kitchen table, a floral watering can beside it. Yoongi flicks through the pages, amused, and grins when his eyes detect Namjoon’s ridiculous doodles.

Please don’t use tap water. :)

Yoongi groans, though he’s far from annoyed; Namjoon’s silliness touches him, warms up the cold, rough edges of his heart. The way he cares for his plants moves Yoongi (though he would never ever ever admit that to anyone, not even himself, let alone Namjoon), and sometimes Yoongi catches himself thinking it’d be nice. It’d be nice to have something to care for so intensely, so fiercely.

And yes, Yoongi loves his job. He loves architecture, loves creating, loves the story he gets to tell when turning a vision into something palpable. It’s just that, well, he loves it. Loving something is different from living and breathing for it, burning with passion for a certain something or someone, shaping every thought around it.

Maybe that’s what passion is, or maybe it’s what love is actually supposed to feel like. Maybe it’s nice. Maybe Yoongi should give it another try one day, when he’s ready.

For now, he just smiles and focuses on completing his plant-watering mission—it’s going to take at least half an hour if he hurries, because Namjoon has a whole forest in his apartment.

Yoongi waters the kitchen plants first, watering can in one hand and Namjoon’s instructions in the other—if he’s already agreed to this, then he’s not going to fuck up. Once he’s done with those, he takes a step back, taking a deep sigh and freezes.

A loud noise travels through the air from the other room. And then another one.

Air gets stuck in his throat and he panics. Yoongi wonders if this is how he dies—in Namjoon’s apartment, watering the damn myriad of foliage he doesn’t like, murdered with a gardening tool probably. It’s hilarious how life has a way of kicking him while he’s down, and then kicking him some more.

Not that Yoongi’s feeling particularly down but, because of reasons, the last several months haven’t been a hoot.

Yoongi clutches the watering can more tightly and decides to investigate—time will tell whether or not it’s a stupid idea, he guesses—and tiptoes to the kitchen door, grasping the doorframe with his free hand. He’s peering into the dark hallway, heart pounding like crazy.

The rational part of Yoongi’s brain tells him it’s probably just noise from upstairs or he’s imagining things. The latter is very likely; it happens sometimes when he’s sleep deprived or too stressed. But he could swear he’s heard something, and it definitely came from inside the apartment and Yoongi’s now in full blown panic mode, feeling less brave than a minute ago.

The second he feels something graze his ankle, he freezes, very aware he’s not alone in the apartment. Why did Namjoon have to get robbed today, of all days, good god. And this is Yoongi’s luck—of course he had to be present during the event.

It takes another second for a silhouette to enter Yoongi’s field of view. Running on nothing but pure adrenaline and instinct, Yoongi swings the watering can and hits the intruder over the head with all he’s got.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he curses, his hands trembling an insane amount, and he somehow manages to take a few steps forward and turn on the small light. Then, a cat appears out of fuck knows where and mingles around the stranger collapsed on the floor.

Yoongi’s jaw drops.

So, Jin didn’t forget to mention one thing before boarding the flight. No, not just one thing. There’s three whole things Jin conveniently forgot to mention to Yoongi;

First, Jin and Namjoon are taking the next big step and moving in together when they return from their trip.

Second, Jin has a cat. The cat will be in the apartment for the entirety of the week while they’re away.

Third, Jin has asked someone to take care of said cat. The same person who’s now lying on the floor, seemingly unconscious, black shirt drenched in Namjoon’s special plant watering water.

So, it’s not an intruder per se. It’s just a very pretty boy with very pretty lips and pretty hair who’s been assigned to cat duty whom, justifiably, Yoongi just knocked out with Namjoon’s watering can.

And this is how chaos enters Yoongi’s life. It doesn’t tiptoe hesitatingly in front of Yoongi’s door; it doesn’t knock and wait to be invited inside. It surges closer like a tempestuous storm, like earth-shaking thunder that tears down the walls and the doors and everything in sight.



The stranger finally opens his eyes, blinking several times in confusion. Yoongi notices his pretty eyelashes and pretty eyes; gets caught up in his observation for too long, before a loud, annoyed shout escapes the stranger’s mouth.

“What the fuck, you fucking idiot of fuck—” a myriad of curses trails off his tongue, eyes serious and glaring at Yoongi. It’s a low, hoarse voice, sounding almost intimidating.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The situation would probably be serious and deeply concerning if it wasn’t for Jin’s damn cat, meowing along as the stranger showers Yoongi with his finest insults. It’s almost comical, especially with how pretty his mouth looks pursed like that, when he’s taking a break from cursing and non-verbally expressing his wishes for Yoongi to go to hell.

“Look, I thought you were a burglar or something. I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, the apology coming out half-assed.

If he hadn’t actually physically attacked the guy, he sure as hell wouldn’t be apologizing. Call it pride if you will, Yoongi calls it self-respect.

“A burglar?! With a key?” he stares at him, furrowed brows deepening the scowl on his pretty face.

“How the hell was I supposed to know you had a key?” Yoongi argues, but offers him a hand to get up, nevertheless. 

The stranger doesn’t react, not right away that is. There’s only silence, tension palpable in the air and a furious, cold stare in his lovely, warm eyes. Yoongi raises a brow, his hand still extended. After another moment of nothing, he bites his lower lip, levels of frustration raising rapidly inside him.

“Fine,” he says, teeth gritted, and watches the guy lift himself off the floor. He does it in a surprisingly effortless way, and Yoongi stares at him perhaps too intently, his eyes soaking up the shape of his body.

Not bad, Yoongi thinks.

Maybe his pride doesn’t let him form a thought more detailed than that but, the truth is, it’s more than just not bad. He’s slim and lean, strong thighs visible through the fabric of his sweats, shoulders not too broad but just right (just how Yoongi likes them).

Not bad. Not bad at all.

“Do you need ice or something?” Yoongi asks, partly annoyed, partly occupied by the stranger’s physique, still.

“I can get it myself,” he murmurs, annoyance present in his husky voice, and he walks across the hallway into the kitchen.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but follows him, nevertheless.

“Should I call the ambulance?” he questions in deadpan, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. The stranger pulls the freezer door open, rummages through it for a second before pulling out a pack of frozen something, gently placing it over his forehead.

“Why, do you feel unwell?” he replies, complete monotony in his tone. Yoongi stares at him.

“What—” Yoongi pauses, a grimace enveloping his face. “Because I hit you. Accidentally, but still.”

“Please, you’re not that strong.”

“You passed out! You were literally unconscious,” he huffs angrily.

“I wasn’t, I was just pretending so you’d leave. And no, I don’t need an ambulance,” the stranger replies. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

“Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you!”

And this goes on for several minutes—heated bickering peppered with insults while they stand a meter apart from each other.

“I’m here to water the plants,” Yoongi finally blurts, deciding to take the higher road. “Why are you here?”

“The cat,” he says.

“The cat? Oh,” Yoongi murmurs, having a brief moment of revelation. Jin’s goddamn cat. “So, you know Jin?”

“No, I don’t know Jin. I just assumed his cat needed company, so I climbed the window and now I’m living here while he’s away.”

“Are you serious—”

“Oh my god,” the stranger groans loudly, pressing the icepack to his forehead. “I know Jin from pilates. And zumba. And tennis.”

Pilates?” Yoongi scoffs, sounding meaner than intended. He’s met with a poisonous glare.

“Fuck off, dude,” he says, taking a seat at the dining table.

“How come I never met you before?” Yoongi asks, accidentally voicing his thoughts.

“Dunno,” he murmurs, uninterested in continuing the conversation. “It was a blessed streak of not knowing each other, I guess.”

“Wow,” Yoongi drawls, his voice much like a whisper. “Well, don’t worry. We can continue the streak, my pleasure,” he says poisonously.

“Best news I got all day.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply. It’s best he doesn’t because, at this point, he’d love to retrieve the watering can he dropped on the floor and smack the idiot a few more times. And then several more times.

It’s best he stays silent because the guy seems to be pressing Yoongi’s buttons, and Yoongi doesn’t like being out of tact. He takes pride in being mature, collected and calm—and it’s how he is most of the time. But this guy. This goddamn cat-sitter with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his soothing voice and the most annoying presence to grace the planet since the beginning of times—

Yoongi takes a deep breath.

It’s fine. Not a big deal.

He’ll just finish watering the plants and be on his way, hoping to never see his ridiculous face again. It’ll be like it never happened, except he’ll have a funny story to tell people and, most likely, a good reason to yell at Jin for several minutes and guilt-trip him into buying dinner.

Yoongi’s got a plan—he’s got it all figured out—except he has no idea his plan is pretty much doomed from the very start.



Oh, hey, sorry we haven’t been answering—"

“Save it,” Yoongi hisses into the screen, an expression of surprise on Jin’s face. Only half of Namjoon’s face is visible on the screen, and Yoongi can see his smitten, enamored gaze, and he’s already sick of it. “I’m going to kill you both, the second you set foot in Seoul I’m killing you both.”

Would you mind elaborating?” Jin asks carefully, sensing the distress in Yoongi’s voice. Yoongi’s hand is shaking as he holds the phone in front of his face, rushing down the street towards the bus stop.

“Would you mind elaborating?!” Yoongi ridicules Jin’s question, repeating it in an exaggerated way, his cheeks red and flushed. “Your goddamn cat, Seokjin!”


“And the goddamn cat sitter!”

Oh, oh—no,” Jin murmurs, panic washing him over. “Oh, Yoongi, I forgot. Really, I’m so sorry,” he begins his pathetic apology only to be interrupted by more of Yoongi’s threats.

“Seriously, what the fuck? How could that just—just slip your mind! Are you an idiot? What the hell, Seokjin?” Yoongi yells into the phone, lifting his gaze momentarily to make out the approaching bus in the distance.

What happened?” Namjoon chimes in suddenly.

I’m assuming he met Hoseok, but I don’t get the extreme agitation and death threats part,” Jin says jokingly.

“Sense the tone,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “And yeah, I met this Hoseok,” Yoongi groans, pronouncing Hoseok’s name like it’s a profanity.



Yoongi thinks about it for a few moments too long, missing Jin’s question.


I said—what happened? I thought you’d like him,” Jin frowns.

“Like him? Are you out of your mind? Good god,” Yoongi wails, covering his face. “I knocked him out with Joon’s watering can.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence followed by a moment of pure shock on Jin’s face. Making sure he’s heard him correctly; he leans closer to the phone screen and worriedly asks Yoongi to repeat himself.

Oh my god,” Jin shrieks, eyes wide. “What the hell, Yoongi?”

“I thought he was a burglar!”

“This is a disaster,” Namjoon adds, stroking Jin’s arm lovingly in attempts to calm him down. “Is he okay? Did you hurt him?” he adds.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi, it slipped my mind. Really,” Jin says, sighing deeply.

“Yeah, you should be sorry, he’s the worst person I’ve ever met,” Yoongi frowns.


“Gotta go, bus is here,” Yoongi murmurs distractedly. “I hate him, and I hate you, have a good day, goodbye,” Yoongi groans, a deep frown on his face that doesn’t stop him from murmuring a quiet love you before ending the call.



The next morning, Yoongi walks into the office extremely grumpy. It’s enough for everyone to back off and not pose any questions, and Yoongi makes a mental note for later—maybe if he faked grumpiness more often, people would just leave him alone.

Especially with the plant-related questions.

Damn the plants, all the plants, but specifically Namjoon’s plants.

Yoongi sits down in his fancy chair, peels his eyes to the computer screen and smiles the second his ears detect a familiar voice. Jungkook, his younger colleague, is the only person in the office Yoongi would forgive for bothering him in the early morning. There are even theories among the co-workers that Jungkook isn’t capable of annoying Yoongi, ever, and some even dare to say he has a soft spot for him.

It’s often discussed in the break room over coffee and bagels, and it’s just another thing on the list of things Yoongi doesn’t understand.

It’s not like he’s trying to hide it—he considers himself to be affectionate enough. He even goes out of his way to show it to people. For example, he brings coffee for everyone in the office on rainy Monday mornings and orders takeout on Friday nights when there’s too much work to be done, work that can’t wait ‘til next week.

“Morning, hyung,” the younger chirps, pulling a chair closer to Yoongi and plopping down, a bright smile on his face. Yoongi attempts to smile but it ends up looking crooked, immediately alarming Jungkook. “Oh no, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi murmurs, stroking his chin pensively while staring at the screen. “Didn’t sleep that well,” he says, eyes still glued to the screen. Jungkook tilts his head.

“Is everything alright? You don’t look so fresh,” he concludes, pursing his lips. Yoongi pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tries to ignore Jungkook but fails after approximately two seconds.

Soft spot for Jungkook activated.

“You know how Namjoon has basically kidnapped every single tree in fuckin’ Seoul and brought it to his apartment,” Yoongi says in deadpan, Jungkook’s worried expression quickly turning into a wide grin as he snorts. “Well, he’s asked me to water them while he’s gone.”

“He’s gone?”

“On vacation with Seokjin,” Yoongi grumbles, reliving his last video call with them.

“Oh, where’d they go?” Jungkook poses with interest.

“To hell, I hope,” Yoongi rolls his eyes before actually revealing their whereabouts. “Anyway, I went to water his plants yesterday and there was this guy I had no idea would be there,” Yoongi frowns.

“Really? Who?”

“Listen,” Yoongi whines, looking away from the computer screen. “I thought it was a burglar, scared the shit out of me. I did what I had to do,” Yoongi sighs dramatically—perhaps even too dramatically, making Jungkook think he’s killed a man for a whole intense second.

“Anyway, what happened was, I knocked him out with a watering can,” he frowns, Jungkook bursting into laughter. It takes several moments for him to recollect while Yoongi keeps rewinding the reel of tape in his mind.

The pretty boy with his pretty hair and Namjoon’s watering can.

“Is he okay? God, hyung,” Jungkook comments, too amused by the story. Yoongi gives him the evil eye.

“He’s fine. He’s also extremely annoying,” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “And, basically, he wasn’t too happy about the whole thing.”

“Wait, what was he doing in the apartment, anyway?”

“Babysitting Jin’s cat,” Yoongi deadpans, face completely expressionless, and Jungkook laughs again.

“Seokjin hyung has a cat?”

“Apparently,” Yoongi continues, tone equally as flat. “And he’s assigned this fucker to take care of it while he’s gone, forgot to run it by me.”

“That’s insane.”

“Yeah. So, long story short, I came home late and couldn’t sleep because I was in distress.”

“That’s reasonable,” Jungkook comments, nodding along.

“I know. Well, anyway, that’s about it,” he frowns.

“Hopefully you don’t run into him again today,” Jungkook snickers, darting glances at Yoongi’s computer screen.


“Well, yeah. I assume the cat needs to be fed every day, same goes for—”

“—Namjoon’s plants,” Yoongi interrupts, an expression of defeat on his face.

Of course. He’d forgotten to even consider the actual possibility of seeing the guy—Hoseok—again. Him and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his insults too dirty for his pretty heart-shaped mouth.

“You know what, I’ll get you a cup of coffee, you look like you could use it,” Jungkook says sympathetically and jumps up, Yoongi giving him a soft smile while mulling over the thought.

Maybe he should just go at a later hour than yesterday. If he goes to water the plants in the evening, chances of running into Hoseok are much, much slimmer because there’s a good chance he’s at a zumba or pilates class or whatever the third thing was.

Yoongi remains distracted until the smell of fresh coffee hits his nostrils. Jungkook brings two mugs, one filled nearly to the brim with milk, and another one with dark liquid, steamy and hot.

Now that’s something he can get on board with—coffee. Coffee, a good book and thick walls around him, maybe even a jazzy tune playing silently in the background. The taste of it alone elicits a content smile from Yoongi and he hums as he takes a sip, the flavor rich and strong, just how he likes it.

Yoongi doesn’t put milk or sugar in his coffee because, according to him, he has an appreciation for the finer things in life and also, he’s not a child. Jungkook, on the other hand, only drinks coffee if he can’t taste it from all the sugary milk, but Yoongi forgives him (only and exclusively him).

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, eyes soft as he smiles at Jungkook.

“Is it good?” Jungkook asks with childlike curiosity.

“It’s just right,” Yoongi nods, fixes his glasses and glances at the screen. Now’s probably the good time to get back to work, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to agree. He’s still sitting beside Yoongi, his doe-like eyes big and inquisitive. “What?”

“Tell me about the guy,” Jungkook requests, grin too bright and wide for Yoongi to ignore.

“About the cat sitter?” Yoongi frowns. “I told you the whole story.”

“Okay, but tell me more,” Jungkook nags. “Is he good-looking?”

The question surprises Yoongi and he hesitates to answer for a moment. Admitting that he’s good-looking would qualify as a personal defeat, for some reason, so Yoongi doesn’t reply.

“Does it matter?” he murmurs, pretending to intently gaze at the screen.

“So, he is,” Jungkook squints.

“He’s fine, I guess,” Yoongi shrugs, slightly flustered. “It—that doesn’t matter, Jungkook, his presence is unbearable.”

“Okay, but you did knock him out,” Jungkook offers, Yoongi immediately glaring at him.

“So, it’s my fault his personality is like something out of a poorly written book adapted into an even worse movie?”

Jungkook bursts into laughter, his whole body vibrating. Yoongi rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but grin at his own joke.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, smiling widely. “I’m just saying. Maybe he was horrible because, you know, you attacked him. I mean, hit him. In self-defense, of course,” Jungkook purses his lips.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi gasps, jerking his head toward Jungkook. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Maybe a little,” Jungkook shrugs, trying to suppress his laughter. Yoongi squints at the screen, opening a file in a drafting software application. 

“I’m kicking you from this project,” Yoongi groans. “Congratulations, you are now unemployed,” he teases, a sly smirk on his face that only intensifies Jungkook’s silliness.

“Hyung!” he whines. “Fine, I’m sorry, tell me—whose fault is it?”

“Cleary, it’s Seokjin’s fault,” Yoongi says. “And that guy’s fault, too, maybe. I’m still deciding. Definitely Seokjin’s, though.”

“How about Namjoon hyung?”

“Don’t even mention him,” Yoongi laments. “After he’s back from vacation, I’m taking a long vacation from him and his damn jungle.”

Jungkook laughs and laughs and keeps laughing until a co-worker timidly approaches Yoongi, clearing his throat in an attempt to catch the man’s attention. Yoongi winces, makes a serious face and shoos Jungkook off. Just looking at the sheer amount of work they have, Yoongi concludes that was enough banter for the whole week.

“Yoongi-ssi,” the co-worker begins, getting comfortable in the seat next to Yoongi. “So sorry to interrupt, we need your feedback for this,” he says, gesturing to the sketch on the paper he hands to Yoongi.

“Ah, of course,” Yoongi murmurs, taking a good look at the paper and putting it on his desk.  “I’ll get back to you before lunch,” he says. “And please, don’t come here apologizing. If you need anything else, let me know,” he smiles softly.

“Thank you, Yoongi-ssi,” the man nods and gets up.

Yoongi gets to work immediately, sipping his coffee in the brief moments his gaze moves from the computer screen. Yoongi likes this—sitting in the office surrounded by fellow architecture enthusiasts. He likes getting down to the nitty-gritty, being precise and immaculate in everything he does, and he especially enjoys helping others.

As long as nobody mentions bonsai trees, he’s first in line when it comes to assisting with projects, helping in any kind of way. Because, Yoongi graduated at the top of his class, after six very successful years in college, and immediately landed a sweet position in a good firm.

Min Yoongi is hard-working, skilled and capable, but above all; he is kind. Endlessly kind and selfless, always at his friends’ beck and call.

So, Min Yoongi isn’t just an occasionally grumpy plant-hater. There’s a lot more to him than just that.



Yoongi spends most of his lunch break contemplating when to leave work. The rest of the day flies by so fast that Yoongi’s previous doubts turn out to be irrelevant, since the amount of work keeps him busy until the sun sets.

That’s fine, he thinks, that’s great, because now he can probably go and water the plants in peace and silence, and be on the bus back home before he knows it.

Immaculate plan.

His plan fails the second he steps into Namjoon’s apartment, and his cheerful smile is replaced with a dissatisfied grimace. Yoongi’s gaze lands on a pair of bulky, colorful sneakers, and he notices the smell of fried onions fill the apartment. Making his way through the apartment, he rolls his eyes, a loud shrieky sound upsetting his eardrums.

Yoongi enters the kitchen, eyebrows raised, and lets out a loud sigh.

“Oh. It’s you,” Hoseok turns around for a second, checks Yoongi out from head to toe, and promptly returns to stirring whatever’s in the pan in front of him. Yoongi grunts silently.

Not only was Yoongi wrong about his presumed whereabouts, he’s also unpleasantly surprised to see him cooking, hair damp from what Yoongi only hopes was a shower, singing along to the tune playing from a small portable speaker.

Yoongi rewinds the tape in his head. Did he actually climb up the window and decide to live here for a week? Does he even really know Seokjin? Is the cat even real? Is this a practical joke—

Yoongi shakes his head.

“So, you’re living here now, huh?” he poses nonchalantly, making his way over to the windowsill to pick up the watering can.

“Told ya,” Hoseok replies, adding some seasoning to his dish.

“I mean,” Yoongi clears his throat, the watering can secure in his hand. “I know Jin asked you to watch his cat but, is it really necessary to clear out his fridge?”

Hoseok lifts his gaze from the pan, stares at nothing for a moment, and shakes his head only to then glance at Yoongi, a very cold look in his eyes. A moment later, he grins. It’s a cold, reserved grin, with a dash of irritation.

“What, you’re gonna smack me with that thing again?” he asks, and Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. Why, he doesn’t really know; all he knows is that he would love to smack him with a watering can again. Multiple times.

“No, I wouldn’t want you to faint again,” Yoongi fakes a sweet smile for the second the man glances at him and flips him off the second he turns his head away.

“I saw that,” he murmurs, adding the finishing touches to the dish. “And actually Jin asked me to cook this meat so it doesn’t go bad,” he says, mouthing jackass so Yoongi wouldn’t hear him. He sees him anyway, feeling his blood boil again, but then remembers what he’s here for—watering the plants—not attacking Hoseok with Namjoon’s gardening tools.

“Great, well, I really hope you don’t choke on the chili paste,” Yoongi adds poisonously before making a dramatic exit out of the kitchen.

Usually, Yoongi doesn’t get too stressed about work. He loves his job, enjoys the hours spent in the office, and most of the time the projects he works on seem more like a hobby to him than an actual job he gets paid for.

Today, though, he feels a pulsating headache creep up in the back of his head, traveling all the way through his skull to the front. The sky has fallen dark outside, and he’s still not done with his daily task, and Hoseok’s presence isn’t exactly helping. His loud vocals are especially unhelpful, and the way he chews his food particularly annoys Yoongi.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting his gaze up from his phone, and licks his bottom lip while looking at Yoongi.

“What? No,” Yoongi frowns, exhausted from the whole day. It feels like it’s been ten hours too long already, and it’s barely even dinner time.

Yoongi saunters over to the kitchen cabinet, rummages through a few containers and finds Namjoon’s medicine stash.

“I wouldn’t poison you or anything like that,” Hoseok murmurs, attention back on the screen again.

Yoongi just stares at him, mouth agape.

“Are you serious?” he asks before downing a pill for his headache and chugging some water. Hoseok takes his time to chew and Yoongi saunters over, sitting down.

“What? There’s more if you want, I don’t care,” he shrugs.

“You know what I want?” Yoongi blurts, squinting at him. “I just want to go home, draw myself a bubble bath and then go to sleep and forget this day ever happened. And you know why? Because I have to come here after riding that disgusting bus, and do the world’s most grueling chore that I hate. And you know what’s even better? There isn’t like a few plants, no, there’s about ten plants in every fucking room. And then there’s you and the damn cat that won’t stop meowing.”

There’s a long moment of silence, interrupted by the loud sound of slurping noodles, and Yoongi almost feels his eye twitch.

“Sounds like you have some issues there,” he raises his brows, flashing Yoongi a sweet smile.

Yoongi wants to strangle him, preferably with a long noodle.

“You know what my issue is? You,” Yoongi glares at him.

“I’m flattered,” Hoseok deadpans, returning to his food. “I specifically came over later today so I wouldn’t run into you. So, you know, this is really your fault.”


“Yeah,” he shrugs.

“I did the same thing,” Yoongi spats in annoyance.

“Well, where do you work?” Hoseok asks, cocky attitude present.

“I’m an architect,” Yoongi says, teeth gritted. He’d send him to hell, but maybe assembling a plan would work.

Right, a plan. That’s all they need. A plan so they won’t run into each other. 

“So, you work in an office or something?”


“Cool,” Hoseok says, tone flat. “My hours are all over the place so,” he pauses to flash him a grin. “You’ll have to adapt.”

“Excuse me? Why would have to adapt?”

“’Cause my schedule is all over the place,” Hoseok shrugs and gets up, picking up the plate and sauntering over to the sink. “Come over after work and I won’t be here,” he adds. 

Yoongi lets out a loud, audibly upset exhale.

“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “If I see you here tomorrow, I’m hitting you with the watering can again.”

“Good,” Hoseok says. “Being unconscious is better than putting up with you, anyway.”

“You asshole—” Yoongi begins, only to be interrupted by the loud jet of water from the tap.

Hoseok flashes him another smile and Yoongi could swear he even winked at him, that absolute asshole, and feels anger rise in him like a tide. Yoongi swallows down his frustration, reminding himself that this is just a temporary arrangement, and that Hoseok will be gone really soon.

Hopefully as soon as tomorrow.



“Hyung,” Jungkook calls the second Yoongi sets foot in the office.

Yoongi is already tired at the start of the day, blame it on the lack of sleep which was a consequence of downing a cup of coffee late in the evening. Blame it on Jung Hoseok and his unbearable presence, and Namjoon’s damn plants.

Or, maybe everything is Jin’s fault, somehow—Yoongi never ruled out that possibility.

Yoongi couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, eyes widely peering at the high ceiling while Hoseok’s voice echoed in his head. Loud, annoying and unbearable, with just a dash of lovely and a sprinkle of soothing and a pinch of pleasant.

Darkness would’ve swallowed his bedroom had it not been for the light seeping in through the curtains, dimly illuminating the corners of the room; like streaks of light orange across a black canvas. It makes him think of Hoseok for some reason;

Hoseok’s glistening eyes that remind Yoongi of his favorite coffee blend, simultaneously as cold as the tip of an iceberg. Hoseok’s bright smile; cold and distant like the winter sun in February. The soothing tone of his voice and his sharp, harsh words. The shape of his mouth, oh so pretty, and oh so daunting.

Yoongi snaps out of it the second his brain registers Jungkook’s voice.

“Hyung!” Jungkook repeats louder this time, leaning against Yoongi’s desk.

“Huh? Sorry,” Yoongi murmurs, darting glances between the computer screen and his briefcase. Not one lands on Jungkook.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to get drinks with me and Taehyung today,” Jungkook offers happily. “He said he hasn’t seen you in a while.”

“Drinks? Today?” Yoongi furrows his brows, mulling over the thought. “What’s the occasion?”

“He said he misses you,” Jungkook replies, eyes soft and attentive.

Kim Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend of four years, is someone Yoongi doesn’t spend nearly as much time as he’d like to. If there was someone good enough for Jungkook—and there isn’t, not according to Yoongi anyway—then Taehyung comes pretty close to it.

“I haven’t seen him in a while, that’s true,” Yoongi admits. “Well, okay, I guess—”

“Ah, he’ll be so happy, hyung!” Jungkook exclaims happily and almost pulls Yoongi into an embrace, but then remembers he’s in the office. He clears his throat and feigns nonchalance instead. “Soju after work, sound good?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Yoongi nods distractedly. “Sure, I just have to get this done today.”

Jungkook disappears behind his own computer screen and immerses himself in work, and Yoongi lets architecture occupy his mind for the next several hours. Yoongi likes this; the silence, the focus, the straight lines and scales, designs and blueprints. He likes creating, loves seeing something that was just a hint of an idea become something concrete.

They leave the office at dusk. The sky looks like something out of a dream; deep purples blending in with pinks and light blues, tangled in a beautiful mess with deep oranges. Yoongi feels a refreshing breeze against his cheeks, and he pulls his trench coat on.

“You’ve become so stylish, hyung,” Jungkook notices, wearing a striped shirt accentuating his built torso, and a pair of grey pants tight against his skin. Yoongi grins.

“Have I?” he asks, smiling shyly.  

Yoongi looks good in a pair of black, business pants and a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar; his business casual look completed with a beige trench coat over it and a pair of black loafers on his feet.

“Totally,” Jungkook grins.

They reach the bar and Taehyung greets Yoongi with a warm hug, and (this time) Yoongi doesn’t object. They sit down, Taehyung and Jungkook sitting close like they’re glued together, and start catching up.

It’s been at least a few months since he’s last seen Taehyung. There’s two reasons; Taehyung’s month-long business trip and another reason Yoongi doesn’t like to mention. Something that broke his heart and doesn’t have anything to do with Taehyung, rather it has something to do with Yoongi’s wish to not see anyone that wasn’t a bottle of alcohol for a month straight. And, subsequently, a few weeks of trying to let go of the habit, mostly with Namjoon’s help.

So, it’s been at least three months since he’s last seen Taehyung. About five months since it happened—nearly half a year since he whispered his last goodbye to someone whom he loved, someone who only ever brought euphoria into his life.

Somebody Yoongi could lean on, always, and feel secure in their arms. Yoongi felt like he was on a boat in the middle of a storm, a tsunami, but the boat was secure, and nothing could reach it. Not a droplet of water, not a single bang of thunder.

He was safe, until the boat tipped over, and he found himself drowning in the restless ocean; the freezing water filling up his lungs, the roaring of the thunder looming over his head.

If it wasn’t for Namjoon throwing him a life jacket, Yoongi would be who knows where now. Maybe all alone. Definitely unhappy. Broken, probably, to this day. But, Namjoon did throw him a life jacket, pulled him out of the water, and made sure he wrapped him in a blanket so big that it warmed up his cold, broken insides. Made sure to meticulously piece him together with attention and kindness and made sure Yoongi wouldn’t drown again.

And he wouldn’t, he won’t drown again, because he’s not setting his foot on a damn boat in the middle of an ocean ever again. The ocean is wild, restless, unpredictable—it’s everything Yoongi doesn’t like.

He’s just going to stay and watch from the shore, where his toes barely touch the water, and the sand is warm and safe. The shore is calm, and Yoongi likes calm. It’s quiet, with the exception of the waves crashing and splashing against the shore.

“How’s the project coming along, hyung?” Taehyung asks, a wide smile on his face.

“Pretty good, so far,” Yoongi replies after downing his shot of soju. “If this one goes well, we might get an opportunity to work on a really interesting one. Fingers crossed,” he finishes with a smile, Jungkook’s eyes wide and glistening.


“Yeah,” Yoongi nods. “I told you you’d be working on the project with me. If you want,” Yoongi smiles sheepishly.

“If I want? Hyung, I thought you were joking,” Jungkook states, surprised.

“No, I meant it. It’s a great opportunity and you’re really talented,” Yoongi nods to himself. “Besides, I love working with you. You make really good coffee,” Yoongi grins, Jungkook’s eyes filling up with hot tears he’s trying to suppress from falling.

“Oh,” a quiet whimper escapes his mouth and before Yoongi can say anything, he’s already on his feet, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispers, Taehyung looking at them fondly.

“Don’t thank me yet, who knows if it’ll even happen,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m rooting for you two,” Taehyung says with a grin and Jungkook returns to his seat, leaving a quick peck on Taehyung’s cheek.

An hour and a bottle of soju later, Yoongi announces it’s time to go, because he’s drunk and Namjoon’s plants aren’t. His explanation doesn’t make much sense, but he stays for another fifteen minutes to explain his agony to Taehyung who listens with the utmost interest, laughing loudly in-between Yoongi’s sentences.

“I’ll see you kids around,” Yoongi grins, getting up. “Taehyung, I’ll see you soon, I hope?”

Taehyung nods, promising to stay in touch better this time, and Yoongi makes his way outside.



Yoongi nearly falls asleep several times riding the bus to Namjoon’s apartment. Luckily for him, he blinks his eyes open just before the bus stop, and he bolts, almost tripping twice. The chilly air wakes him up, and he’s in Namjoon’s apartment in no time.

Not alone, of course.

Yoongi frowns at the bulky pair of sneakers and keeps frowning all the way to the living room. Expecting to see Hoseok in his natural state—being loud and annoying—he encounters a surprise.

There’s Hoseok, sprawled across the couch, dozing off while Jin’s fluffy cat sleeps on top of him. It’s really… nice, Yoongi thinks. It’s nice, maybe because it’s quiet, or because he doesn’t have to put up with him, or because there’s something really nice about Hoseok (just maybe).

Yoongi shoos the thought away and waddles over to the watering can. Maybe he could just get it over with quickly and leave, without Hoseok ever knowing he was there. It’s a good plan, a good thought, until Yoongi accidentally knocks down the watering can and a few other items from the windowsill. Thankfully, neither of the plants get knocked down, otherwise Yoongi would be writing his will already.

The cat gets startled and jumps off, running in a rush to leave the room. Hoseok winces, blinks a few times, and lets out a quiet sigh when his eyes meet Yoongi’s. Hoseok’s sleepy, glistening eyes remind Yoongi of something familiar, something nice, but at the same time scare him, make him feel like he should look away before it’s too late.

“Do you mind?” Hoseok groans, voice heavy with sleepiness, and props himself up on his elbows. Yoongi would almost feel sorry for waking him up, but hearing his accusatory voice immediately erases the regret.

“Don’t let me get in the way of your beauty sleep,” Yoongi groans, picking up the items from the floor. Hoseok stares at him.

“Too late,” he says and Yoongi notices something.

It’s something he shouldn’t have noticed, because now it’s going to occupy his thoughts and Yoongi doesn’t want to spend even a millisecond of his time thinking about Hoseok. It’s Hoseok’s shirt and how it isn’t pulled all the way down, instead revealing his stomach and his bellybutton and his sun-kissed, smooth skin, making Yoongi have an internal moment of panic.

Actually, it’s several moments of panic because he manages to knock down what he’s just picked up, again, and Hoseok’s frown deepens.

“I thought we had a deal,” Hoseok says, lifting himself off the couch. Yoongi feels his cheeks get flushed, hoping he won’t notice, praying he won’t figure out it’s because of him. “Oh—are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” Yoongi murmurs in reply, relieved. Sure, blame his red cheeks on the alcohol. “I had a few drinks.”

“So, you are,” Hoseok saunters closer, crossing his arms. There’s a sly smirk on his face as he watches Yoongi clean up the mess he made. “Need help?”

“I’d rather die than have you help me,” he spats, feeling hot all of a sudden, too hot, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol, embarrassment, or Hoseok’s presence.

“Jump up your ass and die, then,” Hoseok replies coldly, rolling his eyes.

“Gotta water the plants first,” Yoongi sneers. “If I remember correctly, I told you I’d hit you with the watering can again if I saw you here today,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, placing his hands on his hips.

“Better check that memory,” Hoseok fakes a smile. “You were supposed to come over after work. Unless you work sixteen hour shifts, this isn’t after work.”

And Hoseok probably shouldn’t have said that, because up to this point Yoongi was ready to cooperate. Ready to invest his energy into teamwork if that meant he wouldn’t have to put up with him. But now he’s rubbed him the wrong way, and he’s poked at his pride.

“Right, of course. My apologies,” Yoongi purses his lips. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

And with that, he leaves to water the rest of the plants, simultaneously deciding to do exactly the opposite of what Hoseok asked him to do.



After a long shower, Yoongi sits in his bed, cozy in his comfortable pajamas. It’s already too late and he’s too tired, but he’s promised Jin he’d call, and Namjoon’s nagging about the plants can’t be stopped via a simple text message. A video call it is.

“Hyung,” Namjoon’s face pops up on the screen, Jin joining him shortly. “How are things? Have you been to the apartment? How are my plants, is everything—”

“Everything is fine, Joon-ah,” Yoongi cuts him off before he can ask another million questions, all mutually related, all equally annoying. “The plants are fine, the apartment is fine. It’s been three days, god. How’s your vacation?”

“Wonderful,” Jin replies, tilting his head. “You’re grumpy. Why are you grumpy? Did something happen?”

“No, it’s just that it’s past midnight and I’m sleepy. Tell me what you want so I can go to bed.”

“Aren’t you already in your bed?

“I’m this close to hanging up,” Yoongi frowns, gesticulating with his fingers.

“Fine, okay, I’m sorry. I wanted to ask you about Hoseok.”

“Hoseok?” Yoongi gulps, surprised.  “What about him?”

“I wanted to ask you to behave around him, I actually like him. And Joon likes him, too,” Jin says, Namjoon wholeheartedly agreeing. Most of Jin’s coworkers are plain nuisances in Namjoon’s opinion, very snobby and posh, and Namjoon doesn’t like them.

Hoseok is neither snobby nor posh, and has a decent sense of humor, not to mention he’s a sweetheart (in Jin’s opinion, anyway).

“A sweetheart? Really?” Yoongi scoffs. “He told me to— and I’m not joking—jump up my ass and die. Real sweetheart, sure,” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“I think you just started off on the wrong foot.”

“Actually, Yoongi swept him off his feet, quite literally,” Namjoon interjects, chuckling, and a hearty laugh escapes Jin’s mouth.

“I sincerely hate you two,” Yoongi deadpans. “What does it matter if I like him or not, anyway?”

“Because I want to hang out with him more, and you’re one of my closest friends—”

“We stopped being close after you conveniently forgot to mention his torturous existence. And, also, it’s debatable whether we were even close in the first place.”

“Yoongi,” Jin stares into the camera, Yoongi avoiding his gaze.  

“I don’t like him, he’s terrible, and I can’t stand him.”

“Huh, maybe that’s what he thought when he first saw you. ‘Oh, I can’t stand this guy, let me hit the floor’,” Jin bursts into laughter and Namjoon joins him, supporting his terrible attempts at humor.

“You better come back with an expensive ass gift,” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Of course. But think about it, okay?”

“About what.”

“About what I just said about Hoseok—were you not listening?”

“No, I’m not gonna think about him. Ever. Goodnight now, some of us have to get up for work in the morning,” Yoongi groans and ends the call after quickly whispering another love you, catching a glimpse of Jin’s mirthful smile.

Despite his stubborn attempts to stick to his word, he ends up thinking about Hoseok for a very long time. Yoongi insists that he hates him and that he’s a nuisance and that he exists specifically to taunt him; especially the shape of his lips when he smiles, and that thought in particular lingers in Yoongi’s mind for a moment too long. He’s tired and sleepy, has a lot of work waiting for him as soon as he steps into the office, so he needs to be fresh and ready to seize the day.

Except his plan isn’t exactly working, and he’s tossing and turning in his king size bed, staring at the high ceilings and the tall windows and the white walls hiding in the darkness.

It’s Hoseok and his stupid laugh and his cold stare and his pretty lips.

Yoongi hates him, he’s decided, and he’s going to stubbornly repeat it to himself like a mantra. Because, there’s no way in hell he would ever have any feelings for Hoseok that aren’t pure dislike.

He’ll like Hoseok when pigs fly, and only then.  



Yoongi feels like crap the next morning; like his zest for life has suddenly depleted, and his reflection in the mirror reminds him of soggy cereal or damp socks with no particular scent. He doesn’t look bad, per se, because Yoongi rarely ever looks bad. Unless it’s because of a fever or hangover, Yoongi looks nice and attractive (according to a lot of people whose names he knows and also a few whose names are nothing but blurs in his memory).

Still, he’s not feeling well thanks to the lack of sleep, and stepping out of the apartment lowers his spirits even more. His exposed neck is met with an abrupt surge of cold air and he shudders, looking up at the dreary gray sky.

Gloomy skies are never a good sign, most likely because they precede heavy rain and thunder, and Yoongi doesn’t like heavy rain and thunder. Not unless he’s at home, in his expensive ass suede chair, wrapped in layers of blankets while his steaming hot coffee cools down, and his eyes are fixated on a good book.

The day unravels painfully slowly, and Yoongi catches himself yawning on more than one occasion. Not even Jungkook’s magical cup of coffee helps early in the morning, and a few hours later, Yoongi learns that if the first cup wasn’t effective, the following three won’t be either.

So, now he’s stuck at work whilst extremely grumpy, equally as sleepy, and with a racing heartbeat. Damn the caffeine.

A grumpy, sleepy and anxious Yoongi trying to run from the sudden roaring of the sky isn’t the best Yoongi to go water Namjoon’s plants. But he goes anyway, because he doesn’t want to go back there in the evening and because Hoseok got on his nerves and, well, he can go fuck himself.

Hoseok and his fake smile, trying to mask all that sweetness underneath.

By the time he gets off the bus, the sky starts crying. Cascades of rain deluge the streets, rattled with thunder, flashes of lighting streaking the dark sky. Yoongi runs as fast as his feet will carry him, pathetically holding newspapers above his head in order to shield the top of his head from the downpour.

A gust of wind blows it away, ruffling his hair with vigorous force, and Yoongi feels so cold, almost freezing from the bone-chilling cold wind and the cool shower of rain. By the time he reaches Namjoon’s apartment, he’s completely soaked, not a single dry hair on his entire body. Desperate to get inside and steal Namjoon’s dry clothes that are way too big for him, he steps off the sidewalk a moment too early and,

Well, watches his flash before his eyes as a tiny white car races in front of him, nearly colliding with him.

Yoongi’s heart is currently running a marathon, and it’s no longer associated with caffeine.

Okay, so he nearly got run over by a car. Could’ve been his own fault, sure, but the rain is still merciless, and the thunder is roaring so loudly that he’s actually more scared of getting thunderstruck than being run over by a car. So, he moves his feet in the direction of the building, and gasps.

No, his whole jaw drops as he watches a man exit the tiny white vehicle he’s just parked in front of the building.

Of course.

Jung Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok nearly hit him with his car, and Yoongi’s wondering if it was his fault, or if Hoseok was actually trying to get his revenge in a very intense, maladaptive way.



“You fucking piece of shit!” Yoongi shouts the second he opens the door. Hoseok entered maybe a thirty seconds earlier, so he’s still in the hallway, trying to get out of his wet clothes as neatly as possible.

“Excuse me—”

“How stupid do you have to be, no, not stupid—how fucking insane do you have to be to do that!” Yoongi shrieks, hands shaking profusely.

“What are you talking about?” Hoseok stares at him, his patience running lower with Yoongi’s every growl.

“You just almost ran me over! I get it, okay, I fucking hit you with a fucking watering can and it was an accident, but to hit me with your car? You could’ve just punched me in the face, you fucking asshole!”

Hoseok stares at him in shock, mouth agape, until the corners of his mouth curve into a… smile.

Yoongi’s never felt such a strong urge to hit someone in his entire life. And he’s experienced a fistfight or two.

“That was you?” Hoseok almost cackles.

“This is funny to you?” Yoongi glares at him.

“Kind of,” Hoseok shrugs and turns away, Yoongi very close to actually contemplating murder at this point.

“What? Are you actually insane?” he barks, slamming the door shut behind him and following Hoseok into the kitchen, careless about the puddles of water he’s leaving behind.

“You know what you are, Yoongi?”


That motherfucker.

“What—what am I?” he hisses.

“A pedestrian,” Hoseok shrugs and then Jin’s cat appears, immediately circling around Hoseok’s legs, purring sweetly. It’s like she’s trying to protect Hoseok from Yoongi’s wrath, and in that moment, Yoongi decides he doesn’t like cats either.

Sorry cats of the world, your representative just sided with Jung Hoseok and that’s like siding with the devil, so it’s really out of Yoongi’s hands.

“Are you mocking my decision to lead an eco-friendly lifestyle?”

“No, I’m just saying you were on the road, you idiot, and you should’ve been on the pavement. Or, you know, at least looked both sides before crossing.”

And while he does have a point—Yoongi is still outraged, frothing with hate.

“You are the single worst person I’ve met in my entire life,” Yoongi says poisonously.

“Well, aren’t you a treat,” Hoseok rolls his eyes, and loud thunder rips through the sky. Yoongi shudders.

The lighting seems to be angrier than Yoongi himself; a furious storm booms outside as rain falls in torrents, holding hostage of the clear, evening skies. It doesn’t calm by the time Yoongi is finished with his daily chore, and he squirms looking outside the window.

Catching the bus in this weather is possibly going to be another near-death experience, Yoongi concludes, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

“What are you doing?” Hoseok peeps his head through the doorframe, holding a spatula in one hand while Yoongi pulls on his soaked shoes.

“I’m going home,” he snaps, staring at the untied laces, dripping wet. Hoseok makes a grimace.

“Uh, what?”


“Do you not see the weather outside? Are you crazy?” Hoseok squints.

“What are you—my mother?” Yoongi spats.

“Fortunately, no, but I have some common sense unlike you, so, you know,” Hoseok shrugs. “Come on, you’re gonna get struck by lighting and then Joon’s plants are gonna die and then what? It’s going to be a real tragedy.”

“The plants dying, right?” Yoongi mumbles, Hoseok giving him a look.

It’s been three days of constant bickering, insulting and very vocal expressions of hate to each other. But now, standing in the hallway of Namjoon’s apartment, clothes disgustingly wet on him, Yoongi actually feels like making a joke; a genuine attempt at a joke, immediately recognized by Hoseok, who flashes him the world’s brightest smile, blinding Yoongi’s petty ass and simultaneously making his heart sprint.

“Come on, you should change out of those wet clothes, you’re gonna catch pneumonia or something,” Hoseok says, leaning against the doorframe while Yoongi struggles to get the shoes off.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Yoongi shrugs. “Right?”

“No, it would, because then you’d die, and then we’re back at square one. Joon’s plants, remember?”

“You don’t die from pneumonia,” Yoongi makes a grimace, furrowing his brows. He dares to glance at Hoseok and his heart skips a beat for reasons unknown, and looks away immediately.

“Yeah, but technically you could, and we wouldn’t wanna risk that,” Hoseok says matter-of-factly.

“Since when do you care?” Yoongi sneers, following him into the kitchen.

“I don’t,” Hoseok replies instantly. “But Jin does, I think, and Namjoon probably. Unless he’s just using you for the plant thing, that’s always a possibility.”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi widens his eyes, except they’re softer now, no longer shooting daggers at Hoseok. Now, he’s just observing him with interest, soaking up all the angles of his smile, relishing in the sound of his pretty voice and the pretty color of his pretty eyes.

He still hates him, by the way.

“You never know,” Hoseok replies, pulling the refrigerator door open.

“Um, Namjoon has been my best friend since college,” Yoongi scoffs, plopping down on the chair and struggling to pull his socks off. “I think I’d know if he was using me.”

“If you say so,” Hoseok shrugs again, taking a few things out of the fridge and bumping the door closed with his shoulder.

“Why do you say that with such uncertainty? Of course I say so, I know so,” Yoongi’s frown deepens, lips shaping up into a pout. Hoseok turns around and just smiles, stripped of all coldness and hostility.

It’s just a small smile, possibly the prettiest smile in the whole freaking universe, and Yoongi actually feels his heart skip a beat.

“I’m just kidding, Yoongi,” he says. “You should really change out of those clothes, though.”

“First of all, I’m older than you, and second of all, you’re not my boss,” Yoongi frowns, Hoseok looking at him with eyes full of curiosity.

“How would you know that?”

“I know where my paycheck comes from,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Not that—you idiot,” Hoseok sighs. “How’d you know I’m younger?”

“I can sense the disrespect in your voice,” Yoongi frowns, pausing. “Jin told me.”

“Really? You talk about me?” Hoseok widens his eyes, an amused grin on his face. Yoongi rolls his eyes several times before realizing he’s cold, and that’s not a good sign. He should probably change out of the wet clothes for the sake of his health, and not because Hoseok told him so.

“He might’ve mentioned you once or twice, I can’t really remember,” Yoongi says casually, getting up. “I think I fell asleep from boredom,” he adds nonchalantly, sauntering over to the door.

Hoseok stands by the kitchen counter, a smirk frozen on his lips, and flips Yoongi off before he leaves the room. The onions are waiting for him on the cutting board and Hoseok gets to it, thinking about Yoongi and his ridiculous face for a moment too long.

A moment too long and then thunder roars again, like a reminder to immediately abandon all thoughts about Min Yoongi.



Yoongi hadn’t exactly planned on taking a thirty minute shower in Namjoon’s bathroom, but it happened anyway. If Hoseok was making himself comfortable here, why the hell wouldn’t Yoongi—Namjoon’s best friend, trusted ally, dearest buddy? Besides, if Namjoon knew he’d gotten drenched, he would’ve made him take the shower anyway.

Yoongi waddles into the kitchen, dressed in Namjoon’s tee that fits him like a dress would, and a pair of sweats too long and too baggy for Yoongi’s petite frame. To say they’re oversized would be an understatement; Yoongi’s practically swimming in the sole space within the fabric, but it’s comfortable, and that’s the only thing that matters.

Yoongi feels cozy, toasty and comfy, and that’s certainly a nice change from the grumpy, grumbling, growling Yoongi from an hour ago.

Mesmerizing smells of meat, fried onions and other vegetables hit his nostrils, making his stomach complain loudly, his cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment. He glances at Hoseok comfortably sitting on the couch, a bowl full of food in front of him.

Yoongi’s original plan to raid Namjoon’s fridge gets postponed as his eyes catch a second bowl full of food, chopsticks neatly placed on top, and a second glass on the same coffee table in front of Hoseok.

“Are you expecting company?” Yoongi asks, a little dumbfounded. Hoseok slurps his noodles, takes a moment or two to chew, before sighing loudly.

“No, it’s for you,” he frowns and gets back to his chewy noodles, Yoongi staring at him in confusion.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok murmurs, putting his bowl down shortly. “I made enough food for two, come on, it’s getting cold.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks reluctantly, still standing in place. Hoseok tilts his head, observing his face intently as if he was looking for something. Like he’s lost something there, and he’ll find it if he keeps looking.

“Because,” he winces. “I never know how much noodles to make. Or how many onions to put. Honestly, it’s not that great, but considering you almost died today and got frostbite, I think it’ll be okay.”

Yoongi frowns, finally deciding to saunter over to the couch and take a seat, as far away from Hoseok as possible. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“So, are you an assassin?” Yoongi ponders, Hoseok staring at him in shock before exploding into laughter. He laughs with his whole body. Yoongi thinks it’s kind of nice.


“How do I know this hasn’t been poisoned?” Yoongi raises his brow.

“Do you think professional assassins walk around taking care of cats and poisoning people? I could’ve just run you over with my car.”

“I never said professional assassin. Maybe you’re an amateur, and you’re really bad at it.”

“I wonder why Jin is friends with you,” Hoseok snickers, reaching for the green bottle and pouring himself a shot.

“Because I’m fun,” he deadpans and reluctantly picks up the chopsticks.

“Clearly,” Hoseok widens his eyes, his brows raised, and holds the bottle over Yoongi’s glass, but doesn’t pour until Yoongi gives him a small nod.

So, this is happening.

Apparently Yoongi is a plant hater, a cat hater, and a Jung Hoseok hater, but he’s not an alcohol hater, and technically—he never said he’d be opposed to drinking soju with his worst enemy.

“So, what do you actually do? Like, besides being fun,” Hoseok sneers, leaning back in his seat with the glass in his hand. Yoongi picks up some beef, stuffs it in his mouth and decides it’s not the worst he’s had. It’s not the best either, but it’s definitely not terrible.

“I’m an architect,” he says, reaching for the glass then. It’s filled to the brim and, naturally, it’s impossible not to spill at least a little bit so he groans, frowning at Hoseok. “Didn’t I tell you that already?”

“Oh, right. A fun architect,” he grins.

“Yes, exactly.”

“I’d add grumpy and unbearable with a dash of rebelliousness and a vigorous zest for life. An architect with an undying appreciation for plants, and avid love for soft kitties.”

“I literally cannot stand you,” Yoongi says, staring at his full glass, and chugs the clear liquor. It burns his throat, but the sound of Hoseok’s laughter is so unbearable that he immediately reaches for the bottle, fills it up and chugs another one.

Unbearable in the terms of sounding so incredibly pleasant that Yoongi can’t stand the sound of his own voice suddenly, and also, he hates him.

“Good thing you’re sitting down, then,” Hoseok shrugs, Yoongi glancing at him.

Why is he drinking with his nemesis, anyway?

“What do you do?” Yoongi asks, focusing on the noodles again.

“I teach high school.”


“Yeah. I’m used to all the grumpiness and the rebelliousness. Plants—not so much—but I don’t teach biology so, who cares?”

“I dunno if I should be offended or impressed, actually,” Yoongi mumbles through his full mouth.


Yoongi nods, battling a particularly large, chewy chunk of beef before being able to properly respond. Hoseok looks at him with interest, pouring himself another glass.

“You’re literally shaping the next generation. I mean, not you specifically, probably, but teachers in general. I think it’s a lot tougher than people think,” he concludes, finishing his thoughts off with another shot.

“And now I  don’t know if that’s an insult or compliment.”

“Well, it depends. Are you a good teacher? What do you teach?”

“Languages,” Hoseok says, grinning. “And yeah, students love me. I’d dare to say I’m their favorite, even.”

“Really?” Yoongi scoffs.


“I find that hard to believe,” Yoongi says, finishing his food.

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll cry myself to sleep, Yoongi,” Hoseok deadpans.

Yoongi feels a sudden surge of hotness, a wave of uneasiness in his stomach, and he does his best to flash Hoseok a smile so he wouldn’t notice.

“Don’t you do that already?” he asks, doing his best to be nonchalant, but Hoseok can see his flushed cheeks and restless glances, he can hear the slight nervousness in his voice.

“Only when my roommate is being too loud,” Hoseok makes a grimace.


“Yeah, he’s also my coworker. Like, my competition in being the students’ favorite.”

“And you live with him? Do you hate him?” Yoongi asks with interest, feeling the few shots of soju do its magic.

“No, no, of course not. I love him.”

“So, he’s your lover,” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, Hoseok nearly choking on his drink.

“God, no. No, no, no,” he shakes his head, laughing. “Why would we be renting a two-bedroom apartment if we were sleeping together? That’d be dumb. Also it’d be unwise from a financial and economic standpoint.”

 So, the thought of Hoseok sleeping with his roommate is outrageous in this… economy?

Yoongi has no idea what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter because his laugh is more intoxicating than the green bottle of soju in front of them.

 “I guess you have a point,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You have friends, right?” Hoseok continues.

“We’re in my friends’ apartment right now,” Yoongi retorts. “Draw the conclusion yourself.”

“I can’t draw,” Hoseok says, leaning comfortably back in his seat. “I’d be a terrible artist. I’d probably have to draw some really bad crap and pretend it’s deep or something. Like straight lines on a canvas or something.”

“What’s wrong with straight lines?” Yoongi frowns.

“Nothing,” Hoseok replies simply. “Nothing, that’s not the point,” Hoseok shakes his head.

Yoongi gets it now.

Hoseok isn’t trying to be deep, he’s just a little tipsy. He also hasn’t just offended the holy straight lines and simplistic compositions so dear to Yoongi’s heart. No need to go berserk or anything, Yoongi knows it, but it seems like his heart doesn’t get the memo. It’s racing, pounding, skipping beats—doing all kinds of aerobics just because of the way Hoseok smiles, or the way he purses his lips and looks away seriously, seemingly lost in deep thoughts. Yoongi wonders what he’s thinking about.

“Anyway, yeah, I don’t sleep with my friends,” he adds.

“Yeah, me neither. Just with my enemies,” Yoongi blurts, his cheeks flushing immediately as the sound travels to his ears. Hoseok looks at him dumbfoundedly, eyebrows raised, lips barely parted in surprise.

Is that what they are? Enemies?

Yoongi isn’t so sure at this point. Sure, he’s hit Hoseok with a watering can. And yes, Hoseok nearly ran him over with his car. And yes, he’s insulted him in ways so creative Yoongi’s pretty sure he’s invented new swear words by now.

But enemies?

“It’s a joke, I, uh, don’t sleep with my enemies,” Yoongi murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

“Good,” Hoseok says matter-of-factly. “So, I don’t have to befriend you now, right?”

“No,” Yoongi drawls.

Hoseok doesn’t say it in a mean way, but it hits a weird spot in Yoongi’s insides. A particularly soft, sensitive spot that maybe has a teeny thing for an aspect and a half of Hoseok’s personality. It’s nothing, really, just a tiny outlier as insignificant as a speck of dust on his nightstand.

It’s nothing.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok calls, noticing Yoongi’s absentmindedness. He’s staring at a spot on the wall, holding the empty glass in his hand. He doesn’t make an effort to turn around and meet his eyes, instead letting out a low grunt and nodding once.


“It’s a joke,” Hoseok says, looking at him intently. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being acquaintances with you. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he says brightly.

Yoongi’s heart makes another somersault.

“Wouldn’t be the best thing either, right?” Yoongi says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok leans forward, and Yoongi stands up slowly.

“I should get going,” he says.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to—”

“You better not drive after drinking, alright?” he warns, tilting his head to look at Hoseok.

His eyes are wide, gleaming like fireworks on New Years’ Eve, and Yoongi actually wants to punch that gleam out of him. There’s something about Hoseok, something about his eyes that’s so warm, so comforting—something even layers of cockiness and his attitude can’t mask.

He’s probably a good guy. He’s probably kind and caring, which is why he’s here in the first place, taking care of Jin’s cat. Staying longer in the apartment so it would have a semblance of a home even when the owner is away.

He’s probably warm, like a little furnace when the mornings are cold, and the wind is a little too rough. He’s probably that kind of person with eternally warm hands, hands that are firm and steady.

Hoseok is probably a circle, and not a square like Yoongi, because there don’t seem to be rough edges around him, there don’t seem to be sharp, pointy corners anywhere.

There seems to be just one thing, and it’s the way he smiles, incredibly soft and wonderful, and Yoongi can’t stand it.

Hoseok is warm. He’d probably show Yoongi how warm.

“I won’t,” he breathes.

“Good,” Yoongi murmurs, more to himself than to Hoseok, and waddles over to the door.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and does his best to put on a smile before turning around.

“And Hoseok?” he says, Hoseok’s eyes big and wide. “Call me Yoongi one more time and I’ll fucking strangle you.”



The sky has stopped throwing tantrums. It’s calm now, the streets wet from the heavy rainfall. The crisp air hits Yoongi’s nostrils; a futile attempt to chill his otherwise kindled heart.

It’s something about Jung Hoseok, god damnit.

There’s something in his eyes. Something hidden deep beneath the gleam and the glisten, buried underneath the layers of his attitude. It’s there, Yoongi saw it, and it reminds him of the sea, the raging ocean, the blazing fire of his heart.

Something a lot like…

A warning, maybe.

A last bus stop kind of a thing.

A game over kind of a thing.

It’s something a lot like chaos, and Yoongi doesn’t like chaos. And Jung Hoseok?

Jung Hoseok reminds him of chaos.

The way he laughs melts Yoongi’s heart like scorching iron pressed to a candle, the way he looks at him makes him feel like his heart is suddenly lost inside his chest, racing and squirming to find its way back to safety. The shape of his lips is so indefinitely pretty that Yoongi thinks it’s unfair, it’s fucking unfair that his lips are shaped like a little heart and he isn’t the one kissing them senseless until they’re both tired.

Hoseok’s pretty hair and his pretty face and his pretty hands and—fuck—pretty doesn’t even do it justice.

Game over, Yoongi.



“I think I fucked up,” Yoongi says, a soft blanket thrown over his shoulders.

“Oh god, did you hit him again?”

“No, no, I—” Yoongi pauses. “I was an asshole again,” Yoongi bites his lip.

“Are you calling us to inform us of a personality trait we already know you have?” Jin snickers, a cocktail lodged in his hand, Namjoon’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Hyung, I’m serious,” Yoongi repeats.

“I’m sure Hoseok’s used to it at this point,” Jin shrugs, Namjoon’s gaze deepening into a frown.

“It’s been four days, good god. What the hell have the two of you two been doing? You had one thing to do—”

“Joon, if you don’t stop right now, I’ll just leave your plants to die.”

“Hoseok can probably water them,” Jin rolls his eyes, Namjoon’s widening like an owl’s.

“Are you kidding? It’s a joke, right? He hasn’t read the instructions; he doesn’t know how to properly do it—”

“Could we focus, please?” Yoongi whines into the camera.


“I’m not an asshole, am I? Like, generally in life. You think I’m an asshole?”

“Not really, no. Jokes aside, you’re neither an ass nor a hole.”

“How many of those piña coladas have you had?”

“Three,” Namjoon interjects, making a face. “And you’re not an asshole, Yoongi. Even when you’re trying, you can’t fool anyone.”

“Okay, that’s good, right? That’s good,” he murmurs, eyes wandering. Jin has to call his name several times before he snaps out of it.

“Are you being an ass around Hoseok on purpose? Come on.”

“Tell me about him,” Yoongi requests, blatantly ignoring Jin’s previous assumption. “Tell me what he’s like.”

“You could literally just ask him—”

“You keep saying he’s a sweetheart, why?” Yoongi insists, his heart pounding. “Tell me about Hoseok.”

“I hate pilates. I sincerely despise that form of physical activity. Actually, after work I’d rather get drunk or just go to sleep after watching the news. I really, truly, dislike it very much,” Jin pauses. “But I go so I can hang out with Hoseok.”


“He simply makes me feel like there are still genuine people in this world, and I could tell you stories about him for hours, but I’m thinking you should just get off your high horse and ask him yourself.”

“I don’t like him, though.”

Jin lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, I don’t think he’s your biggest fan either, and honestly—neither am I right now.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything.

“He’s the kind of person who listens to you after a shitty day, and makes you laugh on a good day. If you wanna know more, ask him.”

“Are you having an affair with Hoseok?” Namjoon frowns at Jin suddenly and is met with a disgusted grimace while Yoongi snorts, the thought of it hilarious.

“Anyway, I’ll tell him to drop by in the mornings.”

“What—no, you don’t need to—”


“Don’t tell him anything. There’s only three days left; I’ll survive.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Yoongi ends the call after Jin tells him about their vacation, including some too specific, explicit details Yoongi doesn’t need to hear about. It’s either the third cocktail or just Jin’s personality, and Namjoon blushes like a tomato.

Yoongi tells them he loves them again because—what—is he not going to tell his best friends he loves them before going to sleep? He might be a little rough around the edges, but he’s not a monster. Besides, the way Jin’s face lightens up every time makes it worthwhile.



Yoongi draws a line. It’s a straight, simple line; a beginning of something. Then he draws another line, equally as precise, equally as thin. The lines meet and Yoongi takes a sip of his morning coffee, and then he draws a conclusion.

The conclusion is—Hoseok is probably not the worst human to grace the earth since the beginning of times.

Another conclusion Yoongi’s mind automatically draws is that Hoseok is the prettiest human to grace the earth, but he immediately erases said conclusion and throws it into the garbage.

Yoongi draws a third line; this one not as straight, not as perfect, not as fitting. There’s an urge inside him to erase it, redraw it properly, and enjoy the harmony of geometry in front of his eyes. But he doesn’t.

Maybe he’ll just let it stay there as it is—crooked and imperfect. Maybe he’ll let it stay and become a part of something different, something new.


Yoongi doesn’t hear Jungkook’s voice at first. He’s deeply invested in his sketch, his ears barely picking up on signals from his surroundings. Inside his head is where it’s loud.

“Yeah?” Yoongi looks up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Jungkook pulls a chair closer and makes himself comfortable as per usual after placing a cup of coffee on Yoongi’s desk.

“Am I bothering you?” Jungkook asks sheepishly. The truth is—probably yes. Yoongi is way too busy to be wasting time on chit-chat, but Jungkook has always deviated from the norm in his life.

“No, it’s fine,” he says as he draws a final line and lets go of the pen. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jungkook smiles. “Just wanted to ask you how you are. How things are. You know, with the guy,” he adds nonchalantly before his lips widen into a grin, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“What guy,” he says, expressionless, feeling a hint of a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Oh come on,” Jungkook squints his eyes. “The cat-sitter.”

“If you really must know, he almost ran me over with his car,” he says in deadpan and Jungkook waits for the rest of the sentence or at least for a punchline, but Yoongi stays silent, a subtle grin on his face.


“That’s about it.”

“That can’t be all there is, oh my god!” Jungkook raises his voice only to immediately lower it, seeing curious gazes around the office suddenly on him. “What do you mean, hyung—he almost ran you over with his car,” he whispers in disbelief, smacking Yoongi’s arm.

“How many ways are there to almost run someone over? That’s what happened.”

“Okay, well, did you… I mean, what did you do?”

“I yelled for a while but then he made dinner, so we’re cool now, I guess,” Yoongi shrugs, doing his best not to show Jungkook exactly how unnerving it is to talk about Hoseok.

“Are you… okay?” Jungkook asks cautiously, voice full of concern.

“Yeah, I mean, he didn’t hit me or anything, and I guess it was maybe a little my fault but it’s fine, he’s alright.”

“I remember the days when you hated him,” Jungkook says seriously, pursing his lips.

“That was yesterday.”


“I still hate him,” Yoongi says pathetically, aware of the fact that he’s sounding as believable as a wooden spoon.

“Oh no,” Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Oh, it’s worse,” he leans closer to Yoongi, his big eyes monitoring him with caution. “You like him.”

“What!” Yoongi spats, a ridiculous grimace on his face as he swiftly jerks his head and takes a look around the office. No one seems to care about their conversation, but still—it’d be terrible if anyone heard such a false, terrible, unrealistic claim.

Yoongi likes Hoseok? Absolutely not. Pigs aren’t flying yet.

“You’re adorable,” Jungkook coos. “Tell me more about him.”

“Is listening to people your new paying job ‘cause you got fired from this one?”

“Hey,” Jungkook frowns. “This could be really good for you.”

“Why on earth would this be good for me?”

“You need to get out and meet people. Have fun. Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Jungkook concludes.

“It’s easy to preach when you’re in a long-term relationship, Jungkook,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, focusing back on the screen.

“Maybe this could be your long-term relationship,” Jungkook says seriously and Yoongi nearly chokes on nothing.


“Hyung, you like him, he’s hot, and he’s nice,” Jungkook insists. “What do you have to lose?”

“First of all, if Jung Hoseok was my long-term partner, I’d jump off a cliff,” he groans. “And second of all, I could lose my sanity. Sincerely.”

“Maybe you’re just afraid of getting hurt again,” Jungkook raises his eyebrows. “Maybe you—”

“Maybe we should leave that topic the fuck alone,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth.

It still hurts somewhere, though he can’t really locate the pain anymore. It’s just there or, well, remnants of it. Remnants of what used to be, of whom used to be next to him. Yoongi wouldn’t go back, though, but the sole existence of the memories is sometimes too much of a burden. If he could light them ablaze and make the ashes disappear, he would.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook murmurs, about to get up when Yoongi grabs his sleeve.

“It’s fine,” he says, glancing at the screen again. “I just… I’m trying, okay?”

“Okay,” Jungkook says sheepishly.

“Yeah, maybe I’m scared, sure, but Hoseok is just…”

Terrible? Annoying? Loud? Obnoxious? Unbearable?

As time passes, neither of those words seem to fit him anymore. Yoongi could go through dictionaries and dictionaries, searching for the perfect insult to describe him, but the truth is; none of those would fit Hoseok.

Insults don’t fit Hoseok.

If there was a mold he could fit Hoseok into, it’d be a pretty one, a nice one.

“Different. He’s different,” Yoongi finally says.

“Different how?” Jungkook ponders and then there’s a long pause again.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi adds, looking at Jungkook. “I’m still trying to figure that out. Maybe it’s a good thing.”



Yoongi enters the apartment in silence, a part of him worried Hoseok isn’t there. A part of him thinks Jin ended up telling Hoseok not to come over when Yoongi waters the plants and it’s… Well, Yoongi is worried that Jin misunderstood what he was trying to say. He can’t blame him, though. Yoongi hasn’t been honest with Jin about his emotions towards Jung Hoseok.

He hasn’t been honest with himself, either.

Silence can’t be a good sign.

Yoongi puts his shoes away neatly, biting his lower lip, and goes into the living room silently. His lips widen into a smile automatically.

Hoseok is there, sitting on the couch with the cat in his lap, eyes closed while the TV is on in the background. Maybe he’s asleep, though Yoongi can’t imagine being asleep in that position but then again—it’s Hoseok.

Yoongi supposes that isn’t enough of an argument, but his brain can’t elaborate. It’s just… Hoseok.


Hoseok is different.

Yoongi waters a few plants before Hoseok opens his eyes, frowning as he blinks. Yoongi looks at him, feels his heart sink. Has frowning become his instinctive reaction to Yoongi? It’s really infuriating how Hoseok isn’t psychic and how he can’t read his mind and figure out that Yoongi doesn’t, in fact, hate him. Yoongi’s gaze is on him, lower lip between his teeth as Hoseok squirms and their gazes meet.

“Hi,” Yoongi wants to say with confidence, but it ends up escaping his mouth like a pathetic whimper, and he can’t help but frown at himself. Hoseok doesn’t reply verbally; there’s just a lovely hum that leaves his throat and it’s the nicest, most exhilarating sound Yoongi’s heard in his life.

Damn, his voice is pleasant.

Yoongi returns to watering the plants and Hoseok disappears from the room from several moments. When he returns, he’s equally as silent and equally as groggy from his nap. Yoongi can’t help but notice and he wants to ask him if he’s okay, if there’s something on his mind. He’d even ask him about the nap and if he’d recommend the odd sleeping position (and also if he’d be okay with kissing him sometimes, maybe).

“Are you alright?” he finally finds the words to ask, after he’s watered all the plants and done everything that needed to be done in the apartment. Hoseok looks at him for a moment before he allows himself to smile.

“I have a headache,” he says, sitting down on the wooden chair with a glass of water in hand. Yoongi looks at him sympathetically.

 “Oh, those aren’t fun,” he comments, frowning at himself yet again.

“Yeah, you know, I’ve been having them ever since… huh, five days ago, more or less,” Hoseok comments, looking like he’s trying to figure out a math equation. Yoongi feels his heart race again.

“Really? Huh,” he looks at him intently.

“Yeah, it’s weird ‘cause I never have them but… I haven’t been feeling that well,” Hoseok says.

“Oh god,” Yoongi panics. “Hoseok, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Yoongi stares at him, fearful of the worst—what if their first encounter wasn’t as silly as Yoongi made it out to be? What if something happened, what if the watering can—

Yoongi stops panicking the moment his eyes land on Hoseok’s sneaky smirk. 

“I’m just teasing you, relax,” Hoseok grins big and wide and wonderful.

“I think hitting you with the watering can again would be very relaxing,” Yoongi narrows his eyes, raising one eyebrow. Hoseok laughs. “So, you don’t have a headache?”

“No, I do,” Hoseok nods. “It’s just not the aftermath of a concussion, don’t worry,” he grins.

“Good,” Yoongi nods strictly.

“How’s the plant? Are you going to be able to save the leaves or not?” Hoseok poses the question, waves of dread traveling through Yoongi’s body. What?

“Huh? What plant? What leaves?” he stares at him, mouth dry.

“Didn’t you see the one that’s dying or something,” Hoseok says. “Or maybe it’s supposed to be brown?”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, putting his hand over his chest dramatically and Hoseok laughs again, the motherfucker. “Are you serious? Is this a joke to you?”

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny,” Hoseok says matter-of-factly. “I mean, your face.”

“My face is funny to you?” Yoongi asks after his heart has calmed down.

“No, but you looked like you were going to pass out and—” Hoseok pauses, slightly less entertained than a second ago. Yoongi’s frown tells him to cut it out or get cut. “—okay now you look like you’re gonna attack me, sorry, hyung.”

Yoongi maybe would’ve yelled at him but Hoseok calling him hyung just proves Jin’s claims how Hoseok is a decent human being and not a villain like Yoongi made him out to be.

“Tell me about your headache,” Yoongi requests, sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Huh? About my headache?” Hoseok gives him a weird look. “Well, it’s based in my head and it’s really unpleasant—”

“I know what a headache feels like, you idiot,” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened,” Hoseok frowns.

“Did you have a bad day?” Yoongi ponders, getting up then. Maybe he could make some coffee and do what Jin told him to do—get off his high horse and just try.

“Uh, no, I guess,” Hoseok says somewhat reluctantly, but proceeds to talk about his day, nevertheless. “Maybe a little.”

Yoongi makes coffee and Hoseok tells him about school and his students; about the stressful situation that had occurred earlier in the day, and Yoongi listens. He tries to soak up all of his words and voice almost as if he could permanently record it and replay in his head like a song because, well, Hoseok’s voice is pretty nice.

“Anyway, I didn’t mean to be a dick today I just… Well,” Hoseok clears his throat. “I thought I’d maybe ease the tension.”

“By tricking me into thinking I caused you a concussion and also killed Namjoon’s plant?”

“In my defense, I didn’t think you’d believe either of those,” Hoseok frowns. “Especially after you examined each plant for, what, five minutes?” Hoseok snickers.

“You don’t understand, Hoseok,” Yoongi groans dramatically. “This is my way out.”

“Your way out?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods. “My way out. If I do this thing right, I’ll never have to deal with Namjoon’s plants ever, ever again. It’s a big deal.”

“What’s so terrible about his plants?”

“Do you not see how many there are?” Yoongi makes a grimace. At this point, it’s safe to say that Hoseok smiles every single time Yoongi scrunches his nose or pouts, and Yoongi is beginning to wonder if that means something. Anything.

“I guess it could be a little grueling,” Hoseok comments, taking a sip of the coffee. So far, he hasn’t complained about bitterness or requested a scoop of sugar and Yoongi is pretty damn impressed.

“It is,” Yoongi huffs. “I’m not a plant person.”

“Really? Why not?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes focused on Yoongi.

“They always die on me and it’s a hassle to take care of them. I dunno, I’m just not… into plants.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Hoseok shrugs.



“You might be the first person who’s told me this… unless this is another joke and you’re teasing me,” Yoongi raises his eyebrow.

“It’s not,” Hoseok grins. “Lots of people don’t like them.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause everyone is always up my ass about it,” Yoongi frowns. “How do I, an architect, do not like plants? The number of times I’ve heard that question, Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi covers his face. “And I don’t get it? I live my life in fear that I missed something in school or that I’m dumb ‘cause I just don’t get it but what do plants have to do with architecture, I—”

The thing about plants is; Yoongi used to buy flowers every other day for a whole year. It went on long enough for everyone to have noticed, but it’s a memory Yoongi let die in his mind. He doesn’t buy them anymore; hasn’t bought any in a while. A longer while. It’s something he’s decided to leave in his past, even if others haven’t.

Hoseok, though. Hoseok doesn’t know about it. And Yoongi likes that, so he lets himself whine and wail and lament in front of Hoseok who meets his every word with a giggle, until it turns into full-blown laughter and here they are—Yoongi pouring his soul out with a crooked smile, and Hoseok just blinding him with his grin, his eyes, his lips.

Yoongi had no idea he could feel this comfortable around Hoseok. Honestly, he had no idea he could feel this comfortable around anyone. Sure, he feels comfortable around Jin and Namjoon, Taehyung and Jungkook, but this is different.

This is a stranger; a wonderful stranger who’s somehow managed to claw his way under Yoongi’s skin and now it’s all Yoongi thinks about. With all of Yoongi’s efforts to hate his guts, he can’t help but like him. Can’t help but stupidly smile at him and think how he is a fucking sweetheart, and how he’d take him out for a cup of coffee because he doesn’t ask for sugar or milk and—in Yoongi’s book—that’s as good as it gets.

“Maybe people think ‘oh buildings are outside, trees are outside’,” Hoseok comments.

“Maybe no one ever listens to me and people just keep thinking I’m a gardener or a landscape architect or something. A botanist,” Yoongi laments.

“Maybe,” Hoseok purses his heart-shaped lips. “It’s okay though, at least I know, right? You’re not a landscape architect, you’re a fun-architect and that has nothing to do with plants, it has everything to do with fun,” Hoseok grins.

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?” Yoongi asks, smiling.

“Hm, let’s see,” Hoseok strokes his chin, pretending to be lost in his thoughts. “So far you’ve only told me you hate me at least a few hundred times, and I think there were other insults, too, but annoying doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well, you are annoying,” Yoongi says, a smile too big and wide on his face to be taken seriously.

“I guess that’s better than pure hatred,” Hoseok concludes, nodding. “I’ll take it.”

“Just for the record,” Yoongi mumbles. “I don’t hate you.”

“That’s generous of you,” Hoseok nods, trying to feign nonchalance.

“I know. I’m a pretty generous person,” Yoongi adds.

“Oh, I could tell that when you smacked me. You put every ounce of energy into it,” Hoseok grins.

“Look…” Yoongi takes a moment to take a deep breath. “I’d apologize but, seeing it’s really Seokjin’s fault… he’s the one who should be apologizing. It’s really out of my hands,” Yoongi nods.

“That’s totally understandable,” Hoseok adds, enthusiastically nodding his head, gaze glued to Yoongi’s. It’s funny how a single conversation can be simultaneously so pleasant and terrifying.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page. Maybe we can get him to buy us dinner,” Yoongi suggests. Free dinner sounds like a good idea any time, but in this particular case—he’d gladly make Jin pay for it and then kick him out of the equation.

Hoseok gives him a nod and a big smile and, before Yoongi knows it, they’re already planning the most efficient way to pillage Jin. It’s nice, really nice, how Hoseok’s words echo in his mind for a long time after he leaves. It’s really nice how he smiles, too.

The last thing Yoongi does before going to sleep is check the news. It’s nothing; he’s just curious about the events from around the globe and also, he’s really curious to see if there’s a flying pig that’s made headlines somewhere.

No big deal.



Despite an actual agreement to avoid each other, Yoongi takes it rather personally when Hoseok doesn’t show up the next day. Yoongi doesn’t consider the possibility that Hoseok is a busy person with a busy life, and that his absence most likely has nothing to do with him. He’s fed the cat in the morning and then again in the afternoon, and it’s really not his fault Yoongi had too much work to do and couldn’t drop by to water the plants earlier in the day.

It’s a coincidence or something even less significant, but Yoongi can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

Maybe Hoseok really doesn’t like him and he’d rather not put up with him. Maybe he really is a sweetheart and doesn’t want to make things even worse between them.

It’s been six days, for crying out loud. That can’t be enough time to fall for somebody, Yoongi is absolutely positive. With every person he’s ever been into, it’s taken him at least a few weeks to start developing inklings of feelings, not to mention it’s taken him months to actually do anything about it.

With his last relationship, it took longer for it to happen than it did for it to crumble and fall apart, but Yoongi doesn’t want to go there. That doesn’t matter. What matters is how just six days ago, Hoseok’s presence was unbearable, and now it’s his absence that’s unbearable—Yoongi misses him when he’s not there, misses seeing his ridiculous shoes and his pretty hair. And, okay, it’s freaking him out.

It’s been six days and it’s freaking Yoongi out.

And when the seventh day rolls around the corner and Hoseok shows up with the world’s brightest smile, it freaks Yoongi out even more.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi wonders, watering can firmly secured in his hand as water pours out of it, dousing the soil in the pot. Hoseok turns his head to look at Yoongi, eyes bloodshot and teary from the onions.

“Sure,” he sniffles, making various grimaces to showcase his suffering. Yoongi can’t help but grin.

“Do you think I’m an asshole?” Yoongi asks, not really knowing why. For some reason Jin’s reassurance wasn’t sufficient.

“Asshole?” Hoseok blinks a few times, tears rolling down his cheeks. He lifts his hand to brush the tears away. “Not anymore.”

“So, you thought I was an asshole a week ago?”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok begins, only to correct himself immediately. “Do you not remember how we met?” he frowns.

“No, I do,” Yoongi shakes his head. “Okay, but if we forget about the knocking out part,” he purses his lips.

“Then that’s an entirely different situation,” Hoseok shrugs. “I don’t know if you’re an asshole though, I’ve known you for a week.”


“Does it matter?” Hoseok looks at him curiously.

Yoongi doesn’t know why, but his heart sinks a little. Does it not matter to Hoseok? Any of it?

“No, you’re right,” Yoongi shakes his head. “Seven days is nothing, right?”

“Exactly,” Hoseok adds before bringing his focus back on the onions.

Seven days.

God, those two words sting more than onions.

“Give me another week and I’ll have a better estimate,” Hoseok adds, Yoongi’s face immediately lighting up.

“Another week?”

“Do you need more? How about another two weeks?” Hoseok offers.

“Maybe make it three weeks, just to make sure,” Yoongi bargains. “It’s better if it’s a whole month.”

“Okay, but promise me one thing,” Hoseok glances at him. “If it turns out you are an asshole, don’t hit me again. I propose truce, in advance, just to be safe.”

“Fine,” Yoongi grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The feeling looming inside his chest as Hoseok grins back at him tells Yoongi something he doesn’t want to hear. It screams, shouts, shrieks warnings at him, but Yoongi does his best to silence it.

It’s chaos right there, and he’s inviting it into his home, into his heart, hoping it won’t leave a big mess behind. 



Sunday is the only day Yoongi gets to himself—no work, no stress, no socializing. Sometimes it’s all he needs after a long week, but today he’s making an exception. If it wasn’t for Jin and Namjoon’s return from their trip, he wouldn’t be getting out of his toasty bed at the peak of dawn, but the reality is different. So, he goes to pick them up from the airport.

And no, Yoongi doesn’t lead an eco-friendly lifestyle by choice; he was rather forced to resort to it after his car ended up at the mechanic’s. Thankfully, though, it’s back and he can say goodbye to the crowded bus and the excessively long rides to Namjoon’s apartment.

But Yoongi supposes it’s not the bus’s fault he’s saying goodbye; rather Namjoon’s.

The fact that he doesn’t have to water the plants anymore is a relief, sure, but there’s also the fact that he has no reason to see Hoseok now. He hasn’t exactly befriended him (though friendship isn’t what he wants from Hoseok), and there’s no reason to reach out to him. Well, besides the fact that he wants to, but there’s still the possibility of Hoseok hating him. Yoongi isn’t exactly sure what to do.

Yoongi tries asking the couple about their trip but Jin—sleep-deprived—rambles and makes a lot of incoherent noises so Yoongi proposes a dinner date instead, which the duo wholeheartedly agree with.

“Hyung, you’re buying, right? It was your idea,” Namjoon snickers.

“It’d be funny if you went back to the apartment to find all of your plants gone,” Yoongi deadpans, Namjoon’s face going completely pale.

“Please don’t give him a heart attack,” Jin sighs. “And we’re buying dinner to thank you for everything.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of the apartment, obviously,” Jin raises his eyebrows.

“It wasn’t just me—”

“I already invited Hoseok, but if you want, we can make those dinners separate,” Jin says.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Yoongi smiles. “Dinner with Hoseok is fine.”

“Is it?” Jin gives him a look.

“Yes,” Yoongi repeats.

“Wanna come upstairs?” Jin offers after a yawn, Yoongi shaking his head. “Are you sure?”

“You two should get some sleep and also, if I fucked up the plants, I don’t want Namjoon to murder me, so,” Yoongi grins. “I’ll see you tonight.”



Dinner isn’t a big deal. Yoongi has them all the time; sometimes he cooks for people, sometimes he goes out to eat. Other times he has dinner by himself, but more often than not he has company; either his coworkers or Jin and Namjoon, and sometimes he even catches up with old college buddies. Yoongi loves food so he loves eating out, and dinner with Jin and Namjoon is always enjoyable.

It’s not his first nor last dinner with the two of them. The thing is—Hoseok doesn’t show up.

Jin tries to explain why with his mouth full of beef, and Yoongi leans back in his chair, holding the glass of wine in his hand. Yoongi listens but doesn’t hear him; his mind is already too busy replaying the sound of Hoseok’s voice too loudly, and he’s stuck in a strange loop of wishing Hoseok was here and trying to make himself not feel this way.

For the first time ever, Yoongi wishes he wasn’t at dinner with Jin and Namjoon, and that in itself is a big deal.

“What is up with you?” Jin asks with a frown.


“You’ve barely said two words all evening,” Jin’s frown deepens. “Is everything okay at work?”

“At work?” Yoongi asks, surprised, and his mind quickly makes a few connections. Sure, blame it on the workload. “It’s stressful at the moment, yeah. We’re hoping to work on this big project, it’s…”

It’s not that stressful. Yoongi enjoys it. The only stressful part is anticipating the final decision. Now, Yoongi doesn’t necessarily tie success to big projects; he enjoys working on smaller ones, even though a project like this could be a big career boost for him. Still, he’s young, talented and capable—if this project doesn’t happen, there’ll be another one. Yoongi appreciates the work he does in a unique way.

“It’s stressful, yeah, it’s a lot,” Yoongi lies.

“Ah, I see,” Jin mumbles, taking a sip of wine.

“Is Jungkook gonna work with you? I mean, if you get it,” Namjoon asks.

“I’d like that. I think he’d want it too, but first we have to see how it plays out. It’s fine, though,” Yoongi concludes. “Tell me how’s work. Is your boss still the embodiment of pure evil?” he cackles.

“He is,” Jin rolls his eyes. “There’s this charity event he’s planned for next month. A fundraiser or something,” Jin explains.


“Don’t be fooled, though. It’s not because he cares about anything or anyone, he just wants a fancy photo in the newspaper and some credit to his name.”

“Wow, that’s disgusting,” Yoongi widens his eyes.

“It is. You’re invited by the way, and it’s non-negotiable. Black tie also non-negotiable.”


“Please, if I invite enough people he’ll get off my dick. Just wear something pretty, show up and drink all the wine you want. Bringing influential people is gonna be a good boost for my career,” Jin explains, flashing him his most irresistible pair of puppy eyes.

“I’m not influential,” Yoongi makes a grimace.

“Look, you’re an architect and that sounds fancy enough to him. Besides, it’s gonna be at this new building and it’s all high ceilings and glass everywhere. It’s like a dream of yours, I’m sure.”

“Oh?” Yoongi widens his eyes, suddenly interested in the event.

“Like I said; just show up, shake his hand once and pretend to have donated this huge sum. Then you’re free to roam around and stare at the walls for all I care, just don’t get a boner. By the way, Hoseok’s gonna be there, too.”

“Why would I get a boner around Hoseok—”

“I meant don’t get your architectural boner up around all that modern construction or whatever,” Jin gives him a strange look. “But it’s good to know where you’re at with Hoseok.”

“Seriously, what’s going on with you two?” Namjoon interjects, Yoongi’s cheeks flushed.

“Absolutely nothing,” Yoongi insists. “We’re civil, that’s it.”

“Oh, good,” Jin says. “Anyway, so we’re moving in together,” Jin changes the subject.

Yoongi listens to all of their plans for decorating the apartment, witnesses a brief disagreement about where to put all of the plants, and then offers advice about which plate pattern they should choose. Plates are important, Jin explains, but Yoongi supposes everything is important when moving in with someone.

They’re already so important that every detail about and around them is important.

Yoongi doesn’t need a person to choose plate patterns with. He doesn’t crave a person to share his bed with, nor does he need a serious relationship in his life. But maybe some company would be nice, and maybe Hoseok’s company in particular would be even nicer. Yoongi dares making those assumptions, as scary as it is.

Hoseok’s company would be nice, always, and Yoongi knows all he has to do is ask for it. All he has to do is ask for Hoseok to show him how warm he is. Whatever the outcome, the world won’t stop spinning, the walls won’t come down crumbling. It’ll either be the same or very different; it’ll either stay calm or it won’t.

Chaos has already entered his life, though, the moment he smacked Hoseok with that watering can. And this time, Yoongi really wants to pull its sleeve and beg for it to stay, because for the first time in a long time, he thinks it might be good for him.

Maybe he doesn’t need a plan. Maybe he doesn’t have to have everything figured out. Maybe he should just let it happen.

“You think I should start dating again?” Yoongi blurts all of a sudden, Jin and Namjoon glancing at him, surprised.

What he really wants to ask is ‘do you think I should ask Hoseok out’; he precisely wants to pose that question because he wants to ask Hoseok out, just Hoseok, but he opts for subtleness instead. For now.

“If you’re ready,” Jin nods. “Then yes.”

“There’s this guy I work with, I think you’d be into him,” Namjoon suggests.

“I’m not gonna date a biologist,” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because he probably has a million plants just like you do, and I don’t wanna go through that again. I’d rather babysit someone’s dog.”

“You know, not all biologists are into plants. Where did you get that from, anyway?” Namjoon makes a grimace. “But anyway, I guess that means that the guy with the two cats is out of the picture,” Namjoon strokes his chin.

“I don’t hate cats,” Yoongi says.

“Nah, he’s out of the picture,” Namjoon grins. “He plants trees in his free time.”

“Well, I never said trees weren’t good for the planet,” Yoongi makes a grimace, but then remembers he doesn’t actually want to date any of those people, regardless of plants.

“Alright, I’ll see if there’s anyone sane at my firm,” Jin adds. “Maybe I can introduce you to somebody at the event, what do you say?”

“I’m not so sure,” Yoongi scrunches his nose.

“Why not?”

“The people you work with are all terrible.”

“That’s absolutely incorrect!” Jin argues.

“Okay, name one who isn’t Taehyung,” Yoongi raises his brows and Jin sits in silence.

“Damn, that was my answer,” Jin laments. “If I find anyone, I’ll let you know.”

“You don’t have to actively search for a potential date for me,” Yoongi frowns. “I can do it myself, thank you very much.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Jin snickers. “But if I see someone who isn’t completely terrible, I’ll introduce you.”

Yoongi agrees to that because he’s dumb. Here he is; trying to be brave and not an idiot about Hoseok, while simultaneously agreeing to a potential date with someone he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t want to date. All he wants is one date with Hoseok so he can look at his pretty eyes and pretty lips and let his heart revel in wonder for a few hours. That’s all he wants, and that’s the whole step he’s willing to take.



The event takes place in a modern, new skyscraper with windows as tall as the walls and hard, concrete floors. It’s a rigidly geometric corporate building with vast rooms on high stories overlooking the city. Perhaps it would be deemed sterile if not for the divine, colorful paintings on the walls, contrasting the dullness and monochromatics of the space.

An extravagant chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the lobby, filling the room with lustrous light, adding to the fancy atmosphere. Yoongi would argue it’s unfitting to the ambience; he’d choose dim candles or simple light fixtures throughout the vast space, perhaps geometrically shaped to fit the atmosphere better.

The chandelier is an outlier, but Yoongi weirdly empathizes with it, standing in the lobby in his most expensive suit, a fake, sour smile on his face as Jin introduces him to various people. The one glass of wine in his hand isn’t enough to sustain him; he’s going to need to get very drunk very fast in order to endure the rest of the night.

The worst of them all is Jin’s boss, hands down, and Yoongi contemplates punching him several times during his pompous speech. When he finally leaves, Yoongi turns to Jin, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Tell me where the wine is or so help me god,” he groans, Jin letting out a pathetic whimper in response.

“I know, I’m sorry, he’s absolutely insufferable,” he says, a fake smile cemented on his face as he guides Yoongi through the crowd. “You may get plastered now,” he says, gesturing to the open bar, and Yoongi lets out a deep breath of relief.

“Thank you, thank you,” he says, and Jin pulls his sleeve before he can escape and be reunited with the nectar of gods.

“Yoongi, there’s still a few people I’d like you to meet, okay? Don’t run away.”

“Oh god, why,” Yoongi whines. Jin gives him a soft smile and a pat on the back before someone calls his name. Turning around on his heel swiftly, Jin gets lost in the crowd, and Yoongi goes straight for the alcohol.

Yoongi’s first drink is something debatably drinkable although undoubtedly expensive; he downs the shot, the strong liquid burning his tongue and throat, his stomach already squirming in protest. The second drink is something sweet and less traumatic, reminding Yoongi of sugar-canes and lollipops, gliding down his throat with ease. It’s as sweet as the voice that hums behind him, and Yoongi immediately winces, his eyes darting at the figure leaning against the bar.


Yoongi can’t peel his eyes off him; Hoseok in a black suit, dark hair parted and forehead exposed, standing there looking breathtakingly handsome.

“You look like you’ve just heard the worst news in your life, are you okay?” he asks, taking a step forward. Yoongi feels like all oxygen has been punched out of his lungs suddenly as he tries to recollect and put himself together.

But how could he put himself together when there’s Hoseok, looking like that in a black suit that suits him perfectly, a playful smile dancing on his lips.  

“The things I’ve heard tonight,” Yoongi laments, holding the empty glass in his hand. “Jin promised free booze but those stories are not worth it,” he concludes dramatically. “And this is disgusting.”

“Is it?” Hoseok purses his lips, observing Yoongi’s empty glass.

“I think I’m just gonna stick with wine for the rest of the night,” Yoongi shrugs.

“How long before you can escape?” Hoseok chuckles.

“Ah, I don’t know. Not long, I hope, but Jin already told me not to leave ‘cause he wants to introduce me to some people. I bet they’re all horrible.”

“Wanna make a bet who’s the most horrible out of all of them?” Hoseok gives him a look.

“I don’t wanna interact with any of them, god,” Yoongi covers his face. “Jin didn’t try introducing you to anyone?”

“A few people, yeah, but I’ve been mostly hiding,” Hoseok snickers. “His boss, though,” he makes a disgusted grimace, eyebrows raised.

“I know, he’s quite literally the worst person I’ve ever met,” Yoongi concludes decisively. “But hiding? That’s smart. Maybe I should hide.”

“You should. Take that bottle of wine with you and when Jin asks you why you left, you can tell him you were looking for him all night. He’ll get hammered too, so he won’t remember,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Hoseok, you’re a genius.”

“Ah, thank you,” he grins brightly.

“You should come with me, though.”


“Yeah, somebody has to document my presence in the building.”

“Can’t you just take a photo of yourself?” Hoseok narrows his eyebrows.

“Really? You’re gonna let me go hide in a closet with a bottle of wine like some loser? I thought we were acquaintances,” Yoongi says, the petulant sulk on his face charming enough to convince Hoseok.

“Fine, I’ll go with you, but we’re taking two bottles then.”


They snag the two bottles after Hoseok charms the bartender, and Yoongi hurriedly escapes the lobby with the wine in his hands. Behind the massive, bulky staircase, there’s a perfect hiding spot. Yoongi’s eyes detect it and he waddles over, glancing behind to check on Hoseok who’s trying to make his way through the crowd with the biggest smile on his face.

Yoongi thinks two bottles of wine might not be enough.

Hoseok sees him and subtly slips out of the crowd, hastily walking through the small, narrow hallway to where Yoongi is crouching.

“Did you get the glasses?” Yoongi asks nonchalantly.

“Oh, no, I can go back—”

“That’s okay,” Yoongi concludes as he opens the bottle. “Seeing all these snobby people makes me want to not drink wine from a fancy glass,” he says and makes himself comfortable on the cold floor, and Hoseok just keeps smiling at him.

“Should I take a picture of you now?” Hoseok asks, referring to their previous agreement which has completely slipped Yoongi’s mind.

“Huh? What, why?”

“’Cause you told me to,” Hoseok frowns. It takes Yoongi a moment or two to remember, and the realization is accompanied by a snort. “For Jin hyung, remember?”

“Oh, right, sure,” Yoongi nods, grabbing the other bottle from the floor. Hoseok pulls his phone out of his pocket, smiling wide and bright, and takes a few shots of Yoongi’s ridiculous pose, holding two bottles of wine with a silly grimace.

“Perfect,” he nods before finally joining Yoongi on the floor. “Oh, while we’re at it,” he winces, fingers gliding across the screen. Yoongi looks at him curiously, patiently waiting for whatever it is that Hoseok wants to show him.

If he wants to show him a photo, that’s okay. If he wants to show him the world, that’s okay too.

“So, I have your evaluation,” Hoseok begins dramatically.

“My evaluation?”

“It’s been four weeks, right? Well, I got the full report right here,” Hoseok continues. “The final verdict in the case ‘asshat Min Yoongi’.”

“I believe the proper term was ass-hole,” Yoongi scrunches his nose. He can’t help but grin stupidly at Hoseok who seems to be taking the situation seriously.

“Those are just technicalities and most likely positively correlated.”

“Alright, give me report, then,” Yoongi nods.

“Okay,” Hoseok clears his throat, eyes focused on the screen. “In the past month you’ve been present a total of ten times, two of which included physical contact.”

“If your car and I made physical contact that day, I wouldn’t be here right now,” Yoongi observes.

“Oh, that’s true,” Hoseok gives him a look. “So, just one physical contact with the watering can.”


“Moving along,” Hoseok continues. “Five of those included descriptive, vivid, creative insults—”

“God,” Yoongi can’t help but laugh. “Get to the point, please.”

“The point is that you’re not an asshole but you should probably work on your first impressions,” Hoseok concludes, lips pursed as he slips the phone back into the pocket.

“Excuse me, but I leave excellent first impressions,” Yoongi scoffs.

“I would have to disagree.”

“Well, okay, let me make a first impression again.”

“I don’t think you understand how first impressions work,” Hoseok gives him a strange look.

“No, listen,” Yoongi lifts the bottle. “Since we’re already trapped here, we can pretend to be these snobby, idiotic people and walk around making fools of ourselves.”

“So you want us to pretend like we don’t know each other so you could make a first impression again?”

“Yes, but you’re forgetting one crucial detail,” Yoongi pauses. “Wine.”

Hoseok’s laugh is loud enough to set off the fireworks in Yoongi’s head.

“I thought you were a serious person,” Hoseok grins as he effortlessly stands up, Yoongi looking at him with a beseeching expression. Hoseok offers him a hand to help him up, and Yoongi takes it.

“I am a serious person,” Yoongi whines. “I’m taking this bottle of wine very seriously.”

He was right. Hoseok’s hands are warm.

They manage to find two glasses before Yoongi insists they part ways. The first two drinks aren’t particularly effective. It’s when he’s on his third glass that Yoongi feels a wave of relaxation flood him, his inhibitions lowered, smile now wider and sillier.

Yoongi has a good time mingling through the crowd; serving absurd, made-up stories of his achievements that seem to thoroughly impress everyone he stumbles upon. At some point, Jin’s hawk eyes detect him in the crowd and recognize his drunk face, and he almost goes to drag him off the floor before Yoongi runs away. Luckily, Jin is busy enough making small-talk with his colleagues and trying to impress certain people that he doesn’t put too much effort into shooing Yoongi.

And several moments later, that brings Yoongi to the starting point.

Hoseok is standing near the bar again, a glass half-full of colorless liquor in his hand, laughing sweetly at the person standing in front of him. Yoongi stops to look at him for a moment, observing Hoseok’s over the top facial expressions and hand gesticulations. The way he wiggles his eyebrows cracks Yoongi up, his gummy smile on full display.

Yoongi enters Hoseok’s field of view and he makes a straight, dramatic face, excusing himself from the company of the stranger. Then, as if he’s dancing tango, he makes his way to the barstool, movements dramatic and seductive, but his eyes give him away. Yoongi can tell he’s on the verge of bursting into laughter, and he can tell he’s already at least tipsy, a sudden realization dawning on him.

This is the most fun Yoongi’s had in months. What he dreaded would be the single worst evening of his entire adult life has turned into something so enjoyable that he can barely believe it. It’s Hoseok, Yoongi knows it.

Hoseok has a way of making things fun, he has a way of taking something distant and cold, and turning it into something gleaming and beautiful. It’s what he’s done to Yoongi, anyway, making his initial cold stare melt into the loveliest smile when he’s around him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Yoongi speaks in a low, husky tone, leaning his forearm on the wooden surface of the bar. Hoseok looks at him intently, doing his best to keep a straight face while his eyes glisten.

“Yes?” he replies, voice equally as low and soothing, making Yoongi’s heart race and stop beating interchangeably.

“There seems to be an urgent situation here,” Yoongi says calmly. “I’ve come here to save you.”

“Oh?” Hoseok looks at him, curiosity growing in his eyes.

“Yes, well, your glass seems to be empty and we can’t have such a fine gentleman sitting here with an empty glass in hand,” Yoongi explains, Hoseok failing to suppress a snort.

“Ah, I see,” Hoseok replies, lips wanting to curve into the biggest smile.

“There’s several options,” Yoongi says, leaning a bit closer. “We have our finest wines made from the finest, ripest grapes harvested in the greenest wine yards,” Yoongi explains, poised and collected, while his heart is doing somersaults all over again. “Or perhaps you’d like whiskey, strong and bold like yourself.”

“Strong and bold?” Hoseok loses it at this point and bursts into laughter, and Yoongi can’t help but join him, trying to recollect as tears fill up his eyes. God, he could just laugh and laugh and never stop laughing around Hoseok.

“Perhaps you’d fancy a glass of soju; distilled in the finest breweries of Seoul, sharp and flaming on your tongue.”

At this point, Yoongi has no idea what he’s blabbering about, but Hoseok’s smile tells him to keep going. He sits on the barstool beside Hoseok and continues presenting alcoholic beverages to Hoseok, both of them clueless and drunk.

“So, you think I’m strong and bold?” Hoseok grins after opting for a glass of golden whiskey on the rocks.

“It might be the suit,” Yoongi replies diplomatically, eliciting another wide smile from Hoseok.

“Ah, yes, this is my fancy suit,” Hoseok nods.

“It is really fancy,” Yoongi adds.

“As is yours,” Hoseok grins.

“It is, but yours is fancier because you have a fancy face,” Yoongi blurts. Hoseok’s smile goes from radiant to almost sultry, and Yoongi has no idea how to go about it.

“I have a fancy face?”

“Very fancy,” Yoongi nods, staring at his almost empty glass of expensive whiskey. “You have very fancy… lips,” Yoongi dares to say, his mouth immediately feeling like a dried dam, and he gulps the remainder of the liquor to quench the thirst.

“Is that so?” Hoseok tilts his head, his eyes no longer glistening, no longer reminding Yoongi of sunshine and sparkles. Now they’re deeper, more attentive and focused, a gorgeous hue of dark brown Yoongi can’t get out of his head.

“Well, there’s that heart shape that’s really, uh,” he mumbles, trying to get himself out of the situation he’s created. “Unique.”

There’s no way Hoseok hasn’t already heard that exact comment about his lips, but that description leaving Yoongi’s mouth feels more significant. It’s like when other people notice it, they’re just using their eyes and making observations, but when Yoongi notices it, it means… it means he’s been looking, probably thinking about it, and that thought alone is enough to make Hoseok want to show him what kissing his heart-shaped mouth feels like.

Yoongi wants to know what it feels like. The realization that he wants to kiss Hoseok doesn’t hit him like a comet. It’s simply a thought that enters his mind and he welcomes it, lets it settle there without any fuss.

Yoongi wants to kiss Hoseok. Hoseok wants to kiss Yoongi, too, but…

They don’t kiss.

Instead, they get up and wander around, talking about complete nonsense. At some point they link arms, walking around like an actual couple which could’ve easily freaked out Yoongi had it not been for the amounts of alcohol in his system.


Jin shrieks through the crowd, voice muffled by the loud music. Yoongi hears him, decides not to turn around and simply starts running, pulling Hoseok behind him. Maybe Jin wants to introduce him to more people, which Yoongi doesn’t want, or maybe he wants to scold him for the absurd stories he’s been feeding his coworkers all evening. Either way, he has to escape Jin’s wrath. They run, nearly tripping a few times, until they reach a deserted hallway and take a few random turns.

Yoongi’s eyes land on a smaller staircase, possibly leading to more offices or conference rooms, and he simply leads the way while Hoseok pants behind him. They climb the stairs and find themselves in a big room with more tall windows, illuminated by the city lights shining from the outside.

Cars look like nothing but moving dots this far away, and streetlights resemble little stars, twinkling and sparkling underneath the calm, night sky. Yoongi takes a moment to stare at it through the massive windows, before he turns his head to look at Hoseok.

The cityscape sure is breathtaking, but Hoseok’s beauty puts it to shame.

“This is really… nice,” Hoseok drawls, speech slurred from the drinks he’s had, and Yoongi can’t find his voice to reply. They make themselves comfortable on the floor, careless about getting their expensive suits dirty, and lean against the wall. It’s silent for a while as they gaze at the view in front of their eyes, until Yoongi turns his head to Hoseok, eyelids heavy with sleepiness.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” he mumbles, a shy smile on his lips.

“That’s okay,” Hoseok says. “I’m not.”

“Really? Why?”

“Maybe that had to happen for us to meet and,” Hoseok pauses. “I’m glad we did. I don’t meet people like you every day.”

Yoongi wants to retort like a smartass and say it’s a blessing he doesn’t meet people who hit him with a plastic object, but he can’t seem to put those words together. They’re also less important than the other thing on his mind; the thing he luckily manages to mumble out.

“People like me?”

“Yeah, people like you,” Hoseok smiles.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think so,” Hoseok replies, darting a glance at Yoongi.

“In that case… I’m glad I hit you,” Yoongi drawls, smiling blissfully.

“And I’m glad I didn’t hit you with my car,” Hoseok adds, bursting into laughter.

“That would’ve been very unfortunate,” Yoongi grins.

“Tell me, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok closes his eyes. “Our one month expired. We don’t have to see each other ever again,” he says, Yoongi’s heart immediately sinking somewhere deep, somewhere hollow.

“Oh, of course,” he mumbles, staring at the city view. “Thank god.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you if you’d be interested in continuing this acquaintanceship,” Hoseok asks quietly.



“I’d be, uh, interested,” Yoongi looks at him, eyes gleaming.

“You would?”

“Yeah, I mean, I never got around to doing your evaluation,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Then you absolutely should. I need to know if I’m an asshole or not.”

“We’ll have your results in thirty days, sir.”


Neither of them know what they’re talking about; all they want is more of each other’s time, all they want is an excuse to bother each other just a little bit longer. It’s nice, it’s so incredibly pleasant that it leaves them both in awe. It started as a complicated, hostile intolerance for one another and now it’s…

Now they just want to stick around a little bit longer.

Now all they want to do is kiss.

But they don’t.



Yoongi’s been hungover many times, so he’s used to the agony and the suffering that follow the next day. Yoongi’s Sunday is spent in bed, buried under layers of blanket which he only leaves for prompt visits to the bathroom. It’s unpleasant, to say the least, but he survives.

The thing about this specific hangover is that Yoongi still has a headache on Monday. His headache intensifies after a brief phone call from Jin, who finally manages to give him a lecture about his behavior during the event but ends the call by sheepishly telling him he’s actually impressed his boss.

Jin murmurs something about a job offer, but Yoongi says he’d rather eat chalk than work with that human atrocity.

“Hyung, hyung,” Jungkook beams, appearing with two cups of coffee as he normally does. Yoongi covers his forehead with a hand, sighing deeply as he waits for his headache to pass. Jungkook asks if he’s okay, and Yoongi wonders if lately his life has been more of a mess than usual.  

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m still hungover,” Yoongi groans.

“I barely even saw you at the party,” Jungkook comments. “The fundraiser, I mean. When did you take off?”

“I’m pretty sure I left around dawn, but I don’t remember how,” Yoongi says, shocking Jungkook.

“Whoa, hyung,” he grins. “Did you meet anyone there?”

“I met a bunch of people I’d pay to never see again,” Yoongi makes a grimace.

“Yeah, most of them are kind of…”

“Condescending, snooty, full of themselves? Yeah,” Yoongi nods. “I don’t know why Jin and Taehyung don’t get the fuck out of there.”

“I think they will, eventually,” Jungkook says. “But wait, where were you all night?”

“Actually,” Yoongi bites his lip, feeling shivers travel down his spine. “If you must know, I was with Hoseok. We had a good time. We talked a lot and kept hiding from all those assholes. Jin already lectured me about it,” he chuckles.

“Hoseok? Hyung!” Jungkook whines loudly, getting the unwanted attention from their co-workers. After flashing them an apologetic smile, he lowers his head and stares at Yoongi. “What do you mean—Hoseok? Tell me everything.”

“I would, but we don’t really have time for chit-chat,” Yoongi gives him a look.

“You are not getting away with this, there’s no way,” Jungkook says firmly. Yoongi smiles.

“I’ll tell you at lunch, okay? I really have a ton of work to do, and I’m pretty sure you do too.”

“Fine,” Jungkook squints his eyes. “If you try to escape, I’ll hunt you down.”

“Please,” Yoongi scoffs, provoking Jungkook to actually flex his muscles and glare at him. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you at lunch, now be gone, you pest.”

Jungkook is a great friend and a great co-worker, but he’s also stubborn as hell. Once he sets his mind on something, there’s nothing stopping him from getting his way. Yoongi is quite familiar with the concept, often supporting Jungkook’s determined, ambitious drive, but when it concerns him personally, he isn’t thrilled.

Jungkook decides to take Yoongi to a restaurant for their lunch break, order good food and listen intently. Yoongi had planned on having his sack lunch at his desk, but Jungkook drags him out of the office and, before Yoongi knows it, they’re in Jungkook’s car on the way to the restaurant.

The place Jungkook chooses is an all-time favorite of his. More specifically, it’s his and Taehyung’s favorite place, and Yoongi already knows he’s going to have to talk about Hoseok. Express his emotions. Get over himself and admit.

The restaurant is in an industrial style; a lot of slate grays and browns wherever he looks, with potted and hanging plants in every corner. It’s subtle, though, and Yoongi would have to say that he likes the place, and he especially likes the meat.

“Taehyung said you bumped into him at some point and didn’t even realize,” Jungkook comments, picking up a juicy piece of grilled pork. “How drunk were you? Or should I ask how drunk in love are you?” he adds, sassiness exuding from him.

“Jeon Jungkook,” Yoongi groans. “I’m not in love.”

“Please just don’t say you don’t like Hoseok,” Jungkook sighs, unimpressed.

“No, I won’t say that. I do like him,” Yoongi frowns. “I like him.”

“Oh,” Jungkook looks at him, forgetting about the piece of pork lodged between the chopsticks. “Oh, I really didn’t see this coming. I thought you’d be in denial or something.”

“Yeah, well, what’s the point of that,” Yoongi pauses.

“Oh, no, not that again,” Jungkook laments.


“Are you gonna say how there’s no point in having feelings? Or telling Hoseok about it?”

No, I wasn’t gonna say that,” Yoongi frowns. “Why do you keep interrupting me and why do you always expect the worst?”

“’Cause it’s always the worst with you,” Jungkook says, but softly. Cautiously.

“Ouch,” Yoongi glances away.

“Hyung,” Jungkook looks at him lovingly. “You always feel everything so deeply. Love hits you like a rock and you lose yourself in it. And when it’s done, when it ends, you can’t get over it. It’s always this—this sort of euphoria. You get so swept away; it takes you a long time to put yourself back together again.”

“That’s not what love is,” Yoongi murmurs, frowning. “That’s infatuation. That’s… lust, I guess. It’s not what love is supposed to feel like.”

“It’s not,” Jungkook agrees silently, tilting his head.

“This is the calmest I’ve ever felt,” Yoongi looks at him, eyes glistening. “I feel calm. I feel… I don’t feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. It’s scary, sure, but it’s also… The fear isn’t overwhelming me ‘s what I’m trying to say.”

“Really? I thought Hoseok was… well, according to your stories, way over the top.”

“He’s not,” Yoongi shakes his head. “I mean, he kind of is, but what I feel around him isn’t.”


“I always thought I needed someone to balance me out; someone who’s either exactly like me so I’d feel like I’m in my comfort zone, or someone who’s a polar opposite. I thought I would need to be with someone who would make me feel more, who’d make me feel all these intense things.”

“What’s Hoseok like?”

“Hoseok is… different.”

“Did you figure out what that means?”

“I think... I just feel like I’m myself, and like it’s good enough. Because he’s so different, but I still get to be the same, you know? Like I don’t have to step on the deck, but I still get to feel the ocean. It’s like he brings the ocean to me.”

“Deck?” Jungkook looks at him in confusion.

“It’s this weird analogy I made up, it’s… it doesn’t matter. The point is,” Yoongi bites his lip. “I like him. I’m not freaking out about it. I think we’re different, but I think it’s a good thing. I think it’d be a good thing, honestly.”

“I did not see this coming,” Jungkook comments with the biggest smile on his face. “I thought you’d get defensive about it. I was ready to bribe you with all this meat,” he says, chuckling.

“Oh, so you’re not paying for lunch?” Yoongi grins.

“Are you gonna tell him about it?” Jungkook ignores his question.

“I think… I think I should. Yeah, I think I will,” Yoongi says, glancing through the window. “Oh my god.”

Jungkook turns his head to look through the window himself, Yoongi’s cheeks flustered, heart pounding like crazy.

It’s Hoseok, of course it’s Hoseok, and he’s walking down the street with a big box in his hands, followed by a slightly shorter man. They’re smiling from ear to ear, carrying these seemingly heavy boxes, and they stop to put them on the ground for a moment to catch their breaths, bursting into laughter.

“Oh, oh, is that him?” Jungkook squeals.

“Oh god, what if he sees me,” Yoongi leans back in his chair, eyes peeled to the duo across the street.

“Hyung, he’s very handsome,” Jungkook nods, staring at them.

“You think?” Yoongi asks sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “The other one is, too, but I can totally see why you’d like Hoseok.”

“Please don’t say I have a type.”

“No, he’s just very handsome,” Jungkook makes a grimace. “Who’s his friend?”

“Huh,” Yoongi takes a good look. “I don’t really know,” he frowns. “Jungkook, what if they’re dating?”

“Why, because they’re walking down the street together? Hyung, please,” Jungkook frowns.

“No, but look at them,” Yoongi laments.

“I see two people carrying boxes and having regrets,” Jungkook offers. “If they were dating, they’d stop to kiss.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t.”

“They would,” Jungkook’s frown deepens. “Are you panicking? Is this you panicking because of what you just said?”

“I’m not panicking, but what are the chances that he’d be walking down the street right now?”

“It must be destiny,” Jungkook teases.

“Okay, but what if he’s dating somebody else?” Yoongi ponders.

“I think you should just ask Seokjin hyung,” Jungkook nods. “But it doesn’t seem like he’d be sending you all these signals if he wasn’t into you.”

“You think he’s sending me signals?”

“Hyung, you smacked him with a watering can and he still wants to interact with you. I’m pretty sure he’s into you.”

 “I don’t know,” Yoongi covers his face, sighing deeply.

“To be fair, maybe he works nearby. We don’t usually eat here so you never really know how often he walks down this street. Seriously though, they didn’t kiss,” he says and the two disappear from their field of view, Yoongi leaning closer to the window to see better.

They get lost behind the corner, and Yoongi sighs.

By the time Yoongi gets home from work, the sky is already pitch black. Fall colors have faded into the darkness of the night, chilly breezes serving as a reminder that fall has arrived.

Yoongi takes a long, steamy shower in an attempt to relax, but it doesn’t help. He tries making a hot, tasty cup of tea to warm himself up, but still feels like something isn’t quite right.

It’s Hoseok, of course it is, and Yoongi can’t stop thinking about him and that guy no matter how hard he tries to distract himself.

He sits in his bed, TV turned on in the background, and he stares at the high ceiling. Hoseok’s laugh plays in his head on loop, overshadowing the noise from the show Yoongi normally likes to watch to unwind. It’s a silly reality show Yoongi watches, and lately he’s been thinking how Hoseok would surely want to watch it with him. Yoongi keeps thinking Hoseok would know how to appreciate the ridiculousness of it, and they’d eat snacks and laugh about it together, and maybe even fall asleep next to each other.

Or maybe they’d stay up really late and talk, just talk about everything and nothing at all, and maybe it would be the best thing in the whole world.

Yoongi picks up his phone, dials a number, and prepares himself for some yelling.

“You better be dying,” Jin groans on the other side of the line, and Yoongi actually feels sorry for waking him up. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, hyung, I wanted to ask you something,” Yoongi says, a feeling of guilt washing him over as he scratches the back of his head.

“This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“It’s—” Yoongi pauses to glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Barely even midnight,” he says sheepishly.

“What do you want?” Jin whines, probably rolling his eyes. Yoongi can feel it.

“I, uh, wanted to ask you if you knew, by any chance,” he hesitates to ask, but the annoyance in Jin’s voice motivates him to blurt it out. “Is Hoseok seeing anyone?”

“Did you really just wake me up to ask me this? I’ve been asleep for five hours.”

“Five hours? Christ,” Yoongi widens his eyes.

“I don’t think he’s seeing anyone, why?”

“I just… I saw him with someone today and I, dunno, I just wanted to check.”

“Is this how you tell me you have a thing for Jung Hoseok?”

“Maybe. I thought you knew.”

“I’m not a mind reader.”

“So, he’s not seeing anyone?”

“You do realize that I see him twice a week, right? He doesn’t exactly mention if he’s banging anyone.”

“Ah, fine.”

“Park Jimin, though.”

“Park Jimin?”

“His roommate. They work together—”

“Oh, oh, they were carrying boxes and they didn’t kiss!” Yoongi exclaims, Jungkook’s words in his head. Jin doesn’t speak for several moments.

“Well, anyway, maybe it was him you saw Hoseok with. I’d highly recommend asking Hoseok on a date though, if he’s seeing someone he’ll tell you. Or you could just ask him if he’s seeing anyone, you know. I’m not your mother, do what you want.”

“Okay, but how do I—”

“We can talk about this tomorrow; I’m going back to sleep. Next time you call me this late, your house better be in flames.”

“I can’t tell if this is a threat or not.”

“Choose wisely,” Jin says dramatically, Yoongi bursting into laughter.

Before hanging up, Jin texts Yoongi Hoseok’s number and tells him to get over himself and call him. Yoongi nearly has a panic attack because Hoseok’s phone number scares the living crap out of him, but he doesn’t dismiss the possibility. He falls asleep much later, with a stupid grin frozen on his face, thinking about a piglet with a cute pair of wings, soaring the skies somewhere far away.



[18:02] yg: hi hoseok

[18:02] yg: it’s yoongi

[18:03] yg: so i just wanted to ask if you have some time this week

[18:03] yg: you know for the evaluation purposes

[19:03] hs: hey yoongi ^-^

[19:03] yg: i swear to god.

[19:05] hs: hyung****

[19:05] hs: yoongi-ssi?? ^.^

[19:06] yg: better

[19:08] hs: i’m free tomorrow if you want

[19:08] hs: wanna come over after work?

[19:11] yg: oh

[19:15] hs: yes/no are acceptable answers

[19:17] yg: are u trying to lure me to your apartment

so you can hit me with a watering can

[19:17] hs: damn how’d you guess

[19:17] yg: i’m good at guessing

[19:18] hs: so,,,

[19:19] yg: okay i’ll come over

[19:19] yg: just don’t hit me i bruise like a peach

[19:25] hs: i won’t touch you

[19:27] yg: too bad

[19:35] hs: ಠ_ಠ

[19:36] yg: ha ha i got u

[19:37] yg: it’s a joke

[20:09] yg: hoseok it’s a joke

[20:15] hs: you’re a funny guy yoongi



Yoongi gets stuck in a traffic jam on his way over, and still manages to arrive before Hoseok. A chilly wind blows, so Yoongi hurriedly makes his way to the small apartment building, hiding his face in his warm shawl. Jimin buzzes him in, and while Yoongi makes his way upstairs, he receives approximately ten messages from Hoseok, apologizing for his absence.

Something about a flat tire, but Yoongi doesn’t care.

Jimin invites him inside, standing in front of him in a simple white tee, jeans, and round glasses framing his face.

“Ah, hi, you must be Yoongi,” he says, grinning, and Yoongi groans something in response. Once he’s out of his coat, he shakes Jimin’s hand and does his best to leave a good first impression.

Jimin makes some coffee before Hoseok finally shows up, panting and huffing as he barges into the apartment.

“I’m home!” he shrieks from the hallway, Yoongi almost choking on his coffee.

Hoseok enters the kitchen, leaving Yoongi breathless once more. He’s in a black shirt, black pants, hair pretty and styled, and he’s wearing his best accessory—a bright, happy smile.

“Yoongi-ssi,” he chirps. “So sorry to keep you waiting,” he says dramatically, Yoongi stupidly grinning at him.

“I’ll be out of your way,” Jimin smiles, saying goodbye to Yoongi before he leaves.

“Okay, so,” Hoseok says, pulling the fridge door open. “There’s a reason I invited you over,” he explains, looking over his shoulder.

“What reason?”

“It’s pretty serious,” Hoseok says, tone flat, and Yoongi’s heartbeat starts racing.

“Serious? Did something happen?” Yoongi asks cautiously. Then, Hoseok turns around with a massive plate in his hands. 

“We had a party,” Hoseok says dramatically. “Jimin’s birthday party. Look at all this leftover cake.”

Yoongi bursts out laughing, darting glances between the pink chocolate cake and Hoseok’s face.

“You should’ve said it was an emergency, I would’ve called in sick to work,” Yoongi says seriously. Hoseok brings the cake to the table, saunters over to the cabinet to pick up two plates and forks, and sits down next to Yoongi.

“I hope you like cake,” Hoseok pauses. “Otherwise my plan failed.”

“No, no, I like cake,” Yoongi grins. “Who doesn’t like cake?”

“I know, right?” Hoseok looks at him.

They dig in and talk for a long time. Hoseok’s apartment is homey; fluffy pillows and cozy blankets everywhere, scented candles on the coffee table and framed pictures adorning the walls. Yoongi gets a proper tour after they finish eating the cake, and he can’t help but go back to the hallway to look at the photos.

It’s a myriad of family photos, photos from school with their students, photos of just Hoseok and Jimin being silly together. Each one has a special place on the wall, each one uniquely framed. Looking at them warms Yoongi’s heart.

The photographs tell him stories he’s never heard before, draw lines in his mind that were never there. Yoongi feels warm, so warm.

“They graduated last year,” Hoseok says, pointing to the picture of himself with a class full of students. He’s just as handsome, just as wonderful, but the smile he has on the picture is something Yoongi’s never seen before. Hoseok smiles differently on that photograph.

“You really love your job, don’t you?” Yoongi looks at him softly.

“I do,” he nods. “It’s hard a lot of the times, but I think it’s rewarding,” he smiles. “These kids are really something else.”

“Tell me about them,” Yoongi tilts his head.

“It’s really… challenging, I think. High school. So much pressure to do all these things in such a short amount of time,” Hoseok speaks, looking at the photograph. “It’s like you suddenly have to decide what to do with the rest of your life. But how can you? They’re just kids,” he says, eyes glistening. “They’re really good kids. Great kids. I have so much fun with them,” he pauses, getting emotional. “They’ve taught me so much. So much.”

“Are you a strict professor?” Yoongi grins, Hoseok laughing, his heart warm.

“I try not to be but, work is work, you know? They’ve got to learn things,” he shrugs. “We try to organize extracurricular activities and stuff every once in a while. So they can blow off some steam and work on projects together, or just have fun,” he smiles. “Jimin and I come up with a lot of ideas. We don’t get to do them all, but we do what we can.”

“If hug was a person, it’d be you,” Yoongi says, face completely serious.

“What?” Hoseok asks, a bright smile on his face.

“Everything you just said is so… comforting, I guess,” Yoongi scrunches his nose. “Like a warm hug.”

“Well, I do give good hugs,” Hoseok grins.

“Maybe I’ll test that out one day, you know, for the evaluation,” Yoongi purses his lips, looking at Hoseok intently.

“Of course,” Hoseok nods, doing his best to stay collected. “What about you? How’s architecture treating you?”

“I can’t complain,” Yoongi smiles. “But I will,” he teases and they both burst into laughter.

Hoseok laughs with his whole body, and sometimes he leans on Yoongi and it’s really, really nice. Yoongi tells him all about his job, his colleagues and projects, and Hoseok just sits and listens. He adds a snarky comment here and there, but the rest of the time he spends smiling warmly, paying attention to Yoongi’s every word, every breath.

Jin’s words echo in Yoongi’s mind.

He’s the kind of person who listens to you after a shitty day, and makes you laugh on a good day.

Yoongi would have to agree with that statement, but he’d also add one more detail.

Hoseok is the kind of person who is eternally warm, eternally kind, and eternally gentle. He’s also the person who just swooped into Yoongi’s life and stole his heart, but that’s old news.

The good news is; Yoongi’s okay with it.



[23:30] hs: yoongi-ssi!!

[23:32] yg: hey hoseok


[23:35] yg: DID U WATCH IT


[23:36] hs: BARINSCLELS

[23:37] hs: BRAINCELLS*** christ

[23:38] yg: yea i can tell

[23:39] hs: ಠ_ಠ

[23:39] yg: im kidding of course

[23:40] hs: are u

[23:41] yg: guess we’ll never know.

[23:42] hs: i hate u

[23:42] yg: are you trying to get a bad evaluation?

[23:43] hs: oh god

[23:43] hs: i forgot

[23:44] hs: i don’t hate u yoongi-ssi

[23:44] hs: IT WAS A TYPO

[23:45] yg: yeah right

[23:46] hs: really i can’t type

[23:47] yg: i can tell

[23:47] yg: HAHA

[23:48] hs: ಠ_ಠ

[23:48] yg: im kidding

[23:48] yg: guess you could say i’m… childing

[23:49] hs: what

[23:49] hs: oh my god

[23:50] hs: i’m blocking your number


[23:50] hs: did jin hyung steal your phone

[23:51] hs: is he holding u hostage

[23:51] hs: do i need to save u

[23:52] yg: yeah save me hoseok please

[23:52] hs: really

[23:53] yg: yes you have ten minutes

[23:53] hs: i would but i don’t feel like getting out of bed ;-;

[23:54] yg: wow

[23:54] yg:  w  o  w

[23:57] yg: and i thought we were acquaintances

[23:58] hs: WE ARE

[23:58] yg: not so sure.

[23:59] hs: WE ARE COME ON

[23:59] yg: i would come for you

[23:59] yg: heh

[23:59] hs: ಠ_ಠ

[23:59] hs: w h a t

[00:00] yg: i said what i said

[00:00] yg: no regrets

[00:14] yg: okay maybe one regret

[00:15] yg: i was joking

[00:24] yg: hoseok

[00:25] hs: blocked



[15:36] yg: you will not believe this

[15:36] yg: this is an outrage

[15:45] hs: what’s up??

[15:47] yg: joon asked me to water his plants AGAIN

[15:47] yg: can u believe it

[15:48] hs: i can’t

[15:48] yg: it’s an outrage

[15:48] hs: i don’t believe you

[15:49] yg: what

[15:49] yg: why

[15:50] hs: you said i wouldn’t

[15:50] yg: hoseok

[15:50] yg: i swear to god

[15:51] hs: ^-^



[19:45] hs: i wanna pull my hair out

[19:48] yg: you have nice hair tho

[19:50] hs: im serious

[19:52] yg: what happened

[19:53] hs: i’m grading homework

[19:53] hs: and i wanna pull my hair out

[19:55] yg: because of the homework orrr

[19:55] yg: is it like a kink or something

[19:56] hs: good lord yoongi



[19:58] hs: it also might be a kink

[19:59] yg: o_o

[20:05] hs: ^.~

[20:07] yg: did you just wink at me

[20:08] hs: yeah my eye feels itchy

[20:10] yg: ㅜ.ㅜ

[20:15] hs: anyway im still suffering

[20:16] hs: thanks for asking

[20:18] yg: what do you want me to do

[20:19] hs: save me

[20:20] yg: save you how

[20:21] hs: idk aren’t you supposed to be the creative one

[20:22] yg: im not *supposed* to be anything

[20:22] yg: i can be whatever i want

[20:22] hs: okay well what are you

[20:23] yg: naked

[20:28] hs: @_@

[20:28] hs: really

[20:29] yg: i was about to take a shower when you interrupted

[20:29] yg: i’ve been sitting on the floor naked for the past 30 minutes

[20:32] hs: oh my god

[20:32] hs: i almost fell off my chair

[20:35] yg: try harder

[20:36] hs: thanks yoongi-ssi

[20:38] yg: for what

[20:38] hs: for making me laugh

[20:38] yg: is the thought of my naked body funny to you?

[20:47] hs: hilarious really

[20:47] yg: i’m blocking you



Yoongi sits in the bar, humming along to the tune of the song playing through the speakers, waiting. It’s still daylight outside, though Yoongi knows it’ll be dark soon and that’s one thing about late fall he doesn’t like. Yoongi likes longer days, warmer days, he likes basking in the sunlight and that feeling of lungs full of hot air.

Fall is nice; it’s colorful and brings a fresh, much needed change, but it’s also too cold and gloomy for Yoongi’s liking.

Yoongi takes a sip of his drink before he sees Hoseok enter the bar, scan the place and smile upon detecting him in the corner. Hoseok saunters over, pulling off the scarf from around his neck, and sits down hastily, cheeks blushed and warm.

“I left as soon as I could,” he mumbles, Yoongi smiling at him.

“It’s okay, you’re not late,” Yoongi tells him. “Sorry to bother you, I just… I had a weird day.”

“Bother me?” Hoseok frowns. “You know, you don’t need an excuse to hang out with me,” he says seriously.

“No, I know, it’s just…” Yoongi pauses. “I know you’re busy, that’s all.”

“I can make time,” Hoseok gives him a little smile.

They make small talk until Hoseok’s drink arrives. Yoongi takes a deep breath, looks at Hoseok, and actually feels like crying a little bit. It’s weird; he didn’t expect these emotions at all, but here they are. He’s a little sad.

“So, we didn’t get chosen to work on the project,” he says, biting his lip. Hoseok instinctively pushes his hand across the table but stops himself midway. Maybe he’d grab Yoongi’s hand and give it a comforting little squeeze, but he doesn’t really know if that’s okay. 

“Ah, that sucks,” he mumbles, Yoongi staring at his glass. “I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shakes his head. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”

“Doesn’t seem like it isn’t,” Hoseok observes, tilting his head. He leans in a little bit closer, eyes soft and attentive.

“It’s just, well, we’ve been talking about it for a long time and I guess… I don’t care about big projects that much, honestly. But I guess this one kind of grew on me. It would’ve been cool to work on it,” he sighs. “And now it’s not happening. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, though. I’m working on a good project right now, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like my existence depends on it, you know?”

“But you cared about it,” Hoseok says.

“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“It’s okay if you’re disappointed.”

“I feel like I’m sad about losing something I never even had? I made it out to be this big thing in my head,” Yoongi glances at Hoseok.

“You love what you do, it’s only natural that you want to expand your horizons and do new things. And being ambitious isn’t a bad thing,” Hoseok raises his eyebrows.

“You think?” Yoongi looks at him sheepishly.

“Sure,” he smiles. “If it means something to you, then it means something. Big or small. Doesn’t matter.”

“I guess you’re right,” Yoongi smiles.

“You have a lot of time to make a name for yourself,” Hoseok grins.

“Please,” Yoongi scoffs. “I don’t care about recognition or praise or things like that, I just like doing what I do.”

“And you still get to do it, whether it’s this project or another one.”

“Yeah… I guess I never thought about it that way,” Yoongi says.

There’s something so warm and lovely about Hoseok that Yoongi just wants to find it and grab it. Yoongi extends his boney fingers and puts his hand right beside Hoseok’s. He doesn’t take his hand, but he puts it next to Hoseok’s so their fingers almost touch. Yoongi wonders if that’s okay, but then Hoseok flashes him the world’s nicest, sweetest smile and he feels fine about it.

Yoongi feels fine about the project.

Yoongi feels more than fine about Hoseok.



[06:34] yg: hobi hobi hobi

[06:34] yg: hobi

[06:35] hs: you literally cockblocked my alarm clock

[06:35] hs: i had 5 more minutes of sleep planned

[06:35] hs: ㅠ.ㅠ

[06:36] yg: this is more important

[06:37] hs: what is it

[06:37] hs: are you okay

[06:37] yg: listen

[06:37] yg: i wanted to tell you something

[06:38] hs: what is it

[06:38] yg: i’m free for lunch today

[06:38] yg: ^_^

[06:42] yg: hoseok

[06:44] yg: …

[06:50] yg: did u fall back asleep

[06:50] hs: SHIT

[06:55] hs: SHTI HTISHT SHIT

[06:56] hs: OH CRAP

[06:56] hs: IM LATE

[07:06] yg: ㅠ.ㅠ

[07:06] yg: so…

[07:07] yg: is that a no

[07:15] hs: no!!!

[07:15] hs: i’ll see you at lunch yoongi-ssi~

[07:17] yg: •ㅅ•



“Hyung,” Jungkook calls. Yoongi lifts his gaze off the computer. “Did you think about it?”

“I did,” Yoongi hums, his gaze back on the screen. “We should change the concept, I think. Let’s discuss it later, okay?”

“Sure, hyung.”

The days are now shorter and shorter, but work hours are longer. Busier.

Yoongi got offered to work on another project soon after the first one didn’t work out, and it’s taking up all of his free time. Jungkook stays late with him in the office, but at least he can go home to Taehyung. Yoongi doesn’t have that.

Not yet, but who knows if it’ll ever happen.

Yoongi misses Hoseok. And there’s this weird guilt he feels because he’s tired, exhausted and drained from the workload, and he can’t hang out like before, even though he wants to; by the end of the day, his body betrays him and he falls asleep earlier than he’d like to. He’s been missing episodes of his show, too. Yoongi hadn’t expected this project to eat up so much of his time, and he hadn’t expected to find himself in an unenjoyable rut, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the work he used to enjoy.

The thing is; Yoongi is tired. He’s exhausted and he’s busy, and he forgets to check his phone.

A lonely message from Hoseok sits, waiting for a reply, but Yoongi doesn’t see it.


[00:36] hs: yoongi-ssi

[00:36] hs: so our one month of acquaintanceship has expired

[00:36] hs: wanna keep it going? ^-^



A few days later, Yoongi has breakfast with Jin and Namjoon, who nearly drag him out of the apartment to socialize with the. It’s the weekend, even though Yoongi has so much work to do it feels like a workday, but they insist on a few hours of his company. Yoongi is half-asleep for the most part, chewing his eggs with disinterest, sipping his lukewarm, underwhelming coffee while Jin blabbers about his life, and Namjoon throws in details from his own. They keep talking about the apartment, mention some renovation plans and plans for the future, and Yoongi’s mind wanders somewhere else.

Some place where Hoseok is.

And Yoongi doesn’t snap out of it until Jin poses a very direct, specific question, making Yoongi feel like his insides are suddenly all tangled and messed up.

“So, it didn’t work out with Hoseok?”

“Huh?” Yoongi stares at him.

“We went to pilates yesterday,” Jin says, slurping his green tea. “He mentioned something. Well, I asked about you.”

“What?” Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion. “What do you mean it didn’t work out?”

“I mean,” Jin widens his eyes, looking away. “Didn’t you—what do you call it—ghost him?”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi’s frown deepens.

“I think it’s when you ignore somebody’s messages and never reply back,” Namjoon says matter-of-factly.

“I know what ghosted means, you dumbass,” Yoongi spats. “I didn’t ghost Hoseok, what are you talking about?”

“I’m just telling you what he told me,” Jin shrugs. “When was the last time you talked?”

“I don’t… uh, last week, I think?” Yoongi sighs heavily, pulling his phone out of the pocket.

“What happened?” Namjoon asks gently.

“Nothing happened,” Yoongi replies stubbornly. “We’ve been hanging out a lot and texting all the time and—”

Wanna keep it going?

Yoongi stares at the messages on his screen, scanning through them time and time again. Impossible. It’s not possible that he didn’t see them, he always checks his messages. He always checks messages from Hoseok. Damnit, Hoseok is all he thinks about.

“I—” Yoongi whimpers, his voice shaky. “I didn’t see this, shit.”

“Really?” Jin gives him a look.

“Hyung, you seem stressed,” Namjoon observes.

“I am stressed,” Yoongi says, teeth gritted. “He thinks I ghosted him?”

“What was his last message?” Jin tilts his head. Yoongi can barely force himself to read it out loud.

Of course Hoseok would draw such a conclusion. It’s a very straightforward question, and Yoongi’s silence gives the impression of an answer.

“What do I do? Really, what do I do?” Yoongi throws the phone on the table.

“Just calm down, Christ,” Jin looks at him worriedly. “It’s not a big deal. Just tell him you didn’t see the text.”

“I can’t tell him that!” Yoongi spats. “I can’t tell him that because it sounds like a generic excuse, god, I can’t get him out of my head and I didn’t—I couldn’t bother to check my messages?”

“This is seriously not as dramatic as you’re making it out to be,” Jin comments.

“Hyung,” Yoongi whines. “You don’t understand.”


“I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him, god,” Yoongi covers his face. “It’s been five days. Five days!”

“Look, I’m sure Hoseok will understand, but the bigger issue here is your work, I think,” Namjoon frowns. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“It’s… it’s a lot right now,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Don’t overwork yourself, hyung.”

“It’s fine, it’s just one project,” Yoongi sighs. “We’ll get it over with soon, I hope.”


“Yeah,” Yoongi nods absentmindedly. “You think I fucked up?”

“No,” Jin says firmly.

Yoongi sighs and reassures them he’ll be okay. Once this project is done with, he’ll focus on something less exhausting, and things will fall back into place. That’s the easy part.

The hard part is Hoseok.



[23:22] yg: hoseok can we talk please

[23:34] hs: sure

[23:34] hs: what’s up

[23:35] yg: i meant in person

[23:35] yg: tomorrow after work?

[23:36] hs: uh yeah sure

[23:36] hs: everything okay?

[23:36] yg: yeah

[23:36] yg: i just really need to talk to you



Yoongi waits for Hoseok, butterflies raging inside his stomach, and sinks immediately upon seeing Hoseok’s face. The warm, kind smile isn’t there; it’s just a somewhat neutral, cold expression. The one he’d shoot him all the time when they’d just met.

“Do you know how long this is gonna take?” Hoseok clears his throat, avoiding Yoongi’s gaze.

“Uh,” Yoongi mutters. He feels like crap. “Is this not a good time for you?”

“I’m really sorry, I just need to get these things graded by tomorrow,” he extends his hand, frowning at the bunch of papers. “Really, really sorry.”

“Oh. Well,” Yoongi looks at his feet. “You could’ve just said so. It’s fine.”

“I mean,” Hoseok glances at him, the coldness in his eyes gone. “You can come with me, if you want. We can talk while I do it.”

“It’s just… well, I need your full attention.”

“I can multitask,” Hoseok offers, raising his eyebrows. Yoongi doesn’t reply. “Okay, let’s just—let’s just talk. Where do you wanna go?”

“But you have work to do,” Yoongi scrunches his nose.

“I’ll just do it later, I guess.”

“No,” Yoongi says. “No, I’ll come with you. I’ll help you do this and we’ll talk, sound good?”

“How would you help me, Yoongi-ssi?” Hoseok asks, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Dunno, I’ll make coffee and keep you entertained or whatever. Please?”

“Okay,” Hoseok smiles, warm and bright. “Okay, let’s go.”

They drive to Hoseok’s apartment and climb the stairs in complete silence. Yoongi can feel his heart pounding in his ears, clammy hands trembling from nervousness. Hoseok doesn’t seem to notice it.

Hoseok spreads out the papers on the big kitchen table and sighs, looking at the work he needs to do. He darts a glance Yoongi’s way, pursed lips forming a pout.

“Coffee?” Yoongi offers, Hoseok nodding with a soft smile.

“Sure, just don’t make it too sweet,” he adds, focusing his gaze on the papers.

“I’d never do such a thing,” Yoongi raises his eyebrows with a grin.

He starts the coffee preparation process then, worrying if this was a stupid idea. Clearly, Hoseok is busy, and the work he has to do requires his focus and attention. But, as it turns out, Hoseok is a very good multitasker. Once Yoongi puts the coffee mugs on the table, Hoseok starts blabbering about his day and what he’s been up to, simultaneously scribbling things on papers, scanning through them and writing down final grades.

Yoongi looks at him in awe.

Jimin then unlocks the apartment door and makes a dramatic entrance into the kitchen, subsequently apologizing to Yoongi for witnessing his dramatic rendition of a popular song.

“Oh, hi, Yoongi hyung,” he mumbles, cheeks flustered. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t know either,” Yoongi smiles at him.

“That makes the three of us,” Hoseok murmurs, gaze down on the papers, pen busy in hand. Jimin laughs.

“Are you two hungry? I thought I’d make some dinner,” Jimin offers, taking off his jacket.

“As long as you don’t burn the kitchen down,” Hoseok grins.

“Actually,” Yoongi clears his throat. “I could help you,” he raises his brows, Hoseok lifting his gaze off the papers to glance at him.

“You cook?”

“Yes, and pretty darn well if I may add,” Yoongi grins.

“Oh! That’s perfect,” Jimin flashes him a sweet smile. “Hobi, how long until you’re finished?”

“Uh, I can probably wrap it up by dinner,” he scratches the back of his head.

“Perfect. Alright, Yoongi hyung, let’s get started.”

Yoongi and Jimin start preparing dinner. Jimin tells him about himself and his life, tells him what it’s like to teach math in high school, explaining there’s nothing else he’d rather do. Yoongi listens to him intently, recognizing his passion for teaching, picking up his sunny, smiley vibes. Jimin is definitely charming in everything he does; the way he smiles is charming, the way he teases Hoseok is adorable, even the way he dices the onions is cute. It’s even cuter when he starts crying about it a few minutes later and Yoongi can’t help but laugh in his presence. It’s pleasant.

What’s even more pleasant, though, is Hoseok stealing his focus and letting out a throaty laugh in the background, sometimes glancing at the duo with a fond smile on his face.

Hoseok and his scrunched nose as he reads through the papers, Hoseok and his long, delicate fingers holding the red pen, Hoseok with his absentminded hums as he gets lost in his work.

Yoongi thoroughly enjoys cooking with Jimin, even though it’s mostly Yoongi doing all the cooking and Jimin cleaning up after him, assisting in whatever Yoongi needs.

“So, you two don’t cook much, do you?” Yoongi asks with a grin, carefully watching the meat sizzle in the pan.

“Well, we try to but neither of us is particularly good at it,” Jimin chuckles.

“Speak for yourself, Jiminie,” Hoseok mumbles from the table.

“Hyung, you only know how to prepare like five dishes,” Jimin gives him a look.

“But those five are delicious,” Hoseok grins.

“True. And I’m pretty much the opposite; I’ve dabbled with all kinds of dishes, but none of them are exactly great. We get by,” Jimin shrugs, passing the salt to Yoongi. “Do you cook?”

“Almost every day,” Yoongi says, poking the meat with the chopsticks. “I try to, unless I’m at work all day in which case it’s microwaved ramen in front of the TV,” he shrugs, Hoseok snorting in the background.

“That sounds pretty darn good, honestly,” Hoseok says, Jimin nodding in agreement.

“It’s alright,” Yoongi smiles, cheeks flushed.

Half an hour later, the three set up the table and dig in, Hoseok and Jimin taking turns in praising Yoongi’s cooking. Yoongi takes the opportunity to mention Namjoon’s cooking antics, and the duo suddenly remember Jin’s existence and his superb cooking skills. Yoongi insists he’s a better cook than Jin, but the two don’t seem convinced. They tease him and Yoongi proposes a cook-off, and Hoseok bursts into laughing.

Jimin starts telling Yoongi ridiculous stories about their friendship and how they became roommates, and at some point Yoongi feels sort of relieved. Because, Jimin is charming and attractive and seems like the most loveable person in the entire universe. He could easily have whoever he wants, and Yoongi is relieved he hasn’t picked Hoseok. Or the other way around.


The owner of the world’s brightest smile. The owner of Yoongi’s heart.

Yoongi remembers why he’s here. He’s going to tell Hoseok; he’s not entirely sure what that is yet, but he’ll figure it out. Maybe he should just ask him out. Maybe he should just be honest and tells him how he feels.

With Hoseok, it doesn’t feel like he has to step onto the deck. He doesn’t have to go near the boat, or the ocean, or the storms. It’s different with Hoseok. It’s no longer a boat but a plane, and Yoongi can soar the highest of skies, looking down at the deepest of the oceans. He can set sail in the skies, fly to the widest and brightest of the galaxies, and not crash and burn. If he could describe the feelings he has for Hoseok, he’d say they’re sky-high; a bottomless pit of wonder, a blissful feeling full of warmth.

There’s no storms, no worries his boat will tip over. With Hoseok, it’s sky-high but calm; calmness filling his heart with stars and sunlight, the splendor brightening up even the darkest of the heavens.

They finish off dinner with a bottle of soju, getting tipsy as darkness drapes over the sky. Jimin excuses himself at some point and retreats to his bedroom, and Hoseok suggests they go out on the balcony for some fresh air. Yoongi nods, feeling a lump in his throat.

The balcony is small and lovely with two chairs and a small table where Hoseok and Jimin enjoy their morning coffee. There’s a potted plant and fairy lights, and it’s just a lovely spot to observe the city lights from. Yoongi makes himself comfortable and waits, his heart pounding in anticipation, and Hoseok returns with two fluffy blankets.

“Cold?” he asks, sitting down on the chair, handing one blanket to Yoongi. They’re separated by the small table, a set of candles on top of it that Hoseok lights up. Yoongi shakes his head.

“No, I’m good,” he says and takes a sip of his drink, even though he really doesn’t want to be drunk for this, but he can’t help it.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Hoseok begins, tilting his head, chin resting on the palm of his hand.

“Uh, well,” Yoongi clears his throat. He has no idea how to say what he wants to say. “I wanted to tell you that I didn’t, uh, ignore you on purpose.”

“Oh?” Hoseok looks at him, biting his lower lip.

“I’ve just been busy,” Yoongi murmurs. “I know it’s the most pathetic excuse and, god, I wish I wasn’t saying it right now, but it’s true.”

“It’s okay, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok gives him a small smile. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“No, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Yoongi insists, lifting his head up to meet Hoseok’s gaze. His eyes are dark, deep, full of curiosity. “I want to explain myself because I don’t want you to think I’d just—just forget. Hoseok, I think about you the whole time,” Yoongi says weakly, his hands trembling an insane amount. Hoseok raises his brows.

“You think about me?”

There’s a long pause while Yoongi collects all of the courage he has.

“Of course I think about you. I’ve been thinking about you ever since I smacked you with that thing,” Yoongi finally says. He feels like all of the air in the world wouldn’t be enough for him to breathe.


“I started working on a different project and it’s taking up all of my time, I haven’t… I haven’t felt like this, ever. It’s the first time in my life that I’m not excited to go to work in the mornings. It’s just… too much of everything,” Yoongi looks away.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok looks at him softly.

“No, don’t be. It’s not… it’s not a big deal. That’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Work will be fine. It’s…” he hesitates. “I like you Hoseok. I like you too damn much,” Yoongi glances at him, Hoseok’s lips curving into a smile. It’s a wide, bright, gorgeous smile only Hoseok can flash him.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi gulps. “I like you and I can’t stop thinking about you and talking to you is the highlight of my day, really,” he says. “The project isn’t so bad. It’s probably not so horrible and I’ll get used to it, it’s just that… I think I’m just a bit overwhelmed by everything. You make me… feel new stuff. It’s weird,” he mumbles, Hoseok smiling blissfully.

“It kind of sucks I sucked the fun out of your job,” he says, grinning.

“It doesn’t suck,” Yoongi scrunches his nose. “I don’t care,” he shakes his head. “I’ll always love what I do but with you… it’s different, with you. I just wanna…” Yoongi instinctively leans over the small table, closer to Hoseok, and stops himself. “I don’t want to kiss you,” he says, Hoseok laughing nervously.

“You don’t?”


“Okay, well… what do you want?” he asks gently.

“I just want to kiss you when I’m not tipsy or drunk, you know? I just want to…” he hesitates.

“Do you want me? Is that what you want, Yoongi-ssi?” Hoseok whispers, looking into Yoongi’s glistening eyes.

“Yeah. I want you, yeah, I just… I’m scared, okay? But this is me taking a leap of faith cause you make me feel like... there’s genuine people in this world, you know?” he says, both of them quiet for a few moments.

“So…” Hoseok raises his brows, smiling.

“I wanna kiss you, I really want to, but not right now. Not like this,” Yoongi explains, shoulders slumping.

“Okay,” Hoseok pauses. “Okay, that’s okay,” he nods, looking at him softly.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, of course—I get it. You can… kiss me whenever you want, really,” Hoseok grins.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, putting his hand in Hoseok’s open palm resting on the small table. Hoseok’s hands are warm, always warm, and Yoongi realizes he would want to hold his hand and never let go. Even if never is an overstatement, even if it’s dramatic and not at all realistic, but with Hoseok, it feels somewhat appropriate.

Yoongi thinks of Hoseok like he’s trying to imagine perpetual happiness filling his heart.

Yoongi would even jump into the ocean to be with him. But he doesn’t have to. They can just soar the skies together, for however long it lasts, and then land safely.

Or never land at all.

And this—this is the chaos Yoongi was scared of. Except, after all the turmoil and pandemonium that entered Yoongi’s life when he hit Hoseok with that damn watering can, it’s serene now.  Yoongi feels good about it. Hell, he feels great about it.



[09:45] yg: hobi hobi hobi

[09:45] yg: seokie

[09:46] hs: i like that one ^.^

[09:46] yg: seokie seokie seokie

[09:46] hs: *.*

[09:47] yg: so how about i take you on a date

[09:47] hs: you sure you’re not busy?

[09:48] yg: i’m busy planning our date

[09:48] yg: unless… you changed your mind ;-;

[09:49] hs: don’t be ridiculous yoongi-ssi

[09:49] hs: i’m ready to be wooed

[09:49] yg: great

[09:49] yg: i’ll pick you up after work?

[09:50] hs: you wanna pick me up?

[09:50] yg: yeah

[09:51] yg: i’ll bring flowers too

[09:51] yg: i’m doing all that romantic shit

[09:52] hs: romantic shit sounds so nice

[09:52] yg: don’t make me change my mind

[09:53] hs: ;___;

[09:53] hs: don’t

[09:53] yg: kidding

[09:53] yg: i won’t

[09:54] yg: i made up my mind about you

[09:54] hs: really

[09:55] yg: yeah

[09:55] yg: i like you

[09:55] yg: i’m keeping you

[09:55] hs: ♡.♡



Their first date is lovely.

It’s perfectly lovely.

Hoseok can’t stop smiling and Yoongi can’t stop looking at him like his eyes hold all the answers to the great questions of the universe. If Yoongi had to choose the favorite day of his life, he’d probably choose this one.

After treating themselves to a fancy dinner, Yoongi and Hoseok walk out of the restaurant into the cold; light rain sprinkling the tops of their heads. It’s cold, too cold for Yoongi’s liking, and he takes the opportunity to grab Hoseok’s hand. It’s warm, always warm, and Yoongi never wants to let go.

“So, I didn’t bring you flowers,” Yoongi says, eyebrows raised. Hoseok is still smiling, lips widening into a grin. He squeezes Yoongi’s cold hand.

“I didn’t think you would.”

“Ah, yes, but here’s the thing,” Yoongi says dramatically, raising his index finger up to exaggerate his point. “I didn’t forget.”

“I thought you were joking about the romantic shit.”

“Are you saying this evening hasn’t been romantic so far?” Yoongi looks at him, a silly grin stuck on his face.

“It’s been tolerable,” Hoseok teases as they walk up to Yoongi’s car.

“Is that so,” Yoongi squints, letting go of Hoseok’s hand to search his pockets for the car keys. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

Hoseok laughs and Yoongi feels his heart complain. It’s like it’s trying to tell him “hey dude, how about you pull yourself together, I’m tired from all these palpitations.” But Yoongi doesn’t listen to his heart. Or, maybe his heart doesn’t listen to him—they’re perpetually in disagreement, and it’s been that way since he’s met Hoseok.

Hoseok makes his heart flutter, race, skip beats, run marathons, do somersaults.

Yoongi opens the car door and leans to look for a wrapped, little package. He takes it out, a gummy smile on his face, and takes a deep breath.

Facing Hoseok isn’t easy. Perhaps it’s because Yoongi sometimes feels like he’s staring at the actual sun, or like he’s looking at the embodiment of joy.

Pure, palpable joy that is one Jung Hoseok.

“I told you I’d bring flowers but then I remembered you don’t really care for plants, so I had to improvise,” he explains, handing the package to Hoseok whose eyes are filled with wonder, gleaming as he unwraps it.

It’s a small plastic model of a school with a single rose carved on one side. It’s simple, and if Yoongi’s being honest, it didn’t take him a long time to make it. What took him a long time was figuring out how to gift Hoseok flowers without actually giving him flowers.

Yoongi would have to say he’s pretty damn proud of himself for coming up with the idea, but Hoseok’s silence makes him second guess it.

Hoseok just stands with the gift in his hands, eyes big and wide as he stares at it. At first Yoongi can’t decipher his reaction, but then his face starts looking like he’s about to cry, and he lets a single tear roll down his cheek before he’s all smiles again.

He flashes Yoongi the world’s biggest, brightest, most beautiful smile and without hesitation pulls him into an embrace, whispering “thank you, thank you, thank you” into his ear.

Yoongi shudders; the closeness makes him feel like he’s soaring, like he’s left earth and traveled some place where it’s always happy, always calm.

“Do you like it?” Yoongi asks sheepishly once Hoseok pulls away.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not even kidding. It’s… god, it’s so thoughtful. Fuck, Yoongi-ssi, you totally won me over,” he grins, beaming, and Yoongi feels ecstatic.

“Really?” he asks, smiling brightly, watching Hoseok’s cheerful beam transition into a deep gaze, eyes half-lidded with hunger.

“Kiss me,” Hoseok murmurs, gaze on Yoongi’s lips.

It might not be the most romantic thing to exist—kissing on the parking lot, feet freezingly cold—but Yoongi would argue that this is the best damn kiss he’s ever had in his life.

Yoongi presses his lips to Hoseok’s gently, and it’s calm for a while. Their lips touch, mouths curve into smiles, lips softly gliding over each other. It’s nice, so, so nice, until Hoseok grazes his lower lip with his teeth and Yoongi reaches another state of happiness. He cups Hoseok’s face, pulling him in, wanting him closer and closer even though they’re already glued to each other. 

It’s calm until Hoseok sets Yoongi’s heart on fire, the kiss deeper and more passionate, and Hoseok traces his tongue over Yoongi’s lip, effectively ruining him for the rest of his life. Because, it doesn’t get better than this.

It doesn’t get better than kissing Hoseok, being kissed by Hoseok, having Hoseok so close and warm.

They kiss until the chilly wind shoos them inside, and Yoongi takes Hoseok home.

They just kiss for hours, sprawled on Yoongi’s couch, and nothing else happens. Not that Yoongi would mind it; he’d let Hoseok do whatever he wants to him, he’d surrender under his gaze and his touch. Whatever Hoseok wants, Yoongi wants it too.

But for now, they just kiss, wrapped in each other’s arms, silly giggles interrupting their kisses from time to time. And then it’s silent again, when Yoongi closes his eyes and lets Hoseok plant another gentle kiss on his lips, and then they just breathe beside each other.

Yoongi decides that the only plan he needs in life is the plan to kiss Hoseok every day for as long as he lets him, hoping there won’t be a day where he has to stop.

They go on a second date,

And then a third one,

And a fourth one,

Until Yoongi loses count.

They go on dates to restaurants and cafés, and they go see movies when they feel like escaping the daily rut, and just make out in the darkness while the movie plays on the big screen. It’s short coffee breaks during lunch hours and long talks on the phone late into the night. They take it slow, because there’s nowhere else they need to be, and they both want to stay here.

For as long as possible.

They’re sprawled across Yoongi’s gray couch until Yoongi gets up to rush to the kitchen to get more snacks. When he returns, he’s met with betrayal; Hoseok hogging the remote control, the whole blanket, and most of the couch space with a sneaky grin. To make things worse, he’s switched the channels to a nature documentary about trees. Yoongi takes a deep breath, squinting his eyes.

“I see how it is,” he mumbles, holding a bowl of snacks in his hands. Yoongi saunters over, Hoseok barely keeping his laughter suppressed. He puts the bowl on the glass coffee table and glances at Hoseok.

“Long time no see,” Hoseok grins devilishly and Yoongi resorts to his last option. Climbing on top of Hoseok.

Yoongi buries his face in the nook between the couch and Hoseok’s neck, hiding his face, the scent of Hoseok’s cologne hitting his nostrils.

Hoseok squirms underneath him, stuck somewhere between whining and laughing, but Yoongi doesn’t move.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, could you just move—”

“Nope,” Yoongi mumbles.

“You’re gonna crush me,” Hoseok whines, a throaty laughter escaping his mouth. Yoongi presses a wet kiss to Hoseok’s neck.

And that.

That does something.

“Huh, you wanna play dirty?” Hoseok asks, his voice much lower, much huskier. Yoongi lies on top of him like that, leg between Hoseok’s thighs, arms wrapped around his neck.

“You started it,” Yoongi retorts. Hoseok’s hand is on his ass now, Yoongi notices, and it only takes one light squeeze to set Yoongi off.

Hoseok can feel Yoongi hard against his thigh, his fingers digging into the fabric of his sweats. Yoongi lets out a whimper, lifting his head up to meet Hoseok’s eyes. They’re dark, full of lust and want; his gaze alone enough to make Yoongi’s head spin, enough to make him feel things he’s never felt before.

“Do that again,” Yoongi breathes.

“You like that?” Hoseok looks at him, both of his hands on Yoongi’s ass now. “You have a nice little ass, Yoongi-ssi,” he whispers before Yoongi kisses his neck, leaving wet traces with his warm lips, moving his hips to grind down on Hoseok.

“Little?” he frowns, lips pressed to Hoseok’s neck.

“It’s—” Hoseok starts, the words getting lost in his throat when Yoongi’s hand travels down to Hoseok’s jeans, pressing down on the outline of his cock. Hoseok jerks his hips up, craving Yoongi’s touch, and Yoongi keeps kissing his neck until he moans. It’s enough to set Yoongi’s mind on fire.

“Fuck,” Yoongi murmurs, kissing him. Yoongi grinds his hips down again, Hoseok’s eyes fluttering close and lips parted, a muffled oh caught between them. Yoongi unbuttons his jeans, kisses deep and hungry like he’s starving for closeness, like he could devour him with his eyes or with just one touch. Hoseok kneads Yoongi’s ass, fingers finding their way to the waistband of his pants.

It’s like he’s never been touched before, Yoongi realizes, and maybe this is that fire he’s dreamed about. Maybe this is burning up for somebody, maybe this is fierce passion and devotion—something he’s never felt before, at least not like this. Because Hoseok holds him so firmly that he feels safe, but there’s gentleness woven into his touch, and Yoongi melts under the sensation of Hoseok’s fingers tracing across his ribs, traveling all the way up and down his spine.

Hoseok’s fingers curve underneath the hem of Yoongi’s shirt, his hands moving quickly to pull the shirt off and it ends up thrown somewhere on the floor. Hoseok’s gazes at the sight of Yoongi’s muscular torso, half-lidded eyes dark and hungry. Yoongi grins at him, slightly nervous, and Hoseok wipes the nervousness off with a single kiss, making Yoongi’s head spin, making his insides feel like they’re about to explode.

“You’re so fucking hot, Yoongi,” he murmurs, lips gliding across Yoongi’s jawline, hands gripping his ass still.  

“Can you—” Yoongi breathes, biting Hoseok’s lower lip, grinding down once more before he’s fully hard. Yoongi wants it—wants Hoseok—whatever he wants to do to him, he wants, craves, needs. “Can you just—” Yoongi mumbles, trying to pull Hoseok’s pants down.

“I can’t when you’re on top of me,” Hoseok murmurs, opening his eyes to look at Yoongi. “Your ass is too fat, I can’t move,” he snickers, Yoongi almost bursting into laughter.

“Asshole,” he groans, rolling over to the side, Hoseok’s grasp tight so he wouldn’t roll off the couch. Hoseok lets the smile linger on his lips for another moment. Then, he pulls Yoongi into a hot, messy kiss, dragging his hands across Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi shivers even though he feels hot as hell, but Hoseok’s touch does something to him—something he can’t explain. It drives him crazy but calms him at the same time, and he feels like he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

He feels like he’s where he wants to be, and that’s something he hasn’t felt in a while.

Yoongi pulls Hoseok’s pants down, his underwear getting caught up in the motion, and Yoongi almost swoons.

“Fuck, god, oh my god,” Yoongi breathes, pulling Hoseok’s underwear all the way down. “Can I blow you?”

Hoseok nods, whimpering as Yoongi pulls his underwear off, flings them on the floor and gets on top of him again, leaving a myriad of wet kisses on his neck, his jawline, his lips. “Shirt off, can you—”

Hoseok props himself slightly to pull his shirt off, lying naked underneath Yoongi now, his cock hard and heavy against his stomach.

The image of Hoseok lying naked underneath him is something Yoongi will never be able to get out of his head; his toned and lean body, the glow on his skin, his strong thighs, the shape of his lips, the fire in his gaze.

Yoongi hovers over him, leaving trails of kisses across his neck again, moving down to his collarbones and eliciting a hoarse moan out of Hoseok as he digs his fingers into Yoongi’s skin, shuddering when Yoongi’s wet mouth touches his cock.

Yoongi leaves kisses up and down the length of his cock, making Hoseok feel like he’s seeing fireworks. Then, he pulls away, dark eyes gazing into Hoseok’s, a smirk frozen on his face.

“Don’t stop, Yoongi—” Hoseok whimpers and Yoongi leans in for a kiss, running his hand through Hoseok’s hair. Then, he slightly tugs, Hoseok’s cock twitching as he lets out a moan.

“You like that, huh?” Yoongi asks in a low tone, pressing another wet kiss to his mouth, sliding his fingers through his hair, pulling until he can hear Hoseok moan as he falls apart under his touch.

“God—yeah, I like that, yeah—” he moans and Yoongi pulls a little harder, grinding his hips down, the friction making the tension even more electrifying. Hoseok really, really wants to push Yoongi against a wall and fuck him senseless, but he’s more than ready to wait. He’s more than ready for whatever Yoongi has in store for him because it’s so damn good, so damn arousing.

He’s losing his mind under his gaze, Yoongi’s fingers warm around his cock.

“Could you blow me, please,” Hoseok croaks through a muffled little laugh, Yoongi smirking at him. He runs his hand through his hair one more time, before positioning himself between Hoseok’s thighs.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he teases and takes Hoseok into his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. Yoongi swallows him down and Hoseok lets out a moan, louder this time.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Hoseok whimpers, eyes closed.

Yoongi sucks, twirls his tongue, leaves kisses up and down, takes him all in, the grip of his hand firm at the base. He pumps a few times, his tongue over the tip, Hoseok’s cock hard and slick in his hand.

“Fuck, Yoongi—” Hoseok moans as Yoongi changes his pace, sucking on his cock and moving his hand up and down rhythmically with just enough pressure, making Hoseok see stars. “I’m gonna—oh—god,” he breathes, lost in the sensation while Yoongi slows his movements down, lazily dragging his tongue across the tip.

“Wanna come for me, pretty boy?” he asks, voice husky and irresistible.

“Yeah, fuck, Yoongi—” Hoseok gasps as Yoongi takes his cock in his mouth again, his pace steady and fast, slightly more pressure in his grip now. Hoseok breathes, pants, moans as Yoongi blows him, feeling his orgasm build up in his stomach, warmth overflooding his body as drops of sweat roll down his forehead.

Yoongi is somewhat close to magical, in Hoseok’s opinion.

Yoongi looks up, Hoseok’s cock deep in his mouth, and lets out a choked out moan, sending Hoseok over the edge. Yoongi opens his mouth, the tip of Hoseok’s cock pressed against his tongue, and Hoseok reaches his orgasm, come spluttering over Yoongi’s mouth and hand.

Hoseok stares at the ceiling, letting out a pathetic little whimper, his body feeling like jelly as he basks in post-orgasm glow, trying to come back to his senses. Yoongi props himself up and reaches for the box of tissues on the coffee table, wiping his mouth and hand.

“That was—wow,” Hoseok mutters, blinking at Yoongi. 

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks.

“I just need a moment,” he breathes, smiling with his eyes closed.

“So, you liked it?” Yoongi grins, taking another tissue to clean Hoseok up before he makes himself comfortable next to him. Not for long, though.

“Are you kidding me?” Hoseok stares at him. “You’re so fucking good, Yoongi. Amazing. Spectacular—”

Yoongi silences him with a kiss, his mouth curving into a smile.

“I knew you had a thing for hair pulling,” Yoongi smirks, Hoseok letting out a hearty laugh.

“Well, I mean, I told you about it,” Hoseok shrugs.

“That wasn’t a serious conversation.”

“Good thing you decided to find out for yourself, then,” Hoseok grins wide. “Do you want me to blow you or—”

“Not it if it’s a hassle,” Yoongi gives him a look, Hoseok immediately darting a glance his way.

“It’d be an honor,” Hoseok chuckles, Yoongi rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi murmurs.

Hoseok takes a moment to look at him before he pulls him into a lazy kiss, tongue gliding across Yoongi’s bottom lip, wet and warm. Yoongi feels tingles down his spine when Hoseok unbuttons his pants, Yoongi’s bottom lip captured between Hoseok’s.

“Wanna stand up for me?” he murmurs, Yoongi feeling his cock twitch, blood rushing into it.

“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi breathes out a reply, Hoseok squeezing the palm of his hand once.

“Only if you want to,” he adds between kisses.

“I want to.”

“Okay, off the couch,” Hoseok nudges him, a playful smirk on his lips as Yoongi stands up.

Hoseok sits on the couch, Yoongi standing in front of him. He takes his time with unbuttoning Yoongi’s pants, fingers curving underneath the waistband, exploring around his cock and all the way down to his balls. Yoongi gulps, closing his eyes as Hoseok pulls his pants and underwear down.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” he mutters, Hoseok’s gaze on him.

Yoongi feels tense in every inch of his body, his hands trembling as he stands before Hoseok, his heart thumping and pounding from eagerness. Hoseok cups his ass again, his grip firm and needy, and Yoongi feels intoxicated; craving his touch more than air, his breaths quickening with Hoseok’s every movement.

Hoseok gets down on his knees; the sight making Yoongi audibly moan, because there’s absolutely nothing more attractive than Hoseok kneeling in front of him with his pretty, heart-shaped lips wet and open for him, gaze full of lust and want.

Yoongi is already wet and needy, doing his best to stop himself from jerking his hips forward. He wants Hoseok, he needs him; whatever it is that he wants to give to him, Yoongi wants it. Hoseok smears the precome across the tip of his cock, slicking it up before taking all of it in.

Yoongi quivers as Hoseok digs his nails into his ass cheeks, swallowing him down whole. It’s wet, so wet; and Yoongi can barely stand on his two feet, watching Hoseok suck him off like that, his eyes darting glances to look up at him. Hoseok takes him in even deeper, nearly choking, and Yoongi lets out a muffled moan. He slides his fingers through Hoseok’s hair, tugging whenever the tip of his cock reaches Hoseok’s throat.

It’s ecstasy—this, right here, with Hoseok. Yoongi knows it. All he wants is for it to never stop, all he wants is Hoseok in any and every way. Whatever he’ll give him, Yoongi will take it, because his heart has never felt this way before.

It’s never felt calm while burning up, because for the first time, the flames aren’t dangerous.

Hoseok’s movements quicken, Yoongi tensing up, digging his fingers into his hair, pulling and tugging lightly, losing himself in Hoseok’s muffled moans and shallow breaths. The sounds his mouth is making are almost obscene, but Yoongi revels in it, closed eyes watching the fireworks in his head.

Hoseok kisses his cock, glides his tongue up and down, jerking it off with his hand.

Yoongi comes loudly, moaning and panting, completely wrecked by Hoseok’s touch.

It’s like he’s ascended to a different plane of existence.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath. Hoseok can barely let out a little laugh, voice hoarse and cracking, and he runs off to the bathroom while Yoongi recollects himself. Travels back to planet earth. Breathes.

Yoongi breathes, lungs full of Hoseok.

Heart full of Hoseok.

Mouth full of Hoseok.

Yoongi wouldn’t want it any other way.

“So, that was fun,” Hoseok comments as he walks back into the room, plopping down on the couch next to Yoongi.

“You could say so, yeah,” Yoongi grins, eyes glistening. “I am a fun-architect, after all.”

Hoseok bursts into laughter.

They don’t stop laughing until the early hours of the morning, both of them exhausted and craving sleep. But they don’t fall asleep for a long time—wrapped in each other’s arms—talking, joking, teasing, breathing kisses into each other’s mouths. The last thing Yoongi sees before his eyes close and sleep takes him over is Hoseok, a soft little smile on his lips, illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight.

Yoongi thinks he must be pretty damn lucky to have the moon smiling at him while the sun sleeps in his bed, keeping him warm, melting all of his worries away with it’s gleam. 

Yoongi considers himself pretty damn lucky.

Maybe he is. Maybe it’s luck, or maybe sometimes good things happen. Things so good that they feel surreal.

Whatever it is—luck, destiny, coincidence—Yoongi is so damn glad Namjoon asked him to water his plants.

Maybe Yoongi likes plants just a teeny bit, after all.



Jin and Namjoon announce they’re organizing a dinner party, even though it hardly qualifies as a party with only 5 guests. Though they don’t seem to care, because they’ve officially moved in and want to seal the deal, make it official if you will, host a small dinner and then shoo everyone home.

Jin invites Yoongi and Hoseok, of course he does, but he invites them as a couple. So that’s a big deal.

Yoongi wakes up snuggled next to Hoseok. The thing about Hoseok is that he’s loud, louder than most people. Yoongi could hear him anywhere if he was laughing, and he could recognize his voice in a crowd of a hundred people. Another thing about Hoseok is that he breathes low and shallow when he sleeps, and Yoongi gets worried.

Hoseok is endlessly amused by Yoongi’s silly concern, but Yoongi takes it seriously.

“Hoseok,” he calls, eyelids heavy with sleepiness. He runs his fingers through Hoseok’s hair softly. “Hoseok, are you alive,” Yoongi frowns even though he can see Hoseok breathing, can feel the temperature of his body, can feel his feet move underneath the covers.

“What do you mean,” Hoseok murmurs, voice husky and low.

“You breathe so silently, what the fuck,” Yoongi complains, pulling Hoseok closer.

“Didn’t you say I was too loud,” Hoseok murmurs, his eyes still closed like he’s hoping to fall back to sleep.

“When did I say that?”

“I dunno, I’m pretty sure you did once or twice or a million times when we met,” Hoseok snickers, eyes fluttering open.

And that.


Hoseok’s eyes.

Hoseok’s eyes in the morning when the sun is still shy, hiding behind the clouds. When the breeze is chilly and barely there, but enough to make Yoongi feel cold. When he doesn’t particularly feel like facing the world or dragging himself out of bed.

Yoongi smiles, because that’s all he can do. It’s all he feels when Hoseok opens his eyes; Yoongi is all smiles and giggles from inside. All warm and fuzzy when Hoseok searches for his hand under the covers, grasping it gently, giving it a little squeeze as a smile envelops his face.

Hoseok’s pretty eyes and his pretty smile in the mornings. It does something to Yoongi. Makes him feel calm.

“You’re not too loud,” Yoongi pouts, scrunching his nose. “You’re never too loud.”

Hoseok keeps smiling at him, their fingers intertwined.

“Are you awake now? ‘Cause I desperately need to be cuddled,” Yoongi adds matter-of-factly.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raises his eyebrows.


“Should I get out of your way or—”

“Unfortunately for you, you have to cuddle me, it’s non-negotiable.”

“Democracy at its finest,” Hoseok laughs.

“I’ll let you choose which spoon you wanna be.”

“Can I be the little one?”


“I thought—”

“Hug me,” Yoongi requests, turning to his side. Hoseok pulls him closer, pressing his body closer to his, putting his arms around Yoongi. “You can be the little spoon next time.”

“That’s okay,” Hoseok whispers, pressing a little kiss to the nape of Yoongi’s neck. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Yoongi smiles.

Hoseok makes him happy.

Lazy mornings like this, spent in bed until the early hours of the morning transition into midday. Lazy kisses and soft bites on the lips, random outbursts of laughter, shy whispers of affection.

They don’t wake up before noon, Hoseok waking Yoongi from his sleep this time. Hoseok doesn’t wake him up as timidly, but rather makes sure Yoongi notices his half-hard dick grinding against his ass. It doesn’t take long to get Yoongi all riled up.

“Do you wanna,” Hoseok asks, nuzzling his neck, pushing his hand down Yoongi’s boxers.

“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes, feeling Hoseok’s hand on his cock.

“You can be the big spoon, if you want,” Hoseok murmurs, leaving a wet kiss on Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi feels his cock twitch, Hoseok’s grip around it firm.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says and Yoongi turns around, crashing his mouth against Hoseok’s.

“I wanna hear you say it,” Yoongi breathes, leaving traces of his teeth on Hoseok’s jawline before he remedies it with kisses, wet and warm.

“Want you inside me,” Hoseok breathes, eyes closed, Yoongi’s tongue gliding over his lips. “Wanna feel you.”

Yoongi fucks him into the mattress while Hoseok moans, pulling on the bedsheets, calling Yoongi’s name.

“God, you’re like, like a sex god or something,” Yoongi murmurs after they’ve both come, hovering over him while leaving soft kisses on his neck. Hoseok lets out a little whimper, a smile curving in the corners of his lips.

“Please,” he breathes finally, chest rising with each breath.

“Okay if I pull out?” Yoongi murmurs, kissing his mouth.

“Yeah,” Hoseok nods, opening his eyes.

“Seriously, you’re just,” Yoongi pauses for a moment. “God, I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad you just fucked my brains out,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Asshole,” Yoongi groans, pretending to frown. His own laughter betrays him, putting his gummy smile on full display. He looks at Hoseok fondly.

“You’re really fucking amazing, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok says, gazing into his eyes. “You… blow my mind. And you’re the warmest person I’ve ever met. The prettiest,” Hoseok pauses, pulling him into another kiss.  “The most fucking wonderful.”

Yoongi smiles, his heart full. It’s funny how Hoseok thinks of him in the same adjectives Yoongi thinks of him. 




None of them exaggerated, none of them euphoric. After all the somersaults and the marathons, Yoongi’s heart settles down. It doesn’t tell him to calm down anymore. It doesn’t complain anymore. Now, it just whispers a small thank you, hums Hoseok’s name, and goes back to beating as it should.



“Is this shirt okay?” Yoongi asks, looking at himself in the mirror with a frown. He’s chosen a light blue shirt, a pair of dark jeans and his fancy pair of shoes he normally wears to work. Hoseok checks him out, fixing the collar of his white shirt tucked into a pair of black pants.

They look nice like that.

“Looks great,” Hoseok grins. Yoongi blushes, a light wash of pink on his cheeks.

“Wanna come over after Jin’s dinner?”

“I actually don’t remember the last time I was home,” Hoseok strokes his chin pensively. Yoongi frowns again.

“It was two days ago, you idiot,” he scrunches his nose. “We can watch the show.”

“It’s tonight?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to—”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” Hoseok asks, sauntering over to where Yoongi is standing in front of the big mirror. He presses a kiss to the back of Yoongi’s neck, putting his arms around him. His hugs are warm, always warm.

“I’m just saying, it’s okay,” Yoongi mutters.

“Good,” Hoseok mumbles. Yoongi can feel his warm breath on his neck and he shudders, closing his eyes. “I still wanna come over, though.”

Yoongi smiles, wide and bright.

They arrive at Jin and Namjoon’s apartment five minutes early, carrying an expensive bottle of wine and a little succulent for Namjoon. It’s a housewarming gift, even though there’s already way too many plants in there, and it’s questionable whether Jin will be delighted by the newest addition, but it’ll make Namjoon happy.

And Yoongi wants his best friend to be happy.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook have already arrived; sipping wine in the living room and Jin is in the middle of a monologue about human resource management when Yoongi and Hoseok walk inside. Jin decides to finish telling his story later, and makes sure to offer an alcoholic beverage of their choice to the two.

“Driving,” Hoseok grimaces apologetically and shrugs his shoulders.

“I’ll  have a glass of wine,” Yoongi says. “Also, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me, you jackass,” he looks at Jin, his glare then shifting to Namjoon.

“You can have whatever you want, as long as you leave by 9,” Jin says. “And what do you mean I didn’t invite you, I told Hoseok—”

Hoseok,” Yoongi clarifies. “You invited Hoseok and his plus one! I’ve known you longer, I can’t believe you’d betray me like that,” Yoongi sulks. Jin and Hoseok burst into laughter.

“That’s ‘cause I saw him first. Aren’t you two a thing now?”

“That’s besides the point,” Yoongi looks away, crossing his arms.

Hoseok laughs, but makes sure to get a precise clarification from Yoongi during dinner, just to avoid any potential misunderstandings.

“We are a thing though, right?” he whispers as they wait for Jin to bring dessert.

“Clarify what thing means,” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of wine. Hoseok blushes.

“I mean,” he clears his throat. “Like… You know,” he mumbles, getting all flustered and tongue-tied.

“No, I don’t know,” Yoongi teases, reaching for his hand. “Tell me.”

“Do you think we’re a couple?”

“Well,” Yoongi pauses. “Let’s see; I hit you with a watering can, then you almost ran me over with your car, then we had some wine and now we’re sleeping together. What do you think?”

Maybe he should’ve phrased that differently. Sleeping together doesn’t exactly sound like something Hoseok wants to hear. It sounds more like casual fuck buddies; something less serious and more forgettable. And what they have, at least to Hoseok, is certainly serious. Unforgettable.  

“Maybe we should talk about it later,” he says as Jin and Taehyung bring the cake. Yoongi gives him a strange look, hoping he hasn’t just fucked things up somehow.

Jin and Taehyung announce they’ve quit their horrible jobs at the horrible company, to everyone’s enthusiasm.

“Hyung, what are you gonna do now?” Jimin asks.

“I already got another job offer,” Jin smiles sweetly. “And Taehyung…” he pauses, glancing at him. Taehyung clears his throat.

“I’m not sure yet. I got a few offers but, we might move. We think it could be good for us to see the world. Try new things,” he smiles.

Yoongi immediately feels sad about the possibility, but he’d be happy if Taehyung was happy no matter how far away. It takes him a moment, though, to realize that we means Taehyung and Jungkook.

Yoongi jerks his head in Jungkook’s direction.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, eyes wide.

“I really don’t know, hyung,” he says sheepishly. “Not right away, that’s for sure. Not until we finish this project. Who even knows, really,” he says, looking down at his plate. Yoongi takes a moment to mull over the thought.

“I’d be sad to see you go,” he says, a small smile curving in the corners of his lips. “As long as you’re happy, though.”

They share a moment, just looking at each other, and Jungkook gives him a small nod. It’s like he’s patting him on the back, telling him everything will be okay. Wherever he goes, whenever he goes, wherever he ends up—it’ll be okay.

Yoongi trusts him enough to let go if and when that moment comes, if ever at all.

Yoongi spends the rest of the evening talking to Jimin and Jungkook, until Taehyung steals him for a moment, takes him out on the balcony, and thanks him. For everything.

For keeping Jungkook safe all these years, for keeping him company, for being a great mentor and a friend. Yoongi almost cries, asking if this is goodbye, and Taehyung pulls him into a hug and whispers.

“It’s never goodbye, just see you later.”

And Yoongi trusts him.



“Ah, why are you leaving so early, is there anything I could do—” Jin whines loudly.

“Save it, we know you want us to leave so you could go to sleep at 9 like a grandpa,” Yoongi croaks.

“How dare you!”

“Don’t worry, we wouldn’t wanna miss our show,” Yoongi grins.

“Hyung, thanks for dinner. It was lovely. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” Hoseok smiles, pulling Jin into a hug. “Namjoon, you think you’ll be able to make some room for the new little friend over there?” Hoseok grins, pointing to the little succulent they brought. Namjoon practically beams with joy.

“Of course,” he says enthusiastically. “I think he’ll have a special spot on my office desk. Thanks, you two.”

“You’re welcome,” Yoongi drawls. “Just don’t ever ask me to water it—”

“Yoongi, succulents don’t really need that much water—”

“I’m begging you,” Jin wails. “Save it for one of your dates.”

“Speaking of,” Yoongi raises his brows, gaze on Namjoon. “I’ll see you next week, right?”

“Right,” Namjoon beams.

“Thanks, guys,” Jin says before they leave. “And also, you two make a nice couple. I like it. You have my blessing.”

“Finally,” Yoongi grins.

They drive to Yoongi’s place in silence. It’s one of those comfortable silences where words simply aren’t necessary. Hoseok’s eyes are on the road, but he darts a glance or two Yoongi’s way when they stop at the red light. Yoongi flashes him a soft smile and Hoseok reciprocates, smiling more brightly.

“I’m stealing your pajamas,” Hoseok announces the second they enter the apartment.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be needing them,” Yoongi adds casually. Hoseok turns around.

“There’s two hours of the show we need to watch. Don’t pounce just yet, flower boy,” Hoseok grins, leaning into a kiss. Yoongi bites his lip.

“I am aware. You could still sleep naked, you know.”

“Do you want me to sleep naked?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Maybe try suggesting that again in spring,” Hoseok snickers.

“Too bad,” Yoongi scrunches his nose, following Hoseok into the bathroom.

“I mean, you can always undress me, you know—if you want to,” Hoseok adds nonchalantly. “But also please don’t let me freeze to death.”

“I would never,” Yoongi raises his brows, grabbing his toothbrush.

“Undress me or let me freeze?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

“You’re such a tease, Yoongi-ssi,” Hoseok grins, squeezing a line of toothpaste on his brush.

“You can drop the honorifics, you know.”

“Nah,” Hoseok grins. “It suits you, Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi gets all flustered while brushing his teeth, Hoseok leaning his head on his shoulder sleepily. They hop into the shower after Hoseok makes him promise he won’t pounce, because they made a deal to watch the show finale. Yoongi can barely keep his word, but he does, and they’re out of the shower soon enough, pulling their pajamas on.

They get comfortable on the couch, warm under the fluffy blankets. The show starts and they don’t talk much; they just kiss every now and then, soft and sweet, just to let each other know they’re both still here.

“Just for the record,” Yoongi clears his throat when the commercial break pops up on the screen. “I do think we’re a couple, Hoseok. I think it’d be a dick move to be with you the way I have and sleep around with other people. Or see other people, like other people—doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah?” he looks at him, lifting his head up from where he was resting on Yoongi’s chest, listening to his heartbeats.

“Yeah,” Yoongi presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, I wanna make you mine, is that okay with you?”

“I already am, Yoongi-ssi,” he smiles. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“And Hoseok?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I hope you stay.”

Another moment of silence.

“Wouldn’t wanna go anywhere,” he says, a smile enveloping his face.  

The show ends. Hoseok is half-asleep, head on Yoongi’s chest, breathing into his neck. Yoongi doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, let alone for selfish reasons, but he does have a whole king-size bed they could sleep in.

“Seokie,” he whispers, running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair gently. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“’m not sleepy,” he murmurs, not opening his eyes. Yoongi lowers his head to press another kiss to his forehead, clicking the off button on the remote.

Darkness swallows the living room, the only source of light coming from the moonlight seeping through the light curtains. Moonlight falls on Hoseok’s face, accentuating the lines of his face and body. It’s like he’s been drawn on paper in the prettiest, most glistening colors.

It’s like he’s been painted by the makers of the universe who granted him the prettiest lips, a perfect pointy nose, and added a splash of gold to his glowing skin. Yoongi can’t stop looking, doesn’t want to look away, because Hoseok is ethereal under the moonlight.

Yoongi runs his fingers down his spine, Hoseok letting out a muffled hum in response. Yoongi’s fingers find their way underneath Hoseok’s shirt, leaving soothing traces all over his skin, gently tracing Hoseok’s collarbones, his ribs, his lower back.

Hoseok squirms, finally lifting his head to place a kiss on Yoongi’s lips. And then another one. It starts sweet and timid; a rhapsody of gentleness and affection, until it explodes into passionate, messy kisses and Yoongi’s pulling his shirt off, Hoseok’s hands exploring every fragment of Yoongi’s body.

Hoseok’s breath is warm, the minty flavor lingering on his tongue, and Yoongi kisses him hungrily. Bites his lip once. Twice. Bites until his teeth are grazing his lip and jaw, and he’s sucking kisses into his neck. Hoseok lets out little whimpers as his hand slides under Yoongi’s shirt. Yoongi’s hands are in Hoseok’s hair again, driving him crazy, making him starve with want, setting his mind on fire.

Yoongi’s been with people. Yoongi’s been in love with people. And it’s not like everything in his life was bad before Hoseok showed up. It’s not like he was broken to the point of irreparable, and Hoseok somehow managed to magically fix him. No, Yoongi was fine. He was really quite fine.

But then Hoseok showed up, breathed, and Yoongi lost the game on the very first level. The easiest one. He lost the game and surrendered completely, because everything that was fine turned into more than fine, and everything that was good turned into something better. Yoongi is better with Hoseok, he knows it. And when Hoseok touches him,

Yoongi forgets what day it is,

Where he is,

And forgets to remember his own name.

There’s just Hoseok and his moans, and the way Yoongi’s name leaves his heart-shaped mouth makes Yoongi feel like he’s never been touched before. There’s just Hoseok.

Only Hoseok.

“Oh, fuck,” Yoongi breathes a moan into Hoseok’s mouth. Their movements are rushed, heartbeats racing, bodies swaying together underneath the moonlight. Hoseok grinds his hips down on Yoongi, his whisper right in Yoongi’s ear, dangerous and hungry, making Yoongi’s head spin.

“Wanna fuck you tonight,” he breathes, leaving kisses up and down Yoongi’s neck, his finger tugging on the waistband of Yoongi’s underwear. “Can I, do you wanna—”

“Yes, fuck, please,” Yoongi gasps, Hoseok pulling his underwear down, wrapping his fingers around the base of Yoongi’s cock. “Bedroom,” Yoongi blurts.

Hoseok kisses him wet and messy, tugging his shirt to pull him closer.

“Come on, pretty boy,” he says, pulling his hand to help him up.

They lose the clothes on the way to the bedroom, nearly crashing and colliding with the walls and the lamps. Yoongi falls on the bed, his exposed back met with the soft silky fabric of the bedsheets. Hoseok is on top of him in no time, leaving kisses all over, dragging his fingers all over. Yoongi feels like his body is on fire, like he can’t breathe, and he wouldn’t fucking change it for the world.

Hoseok pulls away, positioning himself between Yoongi’s thighs. Yoongi shudders at the sensation of Hoseok’s wet mouth around the tip of his cock, and the way Hoseok swirls his tongue has him seeing stars.

“Hoseok—fuck—please,” he pants, lost in the sensations.

“Somebody’s a little impatient,” Hoseok murmurs as he pulls away, but doesn’t stop. He wets Yoongi’s cock with his spit until it’s so slick that Yoongi moans.

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come and you know it,” Yoongi lets out a whine, immediately silenced as Hoseok swallows down, taking it all in. “Fuck, shit, oh god, god—”

Hoseok pulls away, a devilish grin on his face as he glances at him.

“God, you’re pretty,” Hoseok breathes. He gets off the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Yoongi lying naked, mouth half-open, gasping his name.

Hoseok pulls a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms out of the drawer, and gets back on the bed. He’s back at kissing Yoongi’s neck, his lips, thumbs gently sliding over Yoongi’s nipples.

“Wanna turn around for me?” he asks, kissing Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi nods, quickly turning to lie on his stomach, and Hoseok gets behind him. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Yoongi,” he says, running his palms across Yoongi’s ass.

Yoongi gets lost in the euphoria as Hoseok smacks his ass gently several times, before his grip becomes firmer and steadier, and Yoongi pants out his name. Hoseok grabs the lube and drizzles some over his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks, voice hoarse, and Yoongi whimpers.

“Yes, I’m ready, just do it—want you to fuck me, Seok,” Yoongi moans, his face buried in the pillow.

Hoseok slides one finger inside carefully, slowly not to hurt him, and Yoongi’s mind goes blank. Hoseok is gentle with him despite Yoongi’s hungry pleas, and he works him slowly before sliding another finger inside.

“Fuck—fuckoh,” Yoongi moans, most of it muffled by the pillow until he lifts his head up when Hoseok slides a third finger.

“You like that, hm?” he breathes, stretching him out slowly, gently, before his fingers build up to a faster pace.

“I like it, Hoseok, I—” Yoongi’s voice cracks, and Hoseok quickens the tempo. “Fuck me—”

“I don’t want it to hurt, god, just,” Hoseok licks his lips, his fingers sliding in and out. Yoongi lets out another whine and Hoseok pulls his fingers out.

“It won’t hurt, I’ll be fine, okay?” Yoongi looks over his shoulder. Hoseok rips the packet of condoms open with his teeth, doing his best to pull it on as quickly as possible.

The room is dark, his fingers are slick, and he can’t see what he’s doing so he stops to laugh, voice hoarse and cracking.

“What are you doing—”

“Just gimme a second,” Hoseok grins, pulling Yoongi’s hips a little upwards so his ass is on full display, spanking it once.

Then, slowly and carefully as not to break him, he pushes his cock inside. Yoongi moans, and at this point he’s stopped caring about how loud he is, and he just surrenders to the moment. Hoseok’s movements quicken, breaths shallow and rushed, and he moves his hips forward. His hand is on Yoongi’s ass, thumbs pressing into the soft skin, and Hoseok lets out a quiet moan like he’s trying to suppress it.

Yoongi would argue that this is the best fuck of his life, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of Hoseok hitting all the right spots or it’s because he’s just that damn good, but maybe it’s just—Hoseok.

Hoseok asking what he likes. Asking what he wants. How he wants it.

Hoseok trying to make him feel good, moving his body in the rhythm of Yoongi’s moans.

They get lost in it, Hoseok’s pace quick and steady, until he’s fucking him hard and fast, bottoming out every time and there’s nothing Yoongi can do but try not to lose his breath.

Fuck—Hoseok—fuck—,” Yoongi cries out when the tip of Hoseok’s cock brushes against his prostate, the sensation in his body sending him all the way to Mars, making him shiver, quiver and whimper. Hoseok can’t help but smirk as he slows down his pace until he stops completely. “What are you—”

“Wanna see your face,” he breathes, pulling out.

Yoongi doesn’t complain. He rolls around, lying on his back, waiting. Hoseok hovers over him, hands gently grasping Yoongi’s wrists, pushing him down into the mattress. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat.

“Hey handsome,” Hoseok almost snickers, breathless.

“Are you trying to buy time ‘cause you’re exhausted,” Yoongi whines, voice husky and low.

“Fuck off,” Hoseok retorts with the world’s brightest smile. His hair is damp from sweat, stuck to his forehead, the loveliest glow on his skin.

Yoongi could just stare at him for hours, trying to soak up every single line that makes up his face and body, but there would always be one little detail he’d miss. There’s something about Hoseok that makes him feel like he could look at him forever and never really have enough.

Hoseok slides his cock back inside, deep, and Yoongi gasps. Hoseok thrusts into him, holding his wrists down. He leans in for a kiss, a sort of messy exchange of breaths, lips barely touching.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—gonna come,” Yoongi whimpers, Hoseok hitting the same spot again, making Yoongi’s toes curl, his tingles traveling down his spine.

Hoseok thrusts inside and Yoongi reaches his orgasm, head dizzy and vision blurry. His eyelashes flutter open, drops of sweat gliding down his forehead while he tries to figure out what year it is and how to breathe again. Yoongi pulls Hoseok into a deep kiss, gliding his tongue over his lips, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. Hoseok pushes deep inside, movements shaky and irregular, his hips moving forward frantically until he comes, face buried in Yoongi’s neck.

Hoseok comes, breathing Yoongi’s name into his ear.

“Oh my god,” Hoseok whimpers as he pulls out, crashing onto the bed next to Yoongi.

Yoongi just stares at the ceiling, trying to steady his breathing. His hand instinctively searches for Hoseok’s, gliding across the silky sheets, and he gently grasps his palm. Intertwines their fingers together. Breathes.

They lay like that in silence, hands holding onto each other tightly. Hoseok props himself up then, pulls the condom off, and turns to Yoongi.

Glistening eyes, swollen lips from kissing, bruises sucked into the skin below his collarbones. If Hoseok was a painting, he’d be the prettiest one; and if he was a constellation, he’d be the brightest one.

Hoseok pulls him closer, Yoongi surrendering completely, his whole body feeling liquid and light.

Yoongi loves him, he knows it.

“Seokie,” he breathes, Hoseok nuzzling his neck, pulling him closer.

“Yoongi-ssi,” he hums, leaving soft kisses on his neck.

“Pinch me so I know you’re real,” he says, Hoseok letting out a throaty laugh, their gazes meeting.

“You’re ridiculous, flower boy.”

“So are you, pretty boy.”

“We make a pretty good match, then, don’t we?” Hoseok smiles.

“Pretty darn good, Hoseokie,” Yoongi murmurs, pulling him into a kiss.

And they kiss for a long time.



Sunlight seeps through the curtains.

A hearty laughter bounces off the walls, filling up the room, filling Yoongi’s heart.

The past several months have brought some change to his life; the kind of change he was scared of, but welcomed with open arms. The tall ceiling in his apartment is still the same height, the walls are still the same white they’ve always been. The apartment is still huge, modern and monochromatic, just how Yoongi’s always liked it. But now, there’s an orange toothbrush next to Yoongi’s, a blue sweater thrown over the expensive suede chair, a green coffee mug on the kitchen counter.

There’s a tuft of black hair peeking through the covers, and a pair of brown eyes that Yoongi wakes up to every morning.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t like plants. But Yoongi likes Hoseok and the way he’s brought change into his life.

It’s no longer chaos. It’s just change. Yoongi’s learned that things change, time passes, and things go. He’s learned to accept it and let go of what pains him, but keep what makes him happy if it wants to stay.

Hoseok makes him happy and by the look of things, he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere.

Hoseok hums I love you in his ear every morning, Yoongi makes breakfast and they make out before going to work. Yoongi gets a little plant for his desk just because Hoseok suggested it once during a commercial break, and Hoseok gets a whole ass ficus for the living room. Yoongi doesn’t object.

Instead, they sit on the gray couch, look at the growing plant and bicker about how they’re going to name it.

Maybe plants aren’t that bad after all, Yoongi guesses. They just need a little bit of water, a little bit of sunlight, and a little bit of love.

Just like Yoongi does.



“And that’s a wrap,” Yoongi announces, closing all programs and documents, swirling in his desk chair. Jungkook sits next to him, a wide grin on his face. “We did it. Project officially done,” Yoongi says, gleaming.

“It feels surreal, doesn’t it?” Jungkook poses.

“It does,” Yoongi nods. “Feels good. It was rough at the beginning, but I have to say the last few months were enjoyable. I feel like we eased into it,” he says pensively. Jungkook nods.

“I think you were just a little stressed when we started.”

“Could be,” Yoongi nods. “So, tell me about your plans. Wanna keep working with me or are you gonna run as far as your feet will carry you?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook lets out a whine, scrunching his nose. Yoongi laughs. “I love working with you. Except for the constant threats about firing me, I like it.”

Yoongi wheezes.

“We haven’t decided anything yet, really,” he shrugs. “I think Tae really likes his new job. We might leave, but that’s probably somewhere in the future. I still wanna travel and see what’s out there, but for now, I think here is good,” he says, beaming.

“I have to say I’m really glad to hear that,” Yoongi says, gummy smile on full display. “So, what do you say? Another project?”

“Of course, hyung, keep ‘em coming,” Jungkook nods, a big and wide grin on his face.


“How’s Hoseok doing? How are things? Wait, aren’t you going on vacation or something?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi grins. “I managed to get a few days off, Hoseok did too, so we’re gonna escape the city for a few days.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It is,” Yoongi nods. “And Hoseok is doing well. It’s… things are just really great. And I know what you’re gonna say—you’re gonna say I’m losing myself in things again, but I really think this… maybe this one works out.”

“Actually, I don’t think you’re losing yourself. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“You think?”

“For sure. Hoseok is good for you, I think,” Jungkook nods. “And he’s hilarious, so I’d definitely want to see him stick around.”

“Me too, my friend, me too,” Yoongi smiles blissfully. “Wanna join me for lunch? I can tell you more about it,” Yoongi offers, getting up from his chair. There’s no way Jungkook would turn down a free lunch.

“Of course, hyung, how could I ever say no to you?”

“It’s because of the meat, isn’t it?”

“Nonsense, hyung. The meat is just a bonus to your lovely company.”

“Pull your head out of my ass or I’m firing you,” Yoongi chuckles.

“And here we go again,” Jungkook laughs.

And just like Yoongi has a soft spot for Jungkook, Jungkook has a soft spot for Yoongi. They make a great team together but, more importantly, Yoongi doesn’t have to say goodbye to one of his closest friends.

Not just yet, that is, and even though Taehyung promised a see you later instead of a goodbye, Yoongi would rather stick to see you tomorrow for as long as he possibly can.



“I have a favor to ask.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve a foursome with you and Hoseok, I’m game.”

“Who’s the fourth one?”

“Jin, of course.”

“So you’d be opposed to a foursome, but a threesome could slide?”

“Depends who’s out of the equation.”

“Namjoon-ah, if you tell me you’d have a threesome with your boyfriend and my boyfriend, I’m seriously going to block your number,” Yoongi says in deadpan, Namjoon chuckling.

“Let’s just stick to what we have.”

“Deal,” Yoongi says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Anyway, the favor doesn’t involve sexual favors of any kind, no.”

“What is it?”

“I was wondering,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Actually, before I say it, I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise what?” Namjoon squints his eyes, leaning back in his chair comfortably.

“When I say what I’m about to say, you’re not gonna comment,” Yoongi pauses.

“I’m not allowed to say anything?”



“You’ll understand.”

“Fine, would you just say it already—”

“Could you do me a favor and watch my apartment while I’m gone? I have some workers coming to do some minor renovations, but I’m leaving town.”

“Uh, sure?”

“You sound indecisive.”

“I’m not, I just—it’s not a problem at all, but why would I comment on it?”

“Because,” Yoongi purses his lips, lowering his voice almost to the point where Namjoon can’t hear him. “It’d be cool if you could water my desk plant too, and my ficus. And the third plant, you know, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

Namjoon blinks at him repeatedly, shocked to his very core. Despite his promise, there’s no way he’s not going to comment on it, and Yoongi knows it damn well. It was a futile attempt, anyway.

“You have plants?”


“You got plants for your apartment? Seriously? Like, real, actual plants that aren’t plastic ones?”

“Yes, I got a few plants for the apartment. They’re not the worst thing that has happened to me, and also, they haven’t died yet. It’s been several weeks and no, I wasn’t planning on telling you.”


“But only because you’d get into this long ass monologue and, I’m sorry, Joon-ah, but getting three apartment plants does not mean I’m suddenly interested in biology.”



“I wasn’t gonna give you a lecture about it,” Namjoon scoffs, pretending to be deeply offended. And then, he actually does give Yoongi a lecture about it, unable to hide his enthusiasm. A half an hour and a cup of coffee later, Namjoon finishes his monologue. Yoongi looks like all life has been drained out of him.

“Thanks, that was really… You know, when somebody asks you how’s work, you can just say fine. Fine is good,” he whines pathetically.

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon grins sheepishly. “But there’s a lot to learn! Plants are super interesting and fun. You gotta take care of them.”

“I know, but I wasn’t planning on getting a plant degree for the purpose of having a few plants in my apartment.”

“What about Hoseok—”

“Neither was he. Actually, I was wondering if you had like a book or something to borrow. I’d be okay with reading about it. But like, only the paragraphs pertaining to the specific species of the plants in my apartment. No more than that.”

“Of course I have books,” Namjoon frowns. “But—oh! I could make you a little manual!” he suggests enthusiastically, eyes glistening.


“Yes! Really,” he nods. “Or a presentation, I could give you and Hoseok a whole presentation about it—”

“A manual will be fine, thank you,” Yoongi cuts him off, grinning.

“Alright,” Namjoon nods. “I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Namjoon-ah.”

“It’s no problem, really. I can’t stress it enough how unproblematic this favor is for me.”

“I’m glad,” Yoongi nods. “We’ll only be gone for four days but you can stay at the apartment. Sleep in the big bed, it’s fine, just change the sheets, please.”

“Of course, hyung.”

“And whatever you do—whatever you do, please don’t fuck on my suede chair,” Yoongi says with an exhausted expression, Namjoon wheezing. “Seriously, whatever you do, just don’t do it on my chair. Please. Hoseok wanted to do it on the chair, but I had to say no—”

“That’s oversharing,” Namjoon widens his eyes.

“I’m just trying to emphasize my point. Anyway, make yourselves at home.”

“We will. Ooh, gotta text Jinie, he’ll be super excited to be staying at your fancy ass apartment.”

“Oh, and if he brings the cat, please don’t let it pee on the chair.”


“Or scratch the chair, oh my god,” Yoongi laments.

“I got it, okay, look, I’m writing it down,” Namjoon flashes him the screen of his phone, a few notes jotted down already. “Water plants, watch the workers, fuck on the chair.”

“I don’t think you understand how serious I am,” Yoongi frowns. “That chair cost more than my kidney would.”

“I’m kidding, hyung. Look,” he shows him the notes again. “Water plants, avoid the chair, wreck the rest of the apartment. But not the chair.”

“Perfect,” Yoongi says in deadpan.

“No, really. You got it. We’ll take care of the place, don’t worry,” Namjoon nods enthusiastically.

“Okay, thank you,” Yoongi flashes him a fond smile, pulling a keychain out of his pocket. “Here, don’t lose it,” he says.

A silly little palm tree pendant hangs from it, the one Jin and Namjoon brought him from their vacation last year, and Namjoon immediately recognizes it. A smile envelops his face, dimples showing, and he promises Yoongi to take care of his apartment one more time.

If Namjoon wasn’t his best friend, Yoongi could’ve possibly had to cancel his trip with Hoseok. And that would’ve been terrible, because Yoongi feels like he’s deserved a few days of relaxation after all the work he’s done. After they’ve successfully finished the project. Luckily for him, Namjoon is his best friend, and he can go knowing he’s leaving everything in good hands.



The morning dew freshens the air, the rising sun painting the sky a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks, tones of deep blue slowly fading from the sky. Yoongi walks out of the apartment building with luggage in one hand, shuddering at the sudden exposure to coldness. Hoseok walks out right behind him with his own suitcase, and blinks sleepily at the dawn sky.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“What—the unbearably freezing temperature or the horrifically early hour of the day?” Yoongi groans, putting the luggage in the trunk. Hoseok laughs, his voice hoarse, eyelids heavy with sleepiness.

“This was your idea, you know,” Hoseok glances at him. Yoongi closes the drunk, waddling over to Hoseok and burying his face in his scarf. Hoseok puts his arms around him, pressing a sweet little kiss to his cheek.

“I know,” Yoongi mumbles, looking up. “I’m having doubts about it now.”

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind once we get there,” Hoseok grins.

“If you say so,” Yoongi shrugs, leaving a wet kiss on Hoseok’s mouth.

“Trust me.”

“I love you; you know that?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows furrowed.

It’s something he tells Hoseok all the time—early in the mornings, at random times in the afternoons, and late in the evenings. Hoseok’s pretty aware of the fact by now, but Yoongi’s asking like he wants to check. Like he wants to make sure Hoseok knows, really knows that he loves him.

It’s like he’s asking if he’s changed his mind. If he still wants to stay.

“I know,” Hoseok smiles. “Love you too, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Good,” Yoongi nods.

They get into the car and leave, Hoseok offering to drive after seeing Yoongi’s sleepy gaze. He’ll drive after his morning coffee, he insists, and that’s how they compromise.

Yoongi leans comfortably in his seat, feeling warm. He thinks of the little succulent on his desk table. It’s a spiky little dude, and Yoongi’s already grown fond of it. As Namjoon explained, it’ll be just fine without water, but not without sunlight.

Plants need sunlight to grow. To thrive. To live.

Just like people do.

A little bit of sunlight, and a little bit of love.

And luckily for Yoongi, Hoseok is both.