Chapter Text
“that cannot be right,” yoongi teases, chin resting on your shoulder. you huff, but don’t comment while erasing the letters on your crossword puzzle.
you’re sitting on the floor padded by one of the couch cushions that yoongi laid out for you as you stumbled out of his bedroom half an hour ago.
the idol is spread across the couch, laying on his stomach. occasionally, he moves closer to you to breathe in the smell behind your neck.
“maybe try ‘tang’,” he tries again after he sees how unforgiving you chew on his pen. you huff again, but damn it… ‘tang’ does fit perfectly. better than your ‘zhou’.
“i don’t want your help. i can manage that on my own,” you say, childishly hiding the puzzle by pressing it to your chest.
now it’s the rapper who huffs at your answer. “it’s not help if it’s from me.”
and you remember how gentle he applied the ointment on your bruised skin last night, how soft his embrace was as the both of you fell asleep. yeah, yoongi doesn’t help you – he just tries to redeem himself.
“do you want some iced tea?” he asks when you don’t respond. the sun is high up in the sky and you turn slowly to him. he is close, so close you can see the sunlight on his skin. you nod in answer and see his lips turn up. there is a moment you feel his lips on your cheek. but it’s gone before you can think about it for too long. yoongi doesn’t kiss your cheeks. it must have been the sun.
**
“tell me again why this,” you point to one microphone in front of you, “isn’t as good as this?”
you are really not trying to tell the min yoongi what equipment he can and cannot buy. but the two microphones are one diamond necklace apart pricewise. and you distinctly remember seeing the logo of the cheaper one in his studio last time you’ve visited.
“_______, these two aren’t even in the same tax class,” yoongi says slowly like he’s talking to a child and takes the cheaper microphone out of your hand.
the both of you are the only ones in the store. it’s now late afternoon because neither yoongi nor you wanted to get up after he brought back your iced tea and some snacks.
but the store manager can’t close the store any day, so when he called to tell yoongi about the new products arriving today, he reluctantly got up and you with him.
“okay, then we’ll buy the ridiculously expensive one,” you say defeated and grab for the carton. the idol just chuckles at your tone as the both of you make your way to the cash register.
the store manager looks at yoongi with heart eyes still not believing his luck at having the superstar in his store.
“we’ll take that,” you say in greeting and with an air of distance. you’re not here in your free time. this is work. you even have your hybe badge on your jeans that barely fit over your sensitive skin. it was sheer luck that you had some clothes at yoongi’s place, you think.
the manager doesn’t look at you, but he does take the microphone out of your hands. it alright, you tell yourself. next to the idol you are invisible. with your now free hands you rummage through your bag to get the company credit card out to pay for the new equipment.
but before you can pull it out, yoongi reaches across the isle with his own black credit card. you remember the first time one of the members tried to use that on a vending machine and how confused jungkook looked at the ‘declined’ sign.
“that’s your personal card, yoongi-ssi,” you inform the idol. he just shrugs at you while the man in front of him rings the card through check-out.
“it’s for my personal studio at home – why should the company pay for that?” he explains aloof.
it’s for his private studio? but then why are you even –
“she’ll carry it,” yoongi says and turns around before the clerk can even give him back his card. the superstar leaves the store and you behind. in front of the store, you see jae open the car door for yoongi. the driver is looking at the store front and for a moment your eyes meet. then he gets into the car himself before driving off with the idol.
“miss?” the store manager asks, not in the mood now that his idol vanished without so much as a second glance. you sigh, not really expecting much from yoongi, but still slightly annoyed at him for leaving you here alone.
you thank the man and collect yoongi’s things before leaving yourself. for a moment you are at a loss: should you go back to his place and drop off the microphone? you look at your watch. the sun won’t be up much longer, and you haven’t been home since before the award show.
as you make up your mind you order the next uber to get you home. you’ll be careful with his possessions.
**
“you” sunhee kisses your hair.
“are” sunhee kisses your cheek.
“the” sunhee kisses your nose.
“best” sunhee kisses your other cheek.
“roommate” sunhee kisses your lips.
“ever” sunhee hugs you so tight that you squeal.
“what – why?” you ask, no air between your words, courtesy to her vice grip.
you haven’t even let go of yoongi’s bag or your keys. but your roommate didn’t care and jumped at you the second the door closed behind you.
“what do you want, ____? tell me and it’ll happen! my firstborn? ice cream? world peace?” she asks and starts to sway the both of you, still hugging you a bit too hard.
“the firstborn in a cone, please,” you answer as you try to wiggle yourself free. “and a bit of help with my paper,” you add. with how mad your professor was acting last time, you need all the help you can get. even if you have no clue why she’s this thankful.
“_____,” sunhee starts and releases you. she looks you deep in the eyes, more serious than you want her to be., “i’ll carve your paper in stone for the kim woo bin autograph you got me.”
now her eyes flash to the wall in your living room and you see the framed poster of the actor, scribbled with some handwritten words. how, you think flabbergasted. you didn’t even talk to him.
**
“it’s not here.” mr. yang’s voice sounds frantic, and you need a second to blink the sleep out of your eyes. a piece of paper is stuck to your cheek as you see your roommate asleep on the couch next to you. there are open books and your two laptops scattered around the coffee table. the screens are the only light source in your flat. it’s a typical university students set up – the only thing missing is cheap instant food and some even cheaper coffee.
“_____? are you even listening?” your boss is not speaking quietly, so your half-awake body moves on its own to let sunhee sleep in peace.
“sorry, what?” you ask when you’re safely in the kitchen. you really have to tidy this place, you think absently as you see the tower of dirty dishes by the sink.
“the microphone, ____! what do you think i’m talking about?” he hisses and you flinch at his words. he can’t talk about the same microphone that sits idly next to your front door, still sealed.
“but… it’s for yoongi-ssi’s private studio, not the hybe one,” you say in a whisper.
at first your boss just laughs, then he gets really angry.
“even if, _____, even if… it’s neither here nor at his home. i sent someone half an hour ago to check. which leaves only one possibility: you took his 4.000.000 won microphone back to your own home.” mr. yang let’s his last words blend into silence.
“tell me i’m wrong,” he orders, but you can’t.
“i'll… i’ll” there is bile rising in your throat. mr. yang is rarely this mad. “i’ll be there in twenty minutes. i promise,” you vow and run to get your slippers. you are praying that the night bus will be waiting for you.
“don’t bother, _____. i already sent someone to get you.” you do have to throw up after your boss hangs up, but its fast and efficient. you rush down the steps with a mint between your lips and your heart beating fast. the mic is tugged close to your chest as you look for a familiar company car.
you don’t find any sleek suv, or even the familiar face of jae. then, a bright red mini cooper blinks from across the street.
“hurry, _____!” hoseok whisper-shouts with the windows rolled down.
you fasten your steps and get in the car swallowing down your mint after biting it to pieces.
“what is a legal intern doing at three in the morning running errands for management?” you ask in greeting, not unkind, just surprised.
hoseok doesn’t waste time and starts to drive on the empty street.
“what is a management part timer doing with min yoongi’s equipment at home?” he fires back with a cheeky smile.
you chuckle, not ready to share too much with your new acquaintance… or friend?
“i grabbed some iced tea for you on the way here,” he says, pointing at the melting plastic cup that you overlooked until now.
okay… friend seems to be fair.
**
“should i deliver it to mr. min?” hoseok asks as the both of you step into the empty elevator.
for a second you are flabbergasted – nobody ever offered anymore. if there is something to bring to min yoongi, nobody dares to do it with you in the same room. one time the idol just dropped the documents, delivered by a senior coworker of yours, directly at their feet. only after you got on your knees to help them sort the dozen pages of legal documents did he move.
it was a lonely lunch in the cafeteria that day.
“you know… because you have to smooth things over with mr. yang? the guy who pays your paychecks? short? glasses that could be vases for tiny flowers? that mr. yang?”
this hoseok doesn’t know that as long as min yoongi wants you here, you stay.
“maybe i’ll apologize to the multibillion won superstar first,” you mumble, only to add: “but thanks for offering, hoseok-ssi.”
“you don’t have to be so formal, _____. let’s drop the honorifics, shall we?”
there is a time and place to think about the blush coloring your cheeks at his words. but it’s not now when you arrive at yoongi's floor.
with a swift bow you flee from the elevator, hearing him laugh loudly behind you.
the door to the genius lab is laughing you in the face as well as you shift in front of the entrance. you brain is still catching up tonight - yoongi's demand for the mic at this hour is more than suspicious. but your thoughts can’t untangle themselves. and then the door opens without warning.
“_______-noona!” jungkook exclaims, way too excited for half past four in the morning. his eyes shine and his smile stretches so wide, you can see how tight his lips have to stretch.
“jeon jungkook-ssi, are you drunk?” you ask. his face breaks into a laugh, answering you without words.
“it's all yoongi-hyung’s fault!” jimin shouts from inside, making you flinch at the volume.
jungkook has pushed you inside before you can blink. the studio is dimly lit, but you’d recognize the heartthrob and your rapper even in darkness. both are stretched across the couch you’ve been fucked on and forgotten.
the memory tastes bitter.
“yah, don’t touch her!” yoongi's voice is cold as he stares daggers at jungkook’s hand on your shoulder. the maknae let’s go at once, skidding to his spot on the floor.
“come on, he’s just a kid,” jimin says and takes a swing out of his beer bottle.
“doesn’t matter,” yoongi answers and kicks his bandmate under the couch table.
“hi,” you say when nobody talks to you. you are still standing in the room without purpose. the mic! you take a few steps closer and push the sealed box into yoongi’s lap, before bowing in apology.
“i’m so, so sorry about the mix up, yoongi-ssi. it won’t happen again.”
you know even sleep deprived and with the aftertaste of cheap iced tea on your tongue that you are not totally innocent. still, bowing to an intoxicated idol who on a whim wants another mic – the three sitting at his desk clearly not enough – in the middle of the night, feels unjust.
said idol pushes the box back into your hands.
“put it on the desk.” you nod, wordlessly following his orders. now you are done here, you think, dreaming of your soft bed at home.
“join us,” yoongi says. you are so shocked that you don’t even notice jungkook’s wide eyes nor jimin’s blank expression. you only look at the idol with flushed cheeks.
yoongi must have worked out and changed because the rapper is dressed in his post workout cloths, the dark grey joggers and a white oversized t-shirt. his hair is insane, waves all around his head. it looks so… soft.
you move in autopilot, pushing past jungkook to sit down between jimin and yoongi. the latter moves further away from you, making it all the more clear how much you don’t fit in this circle.
but then yoongi winds his arm around your shoulders, only to push with his palm against your shoulder blade – the same spot that is marked with his bruising kiss from the day before. you flinch, the pain still too fresh to be ignored.
and then yoongi begins to rub soothing circles across the same spot he abused. it feels more intimate than it looks, you tell yourself as you watch jungkook take another sip of his beer.
“are you excited for new zealand, noona?” it’s now jimin who talks to you while yoongi does not even look in your direction, but the movement of his fingers falters.
you smile sadly. the only way for you to be able to join is if your professor really, truly drops you from his class. you still have some begging in you and some dignity to lose. still, you know what an honor it is to be able to travel with the boys. and bon voyage is always your pick-me-up show to binge on rainy days.
“are you?” you answer back in a timid whisper. your interaction with the other boys is strange. there is a sense of familiarity and kindship – like when you helped kim taehyung. other times, you feel too far away to even see them clearly.
jungkook begins to rant before jimin can even answer. something about snowmobiles and sunsets. the maknae paints a drunken picture of a true vacation instead of admitting that it’s just a nicer working space for them. it’s so boyish and carefree that you can’t hide your smile.
it’s when both him and jimin fight about some camper bed that you feel your eyes drop. it’s when yoongi moves on from your shoulder and rubs your neck in slow circles that you feel yourself slip away.
**
“don’t look at her,” yoongi says harshly, seeing jimin’s eyes on your sleeping form.
“what? now i’m not even allowed to look?” the other idol fires back. both men don’t care to be quiet. jungkook and you have been asleep for half an hour and yoongi can feel your steady heartbeat against his side.
“jealousy doesn’t become you, jimin-ssi.”
“insanity doesn’t become you either, min yoongi-ssi.”