*ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪᴄꜱᴏɴᴀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ.*
Seokjin was never a friend, he was always something… more .
A friend would cook you a meal, definitely, but not breakfast in bed, not as you just wake up in their oversize sweater, eyes squinting as the sun lights creeping dreamily through the bedroom window, one leg still tangled in their cream coloured bed-sheet.
A friend would listen to your two AM thoughts, wholeheartedly, but not in the same bed, fingers intertwined, all snuggled up under the same sheet, breathing calm but hot breaths onto your neck as they slowly drift away to the sound of your voice.
A friend would give you a towel to dry yourself if you needed a quick shower at their place, but they wouldn’t softly pat you down with their jasmine scented towel, the sizzling noise of the boiling tea kettle soon followed by the sound of a hairdryer while their fingers run through your hair, brushing the tangled mess on your head carefully, delicately—
/ lovingly /.
Yoongi paused, fuckitty fuck fuck .
He doesn’t know what Seokjin and he are, but they’re definitely not just / friends /.
“You’re a domestic couple,” Namjoon calmly explains, knowing well that this is not the first nor will it be the last time he has to break this down for his good friend and co-worker, Yoongi, who has somehow gotten himself into a loving relationship without realising it for the past five years.
“No fucking way,” he snorts.
Him and Seokjin? A couple? Min Yoongi is anything but in love.
“We’re just roommates, good ones at that.”
A sigh escapes his co-worker’s mouth in reply.
It’s half past four and they are the only two people left inside the studio—the perfect timing for a dumb conversation like this.
“Look, me and Hoseok have been roommates since college,” Namjoon starts gesturing with his hands, tilting his head slightly to make his point. “And yes, he’s a good one as well, but he doesn’t wait for me to come home to join him for late dinner every evening. He doesn’t even cook dinner .”
“We don’t do that every evening ,” Yoongi replies with a slightly defensive tone, “I have spent more time in this studio with you than having dinner with him these past weeks.”
It’s true. He practically lives here during comebacks. Sure, they’re doing fine on the chart for rap and hip hop, but the increasing pressure of preparing for good albums always tires him out. Not to mention, the sudden spark of four in the morning ideas and the two hours long traffic on the way home don’t really help much.
He has not seen Seokjin standing in their kitchen with his caramel apron on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, humming some silly tunes as he starts to reheat the delicious meals that he made for them, in at least three weeks. Three torturous weeks.
Yoongi wouldn’t admit this but he misses the sight, / barely / misses it.
“Still, Jin-hyung always brings you homemade dinner, he never misses a day to stop by the studio.”
Not a day goes by that Yoongi doesn’t have a home-cooked meal from him, Seokjin makes sure of it. Ever since they first started living together, Seokjin had made it his personal mission to prevent college Yoongi, the scruffy and angsty young adult with a pile of plastic ramen cups in a corner of his bedroom, from ever happening again. “Ramyun is fun and all but Jesus fucking Christ Yoongi-yah, do you want to live to 35 years old and die from a heart attack? Already planned on leaving me behind then?”
Yoongi smiles. It’s dumb how much Seokjin cares about him.
“We’re roommates, / good ones /.”
“Yeah, sure hyung,” Namjoon nods, clearly giving in, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Seokjin never really stresses himself out much with relationships.
He laughs at things, doesn’t take life seriously enough since he thinks every moment only happens once and you should enjoy it to the fullest, which, to him, means laughing at more things.
He’s an easy-going guy, a boy-next-door, a college roommate you’d wish to have.
He’s / that / kind of guy, and he takes pride in that.
So, when his roommate and best friend of five years asks what they are, he must have an answer right?
Not really. Not even close.
“Why — um, why the odd question Yoongichi?” Seokjin pauses, turning off the running faucet to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. “What do you mean ‘what are we’?”
“You know,” Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek, looking for the words to articulate his thoughts better. All of a sudden, the rapper with the knowledge of thousands of tracks now finds himself struggling with words.
“I don’t, actually.” Seokjin sits there, naked and covered in bubbles as he’s in the middle of a bath while his best friend is slugging outside the bathroom door. The first night they had dinner together in a month and Yoongi is hitting him with this kind of question. He really doesn’t get it.
“Can we talk about this later,” he pauses, “like, when I'm finished with the bath?”
“ Ah fuck ,” he can hear Yoongi facepalming himself, “sure, sure. Just… um, take your time, hyung.”
Then comes silence. And the sound of a running faucet.
Seokjin starts slowly sinking himself in the sea of bubbles as he drifts off.
What are they? Aren’t they roommates and friends? What more could there be?
He really doesn’t get it.
Do all rappers ask their roommates weird questions after a month of not spending time together?
Yoongi really fucked up this time.
“Hey hyung,… what are we?”
What kind of grim question is that? The moment it slipped out, Yoongi felt like the Earth could open up and swallow him whole and he wouldn’t even budge.
He was doing fine, dinner was nice, more than nice and it’s the first time in a month that they got to sit side by side on the couch, all cuddled up to hot seaweed soups, fresh sashimi and kdramas.
And he had to fuck that up.
Seokjin is still in the bathroom, a minute too long for his normal bath, probably too awkward to even face him right now after that philosophical vague shit.
But as much as Yoongi wants to die right now, he believes it’s better to ask than to spend more time wondering.
Because friends don’t—friends don’t do the things they do, do they ?
“Absolutely,” Jungkook answers confidently over the phone, but somehow Seokjin still has the feeling that the kid was still too busy earning his rank in Overwatch to actually listen to what he said.
“So, you’re telling me that I should risk my years of friendship to tell him that we are — ah no, have been a domestic old couple for the past five years of living together?”
“Exactly, geez someone needs a hearing aid,” he scoffs before going back to yelling at his teammates the direction to shoot.
“That’s the stupidest thing you have ever told me, young man.”
Telling his roommate that they’re in love? And old? What the—what kind of advice is that?
“Hey listen here, I’m serious!” Seokjin huffs, “I could lose my best friend over this one silly answer and you’re still focusing on your rank? Yah, kids these days, I practically gave birth to you and this is how you repay me? Ah, I’m so heartbroken.”
Seokjin wasn’t wrong, the older helped Jungkook became who he is today—a man with passions and directions in life, a professional vlogger and streamer . Questionable, but still, Seokjin would support the kid in anything as long as he enjoys it. He, however, didn’t practically give birth to the kid given they were only a few years apart and science hasn’t gone that far.
All his complaints only earn a hard chuckle from Jungkook, “wow and I almost forgot how dramatic you can be sometimes.” Seokjin then hears a light /thud/, probably Jungkook putting down his controller after the victorious match.
“You guys have been friends for like, years, now right?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin nods.
“And how long have you guys been living together? Five?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin nods accordingly again.
“And you’re always eating dinner together, correct? No matter how late one of you get home, you’ll always stay up to have dinner together and talk about your day?”
Seokjin hums a reply.
He and Yoongi have been doing that since their first year of moving in together, after he realised his skinny little angsty college roommate wouldn’t eat anything other than ramen whenever he’s unsupervised, simply because he refused to cook in this economy. Seokjin was horrified, he believed eating was and still is one of the best ways to gain happiness and he could have never pictured someone refusing to give themselves that kind of pleasure in life, even in this economy .
So he started coercing Yoongi into having dinner with him, not in the ‘ shove this down your throat or you’ll never see the lights again’ kind of way, but more like, ‘please eat the food I made for you with me or else I would cry because I am a fragile human being’ . Needless to say, Yoongi caved in and the rest is history.
“And how many nights have you slept together, like, in the same bed?”
“More than I can count — but hey what does that have to do with this?” Seokjin slightly raises his voice, he’d rather not disclose such details with the kid whose imaginary diapers he changed.
He can hear Jungkook laughing on the other end as he has successfully caught his clueless senior off guard.
“I’m asking because friends don’t do that, hyung. Who else in your list of close friends can you name that you also sleep with, eat with and cuddle with?”
And just as simple as that, Seokjin understands Yoongi’s earlier question and confusion.
Friends really don’t do that. He does give his friends hugs and cook for them occasionally but never breakfast in bed, never good morning kisses on their forehead before heading to work, never have any long session of cuddles, never bring them their meals to their work office, never intertwine their fingers while listening to the sound of the pouring rain outside their bedroom window at two AM and never—
He really fucked up this time, didn’t he?
“That’s it. I’m never leaving this bathroom, alive.”
“Seokjin you can’t literally live in a bathroom. Your ego wouldn’t even fit,” Jungkook adds, grinning ear to ear as he finally breaks through to Seokjin, knowing damn well that Jimin and Taehyung now need to pay up for the five bucks they owe him. “And oh, good luck telling your longtime boyfriend that you’re both in love, hyung. Suck to suck doesn’t it?”
“Oh just shut up.”