Work Text:
Hoseok sighs and puts down his phone. He’d finished his meeting late, which meant he missed the chance to get coffee with Jimin.
Hoseok sighs again.
Then, the front door buzzes open. Hoseok perks up for a second, then figures it must be the new guy; he leans back on his chair far enough that he can see over the cubicle divider, rather than show his hand by craning his neck over it.
Hoseok observes him: whoever this guy is, he’s frowning, and he looks bored, as if everything around him is disinteresting. For a brief moment, Hoseok worries that a client has somehow made it past the ID scanner, but then Seokjin leaps up from his seat and crows, “Yoongichi! You’re here!”
Hoseok turns, and sure enough, Jimin meets his gaze.
“Who is that?” Jimin hisses.
Hoseok shrugs, and they both turn to watch as Seokjin bundles the man up in his arms and tugs him towards their area.
“Everyone!” Seokjin says, clapping his hands together. It’s ineffectual; the man’s fingers are still interlaced with Seokjin’s. “This is Min Yoongi, my best friend in the whole world and our new lead brand strategist!”
“Oh, thank god,” Hoseok says, under his breath. He loved working with Soobin and Yeonjun, but a lot of the time they were out of their depth. It was good to know the senior position was filled, even if the man filling it didn’t seem too pleased about it.
The Yoongi gives them all a half-hearted wave.
Everyone else greets him, and Hoseok smiles even brighter when Yoongi’s eyes meet his. He doesn’t miss the way Yoongi’s smile falters and he turns away from Hoseok quickly.
“Hyung,” Yoongi says, sounding exasperated. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a coffee here?”
“Me,” Hoseok says, before he even registers that he’s really speaking. His mouth clicks shut, and he swallows as the man’s eyes meet his. “I mean, coffee. I want coffee too,” Hoseok clarifies and makes sure his feet are firmly planted on the ground before he leans forward from his chair and stands up.
“Cool,” the man says, setting his things down by Seokjin’s. “I’m Yoongi.”
Hoseok bows and offers his hand. “Hi Yoongi-ssi,” he says. Yoongi’s grip is firm, and Hoseok feels a little silly, noticing how warm his hand is, but it’s too late; he’s noticed. “I’m Hoseok.”
“Ah,” Yoongi says, assessing Hoseok. Hoseok tries not to fidget. “Hyung is fine.”
At Hoseok’s raised eyebrow, Yoongi shrugs, then looks away. “So, coffee?”
Seokjin looks over Yoongi’s head, smirking at them both. “Well, go then!” he says, pushing them towards the door.
Hoseok turns to look back at Seokjin, bewildered, and he’s horrified when Seokjin winks.
“So you’re client servicing, right?” Yoongi asks, pressing the button for the elevator. “Seokjin-hyung mentioned you earlier.”
“Oh?” Hoseok tucks his phone into his pocket. “What’d he say?”
Yoongi eyes him, and Hoseok tries not to shiver under his gaze. “He said he liked working with you.”
Hoseok lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank god.”
Yoongi tilts his head. “What else could he have said?”
The elevator slides open, and the people inside make space for them. They don’t speak, and Hoseok takes a moment to send Namjoon a text.
Once in the lobby, Hoseok turns to Yoongi. “Do you have anywhere in mind? Or is the cafe across the street okay?”
“Any,” Yoongi says, looking around. Hoseok takes a deep breath, summoning all of his client-facing experience. He can’t explain why he wants Yoongi to like him. Well, he could if he wanted to, at least. Instead, he touches Yoongi’s elbow and steers him towards the door.
“So what made you move?”
Yoongi sighs, long-suffering. “Seokjin-hyung,” he says. They both look up and down the street before crossing. “We’ve been friends since university and we’ve kinda just... ended up in the same firms.” Yoongi holds the door to the cafe open for Hoseok. “He likes to joke that we’re a two for one deal.”
“Sounds fun,” Hoseok grins. “But Seokjin-hyung’s been here for a while.”
Yoongi shrugs. “Previous agency needed me to stay on for a project. You know how it is.”
“Sure,” Hoseok says easily. “So what’s your order?” He greets the cashier, making small talk as Yoongi looks over the menu.
“An iced americano for me,” Yoongi says, when there’s a lull in Hoseok’s conversation with the barista.
“Make it three,” Hoseok says, and he hands over his card. “On me, hyung.”
“Oh,” Yoongi colors slightly, and only now that Hoseok is so close to him does Hoseok notice how handsome he really is. “No, Hoseok-ah, let me—”
Hoseok blinks and realizes he was staring. “No, no,” he says, flustered. “Welcome to the company.”
Hoseok double checks his calendar. The room’s been booked for two hours, but he’s also supposed to meet Yoongi there for a new brief. Hoseok stands outside of the door, frowning down at his phone, and decides there must have been a mistake somewhere. He knocks on the door, just in case, and turns the knob when he doesn’t hear an answer.
Hoseok nearly steps back out as soon as he opens the door: Yoongi has his headphones on, and he’s mouthing along to whatever he’s listening to. It’s a surprising sight: he’s smiling, eyes closed. His voice is soft in the silence of the room. Hoseok only needs to hear a few words to recognize the song.
Before he can stop himself, Hoseok blurts out: “I love it when you call me Big Poppa.”
Yoongi’s eyes fly open, and Hoseok laughs at the flush that lights up Yoongi’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you knock?”
“I did!” Hoseok says defensively. “You were too busy vibing.”
Yoongi laughs at Hoseok like he can’t help it, and it’s different from how he laughs at Seokjin, or anyone else. Hoseok doesn’t want to think about why that matters to him so much, but it does.
Hoseok pauses, turns around from where he’s setting up his laptop, and tilts his head to assess Yoongi, who’s back to sporting his standard moue of displeasure at his general existence.
Hoseok bites back a grin, then clicks around his screen to flash his presentation.
Another meeting, and for the first time Yoongi is late. Hoseok checks his watch for the third time, and is about to send Yoongi a message when the door opens and Yoongi steps in, looking harassed.
“Sorry,” Yoongi says, setting his things down on the table. “Just—the train, and,” he holds up his coffee, as if it’s an explanation. “Disaster day.”
“It’s ten in the morning,” Hoseok says gently.
Yoongi sits down with a groan.
“Take your time.” Hoseok tries not to tap his foot. It’s a bad habit he’s been trying to shake. Instead he hands Yoongi the HDMI cord attached to the projector, and watches Yoongi click around his laptop.
“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbles again. He takes a big sip from his coffee and straightens up. “Okay, let’s boogie.”
Hoseok laughs, because who even says shit like that anymore. Yoongi looks up from his laptop, a small, pleased smirk on his face. Hoseok is sure Yoongi can’t tell, but his laugh takes on a different quality, after seeing Yoongi’s smile.
The cafeteria takes on a different quality in the afternoon; it’s quieter than usual, and when Hoseok comes in, the sunlight makes everything look golden. Hoseok smiles to himself before heading to the pantry at the end of the cafeteria. His head is deep in the cupboard as he roots around for his other reusable tumbler when he hears the microwave beep.
After a moment, Hoseok gives up and shuts the cabinet door with a sigh. He’s surprised to find Yoongi standing by the microwave, watching his tupperware spin inside. He looks good today, Hoseok thinks a little desperately. He looks good every day, but he looks particularly good in this kind of light, even if his usually crisp shirt is a bit rumpled.
“Hey,” Hoseok says, clearing his throat.
Yoongi nods at him in greeting, then raises a mug to his lips.
“Hey!” Hoseok snaps, pointing at him. “That’s my cup!” At least, he’s 70% sure it is: not many people had Snoopy-brand mugs hanging around.
Yoongi regards Hoseok for a moment, then scoffs. “Doesn’t have your name on it, does it?”
Hoseok splutters. “It does, actually, under the cup.”
Yoongi flushes, and Hoseok laughs. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s fine, hyung,” Hoseok says, still laughing. He turns to open the cupboard again. “I’ll just use yours to make my coffee, then.”
Yoongi seems to bite back a grin. “Or I could get you a coffee as sorry, instead.”
Hoseok feels himself blush, and takes a second to will it away before he closes the door. “That works, too.”
“Great,” Yoongi says, smiling.
Hoseok does his best not to feel bowled over by the sight. The microwave beeps, and Hoseok almost sighs with relief at the opportunity to change the topic. “Is that your lunch?”
“Yeah, the day’s been—”
“Disaster day,” Hoseok says, with a bit of a laugh.
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, looking charmed. Hoseok wants to puff up his chest and send an email blast to the whole company. Instead, he settles for getting a pair of chopsticks from the drawer by him and handing them to Yoongi. Yoongi smiles even wider at him then, and Hoseok swears he’ll put up a notice on the communal bulletin board later, or something. I made Min Yoongi smile five times while waiting for his lunch to heat up. What have you done with your life?
“Are you—” Yoongi starts, looking like he doesn’t really want to leave the pantry, either.
Hoseok startles, coming back to himself. “Oh, yeah, fuck, I have a meeting—” he says, already walking out. “Happy lunch!” he calls, and he looks back, just to check, and Yoongi’s still smiling.
After his meeting, Hoseok finds his Snoopy mug on his desk and a little scribbled note pinned under it.
Sorry again. Coffee on me next time.
“Namu,” Hoseok says, his voice cracking at the vowel. He clears his throat and calls Namjoon’s attention again.
“What?” Namjoon barks, looking up from his laptop. “We’re working on revisions.”
“No, it’s uh—” Hoseok gestures around a little wildly and throws his phone at Namjoon, who of course fails to catch it. Hoseok yelps, trying to scramble forward—
Taehyung holds Hoseok’s phone up, shocked.
“You should be on a talent show,” Hoseok says breathlessly.
Taehyung laughs and hands Namjoon Hoseok’s phone. Namjoon turns away, then looks up sharply to meet Hoseok’s gaze.
“Hob-ah,” he says, looking shocked.
“Why am I like this?” Hoseok wails, just as Namjoon asks, “Since when have you started flirting?”
“Who?” Jimin asks, perking up. He reaches across the table to try and swipe Hoseok’s phone from Namjoon’s hands, but Namjoon holds it above his head and away from Jimin’s reach easily.
“Hyung!” Jimin whines.
“I don’t know!” Hoseok screeches. “It just felt right? And he kept going along?” His head is full of alarm bells and question marks. Distantly, he can hear Yoongi’s voice: disaster day.
“Who?” Jimin demands, and he looks close to stomping around. Taehyung snickers and goes back to editing. Jungkook, oblivious to it all because of his noise-cancelling headphones, types away.
Hoseok’s phone dings with a notification, along with Namjoon’s laptop.
“We have a meeting,” Namjoon says, sliding out of his seat and handing Hoseok his phone. He taps on the desk to get Taehyung and Jungkook’s attention, and the stand as well.
“This isn’t over!” Jimin says, swiping his notebook off the desk haughtily and following Namjoon into a meeting room.
Hoseok takes a deep breath and sits down on Jimin’s chair. What the hell was that?
Thankfully, the message is from a client. Hoseok tamps down the worry and gets back to work, comforting himself with the thought that this is office politics, kind of. To the lowest degree, at least. He’ll get Yoongi morning coffees if it means he makes it to meetings on time, or as a preemptive apology because it’s planning season for most of his ongoing accounts. It just means that he needs Yoongi on his side. He’s just being friendly.
Yoongi’s just always bundled up, and Hoseok points it out one day. “It’s summer. Why are you wearing a cardigan?”
“I get cold,” Yoongi grumbles, frowning as he takes a sip of his iced coffee.
“Like a grandpa,” Hoseok teases.
“Yah,” Yoongi whines, frowning some more. It’s cute, the way he and Seokjin share similar verbal tics. “I’m old, I get cold easily, shut up.”
“Ajhussi,” Hoseok sing-songs. “Ajhussi is cold so let me lower the thermostat.”
Jimin, seated two tables from them, rolls his eyes. Beside him, Taehyung smirks. “Why don’t you just warm him yourself, hyung?”
At that, Hoseok and Yoongi freeze. Well—Hoseok freezes first, caught between standing up to adjust said thermostat, and Yoongi with the cup midway to his mouth.
Taehyung, the demon, giggles.
Hoseok laughs, loud and forced, and pushes himself off his chair to cross the room if only to hide his face. It’s stupid. Everyone keeps teasing them but it’s not like—it’s nothing. It’s nothing.
Hoseok spends entirely too long in front of the air conditioning control. He increases the temperature to a sensible 21 degrees. When he turns back to the table, Yoongi’s gone.
A meeting, probably.
Hoseok sits back at his desk and spends the next hour hyperfocusing on emails, and not thinking about anything else.
It’s the nature of their work that he and Yoongi don’t work together too often. Still, Hoseok can’t bring himself to drop the habit. Every morning, he still gets two iced coffees (sometimes three, if Namjoon deigns to come to the office early) and leaves a cup on Yoongi’s desk.
When Yoongi comes back from a regional pitch, he has a whole bag of snacks just for Hoseok.
“Just for Seok,” Yoongi says, glaring at the creative team. “I got you your own treats.”
Hoseok warms at the nickname. “I don’t mind sharing with them,” Hoseok says quietly, opening up the box.
Yoongi huffs. “It’s for you, Seok-ah,” he says.
Hoseok smiles up at him but finds him looking away, frowning down at the floor. “Ah, hyung,” Hoseok murmurs, feeling inexplicably shy.
“What?” Yoongi says, his tone matching Hoseok’s. “I mean, you get me coffee all the time and I wanted to say thank you—”
“Yoongichi!” Seokjin shouts from across the office. “You’re home!”
“Is he incapable of causing an incident?” Namjoon asks wryly, unwrapping a chocolate bar.
“Unfortunately not,” Yoongi sighs, and stays by Hoseok’s side as he waits for Seokjin to bowl him over.
It’s not by Hoseok’s design that he and Yoongi are the only ones still in the office. He’s still crunching numbers for a report, and Yoongi looks equally absorbed in his work.
Hoseok nibbles on the last of his snack supply from Yoongi, and he pushes a half-full bag of Cheeza at Yoongi.
“Thanks,” Yoongi says, taking the bag without looking up from his screen. For a while, the only sounds in the office are their individual keyboards clacking and the crunch of crackers. Then, Yoongi seems to realize how alone they are and he starts playing 90s hip hop.
The work seems a little more bearable, with music. And with Yoongi around too, of course. Hoseok smiles at Yoongi and is surprised to find that Yoongi’s already looking at him. Yoongi’s lips quirk up, then he looks away quickly, like he’s embarrassed.
They win two pitches in a row, and it’s as good an excuse as any to throw a party. In the span of an afternoon, the cafeteria is cleared out and liquor pours in. Office parties tend to be commensurate with the largeness of the client, and everyone keeps clapping him, Yoongi, and Seokjin on the back in congratulations.
“They even brought out the strobe lights,” Hoseok says, looking around. Beside him, Yoongi hums in response.
“See,” Yoongi says, holding a beer out to Hoseok before taking a drink from his own. “I knew you’d win.”
Hoseok accepts the beer gratefully, and tries not to fret over the fact that he hasn’t had anything to eat after lunch. “Congratulations to you too, hyung,” he says, then, almost an afterthought: “I should probably eat something.”
“Sure,” Yoongi says, pointing at a free table off to the side of the room. “Take a seat. Let me get some food.”
“Oh—” the rest of Hoseok’s sentence dies on his lips as Yoongi walks off.
“Cuuuute,” Jimin says, linking his arm with Hoseok’s and walking them towards the table. “So cute,” he says again to himself, sighing wistfully.
Hoseok groans. “You’re the worst sometimes, you know?”
“So Namjoon-hyung tells me,” Jimin grins. “So, updates on the Yoongi-hyung front?”
“None,” Hoseok says, picking at the label of his beer. “I like him, but… I don’t know, we’re just friends.”
“No plans of changing that?”
Hoseok smiles at Jimin ruefully. “Maybe not any time soon. What would that even look like, anyway? We’re always working late. It’s not like either of us have time to date.”
“Make time,” Jimin says, patting Hoseok’s hand.
Jimin sits up a little straighter at the sound of music. “Oh nice,” Jimin says, smiling at where Namjoon has set up his laptop.
The rest of the office seems to take notice, and by Namjoon, Jungkook chugs down his drink.
“Let’s get it!!!” Taehyung cheers, stuffing his mouth with what was left of his burrito before standing up and sweeping Jungkook to his feet.
Hoseok and Jimin laugh, and Jimin gives Hoseok one last hopeful look before getting up to join them.
“There they go,” Yoongi says, walking up to Hoseok. “And here you go,” he adds, setting a plate down.
“Thanks, hyung,” Hoseok says, and they share the plate of nachos.
At some point in the night Seokjin had joined them, plying him and Yoongi with drinks before eventually getting up to dance. Somehow, their table has become the pitstop, and Hoseok is a beer and two cocktails in before Taehyung drags him towards the dancefloor. “No mope-y hyung,” Taehyung says, shouting over the music.
Hoseok tries not to sag against him, feeling like standing up took the last of his energy. He hates this part about drinking, when the liquor settles over him like lead. Jungkook hands Hoseok a drink, and Hoseok takes it, hoping that against all odds this is the drink that actually makes him enjoy himself.
Hoseok loses himself after that. They keep drinking, and they all seem to have conveniently forgotten that Hoseok has a much, much lower tolerance than all of them.
Taehyung is sober, but he’s also Taehyung, and they’re a tangle of limbs and laughter, happy to have the weekend stretched out before them.
It feels good to dance, too; he hasn’t made enough time to do it. It’s such a sober thought, that Hoseok stills for a second, and then Jimin bumps his hip with his and gets him moving again, feeling the music course through his body.
Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut against the blare of the lights and looks around the room. The crowd hasn’t thinned much, but everyone else seems to be as drunk as him, which is a relief.
Namjoon is still DJ-ing, swaying his hips to the music as he drinks and chooses tracks. Seokjin is talking to somebody from the finance team, whispering in his ear, and Hoseok laughs at how flustered the man looks under Seokjin’s attention. He laughs some more when he sees Namjoon looking, a frown on his face.
He looks around the rest of the cafeteria and his gaze lands on their table. Yoongi’s still seated there.
Some unnamed, strong emotion drives Hoseok forward towards him.
“Aw, hyung,” Hoseok says, sidling up to Yoongi. “You’re still so grumpy! Come on, it’s a party.”
Yoongi glances at Hoseok impassively, then sips his whisky. “I’m smiling on the inside, Seok-ah.”
The nickname still sends a thrill through Hoseok, who’s already wired from the insane amount of alcohol in him.
“Gonna make you smile,” Hoseok drawls, swallowing down the rest of his beer. “Namu!” He calls, half standing from the seat. “Namjoon!”
Namjoon turns to him, eyebrow raised.
“Play me something sexy.”
“Oh my god,” Jimin says, pausing from dancing with Taehyung to turn around and stare at Hoseok.
“Holy fuck,” Jungkook echos, pushing himself off the table Namjoon was using as his DJ booth. “J-Hope is here.”
“J-Hope right here!” Hoseok cheers, and everything’s floaty and easy and tonight, tonight’s the night that he’ll get Yoongi to smile up at him, even if it kills him.
The memories come back to Hoseok in bits and pieces throughout the day. He tries not to think of it. Despite himself, he remembers the look on Yoongi’s face: his lips parted, a disbelieving smile on his face, eyes trained on Hoseok’s every move.
Hoseok’s making lunch when his phone vibrates with a notification.
Hoseok stares at his phone, and yelps when he smells the food begin to burn. He turns his phone screen-down on his table and finishes cooking. The memories come unbidden: burying his face against Yoongi’s chest, the both of them laughing, breathless with it. He remembers Yoongi running his hand through Hoseok’s hair, his mouth too close to Hoseok’s cheek.
Hoseok buries his face in his hands and groans before picking his phone back up.
Hoseok nearly stops in his tracks when he steps into the cafe. Yoongi’s already there, and he looks up at Hoseok, smiles a little, and waves Hoseok over.
“Hi,” Hoseok says, sitting down. He almost gets back up when he sees that Yoongi doesn’t have a coffee yet. “Sorry I’m late, let me—”
Yoongi catches Hoseok’s wrist and tugs on it, making Hoseok sit back down. “Seok-ah,” he says, his tone fond. “It’s coffee on a Saturday. It’s okay.”
“Okay,” Hoseok says, sitting back down. “So you want milk in your coffee today, then?”
Yoongi laughs, loud and exuberant, and relief floods through Hoseok’s veins so quickly that he can’t help but laugh, too.
“Sorry,” Hoseok says between hiccups of laughter. “I was just—it’s so embarrassing.”
Yoongi straightens up and frowns at Hoseok, confused. “Why? You’re a good dancer.”
“Hyung,” Hoseok groans, covering his face with his hands.
“What?” Yoongi laughs again. “You are! Did you want me to say it was a terrible dance?”
“I don’t know, oh my god,” Hoseok says, still hiding. He peeks between his fingers and Yoongi laughs at him again. He’s still laughing as he pulls Hoseok into a quick hug. “I said it already, right? Don’t worry about it.”
And just as quickly, Yoongi pulls away. Hoseok feels stunned in his wake, and he blinks at Yoongi, missing his warmth. He wants to ask: aren’t you worrying about it? Why shouldn’t I worry about it? Do you like me?
Instead, he takes a sip of water from one of the glasses in front of them.
And as if he’d sensed Hoseok’s thoughts, Yoongi curls his hand around Hoseok’s. Hoseok startles at his touch, and he glances up at Yoongi only to find him looking out the window, nonchalant in the afternoon sunlight.
Hoseok smiles, and just as Yoongi’s about to pull his hand away, Hoseok squeezes Yoongi’s palm and keeps their fingers laced.
They sit like that for a while. Yoongi doesn’t look at Hoseok, but he doesn’t need to. From here, Hoseok can see the smile on Yoongi’s lips. It’s more than enough.
“We should probably get some coffee,” Yoongi mumbles, finally looking at Hoseok. Hoseok bites back a grin now that he can see that Yoongi’s cheeks are pink.
“Yeah,” Hoseok says, catching himself. He licks his lips, and decides to be a bit braver: “I don’t really want to let go of your hand, though.”
Yoongi huffs out a laugh, and Hoseok’s delighted to see the blush on his cheeks deepen. “Aigoo, go get hyung a coffee.” He tugs his hand away to wave him off. “I’ll wait.”
Hoseok beams at Yoongi and stands. He’s two steps away from the table before he gives in to himself and turns back, patting Yoongi’s hand with his. Yoongi laughs and shakes his head, and Hoseok wants so badly to kiss him but there are around twenty other people in the cafe and he’s had enough exhibitionism for the next three years, so he doesn’t.
Everything about Hoseok has always been fast-paced. It’s just how he is. So it’s a surprise that being with Yoongi—whatever that means—isn’t freaking him out. Other times he would’ve jumped the gun and forced action; on principle, he makes things happen. He still gets Yoongi coffee every morning. He finds that he doesn’t expect anything, too. Something about Yoongi is reassuring, calming, and peaceful.
Hoseok didn’t realize he was looking for that until he met Yoongi.
Yoongi does small things for Hoseok too: brings packed lunch, or lazes around the office even though he’s done for the day but Hoseok’s still working. There are days when they both finish early and they get dinner together, or weekends when Hoseok has nothing to do so they watch a movie or go for a walk. It’s refreshing, just getting to know Yoongi.
They don’t really talk about it.
Hoseok finds that they don’t really need to. Sometimes, when Hoseok gets worked up over an unreasonable client, or a stressful presentation, Yoongi holds his hand and Hoseok appreciates the gesture immensely. Without saying a word, they say so much. It’s different, in the best possible way.
Then the Naver pitch shoots it all to hell.
It’s only been two days since Hoseok had received the brief and gotten the team together, but he’s already feeling murderous. It’s not anyone’s fault, in particular; there’s just too much to be done, and not enough time. Hoseok feels like he’s wearing a line into the carpet of the meeting room that he’d turned into their war room.
“Seok-ah,” Yoongi says from the couch.
Hoseok stops pacing, and turns to Yoongi with an inquisitive sound.
“C’mere,” Yoongi gestures towards the couch, and Hoseok takes a seat. “Breathe,” Yoongi instructs. He begins to rub soothing circles up on Hoseok’s back, and he lets his eyes slip closed.
The bubble of silence is popped when Seokjin opens the door. “—agree with you, I think the best way to—oh.”
Namjoon almost collides with Seokjin’s back and Yoongi’s hand stills on Hoseok’s arm.
“Well, we’re done smoking,” Namjoon says, nudging Seokjin forward. “If you guys want to go for a break we can put some of our ideas down on the slides.”
“No, we can stay,” Hoseok says, just as Yoongi stands and says, “I could go for a walk.”
Seokjin doesn’t even bother trying to hide his laugh. Namjoon looks like he’s on the verge of it, and Hoseok shoots him a look. Namjoon coughs into his fist and flips open his laptop.
Yoongi sighs and pats Hoseok’s shoulder. “Come on, Seok-ah. Let’s take a break.”
Every fiber of Hoseok’s being wants to say otherwise. Yoongi knows how much work still needs to be done, and Hoseok feels a little hysterical with it. Yoongi squeezes Hoseok’s shoulder, and Hoseok sighs and stands.
They’re silent as they make their way through the office, eerie at this time of night. Most of the lights are off, save for the ones illuminating the way to the lobby and the door.
“You need this break more than I do, Seok-ah,” Yoongi says, and Hoseok suppresses a shiver when Yoongi rests his hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the elevators.
“I know,” Hoseok admits, and his voice is much softer than he’d like.
Yoongi huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”
Hoseok sags against Yoongi, curling down to be able to rest his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Not really,” he says, his voice muffled against Yoongi’s jacket.
Yoongi hums in response. He wraps his arm around Hoseok’s waist, pulling him closer. He shifts a little, then he runs his hand through Hoseok’s hair.
Hoseok takes a deep, steadying breath.
Then he realizes how close they are. Not that this is anything new, really; they’ve hugged before, lots of times. It’s just—it feels different, somehow. The elevator lobby is silent, and the bulb above them buzzes with electricity.
Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s his heart beating fast against his chest, or if it’s Yoongi’s.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok whispers, turning his head a little. Yoongi notices the movement, then slips his hand out of Hoseok’s hair to cup his cheek. He turns Hoseok’s head to face him.
“Yeah?” Yoongi asks, sounding breathless.
Somehow, even in the weak light, Yoongi looks beautiful. Hoseok takes a moment to really look at him, the swoop of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lip. He’s never really done this before, but it warms him to know that he’s allowed to look at Yoongi like this, bare and exhausted and lit by fluorescent light.
Yoongi blinks at him, and Hoseok realizes Yoongi was doing the same thing: looking at him.
“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft, but Hoseok is close enough to hear him, to feel his breath.
“Yeah,” Hoseok says, and Yoongi slips his hand further down, his thumb pausing on Hoseok’s chin for the briefest moment before he tips Hoseok’s head up to kiss him.