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home is where the heart is

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“Wow,” Jin’s already talking as he walks out of his room, half the boys still asleep while the other three, Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook are scattered across the small common area with mugs and half eaten bagels littering the table, “It looks like Yoongi made his bed this morning!” 

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, the surprise forced and overdone, lips quirked into a knowing grin as he gives Yoongi a suggestive look. They all know what he means, but Namjoon still, uselessly, adds, “It’s only because he hasn’t slept there in months.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi mutters, and wonders if the thin, decorative pillow near his thighs would be enough to suffocate someone. He’s not sure if he would try it on himself or their leader. 

Jungkook only jumps in to tease his hyungs when he knows someone older will back him up, especially when it comes to Yoongi, and apparently this is one of the, unfortunately common, moments when he feels Jin and Namjoon will act as a safety net, “You’re not denying it, are you?” 

“I slept there on Tuesday,” Yoongi defends, kicking the decor towards their maknae with a scowl. 

“That was four days ago,” Jungkook sticks his tongue out in response to the weak attempt at a hit, holding up four fingers and waving them towards Yoongi. 

“Fuck off.” 


Yoongi shuffles down the short hall towards the kitchen far later than usual, and far later than the rest of his members. He finds five of them huddled around an object he can’t see and Jimin, alone, watching them nervously.

When he sees Yoongi, he raises his hands in the well known ‘surrender’ motion and promises, “I had nothing to do with it, it was all Hoseok hyung.” 

Hoseok, unaware of Yoongi’s presence, shifts out of the circle to give Jimin an incredulous look, “Of course you had nothing to do with it, idiot, you were asleep.” 

The way he moves, though it’s not much, opens up enough space for Yoongi to recognize the item they’re all so interested in - a cell phone. Specifically, Hobi’s. He’s not close enough to view the screen. Initially, he plans to slyly slide into their group and find out what’s so interesting, but, he doesn’t have to. Once Jungkook catches sight of him, his entire face lights up with a mischievous excitement and he pushes through the small crowd to show Yoongi himself. 

“Hyung showed us the cutest picture this morning,”  Jungkook coos, holding the phone out for Yoongi to see. Unsurprisingly, it’s of him. Him and Jimin. It was taken a few hours earlier, one of the many nights when Yoongi forsake his own bed in favor of Jimin’s. Jimin is at the edge of his mattress, body in a perfect line. One arm is flat against his side, the other at an awkward angle with his hand hidden in Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi is curled into a tight ball in the middle of bed, using Jimin’s abdomen as a pillow. 

Jimin watches apologetically while the other members burst into laughter at Yoongi’s expression - whatever it may be - and Yoongi reminds himself to tell Jimin it isn’t his fault, later, when the pack of fucking goons they live with aren’t there to hear. 

“It’s adorable,” Jin sighs, ruffling Yoongi’s hair, “What it must feel like to be young and in love.” 

Yoongi elbows him roughly in the rib cage, grabbing for the phone when Jin yelps and steps away. Easily, Jungkook lifts it out of his reach, dancing backwards with a loud giggle. 

“Delete it!” Yoongi demands, lunging towards the maknae. Namjoon steps in his way, laughing along with the rest of them.

“But, hyung, you look so precious.” 

“I’ll kill you, Kim Namjoon, I swear I will,” Yoongi threatens, but he’s met with more laughter instead of the intended fear. 

“We’re going to print it and frame it,” Taehyung decides, everyone but Yoongi and Jimin agreeing excitedly.

Yoongi sighs. He knows all he has to do to fix the constant teasing is sleep in his own bed, but, he’s not so willing to do that. Defeated, he mumbles, “I hate all of you.”

As usual, everyone just laughs at him.


Yoongi is sandwiched between Namjoon and Jin on the couch, the television volume turned high to drown out the sound of Jungkook screaming along to whatever shitty song he’s listening to in the bathroom, even though they’re not really watching. Namjoon and Yoongi are discussing lyrics, Jin playing a game on his phone and offering suggestions when he feels it’s needed. Jimin is in the kitchen, making some sort of weird protein powder shake mixed with a lot of green vegetables Yoongi can’t name that’s probably ridiculously healthy but smells like shit. 

Taehyung and Hoseok come scrambling out from their shared room, both giggling. Hobi throws himself over the side of the couch and tumbles into Jin while Taehyung bounces into the nearest chair. Yoongi attempts to ignore them, but he can feel them looking at him, in between sharing worrying looks with each other. 

“Man, it was so hard to sleep last night,” Hoseok starts, dramatically, turning down the television so everyone can hear. That’s when Yoongi knows he’s in for some kind of living hell. 

“You’re one to talk!” Taehyung’s speech sounds so rehearsed, Yoongi can’t believe they’ve taken to writing manuscripts just to make fun of him, “I’m the one who has to sleep above it!” 

“We don’t even make any noise,” Yoongi mumbles, irritated, but that was the worst thing to do. He should know better than to acknowledge them, especially when they haven’t explicitly brought up the fact that he tends to spend more time in their room than his own. 

“Really? I heard a lot last night, hyung,” Taehyung replies, shooting a look to Hoseok. On cue, he begins to make awkward, high pitched, forced moans, gyrating his hips as if they didn’t all already know what he was suggesting. 

“Yeah? Did you hear that in one of the pornos you two watch when you think we aren’t around?” Yoongi snarks back. They both flush red in embarrassment, but it only fuels their banter. 

“At least we’re not taking advantage of anyone,” Hoseok is joking. Yoongi can hear it, and he knows it's all in jest, and he knows that every single person in the room understands that it’s not what’s going on, but he cannot fucking take it anymore. 

Yoongi stands with shocking speed and no grace.

“Jesus christ,” Yoongi isn’t yelling, but his voice is loud enough to alert Jimin and Jungkook. The singing ends, and the blender cuts off. He hears the bathroom door creak open and Jimin leans out of the kitchen, ready to ask what’s going on. 

“We aren’t fucking,” Yoongi continues, angrily, starting towards the hall as he speaks, “If it’s such a goddamn problem, I’ll sleep in my own fucking bed!” 

He makes it to the opening of the hall just as he finishes shouting, and two seconds later all six members hear a door slamming in their silence. 

Jimin watches the four boys in the room wear matching shocking expression, and sees Jungkook peer fearfully around the corner at them. All five of them look to him, searching for an answer, and Jimin just shakes his head in disappointment. 

“You guys are a bunch of assholes, you know that?” Jimin scolds, and coming from him, it’s somehow worse than anything Yoongi could’ve screamed at them. 


“Jimin, what do we do?” Hoseok, horrified, whispers the question as they stretch in front of the muted television, preparing for a morning run. 

Yoongi moves like a zombie through the kitchen, dark bags staining the skin beneath his eyes as he reaches mechanically for the nearly empty coffee pot. They already watched him deposit three mugs that Hoseok distinctly remembers washing the night before, meaning he’d used them in the eight hours the rest of them had been sleeping.

“Maybe you guys should have left him alone,” Jimin mumbles back, ignoring honorifics in his annoyance. He hasn’t been doing it all the time, but whenever one of his hyungs starts to ask him about how to ‘fix Yoongi’, he can’t help but be quietly furious. It’s their fault he’s exhausted. They shouldn’t have teased him so harshly about wanting to sleep in Jimin’s bed. 

“Everyone teases everyone,” Hoseok defends, but there’s a clear guilt in his voice, “we didn’t realize it’d be like this.” 

“Did you guys never think to ask why Yoongi hated sleeping in his own bed so much?” 

Hoseok pouts, a little, because he knows that Jimin is right, “No.”

“He’s bad at sleeping on his own,” Jimin explains. There’s more to the story, a lot more, but it’s one that Jimin was told in extreme confidence and he’s not going to betray Yoongi. It’s not his to tell, “He can only sleep when he’s with someone else. I was the one he was comfortable asking.”

The final statement is mostly a lie. Jimin’s sure it’s part of it, especially considering recent events. The members had always found him the best to confide in. He’d known it before they announced it during a fan meeting, each of them coming to him in their own time to whisper painful secrets. Yoongi, in particular, sought him out semi-regularly for comfort. Even before they began sleeping - just sleeping - together. 

But, really, Yoongi never told him exactly why. Jimin thought about it, kind of all the time, but he was always a little too worried to ask for the real reason. Though he could, easily, sleep on his own, he always felt a little more rested when he woke up, limbs tangled up with Yoongi’s and his head tucked against the older boy’s chest, or with Yoongi wrapped around him like a blanket. Yoongi needed it, Jimin just wanted it. 

“We didn’t realize,” Hoseok sounds a little like he’s pleading, maybe like he’s asking for forgiveness, “we were always just messing with him. It’s not a big deal.” 

“You should tell him that, not me.” 


They could only bear to watch Yoongi wander around like a dead man for nine days. As soon as the conversation between Hoseok and Jimin ends, Hoseok gathers all the other members, sans Yoongi, to relay Jimin’s information and form a sort-of truce. 

They agree to keep teasing to a minimum, despite Jimin’s quiet suggestion that it cease entirely. Still, it’s better than nothing, and the conversation ends with Namjoon approaching the exhausted boy to tell him that they would stop bothering him so much about his sleeping choices, that they wouldn’t tease him for choosing to stay with Jimin.

“Thank god,” Yoongi mumbles, dropping his half-filled mug of coffee carelessly into the sink and stumbling, after a vague wave in Jimin’s direction, into Jimin’s room. Taking the hint, Jimin cancels his run with Hobi and follows his sleepy hyung.

Jimin thinks he might have slept a little, somewhere throughout the nine hour nap Yoongi clings to him to take, but for the most part he just toys with his phone and traces slow circles onto the skin of Yoongi’s lower back. 

Yoongi wakes, eventually, with a soft apology for keeping Jimin hostage for so long. Contrary to his words, he doesn’t try to move, his head a comforting weight on Jimin’s chest, hands warm where they’re splayed near his collarbone. 

“Why is it always me?” Jimin asks, unable to stop himself.

Even though he’s groggy, his mind still cloudy after a week of sleep deprivation and a long, needed rest, Yoongi seems to understand.

“You feel like home.”