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Yoongi slammed his fifth bottle of beer down on the kitchen table as if he were in a bar. Hell, he wished he were in a bar; that way he could drink himself unconscious and wake up in a stranger’s bed the next morning. In Yoongi’s opinion, a better life than the one he was currently leading.

Because Hoseok was an idiot. He was an idiot with a smile too large and a laugh too loud and a personality too bright. Yoongi hated bright things. And yet somehow he had ended up liking Hoseok.

A lot.

It was probably his sophomore year of college when he noticed it, how he would watch a comedy and think, ‘Hoseok would have laughed at that’, or eat at a restaurant and wonder, ‘What would Hoseok order if he were here?’ So there was always the guilty, nagging notion in the back of his skull that he wanted Hoseok.

Yoongi never said anything. He liked being Hoseok’s friend, liked living with him and Jin, but Yoongi was selfish. As much as he loved Jin, sometimes he wished it was just him and Hoseok, living as a couple rather than as friends. That being said, Yoongi was never one for relationships. He always screwed everything up. Fortunately, Hoseok was never one for relationships, either. He just wanted to be friends with everyone, oblivious to any feelings beyond that. Yoongi doubted he’d ever had a crush before. So Yoongi kept living with his inner demons, alongside a man who had no romantic bone in his body.

Until he suddenly did.

When Hoseok just left one day, a Wednesday night if Yoongi recalled, smiling wider than ever, proudly proclaiming that he had ‘a hot date.’ A date. And then he went out the door before Jin could give him advice or congratulations and before Yoongi could decide if he should seriously be heartbroken or if Hoseok was joking.

But it was true. Hoseok had taken all 22 years of dismissed romantic feelings and spent them on one person: a student in his dance class, Kim Taehyung. The way Hoseok said it, Taehyung, so breathlessly, made Yoongi’s stomach turn over. He tried not to believe it. Neither Jin nor Yoongi had ever seen Kim Taehyung, and it was such a sudden declaration that Hoseok was probably pulling a prank.

Yoongi drank anyway, until Jin finally intervened and snatched the seventh half-empty bottle. At least he’d been able to get drunk. Jin didn’t get it. He didn’t have anyone he liked, didn’t have anyone he’d lost to someone else. So when Jin dangled the bottle in his face and said, “Yoongi, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but this is unhealthy and you need to sto—” Yoongi let his drunkenness take over and he punched Jin squarely in the jaw. Of course Jin didn’t deserve it. But Yoongi needed to punch someone and Jin was right there.

When Hoseok got home, too many hours later, he couldn’t shut up. “You guys need to meet him,” “Taehyung is so funny and I think he really likes me,” “Oh, I just got a text! It’s from Taehyung—he said he had a good time! Aw, he’s so cute,” and he didn’t even notice the dark patch on Jin’s jaw or the empty look in Yoongi’s eyes.

He eventually accepted that Hoseok wasn’t making it up. If he was, Hoseok should abandon his dancing career for acting. That didn’t mean he accepted the relationship, however. But then another thought came to Yoongi’s mind: “Do you think it will last?” he asked one day when it was just him and Jin, “With Hoseok, I mean.”

Jin smiled, “I picked Hoseok up from the dance studio one day, and it didn’t take me long to figure out which one was Taehyung. He wouldn’t let go of that boy’s hand. So yes, I think it will last. On Hoseok’s part at least; I can’t speak for Taehyung.”

“Well, that’s…” Yoongi stared blankly at his laptop screen, “That’s good.”

But he didn’t think it was good.

 


 

 

A year later, an entire year, there was a new schedule in place. Fridays were “Date Night”. On Wednesdays, Hoseok would take Jin’s car and pick Kim Taehyung up from college. That made it sound bad, Yoongi thought. Hoseok was involved with his student, who was still in college when Hoseok had graduated a year ago.

He never brought Kim Taehyung home. Hoseok always insisted, “Both of you would love him, I swear,” but he had still never seen the kid. It was just something that was there, in the background. Yoongi would be watching Hoseok play some video game, not even thinking about Kim Taehyung, and then Hoseok would say, “I really like this game! Tae recommended it to me, though, so of course it’s good!” and he would remember that Kim Taehyung actually existed.

And then they decided to move. Not far, unfortunately (Yoongi had suggested they move to Daegu but Jin and Hoseok were having none of that), just to a different location in Seoul right in between his room-mate’s work places. They’d chosen an apartment complex that was inexpensive but still nice and comfortable, far better than the last small building they’d rented since junior year.

The only problem Yoongi had with the place was the landlord, Mr. Park. He was a bit of a weird guy. Upon meeting him for the first time, Mr. Park had said, “If you three need anything, don’t hesitate to come down here and get my good-for-nothing son to do it for you. Put him to work.” It was unfortunate that they shared a fire escape. He seemed like a grouchy man in general, knocking on their door twice in the first week because Hoseok was screaming. When was Hoseok not screaming?

At the end of the first month, someone knocked on the door in a less threatening way. Yoongi was the only one there at the time, so he had intended on playing it cool and acting like nobody was home, but the guest seemed persistent. So Yoongi peeled himself off of the sofa, put on the nearest T-shirt lying on the floor, and trudged over to the door.

The boy was in mid-knock when he answered. “Oh! Sorry,” The kid let out a laugh, “I was starting to think no one was home,” That was the intention, yes. Who was this guy? He looked young, like really young, and short (not that Yoongi was one to talk) with bright orange hair. Hoseok probably liked orange. Was this Kim Taehyung? “I’m Park Jimin, the landlord’s son—,” Ah, the infamous good-for-nothing son, “—and I really hate to do this, but my dad sent me up here,” Get on with it, “Um, you didn’t pay your rent this month?” Fuck. That was Yoongi’s job. He’d completely forgotten. “Since this is your first month here, we can give you a few more days, but,” he lowered his voice, “my dad doesn’t really like it when people pay their rent late, so please get that in.”

Why was Jin not there? Of all days, too. It was the perfect situation for Jin to deal with, and possibly the worst for Yoongi. He acted relaxed anyway, “It’s cool. I’ll bring it down tomorrow,” What would Jin do? Probably something cheesy like invite him in for a home-baked cookie or some shit, but Yoongi was not that nice. So he said, “See ya, kid.” and shut the door. Perfect.

Jin came home from work an hour later, and the first thing he said was, “By the way, Yoongi, did you pay the rent this month? I forgot to ask.”

Yoongi didn’t even flinch and kept typing, “Of course.”

 


 

 

Two weeks later, he saw Park Jimin for the second time.

It was the same—he was sitting in “laptop position” on the sofa, shirtless, typing up a draft for a possible novel, when there was a knock on the door. But this time, Yoongi actually got up after the first knock. He put on a shirt—it was probably Hoseok’s but he didn’t care—and was once again greeted by Jimin’s smiling face.

The kid blinked. Was something wrong? Was Yoongi not wearing pants? “What is it, kid?”

“Oh, uh,” Yoongi took Jimin’s slight distraction to look down and confirm that he was, indeed, wearing pants, “It’s just that, my dad said three people lived here? Or is it just you?”

Nosy kid. “Nah, I have two room-mates. I’m just the only one that works from home.”

That seemed to satisfy Jimin, “What do you do?” Damn, this guy was relentless. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.” At least he was polite.

“It’s fine. I’m a novelist. I write.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “Wow, what kind of books do you write?”

Yoongi let out a laugh and looked past Jimin to see if there was anyone else in the hallway. There wasn’t. “Honestly?” Jimin nodded. Fine, if that’s what the kid wants, “Gay ones.”

The boy didn’t know how to respond. That’s what you get for asking so many fucking questions. After a pause, he let out an, “…Oh.”

“So why are you here?”

“I’m sorry?”

Yoongi sighed. “Why did you come here? Are you a door-to-door salesman now or something? A Jehovah’s witness?”

Jimin seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “Oh! I have to tell you that we’re getting the boiler fixed from 7:00 A.M. to around 11:00—No! I mean, 10:00 tomorrow. 10 A.M., not P.M. So there won’t be any hot water.”

It wasn’t like Yoongi woke up until two anyway. “Thanks,” Yoongi looked at the innocent kid in front of him, a kid who had probably never watched porn in his life, and who had just found out there was a gay erotica writer living in his dad’s apartment building. He decided to have some fun. “Maybe I’ll have to take a cold shower tomorrow, instead, yeah?” He winked at Jimin and moved to shut the door, “See ya, kid.”

 


 

 

Yoongi hated the days when he met with his editor. It meant he had to actually wake up on time, as early as Jin, get dressed in clothes that weren’t completely trashy, and drag himself to his editor’s hipster café of choice.

The meetings usually lasted around three hours, his editor being an obsessive prick who hardly glanced over the sex scenes because “I don’t need to think about that; I’m sure it’s fine.” The publishing company Yoongi was signed under was hardly a large one, but it paid the bills (his largest demographic was teenage girls; apparently they had a lot of money) and Yoongi got to do what he loved every day. Just sometimes, he didn’t love his editor.

He got home that afternoon to all the lights being out and the TV running. Hoseok liked to relax on days he wasn’t teaching, but would it kill him to turn off the TV? I don’t want that kid knocking on my door again when we can’t pay the electric bill. Yoongi went to shut it off himself, only to find Hoseok lying on the couch sleeping. With a stranger on top of him.

Their legs were curled together, the strange boy’s face buried in Hoseok’s neck, Hoseok with a small smile and his arms around the boy’s waist. This. This had to be Kim Taehyung. They looked so… comfortable. Perhaps Taehyung didn’t know, but Yoongi and Jin were both painfully aware of Hoseok’s insomnia. To see him sleeping so easily, with a smile on his face, was remarkable. The two were good together, Yoongi thought. He could never picture himself snuggled up to Hoseok like that, even though he’d tried so many times.

Taehyung (Yoongi really hoped this was Taehyung, otherwise Hoseok was a dick) shifted in his sleep so that he was almost breathing into Hoseok’s ear. Yoongi didn’t want either of them to wake up and see him there, just watching, but he didn’t know where else to go. He couldn’t go to his room because he shared a room with Hoseok and if the two decided to have sex after they woke up, Yoongi would end up doing something stupid. He couldn’t go into the hallway because when Taehyung left, Yoongi would just be sitting there and it would be awkward. So he grabbed his laptop and went out onto the fire escape.

Yoongi wrote on the fire escape whenever he wanted fresh air, which admittedly wasn’t often. When the sun was shining, he made a point to stay inside. That day, it looked as if it were about to rain. He’d just gotten situated when he heard a rough voice call, “Hey, how’s the room treating you?” Yoongi looked down the stairs, startled. Damn. It was the landlord.

“The room is perfect, sir, we haven’t had any problems.” Yoongi could be nice when he needed to be.

“Then why are you sitting out here in this weather? Get kicked out? Imagine getting kicked out of your own place, geez.” So many questions. He saw where Jimin got it from.

“No, sir, my room-mate is just sleeping. I didn’t want to bother him, so I came out here.”

Mr. Park threw his hands in the air. “You know who’s sleeping right now? My lazy ass of a son!” Yoongi had never thought about having kids, but he was sure he would never talk about his own child like that. “All he does is sleep! And when he’s awake, he’s always stuffing his face or singing. I can’t get that kid to shut up! He’s not even a good singer. Lazy brat.”

Yoongi sighed. Jin always acted like the therapist, but sometimes Yoongi had to fix everyone’s shit, too. “Your son’s name is Jimin, right? Does Jimin like singing?”

Mr. Park laughed, “How the hell am I supposed to know? I bet he does, since he never stops doing it.”

“Then let him sing, I’m sure he’s fine.” And Yoongi returned to his work.

 


 

 

For Yoongi, inspiration did not come spontaneously, or in a dream, or any other insane place authors are known to get ideas from. Yoongi liked his stories to be realistic. He wanted his readers to feel exposed, as if anything could happen to them at any moment, because it was real. So what better place to get inspired by than real life? Not his life, of course, but the lives of those around him. And since Yoongi rarely went outside and Jin had no life problems since maybe third grade, “those around him” referred to Hoseok.

That was why he always carried around the notebook. Since high school, he’d filled up at least three notebooks with possible story ideas. Before, however, the plotlines had just been observations; when Yoongi went out for a walk and saw a good-looking couple, or an odd pair in university that everyone seemed to know about. He loved imagining the different connections between strangers or classmates. And then, with the birth of Hoseok’s relationship, came also the birth of Subject A:

 

-Dance instructor falls in love w/ student

-Private lessons lead to sex

            -Scandal??

-They start dating, drama happens (make this part up, Subject A has no drama b/c he’s a  loser)

-Lots of dance innuendos (ask Subject A about dance terms w/o making it obvious)

-Dance instructor is a huge fucking baby

            -Probably scared of dark during sex

 

It was a way for Yoongi to vent, to turn his thoughts and feelings into something substantial, something written. He’d always been better at writing than thinking. Yoongi did feel guilty about basically mocking his friend’s love life, but he had to come to terms with the whole situation in order to move past his own emotions.

He’d started writing it when he pieced together that the red patch leading under the collar of Hoseok’s shirt definitely wasn’t from him “bumping into the medicine cabinet. With my neck.” The implications of ‘scandal’ and ‘drama’, although they would stray away from the realism Yoongi strived for, would create a plotline closer to the reality Yoongi wanted. One where Hoseok’s relationship wasn’t so perfect, one where Kim Taehyung was replaceable.

Yoongi was really planning to write something based off of it, too. But every time he saw Hoseok texting with a smile on his face, or how he would wake Hoseok up from a nap only to hear the younger man whisper ‘Tae?’ he couldn’t do it. So Subject A’s plotline stayed in Yoongi’s notebook, and never went anywhere else.

 


 

 

The third time he met Park Jimin was a month and a half later. Yoongi was sitting at the kitchen table eating pizza (When Jin didn’t prepare food ahead of time, Yoongi resorted to drastic measures) in his pajamas when there was a knock on the door. It was starting to feel like déjà vu.

Who else could possibly be outside the door besides Park Jimin? “Hi,” the boy greeted, “Um, I just wanted to let you know that there’s going to be roofing construction done over the next two to three days, so if you hear any banging noises, it’s probably that.”

This precious kid was falling right into Yoongi’s filthy hands. “Or it could just be my room-mate, if it’s a Friday night,” He delighted in the way Jimin’s round cheeks turned red. “I’m kidding, of course.” Jimin shifted his weight, looking like he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Yoongi decided to follow the more Jin-like path for once, to put the poor boy out of his misery and also because there was no way he could eat a whole pizza (although Jin probably could). “Do you want to come in or something? I’ve got pizza and I’m not going to eat and entire fucking pizza, you know?”

He didn’t expect Jimin to actually come in. There where clothes all over the floor, dishes in the sink, and music coming from some room that Yoongi hadn’t even noticed. Oh well, if the apartment was a mess, Jimin’s father was the one who owned it. Yoongi put two slices on a plate for Jimin (anyone who said Yoongi was mean was a complete liar; he gave Jimin the two cheesiest pieces there were) and asked, “Do you like pizza?”

Jimin nodded, and they ate in silence for a good three minutes, during which Yoongi discovered that Jimin could really put it away. Then he heard a quiet, “How did you know?”

Yoongi swallowed his bite. He probably had tomato sauce all around his mouth. “What, about the pizza? Everyone likes pizza. Unless you’re gluten-free or some shit, but I’m not fucking weak like that.”

“No,” Jimin started. He looked directly at Yoongi, “I mean, how did you know, well, that you were… gay?”

Oh. That. Way to drop a fucking bomb. Yoongi decided to mess with Jimin some more. “And what, Park Jimin, makes you think I’m gay?”

Jimin’s face dropped a meter in one second. “Well, you said, you told me you write books that are gay, right?”

Yoongi took a rather aggressive bite of pizza and shook his head condescendingly. “Was Shakespeare straight? No. How much of Romeo and Juliet was gay? None of it.” Yoongi had never read Romeo and Juliet. He mentally thanked Jin for his random literature facts. He wiped his mouth and continued, “So I could be a very straight man targeting a very specific audience.”

Jimin coughed. “So, you’re not? Not gay?”

“I was teasing, Jimin,” Yoongi shot him a smile, “I’m a flaming homosexual.”

The boy almost choked on his pizza. “Oh,” Then after a moment, “But how did you find out?”

His answer came immediately: “Lots of practice.” It was Yoongi’s turn to ask a question. “Why? Do you think you’re gay but don’t know for sure?”

Jimin was definitely going to end up choking, which was unfortunate because Yoongi didn’t know CPR. “I mean, I—” To his credit, maybe Yoongi had been a bit blunt, “That’s kind of—”

“—Hey, it’s fine. Who am I to judge, right? Just get one of your friends to kiss you or something.” It was probably bad advice, but Yoongi wasn’t one to give advice in the first place so at least he was trying. “How old are you, anyway?”

He looked down at his plate, “Twenty.”

No fucking way. “Then you’ll be all sorted out in no time.” Which was untrue; Yoongi wasn’t even sorted out and was sure he wouldn’t be for the rest of his life.

Jimin decided to leave after all the pizza was gone. What a high-maintenance kid, to eat more than half of someone else’s large pizza and then just leave after a thank-you.

When Hoseok got home an hour later and whined about how Yoongi had saved no pizza for him, Yoongi simply said that he’d been hungry and went to sleep.

 


 

 

“Do you know Park Jimin?” Jin asked as he rifled through the newly-formed mountain of groceries.

Yoongi stopped in his tracks. “Sure. He just stops by sometimes to give me a heads up if there’s a power outage or something like that. I don’t really know him, though,” He tried to ask as casually as possible, “Why, when did you meet him?”

Jin smiled, “Just twenty minutes ago. He had no idea who I was and double-checked our apartment number three times before he asked if I was ‘one of the room-mates’. I told him you were out buying groceries. And that’s funny that you don’t really know him, because he told me to thank you for the pizza.”

He definitely heard the Shit that Yoongi let out under his breath. “Fuck you, Jin, I might have given him some pizza at some point. How am I supposed to remember anything in this economy?” Jin had just caught Min Yoongi being nice to another human being. How embarrassing.

The librarian laughed and said, “I won’t tell Hoseok.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

 


 

 

It was such a peaceful afternoon. There was no one to bother him, no extreme weather, none of the stupid roofing construction that had indeed kept Yoongi awake for three days—just a writer and his laptop, on the fire escape.

Yoongi, however, had tragically forgotten that his fire escape was coincidentally the Park’s fire escape as well. And the peaceful day was coincidentally the day when Park Jimin was watering flowers on his landing. Yoongi was intent on continuing work, but a certain red-headed kid had other plans.

“Min Yoongi!” Yoongi swore he developed a headache in five seconds.

“What do you want.” He closed his laptop. Yoongi did not need Jimin reading sex scenes over his shoulder at two in the afternoon. “And how do you know my name?”

Jimin climbed the stairs with a bit too much enthusiasm for Yoongi’s tastes. He hadn’t even invited the kid up to his level. “My dad’s the landlord; I know everyone’s name.”

“Yeah, except for Kim Seokjin, apparently.”

The boy sat down next to Yoongi and tilted his head. Yoongi thought he looked like a puppy. And acted like one. “Who’s that?”

Yoongi sighed. “Never mind.” There was a microscopic fraction of Yoongi’s heart that was soft for Jimin. He’d known if from the moment he offered Jimin pizza. Yoongi didn’t know why, but the kid could never make him angry; he was annoying, yes, but not in a bad way. Not at all.  He took a shot at asking Jimin a forward question so he would go back to his flowers and leave Yoongi alone. “So how did your journey of self-discovery go?”

Jimin’s smile dropped and he began coughing profusely. “Um.” Mission accomplished. “I don’t exactly have many friends.”

Well damn. He was going to make Yoongi do everything, wasn’t he? “What, do you want me to do it?” Yoongi loved teasing him. He smirked at the hint of panic in Jimin’s eyes and got closer to the poor kid. “I could. It’s just a kiss. No strings attached.”

He was sure that to Jimin, it wouldn’t be ‘just a kiss’. Jimin let out a nervous laugh. “Would you seriously?”

Yoongi didn’t want to kiss him. He hardly knew Jimin. But he did want to kiss someone; it had been far too long for Yoongi, after getting hung up on Hoseok for the past year or so. And he was in a generous mood. So he said, “Well I’m not going to kiss you on the fire escape.” and stood up to slide the door open for him and Jimin.

Jimin followed him blindly into the apartment, apparently okay with the whole situation. So Yoongi pushed his back against the fire escape door, hands around Jimin’s wrists, and leaned in to just get it over with. But Jimin was having none of that. “Wait,” Yoongi stopped centimeters away from Jimin’s mouth. “Are you with someone?”

“Me?” Yoongi laughed and slid his hand up Jimin’s arm. “No.” That seemed to satisfy Jimin, so Yoongi took it upon himself to close the distance between them.

Jimin’s lips were warm against his own. Yoongi had almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone so close, to taste someone and feel their breath against his cheek. The boy relaxed after a few moments and gained a confidence Yoongi had never sensed in their fleeting conversations. He had to hand it to Jimin; the kid had some skills. He’d obviously kissed a few girls in the past. But Yoongi wanted to make sure that his first kiss with a man was memorable. And indeed it was. Soon Jimin’s tongue was running along Yoongi’s teeth and the writer’s fingers were pressed into the firm skin underneath his neighbor’s shirt. He broke the kiss only after he felt the vibrations of a dangerous, breathy noise on Jimin’s part.

“So how was it? Different? You good?” Yoongi never made sense when he was distracted. He tried to put some distance between their faces, but there must have been something messed up with the gravity in Yoongi’s apartment because he kept subconsciously floating closer to Jimin’s red mouth.

Jimin nodded slowly, his eyes wide. “Actually. I have no idea.” Ah, so we’re back to perpetually flustered Jimin now.

Yoongi smirked and tried to smooth out his hair, which Jimin had certainly ruined. “Hey, it’s fine. Now get out; I have to work.” He winked at Jimin and slid the door open. “If you need any more assistance, my office hours are from 1 to 6 P.M.”

The kid smacked Yoongi on the arm and made to leave, but then looked as if an important thought had just came to him. “Wait, you said you aren’t with anyone. But do you have someone you’re interested in?”

He’d seen right through Yoongi. “Maybe. Yes. But it will never happen. I generally like to avoid clichés, but it’s complicated.”

Jimin smiled sadly at him and was halfway down the fire escape before Yoongi knew. “Oh. Well, have fun writing!”

“Sure. See ya, kid.”

 


 

 

There were few things Min Yoongi hated more in the word than surprises. As someone who wanted to know what was going on at all times, he cherished the predictable. Unfortunately, Hoseok was on the opposite end of the spectrum. Which was exactly why he brought Kim Taehyung into their apartment with no warning.

Yoongi had been in sweats and a worn tee-shirt, sleeping on the couch waiting for Jin to finish making food when he woke up because of a loud, “I’m home!” followed by the slam of a door. He groaned out a tired ‘Be quiet’ just as Hoseok said, “And I have a guest!”

He saw Jin whip around from his spot at the stove and smile warmly. “Hoseok, I never thought I’d see the day. Now I have to ask, is this Taehyung?”

Of course it was. Of course. The boy who Yoongi had found curled up with Hoseok on the sofa was the same one standing in his flat, nodding and staring at Hoseok as if he were everything in the world. “It’s nice to meet you!” His voice was deeper than Yoongi had imagined.

Yoongi wanted to go back to sleep. But Hoseok’s face was so bright that he got up anyway. Besides, he wanted to eat dinner. He didn’t know what to say to Taehyung; a year ago, he hadn’t even believed the boy was real. Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything at all. Taehyung gave him a lively handshake and said, “You must be Yoongi. Hoseok has told me so much about you guys!” Yoongi couldn’t do anything but shake his hand back.

Fuck Kim Taehyung. Yoongi tried to hate him, he really did. But it was no use; he had liked Taehyung immediately. The boy knew exactly which buttons to press to dissolve Hoseok into a fit of laughter, and had figured out within ten minutes how to make friends with both Jin and Yoongi. He fit right into their apartment, as if he’d known them for years.

They were the perfect couple. The way Taehyung thoroughly wrecked Jin at Mario Kart and celebrated by smacking a loud kiss to Hoseok’s cheek; The way he didn’t even flinch when Hoseok rested his hand on Taehyung’s thigh; The way Taehyung wanted a sip of Hoseok’s drink and was met with no objections—it was all perfect.

Jin seemed to be loving every moment (yes, even when he was showed up at video games). He practically squealed every time Taehyung blushed or caught Hoseok staring. Taehyung went to the bathroom at one point, and Jin used his absence as a chance to say, “He is so perfect for you! How did you ever land a guy like him?”

When Yoongi caught them kissing while Hoseok was supposed to be washing dishes, it looked so normal. “You two aren’t slick, you know.” Hoseok jumped three feet in the air and vigorously started scrubbing the nearest dish when he heard Yoongi, but Taehyung just laughed out an apology and latched onto Hoseok’s arm.

It didn’t hurt Yoongi’s heart as much as he thought it would.

 


 

 

“Maintenance check!”

Yoongi mentally cursed. The room was a mess. He did whatever he wanted all day, and cleaned it up before Jin got home. Apparently that habit was not going to work for him any longer. And he knew who that voice belonged to. Yoongi quickly kicked as many dirty clothes as he could see into some corner, shoved the remnants of breakfast back into the fridge, and opened the door.

“Isn’t your dad supposed to do this or something?” Halfway through the sentence, Yoongi remembered the last time he’d seen Jimin, nearly two weeks ago. He’d tried to forget their kiss since then, but the memory resurfaced as soon as the kid’s stupid face came into view.

Jimin walked inside without being invited. Rude. “He’s lazy,” Jimin took a quick look around the flat, then decided to tackle the kitchen. “But don’t tell him I said that.” Yoongi watched, on-edge, as Jimin inspected the apartment. Knowing Yoongi’s luck, he would probably find a dead animal or something.

He gave Yoongi a disappointed look upon opening the door to his and Hoseok’s room, but sighed out a, “Well, at least nothing’s broken,” and went back to work. Yoongi didn’t know what to do besides follow him around and clog up every doorway, just watching Jimin survey from floorboard to ceiling. He was wearing a tank top. His arms looked nice. From an artistic standpoint.

After about ten minutes of Yoongi making excuses as to why everything was a mess, Jimin decided their room was up to code. “You’re lucky it was me and not my dad; he’d kill me for passing you when the place is this messy.”

Yoongi shrugged. “I clean it up before my room-mates get home. They’re both cleaner than me.” He checked the time, “It’s like 2:30—I’ve got time.”

“2:30,” Jimin mused, “That’s within your office hours, right?”

Oh no. Yoongi was not about to play this game. Looks like someone’s not as innocent as he seems. He appreciated Jimin’s forwardness and integrity, but Yoongi didn’t think he was low enough to get roped in with the landlord’s son. Yoongi liked a bit of a gamble, but not that much. “Woah, kid, I was just joking earlier. You’re entering dangerous territory, you know that?”

“I have a proposition.” Then again, he might as well hear Jimin out. “We do whatever we want. You can get past your crush. I can get more… practice. No strings attached, remember?”

Yoongi weighted his options carefully. He liked Jimin; not romantically, but he was a good guy who Yoongi actually didn’t mind being around. Plus, he was a little bit attractive. They were both human—they had their wants, needs, and had to find a way to take care of it all. If they played their cards right, what could go wrong? “I have to admit, your logic is flawless. Except for the part where I end up homeless and your dad exiles you from Korea.”

Surprisingly, the boy looked hopeful. “So you’re in?”

They were both idiots. Min Yoongi was about to get up close and personal with the one individual he would never have expected. And the problem was, he didn’t care. He grabbed onto the front of Jimin’s tank and then their faces were too close and Jimin needed to stop biting his lip like that. “I’ll beat your ass if you were lying to me about being twenty.”

 


 

 

-Once upon a time there was a humble man named Subject B

-Writer trying to get over dead-end crush

-Meets annoying landlord’s son with really nice body

            -Confused as to if he’s gay or not

            -Doesn’t have time to figure it out because he’s too busy bothering the writer

            -Decides to do both at once

-They start fooling around

-Landlord’s son looks like a sweet golden retriever but is a fucking pit-bull when he’s horny

            -NOTE: Learn how to write really good blowjob scenes because damn

-Soon the inevitable feelings arrive

            -I’m

            -So

            -Fucked

 


 

 

The days felt too short. Yoongi didn’t even notice time passing. Because he was always either writing, sleeping, or shoving his tongue down Jimin’s throat.

He didn’t think he would like it as much as he did. It felt as if there were far more than two years between them; Jimin had far less experience, after all, as well as the mentality of a thirteen-year-old. Yoongi tried to tell himself that Jimin was not his type. That was a hopeless lie; Jimin was funny, caring, and made up for all the things Yoongi lacked in his own personality. He would be anybody’s type.

There was an added benefit that Yoongi had never thought of; inspiration. Whenever he sat in front of the computer, fingers ghosting over the keys and not one thought in his mind, he called Jimin. After thirty minutes of biting up Jimin’s neck or grabbing his ass like in a high-school romance, Yoongi felt ready to write a 1000-page novel.

And there were no feelings. At least, there weren’t supposed to be. Before they did anything, Jimin would say, “You can pretend I’m him, if you want.” But Yoongi didn’t want to. Somewhere along the line, he had stopped thinking about Hoseok’s laugh at 2 A.M. or cursing the day that Kim Taehyung was born. Somewhere along the line, he had started wanting Jimin.

The realization came on the worst of days, about a month into their little affair (technically a month and a half, if he counted their first kiss). Jimin was sitting on the counter, legs on either side of Yoongi’s hips and Yoongi’s hands running up Jimin’s thighs (God, his thighs.) The way Jimin kept trying to kiss him, to pull Yoongi away from that spot behind his ear for one second and just taste his lips, made the writer almost stop all together. He looked at the boy in front of him for half a moment, and that was all it took for reality to hit him. The reality that the soft spot he had for Jimin had expanded until more of his heart was soft than not. The reality that he was in love when he shouldn’t be. It made his head hurt. But he kissed Jimin anyway, trying to tell the boy every thought passing through his brain. Jimin slid his hands up Yoongi’s back, deciding it was long overdue that his shirt come off, and how could Yoongi argue with such a brilliant idea?

But then Jimin’s eyes shot open and he impulsively delivered an aggressive bite to Yoongi’s lip. The older man broke the kiss, checking his lip for blood. “Ow, Jimin, what the fu—”

And then he looked to the left. There was Kim Seokjin, jaw hanging open in shock, clutching the keys to the apartment in a death grip. He had come home from a hard day at work, ready to relax and read a book, only to find his room-mate passionately making out with the landlord’s son. It was certainly a sight he had not expected to see.

Yoongi helped Jimin off of the counter. Nobody said anything. A feeling of light-headedness overcame Yoongi. He broke the silence: “Jin. Why are you home from work?”

Jin blinked a few times, as though it would erase his short-term memory. “The… the library closes at 4:30 on Fridays.”

Fuck.

“Is this what you do all day when Hoseok and I are working?” The air grew thick. When Jin got angry, Yoongi was never sure if he would make it out alive. “Just fool around? And you thought I wouldn’t find out about it?” His voice was getting louder with each word. “You’re not stupid, Yoongi. You of all people should know this is a terrible idea—morally, psychologically, whatever way you look at it. If you two were dating this might be a different story, but you aren’t dating, are you? Are you?” Yoongi didn’t answer. Jin sighed in frustration. “I am just so…disappointed. What is Hoseok going to say?”

No, Jin couldn’t possibly know about Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok. Yes, he had given up on Hoseok at that point, but he still didn’t want the dancer to get the wrong idea about him. “Hoseok is… I don’t even want to know.”

“I’m sorry.” Jimin spoke softly and stared at the floor. The lightbulb in his head had just went off; ‘Hoseok’ was the one who things were ‘complicated’ with. He looked so guilty. “You’re right. I should leave.”

He made for the door, only to have Yoongi catch his wrist and say, “Jimin. I’ll call you.” Jimin nodded and slipped hastily into the hallway.

“No, you will not ‘call him’, Yoongi.” Jin said after the door closed. “I can’t believe this! He’s the landlord’s son; we could get kicked out if his father knew. And he seems so innocent. You’re playing with his feelings, Yoongi, you know I can’t—”

“—Me, playing with his feelings?” Yoongi needed to stop talking before he said something stupid. “If anything, he’s playing with mine!” And there it was.

Jin and Yoongi whispered Oh my God at the same time. “You like him, don’t you?” Jin asked.

Of course he liked him. How could he not like Jimin? How could anyone not like Jimin? How could that ‘like’ not turn into ‘love’ so silently between kisses and between the sheets? But Yoongi had to lie. “A bit. It’s nothing serious, Jin. We haven’t even fucked yet.” That part was the truth. He refused give in to his own want and take the last of Jimin’s purity when there was nothing between them.

Yet?” Jin raised his eyebrows. “And you’re planning to? You’re planning to let this go on?”

Yoongi stood confidently. “I’m an adult, Jin. So is Jimin. We both know what we’re getting into and we’re both fine with it.” Except Yoongi wasn’t fine with it at all. “So trust me for once. It’s none of your business.”

When Hoseok got home two hours later, Jin still hadn’t calmed down. He would be fine for five minutes, and then start ranting again about how Yoongi needed to pull his life together. Hoseok surprisingly picked up on the tension immediately. “Bad day at work, Jin?”

Jin sat down at the table with a bowl of food and an angry look on his face. He always was a stress-eater. “Work was fine. Yoongi, would you like to tell Hoseok what I found out today?”

He should have expected this. Yoongi’s mother had pulled a similar card all the time when he got into trouble during his childhood, and Jin practically became Yoongi’s mother as soon as they moved in together. “Actually, I wouldn’t. But thanks for asking.”

And then he gave Yoongi the look. The look that struck terror in Yoongi’s heart and made him comply to Jin’s every will. Yoongi swore that look was the sole reason Jin had gotten his job as a librarian. “Yoongi.” Jin offered a rather threatening smile and motioned for him to proceed.

“Alright.” The writer set his chopsticks down and looked directly into Hoseok’s eyes. “I’m fucking Park Jimin.”

Hoseok stared in shock for about five seconds, then burst out into laughter. “The landlord’s son Park Jimin?” he said in between chuckles, “This had better not be a joke because this is hilarious!” It was certainly not how Jin nor Yoongi had expected him to react. “Oh, my God, did he walk in on you two? Please tell me you aren’t lying!” Hoseok looked ready to fall out of his chair.

Yoongi flashed a shit-eating grin at Jin. “I’m not. We haven’t gone all the way, but we could have if Jin didn’t walk in.”

There were actual tears in Hoseok’s eyes. He wiped one away when he had finally stopped laughing. “How long has this been going on for?”

“Almost two months.”

The librarian gasped and buried his face in his hands, an action pointedly ignored by his room-mates. “I’ve seen him around,” Hoseok said, “He’s pretty cute.”

Jin excused himself from the table.

 


 

 

Habits that stop usually start again. So it was hopeless for Yoongi to believe he’d actually make it more than a week without thinking about Jimin, without texting Jimin, without wanting to kiss Jimin.

“I really want to see you.” He breathed into the phone, “My door’s unlocked.”

And they were back to routine within five minutes, Jimin on his knees and Yoongi clutching desperately at his hair.

Jin didn’t say anything the next day when Yoongi came out of the shower with hickeys all over his neck, his chest, and fingernail imprints on his back. He saw them, shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

Yoongi could feel his remaining composure slipping away. His selfishness threatened to take over every time he and Jimin were together. It was Jimin who ultimately destroyed the last of his resolve, on a night when his father was out of town. Yoongi had the boy pushed up against his father’s refrigerator, licking into his mouth while Jimin worked to get their shirts off. When he trailed his fingertips along Jimin’s stomach, delighting in the way it made the boy shiver, Jimin broke their kiss and moaned into Yoongi’s neck, “I want you, Yoongi. I want you to take me.”

So he did. He went against every rational thought in his brain and followed a raw desire, because that was all he could do. Because he couldn’t say no to Park Jimin. He spent the rest of the night memorizing the way Jimin’s back arched in pleasure, counting every single flawless flaw in his skin, just loving Jimin when they were hardly making love. The sounds he had never heard Jimin make before, the expressions on Jimin’s face nobody else had seen, it was almost too much. It was the best night of Yoongi’s life.

He woke up the next morning to Jimin kissing along his shoulder blades, and almost cried because he wanted to tell Jimin he loved him. But he couldn’t.

 


 

 

“Do you still love him? After all this time, I mean.”

The question came on a Thursday afternoon, on the fire escape. Yoongi breathed deeply and pretended to keep typing. “How long has it even been?”

Jimin counted. “Ten months.”

That made him laugh. How could he even be thinking of anyone else, when he’d only been kissing Jimin and loving Jimin for ten whole months? He was positive that friends-with-benefits situations weren’t supposed to last that long. “I loved the idea of him. Such a positive person, someone who lives his life with no insecurities or fear of the future. And I care about him so much. But I never loved him, not like that.”

The boy’s hand was too close to his. They were like magnets of the same charge, wanting to touch but always slipping past each other, always pushing each other away. “Oh.”

 


 

 

When Namjoon entered the chaos that was Kim Seokjin’s life, Yoongi hadn’t seen it coming. The librarian was always so put together, so composed and confident. He didn’t have time for romance outside of books. So the first time he came to Yoongi and Hoseok about advice on his love life, Yoongi had just fallen asleep. He didn’t need to deal with Jin’s rare pranking mood that day.

It hadn’t been the first time, of course, that Yoongi had doubted one of his room-mates about their relationship status. It also hadn’t been the first time that he was wrong. Because Jin’s pranking spells usually didn’t last for weeks. Whoever Kim Namjoon was, Yoongi found amusement in Jin’s frustration regarding the man.

And then he just stopped everything. Stopped coming home at the right time, stopped cooking dinner, stopped watching TV with Yoongi and Hoseok in favor of ‘thinking’. Jin probably didn’t notice it, but Yoongi did. The first time Jin went to his little boyfriend’s apartment, Hoseok had no problem cracking jokes about how he hadn’t even received a wedding invitation. Yoongi had laughed, but it was a hollow laugh.

He knew he should give up. Both of his best friends had found commitment, had found someone permanent. And while Jimin was a definite commitment to Yoongi, the temporary nature of their relationship hung heavy over Yoongi’s head whenever Jimin would slip his jeans back on and say, “I should get going. I’ll see you later!” But every time he made Jimin smile with his eyes or laugh that squeaky laugh of his, Yoongi knew he was in it for the long haul. And he couldn’t pretend for much longer.

 


 

 

Yoongi was asleep when he heard a door slam. Hard. He’d woken up worried that someone was shooting up the apartment. And the door in question wasn’t even on his floor; it seemed to be a level lower. Yoongi jumped up immediately, grabbing a pillow for defense when he heard running footsteps at the end of the hall. Why was he the only one home every time something weird happened?

Then the knocking started. Oh his door. A loud, uneven knocking that seemed to be more palm than knuckle. Yoongi at that point had accepted his inevitable death via hallway-demon when a sobbing voice came from the other side of the door, “Yoongi? Are you there?” God, was that—

Yoongi had never moved so fast in his life, let alone to answer the door. Before it had swung open completely he was filled with an armful of Jimin, the younger man squeezing the life out of a defenseless Yoongi. He alternated between choking out tear-filled sobs and pressing little kisses into Yoongi’s neck. The writer decided that either something was really wrong, or someone was really horny.

“Jimin,” Yoongi detached the boy from his body, “Jimin, look at me.” When he got a solid look at Jimin’s face, he saw puffy eyes, a wobbly chin, and a runny nose. So something was really wrong. He’d just been texting Jimin not thirty minutes ago, and had fallen asleep when the boy stopped responding. “Step inside.” He led Jimin into the room and closed the door behind them. Jimin slumped against the wall, trying desperately to hold onto Yoongi. “Take a deep breath, come on.” The ‘deep breath’ sounded like Jimin had finally come up above the water after drowning for two minutes. Yoongi didn’t know what to do besides comb his fingers through Jimin’s orange hair and wipe away the tears on his cheeks. “Calm down. Tell me what’s wrong, Jimin.”

It took him a minute to organize his thoughts and breathing, before he stuttered out a panicked run-down of what had happened: “It’s my—my dad. He—I was going to send a text. To you. He was—he was behind me. But I d-didn’t know. A-and he took my phone, Yoongi.” No. “He read our messages. My dad—he knows. He knows I’m g-gay.” Fuck. No. “He yelled at me. He said he would never raise someone so—disgusting. He called me disgusting, Yoongi. And he kicked me out. I—I didn’t know where else to go. I don’t have my phone, or any other clothes, or money, or anything. I don’t know what to do. Oh, my God, what do I do?”

There was a boiling sensation under Yoongi’s skin. He’d never been so angry at a single person. All he wanted to do in that moment was go downstairs and beat the life out of Mr. Park. “I’m going to fucking kill that bastard.” He actually would have reached for the door handle, had Jimin’s hand not shot up and stopped him.

“Please, don’t tell him I’m here.” There was a genuine fear in Jimin’s eyes. “He can’t know I’m here.”

Since Jimin didn’t want him to, he couldn’t. “Okay…Okay. We’ll figure everything out. Until then, make yourself at home. If your dad comes up here I’ll make up some BS excuse. It’ll be fine. You can stay here.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. It was too dangerous, and Jin would be furious. But he couldn’t let anything happen to Jimin.

The boy pulled him into another hug. “Thank you so much, Yoongi. Thank you.” He looked like he was ready to pass out.

“Lay down, Jimin. Go to my room and get some rest. I promise nothing’s going to happen to you.” It was a promise with no confidence behind it.

Jimin did as he was told, sobbing his way to Yoongi’s bed for the first time without Yoongi. He was asleep in minutes.

As expected, Jin wasn’t happy. He didn’t care about having another mouth to feed, but it was obvious that the man distrusted Jimin. Hoseok, however, was ecstatic about having another room-mate. Upon meeting Jimin for the first time, the two hit it off right away and decided to share a room, making Yoongi bunk-mates with Jin. It was a bit ironic, Yoongi thought, that his old crush and his first love had bonded so fantastically.

When the new week started and Jin and Hoseok went back to work, Yoongi was completely ready to have the whole flat to just him and Jimin. But he woke up to an empty apartment and a note that read:

YG,

I’ll be back a little after 1:00. We’ve never really talked about it, but I have college classes during the day. I promise I’ll be safe and I won’t let my dad see me (he’s asleep anyway right now!). I really appreciate you letting me stay here!

-JM

It made Yoongi realize how little he knew about Jimin. He knew that Jimin had a beauty mark on his thigh, he knew that Jimin sometimes cried during sex, but he didn’t even know what Jimin did during the day. So at 1:12 when Jimin opened the apartment door with the key Yoongi had lent him, he was ready to find out more. “Jimin, what are you majoring in?”

The boy looked confused. “Business, why?”

“Do you like it?”

Jimin laughed sheepishly. “Not particularly. But it could be useful later on.”

The writer motioned for Jimin to sit next to him on the sofa. “What do you want to do with the rest of your life?”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a minute while Jimin thought. “I have no idea,” he answered finally. Yoongi swore he could see the whole world in Jimin’s eyes. “But I like where I am now.”

 


 

 

“We need to make this happen.” Yoongi knew that tone. It was the voice Hoseok used whenever he had a plan that would turn out an utter disaster. “It’s a perfect idea: Me and Tae, Jin and whatever-his-name-is, and you and Jimin. Triple date!”

To Yoongi, that sounded like a horrible idea. Unfortunately, majority ruled.

He was the only one besides Jin to have met Namjoon. The man had stopped by because “your room-mate left his jacket at my place, would you mind returning it to him?” and Yoongi was immediately annoyed by his stupid tallness and creepy deep voice. When he showed up for the ‘triple date’ however, and greeted Jin with a kiss so sweet it looked like they’d been together for years, he decided to give Namjoon a chance.

“Alright, Seokjin, please introduce me to everybody.” He said as Jin was putting food out on the table.

Both Yoongi and Hoseok laughed. “Ew, he calls you ‘Seokjin’? Jesus, you two.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Well, this is Min Yoongi, he’s a writer.” He gestured around the table, “This is Jung Hoseok, he’s a dance instructor, and his boyfriend Taehyung. And that’s Park Jimin.”

“He’s a freeloader.” Yoongi probably deserved the punch to his arm.

Jimin flashed Namjoon a smile. “I’m just here for Jin’s amazing cooking!” He ignored Hoseok, who whispered something to Taehyung that sounded suspiciously like And also Yoongi’s ass.

Not surprisingly, Jimin and Taehyung were instant best friends. They all got along well, actually. There were six people in his flat at the same time and Yoongi didn’t even care. But both Taehyung and Namjoon believed that Yoongi was dating Jimin. And when Jimin smiled at him like he did and went along with everything, Yoongi believed it a little bit, too.

 


 

 

Yoongi had just gotten off the elevator when he ran into Mr. Park. His first instinct was to be worried, to assume that Mr. Park was suspicious of him. But when the landlord greeted him as if everything were normal, Yoongi relaxed. “Hey, kid, where are you heading to?”

“I’m going to a meeting,” With his publisher. About a homoerotica novel he’d written. Then a though came to Yoongi, the perfect question to ask Mr. Park: “How’s Jimin doing? I never see him around anymore.”

And the man laughed. Actually laughed. “That rascal finally got off his ass and moved out. He’s living on his own now.”

Yoongi tried not to lock his jaw or grit his teeth too much. “Oh yeah? Did he move in with a girlfriend or something? To be honest, I’ll kind of miss him; Jimin’s a good kid.” If only you knew your son was sitting pretty in my room, still underneath your roof, eating the best food I’m sure he’s had in years and making out with me every day.

“Nope, no girlfriend.” Mr. Park winced, and Yoongi knew he’d hit a nerve. “But he’ll come around.” Sure. Right after he was done sleeping with another man. “I do want grandchildren someday, after all. I wish I had a son like you—you seem like you really have everything going for you.”

He was wrong to want such a thing. Jimin was so much more perfect than Yoongi would ever be. And Yoongi needed to leave before he punched his landlord. So he put on his sunglasses and walked to the door. “Bye. Good luck on the grandchildren front.”

 


 

 

Something was wrong with Jimin. He flinched if Yoongi touched his arm, and claimed he didn’t feel well when Yoongi tried to kiss him. “Okay, tell me what’s up.” He asked when Jimin got startled every time the writer talked to him.

Jimin sighed. “I just… Look, we should stop this.”

He could feel his heart collapsing, but played dumb anyway. “Stop what?”

This. You know. I can’t do this anymore.” He looked like he wanted to cry.

There were a million thoughts running through Yoongi’s head. “Why? Tell me why, Jimin.”

“Because there were no strings attached. From the beginning. But I want more.” Jimin stood up to bury his face in Yoongi’s shirt. “I’m so fucking selfish.”

Something snapped. Some hidden reserve deep inside Yoongi that he was sure not many people discovered in their lifetime. “No.”

Jimin raised his head to see Yoongi. “No?” It wasn’t a word he was used to hearing from Yoongi.

“No. You’re not selfish. I won’t consider you selfish until you’ve got me beat. Which you don’t. And no, you’re not leaving me.” He took Jimin’s face in his hands. “It’s impossible to be in any kind of relationship with no strings attached. There’s always a string, with every person you meet. I want to kiss you as a lover, not as we are now. I’ve loved you for a long time.” His lips found Jimin’s cheek, his nose, his forehead, words that he would never have said a year ago tumbling out of his mouth. “Please don’t leave me.”

The boy’s lips were trembling when he kissed Yoongi. For the first time, Yoongi focused on the emotion of the kiss rather than the sensation. For the first time, he felt no guilt.

 


 

 

-Long story short landlord’s son moves in secretly

-Eventually they become a real thing. It’s real.

-Couple sex is way better than casual sex

-This goes on for like another year, damn

-Landlord’s a fucking idiot who has no idea

            -“You guys never have any trouble paying your bills aside from that one time” like no shit your son’s been paying a fourth of it for months

-Subject C has it really easy because he can just go to his hubby’s house to get laid but nooooo Subject B has to go out of his fucking way if we he has sex past 6 PM

-Meanwhile Subject A moves out to live with his bf once he graduates

-That sounds really nice but Subject B is poor and can’t move out

-Subject C moves out too

            -IF YOU EVER READ THIS WHAT THE FUCK JIN YOU NEED TO VISIT MORE AND BRING FOOD WE DON’T WANT TO EAT TAKEOUT ANYMORE

-Finally Subject B and landlord’s son find a nice (AND CHEAP $$) place to call their own

            -I hope Mr. Park liked seeing the heartfelt note Jimin attached to the term release papers

-It’s nice to live together because you can say “I love you” without anyone else knowing

-Oh my God this is too fucking mushy

            -Add more sex (should not be a problem)

            -Instant best seller

            -The fucking end