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“Hyung,” Yoongi tentatively starts, “No offense and I mean this in the most gentlest, kindest, and friendliest manner, but what the fuck do you mean?”

“Now, now, Yoongi,” Seokjin chides and Yoongi takes so much offense that Seokjin’s talking to him like he’s one of Seokjin’s preschool kids. “I know it’s sudden, and I know I should have asked you first—"

"True, very true."

"But Hoseok’s been telling me about this kid, and how he’s been crashing Hoseok’s couch for weeks because he got kicked out in his last no pets allowed apartment when his landlord found out about a secret cat! And it wasn’t even his secret cat, it was his roommate’s secret cat. It’s just so sad!”

“So, you told him there’s gonna be a free room up for rent. In my apartment. Without even asking me first.” Yoongi doesn’t want to sound murderous but the brightness of a ten am isn’t helping. He really should put curtains sometimes.

So,” Seokjin corrects, “I told him I’m moving out from this apartment and my soon to be ex-roommate might want to find a new roommate. And since he’s a really cute puppy, I mean, kid, I told him I’d put a good word for him and consider the room his.”

Yoongi runs a hand on his face, hating how his Saturday morning is turning into. “You gave him the keys, hyung. You already gave him the keys to my apartment. He could be the sociopath stalker who's been killing all the blondes lately.”

“Okay first, you gotta lay off with the Criminal Minds, Yoongi, I swear to god,” Seokjin reproaches, sounding somewhat honestly disturbed. “And second, I have met the guy, okay. Give me a little credit, my discernment towards people and their character is just fine.”

“You let a hobo in once,” Yoongi says flatly. "Because you thought it was sad and then he stole all our ramyun and chips."

"He told me he only had his puppy but then it died when a bus ran over it. It was sad!” Seokjin has the audacity to grunt and Yoongi scoffs in disbelief. “And trust me, okay, I’ve met the kid. And apart from feeling bad for him, I only considered him because I think he’ll be good for you. He can cook and god knows you need someone who can cook because, while you’ve convinced enough people to believe that you are a lone wolf, I know for a fact how much of a failure you are at self-care—”

“Thanks,” Yoongi mumbles dryly. “You have so much faith in me.”

“I really don’t,” Seokjin says and Yoongi rolls his eyes so hard his head hurts a bit. “Why do you think I’d do this for you, aside from being the nice hyung that I am?”

“That’s so many levels of wrong,” Yoongi objects. “I would complain but I’m better at writing when I’m mad so I’ll send you an essay later.”

Seokjin’s gaze is annoyed but he’s suddenly pouting and if only it isn’t so goddamn early in the morning, Yoongi may find it cute.

“I’m just looking out for you.” Seokjin pouts even harder and it’s supposedly playful, but his voice sounds sincere and a little sad.

Great, Yoongi thinks. Because not only is he being suddenly shoved into this new roommate mess, he’s also being guilt-tripped by his soon to be ex-roommate. And what’s worse, he’s actually feeling a little accountable. Yoongi makes a guttural noise as he walks over the kitchen counter. He pours a hot water on his tea. “I’m still mad. Or not mad, just. It’s not that I don’t trust you or your judgment, it’s just. Weird.”

Weird because we’ve been roommates for four years and now you’re moving out, leaving me with a new roommate like a consolation gift, Yoongi wants to say but that’s cheesy as fuck, he’d rather be bald than having Seokjin hear that.

But Seokjin follows after him, takes out his own mug from the cupboard, pours hot water on his own tea. “I know.” He says and somehow, he really sounds like he knows what Yoongi means.

They’re both leaning against the counter, sipping their respective mugs of tea every now and then. Yoongi wants to be mad a little longer, but he’s a little more sad than he likes to admit. They’ve been housemates for four years and they’ve fallen into a routine. They have an almost perfect balance. Seokjin knows how to push Yoongi's buttons, and how to not push Yoongi's buttons. He buys Yoongi meat and cooks for him when Yoongi's starting to hole up in his room when he reaches a slump in his design class. He doesn't complain about Yoongi's loud music at four am, Yoongi's only comrade during all-nighters along with his bottles of Red Bull.

Yoongi's just not a fan of routine change. But he has got to admit, he’s glad he doesn’t have to be a victim of sexile anymore. Now that's Seokjin's finally moving in with Namjoon.

Seokjin breaks the peace and tranquility after a moment and says. “Jimin, that’s his name by the way, is moving in next Sunday.”

Yoongi almost forgets the issue. “Oh, joy.”

“Be nice.” Seokjin warns. “I promise you, he’s a good kid. You’ll be fine. Both of you will be fine.”

Yoongi doesn’t believe it, convinced he’ll never find a suitable roommate than Seokjin. But he lets the protest die down on his throat and inhales deeply instead.

“And besides, you’ll eventually need a new roommate to pay half the rent. You gotta admit, I just saved your ass.”

Well, that’s part true. But it's not like Yoongi can agree to that. He can’t let Seokjin have that when he’s hurting Yoongi’s adult man-pride by treating him like a five-year old preschool kid.

“Whatever, hyung.”




“You’re just having issues because separation anxiety,” Hoseok mumbles over samgyeupsal the following night. “That’s normal hyung, you've been living together for four years. It's okay to feel sad. Feelings are normal. We’re all people here. We don’t judge you.”

"Safe space, hyung, safe space." Jungkook says, nodding sagely at Hoseok's words. Yoongi cries a little inside because he can’t possibly murder two college kids in public right now. He also wonders hard why he’s even paying dinner for these ungrateful piece of shits.

“I would strangle you two,” Yoongi says, “but I can’t eat all of these alone.”

“That’s right, it’s bad to waste good food.” Jungkook says as he chomps noisily and there’s some sauce on his chin. Yoongi grimaces in disgust and wonders again how girls and even boys fawn over this man-child.

“Anyway, hyung, don’t worry too much about it. Jimin’s a good kid. All of this separation anxiety and sadness will be gone as soon as you meet Jimin.” Hoseok gives him a knowing smile and it makes Yoongi feels exposed.

“I don’t have separation anxiety issues or sadness.” Yoongi grumbles. “Jin-hyung’s just moving about twenty-minutes away.”

“There, there, hyung.” Hoseok sympathizes and it’s so fake, Yoongi wants to strangle him for real. “It’s gonna be okay. We can always crash your place if it gets too lonely.”

“Actually, don't.” Yoongi says with a measured frown. "I'll end you."

“I've known you for like, almost three years now, hyung. I’ve seen through you’re edgy, robot-ish persona,” Hoseok says. “I know there's a soft, mellow, ball of cotton candy that needs affection and capable of love, somewhere deep inside your almost non-existent heart of brick.”

Jungkook beams at this and adds, “We know you love us, hyung.”

“I don’t." Yoongi gulps on his water three times for good measure and repeats, "I really, really don’t.”




Seokjin moves out Saturday the following week and leaves Yoongi plastic boxes of microwavable food.

“Be gone now.” Yoongi says after a long, overbearing, bone-crushing hug. Namjoon stands behind Seokjin, looking unsure.

"Be good, okay.” Like a parent leaving his son for boarding school. “Don’t get into trouble. Don’t forget to eat.”

“You literally live twenty-minutes away from me, hyung. Literally.”

“I know,” Seokjin fake sobs, “I just feel overwhelmed. I feel like one of those parents whose only kid is finally leaving for college.”

Yoongi makes a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. “I’m in college. And you’re the one who’s leaving.”

“I’ll write letters.”

“I’ll really punch you if you actually do.”




Jimin moves in the next day, and when Seokjin had told him about Jimin, he had imagined a tall, lanky university stud who showered maximum twice a week. 

But Jimin shows up short, a little buff, fresh-looking, with orange hair.

Yoongi shouldn’t complain because he had once dyed his hair mint green over a lost bet. But this guy right here has orange hair. Orange. And somehow he’s able to pull it off.

But orange.

“Hi,” Jimin says, his voice is chirpy, “My name is Park Jimin and I promise you I’m not a sociopath stalker who’s been killing all the blonde in the neighborhood.”

Yoongi’s eye twitches and he’s already done constructing a long, nasty message for Seokjin later. Or Hoseok.

“I’m Min Yoongi. And I’m glad to know my new roommate’s not a serial killer.”

Jimin smiles and his eyes disappear and it throws off Yoongi a little, because wow.


“Uh,” Yoongi says distractedly, helping Jimin carry one of the boxes. He’s got four boxes and a suitcase. “What’s that?”

In one arm, Jimin carries something that Yoongi thinks, at first, is a stuffed toy. But up close and personal, it looks like it has the body of a dog but it’s head is a flower-shaped translucent piece of glass.

“Oh, this?” Jimin pointedly looks at the piece of thing on his arm. “It’s a lamp.”

Filter, Yoongi, filter. Seokjin had once reprimanded Yoongi over his words. Don’t say ugly to a person’s face, even if it’s true. Unless you’re certain it’s not amateur friendship anymore.

“It’s, uh, eccentric.” Yoongi tries and kind of succeeds. Maybe. "Cool."

“It's name is Enrique.” Jimin says earnestly, looks at it like there’s a story behind the ugly piece of horror. “It was a gift.”

Yoongi purses his lips and nods slowly before he loses it. He can feel the tip of his ears going red.

He kinda wants Seokjin back.




At first, it is funny.

The lamp really looks funny and it just brings out laughter from Yoongi. Laughter as in, I can’t fucking breathe, I'm dying, Hoseok. Oh god, what a fucking ugly piece of furniture.

And this is a good thing. Because Yoongi is a busy senior college student who barely has time to afford any form of entertainment. Whenever he passes by Jimin’s room, door ajar, he sees the lamp and it just simply ticks him off so easy and he’s laughing again. Such quality entertainment. Yoongi silently applauds it, for somehow bringing him joy.

But one day, Yoongi comes home to his apartment, and he sees the thing placed beside his red couch.

Yoongi feels so disoriented and he takes so much offense because what the fuck?

“Can I have you back?” He calls Seokjin later that night. “I promise I’ll dutifully take out the trash this time and I’ll always buy the milk. And I don’t snore like Namjoon.”

He hears Namjoon yelling at the background, fuck you, hyung! Jin-hyung’s mine.

Seokjin makes a soft approving noise and Yoongi hates Namjoon sometimes. “Talk to me, champ.”

“I can’t take this offense, hyung. I’m a fucking interior design major. I fucking design furniture for grades. And this piece of horror my new roommate identifies as a lamp, Enrique, he calls, is an insult to all the lamps in the entire history of all lamps!”

“Weren’t you just laughing about it the other day?” There’s a background noise of clanking.

“Are you baking?” Yoongi asks distractedly. “And yes, because it was fucking funny. But if you put it in the living room, my living room, it’s criminal offense. I’m sending him to federal prison. Can I?”

“I’m making cupcakes. My kids have a party tomorrow,” Seokjin explains. “And no, Yoongi, you can’t send him to federal prison. You really gotta stop watching too much crime shows, man. I worry about you.”

“Can you make some for me, too. I can swing by tomorrow to your place,” Yoongi remembers a deadline but that’s okay, he’s already done that project since last week. “And hyung, what do I do?”

“You deal with it like any adult would: Talk to Jimin.”

“But you said I have to filter my words,” Yoongi cries. “I can’t just simply say it’s ugly. You said I can’t say that unless it isn’t amateur level of friendship anymore.”

Seokjin pauses for a second. “Well, I can guess you have to work on it and advance your level of friendship.”

Yoongi whines. “I want a dozen of your cupcakes.”

“Five pieces.”







Being shoved into this new arrangement is basically living with a stranger but so far, as in for two weeks, Yoongi thinks Jimin’s an okay, passable guy.

Aside from Yoongi refusing to look at the abomination that glaringly sits in their living room, nothing’s so bad about Jimin. He takes out the trash every night and buys the milk.

Until one Saturday morning when Yoongi wakes up before eight am. That itself is an abomination.

“He makes breakfast,” Yoongi tells Hoseok and Jungkook over another set of dinner. This time it’s lamb skewers, courtesy of Jungkook’s vehement demand.

“Jimin’s a morning person,” Hoseok agrees. “He’s odd enough to voluntarily take morning classes.”

“He makes breakfast,” Yoongi repeats. “Mixing all the greens from the fridge and uses an osterizer. It’s like poison.”

“It’s a healthy drink. I like that drink,” Jungkook tries to be helpful but fails. “He brings extra during dance practice and gives it to me.”

“I share a wall with the kitchen.” Yoongi says, scandalized at best. “Yesterday, I woke up before eight. Eight.”

“What a scandalous thing!” Hoseok screams in his theater voice. "I almost feel a vigorous malevolence for thee but alas!" Hoseok puts a hand on his chest. "I'm busy eatin'."

“I hate you,” cries Yoongi. “I really hate both of you.”




Namjoon picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hyung,” his voice is groggy. “Are you okay, Yoongi-hyung? Shit, oh. Are you crying?”

No,” Yoongi croaks. “Namjoon, my friend, Namjoon.”

“Are you drunk? Go to sleep, it’s three in the goddamn morning.”

“I've had three bottles of Red Bull." He feels a little light-headed. Exhausted, but can't sleep. "Pulled an all-nighter.”

“Jesus, hyung,” There’s some sort of shuffling noises. Namjoon must have gotten up. “You know that’s bad for you.”

“I’m okay, I swear but Jimin...”

“What about Jimin? Is he okay?”

“No, Jimin, he,” Yoongi sniffs. “He walked into my room just now and asked me to turn down the music and I’m okay with that, I understand that, but then he asked me. Oh god, Namjoon.

“What?” Namjoon sounds almost frantic. “What, hyung?”

“He asked me who the person in my poster is. He doesn’t know Kendrick Lamar.”

“Oh my god!”

“I know! I know only you can understand me right now, Namjoonie, I fucking know—"

"Oh my god as in oh my god you woke me up for this shit. I am going to throttle you when I see you tomorrow. I'm hanging up!"




“Hyung... Yoongi-hyung. Help?”

Yoongi finds Jimin leering at him from the door of his bedroom. He’s half naked, just a towel wrapped around his hips. Isn't it a felony to look so good with just a fucking towel. A chibi Roronoa Zoro towel. Yoongi silently prays to some deity to grant him eternal restraint. Or a genie. He’s not choosy, really.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I was about to shower,” Jimin says. “But there was a cockroach. And we're out of Baygon.”

“Swat it with a slipper. Or a rolled up magazine?”

“It keeps flying around and it landed on your soap.”


Yoong picks up one slipper and on his other hand is a rolled up magazine. He makes a beeline to the bathroom.

"Where, where is it?"

Jimin hesitates for a moment but finally steps in and stands behind Yoongi. "There? Or holy shit—"

Yoongi vaguely remembers how it happened because one second, he sees the cockroach flying somewhere and both of them are screaming (as manly as they want to believe it to be) while he's carelessly flinging his slipper in the air for simultaneous attack and defense. And next, is him falling onto Jimin's wide open, bare-skin legs.

"Hyung, my future kids."

"Oh dear god."




Yoongi visits Namjoon at the campus radio station with a promise to bring chicken and beer.

“You’ve been talking about Jimin a lot,” Namjoon says after he bid goodbye to his listeners. Namjoon is a political science major but he sidelines as one of the university radio djs and exploits this job by playing just almost all the songs in his personal playlist that everyone can find on his personal twitter. “Jimin’s a messy eater. Jimin’s Enrique. Jimin’s shirtless again.”

Yoongi can feel himself flushing because the real reason why he's kind enough to bring Namjoon chicken, is so in exchange he can lash out and cry about yesterday's events. However, hearing Namjoon's reaction, Yoongi decides the story will be for later.

“Every time I pass the living room I always make sure to look down or look just anywhere else just so I can’t see that, that thing,” Yoongi refuses to call it a lamp. Forever. “It makes me wanna stab myself but as much as I hate myself, it's not enough self-loath to actually stab myself.”

“You just hate it because it’s Jimin.” Namjoon says and his lips are glistening with oil. Namjoon’s also a messy eater. Why is Yoongi surrounded with messy eaters. “You know what they say: the more you hate, the more you love.” Namjoon lilts the last word with obvious motive.

“That's disgustingly cliched.” Yoongi honestly feels very slandered but he hands a tissue to Namjoon out of pity and disgust. “He really walks around shirtless a lot that I almost considered making charity and ask people to donate shirts.” Yoongi almost made a facebook page the other day. “And it’s so annoying because it’s screaming like 'hey look at my guns and my abs!!!' And it’s almost wrong because his face looks like a baby? It’s like a cut out of Son Goku Super Saiyan 5’s body but with Shin Chan’s head, you know?”

Namjoon wipes his mouth and Yoongi's nose scrunches at the sight. “That’s a disturbing image.”

“It is.” Yoongi says but thinks Jimin’s not that bad in the face department, really. He’s kinda cute. Sort of.

“Are you sure you’re not in love with him?”

Yoongi throws a used tissue soaked with gravy and oil at Namjoon’s face.




Seokjin had told Yoongi that Jimin could cook but Yoongi had thought Seokjin only meant Jimin could make basic ramyun and could reheat stuff in the microwave.

What he doesn’t expect is coming home on a Tuesday night with an almost full course Korean meal in the dining table.

“Hi,” Jimin says. He’s wearing an apron and it’s so cute, Yoongi kinda wants to squeeze something. Probably Jimin. “I made dinner.”

“More like a feast,” Yoongi says, drops his bag on the floor, and heads to the table. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” Jimin puts on oven mitts that Yoongi has never seen before and takes the pot of galbijim to the table. “Just wanna say sorry for, you know, the other day.”

“Well if an accident like that results in food like these, then I’m not complaining.” Yoongi manages to crack a joke. Why did he crack a joke. Where the fuck did that come from.

Jimin looks a little red. “And it’s been like, what, two months since I’ve moved in? Just a small house-warming, not really, sort of thing. For me. And you. Thank you.”

“What for?” Yoongi sits across Jimin.

“I don’t think I’ve properly said thanks for, uh, taking me in?”

Yoongi feels a little red now, too. The taking me in kinda swells his heart because it's sounds like he just made shelter for a lost, cute puppy. Oh god, he did, didn't he.

“That’s really on Seokjin-hyung. He already gave you the go without even asking me.”

“That’s why I’m thanking you. For being considerate about it?” Jimin says gingerly. “I know it’s not easy to live with a total stranger. Look at me, got kicked out because my ex-roommate was keeping a cat that I didn’t know of, in a no pets allowed apartment. Did you know I live in that apartment for like, a year and a half? And that roommate practically live for only a month and then we both got kicked out.”

Yoongi doesn’t know any of this. And he kinda feels like an asshole now.

“But anyway,” Jimin continues. “I’m really glad I met Jin-hyung. Did you know he’s given me boxes of microwavable food when I moved in?"

So that's how those boxes had accumulated. Yoongi kind of thought there's a fridge fairy or something.

“Jin-hyung’s a little overbearing sometimes.” Yoongi says. “But he means well. Like a young, childish parent.”

Jimin makes a small smile. "What do you think would happen if we rob him off this guardian role?"

"Probably dramatic. Something like, running away to a different country while leaving us all individual letters that's both spiteful and going to make us cry like abandoned little pups. It's going to be regally theatrical."

Jimin gives a delighted, hearty laugh and Yoongi feels a little warm inside his chest. He kinda wants to hear this laugh more and often.









“Awful, god-awful.”

Decisively, Yoongi looks at Jimin and makes a crooked, arrogant smirk. “You’ve already said that.”

“I’d apologize but I feel so unapologetic right now. I don’t know what to say. Again, why did we watch that movie?” Jimin slouches back on the couch and it makes him look like a potato. But a cute, attractive kind of potato.

“Because you’re trying to be indie,” Yoongi suggests. “And I wanted to eat popcorn.”

“I was not.” Jimin says, sounding mildly offended. “Taehyung told me it was a great movie.”

Taehyung is Jimin's best friend that Yoongi has yet to meet.  And he has mentioned him for like, only a hundred times. Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek almost every time Taehyung is being brought up.

“You’re best friend has quite a taste.”

“Yeah,” Jimin looks solemnly on the muted television. "He always dips his fries on his ice cream."

Yoongi cannot deny that this Taehyung fella is amusing but he also feels weirdly bummed. “Well,” he finally says, “As much as I have enjoyed wasting ninety minutes of my life, I gotta go crash.”

Jimin gives him a smile, a tired one, “'Night, hyung.”

“Not gonna crash yet?”

“Nah,” Jimin says. “Gotta finish a paper. One last paragraph.”

“Oh, well,” Yoongi mumbles. “'Night.”

Before he sleeps, Yoongi thinks about the past two weeks and the odd, warm feeling of getting along with Jimin like friends. Yoongi remembers Jimin’s stupid smile and the way he feels excited about the smallest things like the post-it note holder Yoongi's given him the other day.

(What's this?"

"A belated housewarming, sort of, gift? I would have brought toilet papers but you've bought a lot from yesterday's groceries."

"You know you didn't have to."

"I know, I just thought you'd like this kind of thing?"

"I do." Jimin had smiled at him. "Thank you!")

And thinks it’s not so bad.

Jimin’s not so bad, really.





He hears Namjoon sighing deeply over the phone. “Oh thank god. Are you okay?”

“Uh huh. Living.” He’s currently fixing a concept board on photoshop. “What’s up?”

“You’ve haven’t called and complained about Jimin for like, three weeks.” Namjoon says. “Jin-hyung's a little worried. And by little it means, a lot. You didn’t kill Jimin, did you.”

“You know you’re my go-to whenever I need to hide a dead body.”

“I can’t even decide if I’m honored or affronted.” Namjoon says. “But I’m glad you’re getting along okay.”

Earlier today, Jimin had been thoughtful enough to ask him over the phone whether he had wanted a to-go drink.

("Americano? Are you working all night again? Are you on a zombie streak because that sounds fun but I prefer a human roommate."

"Fine. Some milk-tea, then.)

Yoongi smiles, glad that Namjoon can't see his face right now. “Same.”

“So, you sure you’re not in love yet?”

Yoongi cuts off the call and immediately dials Seokjin’s number.

“Jin-hyung? Yeah, hi. I’m okay. I just called to say one time Namjoon said you’re japchae’s too sweet, as in, too much sweetness he said he wanted to throw up. Bye.”




And then it happened.

"Oh my god," Jimin's voice is cracking, "Oh my god you killed Enrique!"

In Yoongi's defense, what happened earlier was completely accidental.

He came home with two heavy plastic bags full of grocery shopping on both of his hands, half-running, half-concentrating on holding his pee in, and bumped into the table where Enrique rested.

And Enrique fell.

It's all physics. Really.

"Okay, first, killing would imply that I have exterminated a life but that thing's a lifeless abomination. Therefore, your accusation is wrong." Yoongi rubs a palm on his forehead. "Second, it was an accident. And third, I have a bruise."

Jimin doesn't seem to process anything at the moment, kneels on the floor and starts picking up the broken pieces. He looks upset so much, on the verge of tears. "You destroyed him."

"Oh god, really?" Yoongi shouldn't do this but this is really ridiculous. So much. But he's definitely not gonna let all of the blame be put on him. "What were you thinking anyway, putting that thing in our living room?"

"Oh, so now it's my fault that I was just trying to put design in this monotonous space you call living room?"

"A what now?" Yoongi sneers. He's not sure if their friendship has leveled up but he's pretty sure it isn't amateur anymore. They've been sending memes and vines since last week, isn't that enough proof of leveled up friendship. But even if it isn't, Yoongi just can't hold it anymore.

"Jimin, that thing's ugly."

Jimin gasps so loud that Yoongi feels a little spooked.

"You, you said what?"

Apparently, it's still not deep leveled friendship. Yoongi kinda wants to punch himself. Also kinda wants to fight Jimin.

"It's ugly." Yoongi deadpans. "I can't believe something like that even exists."

"First you break him to pieces," Jimin cries. "And then you call him ugly?"

"Truth hurts sometimes."

"Oh, oh. So we're talking about truth now?" Jimin looks a little hysterical now. Yoongi has always pegged him as a sore loser. "Hip-hop is try-hard and Kendrick Lamar sucks!"

"You did not."

"I just did."

"Well," Yoongi racks his brain for a comeback, "Your hair is like orange fruit that if someone would put a leaf on your head, they won't know the difference!"

"Your shampoo smells bad! Coconut? Are you also a try-hard hula girl?"

"You're a messy eater and you rarely wear a shirt as if you don't own a shirt but your closet is a jungle full of shirts!"

"You don't clean the tub after you bath for five hours!"

"I don't bath for five hours! Your room's like a tragic hurricane victim!"

"Like yours is any better!"

"I have to go because I have class in an hour!"






"Married life is that bad, huh." Namjoon pensively says.

Yoongi downs his beer. "I think I need new friends."




When Yoongi turns on the lights, he’s welcomed by a figure on the couch in a fetal position. 

“Holy shit,” Yoongi says. “Crap. Dusk fell two hours ago, what the hell are you doing, Jimin.”

Jimin only grunts and when Yoongi steps closer, he finds Jimin looking a little pale.

“Hey, you okay?” Yoongi puts a hand on Jimin’s forehead. “Holy shit, you’re burning.”

Jimin manages to squirm a little and he looks hurt with his eyebrows creasing. “Shut up, hyung.”

“Wake up,” Yoongi tries to nudge. “At least go to your room. And change your clothes. Have you eaten?”

“No,” Jimin says, voice groggy. “Tired. Think I’m dying. Leave me alone.”

Yoongi feels genuinely affronted. Two days later and the whole Enqirue issue has not been put to bed yet. The fire is still apparently hot between them. Because Jimin is a stubborn hot piece of shit. And Yoongi refuses to apologize.

But right now he is willing to overlook their issue because Jimin's really not looking good and Yoongi's kind of worried. But again, Jimin, the stubborn hot piece of shit, is making all of this damn difficult.

“No dying on my couch.” Yoongi tries to be stern. “Sit up.”

It takes a moment of frustrated grunting but Jimin eventually  gives in and listens.

“Listen to me, Park Jimin. You will go to your room and change while I make porridge so you can eat. And after that you can take your medicine. Got it?”

Jimin’s eyes are barely open but he nods and starts walking off to his room.

Yoongi inhales deeply, wonders how in hell does he end up babysitting. He has to call Seokjin and ask how to make a porridge.




“Hyung,” Jimin starts, he’s better now that he’s eaten and has taken his meds. Still running a fever but not as delirious as before.

Yoongi puts back the cold towel on Jimin’s forehead. “Need anything?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Does it involve eating my cupcakes last week. Because you’re not too sneaky.”

“No,” Jimin says. “Those were my cupcakes, too, okay. Jin-hyung also loves me. But that’s not it.”

Yoongi only snorts.

“Hoseok-hyung told me months before, how you laughed at that lamp. And said it was an ugly piece of horror.”

Yoongi snarls. “I hate that idiot.”

“And it was also partly his idea to put it beside the couch.”


“It was his and Jungkook’s idea.”


Jimin laughs and it’s the kind of soft laugh that Yoongi favors and then he says, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Yoongi says, like on autopilot. He can feel his own cheeks going warm and the tips of his ears going red. “I realized it was really important to you.”

“Nah,” Jimin says. “I got it from some guy on the street, way back. Said he really needed extra money, and he looked helpless so I was willing to hand him enough cash, but then he said I should take the lamp, and I said it was okay, but he insisted and told me it was very important to him. So, you know.”

“Guy on the street?”


“Was it on some alley near the bookshop that sells second-hand old books, two blocks away from campus?”

“Uh,” Jimin tilts his head to look at Yoongi, and he looks like a very much confused puppy. “Yeah?”

“Was he wearing a brown trench coat and has a really thick beard?”

“You’ve met him?”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi says, almost yelling. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I know two people who got scammed by a hobo. The same hobo. Didn’t the beard even tip you off? Honestly? Honestly.”

“You mean, that’s the guy who told Jin-hyung—”


“And stole your food—”


“But he was nice! And sad! Really sad.”

“You’re an idiot." Yoongi laughs. "Thank god you’re cute.”

Jimin visibly flushes and Yoongi doesn’t think it’s just because of the fever. Yoongi is also currently trying not to strangle himself because what the fuck.

“You think I’m cute?” Jimin pulls his blanket and covers half his face.

Yoongi wants to go bald. "No! I mean, yes, I mean." How the fuck did this conversation spiraled into this. “I mean, you’d be lying if you don’t think you’re attractive.”

“So, you think I’m cute and attractive?”

“Actually, I think you’re an idiot.”

“I also think you’re cute. And attractive.”

Yoongi can’t see Jimin’s mouth but he knows it's in a form of a smile.

“And,” Jimin continues, “I also think we should go on a date some time?”

Yoongi laughs boisterously, forgets it’s already in the middle of a goddamn night. “You’re smooth, you know that.”

“I try.”

“I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

Jimin suddenly sits up. “I kept sending you signals! Ever since I talked to Hoseok-hyung about how cute you are, he told me you also find me cute but you have different ways of expressing it and I quote, he likes to pretend he has a heart made up of alloy like Captain America’s shield, but deep, way deep inside, he’s a cotton ball of soft and cute and he likes puppies. I wasn’t totally convinced that you might like me, too. But took their advice anyways. Going shirtless was Jin-hyung’s idea.”

“Jin-hyung’s part of this, too?"

Jimin gives a sheepish smile. “Everyone is.”

Yoongi is honestly profoundly impressed. Affronted, but impressed. “Well-played, Park Jiminnie.”

“So, what do you say?”

Yoongi feels so many emotions right now and he promises to himself to send everyone hell later. But on top of the list, Yoongi just feels happy.

“I say, you let me take you out on Saturday.”

Jimin is all smiles now, his hair is disheveled and his lips are pale but still, what a fucking beautiful sight. “Okay.”

Yoongi can't help but smile. “Good. Now go to sleep.”




“Hey, what do you of the chances that that lamp might just be something he found from the trash?”

“Very likely. About ninety-percent.”

Jimin crinkles his nose. “Yikes.”