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The office is as loud and chaotic as usual, but the empty space in the cube behind Yoongi makes the place feel weirdly deserted. 

His ass hasn't been in his chair for 10 seconds before there is a pair of clasping hands on his shoulders, whirling his seat around. Yoongi reels back as Hoseok's face hovers inches from his. 

"What. Happened," Hoseok demands, a scary glint of intense interest eyes. "You never texted me back, you dick! Details of every kind. Sight, touch, sound, smell, come on. Let's go."

Yoongi groans lightly. "Nothing happened."

Hoseok's expression turns the strangest mix of sympathetic and sharp. "Buddy, there's a used condom in your office trash can, and this cube smells like a teenage boy's unwashed sheets."


"Come on. Give me the full experience. Start from the beginning, and don't leave out a single detail."

"Please fuck off," Yoongi grumbles, trying to turn back to his work. 

"You owe me this! I can't believe you refused to take video. After everything I have done for you." Yoongi's laser death glare is enough to have Hoseok sliding off of his desk, backing away slowly with his hands in the air. "Fine, bitch. I'll just check the security cam footage."

Yoongi's forehead hits his desk with a gently thunk

Jin's meeting with the CFO is late, at four, and Yoongi is painfully aware of the passage of time as the day drags on, the Friday that never ends. 

He gets the text at 5:05. His pocket vibrates while he is sitting at the bus stop with Taehyung and Jimin, waiting. The message is short and sweet, and it makes his stomach twist in the most incredible fashion when he sees who it's from. 


Seokjin From Corporate: Approved. We did it. :)


Yoongi can't help his smile, the grip on his phone tightening as he exhales slowly. 

He types twenty different responses and deletes them all. Nothing seems like the right balance of just enough and not too much. After almost fifteen minutes of deliberation, he settles on a "thumbs-up" emoji. 

On the bus, on the way home, Taehyung chuckles beside him. 

"What?" he questions insistently, elbowing his friend in the ribs. 

"Nothing. Just Jin. Snapchat"

"What... What's he doing?" Yoongi questions as casually as he is able. 

"He's getting drunk off his ass to celebrate. With a bunch of people from Corporate. I guess he has friends, after all.”

"Oh," Yoongi remarks, suppressing his jealous pangs as he imagines Jin enjoying cocktails with a crowd of fashionable, professional city folks. "Good. Great."

He surreptitiously checks his phone, unsurprised but still kind of bitter when he sees no new notifications. Taehyung's phone buzzes happily, and Yoongi stands up abruptly, getting off the bus one stop too early. 



After the second Jammies, at the insistence of Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi had given in and purchased a tuxedo, figuring that biting the bullet and buying one would make more sense than paying to rent one annually. And this year, he has almost gotten over the utter mortification of walking into a shitty Karaoke bar dressed in a full tuxedo. It probably doesn’t hurt that he is completely absorbed in hypothetical after hypothetical about what's going to happen when he sees Jin again. 

He stands on the street outside the bar in the fading sunlight, ignoring the inquisitive stares of passers-by, scuffing his shiny shoe against the concrete as he contemplates going inside. 

Somebody elbows him harshly in the ribs, and he startles, but it's just Hoseok. "Hey."

"Don't scare me like that, dude," Yoongi scolds him, hand fluttering to his heart. 

"Why are you standing out here when waiting inside for you are both alcohol and that supremely hot piece of ass you somehow managed to trick into sleeping with you?"

Yoongi is so anxious that he doesn't even glare. "I was just about to go in," he claims falsely, skeptically eyeing the door and startling once more when it swings open and a middle-aged woman and her son step out. 

"Sure you were," Hoseok appeases him, patting his arm sympathetically. 

"I just..." Yoongi starts quietly, "I just don't know how to act. Like, we had weirdly intense sex. In our place of work. And not a minute after we were done, he was asking me for the goddamn projections, like nothing even happened. I’m not kidding, Hoseok, it was weird fast," Yoongi's eyes lose focus, the world going a little blurry. "What if it didn't actually happen? What if it was all some crazy dream fueled by too much pizza and sleep deprivation?"

"It was real, buddy. Believe me." And Yoongi does muster a suspicious glare for that one.

"Please tell me you did not actually watch the security camera footage," he pleads.

"Oh I definitely did," Hoseok promises. "But you couldn't see shit in your actual cube. Only the walls shaking slightly as you presumably got your ass pounded, then one very disturbed janitor fleeing the scene. But it most certainly happened."

Yoongi groans lightly, turning away and vaguely considering taking off at a sprint. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Hoseok reassures him, grabbing lightly onto Yoongi's sleeve to keep him from booking it. "Look, I'll be right there beside you. I've got your back."

"I am not remotely comforted by that."

They have rented one of the larger rooms in the place, and Jimin and Taehyung have decked it out with decorations from what looks like the clearance bin at a party store.

Upon entry, Yoongi does a quick scan, counts the bodies in the room, and yep, there are five, in addition to Hoseok and him. All accounted for. 

Namjoon and Jungkook are already engaged in a spirited rap duet, and Jin's head is thrown back in laughter at something that Jimin just said. When the door shuts behind them, Jin's head jerks in their direction, and he stiffens visibly. Yoongi takes a deep breath and steps forward. Jimin and Taehyung somehow melt into the shadows, and suddenly it's just him and Jin. 

"Hey!" Jin says with an obviously forced enthusiasm. "So... Congratulations?" He extends his hand, and Yoongi's heart plummets even as he reaches forward to take it. Back to Business. 

"Uh, yeah," Yoongi agrees with a fake-ass smile. "Great work. Thanks for all your help."

"Just doing my job," Jin replies stiffly, and that kind of stings. 


"Okay everybody sit the fuck down and pay attention to me," Hoseok's voice rings out, too loud, over the totally unnecessary microphone. Yoongi averts his eyes from Jin's gaze and makes his way over to the bench. Jin takes a seat on the far side. “Welcome to the annual year-end Jammies, the most anticipated event of the year. I am your host, the delightful, delectable Jung H-, ”

“Get on with it,” Jimin groans, leaning his head on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Wow Jimin, kindly dig your thong out of your ass and get into the holiday spirit, would you?”

“Fuck off, Hoseok, I like my thong right where it is,” Jimin bites back, rising halfway from his seat as Taehyung restrains him.

“Okay pissy pants,” Hoseok replies with his eyebrows raised, “Simmer down. We’re here to celebrate the year’s end and the departure of our good buddy, Jin.”

Jimin just pouts harder, sinking deeper into his seat. “Why should we celebrate either of those things? I love Jin, and 2016 was fucking amazing. I had my first threesome, and my pit hair really filled in. 2017 is going to be shit in comparison.”

“Just-” Hoseok interrupts, massaging his forehead with his fingers, “-chill. Would you? Just fucking chill. Let me do this. This is my time.”

“I told you we shouldn’t have let him host it,” Taehyung complains to Namjoon. “Jimin and I were way better. He has the sex appeal of a beached dolphin.”

 “Anyway, I’m speaking,” Hoseok says loudly, ignoring Jimin and Taehyung’s fierce whispering. “Now before we get started with the presentation of awards, I have created a compilation video of this year’s very best office hi-jinx. A year-end review of our very best moments.”

“Hoseok, this feels like not a good thing to do. This feels like a getting fired thing to do,” Namjoon warns him solemnly.

“Nams. Chill, buddy. Would I, the HR guy, put all of our careers at risk by parading our blatant flouting of company policy and providing substantiating video evidence for several misdemeanors, one with trial pending?”



“For the security of all of your jobs, I was did not officially attend this event, and I never saw this video,” Jin remarks decisively when the lights flicker back on and the screen goes black.

“How did you even get that footage? Who has been filming us?” Namjoon asks in dismay, then he stops himself. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“We should sell this to MTV. We would make a great show,” Taehyung ponders seriously. “They could call it The Office.”

“I think that one’s already a thing, buddy,” Jungkook says, patting him on the back consolingly.

“And now back to me, everyone look at me,” Hoseok screeches into the mic, which screeches right back. Yoongi covers his ears.

“Hoseok, enjoy this,” Namjoon warns him, jiggling his leg anxiously in his seat, “Because you are never hosting again.”

“You forget, Namjoon, this show dies with me. That sexy bastard over there cancelled it.” He points accusingly at Jin, whose head jerks from side to side to see if everyone is looking at him. They are. “Anyway, we will now start the presentation of the awards. When I call your name, please come up and accept your trophy. Unfortunately, as we only have the room until 11 and that video was slightly longer than I recalled, we will not have time for acceptance speeches or indignant denials this year. Accept your award and sit your ass down.”

“You’re the one who argued for twenty minutes last year how you weren’t the ‘Most likely to end up in the ER with something weird stuck up his ass.’ And look how that turned out,” Namjoon argues, folding his arms in front of him. “Take me off your fucking emergency contacts, by the way. Never again.”

“Well excuse me if I have been exploring my sexual boundaries. There is nothing wrong with a little creativ-”

“Boo, time’s ticking, asshole,” Yoongi heckles him from the corner.

“Fine,” Hoseok huffs. “This first award is a new category this year, but one of my personal favorites. The award for ‘Brightest future in Amateur Fetish Porn’ goes to our own Kim Namjoon!”

“Fuck no,” Taehyung and Namjoon say in unison.

“I was a shoo-in for that one!” Taehyung demands, gripping his beer in outrage. “This is bullshit, Spaghetti-Os aren't even a real fucking fetish."

"Speak for yourself," Hoseok mumbles, flipping through the note cards in his hand.

“I refuse to accept this award,” Namjoon says, settling back in his chair.

“I refuse to not accept this award,” Taehyung demands, beating his fist on the shaky table.

“Well, whether you accept it or not, Namjoon, you're the winner," Hoseok tells him matter-of-factly. "And if you change your mind and decide to embrace your destiny, I know a guy who would be very interested.”


“Okay, moving along,” Hoseok continues. “This one is an old favorite. Most HR Violations in one year.” He slides the envelope open with one finger, his face a mask of mock surprise when he sees the name on the card. “Now this is a real shocker, the award goes to-”

“You,” come six unamused voices in unison.

“Wow you guys really know how to suck the fun out of a thing,” Hoseok pouts, tossing the envelope over his shoulder.

And he’s right. There is the feeling of a weird dark cloud hanging above the whole event, and Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s just him, or if the rest of the guys pick up on it, too. Maybe it’s because it’s the last Jammies, maybe it’s because Jin is leaving, or maybe his own negative energy is just rubbing off on all of them. Hoseok seems to be trying to keep the whole thing moving, but even Jimin only puts up a mild fight when Jin takes the award for “Most Likely To Make a Straight Man Realize He’s Not That Straight.” Hoseok’s hand lingers on Jin’s as he passes him the trophy.

Beside him, Jungkook scoffs audibly. Yoongi whispers him a hushed, “What?”

“If you weren’t totally into Jin, Hoseok actually would have tapped that,” Jungkook hisses back at him.

“I’m not… into him,” Yoongi whispers back, tucking his arms in front of him protectively.

“Okay,” Jungkook says by way of appeasement as Hoseok announces the next award, “Most Likely To Leak His Own Sex Tape To The Entire Company.”

“Taehyung, this award is for Jimin,” Hoseok insists into the microphone, his voice echoing and distorted as Taehyung moves to accept the trophy.

“We have asked you several times to refer to us as ‘Vmin,’” Taehyung responds, trying to pry the award from Hoseok’s hand. “And I accept this award on his behalf.”

“He’s ten fucking feet away,” Hoseok says incredulously.

“Respect my choices!” Jimin shouts from the back of the room, his feet propped up on the table.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs softly in his direction while Hoseok and Taehyung struggle over the trophy. “You know he likes you, right?”

“What are you even talking about?” Yoongi mutters as Taehyung lets go of the trophy and Hoseok consequently hits himself in the eye with it.

“Jin. He likes you,” Jungkook confirms. “I see things. I hear things.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, gaze darting nervously over to Jin, who is focused intently on the conflict before him. “He likes my ass.”

“He likes you,” Jungkook insists. “You are the two most oblivious fucking humans…”

“Look,” Yoongi bites back quietly, “We are adults. Adults can separate the sexual and the emotional.”

“But only fucking dumbasses think that they have to,” Jungkook trills, his voice almost obscured by Hoseok’s scream as Taehyung wrestles him to the floor.

“Oh shut up,” Yoongi hisses, slumping deeper into his chair. “What do you know? You’re like two.”

“I may be two, but at least I’m not a fucking dumbass.”

Yoongi jumps to his feet in righteous indignation, and everyone is too distracted by the continuing scuffle going on up front to notice him leaving the room. He paces angrily out front of the Karaoke Bar for a few minutes, before the door swings open, and suddenly Jungkook is beside him.

“What are you doing out here?” he demands as Jungkook leans beside him against the brick of the building.

Jungkook shrugs, placing a cigarette between his lips. “I’m having a smoke. What are you doing?”

Yoongi plucks the cigarette from Jungkook's mouth, ignoring his protestations, and tosses it to the ground. “Smoking is bad for you.”

You smoke.”

“I do no such thing.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook pouts, kicking the ruined cigarette out onto the road. “Fuck you, that was my last cigarette.”

“Good,” Yoongi grumbles, wrapping his coat around him as the wind picks up.

“Hey…” Jungkook starts, glancing to the left and right to make sure that no one else is listening. “You know that you’re a pretty cool dude right?”

It’s the closest thing to praise from Jungkook that Yoongi has ever heard. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, asshole,” Jungkook says in annoyance.

“Okay, what’s your point?”

“My point is…” Jungkook struggles. “Jin’s a pretty cool dude, too.”

Yoongi chances a glance at Jungkook, whose hair has fallen in front of his eyes. “What are you-”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook bursts out suddenly, “Just get married and have babies, I don’t fucking know. Fuck off.”

With that, he shoves himself away from the wall and wrenches the door open, disappearing inside. Yoongi is confused and stunned for a moment. He is also touched. It’s very possibly the longest conversation with Jungkook he’s ever had.

He meanders back inside after several moments, and he sees that Taehyung is now pouting in the corner.

“Come on guys, can we get a little pep in our step?” Hoseok tries to enthuse them, as Yoongi settles back into his seat. But his audience is completely unresponsive. Jimin drains his drink, and Namjoon yawns widely.

The last straw seems to be when Yoongi, too, refuses to accept his trophy. It bears the title “Best Ass-Related Office Incident of 2016.” (“Originally it was for the staple thing, but you actually out-did yourself this week…” Hoseok tells him later.)

“Maybe we should just call this one, Hoseok,” Namjoon says quietly, pushing away his half-full beer.

“I… But it’s the last…” He sighs heavily, his face falling a little as he looks out into the unenthusiastic faces before him. “Okay. Fine. There’s just one more award, anyway.” He picks up the last trophy and holds it so that he can read the title. “It’s ‘Bro of the Year.’ It’s for our newest bro. Jin. Unanimous votes. Whatever.”

If Yoongi wasn’t sure whether atmosphere was down before, he certainly is now. He thinks he hears Jimin sniffle quietly. Jin rises quietly from his seat and takes the trophy from Hoseok with a gentle smile, patting his shoulder with his free hand.

“Uh, thanks, guys,” Jin says quietly, and Yoongi isn't sure if his voice is husky or if it's just his imagination. “This is really sweet. And really fucking lame. But mostly sweet. And thanks for making me an honorary member of the gang. It really… It means a lot. Uh. Yeah.”

With a stiff nod and pursed lips, he retreats to his seat, and Hoseok grabs the microphone again, shrugging. “Well, that’s it, I guess?” It’s utterly anticlimactic. Everybody moves to start gathering their things and straightening up. “Jesus people, I’ve seen more cheer in an airport security line.”

Jin is among the first ones ready, trophies slipped into his shoulder bag, phone in his hand. “I’ve got an early flight,” he says awkwardly. “So… It’s been fun?” Jimin steps forward to hug Jin sweetly, but besides that, they are silent. "See you around, I guess."

Yoongi searches for any sign of additional acknowledgement in his face as Jin's eyes sweep over the group, any lingering glance. But there’s nothing. With a small wave, he turns to go, and Yoongi can’t believe he’s actually leaving. The door to the Karaoke bar swinging shut behind him, leaving nothing but a burst of cold wind from the outside.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hoseok bursts out the second the door clatters shut. “That’s it?”

“What?” Yoongi asks defensively, even though he knows exactly what.

“Wow,” Hoseok marvels, staring at Yoongi like he truly can’t believe it. “You guys are the biggest fucking idiots.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you expect to happen? At this very public company event?” Yoongi pouts.

“I don’t know, I guess I just hoped that one of you would realize that you’re madly in love with each other.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Are you eight years old? Hoseok, we fucked. End of story. What would possibly make you think that he’s in love with me?”

“Um, I don’t know, Yoongi. He bought you a dumb plant. He worked his ass off and called in like all of his favors to make your job easier,” Hoseok counts off the reasons on his fingers, “He spent much of his birthday two feet from your dick instead of making a break for it. And he turned down one very eager blowjob because he knew he was leaving and didn’t want either of you to get hurt. Not that that turned out, but, still…”

“This is ridiculous, Tae,” Jimin says loudly, pushing past Taehyung to address Yoongi. “I’m telling him.”

Taehyung grabs his arm and growls, “Jimin, do NOT-”

“Jin drunk texted Tae that he was in love with you last night,” Jimin blurts out before Taehyung can stop him.

There are about three seconds of silence, then, “What.” Yoongi stares, frozen mid-snarl, refusing to believe.

“Wait, seriously?” Hoseok asks, peeking around Yoongi and looking floored.

“Thanks a fucking lot,” Taehyung spits at Jimin. 

“Tae, did he really?” Hoseok demands.

Taehyung pouts. “He kind of got drunk after the meeting, and he told me.”

Yoongi lunges, snarling, but Hoseok is too fast, catching his arm. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Yoongi spits, struggling in Hoseok's grip.

Taehyung looks genuinely surprised, spine going rigid, eyebrows disappearing into his fringe. “Oh, hell no. No. No, you don’t get to give me shit for this. You’re the one who explicitly told me no more meddling. You said don’t help you ever, ever again. So fuck that.”

“Taehyung, this is-“ He grips his hair and throws back his head, groaning loudly. “Taehyung, this is- this is SO… that is- You-“

“You said do not help you, even if you’re bleeding in a ditch!”

“This is clearly not what I meant!”

“How else what I supposed to interpret that? You said never again!”

“Kids, now is clearly not the time to be arguing semantics,” Hoseok interrupts them, pushing Yoongi towards the door. “Yoongi, go.”

“Go where?” Yoongi asks, though he knows.

“Go after him!”

“N.. No way!”

“Yoongi,” Hoseok sighs, giving him that knowing look. “Just go.”


Then he's charging towards the door as the cheers of his friends resonate behind him.

Outside, the streets are dark and empty, and Yoongi's first thought is that he waited too long. But there's a flicker of movement, and Yoongi spots a pair of broad shoulders in an expensive coat hunched under the bus stop shelter. The figure checks his watch, before straightening back up and pulling his coat tighter around him.

“Hey!” Yoongi shouts, too loud in the quiet streets. Jin turns then, and thank god it actually is Jin, because Yoongi is already jogging towards him determinedly. He’s out of breath by the time he reaches him, a combination of being extremely out of shape and also about to barf from nerves.

“Yoongi,” Jin asks, concerned, turning to face him as he approaches. “What’s wrong?”

Yoongi reaches him finally, shoes slapping hard against the pavement as he comes to an abrupt stop.

“Uh,” he wheezes, “You. I. You…. I need to sit down. Wow, I’m gonna barf for so many different reasons.”

Jin guides him to the bench, looking endearingly concerned, and Yoongi's stomach wriggles uncomfortably inside if him. “Hey, chill. You’re fine. What’s up?”

Yoongi swallows hard, the mucus sticking in his throat as he looks at Jin. “I think you should stay.”

Jin stiffens where he stands, taking an automatic half step back, and that is not a good sign. “What?”

Yoongi cringes both internally and externally, suddenly less brave. “I don’t think you should go. I think you should stay here.”

Jin looks pityingly at him, and Yoongi’s heart clenches painfully. “Yoongi, my apartment is rented. My ticket is booked. I’m going.”

“Yeah well, there’s always going to be another apartment, another ticket, another city. It’s not going to stop unless you stop it. So stop it. And stay,” he hesitates before he adds, “With me.”

Jin lets the statement hang unresolved in the air for a few moments before he sighs. His fingers delicately find his temples and massage them gently. “Look, Yoongi. I thought I was clear going into this. I was always going to leave. I thought you knew that.”

“I did know that. I mean, I do know that,” Yoongi stutters, heat flooding his face and ears. “But… I like you. So I’m trying. I’m making an absolute ass of myself trying. One of us has to.”

Jin sighs deeply, shifting his bag in his shoulder. “I don’t know what you think-“

“Taehyung told me.”

Jin's mouth snaps shut with an abrupt clicking noise, and his eyes are suddenly hard, his lovely mouth pulled into a strangely harsh line.

“What you said last night,” Yoongi continues, still trying to catch his breath, knowing that he sounds a little desperate now. “He told me.”

Jin’s blink seems like more of a twitch, and his mouth is tight as he takes a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring slightly.

“I’m leaving, Yoongi,” he says finally, his voice disturbingly flat. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Yoongi deflates slowly, his stomach sinking through the floor as he chews so hard on the inside of his cheek that his tongue tastes bitter and metallic. His heart is galloping away at breakneck speed, adrenaline and anger surging in his blood. “Nothing, I guess.” His eyes are prickling in warning, and he bows his head to ensure that Jin can’t see. “But hey, you were right.”

“About what?” Jin asks quietly, like he already knows. Yoongi swipes covertly at his eyes before pushing himself to his feet and staring into Jin's reluctant gaze.

“You are a fucking coward.”

With the nastiest glare he can manage, Yoongi pushes past him, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the wind. He makes it about ten feet before his neutral expression crumbles pathetically, and Yoongi has no choice but to walk back into the karaoke bar, because he knows Jin is still watching his retreating figure.

Hoseok understands the situation first, of course, heads off the premature chorus of ‘how did it go?’s and ‘what did he say?'s with a stern shush, rushing forward to divert a distraught Yoongi into the restroom, where he ushers out one guy mid-piss and locks the door behind them.



Yoongi gives himself the rest of the weekend. He allows himself to mope and cry and eat and whine and lay completely still, not saying or doing anything, just pitying himself.

But on Sunday, from the safety of his blanket burrito, he hears his front door clatter open against his wall, and he would be worried if he didn’t already know that Hoseok made a copy of his house key a few years ago, very much without his permission. For safety, he said.

“Turn on your phone, you asshat,” Hoseok blurts out from the entryway. “It's going straight to voicemail.”

“Euhhhhhgh,” Yoongi groans through four layers of blankets. Last he saw his phone, it was stuffed in his sock drawer so he didn’t have to think about people.

“I assume you haven’t been out in public this weekend, so brought you groceries.”

Yoongi buries his head further into his blanket pile. “Jin loved food.”

“He’s not dead, Yoongi. He’s just an ass.”

Yoongi grunts as Hoseok slides the bags onto his countertop. “He had a great ass.”

Hoseok plops down on the couch directly on top of Yoongi's feet, forcing him to grunt and draw them up into his chest. He slaps Yoongi’s ass affectionately. “How are you feeling?”

“Fuckin great, never better.”

“Okay, buddy.”

Hoseok just sits with him for a while as The Bachelorette plays in the background. Yoongi sniffs a little and snuggles into the couch, eyes trained on the TV. “He’s playing you, JoJo, don’t trust his fake-deep ass!” Yoongi explodes quietly but intensely, lobbing a used tissue at the TV, and Hoseok pats his blanketed ass affectionately.

“Hey, Yoongi?” Hoseok asks after several minutes, and he sounds a little insecure.


“I’m really sorry. If I pushed you too much with this whole thing.”

Yoongi struggles to sit up without the use of his hands, which are trapped in his burrito. “It’s… whatever dude. Not your fault it turned out like this.”

“I know, I know. I just… I still feel bad. We all just want you to be happy.”

“I am well aware,” Yoongi assures him with raised eyebrows. “And it’ll be the death of me.”

“But really. How are you feeling?” Hoseok repeats, gentler this time.

Yoongi hesitates, collapsing back into the couch and exhaling hard through his nose. “Honestly, it feels worse than with Tae. Way worse than Tae. Why does it feel so much fucking worse than with Tae?”

Hoseok shrugs, snuggling a little closer to him. “I think maybe because you and Tae were never going to work. You knew that. He knew that. We all knew that. But you and Jin…” he trails off.

Yoongi feels nauseous.

“But hey, I'm really proud of you, though. For putting yourself out there. I know that wasn’t easy for you. And look, just because you and Jin may have worked doesn’t mean he’s the only guy who will ever work for you. You’re a catch, my friend. And we will not rest until we find you a man. I promise.”

“Hey Hoseok?”


“Come here,” Yoongi says, arms open wide.

Hoseok looks shocked but pleased as he clambers forward for a hug. “Aw, reall- OUCH!”

He recoils as Yoongi’s vicious flick resonates against his forehead. “Not even if I’m bleeding in a motherfucking ditch.”



Come Monday, he is back, like nothing ever happened. Everyone gives him a wide berth, except Hoseok, who seems to be physically unable to not try and cheer him up, and Taehyung who very obviously feels responsible for the whole catastrophe.

“Do you want a refill?” Taehyung asks him as he is perched on Yoongi's desk, gesturing at a mostly full mug of coffee.


“Do you want some lunch? I can order lunch.”

“It's nine in the morning, Tae.”

Taehyung looks desperately around him, clearly determined to find something he can help with. His eyes skim over Yoongi himself, then he does a double take, gaze drifting down slightly. “Blowjob?”

“Go away!” Yoongi explodes, chucking a pad of post-it notes at Taehyung's face and rising from his chair. Taehyung startled at his advance and scuttles away, looking fearful.

“Hey, he’s just trying to help,” Hoseok says loudly from where he sits in Jin's old cubicle, empty except for a chair. He is tossing a stress ball repeatedly in the air, feet propped up on the desk.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Your proper response, as an HR guy, should be, ‘Well done for rejecting that inappropriate sexual proposition in the workplace.’”

“I never discourage team building, Yoongi.” The stress ball finally stills in Hoseok's hands, and Yoongi tenses, because he knows that it means Hoseok wants to talk to him about something. “Uh hey. Are you going to those interviews today?”

Yoongi plops down in his seat and whirls away from Hoseok, crouching over his desk. “No.”

“Ah. Right. Well that’s fine. I mean, it's not like you’re literally the only person in this office who can do it- Oh wait.Yep. You are.”

“Why can’t you and Namjoon just do it?” Yoongi groans dejectedly.

“Because we are hiring another accountant, and neither of us knows shit about accounting. If we aren’t careful, we'll end up with another me. And there is only room for one of me.”

“You are literally the worst HR guy ever,” Yoongi allows, pouting.

“Exactly. I am completely unqualified for the job,” Hoseok agrees. “But hey, don’t you want to choose who you work with? Unlike… last time…”

Yoongi is very still, scowling at his desk as he hears Hoseok shift nervously behind him. “I’m busy.”

“Yes. Exactly. You are extremely busy. And that is why we are hiring another accountant. So come on,” Hoseok claps his hands expectantly. “Let's go.”

Yoongi just grunts, and Hoseok sighs in frustration behind him.

“Fine, be that way,” Hoseok says, determined, and Yoongi thinks that maybe he’s given up. Until he feels something tight around him. He looks down and sees Hoseok's sweater wrapped around his chest, and it pulls tight as Hoseok uses the sleeves of his sweater to drag his rolling chair backwards, away from his desk.

“Hey! Stop, you ass!” Yoongi demands, struggling feebly against the fabric. Hoseok ignores him, the chair bumping into the cubicle wall as he drags it out.

“Nope. Not letting your breakup blues fuck up anything else your life. This will be good for you.”

Yoongi sighs and slumps as Hoseok drags him and his chair through the office, ignoring his friends' snorts and chuckles as they watch the pair roll slowly across the room.

When they make it to the meeting room, clattering and jolting through the door, Hoseok pushes him into place beside Namjoon and knots the sweater around the back of his chair.

“Stay,” he commands, taking his own place on the other side of Namjoon.



Yoongi watches the ashes on the end of his cigarette as they grow precariously long and start to lean low. The door clatters open behind him, and he startles, the ashes jolting loose and swirling down and down, over the side of the balcony. He whirls around, only mildly disappointed this time when he sees a balding middle aged man with an ill-fitting shirt.

All of the candidates had been extremely well-qualified, of course.

“This one,” Yoongi had said when Namjoon had asked for his top pick, tossing at random the first folder on the pile in Namjoon's direction.

Namjoon and Hoseok had given each other a badly disguised skeptical look. “Fine,” Namjoon had allowed, and that was the end of it.

That had been a month ago.

Now, it's the new hire's first day, and Yoongi is putting off going upstairs. She had been nice enough, quiet and friendly. She had also looked mildly terrified of her surroundings, and who could blame her honestly, when the only view from the window separating the meeting room from the main office was a screaming Jungkook rocketing past on what Yoongi could only assume was an engaged fire extinguisher strapped to a rolling chair.

So he figures he'll give her some time to get a little acclimated to her new environment before he throws his own grumpy ass into the mix. If he was a weaker man, his reluctance might also have something to do with seeing Jin's cubicle occupied by someone other than Jin. But Min Yoongi is not a weaker man.

His phone buzzes obnoxiously in his pocket. He wonders who would be texting him so early in the morning, but of course it's Hoseok.


Asshole #1: hottie alert in the accounting department


Yoongi scoffs, extinguishing his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and wondering when Hoseok developed a thing for (much) older women.

But he is far too tired, too curled in on himself to notice the weirdness in the air or the lingering scent of something sweet and familiar. He is simply as determined as possible to make it through this day with as little interaction with anyone as possible, especially his new cube buddy, Helen.

He tucks his head, fumbling with the box of cigarettes and lighter in his hand in an effort to look busy, eyes trained on his own fingers as he blows past Helen’s cubicle. From the sound of it, she isn’t in. Probably off doing orientation or paperwork with Hoseok. Yoongi slings his bag moodily to the floor, opening his email and quickly scanning through to delete the spam of daily lewd comics from Hoseok and Taehyung.

“Hey.” Hoseok’s head appears over the top of his wall.

“Hey,” Yoongi replies, looking confused. “Shouldn’t you be doing orientation stuff with the new hire?”

“I mean, we already had most of his stuff on file from before, so there wasn’t much to do.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi asks evenly, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation of blood draining from his face.

“Jin. Duh. How did that go by the way? The reunion? Was it totally fucking awkward? Have you guys already re-christened the cube?”

Yoongi is at once keenly aware of his surroundings. The sweetness in the air, that’s Jin’s disgusting, too-sweet coffee. The box sitting on the chair in the cube across the row is filled with neatly-organized file folders and topped with a precarious mountain of wrapped pastries. And that dorky laugh coming from somewhere close by is the same one he’s been hearing in his dreams and nightmares for the past few months.

“Oh. Shit. Has it not happened yet?” Hoseok asks, looking abruptly fearful.

Yoongi is out of his seat, out of his cube, out of the office before he can even make the conscious decision to leave.

“Yoongi, wait!” he hears as the door swings shut behind him, and waiting is the last thing he wants to do, especially when he recognizes that voice. He jogs lightly down the hall, jamming the button for the elevator so hard that it hurts, or it would hurt if he could register anything other than the raw, electrifying panic that is coursing through every vein in his body.

Luckily for him, the doors slide right open, like the lift was waiting for him. He throws himself inside, urgently pressing the Door Close button. After an eternity, the doors finally start to rumble closed, and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Until his heart is in his throat. Until the doors jolt open as a shoe appears in the very last crack of space, and suddenly there is Jin. Yoongi feels like his heart has just fallen straight out of his ass.

Jin is breathing hard as he steps inside with Yoongi, allowing the elevator doors to close, leaving them utterly alone.

Yoongi’s taken aback, because Jin looks intensely vulnerable, so uncharacteristically uncertain, and that softness makes him so painfully beautiful that Yoongi’s heart aches. If he didn’t know he was in love with him before, he sure as fuck knows it now.

“Um. Hi,” Jin greets him lamely. “That was… not how that was supposed to go.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Yoongi swallows hard, trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

“I-… I work here,” Jin says tentatively, with a frightened but hopeful smile.

“No,” Yoongi replies, pleased at the anger in his own voice. “No, you used to work here. So what the fuck are you doing here now?”

“Well. I, uh, took the accounting job. At the branch.”

“You sure don’t look like the middle-aged woman we hired.”

The elevator doors slide open to reveal a small crowd of waiting strangers.

“Sorry, this one's full,” Jin apologizes, mashing the Door Close button violently and ignoring their confused and mildly offended expressions. He presses the button for the highest floor. He turns back to Yoongi once they’re moving again. “Tae and Jimin scared her away.”

“And why would they do that?” he demands, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

“Because I asked them to?” It sounds like a question, and Yoongi can see the apprehension in his expression.

He bristles in anger. “So let me get this straight.” He licks his lips in annoyance, trying to figure out where to even start. “I haven’t heard from you in over a month, and now you’re just back? For good? With not so much as a heads-up? Who fucking does that?”

“Okay,” Jin allows, nodding as he chews his lip. “That’s fair. This was probably not the best way to go about this whole thing, but-”

Yoongi scoffs viciously. “That is an understatement.”

Jin is quiet as he mumbles, “Taehyung said I should make a big gesture.”

“Big gestures make me panic.”

“Right. Of course they do. That would be why you ran. This was all one big, dumb thing to do. Motherfucking Kim Taehyung.” It’s Jin who looks angry now, at least for a moment, until his anger fades into something softer that looks like fear. “I bought a house here. I bought a fucking house.”

“So I’m just going to let you languish in your buyers’ remorse while I get the fuck out of here, okay?” Yoongi says, turning to the door as the elevator slows once more at another floor.

“Wait! Please just wait,” Jin begs him, grasping onto his sleeve. “At least let me apologize. I probably should have, you know, led with the apology. But I am an utterly clueless, endlessly selfish coward of such immense magnitude. Please?”

As Yoongi is pondering, the doors clatter open to reveal a single young woman, clutching a newspaper, who seems to pick up on the weird atmosphere, and after a few moments of awkward silence, she mumbles, “I’ll get the next one.”

“Well at least you’re self-aware,” Yoongi glares at him as he turns away from the door as it closes once more, and Jin looks very determinedly at his feet. For a few seconds, the only sound is the mechanical clunking of the elevator as it makes its way up several floors. “Jin, why are you here?”

“Because,” Jin struggles for the right words, “Because usually, when I move, it’s like this feeling of relief, like a fresh start. But the second my plane touched down, it was different. It wasn’t exciting or new. It was just… stale and ugly and shitty. And all I wanted was to be back here. Yoongi, sorry doesn’t even cover it. I owe you a hell of a lot more than an apology.”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably as the elevator moves between floors 3 and 4. “You don’t owe me shit. You were always clear with me about what you wanted. Or didn’t want, I guess.”

“No, but that’s just it. I do want it. I want it all,” Jin insists, and his eyes are a little desperate now. “I want the house and the cat and the friends and the job. And god, I want you." Jin pauses, clearly trying to read Yoongi's reaction. Yoongi tries to keep his face as expressionless as possible, but his insides feel like fireworks and jello. "I just... didn’t realize how much until I left, and you weren’t there anymore.”

Yoongi eyes him carefully and skeptically, chewing very hard on his lip. “How… how do you want me?” he asks, hating how vulnerable it sounds, but he continues regardless, “Because I can’t… do what we did before and act like I don’t care about you. I mean, Jesus, you were asking me for those projections before I could even wipe the fucking cum of my desk.”

Jin cringes visibly at the memory. “That’s- that’s not what I want. That wasn't even what I wanted at the time, I just panicked, and it was such a shitty thing to do, and I'm so fucking sorry. I just want to be with you however you’ll let me.” His hand twitches towards Yoongi for a moment, like he is going to take his hand, but at the last minute, he doesn’t. “I’m… I’m here until you tell me to leave.”

Yoongi feels himself softening, but part of him is still very bitter. “So if I tell you to leave right now?”

Jin’s face falls pathetically, and Yoongi is both regretful and extremely satisfied. “Then you have my word. I’m gone.”

Yoongi stands up straighter, and there’s no Christmas Punch on which he can blame this burst of courage. It’s all him when he reaches forward to grab Jin’s hand. Jin looks surprised and flushed and immensely pleased. “And if I never tell you to leave?”

Jin smiles then, blinking hard in that cute way that he does, and his eyes look a little sparkly as he squeezes Yoongi’s hand. “Then I’m yours.”

Yoongi allows himself to crack a smile himself, pulling Jin even closer. When the elevator doors open again a moment later, he feels Jin stiffen perceptibly in front of him, and when he follows his gaze, he sees why.

The janitor is standing behind his cart, framed by the elevator entrance, looking extremely unamused. The three of them stand there for a moment in an intensely uncomfortable silence, until the doors do them a great mercy and slowly, so slowly rattle shut.

“We have really got to stop living out our drama at work,” Yoongi says emotionlessly.

"Yeah, can I just reiterate what a bad idea I now recognize this to be?" Jin replies sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

"God you're a dumbass," Yoongi says affectionately before dragging Jin's head down to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Yoongi realizes after a moment that they must not have pressed a button, because there is a sea of quiet gasps as the elevator doors slide open, but Yoongi just gropes for the Door Close button and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. The doors do close, luckily, but a second later, his hand hits another button, and the elevator comes lurching to a stop, the alarm ringing insistently. Yoongi looks over and sees his hand on the Emergency Stop button. 

He looks back at Jin, who just quirks an eyebrow and pulls Yoongi closer. He's hard. "We should like… stop living our drama at work tomorrow, right?” Jin says lightly, testing the waters.

Yoongi sighs hard through his nose. “Throw your jacket on the security camera and take off your pants.”



 "Okay, so against my better judgement, this is happening. Welcome everyone to the first and possibly last team-building seminar, led by our illustrious Sales Team," Namjoon says soullessly. "Before we start to engage in whatever team-building activity you two have planned, I figure we could all get some general pointers from you two, as you are, somehow, the most successful Sales Team in our entire corporation. So. What's the secret to your teamwork?"

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and shrug, then Jimin speaks up. "I guess I would have to say... sex?"

"Okay," Namjoon nods, brows furrowed but face otherwise unchanged. "Interesting metaphor. So what you're saying is that teamwork is a lot like sex. Mutually beneficial."

"Usually," Jimin mumbles, eyebrow quirked, and Taehyung gasps like he's been slapped. 

"So what kinds of things do you guys do as a team to maintain that bond?" Namjoon prompts them further, resting his chin on his folded hands and leaning forward. 

"Lots of oral mostly. Like insane amounts of oral," Taehyung shrugs. "Luckily, we're both really into it."

"Oral communication," Namjoon mutters seriously, still nodding. "Good, good. Yes, communication is key to teamwork. We could all engage a little more orally around here."

Jungkook stifles his laughter, and Jimin and Taehyung just look at Namjoon with vague, confused smiles. 

"Uh... right," Taehyung continues. "But I would also say that it's important to do a lot of like... emotional and spiritual maintenance. Sex is one thing, but at the end of the day, marriage is impossible if you don't constantly do work on that emotional bond as you both change and grow."

"Yes, yes, the closeness required between teammates for the honest exchange and marriage of ideas," Namjoon agrees, and Yoongi rolls his eyes so hard that it hurts. "Collaboration. Trust. All of these things are key. Anything else?"

"Uh.... Assplay?" Jimin adds, looking to Taehyung for confirmation. Taehyung nods vigorously. 

Namjoon's expression remains unchanged, but his eyes are suddenly unblinking and wide. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, like, mutual assplay. We find that it preserves our power dynamic and keeps us on equal footing sexually," Taehyung explains very matter-of-factly, Jimin nodding quietly beside him. 

"And by assplay you mean..." Namjoon prompts them, and Yoongi sees the fear in his eyes now. 

"...Assplay," Jimin confirms. "Wow, I really can't believe we are allowed to talk about this at work."

It's silent.

"I'm sorry, I'm not following. That sounds... sexual," Namjoon shakes his head, face crumpled in confusion now. 

"It is very sexual," Taehyung clarifies, "It's... assplay."

"You mean..." Namjoon starts, the horror setting in on his face. "You... and Jimin... do assplay… with each other?”

“Uh… yes,” Taehyung confirms. “We also do lots of other sexual things. That’s… what couples do.”

“Couples?" Hoseok asks, eyes wide. “You guys are a couple?”

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jimin demands, springing to his feed in indignant anger. “We have been married for two fucking years.”

Total silence.

“Wh…aaat?” Hoseok breathes from beside Yoongi, and Namjoon is just silent now.

“You guys were at the goddamn wedding!” Jimin fumes, and Taehyung is just shaking in silent laughter beside him.

“You mean the friendship ceremony?” Hoseok asks, and Jimin throws up his hands in exasperation.

“Wow, you guys are unbelievable!” Jimin exclaims, pacing now. “We have been fucking in the supply closet at least once a week for the past several years. Jungkook, how many times have you walked in on me with Tae’s dick in my mouth?”

“The… brojobs?”

The conversation quickly devolves into confused squabbling, and Yoongi just sits back in his seat, leaning lightly against Jin as the chaos unfolds before him.

“Can I just take this opportunity to say ‘I told you so,’” Jin whispers to him as Jimin and Taehyung re-enact an obvious sex act in way of explanation. When he doesn’t receive a response, he looks at Yoongi quizzically. “Okay, you are like weirdly quiet and chill about this.”

“I already knew,” Yoongi tells him with a small smile. “Or at least I guessed, that time I almost killed Tae in the supply closet. He said something that kind of explained everything that’s happened since 2010. I guess I was willfully blind.”

“Well we’re all guilty of being willfully blind sometimes,” Jin says gently as he entwines their hands together and strokes the skin of Yoongi’s hand with his thumb.

“On my DESK, Tae? Seriously?” Namjoon explodes.

“Hey, it wasn’t just us! They did it, too!” Taehyung defends himself, pointing his finger at Yoongi and Jin, and Yoongi just smirks at the memory. That had been a good day.

“Hey, don’t put this on us,” Jin says calmly. “Raise your hand if you have not had sex on Namjoon’s desk.”

Not a single hand.



Yoongi thinks that Jin has never looked as beautiful as he does in the soft, orange light emitting from the bonfire made from Namjoon’s desk.

“You want to get out of here?” Yoongi asks gently, leaning forward to press his forehead against Jin’s. Jin nods, shutting his eyes and sighing contentedly. “Hey guys, we’re out.”

“What? No way! This is a mandatory post-hours social event,” Hoseok argues, and the marshmallow that he is roasting over the burning leg of the desk busts into flames.

“First of all, that is not a real thing and second of all we are leaving to do something very important and work-related,” Yoongi protests, holding Jin’s hand defiantly. “Accounting Department Stuff. Vital to the functionality of our branch.”

“Say team building,” Namjoon dares him, eyes hard. “Say it.”

Yoongi chews his lip in contemplation. “I was gonna go with Oral Communication Seminar.”

Namjoon collapses into a folding camp chair that someone had dug out of their car. “Go. Just go.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Hoseok calls after them. “What do you say you guys let me film your session for this little HR Training video that I’m working on? Very tasteful. Jimin and Taehyung have already contributed.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘contributed’ so much as I would say that he found our pornhub channel,” Taehyung clarifies as he gently cups Jimin’s butt.

“You literally have a link to it in your email signatures,” Hoseok points out.

“You WHAT?” Namjoon demands, marshmallows spilling from his mouth.

“It’s only for internal branch emails,” Jimin assures them calmly.

“And you did didn’t see this as an HR issue? Or like, a potential lawsuit?” Namjoon groans, now slumped in his lawn chair, head thrown back in despair.

“No,” Hoseok scoffs. “You heard the man. Internal emails only. We’re safe. Like, no one in this branch would rat us out.” After a moment, he adds, “Except Jungkook. Jungkook might rat us out.”

“That’s true, he tried to sell me to a hotdog vendor when he was drunk last week,” Jimin reveals.

“Fuck you, I’m ride or die!” Jungkook says indignantly.

“You are all fired. Every single one of you,” Namjoon tells them very seriously.

“No we’re not,” Hoseok says without shame or hesitation.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with wanting to share our love with our closest friends?” Taehyung says, entwining his fingers with Jimin’s. “Plus, we’re actually married, which makes what we do in those videos basically wholesome.”

Hoseok chokes on a marshmallow that he has jut shoved in his mouth. “I would not call what you were doing to Jimin ‘wholesome.’”

“Hi, can we leave now?” Yoongi asks.

“No,” several voices shout in unison.

“Okay well we are leaving anyway because we are adults who do not require your permission so fuck you guys, and also Hoseok’s sleeve is on fire,” Yoongi informs them, dragging Jin behind him, back into the building so that they can grab their bags from upstairs before they go. Hoseok’s scream echoes off the side of the building, followed shortly by a roar of intense laughter.

They’ve just stepped through the door into their office when Yoongi’s phone chimes.

“Who is it?” Jin asks. “Is it them? Hoseok didn’t actually die, right?”

Yoongi’s brow furrows in confusion. “It’s a blank email from Jimin.”

“A blank email?”

“Yeah there is literally nothing here except- oh.”


“Except his email signature,” Yoongi says evenly, thumb hovering uncertainly over the link.

“Holy shit,” Jin breathes, pulling Yoongi’s hand closer to get a better look. “Hoseok wasn’t kidding. Look. It’s right there.”

Yoongi scoffs but does not move his finger. “Gross… right?”

“Oh, completely.” Jin says just a little too loud. A pause. “Right?”

“Totally,” Yoongi confirms, then quieter, “But like… What do you think he was doing to Jimin?” He looks at Jin, who looks right back.

They have a moment of silent communication, and then Yoongi’s mumbling an unconvincing “Oops” as his thumb clicks the link. There are a few seconds of familiar giggling, then that giggle dissolves into a moan, and they are officially in too deep.

“Is Namjoon’s office still unlocked?” Jin asks casually, eyes trained on the small screen in front of them.

“Yep,” Yoongi says, jaw slack as his eyes are trained unwaveringly on the screen in front of him.

“Do you wanna…” Jin trails off raising his eyebrows suggestively.


“Are you bringing the pho-”


“We are going straight to hel-”