With the night racing by in a blur, the streets gradually emptied as everyone made their way home.

“I can’t believe they charged us 30000Won for a pot of seaweed soup,” The anger in a certain fuming, blonde-haired male by the name of Seokjin was ever evident as he trudged, “It didn’t even taste good. All they did was dump salt in, mixed it with water and tadah-”

Trailing closely behind him, Namjoon couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the adorable sight – namely Seokjin - as he reached forward for his lover’s (a word he still had trouble pronouncing aloud) hand. With their fingers laced, the warmth rendered Seokjin’s anger slightly dissipated. Though he was still, beyond frustrated at the thought of their first date formally as a couple being ruined by a horrible dinner.

“It’s alright, hyung.” Namjoon gave him his signature grin, one that made the younger’s eyes turn into crescents and left rows of perfect teeth showing; one that Seokjin came to fall head over heels for. “I really don’t mind eating salt if it’s with you.”

Because truth be told, Namjoon could not care less for everything else, let alone food. In fact he had been trying to recall what their dinner tasted like, given how he was preoccupied with marvelling over Seokjin all the while eating. Watching the older savour his food, smiling when it suited his pallet and squinting whenever it did not was in Namjoon’s opinion, the most beautiful sight ever witnessed. And Namjoon could stare all day.

“Still, they ruined your favourite dish.” Seokjin may grumble with a slight pout, but his heart was more or less melted by Namjoon’s loving gesture. He did feel somewhat guilty being the one who chose to dismiss the pages of bad online reviews, suggesting said lousy restaurant that was apparently known for its “beyond this world” seaweed soup.

“They why don't you make it for us the next time instead? I’m sure it’ll taste a million times better that any fancy restaurant.” Namjoon chuckled.

“I wouldn’t bet on it if I were you, but I could always try.” Seokjin’s laugh was hearty as he tightened his grip on Namjoon’s hand, grateful for the warmth of their skins during a chilly night.

Maybe it was Namjoon’s never faltering smile which made his stomach churn, or maybe it was because he had someone who loves him by his side, or maybe it was the fact that Namjoon brought joy to even the simplest things (a horrible dinner for example), or maybe it was due to the firm grip the younger had on his hand which was equally reassuring and tender, but Seokjin felt like the luckiest person on earth at the moment.

Everything else was left insignificant, and he couldn’t help but shuffle closer till there wasn’t an inch of space between them as they walked – just the way both of them liked it to be.

“I would offer to help,” The sheepishness in Namjoon’s voice painted a tinge of red on his cheeks as he coughed, “but I err-well…I tend to create more trouble than actually help. Especially in the kitchen.”

“It’s alright,” Seokjin smiled, “I’ll teach you. By the time we’re done, you’ll be a certified chef.”

“I’d love that, hyung.” It was comforting that Seokjin did not find him an obstruction; with him breaking kitchenware and dangerously close to chopping his hands off all the time, most people would. Namjoon thinks he might even get rid of his title as a walking destroyer with the older male’s guidance.

“Someday we’ll have dinner at my place,” Seokjin giggled upon Namjoon’s bright grin and eyes lit like a puppy, though he couldn’t help but sound slightly hesitant as he continued, “Or maybe…we can go to yours instead?”

Almost instantly, just like Seokjin half-predicted, the ear-splitting grin of Namjoon’s was wiped into oblivion as a small, barely visible frown formed. Seokjin noticed. He always does. The way Namjoon would recoil whenever they talked, or even mention anything personal about him - whenever Seokjin took one step too large.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin’s gaze wavered a little while he studied the younger’s peculiar expression, breath hitched as he patiently waited for a response.

Over the brief period of dating, the barista had come to learn that his boyfriend was a fantastic listener – who never judges or criticizes, who listens attentively and offers occasional advices that sounded far too mature for his age. Seokjin had teasingly called him an old man multiple times, each earning a blush and shy smile from the younger. For someone who never has abundant opportunities to voice his thoughts and vent – perks of being a barista – Seokjin was ever grateful for him always lending a listening ear.

But Namjoon does not allow Seokjin to do the same for him.

Every time the older coaches him to talk, to tell Seokjin more about himself, Namjoon would not so subtly - awkwardly almost - divert the conversation elsewhere, choosing to discuss any matters non-related to him. And it puzzled Seokjin as to why Namjoon would fear the idea of opening up to such extent. He had always thought that a relationship was about getting to know one another better. Perhaps Namjoon was afraid? Seokjin didn’t know.

Thus one could understand why the older had excitedly dragged Namjoon for seaweed soup as soon as acquiring the rare knowledge that it was his favourite. After all, Seokjin knows virtually nothing about him.

“Yeah,” Whatever it was bothering him, Namjoon swallowed it anyways as the cloud of hesitation behind his eyes disappeared in a blink, “Yeah maybe…someday.”

Seokjin wanted to press for an explanation, to offer comfort like Namjoon always does, but he did not. He couldn’t bring himself to, and would never, pressure Namjoon into anything he wasn’t comfortable with yet.

Instead Seokjin convinces himself that they just needed more time, that it was Namjoon’s first relationship thus the need for a slow pace, that everything was well; and the warm, thankful smile that Namjoon gave him helps reinforce the argument. That was, as Seokjin thought, more than enough for him at the moment.

……….

If Jimin had access to a time machine, he would definitely travel back into time and made himself stay home, watch some anime and perhaps order ‘jjajangmyeon’ takeout. Yet reality was harsh; and no, he did not have said machine that has yet to be invented. So instead, he remained squished at a small corner table in some restaurant downtown with four other males – who most he was not keen to encounter, let alone have dinner with.

This definitely did not go according to plan, Jimin thought. It was supposed to be a set-up date for Hoseok and Taehyung; with Jimin unintentionally bringing Taehyung along, and suddenly recalling that he had important matters to settle and thus leaving both of them alone while he went home and enjoyed the comforts of peace. Yet somehow his genius plan ended up as a ‘vital celebration’ instead, as insisted by Hoseok who dragged everyone along leaving no room for discussion.

Jimin hated crowded places. They left him feeling jittery for some reason. If it weren’t for Taehyung – who gave his balled fist occasional squeezes – Jimin would have long bolted out the doors, fleeing for his life. Nervously, he studied his companions and found Hoseok sitting across the table, stuffing food into his mouth and carrying on a conversation with Yoongi (a.k.a Jimin’s source of embarrassment), and Jungkook (a.k.a the stranger he had tackled onto the ground).

“I can’t believe-” Jimin winced as Hoseok shoved another piece of beef into his already stuffed mouth, and had to wash down his disgust by sipping on tea. “-that all this time all of us knew each other in some way.” Hoseok said in a loud, affirming voice, like he was talking to someone across the room even though they were barely a meter apart, “That’s freaking awesome! I mean I thought it would only happen in mov-”

“Yah,” Yoongi, who sat beside him, piped in with slight annoyance written all over his frown, “Chew before you speak. You’re spitting everywhere.”

“Sorry about that, Yoongi-bear.” Hoseok leaned in with an apologetic grin, though it was still debatable whether said male had any intention of piping down; given the way he bounced in excitement, chugging down glass after glass of soju and practically unable to sit still.

Jimin, as always, doesn’t miss the way Taehyung’s leg twitches slightly under the table at the mention of Yoongi’s (embarrassing) nickname, as a forced, plastic smile stayed plastered on the latter’s face all night. It could fool anyone but Jimin; and Yoongi.

“Whatever,” Clearing his throat twice, Yoongi shoved his friend away before throwing a look of disapproval, “Just watch it with your alcohol.”

On usual occasions, he’d be the one downing bottles of soju. Yet whenever Hoseok was feeling exceptionally jovial and decides to consume alcohol, Yoongi would simple sip on his single glass instead. Just in case a drunk Hoseok decides to embarrass himself (like the time he cried while moon-walking on the table), there would be at least one person sober enough to drag him home.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” Hoseok dismissed his concern and proceeded to throw an arm over his shoulder, whining something about Yoongi behaving like a nagging mother while the mint-haired male ignored him, completely unaware of a slightly frowning Taehyung.

“You okay, Tae?” Jimin turned to his right, searching for any indications that Taehyung wanted to leave as he whispered with concern.

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s face clouded over, “Not really but...I mean, yeah.”

Though Hoseok had formally introduced Yoongi as his best friend since preschool, still it bothered Taehyung how they were extremely close. He knew he was being absurd, considering how he acts the same with Jimin. But one can never blame a man in love for being paranoid; not with the way Hoseok casually leans in to Yoongi and fawns over him openly like that.

It was only a slight twitch of his brow when Taehyung watched Hoseok ruffle Yoongi’s hair, but to Jimin, it was a sign of catastrophe. The last time Kim Taehyung was jealous - which was over the fact that he did not get as much whipped cream on his pancakes as compared to other customers – Jimin had to suffer days of Taehyung’s whining and grumbling.

This, Jimin didn’t think he was going to live through.

Jimin nudged him slightly on the rib, throwing Taehyung a quick look that contained both concern and reprimand. Taehyung knew that he was over-thinking as usual, and that his worries were unnecessary, so he gradually wills himself to smile instead – a half gummy grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn't as bright as his usual, but it was better than him having his lips pursed.

“So, Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin starts, throwing another glance at Taehyung before continuing, “Tae here was telling me how he’s interested in learning to dance.”

The surprised male nearly choked on kimchi as his eyes widened, “I am?” Though Taehyung caught on as soon as Jimin’s not-so-gentle stomp landed on his foot, “I mean err-yes?”

As expected, the mere mention of the word dance perked Hoseok’s interest, the forgotten spoon of rice left suspended in midair as he spoke, “Really?! That’s great!” Taehyung did not know to be glad that Hoseok finally diverted his attention to the younger, or to strangle Jimin for pushing him into the lion’s den when he was fully aware that Kim Taehyung cannot, for his life, dance. There was something about moving his limbs and left-right coordination that made his brains stop functioning. 

“You could join the club!” Taehyung doesn’t miss the excited glint in Hoseok’s eyes as he suggested, before jerking his thumb to his left, “With our Jungkookie here. He’s joining too, isn’t that right?”

Jungkook – who had kept himself preoccupied with grilling their beef and eating – had silently prayed with fingers crossed that Hoseok wouldn’t bring said matter up. After weeks of coming after him, following him everywhere and even resorting to bribing him with food, Jungkook figured Hoseok would at least have the decency to give him a day’s break. But nope, Jung Hoseok was, much to his dismay, far too persistent.

“I haven’t agreed yet, hyung.” Jungkook coughed, keeping his eyes low and ignoring the puppy eyes Hoseok gave him, “I said I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, come on!” Hoseok whined, “It’s been what? 2 weeks? Nobody takes that long to decide on something.”

“Maybe if you did, you would have avoided a lot of troubles in the past.” Yoongi settled for a drawl, “Remember the time you decided on a whim to get a tat-”

The alarm in Hoseok’s expression was almost hilarious as he immediately clamped Yoongi’s mouth, “Alright, point taken! Let’s just eat!"

Though the glare he shot Jungkook which clearly meant ‘I’m-not-done-with-you-brat-you’re-not-escaping’ was not exactly subtle, still Jungkook celebrated his momentary victory with a mouthful of tea. The younger made sure to leave a large piece of grilled beef for his mint-haired saviour as a form of gratitude.

So Jungkook was the one Hoseok had mentioned, Jimin thought, chuckling to himself. He didn’t take Jungkook as one who fancied dancing judging by his appearance, but he supposed looks are often deceiving. As if he could feel someone watching, Jungkook looked up and their eyes met briefly; before Jimin abruptly turned away, coming to his senses that staring at someone was deemed the universal act of being creepy.

For some odd reason, Jimin – who has always been extremely shy with strangers – did not find it a problem staring into the younger’s pair of dark orbs. In fact, they brought peace. Jungkook, on the other hand, thought the way Jimin’s mouth puffed up like a squirrel while he chewed was beyond adorable. Though he didn’t think it was polite to point said fact out, considering how technically Jimin was older, so he settled for a silent chuckle instead.

“So what about you, Taehyung?” Not having his way obviously left Hoseok pouty, but he let it go for the moment and turned towards Taehyung and grinned, “You up for it?”

“W-well I don’t know,” The ever-confident Taehyung’s gaze was lowered, “I mean I dance like a frog and-”

“It’s alright!” Hoseok patted himself on the chest proudly, “I’ll teach you! And besides, you come to watch our practice so often, I already considered you as a member.” To say Taehyung was blushing, was an understatement. The flustered lad was at least a few shades redder than a ripe tomato.

“Hoseok-hyung is a great teacher, Tae.” Jimin coaxed, “You’ll be fine.”

“I-I guess if it isn’t too much trouble then.” Taehyung’s chest felt constricted as his heart pumped furiously looking at Hoseok’s face lit with excitement, overjoyed with the arrival of a new member. Hoseok continued to babbler on about how Taehyung was going to have so much fun, and how he was going to see just how great of a dancer Hoseok was and yada yada. No one was really listening, except Taehyung of course – who couldn’t stop grinning the entire night.

And Jimin could finally sigh in relief, knowing he had at the very least not screwed everything up, and actually managed to save the day (well it wasn’t much, but still it was progress). Poor Jimin felt like a sloth; burnt from having played cupid. And he looked forward to nothing but a good night’s rest – though he did not know it was not going to happen.

……….

Min Yoongi was going to commit a murder.

“I swear,” Yoongi huffed, feeling his muscles burn, “Someday. Someday I-I’m going to ditch him and-“ A soft obscene word eluded from his lips, “-and let him die.”

Taehyung wanted to agree, laugh or slap Yoongi on the back, but he couldn’t. Not with a passed out Hoseok currently relying on both their support. So he settled for a strangled, forced chuckle instead as he tightened his grip around Hoseok’s waist, attempting to bear more of said male’s weight. Though it did not lessen Yoongi’s burden much given the younger’s thin frame (and Hoseok dead set on making life miserable by squirming ever so often).

“H-how far?” Taehyung was dragging his feet with each step, and Yoongi wasn’t exactly in any better form as beads of sweat trickled down both boys’ foreheads.

“Just around the corner,” Yoongi’’s voice was barely audible with the heavy panting, hand shakily raised to motion towards the single building less than a few yards away. “Second floor, third from the right.”

After a good amount of time tripping, nearly rolling off the stairs and actually successfully making it all the way to Hoseok’s front door (without any further casualties other than a couple of bruises), Yoongi reached for his back pocket and fished out a spare key, not bothering to wake the drunk male up for his own set of keys. And Taehyung would have questioned Yoongi for being in possession of such an item, if it weren’t for Hoseok’s weight crushing him with every passing second of them standing outside.

Kicking the front door open, both males struggled to take their shoes off and Hoseok whined while they tried to help him with his, arms flailing like a child throwing a tantrum. It earned a glare from Yoongi who vowed to throw him off the building if he didn’t stay still, which Hoseok even in his drunk state, knew that Yoongi was serious.

“S-s-sorry, Yoooongi-bearrrr,” Hoseok’s words were slurred, squished into a line which barely made any sense.

They couldn’t find the strength to drag Hoseok all the way to his bed, thus leaving him on the next best alternative instead – the couch. Yoongi muttered to himself as he ransacked Hoseok’s messy kitchen – which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a century – for some aspirin while Taehyung brought some blankets out and carefully draped them over Hoseok.

Carefully brushing his bangs out of his face, Taehyung gently ran his fingers through the older male’s hair in soothing motions, earning satisfied hums from Hoseok while he slept. Taehyung couldn’t suppress a smile upon gazing at his relaxed expression - a contrast to the usual wide grin he has plastered on.

“Here,” Came Yoongi’s voice, and moments later Taehyung heard him setting a box down onto the coffee table behind him. “The idiot will need them in the morning after 6 freaking bottles of soju.” Yoongi flopped onto a nearby chair, resting his sore limbs while eyeing Hoseok, “It would be best if you made him some hangover soup tomorrow-oh but leave the onions out. He hates them.”

Taehyung fell silent, but nodded anyways. “You…” He trailed, “seem to know a lot about him. Not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing. It’s great. Err, you know. ”

Yoongi didn’t reply immediately, instead he let his gaze drop onto his lap. And Taehyung couldn’t help but be bothered, gradually inching his head around to glance at the mint-haired male. He had expected Yoongi to have a look of disgust on, retorting that no way in hell was he close to someone so annoying and dismiss Taehyung’s concern; but instead he found the latter’s eyes dark; as if clouded by something Taehyung couldn’t quite make up.

But whatever it was, Yoongi had no problem hiding it with a lazy shrug and a wave of his hand, “We’ve just-unfortunately-known each other for a long time. Trust me, this idiot-“ He motioned at the still Hoseok, “He’s perfect for you.”

Taehyung doesn’t answer his remark, but still a slight tinge of red coats his cheeks. “It was that obvious, huh?”

“Very.” Yoongi chuckled, “Pretty sure everyone but Hoseok realises.”

“Do you think there’s a chance he’ll…like me?” Fiddling nervously with his fingers, Taehyung sneaked hopeful glances - ones that made Yoongi impossible to ignore and tease.

“Yes.” Though his response was curt, simple, it sufficed in leaving a bright smile on the younger’s face anyways. “Hoseok’s…a bit of a pain in the , but he’s a decent guy.” The smile Yoongi has on was by far, the sincerest one Taehyung had laid eyes on; though it only lasted for a brief second before it disappeared, a laid-back expression taking over once more.

“Well, I’m off.” Yoongi stood and stretched, groaning as his bones made crackling noises, “I have work tomorrow. I’ll leave him in your care then. Good luck.” The mint-haired male slowly made his way out, but came to a halt halfway through the door. “Take care of Hoseok,” Yoongi said, and for a moment Taehyung thought he looked like he had something more to say, but the older simply whirled around and left, gently shutting the doors behind him.

Silence fell in the apartment.

Fishing out his phone, Taehyung sent a quick text to Jimin letting him know that he would be spending the night at Hoseok’s (not forgetting to include lots of heart emojis and using all capitalised letters in his text of course). Sneakily, he even took a quick selfie with the sleeping male. It would be Taehyung’s greatest treasure from that day forth, should anyone ask. He did, felt a tiny bit of guilt for taking advantage of the situation.

But really, when was he ever going to get a picture this close with Hoseok if not now?

At the sound of the camera shutter, Hoseok stirred in his sleep and thrashed a little, “W-water…”

“Hold on,” The soft plea made Taehyung immediately bolt for the kitchen, but said male was stopped when a firm grip held onto his wrist, jerking him backwards.

“Whereee are eu’ going?” Hoseok peeked through half-opened eyes, smiling at him and Taehyung had to remind himself that oxygen was vital for survival, and so was breathing.

Taehyung pried his hand off slowly, “I’m going to get you some water. Wait a bit, okay?”

“No,” Hoseok pouted like a child, “Stay.” He commanded. Feeling defeated, Taehyung had no option but to sit on the floor by Hoseok’s side. And the older hummed in content, grinning like a happy baby with his wish fulfilled.

“How are you feeling, Hoseok?” Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a soft, hearty laughter.

The dazed male stared at Taehyung as his words came out in a blurry rush of barely distinguishable syllabuses, “Good. Butwhy…whyareyoucallingmeHoseok?”

“What am I supposed to call you then?” Taehyung quirked his brow.

“Hobi!” The older male was thrown into a giggling frenzy, as if Taehyung’s question was the most ridiculous thing ever heard on earth. “You always call me Hobiiii.”

“Alright then, Hobi, go to sleep.” Taehyung chuckled upon seeing Hoseok yawn and rubbing his eyes.

“Promise youu won’t leave?”

“I won’t.” Taehyung felt his heart race, nodding, “I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” The smile on Hoseok’s face was so wide, it’d probably leave a permanent impression on.

“Goodnight,” Hesitantly, afraid that it might alarm him (considering how they were technically less than friends – probably acquaintances), Taehyung reached forward and gently Hoseok’s cheek; and the latter melted into his warm touch.

“Goodnight…” Hoseok giggled once more, voice trailing.

“…Yoongi-bear…”

The soft snores of his that followed were the only sound heard. And though Hoseok's whisper had been soft, it pierced through the still night and Taehyung was certain, his heart fell and stopped beating for a second.