When morning came Hoseok found himself laid sprawled on a couch with his upper torso hanging off the edge, face pressed against the icy cold floors. It took him a decent ten minutes to force his heavy-lidded eyes open and thankfully, he noted, he had all pieces of clothing intact and was residing in his own apartment.

Hoseok was pleased that Yoongi had been kind enough to deposit his drunk, unconscious self back instead of leaving him to freeze on the streets.

With an immense headache Hoseok blindly reached for the coffee table and found his remedy - aspirin that Yoongi never forgets to leave within arm’s reach for him every time Hoseok went overboard with liquor. The pounding in his head made it strenuous, if not impossible, for him to maneuver around. But still Hoseok managed to swallow a couple of pills down before flopping back onto the couch like a ragdoll.

“Thanks Yoongi-bear,” He chuckled softly, sound resonating across his empty apartment.

After a brief stillness Hoseok yawned, struggling to stay awake as if he hadn’t just woken up from a night’s sleep; and at some point he must’ve dozed off.

As quickly as slumber had come over him it dissipated and the tired lad was forcefully roused. Hoseok’s body jolted several times as if he was thrown onto a boat sailing across rough waters. It took some time but soon he was aware of the iron grip on his shoulders, and someone giving it vigorous shakes.

“Oww,” Hoseok groaned, struggling to sit upright. “What?” Rubbing the lingering traces of spit from the corner of his lips, he blinked only to find a slightly annoyed looking Min Yoongi hovering over him with arms crossed and a deep frown etched – as if he were debating whether to pour boiling water over Hoseok to awaken him (which the latter feared he was more than eager to do).

“So I take it that you’re not dead,” Yoongi’s tone was flat as he plainly stated, unamused, “Pity.” And a slight tinge of disappointment was embedded as well, making Hoseok pout at his best friend’s lack of affection.

Still he settled for a wide, cheeky grin nevertheless, “Why good morning to you too, Yoongi-bear. Did you perhaps bring me breakfast?”

“You little shi-” Hearing his words made Yoongi’s brow twitch, voice dropping dangerously low as the older male recalled all the hassle Hoseok had put him through. Dragging his unconscious body all the way back took not only physical strength, but mental strength; having to restrain himself from abandoning Hoseok by the road.

“Ah, ah,” Hoseok waved his index finger in the air like a stern teacher, “No cussing Yoongi-bear. It’s not good for little children. Manners, please.”

Whatever foul words that went through Yoongi’s mind in response to Hoseok’s tease, he chose to swallow it – deeming it futile to argue with an idiot - before commenting, “It’s almost six. Maybe you shouldn’t drink to the point of getting smashed if you in drinking, idiot.”

“And you came to check on me because you were worried?” Hoseok faked a dramatic gasp, “How sweet of you.”

Yoongi had sat down on an opposite chair and swiftly deposited several plastic bags on the table, groaning at the comfort of being able to rest his aching feet. Hoseok was constantly causing trouble for him and looking out for said male was a pain in his rear end. But still, call Yoongi a softy if you must, he wasn’t completely heartless (contrary to popular belief).

“Eat.” Yoongi said nothing more, ignoring the way Hoseok’s face lit up like a child as he dug through the bags to find his favourite takeout – black bean noodles.

Yoongi could spot the smudges of sauce all over Hoseok’s chin but made no remarks, merely grabbed his phone from his pockets and secretively snapped a picture - which would serve as a good laugh when Yoongi was feeling bored.

“Aw man, I owe you one.” Hoseok mumbled with his mouth stuffed full of noodles, “Seriously you’re the best, Yoongi-bear.”

“You owe me more than one, dimwit.” Yoongi did not bother hiding the look of disgust at the sight of Hoseok’s sloppy eating. “How many times exactly have I dragged your drunk, sorry back?”

The question was met with no answer. Merely a chuckle was given.

“But I gotta say all these years of practice did you good,” Hoseok made a brief inspection of his body before continuing, “I mean I don’t see any obvious injuries this time. Remember once I almost had a concussion from you accidentally dropping me on the street? Or the time I had a huge bruise on my face as if someone punched– why are you laughing?”

Yoongi couldn’t contain a snicker upon recalling the events. Because maybe, just maybe he had intentionally let Hoseok sustained those injuries (though he denies ever doing something so heinous with a plastic grin every time the latter brought it up).

“I had help this time.” He settled for a simple reply, though in his mind he couldn't help but question the absence of a certain hyperactive male. When Yoongi arrived, he expected to see the younger still around. But a sigh eluded the moment he found a sleeping Hoseok alone with no signs of anyone else. Who was going to help finish the food he brought over then, Yoongi grumbled.

“From who?”

“Taehyung."

“Taehyung?” A look of utter confusion came into sight as Hoseok questioned, “You mean Taehyung – who I barely know and just properly met last night? Jimin's best friend? That Taehyung?”

“There’s no one else, is there? You really should thank him for helping. I was this close-” Yoongi made a gap less than a centimetre wide with his thumb and index finger, “-to throwing you into the river.”

“Jesus Christ,” Yoongi’s reply left Hoseok burying his face into his hands, terrified beyond belief to recall just what embarrassment he casted upon himself. “Please tell me I didn’t do or say anything stupid-”

“Hoseok.”

The flustered lad reluctantly glanced up, took one sight of Yoongi’s expression and knew. Yup, he most definitely was a mess last night.

“Oh kill me, just kill me.” He continued, silently praying that his life would end at the very moment. Hoseok’s sight roamed the entire apartment, as if he was afraid Taehyung was still around to further witness his humiliation but thankfully, found no signs of another living being besides George – the spider he sometimes catches crawling on the walls but can’t bring himself to exterminate because hey, it’s nice having a companion in his apartment.

“You’re hopeless.” Yoongi rolled his eyes – a gesture Hoseok could easily picture without looking - and huffed in disbelief. “I bet he probably left after being sick of witnessing your stupity first hand.”

“What do I do?” Hoseok lurched forward to kneel before Yoongi, grabing onto the other’s thin shoulders as if clinging for dear life; giving violent shakes that nearly dislocated them.

“Well call him, genius. That’s what phones are for.”

“But what do I say?” Hoseok’s mouth gaped in incredulity (to which Yoongi responded by smacking himself on the forehead).

“Oh, I don’t know. A ‘thank you for helping carry me home and sorry for letting you witness my pathetic drunk state’ seems like a pretty good start.” Yoongi settled for a lazy drawl, leaning against the chair and watching a flustered Hoseok search for his phone.

“Hey I can’t find my pho-” Hoseok let out several urgent huffs and fumbled around for the device, before a loud ring wafted through the living room, sending Hoseok scrambling towards the source.

After circling the room five or ten times and feverishly rummaging through the room, pushing aside stacks of clothing and books, not caring if they remained whole or not, Hoseok eventually pulled out what was most definitely a ringing cell phone buried under a mountain of overdue papers.

“Nevermind, Yoongi-bear. I found it!” Hoseok’s cry would have woken the entire neighbourhood had it not been for the thick walls of his apartment. Not possessing his limitless energy, Yoongi merely chose to monitor Hoseok’s antics from his comfortable, resting position.

The image of Taehyung’s love-struck face engraved a permanent impression in Yoongi’s mind. And though he was no expert, Yoongi could tell that Taehyung’s overflowing affection for Hoseok – who was extremely oblivious - was not to be taken lightly. Yet, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel sorry for the younger. He should’ve fallen in love with anyone besides Jung Hoseok. But who was he to judge? After all Yoongi understood more clearly than anyone that love and logic did not blend well. He himself had-

“Hey, Yoongi-bear.”

As Yoongi was sitting lost in thought, Hoseok had observed the electronic device in hand. It had long stopped emitting rings and was resting on his palm. Though he was not one who paid extreme attention to details, the shiny black object did seem a little odd and unfamiliar.

Hoseok’s face was decorated with a lost, puzzled look.

“This isn’t my phone.” He realised.

……….

When Taehyung mentioned wanting to spend time at Jimin’s apartment after a certain embarrassing incident, the latter expected his best friend to stay over for a day or two. Perhaps watch some anime and drown his sorrows in pizza, crying to his heart’s content before returning back to his hyperactive glory.

After all, every time Taehyung threatened to end his life with a screwdriver it only took that much to cheer him up.

What Jimin did not expect, was Taehyung showing up at his doorstep with fluffy pillows, his favourite blanket, a dozen tubs of strawberry ice-cream, packets of spicy chips, boxes of tissue paper, a huge stuffed teddy that could barely fit through the front door without causing permanent damage, and taking permanent residence in his house.

“What the hell.” Jimin felt a headache coming his way.

Seeing Kim Taehyung standing before him with dishevelled hair, lips curled into a sad pout as tears threatened to spill was sufficient to dismiss Jimin’s urge of slamming the door shut on him even though he really, really needed to get some sleep. But having gone through many tough times himself, Jimin knew how awful it felt for someone to mope alone without company; especially when said someone was Kim Taehyung.

“Really, Tae?” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose, voice coming out tired as he stepped aside for Taehyung to enter; motioning at the sheer amount of stuff he brought, “Why didn’t you bring your entire house?”

“Sorry Jiminnie,” The sniffling lad did not bother taking his shoes off as he trudged into Jimin’s living room, leaving a faint trail of dirt on the carpet before flopping down onto the couch. “I just-” He hiccupped, “-needed some company.”

Evidently, Jimin did not know how to reject or be the slightest bit mean, because he came to pity his best friend (despite Taehyung robbing him from another night’s sleep).

“Alright, alright” Jimin said with a sigh as he shut the front door. He walked over to where Taehyung was, looking at him with soft eyes though he desperately tried, and failed, to remain irritated. His heart was far too forgiving to hold a grudge for more than ten seconds.

“Guess we’ll just have to eat nasty strawberry flavoured ice-cream and watch ‘Finding Nemo’ again for the nth time.”

As soon as Jimin had the movie playing, he planted himself onto the couch subsequently forcing Taehyung – whose large body occupied most of the limited space – to scoot over.

“Cuddles?” Taehyung’s voice was barely a whisper as he stretched both hands and made a grabby motion, ignoring the slight disgust on Jimin’s face. It wasn’t a mystery that Taehyung needed lots, and lots of affection and physical contact when he was feeling down – something Jimin came to learn over the course of their friendship.

And Taehyung, being Taehyung, did not wait for an answer, nor did he spare a second before pulling Jimin into a tight embrace, snuggling against his best friend who sat with him through the entire movie - one hour and forty five minutes of pure torture.

Though he did not say anything, Jimin noticed the way his shoulders slumped, noticed how he looks at the television but does not see, noticed how he was shoving scope after scope of melted ice cream into his mouth and swallowed instead of savouring the taste like he usually does. And this was ample cause to panic as far as Jimin was concerned.

Kim Taehyung probably hated melted ice cream more than he hated the existence of numbers and mathematics.

“So…” Jimin flinched at his terrible attempt of acting ‘casual’. In all honesty Jimin was not planning on starting the conversation; he couldn’t, given how horrible he was at it. But by the 5^th tub of ice cream he figured it was time to address the issue, before Taehyung regurgitated it all out from an upset stomach. “Have you…talked to err-Hoseok?”

The way Taehyung’s lips quivered and hands clutched the plastic container a little tighter upon the mention of said male’s name was evidence that he was most definitely not over the incident.

A single tear was soon followed by a running stream, and Jimin thanked the gods above that at the very least he wasn’t wailing like a dying goat (because that would be extremely embarrassing and difficult to explain to his neighbours).

In the background the pitter patter of rain filled the room but they ignored it as Jimin patted him gently on the back, making sure to continuously offer sheets of tissue in case his snot dirtied the couch. Taehyung continued to swallow more scoops of ice cream while wiping his tears with his free hand.

It was hard to watch, Jimin’s heart swelled with pity, as much as the sight would be funny on any other day. And he honestly had spent much time thinking, wheeling his mind so desperately to seek for any comforting advice that he was certain most of his brain cells did not make it.

There just wasn’t much Jimin could say, he concluded.

“There, there.” Jimin cooed, voice soft as if he were coaxing a baby, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“I-it’s mega-freaking-I’m-going-to-die-screw-my-life bad, Jimin.” Taehyung’s eyes were puffy from all the crying, “I’m n-never going to s-step foot out of here ever again.”

“You can’t just skip classes.” Jimin deadpanned. “Professor Choi is going to fail you or worse – he’s going to tutor you personally. Imagine Tae, hours and hours of maths with him breathing down your neck. Which is more terrible then?”

“I don’t care.”

“What about your phone?” Jimin reasoned with another approach, sighing, “You can’t leave it at Hoseok’s forever. At some point you’ll have to get it back.”

“I’ll j-just buy another.” Taehyung sniffled.

“Tae,” Another sigh elicited as Jimin reached forward, ruffling his best friend’s messy hair, “You can’t just run away and pretend it didn’t happen.” When Jimin wiped the corners of Taehyung’s strawberry-stained mouth, he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Taehyung’s reddish nose, giving it a gentle bop.

“You don’t even know for sure that he knows.” The older offered, “Are you really going to hide from him forever just because you think he does?”

“Maybe.” Taehyung’s whisper was barely audible.

“And just how are you going to disappear from the face of earth?”

Taehyung had no idea. How could he? He was no Einstein.

“You’re going to man up and talk to him, Tae. Do you know why?” This time Jimin did not wait for an answer. “Because I know you never let anything stop you. He might not even have figured it out yet. And even if he did, he could be interested in you too. He did say he was cool with dating a dude after all.”

Taehyung paused to consider Jimin’s words, eyes remaining focused on the nearly emptied tub of ice cream and for a moment, it seemed as if there was more than embarrassment behind those brown orbs.

There was fear.

Taehyung was afraid; afraid of the possibility of Hoseok disliking him or never wanting to speak to him ever again. What a horrible story it would be to tell his children then: rejected before even having confessed.

“Hey,” Jimin, sensing his unusual behaviour, bumped his shoulder against Taehyung’s before leaning closer with an encouraging smile, “Cheer up. You’ve been through worse so don’t jump to conclusions so quickly – just, just talk to him, okay? Or do I have to remind you of all the other times you’ve embarrassed yourself worse?”

“Please don’t.” Jimin’s teasing tone was sufficient to tug on Taehyung’s lips as he started slow and quietly, clearing his throat before blinking the tears away. “It’s not good-” He swallowed and continued, “-to kick a wounded man.”

“Oh please,” Jimin couldn’t stop a snort (and a wide grin as well) from escaping, “Stop being such a drama queen.”

Taehyung pouted, “But I’m your best friend, Jiminnie. I was t-there when you removed your tonsils. You were s-screaming and crying your eyes out at the clinic. Who’s the real drama queen? And remember t-the time-”

“Tae.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung’s brown eyes glistened with slight mischief, reigniting once more after days of sulking. That pleased Jimin; very much.

“On second thought, just shut up and eat your ice-cream.” Jimin grinned as Taehyung resumed his previous position – snuggled tightly against Jimin – yet unlike before, there was a small, permanent smile on the latter’s face.

“Don’t worry.” The older male whispered in a soothing manner, “Everything will be fine.”

“I hope so too.”

………..

As Jimin stepped foot into the café, he was slightly taken aback by the lack of a certain smiling barista’s greeting. Seokjin wasn’t standing behind the wooden counters as usual, much to Jimin’s dismay. He had been hoping to have a quick chat with Seokjin and filling him in with the past couple of day’s events.

Seeing how there wasn’t anyone around to take his order, Jimin was left standing and staring blankly at the menu hovering above with his mouth slightly ajar.

After Taehyung had successfully kept him awake till four in the morning, nearly suffocating Jimin with his lethal snuggle (death hug) and falling off the single bed thanks to Taehyung’s kicking habit, Jimin figured there was no point in trying to fall asleep again. Thus, groggily, he threw some clothes on and decided to head out for a cup of coffee instead – maybe have a cupcake too considering how sore his bum was from the fall.

“What can I get you?” A throaty voice asked, interrupting Jimin’s internal debate of which flavour to pick: red velvet or plain old vanilla.

Jimin lowered his gaze to find a familiar mop of mint-green hair. Standing before him with a lazy, blank stare, dressed in the café’s standard issued green uniform and had both hands shoved into the pockets of his stained (pink - thanks to Seokjin’s insist no doubt) apron was Min Yoongi.

“H-hey,” Hesitantly, Jimin raised his hand, willing himself to offer a small smile as he stared at anywhere besides Yoongi’s eyes. It was no secret Jimin was rather shy; in the absence of Taehyung Jimin found it even more difficult to engage in conversation with someone he barely knew without stuttering.

As Jimin considered the notion of fleeing, Yoongi took a few seconds to blink, before registering the fact that the short male with fluffy black hair before him was someone he knew. In Yoongi’s defence, it was far too early to be awake, let alone being able to recognize someone.

“Oh.” Yoongi made no effort to hide his surprise, “Hey.” He returned a small smile which disappeared no sooner it appeared. “What’re you doing here this early?”

Jimin couldn’t help but fiddle with the hem of his shirt, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he forgot to shave a few strands of facial hair before leaving the house. Please don’t let Yoongi notice, Jimin prayed.

“Ah, I was just err-looking for Jin-hyung.”

“We swapped shifts,” Yoongi explained, carefully dusting off the remnants of what seemed to be cocoa powder off his apron before looking at Jimin once more with his usual lazy gaze, albeit with a little more affection this time. “said he had something to do.”

“Is that so? I best be on my way then. I’ll drop by some other time.” The nervousness embedded in Jimin’s tone was ever evident as he abruptly his heel, making his way out as quickly as possible. Yoongi was on Hoseok’s side - a sudden thought that got Jimin feeling jittery. And that meant he was an enemy too.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” Yoongi’s question brought him to a halt, though the barista’s expression held no ill intention, merely genuine curiosity as to why someone would leave a café empty-handed. After all, the coffee here was top notch and if he were allowed to boast, it was the best in town.

“Right…” Jimin started intelligently, feet slowly shuffling forward towards a waiting Yoongi – who watched him with an amused expression. Jimin supposed he could grab a coffee before retreating to safety. The aromatic fragrance of freshly brewed coffee was impossible to resist after all.

“One Americano, please.” Jimin spoke in a polite manner as Yoongi keyed in the order.

“Anything else?”

Jimin paused to consider his options. An awfully sweet, tempting smell was emitting from the kitchen and tickling his nose. But before he could pinpoint what it was Yoongi casually suggested, “Brownies?”

“Brownies?” Jimin tilted his head. So that’s what it was.

“Helped made it myself,” Yoongi nodded, before adding an “It’s not poisonous, don’t worry” upon noticing Jimin’s raised brow.

“Alright,” Jimin couldn’t help but giggle at the slight tinge of red on Yoongi’s cheek as he explained, struggling to maintain a cool demeanour, “Brownies it is then.”

Once Jimin paid in exact amount, he awkwardly idled for a moment before realising just how weird it was to just stand around. Quickly settling for a seat on one of the stools, he quietly watched as Yoongi went about operating the coffee machine with concentration, albeit a little slower than Seokjin due to the lack of experience.

Looking at him, it suddenly struck Jimin that perhaps Yoongi was aware of Taehyung’s "situation".

Should Jimin just ask him? But what if Yoongi doesn’t know?

“Here.” Yoongi set a cup of steaming Americano before him, a piece of brownie following suit. And he wasn’t lying, the chocolaty dessert indeed smelt heavenly. The barista, upon completing his duty, merely fished his phone out and lazily scrolled through texts and notifications – without any intentions of responding to most of them of course.

Yoongi, to some extent, knows about Taehyung’s stay at Hoseok’s apartment. The only thing Jimin was eager to learn was whether his best friend’s feelings had been discovered by Hoseok yet. But God have mercy, Jimin was no Kim Taehyung. He couldn’t just plainly question the mint-haired male now, could he?

It didn’t take long for Yoongi to notice Jimin’s not-so-sneaky stares, voicing his discomfort once he couldn’t fake nonchalance any longer, “Is there something you want to say?”, though he did not look away from the screen. It was better he didn’t, Yoongi reasoned, given how Jimin seemed to regard eye-contact with distaste.

Jimin was definitely caught off-guard, but he cleared his throat and started slowly, carefully.

“I don’t bite.” Yoongi added as a form of encouragement.

“I…was wondering about Hoseok-hyung.”

“What about him?”

Jimin pondered a little, mustered his courage with a deep breath before continuing, “Did he mention-”

The front doors slammed open loudly behind him, sending his sentence to an abrupt stop; though Yoongi did not seem faze by the sudden intrusion as if he was already expecting someone to crash through. Whirling around Jimin found Hoseok – who was breathing hard while entering the café and walking towards them.

Curious eyes followed Hoseok as he trotted, but no one bothered mentioning the fact that he had nearly dismantled the door, “If you make a scene one more time I’ll flush your sorry down the toilet, hear me?”, except, of course, Yoongi.

“Sorry, Yoongi-bear.” With a cheeky grin, Hoseok mumbled a quick apology before directing his attention towards a frozen Jimin. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Hey, hyung.” The younger male studied him with fidgety eyes, not failing to notice how Hoseok seemed to be looking around – searching. For someone or something, Jimin wasn’t certain.

“Don’t you have morning classes?”

“Oh,” Hoseok’s gaze snapped towards Jimin once more, smiling, “Yeah, I do. But I had to drop by first. I was hoping to catch you here in fact.” He casually stated - as if he was commenting on the weather - yet it sufficed in increasing Jimin’s heartbeat by tenfold.

Was he here because of Taehyung?

“It doesn't matter. No amount of education can save his brains anyways,” Yoongi piped in, earning a disapproving grunt from Hoseok - to which he responded with rolling eyes before retreating back to the kitchen, claiming that he had dishes to attend to, Leaving Jimin and Hoseok alone.

Jimin hoped the other couldn't tell that he was sweating buckets despite the crisp weather.

“So, Jimin.” Hoseok turned and fixed him a serious stare – one the younger never had the pleasure of witnessing before. He wasn’t sure if it was safe for him to breathe. To his surprise, Hoseok nervously  his lips and averted his eyes, finding a sudden interest in the ceiling before continuing, “I needed to err- well talk to you.”

“W-what for?” Jimin had a tough time maintaining his composure.

Hoseok's voice dropped a little lower, "It's-"

Oh dear lord, please spare me the agony.

“It’s…about Taehyung.”

Jimin’s prayers were sincere. But as usual nobody, besides Jimin, heard his own desperate plea.