For mingoyoongi.

“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”
― Hermann Hesse

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Hoseok was less than five seconds away from swiping his badge, clocking out, and gaining sweet, sweet freedom from the hell that was E-Mart. So close, when the sharp, but still overly perky voice of his shift manager cut through his bliss with a sadistically cheerful,

“Hoseok-sshi, did you finish those two pallets of housewares? The ones that first shift left in Zone B?”

Hoseok sighed, badge poised in his hand above the scanner, wishing he hadn’t taken the time to piss before heading for the time clock. If only, if only he’d already managed to clock out, then he could put on his best apologetic face and promise to get it done in the morning. But as it was, there was no getting out of it, so he turned to his manager and bowed quickly,

“I’m sorry, sunbaenim, I’ll do it before I go.”

So that was how he found himself spending an extra two hours on the floor unloading microwaves, of all things, onto a sales display because apparently someone had ed up and ordered, like, way more microwaves than they usually sell in a month just to fill a couple of outs on the shelves, so now they were having a sale on microwaves. Apparently.

It was also how he found himself missing his usual bus, and the bus after that, and the bus after that until it was already pushing midnight and he was fairly certain that the next bus was the last bus and even if he sprinted to the bus stop he’d still miss it. Which meant he had to call a cab.

A cab that would eat up the extra bit of cash he’d just earned by working two hours past when he usually got off.

When the cab pulled up outside, he threw himself into the back seat and rattled off Jimin’s address. He let his eyes slide closed, intent on getting a few minutes of sleep, even if it was just thirty minutes of being bounced around on the busted up back seat of the cheapest cab belonging to the cheapest cab company he could find, breathing in stale air that smelled suspiciously like sweat and really ty weed.

The cab pulled up in front of Jimin’s building and Hoseok smiled a bit to himself when he spotted the single lamp shining dimly through the thin curtains of Jimin’s window. He’d texted the younger man, letting him know he’d be in a lot later than expected and not to wait up for him. He should have know the kid wouldn’t listen to him.

He used the key on his lanyard, not wanting to bother Jimin with asking to be buzzed in, and trudged up the stairs to Jimin’s third floor apartment. He punched in the combo on the keypad underneath the knob and let himself inside.

Jimin’s place was his home away from home. The studio apartment was warm, inviting, with Jimin’s big fluffy bed in one corner, a deceptively comfy futon in front of a packed entertainment center with enough space for Jimin to dance, and a little cafe style table, with a couple of rickety old chairs Hoseok was ninety-nine percent certain were going to fall to pieces under his while he tried to eat breakfast one of these days, cozied up to the kitchenette.

It was much more welcoming than Hoseok’s own apartment. Up until recently he’d shared it with Taehyung but now, more often than not, he shared it with Taehyung and Taehyung’s-new/old-boyfriend-who-didn’t-like-to-wear-pants Jeon Jeongguk.

Hoseok toed his shoes off at the door, placing them carefully on the shoe rack before hanging his coat and bag in the closet. He could see the coppery tuft of Jimin’s hair sticking up out of the cocoon he’d made of the duvet and smiled softly to himself, taking a moment to just pause and listen to the gentle in and out of Jimin’s easy breathing in his sleep. He tugged his hoodie over his head, tossing it and his shirt on the futon on his way by, before stopping by the edge of the bed to shimmy out of his pants. He left them in a crumpled pile on the floor, taking off his watch, rings, and the simple chain he wore around his neck, tossing them on the dresser next to the bed.

He tugged the covers back, sliding into bed to wrap an arm around Jimin’s middle, completely content with the idea of holding the younger man close and falling right to sleep. Jimin huffed in his half-asleep state, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand, rolling in Hoseok’s arms to press a soft, gentle kiss against the bow of his mouth, all without opening his eyes.

“Hyung..” He murmured, “Wha’time issit?”

“It’s almost one o’clock in the morning, Minnie, go back to sleep.” Hoseok cooed, pursing his lips to return the kiss. Jimin sighed, snuggling further into his arms, his head settling just over Hoseok’s heart.

“How was work?” Jimin asked, eyes still stubbornly shut.

“Terrible. I hate it.” Hoseok pouted, he buried his face in the top of Jimin’s head, inhaling languidly, filling his lungs with the gentle aroma of peaches. “I like your new shampoo.”

Jimin smiled into Hoseok’s chest, raising a sleep heavy arm to gently flick the end of the older man’s nose. “That’s the third time you’ve said that this week.”

“So?” Hoseok grinned, hands roaming aimlessly down the expanse of Jimin’s back.

“So, I just bought it on Monday. It’s Wednesday. That’s a lot of shampoo sniffing.”

Hoseok laughed quietly, a deep rumble in his chest that made Jimin blush faintly and snuggle in closer just so he could hear it better,

“So. Work was terrible, huh?”

“The worst. I came in and was immediately presented with a giant list of that I had to get done, and they barely gave me any time to do it. I had to cut my lunch in half to finish it on time, and right before I got out the door my of a manager caught me and sent me back out onto the floor to clean up a mess someone else made.”

“Sounds like bull.” Jimin said around a yawn.

“Absolute bull. E-Mart is the devil. They’re evil incarnate. I’m gonna quit.”

“You say that all the time.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’ve been saying that for three years.”

Hoseok groaned, wrapping his arms around Jimin, squeezing him tightly against his chest. “Respect your hyung, brat.”

Jimin wheezed out a laugh, letting Hoseok roll them around in the bed until he came to a stop on his back, Jimin sprawled out on top of him in a giggling mess.

Jimin sat up, straddling Hoseok’s hips as he glared down at him.

“I was sleeping .” He pointed out, folding his arms across his chest.

“No one said you had to sit up.” Hoseok patted his chest, “I have heard from numerous, very reliable sources that I make an excellent pillow.”

Jimin snorted, sliding over his ridiculous blob of a boyfriend, feet hitting the floor with a quiet thump. 

“I’m going to get a glass of water, want some?”

Hoseok nodded, rolling over onto his side to bury his face in the pillow. He listened, a small smile on his face, as Jimin puttered around the kitchenette, filling a glass with water from the fridge before padding back across the room to nudge the cool glass against the back of Hoseok’s head.

“Here you go, you big baby.”

Hoseok took the glass and drank it gratefully, setting it on the bedside table before holding the covers up and wiggling his eyebrows at Jimin suggestively.

“Oh no, not tonight. I have class in the morning.”

“I just want to cuddle, .” Hoseok said, the picture of innocence. "I have to work at seven."

Jimin rolled his eyes, climbing over Hoseok to get back to his side of the bed. Hoseok immediately smooshed himself into Jimin’s side, looking up at him with big imploring eyes. Jimin let out an exasperated sigh,

“What?” He asked, trying and failing to keep the fondness out of his voice.

“Play with my hair?” Hoseok asked, just the tiniest bit of aegyo seeping into his words. “Just for a minute, not even until I fall asleep.”

“Spoiled.” Jimin murmured, already carding his fingers through Hoseok’s soft, dark hair. Hoseok sighed, happiness radiating from every inch of his body.

“You love me.”

“I do. I love you, very much.”

“Gross.”

“You just said-” Jimin sputtered.

“No one said you had to respond.” Jimin could feel Hoseok smiling into his side, and he tugged gently at the older man’s hair in retaliation. Hoseok yelped at the unexpected tingle of pain before chuckling,

“Baby, if you wanna get rough all you have to do is ask.”

“And you say I’m gross.”

“The grossest.” There was a sleepy edge to Hoseok’s voice now, and Jimin could feel the tendrils of his interrupted sleep beginning to wrap around his limbs to pull him back under again.

“Hoseokie..” He said softly, fingers still gliding through the soft tresses of the older man’s hair. The man in question jerked against his side in that way people do when they’re trying to keep themselves from falling asleep.

“Mm?” Hoseok responded, shoving his head further into Jimin’s armpit because, wow, that was romantic. Jimin hesitated for just a moment before asking,

“Do you really want to quit your job at the store?”

“More than I want to continue breathing, baby.” Hoseok sighed just at the thought. No more back-to-back shifts, no more heavy lifting that messed with his back no matter how much he followed the ‘proper lifting guidelines’ posted on every flat surface in the store rooms, no more crazy high schoolers messing up the shelves and college freshmen doing the absolute minimum amount of work because they were just there part time once a week to make a little extra cash leaving him to pick up their slack. “But I can’t afford my rent without the second job. Teaching my classes only gets me so far.”

“You work so hard.” Jimin said, frowning. “You have school, too. Isn’t it a lot?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Jiminie. I’m fine.”

And he was fine. He'd been fine and he'd continue to be fine. He'd just continue to be fine while also wanting to rip the arms off that one kid in the store room who was suppose to be stacking pallets but instead was always hiding behind the mountains of he was suppose to be working on, texting.

“But you’re so close to graduating.” Jimin pressed, wrapping strands of Hoseok’s hair around his fingers to make little curls that he knew Hoseok would squawk at the moment he got out of bed in the morning and caught sight of his hair.  “I saw the calendar in your phone, hyung. You have like three papers due by the end of the month. Have you started any of them?”

“I have time..” He did have time. About fifteen minutes between when his Advanced Choreography class ended and he had to run across the building to teach his Principles of Movement class. Twenty minutes he could add to his schedule if he skipped stopping for breakfast in the morning and just got coffee. He had time to do his research in his Senior Thesis Preparation time, but that just meant, well, he wouldn't be able to focus on his thesis. Still, he had time. It was just a matter of finding it first.  

“When?” Jimin asked, poking his finger into the dimple that appeared above the corner of Hoseok’s mouth when he frowned.

“Later.”

Jimin was quiet for a moment and Hoseok was just about to drop off the edge of sleep again when he spoke,

“If you quit your job, you’d have more time.”

Hoseok groaned, flopping away from Jimin to lay on his stomach, kicking his feet petulantly, face buried in the sheets. He chose to ignore Jimin’s quiet giggle.

“This is a very circular conversation, babe. I can’t quit my job. I have to pay my rent.”

“What if you didn’t have to make rent?” Hoseok felt Jimin shift next to him, the mattress dipping as the younger man rose up on his elbow to gaze down at the back of his head, but Hoseok resolutely refused to turn his head and make eye contact, even if he was getting a little light headed from breathing in his own carbon dioxide.

“Taehyungie can’t make rent on his own, Jimin-ah.” He replied, words muffled by wads of bedding.

“I wasn’t suppose to tell you this…” Jimin said. He sounded unsure, like he was picking his words carefully, so Hoseok stuck a hand out, searching for his boyfriend blindly before the younger man took pity on his flailing appendages and laced their fingers together easily, “Gukkie’s lease is up. They were trying to figure out how to ask you if it was okay if he moved in-”

Hoseok snorted, “What? You mean he hasn’t already?”

“-for real.” Jimin spoke over him and Hoseok grinned into the cotton of Jimin’s ridiculously expensive sheets because, wow, he could practically feel that eye roll; such sass. “If he moved in for real. Started paying rent. Jeonggukie is in school on a scholarship, you know. He doesn’t have to pay hardly any tuition, he’s got money to burn. He’s more than capable of helping Tae with the rent.”

Hoseok frowned, raising up onto his elbows to finally face his crazy boyfriend, fingers still laced together. He ran his thumb over Jimin’s knuckles absentmindedly,

“It a nice thought, but I can’t ask Guk to pay my part of the rent just so I can quit my ty job.”

“But what if he was just paying his part of the rent?” Jimin asked, looking at Hoseok like he was saying something really obvious other than ‘Jeongguk can totally pay rent’ that Hoseok wasn't getting.

“You’re not making any sense, babe..”

Jimin sighed, squirming around on the bed to sit cross legged amidst the tousled sheets and blankets. He stared at Hoseok for a moment, seemed to be searching his face for something and Hoseok looked back, trying to keep his expression as open and genuine as he could because, wow, Jimin was up to something.

Finally, Jimin seemed to make a decision. He took a deep breath and said rather seriously, though the seriousness of his tone was ruined a bit by the nickname that slipped out with it,

“Hoseokie-hyung.”

“Yes, Park Jimin?" Hoseok asked, mimicking the younger man's tone.

“Move in with me.”

Well.

Hoseok blinked at Jimin, only just realizing that in his shock he'd pushed himself up onto his hands and he was now laying in bed, Little Mermaid style, staring at his boyfriend. His boyfriend who was staring right back at him, the hopefulness in his eyes quickly turning into nerves and panic the longer it took Hoseok to respond.

Right. He should be saying something.

He cleared his throat,

“Uh, Jiminie…” He sat up the rest of the way, folding his legs underneath him to face his very distressed boyfriend who was now staring at his hands in his lap instead of at Hoseok’s face. “I dunno if… I mean, that’s a lot for two o'clock in the morning, don't you think?”

All the air seemed to woosh out of Jimin’s lung in one go, Hoseok could practically see him deflate and he felt terrible.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about moving in with Jimin. About them getting their own place, somewhere dog friendly so he could finally get Mickey back from his sister. Someplace where their bedroom wasn't also their kitchen so they could keep make curry without their sheets smelling like onions until laundry day rolled around again. Someplace where the shower was big enough for both of them, with a tub so Jimin could actually take a bath when he over did it and his muscles were sore because he never knew when to quit; someplace that actually had enough water pressure to wash the sweat off their skin and enough hot water so that they didn't have to play rock, paper, scissors to decided who got to freeze their balls off on the mornings they both had somewhere they needed to be.

Someplace that they could make a home together, because honestly when he thought about it, there was no one he'd rather come home to every day than Park Jimin.

That didn't mean the idea of doing something so permanent didn't scare the ever loving out of him.

Hoseok wasn't ashamed to admit that he needed space. He knew he got cranky sometimes, that he could be an absolute terror to be around when he was in the right mood. He also knew he could be… a lot to handle sometimes. He had boundless energy and he couldn't always use it productively. He got jittery and loud and he hated the thought of Jimin being stuck with him when he was like that. When he was in either mode, really. He hated the idea of Jimin being buffeted between his highs and his lows with no place to escape to, no place that he could call his own. And the worst part was, he knew Jimin would endure it. Because he loved him. Hoseok knew, one hundred percent without a doubt, that Jimin wouldn't ask for a break when he needed one, that he would just grin and bear it.

And that was terrifying to Hoseok because he'd been there before. He'd done that. He'd been blindsided by lovers in the past, who couldn't handle it anymore. Who asked for space and never came back. The thought of Jimin finally realizing that he was too much in all the wrong ways? That was what was scary. Not moving in. Not tying himself to Jimin like that, no, it was the other way around. He didn't want Jimin to feel like he was stuck with him.

“You don't have to, you know. It was just an idea.” Jimin finally said, looking up with a bright, brittle smile in place.

Hoseok shook his head, reaching out to smooth a hand across the line of Jimin’s jaw.

“Can I think about it?” He asked gently, “I'm just surprised, that’s all.”

Jimin nodded, reaching out to wrap his arms around Hoseok’s shoulders and pull him back down into the sheets. “Sure, hyung. Think about it all you want. As much as you need.”

Hoseok settled back down into Jimin’s embrace, listening to the steady beat of his heart as Jimin’s fingers went automatically to his hair once more.

“I love you, Jiminie-yah.”

“I love you, too, Hobi-hyung.”

Morning came sooner than could possibly be humane, leaving Hoseok to drag himself out of Jimin’s warm bed, into his tepid shower, and out the door in his rumpled work clothes from yesterday to make it to work on time for his seven o'clock shift.

One cup of bitter break room coffee and a stale bagel later, he stood bleary eyed in front of the assignment board, checking to see which particular circle of hell he'd been assigned to today. The words ‘sporting goods’ seemed to be laced with a particular sense of malice today. He was tired, and just a little bit upset, and was not in the mood to be a people person today. Sporting good required lots of chatting with old men about fishing rods and helping college girls pick out the right yoga mat while doing just enough flirting to make the sale but not enough for her to ask for his number. It also required doing ridiculous things like trying to unload entire stacks of treadmills in their cumbersome, impossibly heavy boxes onto the steel shelves in the back all by himself; in between customers, and answering asinine phone calls about everything from golf balls to athletic cups every five ing minutes because nobody wanted to actually come into the actual god damn store anymore.

It was somewhere between the old man who decided to stand at his counter for forty-five minutes telling Hoseok in excruciating detail exactly why the youth of his generation were so lazy and entitled and when his manager trotted up followed by the young man from the back room towing a pallet jack loaded with merchandise for housewares that she was just sure Hoseok could do ‘in his down time’ (he had no down time) because housewares was just ‘right there’ (it really wasn’t) that Hoseok decided that he really, truly, with every bone in his body and every single cell in his brain and every molecule of oxygen swirling around in his lungs, absolutely without a doubt hated his ing job at E-Mart and that he really, really, really loved Park Jimin.

He hated this job so much and he loved Park Jimin and, wow, he was an idiot. So when the end of his shift rolled around and his co-worker showed up for the start of hers, he calmly walked to the back, clocked out, got his things out of his locker, and headed directly for his manager’s office. He rapped his knuckles on the door frame and smiled when she looked up at him.

“I'm sorry to do this on such short notice, but I’m quitting. Today is my last day.”

Minah frowned, “I’m sorry to hear that. You've been part of our E-Mart family for a long time. We’ll miss you around here. Let me know if you need a reference.”

At the offer oh a reference, Hoseok felt kinda bad for all time time he called her a in his head. And with his mouth. And in text. And emails. Not bad enough to agree to stay and finish out his schedule for the week when she asked, though.

“Your final check will come in the mail.”

And with that, he was out of there. He rode the bus to Jimin’s neighborhood, got off at a stop a few blocks away, and set out on a mission. He stopped by Jimin’s favorite food truck to order a giant thing of tteokbokki, dashed into the convenience store on the corner to grab a couple of bottles of chilsung cider, and paused to buy a bouquet of forget-me-nots from the sweet flower ahjumma who pushed her cart up and down the street every afternoon, before jogging his way back towards Jimin’s appartment.

Juggling his spoils between his hands, Hoseok fumbled his way up to the apartment and burst into the living room with energy to spare.

Jimin stood before him blinking water out of his eyes with a towel slung around his hips. He must have just gotten out of the shower. Hoseok checked his watch and, yes, Jimin would have just gotten back from practice.

“You're back early.” Jimin's smile was soft, the edges still a bit sad and Hoseok’s heart stuttered in his chest to think that he caused that with his silly insecurities. Jimin’s eyes dropped to the bags in Hoseok’s hands and the bouquet of flowers clutched carefully under his arm.

“Ah, Hyung, you didn't have to do all this. I'm fine, really. I’m not mad.” He took the flowers from Hoseok gently, lifting them to smell, his smile brightening a bit as he made his way toward the cabinets to find a vase.

Hoseok just smiled radiantly in response, “Put some clothes on, I bought us a snack. And I have something to tell you.”

Jimin looked at him over the flowers he was arranging in the vase, curious.

One he was clad in sweats and a ratty old t-shirt Hoseok kept squinting at because he was fairly certain it had belonged to him at some point, they settled down on the floor in front of the futon to pick at the tteokbokki with their chopsticks. It was comfortable, domestic even, and Hoseok decided that this didn't scare him. Not as much as he originally thought it would.

“I quit my job.”

He said it out of the blue, just like that. It wasn't exactly the grand declaration he'd planned in his head, but the surprised look on Jimin’s face was good enough. Wonderful even.

“Yo-you what?” Jimin sputtered around a mouth full of food.

“I quit my job. No more E-Mart for me.” Hoseok did a little shimmy from his spot on the floor, the reality of never having to go back to that particular plane of the damned ever again finally sinking in a bit for him, too.

“You quit your job?..” Jimin said slowly, watching Hoseok in that same careful way he'd watched him the night before.

“Yep.” Hoseok popped open a bottle of cider and took a healthy swig to hide his grin. It looked like Jimin was just catching on to what exactly that meant for them and their relationship and was trying to contain his excitement, a happy smile pulling at the corner of his lips and folding his eyes into crescents.

“You quit your job. So you're going to-,  yo-you’re going to.. move in with me?” He squeaked, the tips of his ears turning red even though he was the one who'd asked in the first place. So boldly. Out of the blue. In the early hours of the morning.

Hoseok winked, “No take backs, looks like you're stuck with me.”

And before the thought of that would have terrified him, but now, looking at Jimin sitting across from him, chili sauce coloring his lips and a fierce blush coloring his cheeks, he found the idea nothing but one hundred percent appealing.

Jimin shoved the carry out box aside, crawling across the floor to settle into Hoseok's lap. He kissed him easily, happily, giggling into it when the chili sauce smeared between the two of them and Hoseok decided it off was the best course of action for clean up. 

“You scared me, Jung Hoseok." Jimin murmured as Hoseok sighed and wrapped his arms around Jimin's waist, content.

“You love me.” Hoseok replied easily, burying in face in the crook of Jimin’s neck.

“I do.” Jimin sighed, “I love you, very much.”

“Gross.”