Stretching as much as one could on a couch, Yoongi opened his eyes to see another day. His first thoughts unsurprisingly were on the man occupying his bed. Yoongi sat up and ran his hand through his bleached blonde locks a few times before shoving the blanket off completely and standing up. He looked around but didn’t see anyone. Perhaps Jungkook was still sleeping. As if he needed that. It was already bad enough that last night had maybe gazed upon the younger as he slept soundly wrapped up in his sheets for a few moments. A few moments being almost twenty minutes. That was much too long but once his feet had taken him from his bathroom, had drank too much water before bed, and planted themselves on the side of his bed he couldn’t seem to move. It was too easy to get lost in his thoughts and much too easy to take in more of face of a friend that he hadn’t seen in years. A face that he never thought he would ever have to go without seeing at one point in time. A face that belonged to the man who made him feel more than any other person ever had before.

Ignoring his bedroom, he didn’t want to get caught in an awkward position, he walked into the kitchen. Sitting along the bar top was a plate with breakfast already made. His mug was next to the plate, waiting for coffee to be poured into it. A small note was placed next to both, scribbled in handwriting that could only be from one person. Did he leave? That was odd, generally, Yoongi would have to kick the kid out of his apartment but… things were different now. It was something he had to keep reminding himself even though they met again for less than 24 hours. He probably would have to for the next week with or without seeing Jungkook again.

Yoongi hyung,

I wanted to thank you for taking me in last night. I appreciate it more than you know. I tried to make you breakfast since I didn’t want to wake you but you only had eggs and teriyaki spam? in your kitchen. What even is spam? Uh, I probably shouldn’t have written that when I cooked it for you. I promise it tastes good… Maybe… Good luck! Coffee is in the pot and your favorite mug is at the ready. Thank you again. If you ever need anything, call me.

Jungkook

P.S. If you don’t have it, here’s my number.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

If it tastes like , it’s not my fault ;)

And there it was that one sentence that made Yoongi’s breath hitch, catching in his throat making him at a loss on how to exhale nor inhale.

If you ever need anything, call me.

Call me.

A hand was extended, previously Yoongi would call it a lifeline but it’s not. He can live just fine without Jungkook, he has been for the last couple of years. He’s known Jungkook since he was eight and they moved to the same neighborhood. They lost contact in school a little bit here and there but not enough to ever lose contact completely or not have the others phone number. Even though Yoongi had cut off contact he had never deleted Jungkook’s phone number. Unless the younger had changed it, he could still contact him. In fact, he almost had a multitude of times. Generally, Namjoon would take his phone away, shaking his head and grumbling and Yoongi thanked him for those moments. The first year was extremely hard but time heals everything doesn’t it?

Sliding onto the barstool, Yoongi picked up the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. It wasn’t hot but it was still warm enough to drink. He re-read the note and couldn’t help but laugh at the way Jungkook’s mind went in so many different directions, exposing himself when he didn’t have to. It was just like the younger. Nothing had changed.

“Why is he so cute?”

He spoke quietly into the air, as his eyes read over the note yet again. Letting out a sigh, he pushed the note to the side and stared at the breakfast that had been made for him. It at least looked edible. The eggs weren’t burnt, they were fluffy yellow eggs. Hm, did he have milk too? It wasn’t as if Yoongi didn’t know what was in his fridge but… he didn’t know what was in his fridge. He hadn’t really been home much the past week, holing up in his studio that he finally was able to acquire a few months ago.

He poked at the teriyaki spam a few times before finally picking it up with his chopsticks and trying it. Chewing the smallest bit, he decided that it wasn’t half bad but also didn’t see the appeal. How was this an American staple? That’s what Namjoon had said as he tossed it in the cart. He was going to have to ask his friend later. The spam had been in his pantry for awhile but tasted fine enough.

Yoongi didn’t finish every speck of food on his plate because Jungkook had cooked him a meal but because he didn’t like food going to waste. With his dishes washed and put away, Yoongi made his way back to the living room to grab his phone hopefully before his alarm went off. He certainly had chosen the most obnoxious alarm there was and it did it’s job. Swiping his iPhone from the coffee table, he quickly turned the impending alarm off and opened up his messages.

Joon 8:02am: Don’t forget I need you here by 9:30

Okay, dad. That’s what Yoongi wanted to reply but didn’t. Instead he replied with,

Me 8:41am: Spam can’t possibly be an American staple.

Scrolling through the rest of his notification, his bare feet padded across the cool hardwood floor to his soft carpeted bedroom. The blonde’s phone vibrated in his hand a moment later. Joon scrolling across the top in notification.

Joon 8:42am: It is dude.

Wait did you finally eat it? Isn’t it like a year old?

Pulling out jeans and a graphic tee, he quickly changed and grabbed the nearest beanie. He didn’t have any s to give about his hair. Especially not since he slept on it wet and was sure it looked pretty awful. Picking up his phone from the dresser, he clicked on his friend’s message and promptly snorted. Why the hell else would he randomly mention spam...but had it really been a year? . He really needed to go to the grocery store. Tonight. He would go tonight.

Shoving his phone in the front pocket of his black jeans, he tugged on his beanie once more before grabbing his keys off the nightstand, slipping on his Air Jordan’s and out the door. Namjoon had been requesting his help with some tracks for a project he had been working on. It was something he only did in his spare time between his own gig at the radio station, his own composing and from time to time a show. It was becoming less and less frequent that he actually did shows at clubs but every now and then or when he had some good new material he’d make an appearance.

Namjoon and him had a few places in their old stomping ground that let them do a set almost whenever they wanted. It was a good time and helped to keep his skills sharp. There would never be anything remotely similar to the feeling on standing on stage, bright lights on you obscuring your view, the heat of the crowd wafting over you tinged with the electricity of their energy from their screams. Nothing could compare, a type of high that was certainly better than any drug he had ever tried back in the day. However, work was work and as much passion as he had for the stage he had in music in general. The way he was living now was good. He was able to do what he loved and still make a comfortable living. No, he wasn’t in some million dollar skyrise but when he often lived in his studio more than his own apartment, that was very unnecessary.

Striding through their studio door, Yoongi kicked the door behind him with his foot and handed over one of the coffees occupying his two hands.

“Did you kill me with that spam?” he grumbled to the man that was hunched over the desk scribbling in his notebook. The laptop was open next to the man but he was still putting pen to paper. Waving the coffee in his friends face, the younger looked up and took the coffee with a nod of thanks.

“So, you did eat it. Nah, you'll be fine. That stuff like never goes bad.”

Yoongi eyed him quietly for a moment as he parked himself on the other chair that was to the left of Namjoon. Crossing his right leg over his left he hummed.

“We know who is responsible if I do.”

Namjoon chuckled before taking a sip of his hot coffee and then leaning his elbow on the desk.

“I’m just surprised you actually cooked for yourself this early in the morning.”

Averting his gaze, Yoongi became interested in the lyrics that Namjoon had just been scribbling so furiously. He grunted in reply but that unfortunately wasn’t enough to fool the younger. They had been friends for much too long for either one of the two men to not know when they were hiding something or not revealing all the details. Sitting up straighter in his chair, Namjoon turned towards his hyung and pinned him with a knowing gaze.

“You cooked for someone?”

He asked the question with rising interest and extra emphasis on the word, someone. Yoongi wished there was a way to escape this, which may have been why he was pulling down on his beanie even more. As if it would be able to hide his entire being and end this conversation. He muttered a no, lips brushing against the straw of his Americano. More coffee he didn’t need but felt that he needed to exist.

“Wait… someone cooked you breakfast? Who?” A large hand clapped Yoongi on the back and sent him rocking forward but not enough to launch him from his seat.

“Min Yoongi finally got some. It’s been how many years now. So, who is she? He?”

Hacking up a lung, Yoongi tried to prevent himself from dying. The mention of his non-existent life had sent the bitter liquid down the wrong pipe. He really didn’t need a reminder as to how boring his life is or more like he didn’t want to have this discussion with Joon again. For some reason the younger is always worrying about him and being “all pent up” to which Yoongi would always grimace at. He was fine. He didn’t need to around all the time to remain a human being. Though he couldn’t deny that on some days perhaps if he had he wouldn’t be quite as much as a grump as was.

Waving his hand as indication that Namjoon was wrong, the blonde's eyes squeezed shut as he felt the burn in the back of his throat, coughing a few more times before regaining himself once again.

“No? You didn’t get some? Then what the are you cooking that old as spam for?”

Oddly enough, this comment and Namjoon’s incredulous face just made him laugh. His deep yet soft chuckle filled the space between them. He picked up the notebook that Namjoon was writing in and tapped the page.

“Can’t we just work on this. It’s nothing important.” His words were tinged with just the slightest whine but even that didn’t stop Namjoon. Instead it earned him a lack of response. Tossing the notebook back down he turned to look at his best friend. Well, .. He had that look, the one that said I’m not doing anything until we talk about this.

“Maybe I should have added some Bailey’s into this.” Yoongi grumbled to himself, luckily for him Namjoon couldn’t hear because he would have gotten a smack for that. The gaze intensified before the younger sat back in his seat and let out a sigh.

“Jungkookie made it. It’s all I had in the house, you know I haven’t been home for days.”

Yoongi rambled more than necessary but he couldn’t help it. He was nervous. The last time they had a conversation about Jeon Jungkook. Well, it hadn’t ended well. Not at all. They didn’t speak for three days which is a record because they generally hear from the other at least once a day. He silently cursed himself for letting the fondness slip out in his voice when he spoke the younger's name.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Our Jeon Jungkook?”

Not daring to look into Namjoon’s eyes, he stared at the words on the page that were just blurring together.

“Mm…”

If crickets were active at 9:30 in the morning then you would be able to hear them in the studio right now. It was dead silent and the longer it stretched the more that Yoongi itched to move. Now he wished in his morning stumble that he hadn’t text the other about the spam. He could feel those deep brown eyes of Namjoon’s peering at him. It was unnerving because he knew that the younger was trying to reign in his emotions. For the most part Namjoon was a very calm soul but, there was always something that pushed another. In this case, Jungkook was his button. Don’t get him wrong, Namjoon also adored Jungkook like a younger brother but said younger brother wasn’t supposed to play with his best friends feelings like a dog toy. Or something like that Namjoon had said to Yoongi before.

“Why was he at your place? I thought you didn’t see him anymore, nor talk to him.”

If anyone were to barge into the studio they would think that the two men were having a lover's spat. It certainly sounded like it, the barely restrained anger in Namjoon’s voice and Yoongi shrinking back at it. He finally looked up and met his best friend’s angry yet worried gaze.

“He was crying Joon-ah. Not once but twice. How could I- I couldn’t turn him away. It’s over though, he left this morning and that’s that.” The blonde felt like he was pleading with his best friend and in a way he kind of was. Pleading with him to calm down and not jump to the conclusions that he could feel the other wanting to jump to but was clinging so hard not to.

The other man took in three calming deep breaths before saying anything more to the one person he cared about more than anyone besides his mother. He placed a hand on Yoongi’s knee and the anger was receding but the worry became ever more present.

“Hyung, you can’t do this again-”

“Do what? I haven’t done anything, Joon!” He didn’t want nor need a lecture right now. Yoongi knew that the younger cared but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to travel down again. They had been there three years ago, it was ty then and even worse now.

“Hyung, you know this is how it starts. It’s how it always starts. He runs to you whenever life hits a speed bump, you patch him up and then he ignores your feelings all over again. Don’t put yourself through it again.”

Knocking Namjoon’s hand off his knee, emotion broils in his gut and now he’s the one to needs to find a way to keep his cool. His best friend meant well, he knew that he did but he’s skipping so far ahead in a timeline that’s not even close to that. It’s been three years and Yoongi’s done everything to cut Jungkook out and move on with his life, doesn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t that build some trust that he’s not going to fall into the same trap as before.

“It’s been three years, three ing years. I’ve cut him out, I didn’t seek him out. Why are you acting like I’m some pathetic groupie that can’t get over a one night stand with their idol?! Do you really have so little faith in me? .” Pushing his chair forcefully out from him, Yoongi stood up and strode across the room so he didn’t have to look at his friend as he pulled off his beanie and threw it onto the couch.

“You’re right, it’s been three years Yoongs and you haven’t so much as had a single relationship that lasted more than a few weeks and don’t you dare lie to me about the reason as to why those ended.”

Namjoon turned his chair around to face his hyung’s back. Neither said anything. Yoongi couldn’t. He knew very well the reason his relationships had failed. He’d never been fully invested in the first place. It was a means to get a certain someone off his back. Those