WOW AN UPDATE THAT ISN'T HAPPENING PAST 11PM

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Yoongi gazes through the large window, one hand clutching a hardcover book to his waist and the other ghosting its fingertips against the glass. With hooded eyes, he watches the rain pelt against pavement, only visible by the glow of the streetlights.

He should've known not to walk here. That was pretty stupid of him.

Besides his intelligence, (or lack thereof) he does know one thing - he does not want to spend the next twenty minutes getting drenched by the pouring rain just so he can get home. If there's anything he hates in this world, it's trying to squeeze himself out of wet jeans.

Feeling defeated, his first response is to trudge back to the faded red couch by the shelves, sitting down on the arm and staring around at books and computers and lights. As if maybe, if he did it long enough, he'd spot a magic carpet or a flying car to bring him home.

Don't get him wrong - he likes it here. He's probably spent hours curled up in the corner or staring at the little fish tank that sits on the table near the nonfiction books. The place is quiet, comforting, and nobody feels the need to bug him, save for the occasional child tugging on his pants (he has no clue why they find him anything but scary, but kids rarely make sense to him, so he lets it be).

Today is different. Today, it's safe to say it's late, at least for a working guy who never has any plans and is in his bed nightly by ten PM. Today, the existence of time hadn't occurred to him in over several hours, and when it finally did, it was already raining like the clouds were trying to punish the pavement.

His stomach makes a strange noise, one that's loud and sounds damn close to something out of a zombie movie, and he groans quietly to himself. Not only is he here past the daylight hours, he hasn't eaten dinner yet. And it's just past eight.

"You're here late," a voice comments nearby, and he turns his head to see a familiar face, pink lipstick accenting her dark, silky hair.

"Yeah," he mutters, looking down at the cover of the book in his hands, half-pretending to study it. There's some over-the-top quote about wine at the bottom. "I walked here," he adds as a way of explanation.

"Ah, I see," the girl says softly, nodding her head. "Well, that's not good."

"Nope."

He looks again at the window. The rain's not letting up by any stretch of the imagination. From the looks of it, if he doesn't try and do something, he could be here until closing time.

"Hey, you should probably get off there," he hears from the front desk, her tone gentle like always. "Hwasa will scold you again."

Yoongi shrugs. It's not like he cares. If he had a nickel for every time he's been scolded by Hwasa, he'd have enough money to buy this place new couches, nice enough that he'd feel obligated not to sit on the arms.

His stomach growls again, making him rub his eyes with the heels of his hands.

I need food.

As he pulls his phone from his pocket, he brainstorms candidates. That's what he's going to call people who might be willing to pick him up from the library, which he realizes is such a lame sentence. For someone in his twenties, he acts like a middle-aged mom who watches Grey's Anatomy and drinks too much wine. All he needs now is a minivan for his hypothetical three kids.

When the thought depresses him enough, Yoongi chooses to ignore how much he sounds like a suburban mom and instead realizes the first willing 'candidate' that comes to mind is Jimin.

Of course it is. He's just not sure if he wants to go there right now. In fact, he's not sure if he ever wants to go there, because even being the indecisive person he is, he's positive he doesn't want to owe Park Jimin a favor.

Yoongi continues down his list of possibilities. Maybe Seokjin would be cool with it? He probably wouldn't be thrilled like Jimin, but he likes to give a helping hand when possible.

It seems pretty feasible until Yoongi remembers that today is Wednesday. Seokjin is probably at that weird dance thing he always raves about on Thursday mornings when Yoongi's trying to survive on one cup of coffee and a handful of cereal.

Dammit.

So Seokjin is out. And although he knows that his friend Kyung would kindly agree to come get him, he lives an eternity's drive away from here. Yoongi's not going to take advantage of his illogical generosity.

One by one he goes down his list, each person less favorable than the last. And eventually, of course, he's left again with the profession pest, Park Jimin.

Scrolling back to the J's, he lets his thumb hover over Jimin's contact name, which he'd so sentimentally set as Park Jimin when Jimin had texted him the other day. Just to tell him he'd made the first box of mac and cheese.

Idiot.

"You gonna call someone?"

The soft voice of the brunette sat at her desk enters his thoughts once again, almost like a reminder that he's thinking really deeply.

It's funny, really. She looks genuinely curious. Sometimes he wonders why this chick even likes him. It's not like he goes to great lengths to talk to her. Then again, he remembers wondering the same thing when Jimin first talked to him way back in high school.

"Maybe," he says.

"Something stopping you?" she questions.

"The government," Yoongi answers sarcastically, and when he sees the way her eyes cloud with confusion, he looks back down at his book with the cheesy wine quote.

C'mon, Yoongi, talking is not that hard.

"I don't wanna bug him," he confesses after a while. He, of course, leaves out the part where Jimin had broken his heart nine years ago and he's scared to get close to him again.

"Aw, c'mon," she encourages, waving off his insecurity as she sticks her pencil behind her ear, where it usually sits. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind at all."

"You don't even know him," Yoongi points out bluntly, pulling his thumb away from Jimin's contact name. This is starting to seem like a bad idea again.

It's fine. He'll just wait here until the rain stops. Or he'll get drenched. It's fine, as long as Jimin doesn't drive here to get him.

"True, I don't. But I know that I wouldn't mind if it were me," she tells him, nails beginning to clack softly on her keyboard like she hadn't just said something crazy.

Yoongi is taken aback at how sure she seems. I don't know what these people see in me, but I must be doing some false advertising.

"You wouldn't?"

"Not at all," she assures him, looking away from her computer screen to smile warmly at him. "Do you think I don't like you? I do."

It's silent for a moment, borderline awkward, and then, "That's a first," Yoongi remarks.

"Call him," she urges, not allowing him to stall or steer the conversation elsewhere. "C'mon. Don't make me fight you."

"You could probably beat me up, not gonna lie."

"Do it," she insists, standing up from her roll-ey chair. It looks like she's trying to be threatening, but she's all smiley.

Nonetheless, Yoongi's hands fly up in front of him - his surrender. "Okay. I'm doing it."

It takes a moment, but when she seems satisfied and sits back down, Yoongi bites his lip and lets himself feel bitter. Having to call the actual embodiment of risk is a to accept, but at this point, it's better than sitting here listening to his stomach growl.

He lets his thumb return to the call button, and before he can think twice, he taps it. He can feel the doubt in his stomach (or maybe that's just the hunger?) as he raises the phone to his ear, but he hopes for the best. Whatever the best may be.

Jimin picks up on the second ring.

"Yoongi," his voice crackles through the line. Yoongi might describe his voice as silky if he were trying to write a sonnet.

Silky, a little tired, but happy.

"Hey," Yoongi says softly, stare finding its way to the window for the third time. He's not thinking about the rain anymore.

Hearing Jimin's voice on the other end reminds him of those nights in high school when they'd just talk on the phone, far past midnight. They'd come into class the next day drained of life and barely able to keep their eyelids up, but they didn't mind so much.

"What's up?" Jimin asks, sounding like a kid who's on the way to his best friend's birthday party.

Yoongi's inner stubbornness is yelling at him, but he keeps his composure enough to say what he needs to. "I was just wondering... would it be okay if you picked me up from the library?" The words fall out of his mouth like a food that tastes like wet grass, but you don't want to spit it onto your plate and look rude. "I walked here and now it's pouring."

Jimin pauses, and Yoongi almost finds himself wishing he were here in front of him. Only because he wants to see his face, try to tell what he's thinking. All that practice in high school made him the only known expert in the field.

"Are you for real?" Jimin asks after the longest, weirdest pause, and the surprise in his tone sticks out like a sore thumb. Yoongi's always known he's a stubborn person, but maybe not that he's stubborn enough to make Park Jimin sound like he's just won a million bucks.

"I mean, I don't really want to get drenched through to my underwear, so yeah," he replies, and that's the moment that he realizes he's got this tiny, stupid smile on his face. It makes his skin tingle with confusion. "Plus I haven't eaten."

"Alright, . I'll be there in a few," replies Jimin, trying - and failing - to sound totally unaffected by the whole situation.

"It's not a problem or anything?" Yoongi tries, and as he says it, he catches the Desk Girl's knowing gaze. A smile tugs at her lips, and she nods at him, because she knows exactly what's being said, even without hearing the voice on the other end.

"No, it's whatever. I'm not really doing anything, so." Yoongi can easily hear the shuffling of Jimin getting up from a sitting position.

He's about to ask one more time, mostly because he still feels really weird about this, but before he can, another voice cuts in on the other line.

It shouldn't have been at all surprising. Jimin has always been social, so it would make sense for Yoongi to catch him when he was in the middle of something, with someone.

But this new and unfamiliar voice sounds a hell of a lot like a woman's.

"Where are you going?" it asks.

Yoongi does a double take. A whole new perspective on this conversation hits him in the head like a brick, because apparently, someone else has been listening to it for who knows how long.

"I'm picking up someone."

"You've already been out most of the day."

"I'm not gonna be gone long."

Suddenly, Yoongi really feels like he's intruding again, and he squirms on the arm of the couch. It's the most he's felt this way in a long time, and he has trouble finding his voice. "Who's that?" he asks eventually, low and cautious like they're discussing a secret.

Jimin doesn't really answer him. All he says is, "I'll be there in a few minutes."

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a/n
don't u love not knowing things about the plot hAHA

ah, i love messing with y'all. mostly because i love you so don't be offended. HOLLA. anyways, hope you enjoyed :')