Jungkook has very few expectations for his evening.  In fact, he is quite looking forward to his assuredly banal night.  He’s planning on getting into his pajamas early after a lengthy shower filled with random (and poorly) executed shower songs.

Jungkook fiddles with his keys as he waits for the elevator to return to the ground floor.  Despite the fact that he has been trying to keep busy enough to keep Taehyung in the far corners of his mind, moments of nothingness invite everything to creep back into focus, much to his chagrin.

His resolution to remain firm has been falling apart slowly.  The first moment of doubt had come and gone a few minutes after deleting Taehyung’s contact.  All of the small hiccups were nothing compared to the stupid banana milk that Taehyung left at the bench.  At least, Jungkook thinks that it was Taehyung.  It might’ve been a happy coincidence, but his bruised heart was more than willing to read into the situation.  Then his rationale pushed his answer to Taehyung’s attempt to repair their broken friendship, emphasis on friend, because friends like each other.

Out of habit, impatience compels Jungkook to repeatedly hit the button to call the elevator.  He wants to do anything but dwell on Taehyung and his feelings or lack thereof.  Jungkook groans as the sudden desire for banana milk overcomes him.  Taehyung has ruined banana milk.

The elevators doors finally open, after letting Jungkook’s heart return to feeling.  Jungkook frowns as he boards the elevator.  A press of a button later and Jungkook is back to thinking about Taehyung.  He exhales deeply, as if purging his lungs will also purge him of his unrequited feelings.  One day, he hopes, his heart will stop racing at the mention of Taehyung’s name.  One day soon if the powers that be are at all kind.

The elevator comes to a stop with a quiet ding, and Jungkook walks down the hall as he picks out the key to the deadbolt.  Unlocking the door, he steps forward, announcing his return with a standard, “I’m back!”

He slips out of his shoes and pockets his keys.   It takes two steps for him to look up and see the last person he ever expected.  Jungkook’s legs stop working; as much as he wants to run straight back out of the apartment, he can’t.  He can’t breathe, and he doesn’t hear whatever Jimin says.

Everything just stops working.  His feelings race through his veins, locking his knees in place and forcing him to look at Taehyung.  They stare at each other for the longest time without speaking; Jungkook barely notices when Jimin runs out of the room because he can’t see anything but Taehyung.

Taehyung, to his credit, looks rather affected.  He has bags under his eyes, and his hair is greasier than usual; his mood maps onto his appearance from his posture to the dull look in his eyes.  Taehyung is sad, but Jungkook doesn’t know what’s gnawing at him.  Not that it matters because Jungkook would give his left arm to see Taehyung happy again.

Taehyung manages to break the silence after searching for the right words for a moment, “Do you like me?”  His inflection implies that he has finally caught onto lingering stares in combination with his outright confession.

Panic seizes Jungkook for a moment because he doesn’t want to go through an actual, outright rejection. “How do you define ‘like’?”

Taehyung sighs, “I mean do you like me?  Do you want to hold hands when we walk down the street and be gross and cheesy with me?  Do you want to fake a yawn and stretch so that you can casually drape your arm over my shoulder during a movie? Do you want couple rings and couple t-shirts for when we go to the amusement park?  Is the idea of kissing me appealing?  Do you want to borrow my hoodie just because it smells like me?  Do you want to play footsie at a crowded table because we’re young, dumb, and in love?  Do you like me?”

“Oh.” Jungkook murmurs, processing the long list of couple to-dos that Taehyung just rushed through.  The idea of doing any one of those with Taehyung makes him feel fuzzy.  He clears his throat of any emotion that might betray his hope, “Well, do you like me?”

Taehyung puffs out his cheeks and directs his gaze to the floor.  “I asked you first,” he mumbles shyly.

Jungkook scoffs internally; Taehyung is being a child.  “I’m not telling until you tell me whether or not you like me.”

“A lot.” Taehyung practically shouts; he immediately blushes and begins fanning himself out of embarrassment.

Jungkook bites back smile, “You like me a lot?”

Taehyung sways a little as he itches the back of his head, “Yup.”

“You want to be cheesy and gross with me?” Jungkook continues as if one confession is far more than needed.  He rather pleased with himself; he hasn’t melted into a puddle of goo yet.

“Yes, I want to be cheesy and gross with you.  I would very much like to hold your hand and kiss your face and hug you for a little longer than appropriate for friends.”

Jungkook could jump up and down and scream at the top of his lungs; he’s so happy.  He has to wait for his heart to slow down before he can actually say anything while retaining some of his couth.  He in a small breath before his lips form a coy smile, “What exactly are you proposing Kim Taehyung?”

“Well,” Taehyung begins, “Many things can be proposed, but none of those matter unless you like me like I like you. So, do you?”

“I already told you how I feel.” Jungkook says softly, feigning hurt that Taehyung still hasn’t figured out his initial confession.

“Yeah, you said I like you and promptly deleted my phone number.” Taehyung groans.

“You can have my number again on one condition.”

Taehyung perks up, “Name it.”

Jungkook smiles, feeling heat in his cheeks, “We go from friends to boyfriends.”

Taehyung responds with a wide smile, walking around the table to come face to face with Jungkook, “Can I hug you for an inappropriate length of time?”

Jungkook nods, and Taehyung wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck.  As he places his hands on the small of Taehyung’s back, Jungkook thinks that it just feels right to hold and be held by Taehyung.

“Can I have your phone number?” Taehyung asks against the skin of Jungkook’s neck.

“You’re ruining the moment,” he whines, softly hitting Taehyung’s lower back.

___

A group of schoolgirls giggle, and it immediately rubs Namjoon the wrong way.  Teenagers have never been this annoying before, annoying yes but not to this extent.

He taps his fingers on the glass counter by the cash register.  As he squints at them, he groans internally.  They’re obviously not going to purchase anything, but they keep touching absolutely everything.  Worst of all, they’re happy.

He has half a mind to yell at them to buy something or get out.  His level-headedness has gone out the window, and he has a sneaking suspicion that his attitude has everything to do with Seokjin.  As it turns out that saying something is very different from doing it.

He shifts in his seat, completely prepared to tear into these girls when his phone rings.  Those girls would never know how lucky they are.  Namjoon fishes his phone out of his pocket, answering it before really catching a look at the caller ID.  “Hello?”

“I think Jungkook has a boyfriend.” Jimin whispers through the phone.

Namjoon’s eye twitches, revealing his annoyance at Jimin for calling and Jungkook for having a semi-successful love life.  He knows he shouldn’t be annoyed at either of those things, but this whole business with liking-Seokjin-but-trying-not-to has really thrown him off.  He pinches the bridge of his nose, “What makes you say that?  Also, why are you whispering?”

He can hear it as Jimin clicks his tongue; there’s probably some eye rolling to go along with that attitude.  Jimin takes a deep breath, “So a little while ago, someone knocked on the door, and I was like ‘who’s that?’  I answered the door and Kim Taehyung is on the other side!”

The name Taehyung rings a very faint bell for Namjoon.  Jimin continues, “He asked for Jungkook, and I didn’t know that he knew Jungkook.  I invited him in, and we sat around until Jungkook came home.  They totally had something going on!  I think that he might be what was up with Jungkook, but anyways, I left the room to let them clear the air.  Now they’re just hugging.”

“How do you know they’re hugging?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin scoffs, “I will have you know that it’s very hard to pretend to be disinterested when two people you know are having a moment in your dining room.  Also, I may or may not have cracked the door a little bit, a smidge; it’s barely open.  They’ve been hugging for a really long time.  So that’s why I’m whispering because I don’t want them to know that I’m creeping on them.”

Namjoon snorts, “So you admit to being creepy.”

“Well…” Jimin sighs, “Originally it was just eavesdropping, but then it got quiet.  Naturally I was concerned.”

Namjoon watches as the schoolgirls leave empty-handed and avoiding his gaze.  Jimin has served well as a distraction from annoyance. Namjoon polishes the counter with his shirt, “You are of weak moral fiber.  Thanks for keeping me in the loop.  Anything else before I hang up and tell every mutual acquaintance between us about how creepy you are?”

“Um, no.” Jimin’s voice falters, but Namjoon doesn’t have the energy to squeeze whatever is on his mind out of him over the phone.  He’ll just do it later.

“Bye.” He spits before hanging up the phone.

He frowns as he runs his fingers through his hair.  The store is dead, but it’s an hour away from the end of his shift.  It’s not exactly the type of shop that businessmen poke into on their way home to their loved ones.  He hops off of his seat and walks around to make sure that all of the records are still in place.

The shop’s bell rings, and he reflexively welcomes the customer, “Good evening.” His eyes flick up to find Kim Seokjin standing directly across from him on the other side of racks.

“Hi.” Seokjin waves awkwardly.  Namjoon doesn’t respond, and his hopeful face falls a little as he clears his throat.  “So, I kind of need advice.”

“Is advice something friends do?” Namjoon responds bitterly.

Seokjin pouts; Namjoon catches himself almost thinking that it’s cute.  It’s frustrating to think that it takes one encounter for built up apathy to wash away like a sandcastle during high tide.  Seokjin huffs, “Look, I get it.  Well, no, not really, but I respect that our opinions differ on the continuance of relationship, platonic or otherwise.”

Seokjin takes in a deep breath, “The thing is I meddle.  Like a lot but it’s kind of my job since I manage two ridiculously stubborn people.  They consume my social life to the point that I have to come to someone who basically hates for advice because he’s the only person I’ve met outside of my job.  And I need you to frank with me because I might need to meddle again, and the last time that I meddled it didn’t turn out so well.”

Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek, and against his better judgment, he relents.  He groans, “We can talk about it over coffee after my shift ends.  You will be paying.”

Seokjin smiles before pulling his face back to something semi-neutral, “Totes.  Totally.  Right.”

It might have been petty, but Namjoon orders the most expensive drink on the menu that he can without Seokjin noticing.  It's incredibly sugary, and Namjoon thinks that this could replace Seokjin in his heart.

He runs his thumb over the handle of the ceramic mug, waiting for Seokjin to explain why he needs Namjoon’s advice.  His company, however, seems intent on making this temporary pity-truce last for as long as humanly possible.  Namjoon’s patience isn’t having though.  “Get on with it.”

Seokjin perks up and clears his throat, “How I do even start?”

“The beginning is a good place.”

Seokjin slurps down so coffee, wincing because it’s still a little too hot to drink in large amounts.  “A little while back, I was really annoyed at… what should call him?  Min.  I was annoyed at Min because I have to go his filthy house all the time, so I hired a housekeeper.   Things happened between them, and Min totally likes the housekeeper.  However, he kind of, sort of fired him and now Min just lies around the house, missing him.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Namjoon reflects for a moment, “How does the housekeeper feel?”

“He won’t respond to my e-mails...” Seokjin trails off, looking anywhere but at Namjoon.

“What’s your current plan for meddling?”  Namjoon asks, slightly in disbelief.  All of his resolutions meant nothing apparently, and now he’s complicit in Seokjin messing in someone else’s business.

“Well, so far the whole “just-call-him” plan hasn’t worked.  I’m not really sure why I thought it would, considering how stubborn he is.” Seokjin scratches his cheek before he tells Namjoon is actual plan, “So, I was going to try and figure out a way to get the housekeeper to run into Yoon—Min— preferably somewhere where they can discuss their feelings in a safe space.”

“If you manage to reach the former housekeeper, have you considered telling him that he forgot something at this Min’s house?” Namjoon offers.

“That’s actually pretty good!” Seokjin exclaims with a revelatory smile on his face.  Namjoon doesn’t manage to stop himself from thinking that it’s beautiful.  “But he returned his key already…”

“Then meddle.” Namjoon sighs, “I can’t solve everything for you.”

“Right…” Seokjin bites his lower lip, “How have you been?”

Namjoon shakes his head, “We’re not talking.  We aren’t friends, remember?”

“Right.  We're merely acquaintances.” Seokjin nods his head.

They finish their drinks in silence.  Namjoon quietly reminds himself that he does not like Seokjin, nor does he want to be his friend or boyfriend or anything along those lines.

After Namjoon downs the rest of his drink, he gets up to leave, only to be stopped by Seokjin grabbing his hand with both of his.  His grip is tight enough to be interpreted as desperate, so Namjoon looks down at Seokjin.

Seokjin loosens his grip but doesn’t let go.  His expression is on the cusp of desperation and sadness.  “You don’t want to stay a little longer?”

“We’re not friends.” Namjoon avoids the actual question because if Seokjin pleads a little more then he’ll probably stay.  He is of weak resolve.

Finger by finger, Seokjin pries his hands away, returning them to his lap.  He offers a forced smile, “I hope we will be one day.”

“Bye.” Namjoon pulls away.    He begins his trek home, and he’s disappointed in himself because his cheeks are warm.  He thought that he’d drawn the line very well, but Seokjin… Seokjin just walked over it like it didn’t exist.

This is going to be much harder than he hoped, especially if Seokjin tries to be his friend.

___

Yoongi sits on the floor of his studio with a pencil poised over lines of completed sheet music, waiting for inspiration to strike in the form of lyrics.  He’s been waiting since he called Jimin and failed to say anything.  He chickened out after hearing Jimin’s voice.

It’s funny, not in a humorous way, in an ironic sense, that the first time he heard Jimin’s voice he had to hold himself back.  Then again, it’s not like Jimin would remember the first time that they met, nor would he understand Yoongi’s initial annoyance at his existence.

Jimin just throws him off.  He keeps Yoongi from sleeping and articulating himself.  He has to hide his emotions in words that someone else will say just to know that Jimin will hear it.  He won’t know that the words were written for him, but he’ll hear them.

The sounds of beeping and thumping wake Yoongi from his sleep.  He groans, squinting at the hotel’s alarm clock.  3:12AM.  Yoongi has worked very hard his entire life to avoid being awake at this hour.

He’s too drowsy to run through the list of possibilities as to what’s happening at his door, but he rolls off of his bed, stiffly walking to the door.  He’s completely prepared to chew whoever’s head off.  The door opens with more force than Yoongi expected.  A man literally falls into the room, and he promptly shushes everything very loudly between giggles.

A wave of body odor hits Yoongi, and it smells overwhelmingly of cheap beer and soju.  The very drunk man pushes himself off of the ground and jumps into Yoongi’s bed.

He scoffs, completely prepared to skin the drunkard alive.  The drunk cuddles into Yoongi’s covers with his left leg on top of the covers.  Yoongi stops breathing for a moment because he’s actually ethereal in the moonlight of the early morning.  He's too tired to deal with cute drunk people.

The sight of a red scrape on the stranger’s knee catches Yoongi’s attention.  Through a little bit of reasoning and a whole lot of pity, Yoongi comes to the conclusion that he should give the guy a bandage for his bleeding knee.  After all, he doesn’t want to be charged for getting blood on his sheets.

He rummages through his luggage, finding a single spare bandage.  It saves him from buying some from leaving the hotel to find a convenience store.  He applies the bandage after tearing off the packaging.

He tucks the stranger’s leg under the comforter, almost running his fingers through the soft black hair covering his forehead.  Yoongi stops himself; he has no clue this guy is.  He’s being creepy.

Yoongi picks up the room key.  An admittedly tired idea comes to him.  He’ll just stay in that guy’s room until daylight hours.  He rips a page out of his composition notebook, explaining the situation to the drunken guy in a note.  He folds it neatly and places it on the dresser.

He'll be okay if he never sees that guy again.

How wrong he was.

Yoongi moves the pencil across the paper, titling the wordless song.  Moonlight.

a/n:
i know. i'm the worst.
but it's super hard to stay motivated with school being school.
plus i would really appreciate it if you guys would comment.
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i love you, even if you are annoyed that i update slowly.