XVII

There’s a loud buzz of doorbell that rung in the whole unit for the fifth time in a span of two minutes and Yoongi’s not having it anymore. He blindly kicked the boy sitting on the carpeted floor beside the couch he’s sitting with his left bare foot for a silent order of get the ing door now or else. But the said boy was too engrossed on what he’s watching to actually sense the hidden threat in the gesture that he doesn’t even looked away from the television, pushing Yoongi’s foot away from his shoulder with his left hand.

Yoongi shoot the boy a quick glare before focusing his eyes again back on the screen of his laptop sitting atop his legs, rearranging his feet on the couch cushions. “Open the door, Hoseok.”

“Why don’t you do that, hyung? Can’t you see I’m busy here,” Hoseok answered, mumbling few curses and teeth gritting at the intense action scene playing on the television screen.

Yoongi didn’t answer after that. He doesn’t even heard what Hoseok had said in the first place; too busy finishing the layers of song he’s still working on for the past two weeks before getting ready on fetching Jimin. He promised the boy, and he only has 30 minutes more before Jimin thinks he might ditch him – no way in hell Yoongi would do that. Not after of what happened to the younger a few weeks ago. Yoongi’s still not sure he wants to risk Jimin’s safety again even at the smallest of things – so getting up now to open the door for some uninvited visitor is not even a choice. And so he stayed on the couch silently, fingers flying furiously on the keyboard as he attempt to do some progress before he leave for the night.

It’s not after the sixth ring of the doorbell that his hand automatically flies on one of the pillows beside him and blindly tossed it on Hoseok’s general direction to silently asked the boy to just ing open the door, followed by grumble of protests from the younger.

He saw Hoseok from the corner of his eyes stood up, toeing the remote control aside out of his way and padding towards the door with heavy footsteps matching his heavy heart because obviously, pausing the movie to answer the door when the action scene was in a crucial moment is annoying and this is against his will. He doesn’t exactly have a choice though.

But what’s behind the door has Hoseok’s creased eyebrows and frown disappearing almost instantly, if not for the split second of being frozen on the spot. Unconsciously, his hand around the doorknob tightens its grip, knuckles turning white, matching his slowly paling face. He stared at the visitor in front of him with eyes wide in utter shock and mouth agape. It’s not exactly that he doesn’t know that this day will come because he clearly knows it will; it’s just that, he hadn’t anticipated the visit this early that it caught him off-guard. He feels his throat had gone dry and his heart had jumped in there, beating harshly and pulling something nauseous from his stomach to vomit.

He’s nervous. Like just the usual.

The man standing at the other side of the door stared back at Hoseok with dark cat-like eyes; piercing, like the orbs are trying to drown him into the darkness of an unknown. Back straight and shoulders squared, clad in crisp black tuxedo, accompanied by a plain dark silk necktie matching his equally strict face. The man has his silvery-gray hair carefully styled up, forehead and thick intimidating eyebrows on full show. His appearance shows an age of mid 40’s but still beautiful, you can tell how handsome he was in his younger age; skin so pale no one will doubt he’s Min Yoongi’s father. It’s as if Hoseok is staring at the slightly older version of his friend.

Mr. Min cocked an eyebrow; lips still tightly pursed in a thin line as he carefully examine the tensed expression of the young man in front of him. He’s a wolf; a young pure bred wolf from one of the largest and strongest packs of Alphas. Of course he knows. He has seen the young man in their own place countless of times since pup. He has seen the wolf with his own son and growing up. He has seen the two form bonds. And he’s been friends – allies – with the Jung’s pack after they agreed about territories since ages ago. And this boy hasn’t changed a bit since the last time they saw each other; still tensed and stiffed, as if afraid of making mistake that may lead to his head decapitated. The elder’s not stupid to do that, though. That’s an obvious call for a war. A bloody war at that.

Hoseok only snaps out of his own thoughts when he noticed the questioning eyebrow and cat-like eyes on him. He shifts on his feet, nervously bringing both hands to his sides. “Ahm…” he clears his throat, straightening his back and bowing to the man in perfect 90 degrees, “Mr. Min,” was all he said before standing straight, forcing himself a small smile but knows he just looked like constipated there, “What are you doing here?” he asked, moving aside to widen the door for the visitor, a clear invitation.

The man, still looking all respected, powerful and intimidating in his stature, boldly studies Hoseok with his eyes, lips twitching very very slightly in an amused smirk. The gesture reminds Hoseok of Yoongi. The resemblance is uncanny.

“Pardon my unannounced visiting, young man. I didn’t mean to show up this early but I think I need to see what’s my son doing? It’s almost been half a year since I let him leave the house. I just want to check if you’re both doing fine,” Mr. Min says in a straight tone, cold and almost sounding uninterested with a hint of sarcasm at the edge as he bore his eyes straight past Hoseok and into the living room where a loud, annoyed growl unleashed from right after the last word.

Mr. Min chuckles lowly and Hoseok can’t help but gulps silently as shivers run down his spine.

“Please come in,” the young wolf says, gesturing for the elder vampire to walk inside.

The man tilts his head very shallowly to one side, as if to say thank you to the young wolf before he finally walks away. That’s when Hoseok found himself releasing a breath he didn’t even know he’s holding the entire time of short conversation with Mr. Min, a prickle of sweat on his forehead and neck. He quickly wipes it with the back of his hand, inhaling and exhaling a breath before moving to close the door.

When he padded back to the living room where he presumes the father and son were, the place was rather empty. Yoongi’s laptop and expensive headphone are on the couch. The television was still on, giving an eerie background sound to the place. Confusion settles in his system until he heard the voices coming from the kitchen. He carefully walks towards it, feet meeting the floor in soft whispers to not disturb the conversation. He slowly and silently peeks from behind the kitchen doorframe and he can’t help but be amused as Mr. Min and Yoongi stands in front of each other, face to face. It’s like he’s seeing the future and very mature Yoongi in the form of the silvery-gray haired man, standing tall and intimidating. He still looks powerful and strict and cold as Hoseok remembers.

“As I have told you, I’m not here to tell you to come back,” Mr. Min says, voice almost sounding like Yoongi’s, slightly slurred and monotonous, “Even though you really don’t have any reason to stay here for long.” And at that, Yoongi’s head snapped at the elder, body tensed and alert. Hoseok can see how the corner of Mr. Min’s lips curl in an amused smirk. “What? Of course, son, I know. We know. And that’s why I’m here. But… but it’s not to tell you to come back and leave the human.”

The confusion that paints Hoseok’s face at the words mirrored Yoongi’s; brows knitted as he asks, “So why?”

Mr. Min slowly pulls the knot of his necktie before popping the first collar button of his dress shirt. It does give him a little less strict aura but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating and powerful. If anything, it just made him looked a bit younger like a bachelor. “Your mother forced me into this. If you were to ask me, I’m just contented to lie in the house and sleep. Or maybe watch your mother padded through every corner of the house. Since I’m not a bit worried about you dying three months from now anymore, yeah, that’s that.”

A silence fell between the two. And Hoseok almost feels his every vein vibrating in uneasiness, though he might admit he’s happy to know that Mr. Min wasn’t there to drag Yoongi’s back to their place.

“So… what are you doing here, father?”

“Oh. Your mother asks me to tell you to bring your human to our place tomorrow night.”

Oh.

Oh.

Maybe, it’s already past midnight; maybe not. Truthfully, Jimin doesn’t know. Well, it’s not like in his current state he still cared about the time. He has long since lost track of what’s happening in the past hours after downing glass after glass of alcohol. And if he’s just a little bit tipsy a few hours back, he sure is not anymore. He doesn’t even know how many times he had tripped on his own feet and slid on the alcohol wet floor. Of how many hands had caught his elbows and waist to save him from face planting after his world had swayed behind his eyelids. All he knows is that, he’s now with someone sitting under a tree behind Seokjin’s apartment; clear of loud background music – although he can still hear the muffled sound but at least the bass isn’t vibrating in his veins anymore, no more gross and sweaty grinding bodies and obnoxious amount of liquor around. The silence somehow eases his foggy mind and the cold breeze gave his lungs air to finally breathe.

Jimin took a deep breath, holding the cold air in his lungs before releasing in a long exhale. It helps straighten his jumbled mind. Sighing and closing his eyes, he straight his legs and locked them on the ankles, planting his hands behind him to support his weight as he leaned back and tipped his head upward. His vision’s still somewhat blurry and the pseudo-mini garden is still spinning a bit even behind his eyelids, but it’s okay; it’s better of a hundred times than the inside. At least here, he doesn’t feel the need to puke every substance in his stomach with every inhale unlike there.

A soft swish of wind caressed his face and the expanse of his exposed neck, cooling the heated skin there; fringe falling over his sweaty eyebrows and painting his cheeks a light blush. The weather is cold and it has been even colder as the end of December approaches, and Jimin knows even in his current state that he shouldn’t stay outside if he doesn’t want to catch cold, moreover in his sweater alone. But his skin feels on fire after drinking one too many beers and he assured himself he wouldn’t stay for long, just until he get rid the fire under hi