VIII

“Do you think he likes me, Taetae? Like, last night, he wrapped his arms around me while we’re watching that scary movie you freaking choose. I hate you for that, by the way,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes before continuing, “but then, he maybe noticed how scared I was because he pulled me close to him and let me tucked my head in his neck. What do you think?” He finished, pulling his feet on the sofa to cross it and tucked under his knees, watching his best friend sprawled wide eagle on their small living room, debating what to play next after Mario Kart.

“What he smells like?” Taehyung, as usual, weirdly asked instead while staring at their ceiling.

But Jimin still does blushed real hard at that. Hiding his face behind his palms as he replays in his head how good Yoongi smells. The musky and faint strawberry scent lingering in his nose. And here’s the secret that everything about Min Yoongi affects his whole body for some unknown reason, leading him to sport an embarrassing tent in his pants just by thinking about the older boy. And now, is not an exemption.

Naughty little boy.

“Taetae, are you really asking me that?”

Taehyung shrugs. Jimin rolls his eyes.

“You mean, like like?”

“I mean, like like. Yes.”

“You know what, Jiminnie?” Taehyung looks bored out of his mind, eyes blank still glued on their ceiling. If Jimin doesn’t know better, he might find Taehyung’s action creepy.

“What?” Jimin breathes, watching the younger.

“You need lord.”

“What?!” Jimin exclaimed, offended.

Taehyung scrambles on the floor, pulling himself up before facing Jimin, mirroring the older boy’s sitting position. “Just because he pulled you to his side and let you nuzzle his neck doesn’t mean he likes you.”

Jimin shrinks in his seat, glaring at the blunt Taehyung. How is he his best friend again?

“We cuddle a lot but we not like like each other, right? And I don’t think that pale scowling hyung has the faintest idea how crushes and love works. So don’t think about it, Jiminnie. Stop right there.”

“You’re so mean,” he mumbles, jutting his lower lip in an obnoxious pout, “How are you even my best friend? Where’s the support, Taetae?”

Taehyung shrugs, lavender fringe caressing his long eyelashes. “I just don’t want you to expect something from that hyung then lose and suffer from a broken heart in the end.”

“Expect what from who?”

Jimin jolts from his seat when he heard the new voice shouting from somewhere in their shared apartment followed by the sound of their shutting door. His head snapped towards the direction too quick he swears he heard something cracked in his neck. Wide eyes, looking at the beaming Jung Hoseok.

“W-What are you doing here, hyung?” he asked after a few beats, heart flipping in his chest.

Did Hoseok hyung heard him talking about Yoongi hyung? He thinks nervously, horror slowly creeping up his system, face heating up so bad.

“Oh, good morning, too, Jiminnie.” Hoseok beams, too bright, almost putting the sun outside to shame. He casually walks over the two young boys, flopping himself on the couch next to Jimin and handing the plastic bag he’s holding – Jimin noticed just now – to Taehyung who’s still on the floor, crawling towards them to reached for the plastic bag.

“Hoseokie hyung called if he could visit us here so I said no problem. I forgot to tell you—oh! You brought pancakes and cupcakes, hyung!” Taehyung