The café was quiet, only a few patrons filling the tables. The white floors gleamed, a small cleaning robot insistently cleaning at a spot of dirt that refused to come off. Seated in a corner of the shop, Jungkook waited patiently as Namjoon sat down across him, sliding a small disposable cup of coffee in his direction. “Here you go. I don’t know if it’s good; I’ve never been here before.”

Nodding, he took a hesitant sip, recoiling immediately as the hot liquid burned his tongue. Namjoon snickered oh-so-helpfully.

Setting down the cup, Jungkook sighed as he twirled a stylus in his fingers, staring blankly at the empty word document on his holo-display. “You know,” he said, catching Namjoon’s attention. “Taehyung has these beautiful freckles all across his skin. I can only see them in the right light, but they’re beautiful. Like stars.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, smartly taking the lid off of his coffee to let it cool. “Jungkook.”

Ignoring him, Jungkook continued his little rant. “They kind of shimmer, which is why I noticed them in the first place. It’s like he’s covered in fairy glitter.”

“Jungkook.”

Spinning his stylus again. Jungkook waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a shame that they aren’t always visible. They really are beautiful.”

“Jungkook!” Finally having enough, Namjoon grabbed the stylus from the younger’s hands. “For the love of everything holy, enough about Taehyung’s freckles!” Seeing that his words finally shut Jungkook up, Namjoon let out a heavy breath. “You’re stalling. Just write the damn report already. Please?” The last word was tacked on hastily, as if Namjoon were afraid of what Jungkook would do if he wasn’t polite.

Frowning deeply, Jungkook reached for his stylus. “I know I do. It’s just… These meetings with you, myself, and Taehyung… They feel private. Writing out what happens in a report for dozens of scientists to analyze is so… so… revealing. I don’t want them to see how I feel. They might try and remove me from this project otherwise.”

“But you don’t want that – not anymore, at least.” Namjoon’s words were low and reassuring, a comforting hand finding its way to Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’re afraid that if theses scientists see that you care, see that you feel, that they’ll take you away from Taehyung and the brightness you bring into each other’s lives.” Eyes twinkling, Namjoon nudged Jungkook lightly. “You don’t notice it, but Taehyung makes you so incredibly happy.”

“Because he doesn’t judge.”

Voice wavering, Jungkook shrugged off Namjoon’s hand and turned to his computer once more. “Taehyung doesn’t judge me. He accepts me for who I am, even if he can’t understand everything I say. He is happy and cheerful and bright, even in his situation. Taehyung is everything that I’m not.”

Namjoon let out a rough sigh, leaning across the table. “Jungkook. First of all, I don’t judge you. Neither does Jimin. If anything, you should be the one judging him.” Jungkook chuckled at this, but otherwise remained silent as Namjoon continued. “Secondly, you just don’t let yourself be happy. Taehyung takes away the strict rules you’ve set for yourself because he’s so foreign to you. Heck, even right now you’re trying to depress yourself – hey give that back!”

Snatching his coffee away from Jungkook’s grasp (the latter’s coffee was still too hot to drink, thus the logical course of action was to steal Namjoon’s), Namjoon gave him the stink-eye before setting the cup down. “As I was saying, you’re constantly trying to force yourself to be gloomy. And you’re also trying to stall right ow. Go write that report; I’ll check it over once you’re done if you’re really that worried.”

“Damn. I thought you wouldn’t notice.”

“Please. I was the king of stalling back in my day.”

“Back in your day? You’re such an old man.”

“Shut up, kid.”

Across the room in that very same café, Jimin sat awkwardly, sipping a cup of coffee. A thick, warm jacket sat in the plastic bag next to him, cleaned and folded neatly. He had checked how he looked in the mirror three times this morning, wore his best clothes, and had his favorite snapback sitting on his head.

He was ready for this.

He was ready to face the incredibly gorgeous being known as Min Yoongi.

He could do this.

“Oh, who am I kidding?! I totally can’t!”

Burying his head in his hands out of frustration, Jimin let himself wallow in his insecurities momentarily.

What if Yoongi hated him? What if he wasn’t up to par? What if Jimin, in his nervous and flustered state, accidentally spilled coffee all over him? What if –

“You okay?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jimin smiled shyly at Yoongi. “Y-Yeah, just a little tired. Um…” Nervously, Jimin out the bag holding Yoongi’s jacket, a layer of pink dusting his cheeks. “Thank you for letting me use your coat, Min Yoongi-ssi. I… um, I…”

Go big or go home, Jimin.

“…Can I buy you a coffee as a thanks?”

Yes! He did it! Score!

Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, before a small grin spread across his pale lips. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not much of a coffee drinker.”

Oh.

Jimin’s mood fell instantly, but before he could begin a self-hate session, Yoongi tapped his cheek lightly and continued. “Tell you what; pass me your touch-cell.” Jimin hesitantly took the smooth rectangle of glass from his pocket, handing it over to Yoongi. The mechanic quickly pulled out his own, tapping around of the screen before touching the two devices together. “I’ve just given you my IP code-number; maybe you can take me to lunch one day instead.”

Nodding in a daze, Jimin took the touch-cell back with wide eyes. He just got Yoongi’s number.

He just got Yoongi’s number!

Lips pulling into a brilliant smile, Jimin beamed. “Okay. I’ll see you later?” Yoongi nodded slightly, picking up his forgotten coat before heading towards the door.

Halfway there, a young man with reddish hair, dark eyes, and a slightly longer face grabbed Yoongi’s wrist, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. Yoongi’s eyes darkened at whatever the man said. Pulling his wrist away, Yoongi gave the man a sharp nod, exiting the building briskly.

The stranger, stepping away from Yoongi, locked gazes with Jimin. He smiled brightly, so brightly that Jimin could’ve sworn he was sparkling. A woman with dark, shoulder-length hair and almond eyes tugged on the man’s arm, her voice hushed. The man flashed her a brilliant smile as well, glancing once more at Jimin before the two of them exited the store.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, wondering what the entire exchange was about. And why did that man look so familiar?

Stretching his arms above his head, Jungkook let out a soft groan as he heard something creak. He had stayed up into the wee hours of the night finishing his report, and had ended up falling asleep at his desk when he was done. Taehyung, who had seated himself on the ground comfortably, blinked at Jungkook curiously.

“You okay?”

Jungkook nodded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I just slept oddly last night. Just a kink in my neck, that’s all.”

He could quite literally see Taehyung processing the words; his eyebrows furrowed and tongue slipping between his lips subconsciously. “You… neck hurt? Your neck hurt?”

“Your neck hurts.”

Nodding, Taehyung corrected himself. “Your neck hurts. Your neck hurts?”

Smiling, Jungkook gave Taehyung a quiet applause. “You’ve gotten better. Have you been practicing?”

Taehyung nodded again, patting his cheeks with both hands. Jungkook noticed that Taehyung did that particular motion often and came to the conclusion that it held some sort of cultural relevance. He’d have to ask him about it some time. “Yes. I have a lot of time to preact – practice. Not much things to do here.”

About to ask Taehyung something else, Jungkook jumped as a shrill beep echoed through the area. “Namjoon, what was that?!”

Namjoon, who had been previously seated comfortably on a chair not too far away, leapt to his feet. “Door’s been unlocked and someone’s entering! Stand up!”

Scrambling hastily, Jungkook barely made it to his feet as Mr. Choi swept into the room, lab coat billowing out around him as a semi-circle of scientists fanned out around him. Taehyung cowered.

“Jungkook-ssi, it’s good to see you.” His voice was flat as he adjusted his glasses, scanning the room until his gaze landed upon Taehyung. “How is Subject V?”

Swallowing nervously, Jungkook steeled his nerves. “He’s fine. What brings you here, sir?”

Mr. Choi waved a hand dismissively, turning to Namjoon. Namjoon bowed, the scientists quickly finding seats at the many tables scattered around their half of the room, holo-displays and equipment ready. “Kim. The report Jungkook-ssi sent in said that Subject V is capable of mimicking human language. Is this true?”

Namjoon grit his teeth slightly, bowing his head once more. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Choi hummed affirmatively, dragging a seat out for himself. Namjoon automatically took a place behind him, hands folded behind his back. “I see. Well then, Jungkook-ssi, go on.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, unsure of whether to scream or cry. “What?”

Sighing, Mr. Choi folded his hands and stared at him condescendingly. “Subject V can mimic our language, correct? Show me.”

Now Jungkook panicked. “Sir, I’m really not sure if he’ll want to –”

“Show. Me.”

Biting his lip nervously, Jungkook turned to Taehyung. From behind the glass, he had shrunk into himself, quickly retreating to the shado