1.

Yoongi slammed his bedroom door shut and rammed his fist into the nearest wall. Pain pulsed in his bruised hand and shot up his arm but he barely felt it. He didn't notice the blood. He couldn't shut them out.

The latest screaming match between his parents was filtering through the panel of wood that was his door and he could hear every petty jab they threw at each other. He had a few choice words he'd like to say himself but he knew there was no point; he could be screaming blue ing murder and neither would notice.

After a while quiet descended on the house. Yoongi knew that meant one or both of them had left and prayed it was the latter. He made for the door again but stopped in his tracks when the doorbell downstairs rang. 
No one came without calling, such were the friends and family his parents kept. There was never fighting when company was expected, such were the appearances his parents insisted they keep up despite the reality that existed in their stained home.

The doorbell ran again, and again, and again, and Yoongi was halfway between curious to see who it was and wanting to throttle them. One good thing, he thought, was no one got the door so chances were he was home alone. Leisurely, he opened his door and made his way down the stairs.

The fading light of oncoming dusk filtered through the windows in the entrance hall. Yoongi stopped before the white double doors and let the person ring a couple more times before finally opening it. The person on the other side paused, finger hovering over the doorbell. Yoongi fought to keep his expression neutral. What the was Kim Namjoon doing at his door?

Namjoon breathed a long suffering sigh and opened his mouth to speak. Yoongi beat him to it.

" are you doing here?"

Namjoon raised an eyebrow and looked down at him in that way he did that made Yoongi want to squirm. "You called me." He said flatly.

Yoongi began a snarky reply automatically until he remembered that yes, he had called Namjoon, he'd had to borderline beg him to tutor him because the storm that was his life had gotten infinitely worse and his only escape was slipping through his fingers fast. He needed that scholarship.

"Come in," Yoongi mumbled and stepped aside to let the taller boy pass.

Namjoon walked by him, hand brushing against Yoongi as he did and Yoongi moved back and away. Namjoon didn't seem to notice it so he shrugged it off and closed the door.

"My room is upstairs," Yoongi threw over his shoulder moving in the direction he'd spoken about. Namjoon didn't reply but when Yoongi looked back he was close behind.

2.

The thing about Namjoon, Yoongi thought absently as he listened to him explain Pythagorus' Theorem, was he and Yoongi never really moved in the same circles. Yoongi had seen him around, he was much younger but infuriatingly bigger than he had any business being. He was a year beneath Yoongi but he was the school's poster child. Brilliant Kim with the high IQ. The girls fawned over him and fell over themselves to be close to him and so did a fair many guys. He was a natural leader and they all adored him.

When the Mr. Lee had given Yoongi the ultimatum, catch up or leave the class, he hadn't thought Namjoon would do it, help him catch up with the advanced class so he could be on track to getting the scholarship. But Mr. Lee's threat was more than enough motivation to drive him from his place in the back of the class the the front where Namjoon sat surrounded by his worshippers. It was enough to drive Yoongi to corner him again after school and ask him - plead with him - to help. It was enough to let Yoongi swallow past the lump in his throat and tell Namjoon his address.

"If you aren't going to listen what's the point?" The change in Namjoon's tone caused Yoongi to return to the present.

"What?" Yoongi met his annoyed gaze.

Namjoon sighed and started packing his books up. guck .....

"Sorry!" The word came out louder and more panicked than Yoongi meant it to. Namjoon didn't spare him a glance, he put his books in his bag as if Yoongi hadn't spoken at all. Before Yoongi could think about it his hand shot out and grabbed onto Namjoon's wrist.

They both paused, eyes going to stare at the pale hand and bruise knuckles with dried blood caking it sharply contrasting Namjoon's unbroken golden skin. Yoongi snatched his hand back and his eyes snapped up to meet the concerned, surprised and confused look on Namjoon's face. Yoongi looked away and stuffed the hand in the pocket of his hoodie.

"What happ-" Namjoon began.

"Weren't you leaving?" Yoongi asked acidly.

Namjoon stared at Yoongi, eyes hard, studying him, and Yoongi looked back at him, face carefully free of emotion.

Namjoon rose from his seat in Yoongi's chair and for a moment Yoongi thought he was leaving but then he went around the desk where Yoongi sat and took the bruised hand in his own. Yoongi watched him, still defiantly giving nothing away. Namjoon gently inspected the hand, turning it this way and that before releasing it.

"Where's the first aid kit?" He asked.

"Bathroom," Yoongi relented after a moment, folding under Namjoon's hard unyielding gaze.

"Come," Namjoon left the room fully expecting Yoongi to follow and Yoongi legs moved as if driven by a conscience of their own. Outside the bedroom door Namjoon stopped and waited for Yoongi to lead him down the hall to said bathroom.

3.

Minutes later found Yoongi perched on the counter of his bathroom next to the sink, eyes glued to Namjoon's long fingers wrapping a bandage around hid wrist, legs spread to accommodate the blonde.

Namjoon fastened the bandage but he didn't release Yoongi's hand. The bathroom felt suddenly smaller and Yoongi couldn't make himself move. He was very aware of his own breathing and the matching rise and fall of Namjoon's chest. He didn't are meet his eyes - things were weird enough as it was.

"What happened?" Namjoon was first to break the tense silence.

Yoongi shrugged. He was startled by the way that gentle tone made him want to tell Namjoon everything, how it almost convinced him he could trust him.

"You can tell me," Namjoon coaxed.

"Nothing," he snapped and took his hand out of Namjoon's grasp. He pushed Namjoon back and away from him with more force that he intended and the underclassman collided with the shower door. Yoongi jumped down from his perch on the counter and for a moment felt a pang of regret at the flash of hurt that crossed Namjoon's eyes and the surprise and confusion on his face but that regret was quickly pushed back by the relief of escaping whatever he'd almost gotten himself into. People weren't to be trusted and he ing knew better.

"What the is your problem?" Namjoon asked him.

"Why the do you want to know so badly? What can you do about it? What'll happen? Hmmm? I spill my guts and about my ty life and we go get ice cream and watch a drama while the polish on our nails dries?" Yoongi spat.

Namjoon looked at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. Confusion stilled Yoongi's ranting.

"Well aren't you just an emotionally constipated stereotype. While our nails dry?" Namjoon shook his head in disbelief and clear amusement. Yoongi didn't know what to do with that. Anger he was used to, this, whatever the it was, was new to him. "I'll be back tomorrow. Have your together. I'd like to keep the unsolicited bruises to a minimum."

Yoongi watched him walk out of the bathroom and followed him back to the bedroom at a loss for words. What?

"For the record," Namjoon paused on his way out of the room with his backpack slung over his shoulder, "We all have problems, we all have kinda ty lives to a degree, you aren't the only one though you may very well be a special snowflake. Talking about is better than keeping it bottled up and making yourself bitter. You don't have to tell me anything, but talk to someone."

4.

The following day was a Saturday and Yoongi rolled out of bed at one to find his mother had let Namjoon in.

He hadn't seen Namjoon right away. He'd gotten up, bedhead on max, sleep in his eyes, dark circles, and oversized white shirt stretched out at the neck and brushing his the middle of his thighs, and blindly made his way down the hall, past the study where Namjoon was waiting, and to the bathroom. On his way back, the way into his room was blocked by a warm mass. Yoongi reached out and ran his hands over it, still barely conscious. Then the mass cleared his throat and Yoongi jumped back and his eyes flew open.

"Jesus Christ what the -" Yoongi spluttered.

Namjoon's amused smirk grew, "Good day to you too."

That's when Yoongi remembered his current state of being and whatever he was going to say died in his throat. He was red from his ears to his his toes - the earth was doing that selfish thing it did where it didn't just swallow him up and save him from mortifying experiences. He turned around and ran back up the bathroom.

Half an hour later Yoongi was showered and presentable but the embarrassment of before lingered. He flushed every time Namjoon so much as looked at him. my life, he groused under his breath.

Namjoon was enjoying himself it seemed - if the way he laughed when Yoongi attempted to hide was anything to go by. Soon though they were both too engrossed in the math to notice much else.

Outside, the sound of glass shattering filtered through the thin walls.

Namjoon moved to get up and for the second time Yoongi's hand stopped him.

"Don't." He said quietly.

When Namjoon moved again towards the door at the sound of Min senior's voice Yoongi finally looked up and his hand tightened its hold, "Don't." His eyes pleaded and his voice cracked embarrassingly and Namjoon slowly sank back into his seat.

"Then ing LEAVE!!" that was Yoongi's mom, thin voice straining and words thick with venom. Yoongi cringed.

The fight went on for a long time. With each cutting remark Yoongi's blood boiled but he couldn't move.

When it was over a heavy silence fell and Yoongi released Namjoon's hand and walked across the room to fall backwards onto his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the pressure in his chest. He was tired, too tired to be angry. A part of him wished his father really would just leave and be done with it.

Moments later the bed dipped under the pressure of Namjoon joining him. Yoongi let himself be lifted and gathered into strong arms. He didn't have the energy to fight them. He didn't know he'd been crying until Namjoon was gently wiping his tears away.

5.

Yoongi walked into the classroom with feet dragging. He held his head down and made for the back of the classroom.

It was the Monday after the disaster that was Saturday afternoon. He had ignored all Namjoon's calls, ignored the bell when it rung, but now he would have to face the music. .

He reached his seat fairly quickly and sat down. He wasn't sure what exactly he expected but it probably wasn't what he found; Namjoon was sitting in the desk next to Yoongi's adoring fans nowhere in sight.

"Hey." Namjoon offered.

"Hey?" Yoongi whispered the question.

"Yeah, hey. It's what people say when they greet each other." Namjoon dimpled at him.

The arrival of Mr. Lee saved Yoongi from needing to respond and Yoongi didn't think he'd ever been more happy to see his obnoxious face.

When class ended Yoongi made to leave but Namjoon snatched his backpack and threw it over his own shoulder.

"If I let you, you'll pretend Saturday never happened."

"Yah-" Yoongi protested reaching for his bag but Namjoon raised an eyebrow and dodged him easily.

"But I'm not the type so I won't." Namjoon continued. Yoongi's mouth worked uselessly. Namjoon smiled down at him, "Nothing has to happen Yoongi, but I need you to know you have a friend...if you want one."

Yoongi considered the blonde, dark eyes boring into his open honest ones, head tilted to one side. He remembered how it felt to be Namjoon's...friend. He'd never had that before, not from anyone. He never let himself be vulnerable and no one ever got close enough to try. But Namjoon had been there at the right moment, caught him just as he fell, and now he couldn't forget it.

"Sit with me at lunch?" Namjoon invited. Yoongi nodded cautiously and Namjoon handed him his bag back. "Okay, see you then".