When he walked through the apartment's door, everyone had already scattered to their respective rooms, apart from Hope who hadn't gone further than the couch.

The guy had literally dropped there and died.

He pushed the door closed with his foot and contemplated his options; he could and actually should lay Jimin down on his very own bed, in the room he shared with Tae and Jungkook. Or he could and probably shouldn't lay him down on Hobi's bed, right beside his own, in their shared room.

Obviously, despite not feeling like giving up Jimin's scent for the night, Yoongi was a good man and walked to the room the three maknaes shared. He tried to push the door quietly with his foot.

The keyword is tried. Because it didn't move. At all.

Clearly realizing the other two drunken fools had absentmindedly locked themselves in, he was left with option two.

Not that he minded though. Low key he didn't.

Walking past a very unconscious J-Hope, he carried the younger in his arms to his own room, the one he shared with the snoring mess on the couch.

He bent over to lay him on the bed, but Jimin tightened his small arms around his neck and nuzzled his face against his chest.

He tried once again, even removing his arms from under his, but the younger still held his arms looped where they were.