Hoseok wakes up to a warm body pressed into his and shallow breaths ghosting over his collar bone. His mind is hazy with sleep; he would move, but he’s too comfortable. Curling into the heat that surrounds him, he leans down and lightly kisses the cheek nestling by his neck, then allows his eyes to close once again. Life's surprising, that’s what Hoseok thinks as he drifts back to sleep. Sometimes the most horrible things bring about the most beautiful results.

TWO YEARS PRIOR

The carpet is beginning to get warm under his feet, and Yoongi fears he may burn holes into the gray-blue yarn. He’s been pacing his room for the past hour or so and contemplating his next move, which seems to be hideout indefinitely until all the occupants of the house have died or until he no longer feels like a world class loser. The first option seems like the winner.

Three days have come and gone since his encounter with Hoseok, which he now refers to as a momentary lack of brain function. He can’t get the image of Hoseok out of his mind, when he pushed the man against the wall, fully intending to take advantage of him as though the person who had been his constant companion and ally through thick and thin was some sort of three dollar hooker.

Shaking his head, hoping to erase the mental image as a picture on an etch-a-sketch, he grimaces when it doesn’t work and runs a hand through his hair, ruffling his black locks in frustration. Yoongi lets out a stifled cry, and the sound bounces off the walls of his small room, echoing back his pain. Walking a few steps more, he decides to give the rug a break and sits on his bed, burying his face in his palms.

What makes the whole situation worse is that he knows what he needs to do. He’s known from the beginning, from that first conversation with Namjoon when he realized that his feelings for Jungkook were anything but brotherly; he knew what to do then. He knew, but in true Yoongi fashion, he kept his mouth shut, kept his feelings to himself, and made himself believe if he ignored it, it would go away, made himself believe that no action was the right action. Well, it wasn’t, and now he's ed everything up.

Falling back on the bed, Yoongi’s head hits the mattress with a soft thud. He finds himself sitting up almost immediately, startled by a knock on his door. Since that day, the momentary lack of brain function, no one has approached him. Okay, technically he’s been hiding out in his room or his studio like a ninja avoiding all human contact, but still--no one has approached him.

“Come in,” he answers reluctantly; he’s not sure he’s ready for human contact. “Come in,” he answers reluctantly, he’s not sure he’s ready for human contact.

“Hey,” Yoongi looks up in shock, surprised to hear Hoseok’s voice coming from the door frame.

“Hey.” He’s not sure what else to say, he stares awkwardly almost gawking at the man.

He feels stupid, no, dirty. He feels dirty, like a erted old man who feels up sleeping girls on public transportation; he saw a video once, why is that thought is his head? Damn it, Yoongi, get it together. He fidgets with his fingers and looks down as though his hand is the most interesting thing in the world. He feels embarrassed and sad, and he can’t look at Hoseok knowing he’s destroyed the most stable relationship he’s ever had and lost his closest friend.

“So, you ever plan on leaving your room?” Hosoek speaks, and there is no hurt or disappointment in the man’s tone. Yoongi swears he hears a smile in the man’s voice—he should look up, just to confirm, but he doesn’t.

“Nope,” he replies, eyes still firmly glued to his hands—when did he get all these veins? “I’ve grown attached to this space and plan on staying here until someone finds my cold, stiff corpse.

“Mmm, well that’s a problem. Because, Rock, Paper, Scissors statistics suggests that joy will be all mine, and to be honest, I’m against dead bodies.” Hoseok chuckles, and Yoongi finds himself breathing a sigh. However, he’s unsure if it’s one of relief or worry.

Yoongi chuckles despite the discomfort he feels; the thought of Hoseok finding his dead body is funnier than it should be, but the man is afraid of flies, so the chuckle can’t be helped.

Finally, finally, Yoongi looks up, and what he sees has hope breaking through the haze of his self-inflicted darkness. Hoseok’s brown eyes are soft and concerned, and he looks warm, so warm. Yoongi has a brief moment of wanting to hug the man, but he knows he can’t.

“I can’t face him, Seok. Hell, I can’t face you. I’ve been a grade A . I destroyed our friendship and ed any chance I may have had with Jungkook. How are you even talking to me right now?” He wants to cry, and that’s a problem because Min Yoongi doesn’t cry.

He hears Hoseok sigh and watches with wide eyes as the man slowly strolls towards him. The bed dips as Hoseok takes a seat beside him, turning slightly to face him. Hoseok smiles, and Yoongi unconsciously returns the action.

“I’m talking to you because you’re my friend and because I love you.”

Yoongi chokes and coughs. Did Hoseok not understand what occurred in their last encounter?

“Relax chief. I said I loved you, not that I’m in love with you. Cocky much?” Hoseok retorts as though reading Yoongi’s mind. The man laughs, and it’s real and bright and feels like the sun shining in Yoongi’s heart.

He looks at Hoseok, really looks at Hoseok, and there’s no anger, no disappointment, no held in resentment cluttering the man’s gaze. What he does see in Hoseok’s dark orbs is kindness, concern, and friendship—and for the first time since Yoongi got himself into this whole mess, he feels the pressure beginning to ease.

“I don’t know what to do Hobi,” he admits. “I screwed up.”

“Yoons, I can vouch for the fact that you didn’t screw this up on your own; you had help, a lot of help. So, let’s work it out together, huh? Let’s end this hermit crab lifestyle that you’ve embraced. You’re not an island Yoongi; you’re human. You’re not meant to survive alone.” He nods taking in all of Hoseok’s words. The man’s right. Yoongi feels very human at the moment.

“How? How do I, uhm, we fix this? I’m sure Jungkook doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say, and even if he did—I have no idea what I would say.” He’s whining, and it’s equally as distressing as crying because Min Yoongi doesn’t whine. EVER.

“First of all, you’re wrong. If you had taken the time to come out of your hole, you would know that the ONLY person Jungkook wants to talk to is you, The poor kid’s so worried about you, he hasn’t eaten properly for the past few days. As for the second thing, I’m sure that once you grow a pair and go to the boy, the words will come. You know what you want to say, Yoongi, we both know you do. Just freaking open your mouth and let the words come out.” Hoseok’s blunt but not malicious, and Yoongi is thankful for their friendship.

He’s stunned into a brief period of silence. Jungkook wants to talk to him, wants to hear from him, is worried about him. He must have heard Hoseok wrong. There is no way someone as precious and lovely as Jungkook is waiting for him, not with all the crap that has transpired between them. He finds his voice.

“He what?” he asks still in disbelief.

“He wants to hear from you, Yoongi. He needs you to tell him what’s going on,” Hoseok reiterates.

“Me? He wants to hear from me?” He’s still confused.

“Yes. You. Now be the man we both know you are, and talk to him. You’re right Yoongi; it’s time for both of us to get what we want. Sometimes home isn’t four walls, Yoongi. Sometimes it’s two eyes and a heartbeat. ” Hoseok’s voice grows soft, and this time Yoongi gives in to his desires and pulls Hoseok into a tight hug.

“I love you too; you know that, right?’

“Of course you do. I’m lovely” Hoseok’s breath is warm against his ear. “We’re good, right?’

“Yeah, if we can survive this, we can survive anything. So yeah, were good. We’re better than good; we’re great, amazing, fantastic and unbreakable.” Yoongi elaborates, and Hoseok laughs against his skin.

“Good, now go apologize to Jungkook and beg him to give you another chance,” Hoseok advises.

They separate.

“What about you and Jimin?”

“I’m working on it, on finding my happiness.” Hoseok’s eyes are shining.

“Good, that makes me happy.” Yoongi means it; he wants Hoseok to be happy.

The room is quite once Hoseok leaves, but it’s not the same quiet darkness that plagued him before the man’s visit. The silence is not heavy this time around because Hoseok brought hope through the doors when he entered, and in true Hoseok style, he left it when he exited.

“You okay,” Taehyung questions him for the third, and Jungkook nods his reply.

It’s a lie; he’s not okay. So much has happened, rumors of things that transpired while Hoseok and Yoongi were left alone, things he knows are true but still refuses to believe. He wants to be angry, but he can’t. He doesn’t have the right. Yoongi doesn’t belong to him. No commitment has been made, no declaration of love, but that doesn’t keep Jungkook from being disappointed and hurt. He’s aware that he’s young, aware that he may not have a grasp on how the world works, but he’s not stupid. He knows what he feels, and he knows it’s real.

People mean well, but he's tired of third-hand info, of others telling him what he should think, what he should feel, how he should react. The hyungs mean well, but Namjoon and Jin have no idea what’s going on with him internally. He just needs a break. It’s why he’s hiding out, finding comfort with Taehyung and Jimin.

“You’re lying,” Jimin states. There’s no bi