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It’s like the whole dorm is wrapped in a warm, comforting blanket of familiar sounds. There is no schedule to prepare for, no errands to run, nothing that has to be done today; and they are all making the most of it. Hoseok and Jungkook’s laughter and teasing banter is spilling from the living room, where they lie on the carpet – immersed in some old game on one of their consoles. Namjoon’s playlist is seeping out through his earbuds, where he’s curled up on one of the couches with that one book he had wanted to read forever. He looks over at the two on the floor from behind his book from time to time, smiling contently to himself before letting his eyes drift back to the pages in front of him.
And at the kitchen table, Seokjin is slowly losing his mind.
“Oh for the love of... Yoongi, no, that’s not allowed. It’s not even your turn!” He takes the ace the younger had just placed on the table and pushes it back into the mess of cards in his hands, making Yoongi grunt as he tries desperately not to drop all of it to the floor. Again. Taehyung lets out a breathy chuckle from across the table, and Yoongi would smack him, he would, but his hands are full, and his mind is a mess of spades and clubs and knights. He settles on sending him an unimpressed look, but Taehyung is too busy sorting through his own jumble of cards to notice.
When Seokjin had hauled him out of his room earlier, talking about spending some time together on their day off, this really hadn’t been what he expected; playing some ridiculous card game, with rules the older had found on the internet – that no one but him understood. Yoongi was pretty fucking sure he just kept on adding more of them as they played too, which really didn’t help his comprehension at all. The only solace he could find was the fact that Taehyung seemed to struggle just as much as he did, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flicker between his hands and the pile on the table.
Seokjin lets out a small impatient whine, and kicks the younger’s chair a couple of times for good measure. “Come on, Taehyung-ah, just make your damn move.” Taehyung scrambles with the cards as the kicking to his chair continues, trying frantically to remember any of the billion instructions he’d been given.
“I-I’m trying hyung, there are just so many…” He desperately stammers, the rest of the sentence dying on his tongue as he feels a delicate hand begin to card through his unstyled hair. Letting his head fall back, he looks up and finds Jimin smiling softly down at him, his hand having come to rest on the side of his neck instead, thumb slowly ghosting over the youngers skin. Taehyung lets a boxy grin take over his features in return, and it only grows when Jimin scrunches his nose up cutely at him. Neither of them notice Yoongi’s exasperated eye roll, or the slight grumble the oldest huffs out.
“Going somewhere, Jimin?” Seokjin asks, having noticed the dancer’s jacket and the sunglasses perched on top of his blond head. He tries, he really does, to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but he can’t help it. They’re all used to their friend overworking himself, even on the days where they’re all supposed to relax. He’s been really good lately, taking more time to himself and letting his body and mind unwind, but Seokjin can’t help the concern regardless.
Jimin just giggles lightly, looking over and sends him a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry, hyung. I’m just going out to buy snacks for the movie later. Hobi-hyung was supposed to go, but I would feel bad about dragging him away from his game.” Seokjin returns his smile, nodding a little. Taehyung turn around in his chair, making Jimin drop his hand from the younger completely. “Can I go with you?” Jimin’s gaze flicker over to the cards on the table. “Of course Taetae, but aren’t you in the middle of…”
“Oh no, it’s okay,” Taehyung rushes, scrambling out of his chair and almost elbowing the other man in the ribs when hurriedly ridding his hands of his cards, “I wasn’t really any good anyway.” Seokjin sighs, but starts gathering up the mess, knowing a lost case when he sees one. “It’s for the best really, you were winning by a lot – we would never have been able to catch up.”
Taehyung stops in his way to his room, looking back at them with his eyebrows raised in pure astonishment. “I was?” he says just as Yoongi asks confused “he was?” Seokjin throws his arms up in the air in frustration, before slamming the cards down on the table in front of him. “Here, fix this. I need coffee.” He gets up and shuffles over to the kitchen counter, muttering something about living with absolute idiots.
He still hands Yoongi a cup of coffee when it’s done, the laughter of their two dongsaengs disappearing into the hallway fading as the front door clicks shut.
*
Settling on the unoccupied couch, Yoongi warms his hands around the mug, humming lowly as his eyes close in contentment. The soothing smell of the rich black liquid lulling him into a false feeling of serenity he had been longing for ever since they had been informed of their day off.
It lasts for about ten seconds.
Feeling the dip of the couch as Seokjin sits down and the exaggerated sighs and rustling that follows, Yoongi exhales loudly, before opening his eyes and shooting a pointed look at the older.
“What?”
Seokjin sets his cup down at the small coffee table in front of him, staring at it in contemplation for a moment before turning towards him. Yoongi mimics his position, so they’re both sitting sideways on the couch, wordlessly raising a brow at the other man, urging him to get on with it.
“So,” he starts, flicking a piece of his light-brown fringe away from his eyes. “I know we agreed we wouldn’t interfere…” Yoongi groans, throwing his head back. “Not this again.”
“What?” Namjoon questions, having taken out his earbuds and put his book down after seeing the pair walk into the room.
“Hyung wants to tell tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dimwit.” Yoongi grunts, placing his cup on the table next to Seokjin’s, jutting his bottom lip out in a small pout as he mourns the passing of his short blissful moment.
Namjoon opens his mouth to respond, but Jungkook beats him to it. “Yes! Please, please. I beg you,” he whines, falling to the couch next to the leader, dragging Hoseok down with him. Their game lies abandoned on the floor, forgotten in their haste to be a part of this particular conversation.
“I can’t deal with their shit anymore; it’s only getting worse! I don’t even know how that is possible but it is!” Hoseok makes a sound of agreement, running his hand through his hair roughly. “Last week I walked in on them ‘hypothetically’ naming their future dogs again. Again, hyung.”
Seokjin nods furiously, pointing at the dancer with the ferocity of an energizer bunny in heat. “Yes yes, exactly! I just… I can’t… They are just… so fucking dense.” He slumps back in his seat, his sudden burst of vitality seemingly leaving him as soon as it arrived. “It’s been years,” he whines, letting himself sink down until he almost lying on the floor, arse hanging over the edge of the couch. “It’s been years.” He repeats it, a solemn tone to his voice. “They are so ridiculously in love, so completely gone for one another. I know we said we wouldn’t interfere in the beginning, in case it all just… blew over. But it isn’t going to, and we all know it. They are meant to be.”
Hoseok hums in agreement, an almost shameful look settling over his pretty features. “Every time I see them together, knowing that they’re not together-together… I feel so guilty, like, knowing that we could easily just… fix it.” He looks around at the other members, before letting his gaze fall to the hands folded in his lap. “They are two of the best people in this world, and they deserve nothing but happiness. Shouldn’t we, as their friends – no, as their family – do everything we can to ensure that happine…”
“Oh shut the fuck up, Seok-ah” Yoongi groans, cutting the younger off. “You just want to be able to claim the glory for getting them together.” Hoseok stares at him in shock, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times as the sputters, before he huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, frowning like a lactose intolerant child in an ice-cream shop. “Fine. Yes. But all that other shit too, I meant that too.”
“Sure, sure,” Yoongi mumbles, reaching over to take a sip of his now-cold coffee. God damnit.
They all turn to their leader as he clears his throat, having been the only one to not contribute to the conversation yet. “Okay, so I agree with what you’re saying,” Jungkook whoops loudly, almost taking Hoseok’s eye out when he starts waving his arms around.
“But,” Namjoon stresses loudly “We’re not going to do anything.”
Seokjin looks crestfallen, and Yoongi pats him on the shoulder a couple of times in empty comfort. “But why? And before you start with some shit about couples inside the band being a bad idea, I’ll just remind you that we’re both older than you, and I make most your food.”
Namjoon laughs, albeit a little uneasily, and shakes his head. “No, of course not. But they are both adults, and they deserve to do this at their own pace.” “But their pace is so damn slow.” Jungkook mutters beside him, and the leader shoots him a glare just as the sound of the front door opening rings through the apartment. All of the members scramble about, trying to hide the evidence of their conversation – quickly realizing that there is no such thing, and sheepily sitting down again.
“Hello friends and foe, we bringeth snacks!” Taehyung sing-songs as the pair makes their way into the living room, plastic bag in one hand, Jimin’s hand in his other. The dancer giggles at his side, leaning into him for support. “And who exactly is our foe now, Tae?” “No one, I just thought it sounded more dramatic, you know?” “Yeah, like one of those old European plays!” “Oh, we should totally watch Hamlet again when we have time, it’s been so long…” Jungkook lets out something akin to a scream, burrowing his head into one of the couch cushions.
The duo doesn’t notice.
*
Seokjin is dying. He is actually dying, honest to God mentally-writing-his-will-and-planning-his-funeral-dying. Yoongi will get his computer. Namjoon will get his Mario-collection. He would have given it to Taehyung, but he’s pretty sure they won’t let him keep it in prison. And that’s where he’ll be, charged with the murder of Seokjin’s sanity. At least his partner in crime will be there right next to him.
Seokjin briefly wonders if the wardens would let them sneak into each other’s cells for cuddles. No one can really resist a pouting Jimin.
The mentioned criminals are lying on the carpet in front of the TV, paying no mind to the cliché-ridden action movie currently playing – too engrossed in the task of feeding each other sweets, whispering things none of the other members can hear. It’s so ridiculously cute it has Hoseok squirming in his seat, sending desperate pleading looks Namjoon’s way, wanting to speak up. The leader observes him from the corner of his eyes, narrowing them in warning. Jungkook tightens his grip on the pillow in his lap, doing everything in his power to keep his eyes glued to the TV instead of leaping over and beating the two idiots to pulps with his fluffy weapon.
Taehyung laughs, and five pair of eyes snap to the two men, watching as the singer wipes some chocolate from the corner of Jimin’s plush lips, before licking it off his finger. He gently lets his hand rest on the side of the dancer’s face, thumb affectionately running up and down his cheekbone as Jimin leans into the touch. Taehyung smiles softly at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right?”
“NO, NOPE, NO, THAT’S FUCKING IT, I’M DONE!”
Everyone startles and turns to Yoongi, who has jumped up from the couch and is standing pointing with an accusatory finger at the pair on the floor. They both sit up slowly, whilst aiming a finger at themselves mouthing me? in perfect synchronisation.
“Yoongi-ah…” Seokjin tries, glancing back and forth between his boyfriend and his dongsaengs, but Yoongi just shushes him without turning, and takes a step forward. “I can’t deal with your shit anymore. I thought I could, but you make it impossible not to speak up.” The two men look petrified, staring up at the man who is for once towering over the both of them.
“You,” the rapper begins, pointing his finger at Taehyung, “and you,” he turns to Jimin, “love each other. You are in love with each other. There. Now you know.” Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a pleased exhale, feeling the tension of carrying the knowledge for years leave his shoulders.
It’s completely quiet, save for the ridiculous movie still playing in the background. Everyone is figuratively holding their breath, waiting to see what happens next. Jungkook tries to stuff another handful of popcorn into his mouth as soundlessly as possible, overjoyed with finally having some actual entertainment to watch.
Nothing happens.
Yoongi taps his foot impatiently at the ground a couple of times. “What are you waiting for?” he says, looking in between the idiots on the floor. “Now you know. Confess, or something.” The two men blink owlishly up at their hyung for a couple of seconds, before turning to each other.
And then the laughter begins.
The pair is clinging to the other for support as they struggle to breathe, Jimin laughing so hard it’s almost inaudible, only small squeaks escaping his lips from time to time, and Taehyung has actual tears running down his face. Yoongi uncrosses his arms and turns to look at the other members in confusion, only to be met by the same disbelief colouring the other’s faces.
“O-oh, oh ho-holy s-shit,” Taehyung manages to stutter out after a while, raising a shaky hand to wipe at his cheeks. “Hyung, tha-that was amazing, damn.” “Yeah, Yoongi-hyung, y-you scared the crap out of me,” Jimin chuckles, sitting up from where he had fallen back to the floor, holding a hand to his chest as he tries to normalize his breathing. “You looked ready to throw us out of the window.” The dancer’s giggles fade as he finally glances up, eyes landing on Yoongi’s incredulous face. He turns his head, seeing the same look reflected on the other’s features. Jungkook is frozen with one hand stilled on the way from the bowl on the table to his mouth, jaw slack and eyes wide as saucers. Jimin can feel the colour drain from his face.
He reaches out and shakes Taehyung’s shoulder violently without taking his eyes of the members around him. “Taetae, oh my... oh God, he’s serious! Tae!” The younger lets out a chuckle, and turns his head to look at the other. “What?”
Seeing Jimin’s pale profile, and feeling the vicelike grip on his shoulder tighten, his eyes scan the room, before resting on Yoongi. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, mouth falling open. “Wait, what?”
Jimin opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, and he shakes his head, trying to find the words. “Guys, what are you even… we’re already together!”
“WHAT?” comes a collective shout, everyone snapping out of their frozen state at the same time. Yoongi stumbles a couple of steps back, falling back to his previous position on the couch. “Since when?”
Jimin shakes his head again, completely at a loss of how this happened. “For like, three years, what the hell?”
“WHAT?” they all scream again, wincing slightly afterwards at the loud volume. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Seokjin cries, feeling outrageously betrayed.
“WE THOUGHT YOU KNEW!” the couple yells back, staring at the members above them disbelievingly. “What the actual fuck, what did you think we were? You live with us for goodness sake!” Taehyung meets Jimin’s eyes for a second, seeing his own shock replicated there, before looking back at their idiot friends. “You’ve heard us declare our love for years! Hell, you’ve seen us kissing a million times!”
“Yeah, but…” Namjoon scrambles, “We thought it was just platonically! You always talk about how you’re best friends, and they’re always just like… pecks!” Jimin lets out a sound of incredulity, staring at their leader as if he’d grown a second head. “So just because we don’t want to stick our tongues down each other’s throat in front of you guys… and of course we’re best friends, we’re fucking soulmates!”
“And you!” Taehyung points a finger at Jungkook roughly, “You literally walked in on us last year, what the hell did you think we were doing?” Jimin colours a little at the memory, but keeps his eyes trained at Jungkook as well.
The maknae lets out a wounded noise, his already big eyes widening even more. “That was what that was?” he shrieks. Taehyung throws his arms up and groans. “What did you think we were doing?” The youngest is clutching at his chest, staring at his two hyungs in shock. “...a massage?” He says it like a question, the explanation sounding stupid even to him now. “Naked?” Jimin shouts. Jungkook screams again, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, the image in his memory hitting him at full force for the first time.
Jimin turns away from the suffering kid, and looks at the two eldest members instead. “And what about you? As late as last week I asked you to get everyone out of the dorm so that we could celebrate our anniversary alone. How could you possibly have mistaken that for anything else?”
Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before the rapper coughs a little, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “We thought it was like… a friendship-milestone, you know? You’ve always been so weird with things like that. Although I guess you weren’t really…” Yoongi trails off, realization washing over him once again.
Jimin whines, letting himself fall into Taehyung’s side, his boyfriend’s arm winding around his waist instinctively. “We have the densest friends in the whole fucking world, oh my god.”
“Hey!” Seokjin snaps, but the blush creeping up his neck is telling of his wounded pride. “We’re still your hyungs, brat.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, letting his chin rest on top of his partner’s head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jimin drawls, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, as he levels Seokjin with a look. “We have the densest hyungs in in the whole fucking world. Oh my god.”
“And Kookie,” Taehyung adds. The dancer glances over at the maknae, who has taken to rocking softly back and forth, hands still in front of his eyes. He sighs. “And Kookie.”
They all sit in silence for a while, letting the situation sink in. The movie is long over, and the Netflix homepage is blinking back at them mockingly from the screen. Taehyung is drawing soothing cicles on Jimin’s skin under his shirt, and the older lets his lips linger in a small kiss on his neck to let him know he appreciates the effort.
“Wait,” Hoseok suddenly exclaims, straightening up, and pointing at the couple on the floor. “Does this mean you’re actually naming your first dog Taeyang?”
Jimin screams.