Chapter Text
There isn’t an indicator of what time it is when he wakes up abruptly, his lungs heaving and cold sweat covering his body.
The remnants of fear about some unknown danger in his dreams are still coursing through his body, and out of instinct he frantically looks left and right, trying to see something, find the source of danger –
- But it’s dark, there is barely anything to make out in the black shadows.
But it only takes some seconds to make out the dark shapes of the closet and armchair on the opposite of the room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. There is some light coming through the gap where the curtains don’t close fully, and although it is barely more than some whitish shimmer, it helps to differentiate the dark shapes of furniture from the shadows of the night.
He breathes in deeply, luckily already calming down from whatever nightmare he had, and as the memories of the dream fade quickly like sepia photographs, he gets conscious of the soft comfort surrounding his body.
He sighs, turns on his side, and burrows his face into the soft pillow. The blanket is tucked around his shoulders, warm against the cool air of the room.
He barely remembers how he got into the bed.
Seokjin gave him a bottle of water, walked him back to the guestroom, he –
Oh god .
He cried.
Again.
With a whine of embarrassment, he turns on his other side, pulling the blanket higher.
Why does he cry so much these days?
He is a goddamn adult, and adults don’t cry.
At least not in front of others.
You’re pathetic, boy. No wonder you don’t get anywhere if you are this sensitive.
In his head, it sounds like the voice of his father...but...that doesn’t mean he is wrong.
He cries too much, is too sensitive.
But Seokjin didn’t say anything.
“Yoongi-ah, I’m so sorry for all of this. You don’t deserve any of it.”
He remembers the words, remembers how honest Seokjin sounded when he said that, remembers how he gently brushed away the droplets of silent pain on his face, not once mentioning his tears.
He tries to suppress the feelings, all these memories, all these thoughts.
It’s the middle of the night, and he feels how tired he still is, how his body still craves to rest.
He should try to sleep again.
Surprisingly, it isn’t very difficult to fall asleep for the second time this night.
Even his almost never-resting mind cannot resist the sleep that pulls him under once again.
It isn’t light that wakes him, nor is it another nightmare.
He wakes to the sound of a door closing loudly.
It isn’t even very loud – not as loud as a door that gets thrown shut by his father.
Probably, he is so tuned to listen to this kind of sound that the second the distinct rattle of a door closing loudly echoes through the house, he is ripped out of his slumber, and it leaves him staring at the still closed door of the guestroom – waiting for something, expecting something.
Seconds tick by, but apparently, it was a one-time thing, the sound doesn’t repeat.
Silence returns.
Nothing is going to happen.
The longer he just lies there, the more his body relaxes again.
The room is bright now, even though the curtains still block most of the daylight from behind the window.
How late is it?
He feels much more rested than earlier.
When he moves to sit up, he can feel his body aching here and there – at this point, it feels as if there is always a place on his body that hurts.
The headache is barely noticeable anymore.
It was probably the stress, he thinks.
He relishes in the comfort of the bed.
The air is cool, but not as cool as back home, and the blanket is so much thicker and fluffier, the pillow so plush that his view gets partially covered by the white mountain of fabric.
It is so nice.
He doesn’t want to get up.
But he can’t stay here forever, Seokjin and Jungkook allowed him to stay, but surely, they wouldn’t want to have a guest who stays in the guestroom all day?
So, he gets up.
Slowly.
The warmth of the blanket lifts as he shuffles out of the cocoon he made himself, and a shudder runs over his skin, making goosebumps rise as he sets his feet down on the floor.
His vision is still a little bit hazy from sleep, and he rubs his eyes to get rid of the crumbs of sleep and then yawns.
He should change his clothes and then go down – maybe he can help Seokjin to cook breakfast or...lunch?
He doesn’t know what time it is.
He should go anyway, and if it’s later than he thought, then he should also hurry.
The house is not as quiet as yesterday, he notices as soon as he steps into the hallway.
There is music again and he hears some voices talking, this time from one of the rooms on this floor, though, coming from behind one of the doors. He is curious about what’s behind the closed door, but he would never invade someone’s privacy like this, even less in a house that isn’t his own.
So, he ignores his curiosity.
He walks towards the stairs leading down, his bare feet almost soundless as he walks – it is a skill and habit that formed when he was young, probably. He can’t quite remember when he started doing this, when it was automatic instead of conscious doing.
The living room comes into view, and he is once again fascinated and impressed by the interior, the soft colours and the mix of modern and homey design.
He stops then, not really knowing where to go, what to do, because nobody else seems to be down here yet – at least he thinks so until he hears voices coming from the kitchen.
“Jungkook will tell him, or I will, but not you, Joon.”
That sounds like Seokjin.
It doesn’t really surprise Yoongi, though. He was already expecting to walk into or overhear another conversation. It just happens, he thinks, when he walks around a house that isn’t his own and where six other people are living together – Well, he thinks all six are living in this house, but he isn’t sure.
It seems a little bit unusual to him, but who is he to judge?
“Nobody will tell him anything. I still don’t trust him, and I didn’t even get his file yet. As long as I say ‘no’, it's a no. We have a system, Jin, and we have rules. I will not ignore them for anyone.”
Oh.
That...that sounds like Namjoon.
Just like the last time, he accidentally overhears a conversation he is sure he shouldn’t hear, but it’s not really his fault, either.
He is frozen where he stands, unable to move forward but unwilling to go back to his room.
He is curious about what they are talking about, and even though he is sure he shouldn’t hear it, he gets the feeling that he should hear this.
It seems to be...important.
“Now you’re coming with the rules again? And you do ignore them, you know, if it’s one of us. And you are aware that they are already targeting him, right? If you kick him out of here, Jungkook might not be able to get to him in time. I’m sure you don’t want this to happen.”
Seokjin sounds angry, but it’s still contained. But still, Yoongi doesn’t like an angry Seokjin. It doesn’t fit him, in his opinion. It just doesn’t fit into the picture he has of him.
He likes him much better when he is the gentle, caring hyung who offers hugs.
“You know I’m not above to do what needs to be done to keep you all safe,” Namjoon replies calmly.
What needs to be done ?
Yoongi can think of many interpretations of that sentence.
He doesn’t like any of those that come to his mind, though, and he doesn’t want to think any further about what exactly Namjoon means by that.
“I won’t let you kick him out.”
Why is it that he always overhears a conversation where Namjoon seems to dislike him and wants to kick him out, and Seokjin defends him?
“Hyung,” Namjoon says softer, “I don’t want to fight. I just want to keep you all safe.”
Seokjin’s voice comes after a small pause, softer as well.
“Then don’t fight me on this, Joonie. Trust me, trust Jungkookie, trust Jimin. We are safe, even if he stays here.”
Even though the conversation seems to be ending, he suddenly wants to turn around and avoid them, just like the last time he was here.
He doesn’t like Namjoon. He doesn’t even know him, and the man has already an opinion of him and, based on what he thinks he knows, wants to have him gone from this house.
But on the other hand...he wants to see Seokjin.
“You know they haven’t been in this business as long as we have, and we don’t know him,” Namjoon says then.
Just as he is contemplating if he should turn around and walk back up to the guestroom or if he should go to the kitchen and act as if he didn’t hear anything at all, he feels a breeze behind him, a small shift in the air.
“Morning, Yoongi! It’s good to see you again,” Jimin greets him.
With a small sound of surprise, he turns around.
“Jimin!”
Just a few steps higher on the staircase, towering over him but not in a threatening way, stands Jimin. His grey shirt is rumpled, his hair tousled, and his checkered pants cover his bare feet to the ankle.
“G-Good morning,” he replies.
He must have just gotten out of bed, Yoongi thinks.
Jimin just smiles, a sleepy expression on his face.
“Is anyone else already down here? You are probably searching for-,”
“Yes, but they are experienced enough, they are not gullible. Do you really want to throw him out now? I told you, I will not-,”
“Oh,” Jimin says, almost drowning out Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s voices.
He doesn’t sound pleased.
“They are already awake.”
Yoongi doesn’t say anything, instead he avoids Jimin’s eyes, turning halfway back towards the living room.
He doesn’t know what to say.
Does Jimin think that he eavesdropped?
Well, he did do that. Even if it wasn’t purposely – at first.
A sigh sounds behind him.
“Aish, I’m sorry, Yoongi. They always forget that other people live here too,” he says, and a warm, small hand settles on his shoulder and steers him away from the stairs, making space for Jimin to step on his level and off the stairs.
“Don’t think too much about what they say,” he says then, obviously trying to cheer him up a little bit.
“But -,”
Jimin cut him off before he could even say a second word, smiling a bit mischievously as he says, “how about a coffee?”
Jimin is a gentle person.
Jimin is a caring person.
Jimin is also, Yoongi realizes just now, a mischievous person.
Jimin, the pretty man who is almost the same size as him, is full of surprises.
He doesn’t know Jimin that well yet, he realizes also.
“But Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-ssi are – they are there,” he protests.
Well, it barely counts as a protest.
Jimin doesn’t take is a protest, though, and just continues to steer him towards the kitchen – his small hand on his upper arm warm and steady.
It merely takes some seconds to cross the room from the stairs to the kitchen, and the anxiety about who he would be having to face rises with every single step that he takes.
Seokjin is standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot sitting on top of it.
Namjoon, the tallest of this household, is leaning against the kitchen counter beside him, a little bit of space separating them.
As Jimin and Yoongi enter, side by side, Namjoon’s head whips around to face them, his face turning from what must be a gentle expression to expressionless in a matter of seconds – but not fast enough for Yoongi to miss the change.
It hurts a little bit, unexpectedly.
Seokjin turns around as well, a wooden spoon in his hand and wearing a pink-white striped apron over a blue sweater.
It looks so...so funny, somehow, but it also looks good on Seokjin, and Yoongi would like to say something, smile, something – but the presence of Namjoon makes his mouth stay shut.
“Good morning, hyungs, Yoongi and I came to get some coffee,” Jimin declares cheerfully.
“Of course. There is still some in the can, I just brewed it an hour ago,” Seokjin replies, and his eyes settle on Yoongi’s still form, still standing where Jimin steered him to, but now a bit behind Jimin as he stepped forward to get his coffee.
Yoongi isn’t sure if he should step further into the kitchen or not, though, unsure of Namjoon’s presence, unsure of what he is allowed or not.
Jimin is either oblivious to the tension in the kitchen, or he ignores it on purpose. But Yoongi isn’t like Jimin, he can’t just...just act as if he isn’t intimidated by Namjoon.
“Did you sleep well, Yoongi-ah? Do you feel better?”
It’s Seokjin who asks this question, and Yoongi knows that he asks because ‘if not, we’re going to call the doctor,’ he hears almost behind the words.
“Y-yeah, yes,” he answers.
He knows Seokjin expected a longer answer by the look he gives him, concern and light suspicion mixed in his expression, but maybe he picks up on the tension in Yoongi’s body, how tight he holds himself, how he still hasn’t dared to step further into the room – how he looks, just shortly, at Namjoon, before he looks back at Seokjin again.
At this moment, there is a blubbering sound coming from the pot and a puff of steam rising rapidly, and with a surprised yelp, Seokjin turns back towards the stove and sticks the wooden spoon back into the pot to stir quickly.
“Ah! The soup! You’re all distracting me! It’s going to burn!” He exclaims decidedly too dramatic for the little blubbering pot. Someone chuckles.
Surprised, Yoongi follows the direction of the sound, and his eyes find Namjoon – who immediately notices Yoongi looking at him, and his face returns to the closed-off expression he wore before.
Jimin, however, just laughs, already filling the second cup with the dark brown liquid – the coffee sloshes in the cup as his body shakes subtly with the force of his laughter.
“Hyung, I thought Namjoon-hyung was the one who’s a disaster in the kitchen, not you!”
“Jimin!” Namjoon says sharply, but Jimin ignores it, taking both cups of coffee off the counter.
“Yah, if the soup is burned now it’s your fault, you distracted me,” Seokjin replies and still stirs with one hand while he reaches for something in the cupboard towards the right of his head.
“I am a master chef, Jiminchi, and Joon is –,”
“Seokjin, that’s enough,” Namjoon interrupts him, and Seokjin does stop, but he earns himself a sharp gaze before Seokjin turns back towards his stove.
Yoongi flinches slightly at the sharp tone, instinctively stepping back to...to what?
Namjoon hard gaze then turns towards Yoongi, making him freeze on the spot.
If Namjoon got angry at him, Yoongi is sure that he wouldn’t be able to do anything against the taller man - someone who is not only taller, younger than his father, but obviously also healthier and fitter than his old man.
“Yoongi-ssi, we need to talk. About what happened yesterday.”
At that, Seokjin turns back again, his face now obviously angry, just as Yoongi imagined Seokjin looked when Yoongi eavesdropped earlier.
“You will not, I already said that I will talk with Yoongi-ah and not you.”
“And I said that -,”
“How about neither of you speak about Yoongi as if he isn’t here? It’s only morning and I am not awake enough for stuff like this yet, and I’m sure Yoongi isn’t either.” Jimin sounds uncharacteristically hard, the cheerfulness gone and replaced by a tone that Yoongi hasn’t heard from him before.
But he doesn’t like it.
He doesn’t like that they are upset and unfriendly towards each other just because of him.
He doesn’t like Namjoon, but he also doesn’t want him to be angry at him or his own family.
The urge to fix it gets greater than the anxiety that held back his words until now.
“Ma-Maybe after...after breakfast?” He offers, although he doesn’t want to talk with Namjoon at all. But, apparently, it is necessary.
Jimin stares at Namjoon, his eyes hard, urging him to take it or leave it.
“Yes, then we’ll speak directly after you eat,” he agrees, and he sounds as if he would like to say something else.
Jimin strides towards Yoongi, pushing a cup in his direction until Yoongi has no other choice but to take it, and Seokjin huffs.
“After we ate. I will be with you, Yoongi-ah. We three will speak together.”
And that settles the dread coiling in his stomach a little bit.
If Seokjin is there with them, Namjoon wouldn’t be too harsh, right?
At least Seokjin would...would let nothing hurt him, right?
Would Namjoon – no, Yoongi thinks, Namjoon wouldn’t do anything, even if he is scary. He wouldn’t be surrounded by such nice, loving people if he’d be a scary, bad person....right?
He hopes so.
His stream of thoughts gets interrupted when Jimin steers him, again, out of the kitchen and further into the living room, towards the big windows where they can look outside, where comfortable looking couches – not the one where he lay on yesterday, he notices – are situated around a wooden coffee table in the middle.
As soon as they sit down on the soft couch, Yoongi takes a big gulp of the coffee cradled in between his hands. Luckily, he doesn’t burn his tongue, but it’s still hot enough to let out a hiss.
“It’s still hot, be careful,” Jimin warns him with a small smile, but the rest of his face is strangely…serious.
Yoongi nods.
He feels a little bit...wrong, now that he knows that Namjoon still doesn’t like him, and that he still wants him out of here. It doesn’t help his almost ever present feeling of not belonging, of not having a place where he is welcome – never fully, never wholeheartedly.
“I’m sorry we weren’t here, yesterday,” Jimin starts and Yoongi looks at him over the rim of the cup in his hands.
“Seokjin-hyung and Jungkookie fussed, I heard? They are good at that,” Jimin continues, and now Yoongi notices how similar he looks to the one time, the one night, so similar serious and concerned at the same time, all while his face looks still guarded enough to not betray much else.
Is he really concerned?
“You’re not…you’re not angry?” Yoongi can’t help but ask then.
The thought that Jimin, Taehyung and Seokjin were angry at him had been eating at him since the last time he saw them.
He thought Jimin and Taehyung are angry at him since he practically ran out of the car, disappearing around a street corner, out of view and then too scared to contact them.
He thought Seokjin was angry at him since he ignored his attempt to contact him, only answering so shortly that it must have sounded incredibly rude, and then not texting anything at all.
But Seokjin is not angry at him anymore, he knows that now even if it’s still a bit difficult to understand.
But Jimin…
He cannot imagine that Jimin must be disappointed in him at the very least, how he just ran out on them.
“Why should I?” It sounds even a bit surprised, but it sounds genuine.
“But – But I, I just r-,”
“Yoongi-ah,” Jimin says calmly, “I’m not angry at you. You had your reason, I guess, and Tae and I didn’t stop or contact you either. So, there is nothing to be angry at.”
It sounds so logical, so reasonable, it just makes sense, and…there is nothing opposing in his head right now.
“Oh, o-okay,” he replies stunned.
“Drink your coffee before it gets cold,” he reminds Yoongi and takes a sip himself.
And so, they sit here, drinking their coffee, and basking in the sun shining through the window.
It feels so calm, and Yoongi could almost forget how…yesterday was, what happened.
But it’s just an almost, it’s impossible to forget – sadly.
Now, that he doesn’t move much, he doesn’t hurt so much either, but every time he does, he can feel the marks from yesterday.
“They didn’t say much, about what happened yesterday, but you can talk to me, you know? To the others too.”
Yoongi nods.
“Thank you,” he mutters quietly.
He knows Jimin means well, but doesn’t he know that he isn't really that close to them, especially to Namjoon and Hoseok?
Even Taehyung and Jungkook are still not close enough to him to talk about his feelings with them. Jimin has witnessed a few of his breakdowns already, more than any of them. Jungkook came to his home and is probably the only one who came the closest to see the mess that his life is.
But seeing something and talking about feelings is something else.
Seokjin is the one he would probably go to talk about…feelings.
“Jiminie, Yoongi-ah, breakfast is ready!”
It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to come downstairs and to the table as well, his black clothes oversized as always and his eyes not yet fully open. He looks still half asleep as he sits down.
“Morning, hyungs,” he greets, but as soon as he sees the food on the table, his attention is fully and only on eating the delicious meal in front of him.
It’s cute, Yoongi thinks as he watches him eat.
Yoongi isn't really hungry, though, and he doesn't really know why. But he isn't a stranger to not being hungry because of anxiety, stress, or whatever. So, he eats a few spoonful of rice but pushes most of the other food around on the plate, even though it smells really nice.
Even so, he already feels full just by watching Jungkook stuff the food into his mouth.
“Jungkook, slow down, you’re going to choke on it,” Seokjin warns him, and Yoongi gets the feeling that this, Jungkook stuffing the food in his mouth while he isn’t even fully awake yet, isn’t a rare occurrence.
Jimin sits beside Yoongi, eating at a normal pace, and Seokjin and Namjoon sit at the head of the table.
Yoongi avoids looking at them, mainly because he doesn’t want to look in Namjoon’s direction, and accidentally cross his gaze.
It’s quiet, apart from the music still playing in the background and the sounds of them eating.
Where are Hoseok and Taehyung?
He doesn’t ask.
“Jimin, you need to come with me to the office later,” Namjoon says and Jimin nods and answers “sure,” between the bites, “And Seokjin, we-,“
”Joon, no work things at the table,” Seokjin cuts off whatever Namjoon wanted to say, “we will talk after breakfast,” he adds.
Yoongi expects Namjoon to be upset by how Seokjin speaks to him, be as authoritative as he always is when he speaks with Yoongi, but…he isn’t.
He just sighs, and looks at Seokjin for a moment longer, before he leans back and takes a sip out of his cup.
Yoongi is surprised, honestly. He didn’t expect this reaction.
“Yoongi-ah, doesn’t it taste good? You barely ate anything.”
Yoongi is too whiplashed by the fast change of topic that he needs a moment to process that question, looking down at his plate before looking back up at Seokjin.
“I’m…I’m not really hungry,” he replies, in no way wanting to make Seokjin think that he doesn’t like his cooking – it’s amazing, everything that he ate here in this house. It’s just…just the thought about the talk they are going to have in a few minutes already makes him so nervous that he just cannot get anything down.
Seokjin’s face twists a bit, the realization about why Yoongi is probably not very hungry dawning on him so obviously that Yoongi curses at himself because why am I so obvious?
“Oh, I didn’t think that – okay, lets just talk now, alright? No sense in waiting much longer.
,” he says decidedly and puts down his chopsticks, the sound of it making all of them looking at him.
“Yoongi-ah, Joon, lets go and sit on the couches,” he orders and then looks at Jimin and Jungkook, ”and you both just finish and make sure there is something left for the other two.”
As they do what Seokjin said, he gets the feeling that not only is Seokjin the hyung in this house, but also someone more than just a mother-hen, a carer by nature. There is a similar authority, just like Namjoon’s, hidden underneath his soft looks and weirdly cute patterned sleep clothes.
He follows Seokjin and Namjoon.
Does he have a choice?
Not really, he thinks.
It all feels as if things are happening over his head, the pencil to write his story out of his grasp once again and he is unable to do something.
“Yoongi-ah, don’t be afraid,” Seokjin says as he pushes him down just opposite of where he sat earlier on the soft couch.
“Wait, I’m coming right back,” Namjoon says suddenly and turns back towards the table, mumbling that he really needs to retrieve his not-yet-finished cup of coffee to function right now.
“Hurry, Joon-ah,” chuckles Seokjin and turns to Yoongi, sitting down beside him.
“Tell hyung: Do you feel better today? Is anything still hurting a lot?” His eyes are studying him concerned, flitting over his body and back up to his face.
Yoongi hopes he isn’t as easy to read like a book right now – not still, he hopes -, but he also doesn’t think he can lie that good – at least not to Seokjin. Or…in general.
He isn’t a good liar when it counts.
But he doesn’t really need to lie now, does he?
Nothing really hurts more than yesterday.
“I’m fine,” he mutters a little quiet.
“Oh, really?” There is slight amusement in his voice, lessening the tension that had been building up the second Namjoon said that they needed to talk.
“Hm, I’m okay,” he assures. He doesn’t want to talk about how he is feeling now.
“What do you want to – to talk about?” He asks, attempting to change to topic from himself to the actual reason they are sitting here.
“Ah, well…it’s about-,”
“It is about what happened yesterday. I know you already told Seokjin-hyung and Jungkook what happened, but I need to know if you know anything else,” Namjoon interrupts them, sitting down on the other couch opposite of them with a serious expression on his face.
“Well, that is one thing we want to talk about,” Seokjin adds, “but Joon is right. Is there anything else?”
Why?
Why is it so important?
Why do they care so much?
“Why?”
It’s weird, that someone cares so much that they even ask not once, but multiple times.
He didn’t think Namjoon would care, but apparently, he does…at least a little bit – at least enough to talk to him even though it is clear that he doesn’t even like Yoongi….for whatever reason.
“Why? Yoongi-ah, we all care. Yesterday, what happened, was dangerous, and…and we think that it might, ah,” for the first time since he got to know Seokjin, the elder seems to search for the words, obviously wanting to choose his words carefully.
“We think it might not be the last time something like this happens,” Namjoon finishes for him.
What?
Dread and fear explodes in his stomach, the shockwaves of it traveling through his body in lightning speed, making his limbs tremble.
“What?” He asks breathlessly, not wanting to be true what they are saying.
Yesterday was scary, he was scared, so scared, it was – it was more than just ‘I’m being in the darkness and it is scary’, more like a ‘it’s so scary I think I might die’ - scary.
And they think it would happen again?
Again?
“Yoongi-ah, calm down, nothing is going to happen to you,” Seokjin tries to calm him down, but it sounds so…so muffled, like his voice is coming through the speaker of a cell phone.
“Yoongi, Yoongi-ah, nothing is going to happen,” he repeats himself, his voice so close now, so, So –
“You’re going to stay here, okay? Nothing is going to-,“
“What? Jin, you can’t just-,“
“Really?”
It’s what breaks him out of his little anxiety-induced and panic-riddled bubble.
And it’s his quiet, disbelieving voice that breaks Namjoon and Seokjin’s starting discussion.
“Yes, really,” Seokjin assures, his face shows that he is nothing but genuine about what he says, what he offers.
“But I can’t – I c-can’t stay, not j-just like, like this,” he protests weakly, not really knowing why he protests. Because…
Because isn’t that what he always wanted?
Someone to…to take him away from the danger and darkness of that world?
Someone to care?
But he is sure the offer about staying here is just because of what happened – but…what do they have to do with that?
Why do they think it is going to happen again?
Why do they think they can protect him?
“You can, I – We want you to. That is what we wanted to talk about, actually.”
Namjoon nods then, agreeing to what Seokjin said, although he doesn’t look like he likes it.
“We think it’s safer if you stay here a bit.”
It sounds as if they…as if they want to protect him.
He hopes that they can protect him.
Actually…he wants them to protect him, somehow.
He doesn’t like Namjoon, but Seokjin…he wants to believe Seokjin, wants to believe in Seokjin.
Nobody who offered before meant it, and nobody ever held their word.
He hopes they will.