Chapter Text
“Jungkook is sulking,” Taehyung announces as soon as his hyung walks in. “And Jimin just sent a mass e-mail to all our customers saying, ‘We’re sorry for the inconvenience, please accept our sincerest ‘uwu’s.”
“What the hell?” Seokjin frowns, Earl Grey tea still warm in his hand. There goes the smooth start to his Monday morning.
“Hyung, it’s not my fault!” Jimin jumps up to his defense. “That flash sale we had a month ago is still up on the app, because someone-” He pointedly gestures towards Jungkook, who looks sullen in the corner, “-refuses to get any work done!”
Petty fights were common at the Kim’s Convenience HQ—the name makes their small excuse of an office sound bigger than it is: 4 cubicles wide, with desks lined up on one side and an L-shaped couch-turned-occasional-stockroom on the other. As the hyung, Seokjin usually had pretty good visibility on the teasing (Jimin), the inciting (Taehyung), and the sulking (Jungkook), except today he has nothing.
Kim’s Convenience was Seokjin’s brainchild; a homegrown delivery app that "treats your goods real good" (copyright pending). Jimin handled Marketing and occasionally, Customer Service, Taehyung managed Trade and Logistics, and Jungkook, their newest addition, was their golden App Developer. They were a small team operating from an even smaller office, but Seokjin thinks that on their good days, they managed their start-up app fairly well. Apparently today was not one of those days, but he digresses.
“Why is the sale still up?” Seokjin asks calmly, even though Jungkook has his back to all of them. “That was 50% off on all fees, that’s kind of a big loss for us.”
“Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung prods, resting his hands on the back of the maknae’s desk chair.
“Taehyungie-hyung, can you tell that man over there that I’m not doing anything he says?” He furrows his brows, looking like an angry Disney bunny. “And, and tell him it’s until further notice.”
“Yah, Jungkook!” Jimin snaps. “You can’t do that to Seokjin-hyung, he’s literally our CEO!” He turns to the man in question then, “Hyung, please fix this. If Jungkook keeps this up, we need to hire a social media manager ASAP because my aegyo does not work on the internet.” He huffs and stands up to leave.
“Duly noted, Jimin, but you can’t just walk—”
Jimin puts a hand up, fussy. “Don’t. I’m going for a smoke break and if anyone interrupts me, I’m quitting.”
“You don’t smoke, though,” Taehyung points out.
“I know, but saying ‘snack break’ doesn’t have the same ring to it.” And with that, the blond is out the door.
Seokjin sighs and finally sits down, setting his tea on his table. It was probably cold by now. “This office is so dramatic.”
“We get it from you, hyung.” Taehyung winks from his side, then turns to glance at Jungkook who’s stubbornly refusing to face them. “And just so you know, Jungkook’s mad ‘cause you didn’t show up for drinks last Friday.” He's trying to be inconspicuous but the office is small enough for Jungkook to hear every word.
“Huh? I don’t remember saying ‘yes’ to that.”
“Exactly!” Jungkook bursts out. Seokjin tries his hardest not to laugh because from where he sits, it looks like the maknae is mad at the wall. “You never say ‘yes’ to any of our plans anymore. Should’ve known it was a lie when you told us this start-up was gonna be like family.”
“That’s how they get ya,” Taehyung tsks under his breath.
“Jungkook,” Seokjin starts, putting on his professional, client-facing voice. “Let me remind you that I am a man of routine, you know I can't just—”
“HyungitwashisbirthdayonFriday,” Taehyung whispers under his breath, then throws in a fake cough for good measure.
At this, Seokjin straightens. He forgot about that. How could he have forgotten about that?
“Yeah,” Jungkook’s angry charade cracks, pink lips tugging downwards against his will. Seokjin can see his pout from his side profile and it's too much—Seokjin is flooded with guilt. “I was…I was gonna treat everyone, since you gave me my pay check that day. It was my first ever.”
“Jungkook,” Seokjin tries again, softly this time. He runs a hand over his face. When he looks back up, Jungkook is finally looking at him, eyes wide and watery in anticipation. “The maknae shouldn’t have to pay for anything.” Jungkook lets out a faint chuckle, so Seokjin goes on, “Hyung is really sorry, things have been…all over the place for me lately. But let me make it up to you. How about tonight? All four of us?”
It takes a second but he can see a hint of a smile on Jungkook's face. “Okay, hyung.”
“I’ll even treat you to beef! Hanwoo!” Seokjin exclaims loudly. This gets the kid grinning, and that gets Seokjin grinning, too. “Sound good?”
“Yes! You’re the best, CEO-nim!”
“Jimin-ah! We’re getting wasted tonight!” Taehyung cheers into his phone, and Seokjin hears Jimin whooping excitedly on the other end.
Kim Taehyung is a lightweight, and two shots of soju are usually enough to get him "wasted" on an average day. Tonight, in this smoking hot Korean BBQ restaurant with unlimited Hanwoo beef on the table care of Seokjin's credit card, he's down to three. After all, this Monday was a cause for celebration; it's the first time in a very, very long while that their hyung did anything remotely "spontaneous" with them. Given how clingy the three maknaes were, his absence didn't go unnoticed—Jimin's cried about it maybe once or twice. If someone gave Taehyung another shot, he might just start crying right now, too.
Seokjin's always told the boys that he's a Man of Routine. Unlike them, he enjoys order and predictability—thrives in it, even. That's why he lives by his on-the-dot schedule, has no qualms saying no to last-minute things, and leaves the office as soon as the clock strikes 5pm. But tonight he decides, if there's anything in this world worth breaking his "In at 9, Out at 5" rule over, it's seeing his spoiled brat of a maknae with his cheeks puffy and filled with rice. That look alone said, all is well.
Across the table, with his belly full and 3 bottles of soju down the hatch between him and the other guys, Jungkook had loosened up and was starting to get noisy/honest. “Hyuuung,” He whines, reaching for Seokjin’s arm across the table. “What is it? Do you not like hanging out with us anymore?” The statement causes a very loud chain reaction.
Taehyung starts to panic. “Hyung, nooooo!”
“Where did we go wrong?” Jimin buries his head in his little hands. "We used to have so much fun together. So many good memories."
“Aish, stop! It’s not that!” Seokjin swats the three of them. “I like you just fine. Although, Jungkook, I’d like you more if you actually did your app developing, you know, like how it says on your job description? No more sulking.” Jungkook shoots him an enthusiastic thumbs up; anything to make his hyung happy. “And Jimin, stop uwu-ing the customers, please.”
“Booo, work talk!” Taehyung cuts in loudly. He swings an arm around Seokjin’s broad shoulders. “Stop changing the topic, hyung. Clearly, there’s something you’re hiding, and we wanna know what.” Taehyung, for all his aloofness, could be real perceptive when he wanted to be. Seokjin was too naïve to think he could get away with it.
“Yeah, hyung!” Jimin pipes up (and makes the executive decision to ignore the comment about the uwus—he was cute and not afraid to flaunt it). “What’s going on with you?”
Three pairs of eyes zero in on him and Seokjin’s ears turn red at the unwanted attention. He thought he could go on for much longer without acknowledging…whatever he had going on. It’s not that he’s doing anything wrong per se; Seokjin’s just very particular about what he shares with his friends. Strictly highlight reel only, because they didn’t need to know that their super hyung slash CEO was a human being who had bad days and real world problems, too! And this—the admittedly odd arrangement Seokjin walked into and under no circumstances wanted to talk about— was definitely more B-roll than highlight reel. Blooper, at best.
“He’s taking too long to think! He’s gonna lie!” Jimin warns, pointing an accusatory finger.
“I’m not gonna lie! How dare you! Maybe Jimin’s the liar, has anyone thought of that, huh?!”
Seokjin is red and fidgety. And diverting—hard. Something clicks in Jungkook’s head, and his mouth drops open into a perfect “O.” “Hyung, do you have a secret boyfriend?”
A beat.
“And you DIDN’T tell us?!” Jimin gasps, offended.
“That’s why you keep rushing to go home, isn’t it?” Jungkook presses, and Seokjin can’t even defend himself because everyone’s simultaneously talking over each other.
“Unless…” Taehyung has his thinking face on, silencing the whole table. From the furrowed brows down to the pursed lips, Seokjin knows whatever he says next will be absolute bullsh— “Hyung, did someone turn you into a vampire?”
Seokjin shakes his head, and Taehyung sighs disappointedly. “I know my face is more youthful than ever and sometimes my skin does sparkle in the sun, but unfortunately Taehyungie, I am human just like you,” Seokjin says, "Also, you see me in daylight all the time. Where were you going with that theory?" While Taehyung takes a moment to reflect, Seokjin racks his brain for a proper explanation. An excuse. A half-truth. Anything! Ah, fuck it. “And as for Jungkook's theory, that’s not it, either. I’m too busy running this damn start-up to have a secret boyfriend. So, quite the opposite of that, really.”
“Secret girlfriend?”
“Ew, no.”
“Hyung, are you having an affai—”
“Stop, no! Roommate!” Seokjin gives up, exasperated. It’s not a big deal, Seokjin tries to convince himself, and he figures the truth will sound less interesting than any sort of lie that the boys' overactive imagination come up with. “It’s—I’m someone’s roommate.”
***
Something is up with Min Yoongi, and Namjoon cannot place it.
Now, let the records show that Kim Namjoon was a damn professional who did not condone wasting precious studio time by airing out private, personal dilemmas that should be dealt with outside office hours. But the thing with Yoongi is, he’s the type to keep quiet about whatever’s bothering him until shit hits the fan and it’s too late to help. With comeback season right around the corner for Genius Lab’s idol groups, there’s a lot at stake, and Namjoon would rather take care of whatever the problem is before things got out of hand. Also, professionalism aside, Namjoon has been Yoongi’s best friend for more than a decade, so there’s that.
But how was he supposed to know? Is Yoongi just grumpy today because the barista got his order wrong, or was it a silent cry for help because the pressure to produce 15 more (PAK-worthy, music show-winning, possible-daesang-awardee) tracks in 3 months was getting to him?
Namjoon decides to think of it like a question in an exam:
Something is up with Min Yoongi. Which of the following odd behaviors might indicate the problem? Encircle all that apply.
a. Declaring that his new working hours were now strictly 6pm to 8am, under the excuse that this schedule helps him “focus” more;
b. Getting the higher ups to approve his request of using the studio exclusively, even on weekends;
c. Refusing any and all attempts of social interaction outside of work hours from his colleagues, namely Namjoon and Hoseok—an act that was previously unheard of (“We can’t even swing by your place for a few drinks, hyung?” Hoseok had asked, dejected, and Namjoon swears it was one of the few times he’s ever seen Hoseok frown);
d. Bringing his own dinner to the studio pantry and unwrapping it as he—wait, what?!
“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok says slowly, eyes trained on the groggy producer and the unassuming cloth-wrapped box in front of him. “Is that…your dinner?” True enough, the guy unknots the cloth and opens up Tupperwares of all sizes, bringing the nostalgic smell of a home-cooked meal to an otherwise sleek, perfumed studio.
It’s not that there’s anything amusing about a grown man bringing his own dinner to the pantry—it is economical and time efficient—but this was Min Yoongi. His blood type was iced coffee, he always insisted that anything other than making music was a waste of time, and he only ever remembered to eat if Namjoon or Hoseok dragged him along by force.
“Yes.” Yoongi replies curtly, not bothering with an explanation.
“You cooked it?” Namjoon asks, the same time Hoseok notices something bright and pink fall off from the cloth and says: “Is that a note?”
Yoongi tenses. “No.”
Namjoon tries to gauge his hyung’s reaction. Clipped and measured and unusually delicate, like he's hiding something. Before he can formulate a proper response, Hoseok thinks out loud, “This is weird. Yoongi-hyung is being weird. Namjoon, why is this weird?”
“You’re making it weird.” Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Just shut up and eat.”
Namjoon shrugs it off and starts poking at his salad, but not before noticing the bright pink piece of paper that Yoongi is clutching under the table. Namjoon smirks to himself and thinks of an answer: E, none of the above, but he’ll get to the bottom of it.
***
Here are my rules, Min Yoongi had said—well, texted, really.
Seokjin’s never seen him. When Seokjin stumbled across an online posting for a roommate located in the central business district with rates that were unheard of in this area, and right when he needed it most, he decided it was fate and said “pick me!” before he had the chance to think about it. Or ask any practical questions. Or wonder what the catch was for a going rate that was super cheap.
One: My day starts at 6pm and ends at 10am. The place is all yours only when I’m not there, plus weekends.
So, apparently, Seokjin had signed on to a humble one-bedroom apartment. The amenities were complete—one bathroom, a fairly-sized living room, a little kitchenette with a modern kitchen bar instead of a traditional dining table, and a "balcony" that was wide enough for two people to stand side-by-side—but clearly, it was meant for one person only. It wasn't shoebox-sized like he had feared; the space was good enough for one, but ran the risk of feeling claustrophobic if shared between two complete strangers. His would-be roommate—this Min Yoongi person—had reasoned that this wouldn't be a problem as they would be sharing the place between different hours of the day. Seokjin would work in the morning and sleep in the evening (like a normal human being), while Min Yoongi did the opposite (like an owl). Thus explains the five-figure rent.
Any rational person would say no. Or at least try to make more sense of the situation. Yoongi had expected to be interrogated about his line of work and even prepared an “I promise I’m not a murderer” spiel just in case.
But, being that Kim Seokjin was Kim Seokjin, he simply wrote back:
Kim Seokjin
When do I move in? 😁
Two: I don’t do small talk. We don’t have to ever meet or know each other.
Kim Seokjin
I appreciate your honesty, Yoongi-ssi, but I’m very charming 😎
You’ll probably end up taking that back
✓ Seen at 12:04
Three: There’s only one bed. Don’t be weird about it.
Kim Seokjin
Hmm…🤔
I feel like that should have been point #1
Kind of a deal breaker
Min Yoongi
should’ve thought about that before signing
it’s a very comfortable bed, though
promise
The queen-sized bed takes up around 70% of the bedroom space and, honestly, Seokjin respects that. It’s a damn good bed. Good-quality oak. Mattress feels like a cloud. A man’s gotta have a sturdy, comfy bed, even if it means it’s the only piece of furniture that fits in the room. Besides, there were no rules about not adding things, and the empty window ledge looked like prime real estate for Seokjin’s plushies.
Four: Don’t have people over. I don’t like strangers in my space.
Kim Seokjin
Really? I never would’ve guessed 🤭
You seem so warm and friendly over text
That was sarcastic, btw
Min Yoongi
ok
Kim Seokjin
You should use emojis every once in a while
Just to switch things up, you know
Min Yoongi
👍
Five: This is a temporary arrangement. 3 months only. After that, you’re out.
Kim Seokjin
Sounds good!
Min Yoongi
…really?
Kim Seokjin
Yes LOL
Why do you sound surprised?
Min Yoongi
just didnt expect anyone to say yes so easily
you literally had no questions
why are u saying yes anyway?
are u a murderer
its ok if u are
Kim Seokjin
Not a murderer!
Just a guy in a bind
But full disclosure, I have to warn you
Min Yoongi
yes?
Kim Seokjin
I do have KILLER looks 😉
Kim Seokjin
Hello??
????
Yoongi-ssi?
***
Their arrangement was simple. Easy. Quiet—just how Yoongi liked it.
In fact, it was so simple, easy, and quiet that Yoongi didn’t even realize it was Seokjin’s move-in day until he was on the train home at 10am and noticed the date on one of the screens.
He’d have to pat himself on the back for this one. Sure, it was non-conventional, but it worked out in the end. If anyone had asked (and he knew no one would, because he’s not planning to tell anyone about it ever), he’d say the idea came to him in a dream.
A 48-hour sleep-deprived, caffeine-induced dream.
He was at Genius Lab at 4am, which is like being in an office at 2pm for someone with a normal body clock, poring over a track that was somehow not right. He had been playing it on loop for thirty minutes, looking for the one thing that was putting him off: he isolated the beats, the instruments, then the melody, over and over again, and before he knew it, he was dreaming.
He dreamt about his bed. His perfectly comfortable blackhole of a bed that, on a good day, could keep him knocked out for 12 hours straight. But thanks to all the overtime work for the most part of the month, his bed had gone untouched. He barely went home to sleep anymore, fueled exclusively by coffee, power naps in the studio, and the constant pressure to produce the next chart-topper.
But now, in this dream, his bed was calling to him.
Half-awake, the thought entered his mind: It’s like no one even lives in my apartment anymore. And then: Why am I even paying rent?
And that was it. His lightbulb moment. To literally any person with regular work hours, his apartment could be a bed space. Sure, he disliked strangers and more so, letting them into his home, but what he hated in people, he could make up for in rent. He’d save quite a lot if he kept this going for a few months—just until the albums are produced, everyone's comeback is over, and he can afford to sleep for as long as he wants again.
Briefly, Yoongi wonders what the stranger he welcomed into his home is like. He knew finding someone who would agree to the set-up wasn’t easy, so he didn’t bother doing a thorough background check after their quick exchange on KKT. Maybe that was foolish of him. But he knew for sure that the guy wasn’t a murderer (he said so himself, and murderers aren’t honest) and that was good enough.
All Yoongi knew about him was his mobile number, birthday, and profile picture from the app, which was a selca taken from what looked like a boat. He had long black hair that fell across his forehead, and half his face was covered by tacky-looking reflective red lens sunglasses. Yoongi didn’t really know what to make of it.
When he finally arrives home, he’s slightly relieved that everything’s in order. Nothing’s changed, really, except that there’s an extra pair of slippers by the door, a black jacket on the coat rack that isn’t his, and a noticeable number of skincare products on his previously bare bathroom shelf.
Yoongi doesn’t overthink it. Besides, he’s exhausted. He falls into bed with a huff, eyes heavy and all but ready to sleep except—something bright, red, and smiling catches his attention from the window sill. He blinks once, twice, before noticing that the entire ledge is lined up with Super Mario characters all staring at him.
That’s new, he thinks, and a tired, amused laugh escapes him. The man his genius plan brought to his door and into his life made sure to bring fluffy provisions. Who was this guy?
He has one last thought: a name—Kim Seokjin—and then he drifts to sleep.
Simple, easy, quiet.