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lofimusings · 2 months

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This is probably the best Jimin one-shot I've ever read. Wow! @remedyx You've done it again!

Silver Stardust

Pairing: Draas!Jimin x Human!(f)reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Fantasy, Alien, Angst, Fluff, Smut, One-Shot

WC: 17.1k

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), kind of/sort of public sex, this turned soft, fluff galore, tiny bit of angst

Thank you so much for the request @ldysmfrst 🥰 Happy (super) late birthday gift, and I'm sorry it took me so long to finish it! I was glad to have the opportunity to write something like this, seeing as how I was thinking about dabbling in a little bit of an alien AU eventually! Hope you enjoy!

“Here.”

The small stack of cash was shoved into my hands. Even without counting it, I knew it was much less than what we had initially agreed upon when I offered to help him clean his store. Just to be sure though, I quickly added it up.

“This isn’t even half of what you told me you’d give me.”

“It’s more than I should be giving away already. Sorry lady, we’re all struggling to get by around here. I got my own family to feed.”

The man waved me off, clearly fed up with my presence and just wanting me out. Part of me wanted to argue, the colorful words I had for him on the tip of my tongue until the bell above the front door chimed announcing someone’s arrival. He turned his attention from me, greeting the customer warmly and rounding the counter intent on securing a sale as he appealed to the older couple slowly making their way towards me. Sighing defeatedly, I opted to cut my losses, stowing the meager pay I’d accumulated into my pocket.

The store owner and couple hardly paid me any mind as I skirted past them, donning the hood of my coat to semi-protect myself from the rain. Another gloomy day to serve as a direct representation of how I felt on the inside. Not that there was much to bring happiness these days anyway. The world was going to shit, hardly anyone could afford to live, the lack of money forced people to take out more loans they were unable to pay, and our planet was dying. What a time to be alive.

I was simply one of millions just trying to survive. My only concern being how to get by day to day. My eyes scanned a sheet of paper that had been plastered to one of dozens of storefronts as I passed by. The key to our salvation lies with them, it read. I shook my head, pushing my fists a little deeper into my pockets. The number of people who spent their days printing and handing out those fliers always baffled me. I didn’t have time to waste on other’s problems, let alone how to save this wretched world. It was a wonder so many other people thought differently.

“Rejoice! For they have brought with them a solution!” I jumped at the sudden shout.

The woman in front of me smiled as if she were truly happy to have run into me. Completely unperturbed by the torrential downpour around us as she had taken shelter under a nearby awning I was passing. One arm filled with the same fliers pasted all over the street, the other urging me to take one of them for myself.

“God has forsaken us, and they have taken it upon themselves to answer our desperate plea for help in His stead. The Draas are our future now and we should repay them accordingly.”

I tried to hide my grimace at the implications of her words. The Draas were a dying race of extraterrestrials. Supposedly one of many out there. The day we came to know of their existence, they had offered to help us in restoring our planet. Bring it back from the brink of destruction. And in a way, they have. At least for those who could afford it. In the beginning, most of the world was looking forward to all our problems being solved quickly. Famine, lack of clean and available water, shelter. The Draas had an affinity for the elements. Their very ancestors having claimed to be derived from nature itself.

While they were more than capable of healing a dying world, doing so also took a toll on them. Apparently reviving a planet as tainted as ours has been a bigger hurdle than anyone expected. Them included. The process a long and arduous one that made progress slow. Especially with how few of them there were. And the longer it took, the more a significant portion of humanity lost hope. I was one of them.

I had pretty much come to terms with the idea that I wouldn’t see the world returned to its former glory in my lifetime. But she was referring to their counteroffer. The Draas had asked for a favor in return for saving Earth. They wished to live alongside us and save their race. Some groups against the Draas entirely believed their reasoning for coming here was to exploit human women. Use them as a means to bring their population up again. Which I suppose wasn’t too far a stretch considering they had indirectly hinted at that in a way.

Despite that request though, none of them seemed particularly interested in taking just any woman. There were no snatching women off the streets or coercing them into serving them solely for the purpose of procreation. Rather, women went willingly. If a Draas would take them, that is. For a dying race, they were notably picky. But I guess they could afford to be. Especially after women caught wind of the Draas searching for life partners and the unearthly pleasures some women have claimed to experience at their hands, there was no shortage of them to choose from.

Clinics had opened under the orders of Draas officials to accommodate the influx of human women willing to sign an agreement stating they would take one of them as a life partner should they be deemed fit for it. Another ploy for them to get one step closer to their goal of repopulating under the guise of providing income for many impoverished people. Another impatient urge of paper in front of my face reminded me of the woman blocking my path. I attempted a half-hearted smile, trying to politely decline the sheet she offered. But she didn’t accept it.

“Take it my dear. It could be the end of your needless suffering and the beginning of a new life.”

I decided to take it from her, albeit unwillingly, but my hope was that she would leave me alone if I did so. Not bothering to read it, I shoved it into a pocket like I had with the sad excuse for a payday I harbored. I yanked the hood of my coat further down on my head praying it would stave off the wind that whipped the pellets of rain with it. In the back of my mind, I thought about the leak in the roof of my bathroom back home. I couldn’t remember whether I had replaced the bucket I kept under it or not. Surely if I made it home quickly there wouldn’t be too much to clean up if I hadn’t.

With that thought, I hastened my pace. Barely stopping long enough for the crosswalk lights to switch. I found myself urging one of them to change impatiently, my eyes flickering between the stoplight for the oncoming traffic and the crosswalk sign across the road from me. That was where I found myself when my eyes landed on him. He wore a beige long coat, the ends of it brushing the tops of his calves. Legs clad in a pair of black slacks that were indistinguishable from the hem of his black turtleneck. All it took was a glance to know that he was not a human amidst the crowd of them waiting on the light like I was.

And I wasn’t just saying that because of the lack of an umbrella, although that would have been the most obvious giveaway. The rain poured down around him, and yet, he remained untouched. His bubblegum pink hair fluffy, recalling the picture I’d seen once of cotton candy. It was like he had an invisible shield around him that repelled the water intent on drenching the rest of us.

I was so caught up in watching him that I didn’t notice the lights change. Not even when he started moving, coming closer. The final nail in the coffin determining he wasn’t human being the way he glowed under the streetlights. That iridescent skin common among the Draas that appealed to their beauty even more. The kaleidoscope of translucent colors over the skin of his cheeks was mesmerizing. What I could see of them anyway with the black shades perched on his nose. I watched transfixed as he strolled through the downpour without a care.

His gait smooth and confident amongst the people that rushed past him. He strode across the road in no hurry. In a way that made it seem as if the world was waiting on him versus the ever-ticking countdown of the clock we humans tended to abide by.

A rough shoulder check from behind me shook me from my stupor. The impact sending me directly into a puddle on my hands and knees with the man responsible barely turning long enough to emit a rushed apology, sprinting across the street before the crosswalk timer made it to zero. I inspected my scraped palms to see the damage, a bit peeved for how this entire day was turning out. Not only was I skimped on payment and facing the possibility of coming home to a flooded bathroom floor, but I was also soaked to the bone.

The water seeped through my pants, practically bathing my knees and down, socks and all. I sighed, rubbing the soreness out of my palms while trying to keep my emotions in check. What a shitty day.

“You should really back away from the road before you end up worse off.”

The hand that was proffered had thin, shapely fingers, a smooth palm and on the backs of them I could trace the veins up until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of a beige coat. His skin was pale except for where the light caught the faint iridescence. My eyes trailed up the arm of the person offering to help me, catching the sliver of a black turtleneck before the color clashed with pink. Both from the shimmer of his skin and his hair that nearly matched it.

He still wore those black shades, but his eyes were the last thing I could have imagined having to split my attention between as a slow, soft smile formed on his plump lips. Pink. Just like the rest of him. It took me another good fifteen seconds or so to realize he meant me. Snapping myself out of it, I took his hand with a quiet thanks letting him help me up out of the puddle I still knelt in.

“Are you alright?” His voice was light, melodic even, as he asked about my wellbeing.

“Other than a couple of scrapes and feeling like a drowned rat, I’m fine.” I laughed under my breath.

I hadn’t realized I still had ahold of his hand until he flipped the one in his grasp over to observe my injury. He hummed in thought before a slight pout tugged at his bottom lip.

“I’m afraid I can’t help with those. It’s a bit out of my scope of ability, but I can make you feel not so much like a ‘drowned rat’.” He chuckled at the last bit.

Even in his somewhat broken tone while speaking my language, I understood him. It was clear he wasn’t used to it. Like how it sounds when a lot of people pick up a second or third language and haven’t mastered it to fluency yet. But he was well-versed enough to get by and his pronunciation decent for me to understand with little difficulty. I found it peculiar. He wasn’t the only Draas to know human language, but it wasn’t terribly common for them to have put as much effort into it as he seemed to have.

“Oh, um, don’t worry about it. I was bound to be in a similar state by the time I made it home anyway.”

The reminder of the rain that still cascaded around us came as an afterthought. The realization that I wasn’t being pelted with it sinking in slowly. Somehow, the bubble he appeared to be shrouded in that made him untouchable extending to me with our proximity. Outside of it, everyone else hurried past us, umbrellas in hand and hoods over their heads to fend off the seemingly endless torrent. Fascinated, I reached out to where it looked as if the invisible shelter above us gave way to rain once more. My fingertips breaching that wall only to be met with the deluge.

“Sometimes I forget you humans find such wonder in things we consider mundane.”

I turned my attention back to him, finding the inquisitive tilt to his head rather endearing in an unanticipated way.

“I don’t typically interact with your kind.” I mumbled, extracting my hand from his grip, and letting both drop to my side. “I suppose it’s to be expected when I don’t often associate with people who can do such things.”

“Then your decision to participate in partner matching is a relatively recent one?”

“What?”

His eyes flicked down to my pockets, nodding towards it. I looked down, noticing the flyer the lady from earlier had beseeched me to take. Quickly, I shoved it back out of sight.

“Oh, no. I’m not interested in… that.”

Even through the impenetrable lenses of his sunglasses, I could feel his eyes searching mine. The bubble around us not only warded off the weather, but also the rest of the world to a degree. Outside conversation and the noises of the city itself sort of muffled. It felt like we were truly in a world of our own. So close to the outside, but not quite part of it.

“How unfortunate.” He finally broke the awkwardness that had manifested within our bubble. “You’re not like them. It would have been a nice change.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I kept quiet. A small smile spread over his lips, his hands lifting and reaching out towards my face. My much smaller frame froze, unsure what he was doing until he pulled the hood of my jacket back into place.

“Be careful, alright?”

His movements were gentle. Double checking that it was secure before letting me go and bidding me one last smile to continue on his way. Part of me was still reeling from our interaction. I had never spent that amount of time in such close conjunction with a Draas. The sudden heavy weight of rain atop my shoulders again pulled me back to where I was and what I had been doing. The reminder of the way it poured down on me making everything within the last couple of minutes feel like a dream. Tugging on my hood, I glanced at the crosswalk light, happy to see it green and despite the low-end of the countdown. I sprinted across the street quickly. I didn’t know if it was the brief reprieve during my encounter with the pink haired Draas, but it felt like the rain around me was coming down harder.

I didn’t let up my pace the rest of the way to my house. The squelching in my shoes serving as a better motivator to get out of the rain and inside than the downpour itself. The first glimpse of my dilapidated porch brought a sense of relief. I slipped under the caving roof, glad that for as rough condition it was in, it was enough to protect me at least a little. Pushing the hood off my head, the first thing that caught my attention was the red paper taped to my front door. My relief was dashed just as I ripped it off.

Eviction Notice

“Fuck.” I groaned, noticing the date on it was this upcoming Friday.

Crumpling the sheet in my hand, I darted back out into the rain. Running the half-block further down the street to where I knew my landlord lived. I didn’t even care that I hadn’t bothered to pull my hood back on. I was already wet for the most part anyway. I ducked under her small awning, reaching the door in record time.

“Mrs. Tran!” My knocking was probably a bit more frantic than was necessary, but I chalked it up to making sure she’d be able to hear me over the rain and whatever sit com she probably had playing on her television.

It took a minute, but the shifting of the curtains next to the door revealed the older lady in question checking to see who was at her stoop. I waved politely, barely catching the small frown before she let the curtains fall back into place and I heard the deadbolt slide back. She pulled the door open just enough to glance at me through the crack.

“What are you doing out in this weather? You’re soaked to the bone.” She fretted, looking me over.

“Mrs. Tran, I need to talk to you.” I told her, holding up the notice.

Her eyes dropped to it, quickly reading it over before sighing softly and opening the door a bit more. She pulled her robe a bit tighter around her to fend off the chill the rain and wind brought with it.

“So, they finally served it.” She mumbled, shaking her head. “I’m sorry dear, you haven’t paid in months. You’re behind at least six months’ worth of payments. I just can’t afford to take what you can get here and there anymore.”

“I can pay!” I interjected quickly. “If I can get the money, will you let me stay?”

She sighed again, looking over my shoulder to the rain-soaked streets behind me.

“If you can pay me everything you owe plus court costs, I’ll let you stay. But I need it by the end of the week.” She relented, grabbing the notice from me.

I watched as she scribbled across the bottom of it. Totaling the amount I owed her, and what she wanted before the week’s end.

“I like you, Y/N, I really do. But I’m struggling like everyone else, and I can’t let you squeak by anymore.” She handed the paper back to me.

“I know, Mrs. Tran. I appreciate what you’ve let me have this far. I’ll get your money to you, I promise.”

She nodded, waving me off. “Get home and dry yourself off before you get sick.”

“Thank you!” I managed to slip in before she closed the door.

Tucking the notice under my jacket, I ran back into the rain. Trying my best to keep the paper from getting wet as I sprinted back to my house. It really wasn’t much, but it was livable. Which was more than enough nowadays when many people found themselves in much worse situations than me. At least I had a roof over my head (as patchy as it was) and a comfortable place to sleep. Quickly sliding my key into the deadbolt and unlocking it, I slammed the door behind me making sure to turn the lock back.

I swiped my wet hair out of my face, kicking my drenched shoes off wanting nothing more than to shower and hide away the rest of the day. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. Tugging the red paper out of my jacket, I looked down at the figure I owed. Feeling disheartened at the large number, I leaned into the door tiredly. I knew it was a shot in the dark offering to begin with, considering I was struggling to find odd jobs let alone a steady paycheck, but it was either that or lose the only home I have. I let the paper drop onto the table nearby, already trying to come up with some way to make that amount of money in less than a week as I shrugged out of my jacket. Remembering the money I had made earlier, I reached into my pockets, figuring it was as a good a start as any, I found not just the cash, but also the flier I had been handed.

The name of one of the Draas clinics in bright bold lettering took up the top of the page. Followed by several photos of proud clinicians and satisfied female customers, information plastered all over it about the mission of the organization and the services they provided. Mostly tailored to Draas and human women relationships. But that wasn’t what was important. At the bottom of the page, the recruitment ad caught my eye. The italicized bit requesting human women who would be willing to potentially be matched to a Draas to schedule an appointment. The guarantee of a hefty amount of money if you passed a physical exam and some additional tests more than enticing. I ran my eyes over the number several times, but it was still there. Five thousand. That’s what they were promising. Not enough for me to pay Mrs. Tran back in full, but it would cut down a significant portion.

I chewed on my bottom lip, unsure. It wasn’t like I had anything against them personally. My limited interactions with the Draas were never unpleasant, but I also didn’t get many chances to get to know them either. In all transparency, they were an alien race that I didn’t know much about besides what I’d heard through the news channels and supporters off the streets.

And here I am considering signing my life away for money.

It was a well-known fact that once a Draas chose a partner, that was it. They spent the rest of their lives with the person they choose, and they took it very seriously. While I had never heard about those few “lucky” women ever complaining, that didn’t mean the weight of being involved with one of them was any less terrifying.

However, my options were limited. Either I bite the bullet and secure a way to make some good money with the possibility of being partnered with a Draas or risk not being able to make anything by the time I need to and being thrown out on the street. As much as I hated it, the choice was blaringly obvious, but the benefits far outweighed the cons in the first option. Besides, there were hundreds, maybe even thousands of women who have already signed up. The chances of me getting picked were incredibly slim.

Satisfied with my logic, I grabbed my phone to schedule an appointment.

For as simple as the decision seemed, my anxiety since I stepped foot in this place hasn’t ebbed. It didn’t matter that I had been here for a good hour and a half, the longer I was here, the worse it got. Though I should have expected as much, the lobby was packed when I first arrived. Some women who I assumed were probably there for much the same reason I was, although I didn’t know if their motives matched mine, and others who looked to be couples. Women with their Draas partners, who looked absolutely thrilled together.

One in particular caught my attention. The Draas fawning over his partner who was noticeably pregnant. If I were being honest, the sight of the two of them spiked my nerves through the roof. Surely on the off chance I was chosen, that wasn’t to be my fate, right? Now that the seed was planted, I couldn’t keep my mind from coming up with frightening scenarios about being stuck with a Draas who would choose me simply for the purpose of procreation. I mean, I guess that was part of the reason that these clinics were brought in existence in the first place. And I supposed most women signed up with the thought that they would eventually have a family with a Draas, but, again, my motives were not the same as most human females that walked through that door. Just as I made to change my mind and get the hell out of there, my name was called, and I was led to a room down the hall where my vitals were written down, photo taken, and I was asked to wait for the doctor to conclude my physical.

Being made to wait in a room, alone, made me even antsier. My leg bouncing before I realized the action and forced myself to stop. I was really beginning to second guess myself now. To anyone paying attention it was obvious I didn’t belong here. Even more so after seeing all the happy couples and excited single women in the lobby. I needed the money, but the more time I had to sit with my own thoughts, the less pertinent that amount of cash seemed. I was even beginning to con myself into thinking I’d be able to make the money some other way.

That thought was what finally pushed me off the exam table and across the room. Double checking I had my belongings, I pushed the door open, peeking around it to see if anyone was there. A lone nurse stood at the end of the hall, deep in conversation with whoever was sat at the nurses’ station. More than confident I could get out of here without being spotted, I slipped through the gap I made, and headed in the opposite direction. I tried to be as quick as possible while still being silent, the quiet tapping of my feet feeling too loud even though the sounds of the clinic around me were much louder. My paranoia kept having me cast looks over my shoulder, making sure the nurse was still locked in conversation and she didn’t see me.

What I should have been paying attention to though was my front. The closer I came to the corner of the hall where I had been led through to get back here in the first place, the quicker my pace became, anxious to get around it and out of sight. Looking behind me once more, I could feel my pulse racing with the thought that I had gotten out of here without being caught. Except, I didn’t.

Someone else walked around the corner at the same moment I sprinted for it, my body colliding with theirs harshly. Whoever it was, it had effectively caught them off guard, their compromised balance coupled with my body weight had the both of us falling into the nearby wall, with my chest against theirs. The sudden collision caught both of us by surprise. Hands came up to my shoulders, pushing me away just enough to look down at me. I first noticed the white coat wrapped around his torso, then the stethoscope around his neck before my eyes met his. The shock still evident in those lavender orbs as his brows furrowed in concern.

"Are you alright?" The tone of his voice was deep and rich, a sound I wasn't used to hearing, but it was pleasant.

The subtle iridescence of his skin shimmered a purple in almost the exact same shade as his eyes under the bright artificial hospital lights. Draas. Quickly backpedaling, I fought the blush trying to surface and apologized.

"Yes, I'm fine! I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

At my reassurance, his gaze softened, a slow smile taking the place of his worry. The appearance bringing a set of deep dimples with it.

"It's okay. Accidents happen sometimes."

His eyes dropped to the plastic bracelet that had been handed to me upon arrival. Filled with all the information I had previously supplied when completing paperwork in the lobby.

"You're a patient?"

"Um..."

The smile shifted into more of a knowing smirk.

"You don't happen to be Y/N, do you?"

"I... am." I agreed slowly.

The man lifted his arm, holding out a hand for me to shake. Hesitantly, I accepted.

"I'm Dr. Kim Namjoon. I was actually on my way to retrieve you."

"Right... actually I wanted to talk ab-"

"It's not often we have females chosen so quickly in our systems. I'd say it's rare. You must have made an impression somehow." He continued happily.

"Wait, what?"

"I came to bring you to your match. He's already showed an interest in you."

The color drained from my face. My match? There's no way. Matching never happens this quickly. Everything I read had explained it to be a rather tedious process. Your files and test results would have to be reviewed, the Draas would sort through candidates that met their qualifications, and if a female was chosen, she would be given the opportunity to meet them if she wanted.

The fact that all of this was happening within a few hours of me being here is unheard of. Dr. Kim placed a hand high on my back, the other sweeping out in front of me invitingly.

"Shall we?"

"Wait, right now?"

He hummed, nudging me gently to get me moving in the direction he had come from.

"He's just down this hallway, waiting for you. He's actually a good friend of mine, I'm sure you won't be disappointed."

That wasn't really my concern. It didn't matter to me who he was really, I didn't think I was ready to meet anyone so soon after making a decision I was currently heavily regretting. Everything I had promised myself wouldn't happen, was happening. I was registered and one of the Draas insisted on meeting me already.

I chewed on my lip, every step further down the hall forcing the urge to tell Dr. Kim I had changed my mind higher up my throat. Perhaps I'd be able to convince the Draas himself that it was a mistake. Surely he would understand the circumstances that brought me here in the first place and take pity on me. A door down the hall several feet in front of us swung open, another Draas dressed in the black armor that was typical among highly ranked officials responsible for the rebirth of our planet so to speak.

Only those with considerable strength and abilities wore the black plated chest pieces and bodysuits. I froze upon seeing him. It was the first time I had ever seen one like him in person. Surely that's not who I was being brought to meet. The only skin visible was his face where he had removed his helmet. Flesh shimmering under the bright lights much like Dr. Kim's as he turned to face us. I was struck with how beautiful he was. Blonde hair swept over his forehead, full lips, and high cheekbones. The real kicker were his eyes, though. They were a rich gold, reminiscent of liquid sun droplets as he greeted Dr. Kim with a subtle incline of his head.

"Commander Kim, I haven't seen you in a while."

"Well, you know me, I don't usually inhabit places like these." He mumbled, eyes finally meeting mine. "This is her?"

"Y/N L/N." Dr. Kim nodded. "Have you finished speaking with Commander Park?"

The other man grunted. "If you can call it that. He's in one of his moods."

Moods? My eyes flicked to the doorway Commander Kim had emerged from. Commander Park, that's how Dr. Kim referred to him. So, that meant he was a ranked official too. Another gentle nudge from Dr. Kim guided me towards the door.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be glad to see Ms. L/N regardless. I'll come find you after I've gotten her settled in."

I glanced at the doctor over my shoulder. This whole situation just kept getting stranger. Commander Kim shook his head, turning on his heel and sauntering off down the hall.

"Don't bother. I'm not interested in you meddling in my love life." He tossed over his shoulder.

"If anyone would benefit, I'd say it would be you."

The new voice startled me. I whipped my head in the direction it came from, surprised to see someone vaguely familiar. Out of the corner of my eye, I hardly registered Commander Kim waving off the statement, not even bothering to turn around. My gaze was trained on the man, er, Draas, in front of me with the same bubblegum pink hair he had been sporting the last time I had encountered him.

"Commander Park, this is Ms. Y/N L/N. Ms. L/N, this is Commander Park Jimin, your match."

My eyes widened with the realization. He looked different from the last time we had met. No longer donned in casual clothing, but his black plated armor, the brightness of his hair a stark contrast against the bleak color. What really caught my attention though were his eyes. The thick black sunglasses he had been wearing having obscured the endless pools of silver that almost appeared to shimmer just like the iridescence of his skin.

Amusement danced within them as he watched me slowly connect the dots. Lean body stepping aside enough to allow me entry to the room he occupied.

"Please, come in."

Forcing myself from my stupor, I silently obeyed, crossing the threshold.

"Thank you Namjoon."

"Sure. Take your time. I'll go hunt down Seokjin."

I was still trying to process everything as the door shut. The click of the lock much too similar to a bell toll signaling a sense of finality. As if I was leaving behind the world I knew and entering a new one. In a way, I suppose I was. Jimin's careful observation of me continued, silver orbs tracking every minuscule movement of mine as he leaned against the only exit. Clearing my throat, I moved further into the room, just wanting to put a bit of distance between us.

"I'll be honest, you're the last person I expected to see today." I admitted.

He smirked, amusement glowing brighter as his head tilted to one side.

"Imagine mine seeing you in the system under review. I thought you weren't interested?"

"I'm not." I answered a little too quickly. "I mean, I wasn't. Some things have come up and I made an appointment... a-anyway it doesn't really matter now, I changed my mind."

"Changed your mind?"

"Yes. I was going to ask Dr. Kim to pull my information."

Jimin's gaze was heavy as he slowly looked me over, arms crossing over his chest.

"I can pull your information. It wouldn't be hard considering you weren't even approved yet."

I frowned; confusion evident on my features.

"Wait, if I hadn't even been on the list of candidates, then how did you file for a match already?"

"Someone did her research." Jimin grinned, pushing himself off the door.

"Well, I wanted to know at least a little about what I was getting myself into."

"And yet, here you are changing your mind." He chuckled, dropping his arms as he moved towards me.

I noticed it that day in the rain, how graceful his movements were, but seeing it again with him dressed in his uniform, it was like witnessing the grace and elegance for the first time all over again. He moved silently, coming to a stop right in front of me.

"To answer your question, I have access to files under review as well as the officially released list of candidates. I simply recognized you and requested a match."

I tried to nonchalantly keep the distance between us. Going toe to toe with a human was one thing, but I'd be lying if I claimed being in such close proximity in closed quarters with a Draas wasn't making me nervous.

"But why? If I haven't been appropriately reviewed to be certain I'd make a good match for a Draas, what would drive you to request a match with me?"

"Because I find you interesting."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "We've met once. Not even really met, you helped me out of the street."

"And? I like to think I have a pretty good sense for people. Besides, I'm sure you have your own preconceived notions of me."

I eyed him for another few seconds before relenting. Shrugging as I turned my head from him.

"Touché."

One gloved hand lifted towards my face, a single finger curling under my chin and dragging my gaze back to his. Once again, I found myself sucked into those silver swirls. The color appearing to absorb the shades they took in. Blues, pinks, even a stormier gray flickered within those depths as they searched mine.

"I'll make sure you're pulled from candidacy, but only because I plan to keep you for myself."

"What?" I sputtered dumbly, mind still buffering even though I knew I didn't mishear him.

He released my chin, that same finger tapping my nose playfully.

"I don't like sharing."

The smile tugging at his lips mirrored the same playfulness. I might have been a little annoyed at seeing it if I wasn't still reeling with how nonchalantly he had claimed me. He turned on his heel, sauntering back towards the door until my hold on his arm abruptly stopped him.

"Wait. Jimin, was it?"

He nodded, those bubblegum locks falling into his line of sight as he cocked his head at me.

"When I asked for my name to be taken off the list, I meant so I wouldn't be picked at all."

"I'm aware."

My confusion doubled, completely at a loss for words. I opened my mouth, hardly a noise leaving me while I tried to figure out exactly what the hell was happening.

"Okay, well that includes you. I don't want to be matched with any Draas."

He hummed, that amused grin tugging at those perfectly plush pink lips again.

"That's too bad because I've already made up my mind."

He made to walk off again; except I tugged him back.

"That's too bad..." I parroted, moving in front of him. "...because I made up my mind too and it doesn't involve going with you."

The flash in his silver orbs was something I hadn't seen yet. There was still a flicker of amusement in them, but another emotion was more prominent. Excitement. The heel of his boot clicked against the linoleum as he took a step closer.

"I'm curious little dove, if you knew there was a possibility you'd back out of registering, why did you go through it in the first place?"

I folded my arms, taking a step back while making sure I still stood between him and the door.

"I told you, my situation changed."

Another tilt of his head. I wondered if it was a common habit among Draas or just him. Coupled with the curiousness in his expression, it was hard to tell if he did it because he was trying to figure me out or understand me. Although for someone with human tongue as their second language, he was doing remarkably well. He pondered exactly what my reasoning meant until it suddenly clicked.

"Your situation changed financially, yes?"

I scrunched my nose in distaste. I didn't really like talking about how I was struggling, but if it would get me out of here quicker I was willing to.

"To put it bluntly." I nodded.

He looked satisfied to have guessed correctly, spine straightening while he smiled widely. It was impossible not to be smitten with how attractive he was smiling. His cheeks lifted, exposing perfectly straight, porcelain teeth and his eyes crinkled. The lights overhead captured the baby blue glow from his skin adding another element of ethereal beauty to him.

"That's no cause for concern. Where do your debts lie? I'd be more than happy to take care of them for you as your partner."

The way he immediately agreed to pay what I owed made my head spin. Perhaps even more than how fast all of this was moving in the first place. I shook my head, realizing that I really was in over my head here. Maybe I wasn't articulating well enough, and he wasn't understanding correctly.

"No, Jimin, I didn't mean for you to pay for me."

"Same difference though. If not me, it would have fallen to another Draas you took as your partner."

"No." I firmly denied, starting to get frustrated. "I wouldn't have taken money from someone else either."

Jimin's smile disappeared. Expression falling into one akin to sadness and I would imagine that if Draas had tails, his would have been tucked between his legs at this point. His bottom lip pushed out just a tad as he pouted.

"Is it me? Is there something about me that doesn't suit you?" His head cocked to the side again, feet carrying him closer as he approached me. "Is it the language barrier? I know I still struggle on occasion, but I promise I'll keep working at it. Or maybe the way I look? I can change that too. Dye my hair if you don't like pink. I picked it because pink is my favorite color, but I wouldn't mind wearing your favorite color if it made you happy. Or-"

I threw my hands out to make him stop. He was spiraling and, to be honest, the words coming from him were more upsetting than anything else he had mentioned to me thus far. Were all Draas so fixated on their partners that they were willing to go so far? This desperation I sensed from Jimin wasn't something I was equipped to handle. I felt bad that he thought the reason I was rejecting him was because he wasn't meeting my standards.

"Jimin, there's nothing wrong with the way you look, and I'm not concerned about the language barrier."

My words only served to puzzle him further. A huff of exasperation leaving him.

"Then what is it? If it’s something I can change, I'm more than willing to do so."

"You can't change it. It has nothing to do with you. I just don't want a partner."

His brows furrowed, that utter confusion returning as he stared hard at me. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, I averted my eyes. That was the wrong thing to do though apparently. Jimin took another step into me, large hands coming up to cup my face. The abrupt contact had me stumbling backwards into the door, Jimin following me without letting go.

He tilted my head up, forcing me to meet his silvery stare again. The look in them was indiscernible. It left me with no hint as to what he might have been thinking. Left with only my assumptions, it felt like I was being swept away in those silver pools and the further it pulled me in, the more I was losing my resolve.

"Because I'm Draas?"

I blinked, attempting to drag myself out of those oceans before his words penetrated my brain.

"Draas?"

"You would prefer a human partner?"

Oh. I shook my head the little I could with his palms covering my cheeks.

"I don't want a partner at all. Human or otherwise."

Finally, some piece of emotion broke through once more as he struggled with what I was suggesting. Although maybe it would have been better if he had remained impassive as I took note of the pity with which he looked down at me with. The thumb of his right hand brushed over the swell of my cheek. The contact gentle, but made my heart pound violently, nonetheless.

"You would prefer to be alone?"

Alone. The mundane word left me with an ache in my chest. I had spent most of my life on my own. Having lost both my parents at a relatively young age and being forced to fend for myself, I was used to it. A relationship wasn't something I had really considered for myself being so occupied with taking care of me first and foremost.

Although, having it brought to my attention like this made me question my future. Honestly, I never thought about it. Surviving day to day was hard enough, I didn't need to be daydreaming about things that may never come to fruition on top of it. Prior to becoming like this though, I did have a family and we loved each other dearly. Losing them was the hardest thing I'd ever experienced. Even more than the life I struggled in now.

One day, I would hope to have even a sliver of that back. Eventually. Hopefully.

"For now, yes."

"For now? What does that mean? What must change between now and then?"

"My life." I muttered under my breath.

Jimin's fingers pressed into my cheeks a little harder, expression falling into melancholy.

"Let me change it then."

"Why? You don't even know me. I'm not interested in partnering with you, I haven't even been screened properly. Why are you pushing this matter?"

"I've told you before. I find you fascinating."

I sighed heavily. "That's not an answer. Especially when I know there's a host of human women more than happy to take you up on your offer. Why do you want me? What can I possibly offer you that another woman can't?"

That pensiveness was back. Jimin falling into contemplation that left me unable to determine his thoughts. The silver that threatened to drown me before morphing into a solid state. I was stuck. Body immobile like I had stepped into wet concrete and let it harden around me. Jimin caressed my cheek softly.

"Companionship." He answered. "I want someone I can open up to and be accepted by without me having to hide who I am."

I smiled wryly, reaching up to pull his hand off my face.

"I'm sorry to burst your idealistic bubble, but we've established I came here because I was guaranteed money just for registering."

He chuckled, turning his hand in mine to intertwine our fingers.

"True that you have ulterior motives. However, yours are still very different from most women. Many of them sign up for the status they believe it gets them. The title and privilege of being able to say they've partnered with a Draas. They look at us as separate beings." He squeezed my hand in his, eyes twinkling again. "I want an equal. Someone who sees me as they see themselves. Not better, not less. A woman who sees me and not what I can sustain her with."

"So, then, earlier when you went on that rant of begging me to accept you..."

"An act." He shrugged. "I wanted to know how you would react to such a proposal. Now that I have my answer, I'm not above begging for real this time."

He smiled widely, my heart palpitations betraying the logical side of me that still refused to cave under his charm. Although it wasn't enough to keep a smile of my own from meeting his.

"Commander Park, you're quite the convincing actor." I admitted, laughing under my breath.

He chuckled with me, bringing my hand to his face to leave a kiss against the back of my palm. The gesture didn't help my heart calm down any, the flood of red to my cheeks indicative of just how much it affected me.

"Let me help you. In return, all I ask for is a friend. We'll have to complete the registration as partners unless you want other Draas to come knocking at your door, but I promise I won't ask more from you than what you're willing to give."

"This arrangement doesn’t seem all that fair for you."

He hummed, letting his hands drop.

"Don't worry about that. You're giving me exactly what I want if you accept."

He allowed me a bit of space, filling the gap he created with one hand out between us.

"What do you say Ms. L/N? Partners, in the most platonic sense of the word?"

I pondered for a moment. In actuality, this was the best-case scenario for a decision I had made in a moment of desperation. Jimin was offering me a way out and all he wanted in return was someone he could confide in essentially. I didn't know for sure what all he dealt with daily that made him feel he had to hide himself, but I suppose I would find that out eventually if I chose to accept. Besides, it was obvious that it would either be him or a different Draas. And who's to say I would get this lucky twice?

"Alright Commander Park, you have yourself a deal." I answered, taking his hand.

Spending time with Jimin wasn't all that bad. Being around so many Draas at any given time took some getting used to. I quickly came to realize that Jimin was not only a highly ranked official by my standards, but also by the Draas as there were several younger (at least according to Jimin) males that looked up to him as their leader. Several months into our new arrangement, after moving in with Jimin because apparently staying a part from one another after agreeing to become partners was throwing up some red flags, I became aware of how much leverage Jimin held among the ranks of Draas living on Earth.

It wasn't just him either. I had run into Commander Kim a few more times on the occasions he came to visit Jimin and discuss matters related to the revival of the planet we all inhabited. He was another Draas that held power rivaling Jimin's, although whereas I knew Jimin influenced water as his element (which made a lot of sense thinking back on when we met), Commander Kim, or Seokjin, as Jimin referred to him when the older man wasn't paying attention, was able to conjure the many different states water was in such as ice and vapor on top of its liquid form.

Jimin respected him as a superior and teacher and, in return, Seokjin treated Jimin much like he would a younger sibling. The other Draas that I've kept contact with more than I expected was Dr. Kim. Although he was aware of Jimin and I's agreement as nothing more than friends to one another, we still had to schedule regular appointments to check up on us. Partially as hospital protocol and in part to sate the curiosity of Dr. Kim. I guess it's unusual for a Draas and human female to be together as not romantically involved partners. Other than the two of them, I've met some of Jimin's other closest comrades. Commanders and the like who hold ranks within their respective fields of abilities.

The short time with Jimin has taught me a lot. Much like Earth, Draas have a hierarchy among their people. Split between those who share certain abilities and their partners. Most of whom don't associate with one another much outside of the matching program unless they were diplomats. Sort of like Jimin and Seokjin.

Apparently the friendship he shared with the other faction leaders was a special one. Because apart from them, I hardly ever saw Draas of different abilities mingling. Another interesting tidbit I managed to pick up on was the lengths in which most Draas went to avoid humans. Those who weren't partnered and weren't looking, hardly spared a glance to any of us. Jimin had explained to me that even among the Draas, there were those who weren't exactly keen on the idea of sharing the planet with us, let alone the only option for partnering being human females. I tried my best to avoid Draas who shared those views. Easier said than done however, as I shortly found out that one of Jimin's comrades that he shared such a connection with was one of them.

Yoongi had never outrightly been rude towards me, but it was clear he'd rather not associate with me if Jimin wasn't there. Jimin had written it off, saying it had more to do with his affinity for fire than the man himself. Which I would have been inclined to believe if Jungkook hadn't shared the same affinity and yet remained the polar opposite of his teacher.

Jungkook was a force to be reckoned with. He was a bright and fearless personality, one that I had wondered in many instances how Yoongi managed to keep up with him. If I were comparing them with their penchant for fire capabilities, Yoongi would be the floating embers ready to ignite at any moment while Jungkook was the raging flames on the verge of swallowing everything around him.

Opposites they were, they understood each other without much difficulty. Sometimes it felt like they could fathom one another better than Jimin and Seokjin could. As curious as it was, I didn't want to inquire too much about it lest I incur the wrath of Yoongi or whatever. Besides, Jimin had enough mystery around him and his abilities to keep me occupied.

"So, is that why you live so far out here? Because of the lake?"

Jimin nodded, the same black shades pushed up his nose as he let his legs hang off the dock, bare feet in the water.

"More or less. Living next to a pond or even a stream probably would have sufficed, but I like it out here. It's quieter and the water is less tainted."

I had to agree. Living in the city all my life, I hadn't ever seen a place so beautiful. Nature ruled the land here. The trees and grass lively unlike what were in the city.

"Being in close connection with our element restores us. The energy it takes to bring back your planet is significant. I guess you could call it a double-edged sword or a constant sphere of transfer. The Earth needs energy to come back to life and we need that energy to sustain it. There are very few places left on your planet capable of providing excess energy for us to use, this is one of them."

"So, you're saying you and water share the same lifeforce?"

"I am water and water is me. Same for Seokjin. Just like fire is Jungkook and Yoongi and vice versa, so on and so forth."

It was a complicated notion for me to wrap my head around. I guess because I lived off the Earth in a different way than he did. In the end though, I suppose it was still giving life.

"Your home planet... is it the same there?"

Jimin lifted one foot out of the water, wiggling his toes as he let it drip from his heel. He watched it for a second before letting it drop back in and falling onto his back to look up at the sky above us.

"Similar to Earth? Yes and no. It's not tainted like it is here for one."

Choosing to join him, I pulled my shoes off before scooting closer to the edge of the dock. I dipped a toe in, happy to find that it was a relatively warm temperature and let both my feet sink into it.

"Can I ask why you left? It sounds a lot better than here."

"Well, you know the primary reason. It's not exactly something we are proud to admit, but repopulation is necessary and there aren't enough Draas women capable of procreating left after our war with a nearby planet. But that's not why I left. Seokjin was the one who recruited me. After discovering how bad off your planet really was, word got back that they'd need more help to revive it if we had any chance of being able to partner with humans. That's how I found myself here."

"Then, you weren't planning on taking a partner for yourself?"

"Not really. Don't get me wrong, it would be nice to share something like that, and the older I get the more I crave that closeness with a partner, but if I had to, I could live without it. Besides, if I did have a partner, the decision to leave would have been a harder one. I was more curious than anything to meet humans. See what they were like." He smiled, rolling his head towards me. "I haven't been exceptionally impressed by anyone until you."

I tried to wave off his attempt at flattery. Living with him, I noticed his flirty nature. A lot of those comments directed towards me the more comfortable we became with one another. I hadn't seen him interact with enough women to know whether that was just him, or if it was more because it was me. Either way, I tried not to let it get under my skin. Other than a few innuendos here and there, Jimin was a gentleman. He never pushed my boundaries and respected our agreement. Our friendship was just that. Friendship.

The wind picked up around us. Ripples stretching across the lake in front of us and tree branches swaying in the sudden gust. I tamped down my hair, turning to where it came from, pleasantly surprised to see the smiling face waving to us as he headed down towards the water.

"Hoseok's here." I warned Jimin, pulling my feet out of the water to greet the man.

"Great." Jimin mumbled under his breath, sighing as he forced himself up.

I was a bit curious about Jimin's lack of enthusiasm. Usually, he was happy about having Hoseok visit, maybe even more than Seokjin some days, but lately it felt as if he was losing his excitement for the man's company. However, out of all the Draas that visited, Hoseok was the one I got along with most easily.

He was kind and considerate. Always making sure to include me in the conversation, or striking one up between the two of us when it was apparent that I was lost in a lot of the lingo when Jimin talked shop, or worse, when they spoke in their native tongue. Luckily for me, Hoseok visited quite often. Jimin told me it was because he usually bounced between the houses of the other guys. Hoseok was one who preferred company rather than being on his own, and if the others wouldn't take the time to visit him, he would be the one to show up without warning.

"How's my favorite human?"

I laughed, accepting the incoming hug. That was another thing I quickly learned about Hoseok; he was adamant on outward affection.

"Hobi, I'm the only human you associate with."

"I can still play favorites."

"It's a little earlier in the week than we normally see you." Jimin noted, pushing the sunglasses up his face to settle in his pink waves.

"I skipped visiting Yoongi and Kook, I just missed Y/N too much." Hoseok beamed, keeping an arm around my shoulders while answering Jimin.

"Yoongi won't be happy to know that."

"He'll live. Y/N's the only one who will entertain my whims, it's a no-brainer why I would rather spend time with her versus someone who spends all his free time napping."

Jimin rolled his eyes, face set in a grimace as he pushed past the two of us.

"Well, she didn't miss you." He shot at Hobi as he passed.

"I- That's not true." I placated Hoseok who started to pout.

"Has he been this mean to you too Y/N?"

"Of course I haven't." Jimin scoffed, continuing towards the house.

Hoseok looked to me as if he didn't believe Jimin's words. I offered him a smile.

"It's been busy around here the last few days. Maybe he's just tired."

Hoseok hummed, turning from his friend walking away, to me.

"I brought some fruits that Namjoon got from a patient of his. He mentioned something about a fruit salad that you humans put together and was wondering if you would help me."

"Sure. It's about time for dinner anyway, I can make us something to go with it."

That was another key difference between humans and Draas. Whereas we needed food to survive, I discovered that the energy they derive from the planet was enough to fuel normally bodily functions. Eating was more of a kind of past time for them. Hoseok was more than fascinated with the different dishes we could make, Seokjin too from what I'd been told, but Jimin was hit or miss.

Every once in a while he would partake in whatever I managed to make, but he was incredibly picky and unless it looked and smelled appealing, he wouldn't touch it. Hoseok was excited now, his arm looping around mine to pull me along.

"What even goes into a fruit salad anyway?"

"Well, it depends on what you brought."

I knocked quietly on Jimin's door, waiting for him to grant me permission before pushing it open. I peeked around the door to find him stationed at his desk shoved into the far side of his room. The same one that had been in the guest room I now stayed in.

"Hoseok and I finished dinner, would you like to join us?"

"No."

I figured as much, but the dismissal felt more brusque than usual. I hesitated in the doorway, opting whether it was worth it to mention it now or if I should let it be. I liked to think I knew Jimin relatively well having lived with him the last few months. Good enough to at least know some of his habits and how he was when it was just the two of us and even when in company.

And his behavior, particularly when Hoseok stopped by, seemed to sour beyond him just dealing with our guest. Especially when that guest was a close friend of his. My lingering in the doorway didn't go unnoticed, Jimin's eyes flickering up from whatever he was working on to my form in his threshold.

"Did you need something else?"

Figuring if he was going to give me an opportunity to bring it up, I stepped inside.

"Jimin, is there something wrong? You've been... off."

"I'm fine, just tired and I didn't expect to have guests over today."

"It's not just today. You've been off the last couple of times we've had guests."

He frowned, shaking his head. "Things with work have just been stressful."

I chewed on my lip, casting a look over my shoulder before deciding to outrightly ask him.

"It's worse when Hoseok is here. Did something happen between the two of you?"

Jimin stiffened, his motions turning awkward as he fiddled with the pen in his hand. His eyes dropped down to the paper in front of him, his pink hair that is a bit longer than when I moved in hid his eyes from me.

"Has he said something to you?"

Jimin's voice was rough. Highly unusual for him when I was so used to it being soft and lilting. Then again, I haven't seen him mad before and the tension that arose between us suggested that was how he felt. My vision dropped to where he held the pen tight within his fist. The knuckles turning white with the strength, and I wondered if it was on the verge of crumbling in his grasp.

"No. Hoseok hadn't said anything to me." I responded, crossing my arms over my chest. "But I'm right, aren't I? Something happened between you two."

Another quick shake of his head. "No, it didn't."

"Jimin," I sighed. "Clearly there is-"

"I said there's not!" He snapped, rising from his chair.

Those silver orbs were like molten steel. The heat behind them threatened to burn me and I was taken aback. He stood there, letting the animosity fizzle out before sighing heavily. He turned his head, refusing to look at me.

"I have a lot I need to get done. Enjoy your dinner with Hoseok." He mumbled, dismissing me.

Rather than leaving, I moved closer to him. Silver stare flicking up at me again warily.

"Y/N..." He spoke my name exasperatedly.

I reached out for the papers he was sifting through, moving them out of sight. His mouth opened to scold me for interrupting, but I shushed him.

"Explain it to me."

"Explain what?"

"Whatever is bothering you. I'm not leaving until I hear it and you're not working until you talk, so talk."

He was starting to get annoyed, but I could care less how annoyed he was with me. He moved to retrieve his papers, but I stepped in front of him.

"Jimin." I warned, leveling a glare of mine to meet his. "Companionship. That's what you wanted, right? Part of that means sharing our burdens."

"Sharing our burdens? This coming from the woman who still refuses to tell me exactly why she chose to register herself in the first place."

"Maybe because it doesn't matter anymore."

"That's not the point." Jimin bit out, invading my personal space. "The point is that it does matter to me. I want to know more about you, even the things you think don't matter. I share my stories, my experiences, my life with you and yet, you still don't trust me enough to do the same."

He ran his hand through his hair frustratedly.

"But that's not the way it is with Hoseok, is it? The two of you share a connection I haven't been able to establish even though we're partnered."

The revelation would have been surprising if it didn't make so much sense. Jimin went quiet after that, although it was clear he was still upset. I didn't know what to say, or if anything I might have said would make a difference to him. In the meantime...

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him into me for a hug. He stumbled into the embrace, my strength catching him off guard. I held him tightly, unwilling to let him pull away, not that he was trying to. His arms looped around my waist, pulling me firmly into his chest while he buried his face into my hair.

"Jimin." I called to him softly. "Hoseok doesn't know any more about me than you do. Honestly, he probably knows even less. I'm sorry I haven't been as transparent with you. I'm not used to having someone around willing to listen or want to know about me. I'm... acclimating."

"It's more than that." He murmured. "I thought when I agreed to remain platonic partners with you that it would be easy. That all I really craved was having someone else around that I could talk to and be myself with. Someone that would make me feel less lonely."

He sighed, lifting his head to place his chin on top of mine, tucking me into his chest.

"But I'm not any less lonely. Sometimes it even feels like I'm lonelier than I was before because I have you here and, yet, I don't have you in the way I want us to be."

"What do you mean? How do you want us to be?"

A gentle knock at the door interrupted us. Jimin was quick to let me go, silver gaze turned to the door as Hoseok made his presence known.

"Just thought I'd make sure everything is okay. Dinner is getting cold."

The stiffness in Jimin's posture wasn't as prominent as it had been earlier, but I could tell he still had his reservations when it came to Hoseok. I laid a hand on his arm, hoping it served to reiterate my earlier assurances before answering Hoseok.

"We're okay. Jimin was just finishing up, so you can head back. We'll be right behind you."

He nodded, radiant smile in place before moseying his way back to the dining room.

"I don't remember agreeing to join you for dinner."

"You didn't." I told him, gathering the papers I had stolen from him to slide them in one of his desk drawers. "I made the decision for you."

Jimin was taken aback. Not that I could blame him really if I lived as a unit Commander and was used to people doing my bidding and not second-guessing my orders, but I wasn't and I didn't serve under him. He wanted us to be equals, then this was me treating him as an equal. I reached up, placing my hands on top of his shoulders.

"Join us. You can eat and it's also not fair for you to be acting this way towards Hoseok when the man isn't deserving of it. Plus, he was really looking forward to you trying the fruit salad he made."

I could almost pinpoint the moment in which Jimin caved. That tension melted out of him, and his silvery orbs softened at the mention of his best friend having made a meal just for him.

"Okay." He whispered.

"Good. We can continue this conversation when we're not entertaining guests."

Thankfully, dinner with the three of us had no trace of the animosity from before. The atmosphere and comradery between Jimin and Hoseok resumed much like it had in the weeks prior to Jimin's funky mood. I was able to navigate the conversation a bit better now that I understood Jimin's stance and could pay more attention to what I said and how I interacted, with Hoseok especially. I even attempted to share a bit more about my past. Without saying as much, I could tell Jimin appreciated it. It was like he soaked up every bit of information that he could even if I thought it to be mundane.

Retrospectively, I guess it's not entirely correct for me to claim that it's unimportant for me to share things about myself I didn't think were necessary. For Jimin, the stories he's shared about himself could have been uninteresting to him, but I hung onto every word. His world and his life were fascinating to me. All because it was so different from mine. I could understand Jimin taking the same stance when it came to humans. If I were being truly honest with myself though, I couldn't accurately say whether I found his life interesting because he was a completely different species from a completely different world, or if it's because it's Jimin. That thought lingered all throughout dinner until the answer revealed itself as if it shouldn't have been a question at all. My life before Jimin wasn't anything special. I struggled to get by and hadn't cared for anyone or anything other than myself. I knew about the Draas long before meeting Jimin and never thought twice about learning who they were or where they came from and why.

But Jimin was different. I actively sought to know more about him. Who he was and what he liked, his friends and family, and the affinity for water he wielded. I wanted to know everything I could and more. I had gotten so wrapped up in knowing him that I neglected asking myself why it meant so much to me. And I could kick myself for not picking up on how that oversight made Jimin feel.

"You know, we'd be more than happy to put you up for the night. It's a little late to be heading home." I offered to Hoseok as he put his shoes on.

"Nah, it's not that far to Yoongi's. Jimin was probably right to assume he'd be upset that I skipped over him. He may not seem like it, but he's a softie. Besides, I'd be right to assume you and Jimin have some things to talk about?"

He phrased it as a question, but he sounded sure of himself.

"You're rather insightful." I grinned, handing him the rest of the fruit salad he had worked so hard on.

"Not really. You two are just obvious." He chuckled, accepting it.

I laughed, shaking my head. Having it so blatantly laid out between us was a little embarrassing, but maybe not all that surprising. After all, Hoseok has known Jimin a lot longer than I have, so it would be only natural for him to notice something was amiss faster than I could.

"Just, promise me you'll bring it up? Jimin's notorious for hiding the way he feels. He'll sooner sacrifice his own happiness and peace of mind for someone else and I can tell he likes you."

"I would hope so. It would be a little awkward to have to keep living with someone you only tolerated." I teased.

"I'm serious." He laughed. "He may not have admitted it to himself yet, whether because of the arrangement you two have or for some other reason, but it's more than just platonic for him now. Or maybe it always has been. I never would have pegged Jimin as the type to partner with a human, but I should have known from the moment he told me about you."

"Told you about me?" I asked surprised.

Hoseok's eyes darted behind me past the entryway leading to the rest of the house. I wondered if he was looking for Jimin, but the younger Draas had elected to head back down the dock despite the late hour.

"He went back to the lake."

Hoseok nodded before continuing.

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I consider it for his own good. I'm not going to say he lied to you because I believe it began with good intentions, but I'm not sure it was ever about friendship for him. I don't know if Jimin was even aware of his feelings yet, but I can tell you that even if he was he wouldn't have said anything to jeopardize his chance of helping you out of the situation you were in. Even if that meant keeping his feelings to himself to make you feel more comfortable."

Hoseok's words reminded me of that day in the hospital. How desperate Jimin seemed at the time seeking my agreeance only to backtrack after realizing I was shying away from his advances.

It was an act.

Hoseok placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Like I said, he's good at hiding what he wants to. Now that you know, don't let him get away with it. I think the two of you were made for one another in that regard."

"What do you mean?"

He grinned, tucking the bowl of fruit salad under his arm.

"Neither of you are very keen on expressing your feelings. I wondered how long it would take or who would break first. Seems like Jimin is more susceptible to jealousy than I imagined."

"So, you knew."

"Sometimes all it takes is someone on the outside looking in. Thanks for dinner. I'll leave the two of you to it while I force Yoongi into trying my newest creation." He stated proudly, hugging his bowl a little tighter.

Even though Yoongi was still an enigma to me, moments like these where I knew he shared a softer side with his friends made him less intimidating.

"Tell him and Jungkook I said hi."

"I will. Let Jimin know I'll be back later this week, yeah?"

"Okay." I agreed, giving him a farewell smile before waving him through the door.

It always struck me how much quieter it seemed when Hoseok left. His presence was lively enough to fill the entire house. A place that was usually quiet and comforting when it was just Jimin and I by ourselves. Not that it was boring, rather I enjoyed how neither of us really had to feel like entertaining the other. We were more than happy sitting in silence, only talking when conversation arose naturally. This would have to be one of those times where we would have to share a conversation whether we wanted to or not.

I sighed, kicking off my indoor shoes for my sandals. Better to have it sooner than later. The night was cool, a testament to how close summer was as I walked the familiar path down to the dock Jimin frequented. The fairy lights he had lining the path were bright enough to watch my steps, ensuring I didn't trip, something he had installed after realizing how much of a struggle it was for me to navigate in the dark unlike him. The moon's crescent glow reflected off the water and, not for the first time, I found myself stopping to look up at it. Jimin's stories made me curious about what it was like up there. How it would feel to be among the stars or what it would be like living on a planet that wasn't dying. Things I never would have been bothered to think about before him.

Light splashing broke my daydreaming, my eyes gravitating towards the lake where I could barely make out a head poking out of the water. I continued my walk, reaching the edge of the dock where I found Jimin's shirt discarded, hanging over the edge of the wooden platform, nearly ready to take a dip itself. I stopped, looking for him again. He stood a good several yards from the end of the dock, bare shoulders peeking out of the dark water with his back turned to me. The sliver of moon above barely illuminated the hidden colors of his skin. The iridescence pale except when his subtle shifting turned it silver. Much like the color of his eyes. That paleness swept the expanse of his back until it reached the line of tattoos down his spine I had only heard about, never seen. I knew Jimin came down here to swim most evenings, he preferred to be in the water rather than just his feet like he often did when I joined him. Reflecting on Hoseok's words, I wondered if that was another sacrifice on his behalf that he made for me so I wouldn't be uncomfortable.

In those instances, I neglected to come down here at night. I didn't want to bother him if that were to be the case, but now I wondered if I should have made the choice to come sooner. Although I knew he had to have heard me on approach, he didn't react. He kept his back turned, eyes cast up at the same moon mine had been and even though I couldn't make out his expression, something about him seemed melancholic. Before I could convince myself otherwise, I reached for the bottom of my shirt. I tossed it with his, working on the button of my shorts next as I made my way to the end of dock. I shucked my sandals, letting my pants drop over them. I was too afraid to dive in headfirst, and a little less than gracefully, I dropped myself off the edge of the dock and into the water. I sucked in a breath, the chilly water a shock to my system I didn't anticipate. While the night was comfortable, the lake had dropped slightly in temperature with the departed sun. I waded in Jimin's direction, hoping a bit of movement would help me acclimate faster. His head turned when I was a few feet from him, that tender smile threatening to melt me as he took me in.

"You didn't have to come in. I would have joined you inside before too long."

Water dripped from his chin as he spoke. Those bubblegum pink locks swept back from his face, and I couldn't help but think about how much water clinging to him suited him.

"Meeting you halfway." I chattered, offering him a smile. "That's what we agreed on, right?"

"Not if it ends with you freezing to death." He chuckled, fingers finding mine under the water's surface.

He threaded them through mine, pulling me into him. I didn't let the closeness bother me, in fact, I latched onto the warmth he provided, looping my arms around him, and pressing my cheek to his chest. He returned my embrace, holding me to him as we fell into a comfortable silence. I would have been happy staying like this, but the conversation that needed to be had lingered over our heads like a cloud. One that I wanted gone before it got much worse. Having Jimin holding me like this made it easier to start the discussion. As much as I loved his silvery gaze, I found it left me at a loss for words more than anything else and I needed my words right now.

"I'm sorry." I murmured.

He sighed; the sound hardly audible as his chin rested on my head.

"I should be the one who's sorry. Acting the way I did about your friendship with Hoseok was... childish. I'm usually not so affected by things like that."

Hoseok might have given away Jimin's reluctance to come to terms with his feelings for me, but I still wanted to hear them from the man himself. And not only because Hoseok had me promise I would.

"Then why were you?"

Jimin was quiet. The only sounds being his breathing and the soft lapping of water around us. I wondered if he would even answer, but I also knew it wasn't like Jimin to leave a question of mine unanswered.

"I'm finding myself incapable of making decisions when it comes to you lately. I question every word, every action, worried that it's beyond the realm of what you humans would consider friendly. It's hard for me to draw that line when it's not what I want anymore."

"Hoseok told me you have a penchant for withholding your emotions."

He pulled back to look at me, a wry grin tugging at his lips.

"He's not wrong. Hoseok would know best. I've known him the longest."

"Then be honest with me Jimin. What are you holding back? What is it you want?"

His smile dropped. The seriousness that flooded those silver orbs was one that always attempted to drag me down with it, but I was determined to meet it head on this time. If I was going to convince him that I was here for him and willing to hear what he had to tell me, I couldn't run away anymore. I couldn't lie to myself that all I felt towards him was how one would feel about a friend. I knew what that was like. I shared it with Hoseok and Jungkook. And while a sliver of that same feeling was present when I was with Jimin, there was more. A much stronger connection that pulled me in and drew me to him. A part of myself that actively sought him out, to be with him and learn about him.

I held my eyes to his, not so much as blinking even as his hand lifted to cup my cheek.

"You." He whispered. "I want you as more than just a friend. More than someone who's around simply for company or to ease my loneliness. I want you as a partner. In every sense of the word. Both in your language and mine."

I held his wrist, hiding my smile in his palm and admiring the flashes of color across his skin.

"I want that too."

He seemed surprised, expression flickering between the shock and happiness and finally, uncertainty as he pulled back.

"Are you sure? If this is because you're worried I'll put you out or I forced my feelings onto you, I'd ra-"

I laid a kiss on his hand, his words catching in his throat at the gesture. I could feel the slight tremble of his fingertips as I slid into his embrace again.

"Don't you believe me capable of making my own decisions?"

"In my defense, all the decisions I've known you to make have led to you regretting them later."

"Touché." I laughed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "But I'm confident I won't regret this one."

I tilted my face to his, happy to know that it appeared to be a universal sign when it came to silently begging for a kiss as he leaned down. He paused a hair's breadth away, hesitating, or maybe wanting me to make that ultimate leap so he knew I meant every word I'd spoken to him thus far. Assuming the latter, I took the plunge, connecting my mouth with his. His plush lips melded with mine perfectly, the kiss itself charged, building in intensity as Jimin deepened it. My lips tingled under his, the feeling euphoric and unlike anything I had ever experienced. My breaths came out harsher, fingers finding their way into his damp hair, letting the pink strands tangle around my fingers.

My body burned against his, every bit of me keening under his touch and begging for more. Almost like it had been waiting for this moment and surrendered to whatever he was willing to give me. His fingers traced my skin, those same tingles leaving me feeling as if I were floating, even the water around me caressed me like a lover. Like an extension of Jimin himself. Every sensation an aphrodisiac that I craved more of unconsciously as I arched into him.

I needed him. The soft touches and gentle fingers weren't enough. I wanted him to want me as desperately as I did him. A whimper left me unexpectedly, the sound enough to pull Jimin from me, the question of what's wrong on the tip of his tongue until I cut him off.

"There's something I'm curious about."

"What is it?" He asked, the slight pick-up of pace in the rise and fall of his chest the only outward sign he was affected like I was.

"The human women who partnered with Draas. I've heard it's unlike anything they've experienced before."

He looked confused, brows furrowing as he cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

I bit my lip, riding on the high from earlier to power through any embarrassment I might find in divulging my thoughts.

"Sex."

"You want me to explain what sex is like with us?" He asked confused.

"No." I shook my head, stifling my laughter.

That just made him even more puzzled, that tilt getting steeper as he slowly shook his head.

"I don't under-"

"I want you to show me."

His fingers dug into my hips, expression turning eerily impassive. Those eyes burning into me, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, a quiet exhale escaping from between them.

"Y/N, if we go that far, there's no going back for me. I'll bind myself to you."

"Is that not what you want?"

"No. Yes- I mean, that is what I want. I just need you to understand what you're committing to here. My species, copulation is the ultimate betrothal. We only have sex when we intend to partner with someone for life."

"Aaand you're worried I'll regret it later."

He frowned, shaking his head.

"No, I just want you to be absol-"

I laid my thumb over his lips.

"I am." I promised him, soothing the swollen flesh with gentle caresses. "Bind me."

Jimin's breath left him in a shudder, his hand gripping my wrist tightly to pull it from his face before smashing his lips to mine. He kissed me with more fervor, his body turning to push mine back towards the dock. In our haste, the motions were awkward. Both of us fumbling to let go of each other long enough to get out of the water.

"The house has never felt so far away." He grumbled, helping me onto the dock.

I gripped his hand to keep him here as he turned towards the house.

"Not the house. Here."

I didn't know if he agreed, nor did I really care as I pulled him to me again. His mouth slot against mine perfectly, like he had been made for me. Or maybe I, him. Either way we were two pieces of an unsolved puzzle finally coming together. The lanterns along the dock cast a hearty glow across the both of us, Jimin's skin glittering with hints of orange and red, his hair two shades darker under the tawny light. His fingers slipped under the latch of my bra, toying with it while his other hand slid under the waistband of my underwear. His palms trailed the water droplets coating my skin, rendering them hot like molten lava. The heat was enough to fend off the chill it should have brought this late into the night.

This was Jimin though, his affinity for water ran much deeper than simply influencing its temperature. His lips parted from mine, moving further down to catch a few beads of water with his tongue, to my neck. He groaned lowly, sucking on my tender skin, and leaving me desperately clenching around nothing as he fed my desire. He made quick work of my bra, tugging it off me and dropping to his knees. His lips found my breast, wrapping around my nipple, nearly sending me crumbling to my knees as well. His name left my lips on a breathless moan, my chest arching into him in a bid for more. Gently, he wrapped both hands around my thighs, guiding me down with him into his lap. I settled over his cock, his underwear and mine being the only barrier between him and my opening, but I could still feel every thick inch of him pressed against my center. Without much convincing on his part, he urged my hips into a slow grind, groaning his appreciation as I took over. He gripped my ass, keeping me close while he found my lonely breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. I cursed, gripping his shoulders tightly, already feeling that tightness low in my abdomen. I could have cried with the lack of friction I needed, my hips rutting against his frantically for release only to be disappointed when he stopped me. His mouth found mine again, shushing any complaints as he rolled me under him. Any wish to continue grinding on him was dashed the second his hands rid me of my underwear. I tilted my hips up to him impatiently, sighing in pleasure as his fingers parted my folds. He curled one finger in, penetrating me and waiting for my signs of pleasure before introducing a second.

"You know the belief that human women were compatible with us sexually wasn't a far-fetched one to begin with. In fact, your anatomy coincides with the females of our planet rather remarkably with one exception." He licked his lips, silver gaze finding mine.

He pulled his fingers out, dragging them through my lower lips deliciously, seeking his target. The jolt that ran through me the second he found my clit let him know his hunt was successful, my hips thrusting against his hand helplessly when he started rubbing slow circles around it.

"Here." He almost purred, delighting in the way I writhed under his touch. "I spent a lot of time studying how I would bring you pleasure. There are lots of ways, but I found this one the most fascinating."

He dropped his head, tongue replacing his fingers as he spread my thighs wide to accommodate him. I fell helpless to Jimin, my hands gripping those beautifully pink locks as he experimented with my pleasure. Lips leaving petal soft kisses against my flesh, tongue delving into my opening to coax more of my cream from me before licking a drawn-out stripe up to my clit, laving the same attention to it. He paid expert attention to the way I responded, teasing me to the cusp of breaking and backing down before I hit it to drive my attention elsewhere. His hands hooked over the tops of my thighs, holding me in place while he buried his face in my pussy. His name was a symphony leaving me on gasps and moans and choked whimpers. It felt like I was delirious on the pleasure he gave me only to retreat and leave me dangling on that fine line between pain and euphoria.

"Please." I whimpered, feeling the tears overflowing as he pulled back again, denying my orgasm. "Jimin."

"You taste so good." He murmured, swirling silver meeting my eyes. "How am I supposed to stop?"

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my body feeling like it was sweltering under my skin. I reached for him, melding my lips to his.

"Make me yours." I begged him, kissing him again only to repeat those three words like I lived by them.

He matched my fervor, kissing me hungrily. He rid himself of his underwear and I found myself pulling away from him to observe him in all his glory. I traced the shimmering patterns the light cast over his bare flesh, basked in the flush coloring his cheeks, the swollen and plump perfection of his pink lips. My hands navigating the expanse of his chest, lean muscles of his arms and hands where they supported his weight beside my head and watched the way his abdomen flexed with every movement between my thighs as he settled himself between them.

It was no wonder women signed themselves over. Jimin was beautiful. A sight that artists would try recreating to no avail, and photographers would spend their lives catching the perfect angle of, and here he was, with me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, a wordless invitation for him to take me as his.

His lips captured mine, delivering a kiss that laid his emotions bare for me to see. The happiness, the longing, the desperation. All the things Jimin kept hidden. I moved against his lips with that same amount of passion, letting him know he wasn't alone in his feelings. That I wanted him just as much. A hand trailed its way between us, down my chest and midriff, his touch as smooth a caress as if water itself lapped at my skin. Soothing the fire raging inside and promising to quench my thirst thoroughly.

"You're sure?" He whispered against me, kissing me again before allowing me to answer.

"I'm yours." I swore to him, tracing the curve of his jaw and meeting his eyes.

Those eyes of silver stardust, captivating in their intensity and heart wrenching in their expressiveness. I could see the emotion swimming in them, their color matching the moon above us as its glow rained down on him. Bathing him in the silvery shade that seemed to be crafted for him alone.

I knew in that moment he was made to be among the stars. He belonged in that vastness of space. A testament that it was designed for him as much as he it, and I was being graced with only a sliver of it. But it was a piece I would happily take, whatever parts of him he was willing to give me. His fingers gripped the meat of my thigh tightly, spreading me open further for him. I barely caught the change in his breathing, rate increasing until he bit his bottom lip to stifle it and pressed forward.

I sucked in a sharp breath, relishing in the way he slowly filled me. My nails dug into his shoulders, digging in harder the deeper he went, my body stretching around the length of his cock snugly. His eyes squeezed shut, head dropping slightly to leave the ends of his fiery bubblegum pink hair to brush across my cheek. He sheathed himself fully, body trembling as a quivering breath escaped him.

"Tell me again." He begged; voice hoarse as his nose nudged my jaw. "That you're mine. That you want me."

I released the talon-like hold I had on his shoulders, cupping his cheek to turn his face to me so I could kiss him again.

"I want this... you. I'm yours. Make love to me under the stars we share."

He obliged, hips retreating only to dive deep once more. He rained kisses down my neck, groaning in delight when I arched beneath him, begging for more. My fingers found the wrist of his hand pressed against the wooden dock beside my head, using it to ground me as I surrendered myself to him. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. His presence above me, inside me, overwhelmed me, but I sobbed with every retreat, wanting him to fill me again until he did, and I felt like drowning under him all over again.

"Jimin."

My voice sounded foreign to me. How wrecked it was, the breathlessness, how I begged for him even though I wasn't sure what exactly I was asking of him.

"My star." He purred, hips snapping into mine. "I've spent my life among the ones up there, but none of them quite feel like home like you do."

That tension in my lower abdomen pulled tighter. My moans filling the quiet night, not caring if anyone were to hear. Jimin's low groans and harsh breaths coupled with mine, his cock splitting me open, lower body pounding into mine. My core clenched on him, ripping a curse from his lips as he drove into me harder.

"Fuck." He swore through clenched teeth.

I stifled my cries enough to hear him. Basking in the soft noises he let loose despite trying so hard to keep them in. Not only that, but the squelching between my thighs every time he thrust inside my walls. I was soaked, drenching him in my essence as if I wanted to be the water he coveted. Underneath me, I could feel the force of waves hitting the dock. The wood vibrating with the power behind them. It took me only a second to realize they lapped against the land in time with Jimin's thrusts. His affinity leeching into the very source itself, the water he wielded responding to him.

I wondered if he was even aware of it. His focus was directed between us, watching his cock disappear within me, the creaminess gathering at the base of it and coating my thighs.

"Beautiful." He groaned, fingertips finding that same spot from earlier expertly.

My body shook under his touch. That knot within me going taut, threatening to snap. I whined, body leaping out of rationality to grind against those fingers. Lips moving to implore Jimin to go harder, faster. The movements of his fingers over my clit were gentle, small circles that I was ready to let shred me apart. Completely at odds with the feral pace of his hips. I marveled at the sight of him above me, the flex of lean muscle, graceful drive of his hips, expression pinched in the same pleasure he inflicted, pink strands sticking to the sweat covering the iridescence of his skin. Sweat that caught the subtle glow of pinks and blues and purples over his flesh like diamonds before dripping onto my exposed and overheated body.

He dropped his head, wrapping his plush lips around my nipple, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. I crashed under it all, my cries echoing off the turbulent water, back arching off the dock into Jimin who helped me ride through the crippling wave of pleasure.

"So fucking beautiful." He growled, pushing himself past that breaking point to join me.

I anticipated the warmth that would escape him and fill me. And I would be lying if I claimed I wasn't disappointed when he pulled out. His fingers made one last swipe through my folds, gathering more of my slick before wrapping those same fingers around himself. He groaned, the sounds rising in pitch as he pumped his cock like he was still fucking me. He squeezed, breath catching as he pushed himself over. He came hard, thick ropes of it coating my thighs and his hand, milking him of everything he had to give. The sight was something I never thought I would find so arousing. The fire inside me flaring again watching him.

I pushed against his side, urging him to lay against the dock like I had. His questioning gaze going unanswered while I kneeled between his legs. There wasn't so much as a warning before my tongue was on him. Another sharp curse rushing out of him, and his cock twitched while I cleaned him. His head fell back against the wood with a loud thunk, soft moans more of pleasure slipping past his lips, his hands gripping my hair. He didn't do anything beyond holding it, just let me worship him and bring his cock back to life so he could experience pleasure at my expense this time.

I slid my lips over the head, moaning at the taste of him. He choked on my name, his breathing coming out harsh and irregular. I reveled in it. My eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest, the veins in his neck as he exposed it, the colors of his skin and hair, and just how fucking perfect he was coming undone for me. I took as much of him as I could, engulfing him in warmth as he came again. I did my best to swallow what I could, some of it overflowing and leaving me to have to lick up my mess.

Jimin looked utterly fucked, thighs trembling as he pulled me off him. He stared at my lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own as a devilish smile lifted them. One I wasn't used to seeing on him.

"Sit on my face."

I looked at him surprised, unable to stop the blush from coloring my cheeks at his forwardness.

"What?" I asked dumbly, wondering if maybe I had misheard him.

He chuckled, arms wrapping around my torso to pull me up his body. I bit my lip, a little nervous as he settled my thighs on either side of his head.

"Did you learn this too, or is it common among Draas men to ask someone to sit on their face?"

He hummed, hands finding purchase over the tops of my thighs to pull me down to him.

"My research for you was extensive." He purred, starting with the mess covering my thighs.

His licks were slow, deliberate, as he purposefully drove me crazy.

"I'd argue it's only fair I return the favor and clean you up to seeing as I'm responsible for half the mess."

He pulled me lower, my breath hitching as his breath ghosted across my center.

"Maybe make you cum again too."

I could already feel my thighs trembling, Jimin's words and the hint of his lips coaxing me into letting go and smothering him beneath me.

"I'm really just a selfish bastard who wants to taste you again." He sighed, the first swipe of his tongue threatening to break me. "I'll spend the rest of my life between your legs if you'll let me."

I laughed breathlessly, one that turned into a shuddering moan as he licked me again.

"I might just let you." I murmured, whimpering under his teasing mouth.

"Let's not waste any time then." He grinned, pulling me down to him.

Taglist:

@ldysmfrst @missbangtangirl @bratty-tingz @i-like-puppy-mg @skyys-universe @atinymonbebestay

238 notes · View notes

lofimusings · 3 months

Text

Helping Hands

Summary: Seokjin makes a suggestion without realising its consequences. Yoongi tries to help but faces resistance. Hoseok skips dance rehearsal. Jungkook gets involved against his will.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC, Hoseok x OC, minor Namjoon x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Mild humour, awkwardness, tension, angst

Word count: 14.1 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, kissing, dubious sexual harassment

A/N: It's been a whole month since the last fic; I feel like I've been reborn as I format this post. Hope you all enjoy this - it's a lot of chaos and movement of plot. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

You will all be pleased to know that I have once again not edited this fic. Takes place approximately two months after Touch, three months after Near Misses, and about four months after Tea and Olive (and about a month after Final Destination).

Tagging: @bbl32@ quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld

Listen to: "mr brightside" by the killers

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

Chaeyoung [19:10] Big Hit lobby. SOS.

Something catches in Hoseok’s chest. Suddenly, Seokjin’s struggles with a combination don’t seem as worrisome.

“I’ll be right back,” he says shortly, picking up his jacket and racing down the hallway to the lifts, ignoring Namjoon calling his name.

Hoseok hurries into the lobby and scans the area, noting that nothing seems to look out of place. He spots her then; she’s by the sofas in the waiting area, standing on one hip and frowning mildly at her phone in one hand. The other hand is absently playing with the corner of a sparkly pink scarf around her neck.

He walks up to her, his heart already slowing slightly. “Chae,” he says, mostly to snap her out of her laser gaze at her phone.

She looks up at him and her face breaks out into a grin. “Oppa, hi!” she exclaims brightly. “What’s up?”

“What’s -” He shakes his head. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Why?”

“Because -” Hoseok frowns, fishing his phone out of his pocket and finding her text, wondering wildly if he’d imagined this. “Did you send me this?” he asks, turning the screen to her. “SOS?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows and nods in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. The receptionist wouldn’t let me upstairs to see you without having to sign in and I needed to find a way to bring you down here immediately. I’m taking the bus home and it’s going to be here in, like, ten minutes.” She shrugs in a what-are-you-going-to-do kind of way.

Hoseok stares at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? I just had a heart attack.”

“Why?”

“Because you said SOS! Save - Our - Souls!” he exclaims, clapping his hands to punctuate each word. “I thought something was wrong. I thought you were -” Here, he catches himself and forces himself to take a deep breath. “Forget it. What do you want?”

Chaeyoung doesn’t answer right away. She looks somewhat uncertain, as though just realising her harmless trick might have backfired. “I, uh…” She clears her throat and rummages in her tote bag. “I brought you a coffee,” she says, bringing out a clear glass with brown liquid and ice cubes rattling inside it. “It’s an Americano,” she adds, stretching her hand out to him until he takes it.

Hoseok stares. “And?”

“And -” She dives into her tote bag again, this time revealing a baby blue cardboard box. “- a muffin!”

His eyes dart from her face to the muffin and back to her. “I’m on tour. I can’t eat sugar.”

“Oh, it’s a sugar-free muffin.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Probably. I don’t know.” She sighs and Hoseok hopes she’s finally getting to the point. “Can we - can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

He struggles not to roll his eyes. “Okay,” he says drily, turning around and leading them to a meeting room inside a corridor behind the main lobby. He pushes the glass door open and holds it for her to skip inside, before closing it behind him. The white lights turn on automatically and the projector screen blinks to life.

“Alright,” he says, placing the coffee on the table and sighing. “What was so important that you needed to trick me into leaving rehearsal midway?”

“Okay,” she begins, placing her hands on the table and licking her lips. They are a glossy pink, notices Hoseok, looking light and natural yet perfectly made up. Maybe they’re pinker against her skin, or it’s the lighting.

“- have a proposal for you. Oppa?”

Hoseok starts, realising he’s missed what she’s said while being distracted by the colour of her lips. Mortified, he clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters shortly, shaking his head. “Uh, I haven’t… slept. What did you say?”

She frowns but nods. “I was saying… do you remember when Chanyeol threw his fifteenth birthday party at our house and when all of you were playing Truth or Dare and I tried to join in, you said that the game was only for people without braces and then I ran away and cried in my bedroom?”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I… what?”

Chaeyoung raises her eyebrows. “I’m not making this up. This actually happened.”

“No, I - I remember. Oh, God,” he mutters, his neck starts to heat up with embarrassment. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“And,” she continues, on a roll apparently, “remember when one of your idiot classmates sneaked in peppermint schnapps and even though I saw you all drinking, I still didn’t rat you out even after you were a jerk to me?”

Hoseok chokes, wishing the ground would swallow him up. “Is this why you showed up here? To remind me of my shameful past?”

“No, actually. I came here to give you a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Okayyy.”

“And to very generously unburden you of the plus-one you have for the three Michelin star restaurant opening at the St Regis tomorrow night at six pm, hosted by Marco Pierre White,” she adds seamlessly.

Hoseok stares at her for a moment before chuckling. “Wow, that was worth the journey. You bought a coffee and a muffin for that?” he asks, rolling his eyes.

Chaeyoung squeezes her eyes shut and clasps her hands in front of her chest. “Please, oppa? Please, please, please, please -”

“You want to be my date to an event?”

“No, I don’t want to be your date - I want to be a plus-one. Just - just allow me entry into the event and I’ll leave you alone after that,” she promises. “You won’t even remember I’m there.”

Fat chance of that. But he doesn’t say it, opting to take a minuscule bite of the muffin and let her continue on her spiel.

“Look,” she sighs through her nose. “This is for work. I need content, okay? The last few stories I’ve submitted have been nothing special,” she says. “Those are the actual words my boss used: nothing special. And the other two in my team - one is the son of a CEO and the other is the literal niece of the editor. The only person I have is you,” she finishes.

He raises his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes! And if I get to cover this -” She lets out a low breath. “It’ll be everything. It’s super exclusive so it’ll be luxury, it’ll be art, culture, music, business. It’ll be everything,” she repeats, her eyes huge and wide and pleading. “I really need this, oppa, please, please?”

Something feels like it’s being squeezed in Hoseok’s heart and he resists the urge to pinch her cheeks. He sighs hugely and closes his eyes, wondering how the hell he went from barely being able to stand her to being on the verge of inventing a plus-one for her if needed.

“Oh, my God.” Chaeyoung gasps suddenly, her cheeks reddening. “You’ve already used your plus-one, haven’t you?”

“No! No - no, I haven’t,” he answers, shaking his head. “And… fine. I’ll take you.”

She freezes for a second, then breaks out into a grin. “Really? Oh - thank you, oppa!” she exclaims in delight, reaching forward and hugging him before stepping back and clapping her hands. “It was the coffee, wasn’t it?”

“That - that helped,” he agrees, reeling slightly in the flowery scent.

“And I promise you won’t even know I’m there,” she reiterates. “I’ll get there on time - I’ll take the bus. Just give my name to the door or whatever and I’ll get there myself and I won’t bother you at all.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. “There won’t be any cameras inside so you’ll be fine.”

Chaeyoung shrugs and beams. “Either way. I owe you big time. Or not, actually,” she adds suddenly. “You know, because of the whole… schnapps and braces thing.”

“Yes, I remember,” he says quickly, his face heating up again. “We’re even.”

“Okay, great. See you tomorrow!” She hugs him again before gathering her stuff and heading to the door. “Thanks again!”

Hoseok watches her leave through the glass doors, his stomach floating. A moment later, he picks up the muffin and takes a large bite of it and scoffs inwardly. Chocolate.

He takes a second bite and heads back up to practice.

—

Seokjin takes advantage of the few minutes that Hoseok has disappeared and lies down on the floor of the practice room, spread-eagled. All he can hear are the sounds of his heart pounding from the intense cardio, his heavy breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

“Hyung.” A foot nudges his shoulder. “Do the bridge combo with me.”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes. “No.”

“Come on, we need to practice.”

He appreciates the we that Jungkook tactfully tacks on, but shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Just once.”

“No.”

“Hyung, what about you?” He’s talking to someone else now. Seokjin is too tired to open his eyes and see who it is, but thankfully that person lets himself be known.

“No.”

Yoongi’s answer has a finality to it that Seokjin will never be able to achieve, its biggest achievement being that Jungkook doesn’t ask him a second time. Seokjin opens his eyes a millimeter to see the maknae skip to the other side of the practice room and harass Jimin, watching them for a few seconds before sighing and dragging himself up into a sitting position.

“How great would it be if I sprained my ankle or something right now?” he mutters to Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t look away from where Taehyung and Jimin, and now Jungkook, are practicing their routine. “So you can sit out the next couple of days and get some rest?”

“Exactly.”

He shurgs. “Tomorrow is a light day. Ish. Just filming in the morning and the other thing in the evening.”

“Oh, yeah.” Seokjin doesn’t mind it. He’s not looking forward to it, per se, but Seulgi will be there, other friends from the industry will be there and since they won’t be in an English-speaking country, he’s sure to be less self-conscious while making conversation.

“Are you bringing Seulgi?”

Seokjin nods. “I told the company two weeks ago, when they emailed us the invite. I don’t miss the constant follow-ups, believe me,” he sighs, stretching. “Are you bringing anyone?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he says eventually. “I guess I’ll have to tell the company. They’ll make a fuss, though, that I’m telling them at the last moment.”

“Wait, you still have your plus-one?” He waits for Yoongi to nod, just to confirm. “You know who really wants to go? Nari.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Your Nari?”

“My friend Nari,” he clarifies, having expected this. “But… yeah. I told her about it a couple of days ago and she said she tried to get tickets to it but the handful of public ones sold out in half a day. I mean… obviously, I can’t take her. But if you have an extra and you aren’t doing anything with it…” He trails off, giving Yoongi a meaningful look.

Yoongi frowns mildly. “You’re really okay with that? You, Nari… your girlfriend… together?”

Seokjin bites his lip and looks away. He and Nari had resumed their friendship tentatively - so tentatively that he doesn’t even want to talk about it for fear of jinxing it. He’d decided to give Nari space after that disastrous dinner, utterly confused as to why she was so angry with him all the time and what he was meant to do to make it better. Weeks passed with no contact until it occurred to Seokjin that if he didn’t reach out first, they would potentially never speak again.

It began with a single text; he’d messaged requesting her to wish her parents a happy anniversary. She’d responded hours later with a Sure, but since it was more than Seokjin had expected, he’d used it as a segue to mention her parents’ anniversary party years ago and the conversation continued.

For the first time in his life, Seokjin was glad to be on tour. It provided the right amount of distance while also giving him a valid excuse to miss her - somehow, missing Nari felt like he was being unfair to Seulgi. He didn’t want to talk to any of his friends about it for fear of being right so he kept it restricted to texts as far as possible, something which seemed to suit Nari as well.

He’d been upfront about it with Seulgi; she’d sounded a bit surprised at first but didn’t say much more about it. He knew it couldn’t go on like this forever, though, that they would have to meet sometime. This event seemed as good as anything: Nari actively wanted to go, Seokjin had found a way for that to happen, and there was no pressure on any of them to host.

“It’s an event,” says Seokjin. “It’s not going to be the three of us alone.”

Yoongi nods but doesn’t pry. “Sure. I’ll let Nari know.”

A weight seems to have been lifted from Seokjin’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

Yoongi simply nods, but Seokjin sighs inwardly in relief. He would be seeing Nari again; maybe this would be the beginning of something new. Something different.

—

Nari’s hand jerks by a millimeter when her phone rings suddenly, causing her to disturb the clean line of sutures she’s practicing.

“Damn it,” she whispers, moving the surgical scissors to her left hand and retrieving her phone from the pocket of her lab coat hanging on the back of her chair. She reads the name on the screen and frowns, her momentary irritation forgotten as she answers it uncertainly.

“Yoongi?” she asks, just to be sure. She can’t remember the last time she met Yoongi; it has to have been a year, at least.

“Hey, Nari.” There’s a shuffle on the other end. “Hope I’m not bothering you.” There’s a pause. “I texted.”

“Oh.” She checks her notifications to see two messages from him from half an hour ago. “Sorry. I’ve been busy today,” she says, placing the phone on the table, putting it on speaker. She’s alone in the skills lab for once and she’s determined to master these sutures today, even if she has to do it while on the phone.

“No problem. I, uh… do you want to go to this restaurant opening tomorrow? It’s called… Mélanges, I think. I have an extra ticket.”

Nari almost messes up another suture. Placing the practice kit to the side and frowning at the phone, she repeats his own words back to him. “Do I want to go… to the Melange opening night… with you?”

“That’s right.”

There’s another pause, this time lasting longer while Nari tries to process this. She wonders briefly if she’s missing something.

“You have an extra ticket? Or is it a plus-one?” she prods, hoping he’ll prove her wrong.

“It’s a plus-one,” he confirms, his voice a monotone. “The company gave all of us the option to bring someone.”

This, she knows. She knows who Namjoon will bring, who Taehyung will bring depending on what his situation with that racer girl is, who Seokjin will bring…

“Are you in?”

Nari bites her lip. “Why me? Don’t you have anyone else you’d like to take?” She says this with an awkward chuckle.

“No,” he says flatly. “And Jin hyung said you wanted to go and I have an extra, so I thought I’d ask.”

“Seokjin told you to ask me?” The words are out of her mouth before she can help it. She can’t imagine Seokjin would ever set her up, with Yoongi no less. Something feels like it’s sinking in her stomach, but it’s so slow and so heavy that she doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to focus on it right now.

“I have to get into a meeting.”

The hint is clear. Nari leans back in her chair, her gaze falling on the abandoned sutures. She’s scrubbing in on a CABG surgery tonight, one that’s sure to go on well into the morning. She has to get these sutures right by then, just like she has to be in a place where Seokjin setting her up doesn’t it bother her.

Besides, she really wants to go. It’s an opportunity to get out of the hospital and be in something other than scrubs and, if she’s lucky, put on some make-up.

“Um, yeah. Sure. What time?”

“It starts at six. I’ll text you the address.” There’s a click and Yoongi hangs up.

Nari watches her phone screen go dark, her mind moving in slow motion. Yoongi is the last person she ever expected to have this conversation with but then again, Seokjin is the last person she expected to meddle in her love life.

But it’s time, she supposes. She would have had to see him sometime and if she’s seeing him with Seulgi, it wouldn’t hurt to have a date on her arm as well, even if it is a person who until today was only ever Seokjin’s quietest friend.

—

Chaeyoung stares at two pairs of heels, one white and one violet, wondering which one would be more professional and still the one that would allow her to stay on her feet longer.

She wishes they would speak to her. She’s already getting late and if the bus is also late, she can say goodbye to the first section of her research on the set-up and arrival of the attendants.

The doorbell rings just as she picks the violet pair. Pulling them on as she hops to the door, she opens it to reveal Hoseok, in an all-black ensemble, with the shirt unbuttoned to reveal a sliver of tan collarbone, and his hair perfectly styled.

“Hey,” she says slowly, placing her foot back on the ground. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok, who seems to be momentarily surprised at seeing her in a dress, shrugs belatedly. “What do you mean? You’re my date for tonight, so… I’m picking you up.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Chaeyoung doesn’t respond for a moment, an ancient, repressed part of her heart skipping a beat at the sentiment.

“Oh,” she says. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to take the bus, but… come in,” she adds, opening the door wider.

“Unfortunately, my parents raised me better than that,” he quips, stepping inside with his hands inside his pockets. A faint, comforting scent of cologne travels with him, of something light and airy. “Are you ready?”

“Almost,” she replies, suddenly remembering her heels and bending to fasten them. When she stands up straight, she’s nearly three inches taller.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “It’s like magic,” he jokes dryly, his eyes dropping lower and his smile fading slightly. His gaze stutters around her chest before he meets her eyes deliberately. “Are you sure that’s not…” He swallows awkwardly. “Too revealing?”

Chaeyoung frowns and looks down, seeing the hints of cleavage she’d deliberately picked this dress out for. In her opinion, it made her look more womanly and less childish; it has come to her notice that she might be taken less seriously than her peers due to her youthful appearance and while it sounds like a compliment, Chaeyoung knows it’s no way to get ahead in her career.

“No,” she answers, adjusting her neckline. “Believe me, I chose this dress for a reason. You know, you really didn’t have to come,” she repeats, sounding slightly apologetic. “You’re doing me a big enough favour by just inviting me.”

“It’s not a big deal. The last thing I need is you calling me from outside the event because security won’t let you in.”

Chaeyoung chuckles good-naturedly. “Well, that doesn’t not sound like me,” she agrees, disappearing back into her room. “Still,” she adds from inside, “it’s really cool of you.”

Hoseok struggles not to roll his eyes and checks his watch. They’ll make it on time if she wraps up in the next couple of minutes. He wonders if he can talk her into wearing some kind of scarf before deciding it’s not worth the hassle, for it’s almost guaranteed to start a fight.

“Chae, I don’t mean to be that guy,” he calls out, hearing vague sounds from inside her room, “but we should head out soon.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she says hurriedly, clutching a fistful of jewellery and shuffling out of the room in tiny steps, he presumes, so as to not trip over her heels. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know. I’m totally fine getting there by myself,” she tells him sombrely. “I hate to inconvenience you.”

“Fine, I’ll just leave in that case. You can take the bus and meet me there.” He turns to leave.

“Okay, okay.” She grabs his arm and grins sheepishly. “Thank you for the ride, oppa,” she says sweetly.

Hoseok does his best to ignore the vague fluttering in his stomach. “You got it. Now can we go?”

“Yeah, just a minute.” She heads over to the dining table and lays out the jewellery and mercifully doesn’t spend much time deciding on the simple silver chain with a pendant dangling from it. Grabbing a small clutch from the table, she approaches him.

“Do you mind?” She hands him the necklace. “I spent an hour doing my nails to perfection today and I really don’t want to ruin them.”

“Oh - um, okay.” A little taken aback, Hoseok takes the necklace, noting the dark purple pendant that matches her shoes. Chaeyoung turns around expectantly and he gingerly moves his arms over her head to bring the necklace around her neck. Before he can say anything, she sweeps her long hair off her neck and over her shoulder, revealing more skin than Hoseok had anticipated.

His fingers slightly unsteady, he tries to focus all his concentration on the delicate silver clasp and not on anything else - not his fingers brushing the indents of her spine, not the thin straps of her dress against her exposed back, not her moving closer to him to give him a better view so he can -

“Oh!” Hoseok jumps backwards like he’s been burnt. Chaeyoung turns around, too, looking startled.

“What?”

“I -” He looks up to see her frowning. “Nothing. It - it’s done,” he stutters, watching as she feels for the clasp and tugs at it once.

“Cool. Thanks.” She nods, flipping her hair back and looking at him. “Are you okay?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Hoseok nods. He can still feel her hips brushing against his, the suddenness of it and the smoothness of the satin, mixed with the flowery perfume.

“Sure?”

“Let’s go,” he says abruptly, spinning on his heel and stalking out the front door. He hears her gathering her keys and closing the door and he subtly adjusts his slacks, making sure she doesn’t notice when she joins him.

—

When they enter the venue, Chaeyoung lets out a low whistle.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, her gaze darting around the interior bathed in golden light. “I owe you big time for this, oppa.” She fluffs out her hair and takes a deep breath as Yoongi joins them, to whom she gives a small wave. “Okay, I see Sooah. She promised me tips on which guest to start with so I can work my way through the crowd. Thanks again for this,” she says, squeezing Hoseok’s arm appreciatively and walking away.

Hoseok watches her go in the direction of the small makeshift stage, her long hair dancing behind her. He can’t help but feel a little sorry as she does, for he was hoping she would at least hang around with him for the initial bit of the party.

“Isn’t that your friend’s sister?”

“What?” His train of thought interrupted, he turns to see Yoongi raising his eyebrows blankly. “Oh. Yeah. She needed access to a bunch of socialites for work, so I thought…” He gestures vaguely.

Yoongi nods. “She’ll definitely find those here. I kind of thought this would be a totally different crowd.” He clicks his tongue.

“The Samsung chairman is here,” he replies, tilting his head towards a group of men in slick suits. “So it’s that crowd. I mean, look around - there’s his daughter, she’s always in the paper. Then there’s… oh, that actor - Dong-won? Something like that. Choi Siwon is here, whoa… Suh Minjung, Kang Sera, Lim Hayeon…”

Yoongi pauses. Something stirs in the back of his mind. A name, a face, lots of diamonds, an air of superiority laced with insecurity. Just as he starts flipping through the memories, they’re joined by Seokjin and with him, his girlfriend Seulgi in a salmon-coloured dress, holding a martini glass.

“This restaurant is going to be insane,” declares Seokjin, once they’re done with basic pleasantries. “The appetisers are to die for.”

“The cocktails aren’t bad either,” says Seulgi approvingly, taking a sip of hers.

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Hoseok, his stomach already rumbling. He looks around again to see if he can spot Chaeyoung, his heart sinking slightly when he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t know how she’s planning to approach all these people tonight; he wonders if he should bring her a drink, just for liquid courage.

“Who else is here?” Seokjin asks.

“Taehyung and Jimin are running late, as usual,” supplies Yoongi. “Jungkook is here somewhere and Namjoon said he was reaching a few minutes ago…” He fishes out his phone, presumably to check.

“Isn’t that him right there?” Seulgi points towards the bar, and all three men turn to see Namjoon, tall and blond, at the bar. They watch as he accepts a glass of whiskey and takes a big sip from it, swallowing it with a pained frown before visibly forcing his face to relax as he starts to socialise.

“That’s not good,” remarks Hoseok in a low voice. “How was he in the studio today?” he asks Yoongi.

“I didn’t go. He said he could do it himself.” He shrugs apologetically. “I was fine avoiding him for a bit.”

Seulgi frowns. “Why are you guys avoiding him?”

Seokjin sighs hugely. “He and his girlfriend broke up and he’s… kind of using all his energy to be normal on stage and in public,” he ventures.

“So, he’s totally depressed in private,” says Hoseok, voicing what Seokjin had tactfully left unsaid.

She winces. “That’s rough.”

Seokjin makes a noise of acknowledgement. “We can’t let him drink himself to death tonight just because there’s an open bar, though. Someone needs to look out for him.”

Hoseok gives him a look. “He’ll be fine; he’s technically working. But I can do it,” he adds quickly, when Seokjin narrows his eyes at him. “For a while.”

“I’ll take over for you,” offers Yoongi as Hoseok leaves to go to Namjoon, looking at his phone again. “Nari’s calling - hang on.” He answers it and backs away from the rest of the group.

“Right.” Seokjin exhales and puts his hands in his pockets. “I almost forgot Nari was coming.”

He misses Seulgi’s fleeting frown. “Really? You mentioned it in the car.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.”

Seokjin looks confused for a moment but then looks ahead to see Yoongi and Nari entering the venue, stopping at the bar first. They seem to be speaking in short sentences, his hands in his pockets and hers crossed over her chest as she looks around warily. Her eyes meet Seokjin’s for a moment and he smiles a bit in response, raising a tentative hand in greeting. At that moment, however, the bartender slides her drink across the bar and she turns away, nodding at something Yoongi says.

They walk over, Nari hanging back slightly as they approach.

Seulgi speaks first. “Hi, Nari,” she says, giving her a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” replies Nari, looking slightly awkward. “You, too.” There’s a pause where no one speaks. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. You do, too.”

“Thanks.”

Seokjin, feeling rather like he wants to die, takes a deep breath. “Good to know you got the evening off.”

“Yeah, I was in a fourteen hour surgery last night and I’ve worked overtime this week.” She shrugs and her face relaxes a bit. “They basically told me to take the night off.”

He smiles a little wider, glad they’re at least talking, when Yoongi interrupts them.

“I’ll be right back,” he says abruptly, walking away with no further explanation, his gaze trained in one direction.

Leaving the others, he walks as quickly as he can without attracting attention, making a beeline for a person whom the universe has made it impossible for him to run into at Big Hit during the last two days that he’s been here in Seoul.

Miso notices him when he’s about ten feet away, her face lighting up momentarily at the sight of him before it immediately freezes into a warning one. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head infinitesimally, but he’s already reached her.

“Hey, stranger,” he mutters, sounding slightly breathless to his own ears.

“Go away,” she whispers through gritted teeth. “Now.”

Something feels like it’s getting crushed in his stomach when she looks away from him, but it’s only then that he notices who she’s with; a group of women, all dressed in designer wear and holding glasses of champagne, beginning to take notice of him one by one.

“You look familiar,” says one of them, looking brilliantly beautiful in a red low-cut gown. “Are you an actor?”

Yoongi starts to shake his head, but someone else answers for him.

“No. He’s Miso’s… friend.” Kang Sera, once again laden in diamond jewellery and a beige dress with smaller diamonds encrusted in it, smiles without disturbing the rest of her face. “You have been to my house,” she states.

“Well… yes, ma’am.” Yoongi nods, noting from the corner of his eye how Miso stiffens next to him. She’s in a white dress tonight, looking smaller and more delicate among this crowd of rich socialites than he’s ever seen her. He forces himself not to turn towards her. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Sera gives him that same cold smile before turning to her daughter. “Miso, you may go with your friend if you wish,” she offers. “You don’t have to stay with us. We’ll just bore you.” Everyone titters in response.

Yoongi is about to sigh inwardly in relief when, to his surprise, Miso shakes her head. “Thank you, Mother, but we’re just colleagues. Yoongi has other friends here. I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” she says to him smoothly, reaching over to switch her empty champagne flute from a passing waiter. She turns away again, this time with a sinking finality.

He swallows and backs away, before turning around and finishing the rest of his drink in one go as he walks away. He’s barely reached the bar again when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Kang Chanel [18:50] I’m sorry. But you have to stay away tonight.

All of a sudden, the room seems a little brighter. Yoongi looks in her direction; she isn’t looking at him, standing silently and unsmiling among the other women of Seoul, looking terribly out of place.

Min Suga [18:51] Why? I’m not afraid of your mother.

He watches as she subtly turns her phone towards her, her hand near her hip, and types out a reply with one hand.

Kang Chanel [18:51] You don’t have to be. Just do as I ask. Please.

Yoongi clutches his phone tightly, feeling every lingering ounce of worry and fear and downright uncertainty about Miso that he’s kept to himself the last two months while on tour. That’s the worst part: the uncertainty of what the hell her life is, of why she’s so guarded all the time. Every conversation he’d initiated stayed frustratingly limited to texting, making it far easier for her to divert the topic every time it came to her.

“How’s it going?” Hoseok appears from seemingly nowhere, tapping his fingers on the bar. “Um… one appletini and… one Long Island Iced Tea,” he says to the bartender before turning back to Yoongi. “Hyung?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. “What about you? Two drinks?”

“One’s for Chaeyoung,” he answers. “She’s been gone for a while and I just want to make sure she’s okay and stuff. Have a drink with her, make sure she’s not lonely or bored. I brought her here; it’s only polite.”

Yoongi nods absently before frowning. “Weren’t you on Namjoon duty?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to take over now. If you want company, you can ask… no, Jimin is hanging around Sooah… oh, Taehyung is free,” he offers. “He and Jungkook are discussing the conditions for Dilara’s race this weekend but other than that, they might be fun.”

He considers this. “Sure. Not like I have anything else to do,” he mutters, taking his second whiskey and hopping off the stool.

Something is off with Yoongi, Hoseok is sure. But he isn’t about to let that negativity dim his focus. He grabs the drinks and snakes through the crowd to where he sees Chaeyoung with a couple of vaguely familiar chaebol-turned-actors, and Park Jimin. They’re all smiling and talking, and she has her phone out as one of them talks deliberately into the speaker.

“And that’s my official statement,” he declares, winking at her as Hoseok comes closer.

Chaeyoung laughs and locks her phone deliberately. “Thank you. I can’t wait to hear your unofficial statements now.” She turns to see Hoseok. “Oh - hey.”

“Hey,” he says, casually making his way in between her and the guy she was talking to. “Thought I’d get you a drink, in case you’re too busy to get one.”

“Oh, well… technically, I’m working,” she says sheepishly, accepting it anyway. “But one drink won’t hurt, I guess.”

“The more, the better,” her new friend says.

“Hyung, did you get a drink for me, too?” Jimin pipes up hopefully.

“Nope. Who are your friends?” he asks Chaeyoung, smiling frozenly at the other two.

“Oh, this is Lee Eunwoo -” she points to the first one “- and this is, of course, Kim Baekhyun from The Lost Ship,” she finishes, smiling brightly. It’s a different smile, Hoseok notices. He wonders if this is her work smile; either way, he knows it’s one he’s never seen. “This is -”

“J-Hope!” One of them - Eunwoo or Baekhyun - says loudly and in mild wonder. “Honour to meet you!”

Slightly mollified, he nods. “Er, thank you. Are you both -”

“Drinks!” he continues, snapping at a waiter and beckoning for him to come over. Hoseok frowns at him while Chaeyoung and Jimin visibly cringe, and watches as he supplies Jimin and his friend with fresh drinks. “To BTS!” he declares randomly, holding his glass out so everyone clinks theirs with it.

“Chaeyoung was telling us about her job,” says the other one - Hoseok can’t remember which one he is. “She’s been working very hard tonight,” he adds, giving her another wink.

Hoseok imagines knocking his glass out of his hand so his drink spills down his crisp white shirt. “She’s a hard worker. Always has been,” he says instead, throwing a brave arm around her shoulders. He ignores Jimin’s raise of the eyebrows and the slight pink tinge that appears on Chaeyoung’s cheeks.

He hangs around there for a while, a chaotic group of twenty-somethings drinking with gusto at what was supposed to be a classy event. Sooah joins them for about ten minutes as well, taking a short break from her organising duties, and somehow influences everyone to chug their drinks and get fresh ones.

“I’m good,” says Chaeyoung, good-naturedly declining another drink. Sooah doesn’t push and Hoseok, relieved at Chaeyoung’s decision, is about to decline another one as well when one of the chaebols gets involved.

“I thought we were just getting started!” he groans jokingly. “It’s seven-thirty - the drinking has barely commenced,” he adds, taking another drink from a waiter, who pauses expectantly with the remaining drinks on the tray.

Something about the guy��s - Eunwoo, Hoseok decides - statement sounds vaguely challenging. Hoseok knows better, though. He should know better, but the image of Eunwoo winking at Chaeyoung compels him to accept another flute of champagne and clink it hard with his.

“Hoseok, are you sure?” Chaeyoung asks in a low voice.

“Of course, I am,” he answers, even as his vision swims slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re kind of leaning on me a bit,” she tells him, holding his shoulder to steady him.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” he asks vaguely, taking another long swig of the bubbly champagne and feeling it go directly to his head. It stings his throat pleasantly and he welcomes the sensation, the only other ones he’s completely aware of being Chaeyoung’s hand on his shoulder and the familiar flowery scent.

She chuckles. “Sure. But maybe you should drink some water?”

It sounds like a good idea. He bites his lip, though, and looks down at Chaeyoung seriously. “And you’ll stay right here when I’m gone?”

“Absolutely,” she promises. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Alrighty. I’ll come find you.” He pats her head and makes his way to the bar, using all his concentration to walk to the bar in a straight line. The further he gets away from that noisy group, the steadier he feels. He reaches the bar and stops himself next to a woman nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre.

“Hoseok?”

He does a double take when he notices her. “Nari?” He blinks a couple of times to confirm that it is indeed her. “Wh - hey! It’s been a while. Are you here with, um…”

“Jin? No.” She shakes her head. “I’m here with Yoongi, actually?”

Hoseok wonders if he’s heard her correctly. “Really?” When she nods, he frowns. “Min Yoongi? Like, our -”

“Yes, that one.” She rolls her eyes as her drink arrives, along with Hoseok’s glass of water.

“Oh.” He takes a slow sip. “Does Jin hyung know?”

Nari exhales heavily. “It was his idea, apparently. Unfortunately, my date seems to be very busy and has been MIA for most of the evening so far.”

Hoseok feels rather like he’s missing something, but he’s intrigued. He locates Chaeyoung with some effort, still with the same group, Jimin still with them. Almost as though she can hear his train of thought, she catches his eye and waves, miming drinking something.

“She’s cute,” remarks Nari. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my date,” he says, surprisingly easily.

“Mhm. Like a date-date or a date you kind of abandon once she’s inside?”

“Erm… a date-date.” Hoseok chews his bottom lip awkwardly. “God, I hope they serve the food soon,” he says after a few moments.

“Me, too,” she starts to say when, to Hoseok’s immense relief, Namjoon and Yoongi approach them, the latter giving Hoseok a meaningful look as he trails slightly behind the leader.

“Please tell me they’re serving the food soon,” groans Namjoon, placing his empty glass on the bar and standing next to Hoseok. “Oh - hey, Nari.”

Nari nods at him while Yoongi stands on her other side. “Cheers,” he says quietly, clinking his glass with hers, apparently not noticing her motionless stature. “Where’s Jin hyung?” he asks after a moment.

“No idea. How’s your night going?” she asks in turn, a slight bite in her tone.

He shakes his head. “Crap.”

She doesn’t bother answering, choosing to sip at her drink instead. “I could really use some food,” she mutters, mostly to herself.

“I’m heading over to the appetiser station. If you want to come,” offers Namjoon indifferently.

“Sure, why not?” With that, she and Namjoon leave the bar without another word to Hoseok or Yoongi.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to go with him?” Hoseok hisses.

“Namjoon is a big boy. He can manage himself for a while,” says Yoongi dismissively. His eyes roam the hall, searching for Miso. Every moment that he doesn’t see her feels like something bad waiting to happen; the memories of the last time they were at a party and she disappeared from his sight haunts him. How late he’d been to save her, what possibly happened as a result of it… it’s kept him up more nights than he cares to count, despite Miso herself absolving him of any guilt.

His anger at the enigmatic Kang Jaesung rises again, as it has at various times in the last couple of months. He’s not here tonight, though; Yoongi has checked the guest list with Sooah, but it’s no matter. Miso’s father isn’t here, but her mother certainly is.

Miso’s message floats through his mind. He knows he should adhere to her wishes but it’s so hard, so difficult to sit here and do nothing and know nothing when he has at least an inkling of how horrible her parents are. Just as he’s struggling with this dilemma, in an insane coincidence, Kang Sera takes Nari’s vacant spot and orders a drink.

Yoongi freezes, noting vaguely as Hoseok floats away with a fresh drink in his hand. Before he can decide whether to say anything, she seems to notice who he is.

“Miso’s friend,” she exclaims, the same half-smile on her face again.

“Yoongi.” He pauses. “Nice to meet you again.”

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Miso’s. It doesn’t happen very often, actually,” she chuckles. “Remind me again how you know each other?”

“We’re co-producers at Big Hit,” he answers. “We’re in the same - we used to be in the same team. Until recently.” He bites his lip.

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you anymore?”

She wanted a change and I pushed her into it without knowing. “It’s just part of the deal,” he says instead. “We all work with different producers.”

“Interesting. You’re the only one I’ve ever heard of, though,” she points out. “I’m glad she has a friend. I worry about her sometimes, you know.”

Yoongi lowers his head, trying not to look too confused. He’s insightful enough to know that she’s not being genuine about concern for her daughter, but he also can’t tell what she’s getting at.

“She’s - she’s good at her job,” he says eventually. “We’ve worked together for a while.”

It’s back, the cold smile, as though she’s forgotten how to show real happiness. “That’s great. You should come home sometime, in that case. For dinner. We have a world renowned private chef who can make you anything you like.”

Yoongi nods his head in silence, more preoccupied with imagining being seated opposite Kang Jaesung at the dining table and keeping calm rather than the private chef and his prowess.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “In fact, if you’re free -“

Something appears in between them and Yoongi realises a moment later that it’s Miso, placing herself between them with her back to him. Her hair brushes against his shoulders and his heart catches.

“Mother, Minseo from Balmain is here,” she says calmly, cutting her off. “She said she was looking for you, so I thought I’d look for - oh. Hello, Yoongi.”

She glances at him for barely a moment; he can almost believe that they hardly know each other.

Sera raises her eyebrows and her eyes flit between both of them before she nods. “Of course. Have a good evening, Yoongi. And it’s rude to interrupt, Miso.”

With that, she sweeps away in a flash of finery and Chanel No. 5.

“Wow,” he exhales, shaking his head. “Your mother is -“

“Unbelievable,” hisses Miso, glaring at him before stalking away in the opposite direction from her mother.

“Wait, what?” Momentarily stumped, Yoongi abandons his drink and follows her. She’s fast, though; he doesn’t catch up with her until she’s halfway to the appetiser station, by the giant four foot menus with he five-course meal printed on it. There are fewer people here and she automatically slows down.

“Miso -“ He reaches for her arm but she flinches out of his grasp.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispers furiously, her head farting around cautiously.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to - look, you told me to stay away from you and I did, but -“

“When I said stay away, I meant from me and my family. Especially my mother,” she adds with a disgusted look. “Why can’t you just do what I ask, for once?”

“But I didn’t even do anything - she came up to me.”

“So? You couldn’t have walked away?”

“No, that’s rude!” he exclaims, still in the same exchange of whispers, sighing when she scoffs in disbelief. “Look, can you just tell me why -“

“No, I can’t, because it’s none of your business,” she snaps. “Stay away, Yoongi. I mean it.” As though completely unaware of his stomach sinking into his knees, she storms off in a sea of white.

—

Nari states at her reflection in the women’s powder room, the entire area bigger than her living room. She’s starting to realise she has no idea why she’s here or why she’d ever wanted to come in the first place.

Even worse, she has no idea why it occurred to her one second after she told Seokjin that she wanted to go, that he would be bringing his girlfriend along. Far from it being a way to gingerly reconcile, it’s only serving to remind her why she’d chosen to stay away all this time.

She hasn’t seen any of the others for longer than a few seconds. Hoseok already seems on his way to getting wasted, Jimin greeted her warmly but then scooted off, while Taehyung and Jungkook haven’t been spotted at all.

Ironically, the only person she’s actually talked to tonight has been Namjoon, the one person Yoongi advised her dryly to try and avoid. It was one of eight words that her blessed date had uttered to her before disappearing. Namjoon was clearly in a bad way but misery loves company, and on some cathartic level, Nari was glad to be miserable with someone else who was also miserable.

Except Namjoon knew what he was miserable about. Nari had only an inkling that she refused to get into right now, when the stall door behind her opens, and Seulgi appears.

“Oh.” She looks surprised as well, taking a beat before standing one basin away from Nari. “Hi. Haven’t seen you much tonight.”

Nari nods, not looking at her. She wishes Seulgi hated her. She wishes she hated Seulgi, but beyond a nagging indifference, she can’t find anything.

She is not the problem, says a voice in her head. The voice is knowing, and Nari shuts it up instantly.

With a huge effort, she meets Seulgi’s gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I’ve been… around,” she answers. “Went out to get some air and stuff.”

Seulgi nods. She seems far more guarded than she had during the dinner, much more like their accidental chance meeting at the coffee shop. “Yeah, it’s more crowded than I thought it would be. Seokjin’s been in work-mode all night, talking to all these important people.” She shakes her head and half-chuckles. “It’s kind of boring.”

Tell me about it. “I’m just here for the food,” says Nari wryly.

A smile flashes across Seulgi’s face as she washes her hands. “Me, too. Can’t come soon enough.” She pauses. “You came with Yoongi, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Right. Seokjin told me. I wasn’t sure - I saw you with Namjoon a couple of times so I thought maybe…” She shrugs uncertainly.

There’s a couple of seconds where Nari processes what she means. “Oh. No. God, no.” She shakes her head vigorously. “No, no. Absolutely not.”

Seulgi raises her eyebrows at this emphatic denial. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Sorry. Didn’t mean to assume.”

“That’s okay.”

She nods and begins rummaging in her clutch for lipstick. Nari sneaks a glance at her, wondering wildly for a moment what would happen if Seulgi’s assumption was true. If she and Namjoon did hook up tonight, the amount of alcohol it would take for that to happen, how Seokjin might react…

A moment later, she shakes her head, a little shocked at the road her thoughts took. She sticks her hand out under the faucet and rinses them with rigour, as if hoping to get rid of her momentary insanity.

She and Seulgi exit the powder room together, an awkward distance maintained between them.

“Do you want to join us for a drink?” Seulgi asks, pointing towards the party.

Nari follows the direction of her thumb and sees Seokjin standing with Taehyung and another person she doesn’t recognise, the latter two doing all the talking while Seokjin stands with them, hands in his pockets and comfortably silent.

He doesn’t like these parties at all. There was a time, aeons ago, where Nari would be studying late at night and would suddenly get a text from Seokjin, complaining about the number of people he was around. They would then engage in a game of reverse twenty questions where Seokjin would get a picture taken with a handful of guests, and he and Nari would invent an entire background and personality for them.

That was Before, though. Now, Nari looks at Seokjin and then at Namjoon across the room where he’s speaking to someone else, nodding with a forced smile on his face. It’s a choice between mostly comfortable silence and minor small talk with a friend, and feeling like her heart is getting squeezed further with every breath she takes.

“Maybe later. Thanks.” Nari waits for her to nod before walking towards Namjoon, deliberately not looking in Seokjin’s direction. “Hey,” she says to him, as his companion floats away. “Do you want another drink?”

“Always,” he mutters, and they head to the bar and order two whiskey sours. Namjoon leans against the bar and surveys the room, exhaling. “Can this night end already?”

“I know, right?”

Namjoon frowns slightly. “Didn’t you come here with Yoongi? Where is he?”

“Who knows?” It was annoying her before, but now she’s over it. Mostly. “Last time I saw him he was talking to some lady at the bar.”

“Really? Who?”

“The rich one.”

He chuckles without humour. “That narrows it down,” he agrees wryly as their drinks arrive. They don’t bother moving but as it turns out, they don’t have to. Her aforementioned date appears then, frowning deeply at nothing in particular as he holds a glass with a tiny bit of golden liquid in it. He gives both Namjoon and Nari a cursory nod and finishes the rest of his drink in one go.

Before they can exchange any more words, Seokjin arrives with Hoseok in tow. He meets Nari’s eyes and gives her a tentative smile that she tries to return before averting her gaze. Namjoon’s words have reminded her of Seokjin’s role in this mess of a situation; his monumentally stupid decision of setting her up with someone who obviously didn’t want to be set up.

“Uh… Namjoon?” Seokjin asks delicately, his eyes on his glass now. “Is that your… fourth? Fifth drink?”

Namjoon pauses, his glass halfway to his mouth. “Third. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just. None of us have actually… seen you drinking for a while, so we weren’t sure. But, okay. Third is… not bad. Third is good.”

Nari struggles not to roll her eyes at how transparent all three of the newcomers are, and if she can tell what they’re up to, Namjoon certainly can.

“I’m fine, hyung,” he says at last. “Just letting loose a little bit.”

Yoongi scoffs, so softly that Nari takes a moment to realise. “What have you been the last two hours then?”

“Keeping your date company,” he shoots back calmly. “Good thing I didn’t bring one, turns out.”

On her other side, Yoongi nods, his jaw hard and his tongue in his cheek. “Not by choice, though.”

Namjoon freezes and even Nari winces inwardly. In front of her, Seokjin purses his lips as though bracing himself for something, while Hoseok openly flinches with his entire face.

“Is that what this is?” Namjoon asks after a moment, looking around at them. “You’re… what? Trying to keep tabs on how much I’m drinking because I went through a break-up?”

“Of course not,” says Seokjin the same time that Hoseok says, “Not exactly.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “I’m doing a lot better than him,” he points out, gesturing at Hoseok, whose face is a brilliant red and is gently swaying next to Seokjin.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights at being called out, before his face relaxes slightly. “Ah, don’t feel bad, Namjoon,” he slurs slightly, placing a sympathetic hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “We’ve all had fights with girlfriends, so we - we get it,” he says, gesturing towards all three of them.

Yoongi scoffs again. “Yeah, except we don’t make it everybody else’s problem.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. “Yoongi,” he snaps admonishingly, sneaking a hesitant glance at Namjoon.

“I need some air,” he mutters, not looking at Yoongi. He places his glass on the bar in a deliberate motion and makes a show of displaying his empty hands to everyone, before leaving their small circle and striding away.

There’s some truly awkward silence while Nari sips at her drink for lack of anything better to do. Seokjin is still giving Yoongi a pointed look that the latter is avoiding while Hoseok, rocks back and forth on his feet before letting out a loud breath.

“Okayyy,” he says slowly. “So, I’m going to go find Chaeyoung. You know… make sure she’s doing okay and everything.” Nodding at his own words, he walks away in careful, straight steps.

Nari immediately foresees further discomfort, whether or not either Seokjin or Yoongi leave next, so beats them to it. “And I’m going to go…” She looks around hopefully, spotting Seulgi with Jungkook and deciding that even that is a better pair to be with right now. “... somewhere else.”

Yoongi avoids Seokjin’s gaze, interrupted briefly as he watches Nari walk away, before it returns to him.

“You really had to go there? We all know why he is in such a bad mood,” says Seokjin sternly, “but why the hell are you?”

Yoongi can’t bring himself to respond, for the answer is simply too ironic. The image of Miso walking away from him, her face when she’d first seen Sera speak to him, and her stinging rejection of his desire to help her make him want to yell into a dark tunnel.

Seokjin shakes his head in disappointment and walks off, leaving Yoongi alone to stew in his hideous mixture of anger and stress, and now guilt and shame. His feet take the lead, directing him automatically to Namjoon who has stepped outside near the smoking zone, both his hands in his pockets.

Yoongi stops beside him, half-hoping he’ll walk away. But he doesn’t; in fact, it doesn’t even seem like he’s registered the presence of another person.

“It’s a lot of second-hand smoke,” remarks Yoongi weakly. When Namjoon doesn’t respond, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Namjoon shakes his head once, slowly, presumably indicating his acknowledgement. Yoongi nods and is about to leave, except now that this topic has been broached, he can’t seem to follow his usual habit of not prying.

“I don’t get it, though,” he says, trying his best to be gentle. “How bad was this fight that she broke up with you? Is it the long-distance thing again? Because you’re on tour? I mean, it’s understandable that -”

“It wasn’t a fight,” interrupts Namjoon, not looking at him. “And she didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her.”

Yoongi frowns, for none of them would have guessed that. “What?” he exclaims, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “Why?”

Namjoon is quiet for so long that Yoongi thinks he may not answer at all. “Someone broke into her house,” he answers finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

A ripple of shock flows through Yoongi. “What? Like… by a burglar?”

“No. By fans. Our fans,” he clarifies, clearer now. “My - “ He breaks off, his tongue sharp in his cheek.

Yoongi remembers the few weeks of intense scrutiny and stress in the aftermath of that leaked video. It’s not hard to put two and two together. “Oh, shit,” he mutters, feeling another stab of guilt he wasn’t expecting to feel tonight. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s…” Namjoon trails away, then shrugs. “They didn’t hurt her this time.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Wait… is that why you ended it?” He tries to keep his tone neutral but isn’t sure he’s succeeded.

“I had to. This can’t happen again.” There’s a note of finality in the way he says it, and Yoongi knows he’s not meant to argue with him. He bites his lip as he watches Namjoon, his jaw tight and his eyes frozen straight ahead.

“How - how did she take it?”

He makes a sound of defeat. “She hates me.”

Yoongi tries to picture Kaya - beautiful, mature, dusky-skinned Kaya with adoring eyes when she looks at her taller boyfriend - hating Namjoon, and he decides he can’t. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She’s probably angry, maybe -”

“Oh, she is. But I don’t care.” He does a double take at Yoongi, then looks away. “I mean… of course I care… but she’s safe. She’s angry but she’s safe.” He swallows and continues looking resolutely ahead. “I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her.”

Something in the way he says it makes Yoongi feel extremely sorry for Namjoon. The logic of his decision aside, it occurs to Yoongi how his twenty-six year old leader probably wrestled with this alone, and suddenly his jab at the bar seems extremely petty.

“Namjoon…” he begins, feeling distinctly like a bad friend and brother, “why didn’t you tell us?”

He shakes his head. “We’re on tour. And it’s not your problem.” He says it matter-of-factly, a moment before he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his thumb and middle finger against them. “But I’m sorry,” he adds. “I haven’t - I haven’t been a good leader.” He sniffs and exhales, not responding to Yoongi’s resolute shake of the head. “I’ll be inside in a minute,” he says, giving Yoongi a momentary glance.

Yoongi nods and grips his shoulder supportively before heading inside. The hall suddenly seems too small, too crowded and too stifling. He needs a cigarette, he decides, and heads to the lobby after checking that it’s devoid of photographers or fans. He passes by the powder rooms on the way to the coat check, when the door opens and Miso steps out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Oh.” He halts, not knowing what more to say to her. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but apparently thinks better of it, side-stepping him and starting to walk away.

Namjoon’s words play in his mind. I’ll take any amount of anger from her if it means I’m doing what I can to protect her. It’s not the same situation, but it’s enough to spur Yoongi into action.

“Miso -” He waits until she turns around, then grabs her hand and motions towards the coat room. “Just one second,” he insists, immensely relieved when she rolls her eyes and follows him. Closing the door behind her and surrounded by designer shrugs, wraps and summer jackets, Yoongi finally breathes.

“You are impossible,” she states, but there’s less anger and more exasperation in her tone. “I swear, Min Suga, sometimes you act like you have nothing better to do than -”

Yoongi interrupts her. “I don’t care if you’re angry,” he declares.

She looks taken aback for a second at being cut off, but then her eyes narrow. “Excuse me?” she asks icily.

He hesitates; somehow, the words sounded far more impactful and heroic when Namjoon uttered them. “I just mean…” He closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts. He really doesn’t want to go overboard. “I don’t want you… to be angry with me. I’m not trying to make you angry but… Miso, I’m not afraid of your parents, okay?”

Miso sighs. “Yoongi -”

“And if I should be, at least tell me why,” he continues. “Because asking me to forget about it or pretend it doesn’t exist is not working. If you’re afraid of your mother, then -”

“I’m not afraid of her,” she blurts out, sighing and placing her hands on her hips before dropping them to her sides. “God, Min Suga… I can’t believe you’re making me say this. Do you remember that time I told you that my mother was sleeping with my twenty-four year old maths tutor?”

Yoongi frowns in surprise, remembering a cold night outside the Big Hit studio, shared cigarettes and mutual bickering. “Uh… yeah. You said you made that up,” he reminds her.

She gives him a look. “Obviously, you know I didn’t. She was sleeping with him… but I was sleeping with him first.” She doesn’t give Yoongi time to process this statement. “Right before I left for Australia? I was in a… situation with a classmate of mine. But then I ended it with him because I found my mom’s earring in his car and I left the country.”

Yoongi’s throat feels stuck. “What are you -”

“My mother was very young when she got married. My father ignores her. She craves attention, especially when it’s someone else’s.” Miso shakes her head and looks away. “And for some reason, she’s got it in her head that I’m her competition,” she finishes in a low voice.

There’s something she isn’t saying, but it’s also clear from the way she folds her arms across her chest that she isn’t going to. Something tugs at Yoongi’s heart as he watches Miso stare defiantly at something behind him, until her eyes dart up to him and she rolls them.

“Jesus, don’t make me spell this out, Min Suga,” she snaps, dropping her arms. “Just… do what I ask and stay away.” She doesn’t move, though, her hard gaze subsiding.

Yoongi closes his fingers into a fist to make sure his hand stays at his side. “You have nothing to worry about,” he says softly.

Miso’s eyes flicker. “I’m not worried about anything.” But the annoyance and chagrin is fading and unlike every time she’s held his gaze while making some sort of sarcastic point, this time she’s struggling to hold it with the same confidence.

“Good.” His fingers loosen and he lets them. “You shouldn’t be.” He just about registers the statement dawning on her before he steps forward and kisses her, one hand in her hair and the other hovering against her elbow.

He can tell she wasn’t expecting it so he waits for her, waits until the shock wears off and she hesitantly responds, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips slowly increasing in pressure. He opens his mouth against hers only when she does, euphoric that she’s finally, finally telling him something.

She tilts her head up a bit more and places one hand on his chest for support, and Yoongi gently clutches her hair, suddenly resonating so desperately with Namjoon’s words.

The door of the coat room opens then and Miso jerks away from him. Both their heads whip around to see Nari in the doorway, the surprise in her face already fading away when she sees Yoongi. With a quiet scoff, she steps back and pushes the door shut again.

Miso lets out a shaky breath. “Shit. Who was that?”

“Nari. She’s a friend. Don’t worry,” he adds when she turns slowly towards him again. “She won’t tell anyone.”

She nods and Yoongi realises his hand is still in her hair. He retrieves it with care, his heart still racing with what just transpired. Miso bites her lower lip as her gaze falls to the floor, licking her lips before she looks up at him again.

“Min Suga,” she murmurs, pursing her lips slightly. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the pit of disappointment in his stomach. “Too late.”

She shakes her head slightly but doesn’t look angry, or sad, or afraid. But there’s something in her eyes, something conflicted that convinces Yoongi not to regret his impulsive act. She reaches up and rubs the side of his lower lip with her thumb and he has to stop himself from taking her wrist. The skin is clear now but the memory of the bruise around it, something he’s now sure he knows the cause of, stays burned in his mind.

“Wait a couple minutes before you leave, okay?” She raises her eyebrows until he eventually nods, watching her as she slips out of the room and closes the door behind her.

Alone, Yoongi muffles a groan into his hands. He obeys her, though, counting down the seconds until he deems it appropriate to leave. On his way back to that wretched party, however, he’s accosted by someone.

“Yoongi!” Kang Sera gives him a pearly smile, still guarded, still assessing. “What a coincidence. I haven’t seen Miso around for a while - would you have any idea where she is?”

Yoongi shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“Oh. Never mind.” She tilts her head slightly and her eyes soften. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer I made, though. It would be so nice to have one of Miso’s friends over for dinner.”

He imagines admitting to Miso that she might be onto something, imagines the smugness that would accompany her response. She would be insufferable at his admission and for some reason, the thought excites him immensely.

“Thank you, ma’am, but that looks a little difficult. Have a good night.” He bows before she can say anything and continues past her, feeling more energetic than he has the whole night, his lips tingling.

—

Jungkook glances backwards at the appetiser station longingly, wishing they weren’t on tour so he wouldn't have to simply watch people eat. As fancy as the menu looks, they still haven’t served dinner and he is famished. Luckily, he’d managed to sneak in a protein bar in his jacket on Taehyung’s advice and in a fortunate turn of events, the coat room is out of the way enough from the main hall that they can break the rules.

He marches in a straight line, head down and careful not to draw any attention. Sneaking around the attendant at the desk, he slides towards the door, only to see it slightly ajar. He moves to open it a little further when he hears a voice inside - crying.

Or not crying, exactly, but there’s a shaking of the voice and some sniffling, and Jungkook feels his insides cringe at the awkwardness of catching someone in a moment of vulnerability. His stomach rumbles again at that moment and he closes his eyes, knowing he needs that protein bar before he snaps and swallows a tempura roll whole in public.

“- everyone else!” The voice cries, the voice high-pitched yet in a clear effort to not be loud. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying, but you -” The voice, a woman’s pauses, and Jungkook can hear the garbled sound of a response through a phone speaker, sounding far calmer than her.

“But everyone else is here! You didn’t come for the Spring Gala last month and now this - it’s so embarrassing every time!” She pauses again and scoffs. “She’s fine! How does that matter? Is she all you care about?” There’s another pause and a sniffle before the woman responds, this time sounding far more annoyed. “She has some friend here, apparently. Doesn’t seem very impressive,” she adds in a mutter.

Jungkook wonders if he can sneak in anyway. The hunger is killing him and this woman seems so invested in her phone call that she might not notice him at all. Biting his lip and holding his breath, he slips into the dim room and looks around for his jacket. There are rows of clothing, though, and he hasn’t a clue how to locate his own.

“You said that last time, too! Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” There’s the sound of a response again, followed by the unmistakable click of the call ending. The woman sniffles again but stops abruptly. “Is someone there?” she asks sharply.

Jungkook freezes, but before he can devise a way out, the woman appears from behind a row of coats and glares at him through red eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I was just looking for my, um -” He looks around desperately, hoping his black jacket will pop out to him from the sea of other black jackets.

To his surprise, the woman simply shakes her head and dabs at the corner of her eye with a knuckle. She’s beautiful, in an old-fashioned, seventies movie kind of way, her dress dripping with diamonds. Terribly uncomfortable, Jungkook clears his throat.

“Are - are you okay?” he ventures bravely.

She turns away and sniffs again. “Fine. Just alone.”

She says no more and Jungkook takes that as his opportunity to get the hell out of here, protein bar be damned. He can survive a few more minutes before dinner; he’s survived worse.

“Well, I’ll just…” He trails off and makes a beeline for the door when she turns to him again. He halts, trying not to look too panicked at the sight of his exit behind her.

“You look familiar,” she states, frowning slightly. She smells of something vaguely sweet. It’s not perfume; it takes him a moment to realise she smells like Jimin - like cocktails. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers, although she looks somewhat familiar as well, like one of the many faces on the socialite pages in Seoul’s local newspapers.

She gives him a watery smile. “Pity.” She reaches out and smooths down the collar of his shirt. “Such a handsome boy. I knew so many like you when I was your age. I’m sure you have a girlfriend, though.”

Jungkook shakes his head wordlessly, feeling his ears and neck heat up. She’s really close, this woman. Her nails are painted a calm nude and her cheeks and nose are rosy, probably from the crying.

“Imagine that,” she murmurs, reaching up and kissing him. Jungkook is too shocked to move, freezing in his spot and feeling with staggering clarity her lips against his, the taste of her lipstick and her hand cupping his neck. It takes a few more seconds for it to click and the horror to settle in, and he immediately steps away.

“Sorry, I - I’m not…” Unable to form a full response, Jungkook passes around her and dashes out of the coat room.

—

Nari hurries out of the hotel, welcoming the slight chill of the evening and the fresh air after the pervasive goldenness of the hall. She’ll miss the dinner but nothing is worth staying another second at the most boring party she’s ever been to.

“Nari!”

She ignores Seokjin and continues on her way, eager to make it past the gate to where Jason will pick her up. She hears him shout her name again but doesn’t turn until she hears his footsteps right behind her and he suddenly comes into view.

“You’re leaving?” He sounds slightly breathless. “Already?”

“Seokjin, this has been a crappy night and I really don’t want to do this with you, okay?” she states and tries to skirt around him but he stops her.

“What? What did I do?” he asks, looking genuinely baffled. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all night but you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. Then I thought I should probably leave you alone because I saw you with Namjoon and then Yoongi for a little while -”

“You want to know what you did?” Nari feels as though she might burst. “How about setting me up on a date without asking me?”

Seokjin frowns in bewilderment. “Who are you - wait, are you talking about Yoongi?”

“How about setting me up on the worst date of my life, with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to talk to me all night?” she continues, ignoring him because now that she’s begun, she can’t seem to stop. “And then there’s Namjoon, who seems borderline suicidal, while Yoongi is making out with some girl in a coat closet and Hoseok seems to be on the verge of passing out while you’re -”

“Okay, wait, wait - hold on!” He interrupts her, looking thoroughly confused. He doesn’t speak until Nari falls silent. “Who was Yoongi kissing?” Nari turns to leave in a huff but Seokjin grabs her arm again. “And also… I’m confused. I thought you liked Yoongi.”

“I do like Yoongi. He’s a good guy - but a terrible date,” she informs him. “And I can’t believe you’d set me up with him! It’s like you don’t know anything about me - when have he and I ever had anything in common?”

“But -” Seokjin shakes his head. “Nari, I didn’t set you up. You said you wanted to go and he had an extra ticket, so I suggested he check with you. That’s all.”

Nari swallows, her heartbeat loud in her ears. “Yeah… he checked with me and asked me to go with him?”

“On a date?” Seokjin doesn’t look convinced. “Did he actually say it was a date?”

“Yes, he - oh, my God. He didn’t.” She freezes and covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God.” Did she just imagine a date? She feels light-headed, suddenly reminded that she hasn’t slept properly in thirty hours. Her stomach crawls in embarrassment and she squeezes her eyes shut before turning around on the spot and starting to walk away in bigger steps.

“No. No way.” Seokjin darts in front of her again. “You don’t get to be mad at me and yell at me for something I didn’t even do.”

“Oh, believe me, I know this was all me, okay?” She shudders, unable to meet his eyes out of sheer humiliation. “I’m leaving. We’re on the same page.”

“No, we aren’t. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Tough. Move, Seokjin.”

“Nari -” He grabs her shoulders for one moment, stopping her in her tracks before releasing her. “You are mad at me. You’re mad at me about something but you don’t want to talk about it, so you’re just looking for other reasons to be mad at me, just so you can be mad at me. But I’m done,” he declares, and she hasn’t seen him look this serious in a long time. “I’m done being your punching bag and I’m done letting you chew me out until you tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

Her heart races uncomfortably. “Seokjin… I’m sorry I blamed you, okay? But I… nothing’s bothering me. I just want to leave.”

“Bullshit.” He fixes her with a look, his jaw sharp and his eyebrows slanted. “For heaven’s sake, Nari. Seventeen years. We’ve been friends for seventeen years - what is so bad that you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not… bad.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t do anything wrong!” she blurts out, frustrated. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she repeats. “But I’m mad at you anyway, which means this is my problem. I can’t tell you because… because you can’t do anything about it.”

Seokjin swallows. “Tell me anyway,” he says quietly.

There’s a loaded silence between them and Nari knows it’s because they’ve reached the crux of the issue, the thing they’ve been avoiding all this time.

But maybe this is it. Maybe this is the time. It would make a mess of everything, but maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would become easier if she put it into words, if she took a risk and stepped over the line once in her life.

Taking a step forward, she takes a deep breath. Her hands go up to his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, only an inch above her own. She bravely meets his gaze. He isn’t stopping her, or stepping away. His eyes flicker, and it’s anticipation. Nari glances from his eyes to his mouth, pink and plush, and touches it with her thumb before moving closer.

Do it. Every cell in her body wants to do it, to take the plunge and deal with whatever comes out of it. But even as she talks herself into it, her heart sinks because she knows, she knows that despite what she feels, it will make no difference if she drags him down with her, if she is the reason he becomes a cheater. So, she drops her hands from his face and steps back, feeling her heart bang against her ribcage painfully.

“Nari - ”

“I wish,” she says, looking at the ground as she searches her heart for the moment it all went wrong. “I wish… that after you kissed me at Hyeri’s house… I wish I hadn’t left.”

The last word lingers in the night. “So stay now,” he murmurs, almost pleadingly.

But Nari shakes her head. “It’s not really the same thing. It’s fine, Seokjin. Really.” She takes a deep breath. “I need to sleep anyway.”

Seokjin looks like he wants to argue, but doesn’t. “How are you getting home?”

“A friend is picking me up.” She doesn’t mention a name but something in how he nods makes her quite certain that he knows she means Jason. “I’ll just…” She trails off when she sees someone else behind him. “Jungkook?”

Seokjin frowns and turns around and they both see Jungkook ambling out of the hotel, looking dazed. “Oi, Jungkook!” Seokjin exclaims when he doesn’t answer.

Jungkook’s head snaps up, and he looks slightly unfocused. “Hey,” he mutters, trudging over to them.

“Are you okay?” Nari asks, observing his quiet demeanour.

He nods immediately. “Yeah, yeah. Just… not feeling well.”

He’s clearly lying, but Nari doesn’t pry. “Okay. I’ll drop you home in that case. Come on.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he nods gratefully. “Yes, please.” He looks over at Seokjin. “I already told Namjoon hyung and he said we don’t have any pictures left…”

“Go,” agrees Seokjin, glancing at Nari. “And… take care.”

Nari doesn’t move for a moment, sharing a look with Seokjin before following Jungkook out of the gate.

—

“Careful, careful…”

Chaeyoung takes careful, deliberate steps as she helps Hoseok up the steps. Her heels dangle from one hand and his shoes dangle from one of his, from when he’d insisted on taking them off because he didn’t believe that she should be the only one barefoot.

“That’s not what it means to be a date,” he’d slurred as they crossed the street to her apartment building a few minutes ago.

Chaeyoung had given up on trying to make him put them on, focusing instead on ensuring that his phone, house keys and car keys were with her, along with her own belongings, and getting him into her apartment in one piece.

“I still don’t understand why you kept drinking,” she says admonishingly as they begin ascending the last flight of stairs. “Just because one guy says he won drinking games in college doesn’t mean you make it your mission to compete with him. Especially when you’re clearly out of your depth.”

“Hey, now wait a minute,” he replies, his words flowing into each other. “I didn’t do it for fun. I did it for a good reason.”

“Which is?”

“That he was being an obnoxious jerk.”

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes as they reach her doorstep. Fumbling a little with her keys, she manages to open the door and drag Hoseok inside, who stumbles into her tiny living room and flops onto the couch.

“Is it just me or is it sweltering?” he asks, taking off his jacket and groaning.

“It’s just you,” she confirms, chucking her heels to the corner and heading inside to the kitchen. “Don’t move,” she instructs him on her way out. “I’m going to get you some water.”

Hoseok smiles dreamily in acknowledgement. “Careful, caterpillar. You’re starting to sound like an adult.” But his tone is filled with fondness and endearment, enough that Chaeyoung is willing to overlook the ancient nickname.

“I am an adult,” she informs him, returning with a bottle of water and dropping it softly into his lap. He leans back and grins up at her, cheeks red and hair ruffled. “In fact, after tonight, I think I’m the adult here,” she points out, sitting down next to him. “Drink.”

He obeys without fuss, downing almost half the bottle before emerging breathlessly. “Wow, that was…” He glances at the bottle and squints “... cold.”

“It’s summer.”

“Thanks.” He sighs hugely. “Okay, I’m going to take off.”

“Wait, what?”

But Hoseok is already standing before he halts, swaying slightly before stumbling into Chaeyoung when she stands up to stop him.

“You are wasted, Hoseok,” she reminds him, pushing against him to make him sit back down. “Unless you can get one of your friends to come pick you up, you’re not going anywhere. I didn’t drive your gigantic car all the way here just for you to crash it into a lamp post.”

He pouts. “Buzzkill.”

Chaeyoung sticks her tongue out at him but is relieved when he doesn’t argue further. “You should lie down or something, oppa,” she tells him.

To her surprise, he nods, looking drained and on the verge of passing out. “I should,” he agrees weakly.

“Come on,” she says, standing up and helping him up. She steers him to her bedroom, glad he’s taken off his shoes and jacket already. “Why don’t you lie down and I’ll see if -” She breaks off when he falls on the bed onto his stomach, groaning.

Chaeyoung purses her lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have any clothes that will fit you.”

“Issokay,” he mumbles into the pillow, his eyes already fluttering shut before he opens them with some effort. “Don’t you want to sleep, too?”

“Yeah, I will.” She pauses, taking a moment to register how absurd this would be to ten year old Chaeyoung; taking care of Hoseok, the love of her life, because he got drunk trying to keep up with every person she talked to tonight. “Hoseok,” she says after a moment, her own voice sounding slightly different. “I’m going to get you the rest of that water and one of those Pop Tarts you brought me back from America. You shouldn’t sleep on an empty stomach. Okay?”

He cracks a smile, his eyes still closed. “You smell nice.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t bother suppressing her smile at that. When she returns from the kitchen, Hoseok is asleep.

—

Hoseok wakes up the next morning and immediately wishes he was asleep again. His head pounds with a vengeance and his stomach feels bloated and empty at the same time. As soon as he thinks it, he feels the bile in his throat and immediately scrambles out of the room and into the hallway bathroom, and throws up all the contents in his stomach.

Ten minutes later, after puking his guts out and lying down with his forehead pressed to the cool tiles, he emerges from the bathroom and shuffles into the kitchen and dining area. Chaeyoung is scrambling eggs and the smell of fresh coffee wafts from the machine in the corner.

“Wow,” she comments, looking up with the spatula in her hand. “You look like hell, Hoseok.”

He responds noncommittally and sits at the small table, dropping his head onto his arms. He remembers two things right then: the first, that he has dance practice starting in exactly one hour, and the second,

“Would you like some eggs?” she asks cheerily. “There’s coffee, too.”

“How are you not drunk?” he demands, raising his head and wincing.

She glances back at him with a frown. “Because I didn’t drink enough for a whole army? I was able to come home, change, drink water, scroll through Instagram for a while and wake up after a nice sleep.”

Hoseok is about to remark that he must have been dead to the world to not notice her awake when he catches a glimpse of the sofa. “Wait,” he says slowly, taking in the pillow and folded covers. “You slept on the sofa?”

Chaeyoung shrugs. “Yeah. Why?”

“But -” His shoulders fall. “I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own room. You could’ve slept there, too - there was enough room.”

“Yeah, I thought about it, but I didn’t want it to be accidentally weird this morning,” she reasons calmly, bringing him a mug of black coffee with ice floating in it. “And the sofa is totally comfortable. So don’t worry about it.”

“But -”

“Eggs?”

He opens his mouth to continue arguing but stops. “Yes, please,” he mutters sheepishly. “Thanks, Chae. Really. I owe you one.”

“Even after the braces and schnapps thing?”

“Especially after that.”

She grins and places a plate of toast and scrambled eggs before him. “Eat. You’ll need the energy. Especially if you were serious about the whole Harry Potter marathon thing. Actually,” she adds, frowning, “don’t you have dance practice?”

“Um -” It’s a simple question but he can’t seem to answer it. “Why?”

“I distinctly remember you mentioning it to me in the car. I definitely remember you warning Namjoon not to be late or you’d throw a shoe at him,” she adds dryly. “If it helps, he promised he would do his best to be on time.”

“Huh.” The schedule is on his phone; Hoseok suddenly remembers he hasn’t seen it at all this morning.

“Your phone is on the centre table,” she supplies, pre-empting his question when a soft ding sounds. “Oh, that’s the Pop Tarts.” Both of them leave the table in opposite directions.

Hoseok checks his messages and then his calendar. Yep, dance practice in forty-five minutes. He bites his lip; while he is feeling remarkably better than he had when he’d woken up this morning, his head still feels a bit heavy and his throat feels dry as sawdust, despite the coffee.

Just then, his phone pings.

Jimin [8:15] Leaving in 5. Suga hyung, Namjoon and Jungkook are already in the building. What’s your ETA?

It’s a good question. If he’s planning to drive his car home, shower, change and then leave, he might make it on time by the skin of his teeth.

“Everything okay?” Chaeyoung asks from the dining table, legs long and lean in her cotton shorts as she leans slightly over the table and places the Pop Tarts in the centre.

Then there’s the alternative. Chaeyoung’s sofa, Chaeyoung’s food, Chaeyoung’s Harry Potter marathon. He wonders how he would ever justify it to himself when he realises he already has.

Hobi [8:18] Threw up this morning. Might have food poisoning. I’ll try to come in after lunch. Sorry.

Sending it, he slides the phone into his pocket and tugs open the collar of his dress shirt. “No practice,” he says as he returns to the table. He returns Chaeyoung’s surprised expression with a shrug. “This is good toast, by the way.”

She beams, taking a bite of her own. “Thanks.”

Hoseok grins back, feeling his stomach do a backflip. “Now,” he says, dusting the crumbs off his hands, “when are we starting this marathon?”

—

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