Chapter Text
1
It’s a night like every other. The dark sky peeks through the windows to the flower caf é just as all the countless times before, and Hoseok smiles at the tranquility encompassing the 2am atmosphere.
He opened it hardly a few months ago, but even so, the place already feels like home. Just scanning the walls adorned by flowers of all kinds fills his heart with a certain sense of pride. It’s always been his dream - to create a place where everybody could find shelter in after a particularly long day, a warm cup of coffee with whipped cream atop always waiting for whoever is about to cross the doorsill next. Some weeks are harder on his wallet than the others, but considering the flower caf é opened just recently and his friend Seokjin, who is also an employee taking care of the business during the day shifts, only started with promotion on social media, Hoseok doesn’t fret too much about it. Everything takes time, especially the blooming of a business.
One would think, having the choice between the day and night shifts, Hoseok would undoubtedly prefer spending the late hours tucked in his bed and leisurely drawing circles in his dog’s fur, but that’s really not the case. Yes, Hoseok has dreamed about opening his flower coffee shop for the longest time, but it hadn’t immediately made him love social interactions, exactly. Aside from his roommate Yoongi and Seokjin, he can’t say he has that many friends. Then again - he doesn’t mind it at all. He assumes it was one of the reasons why Seokjin hadn’t protested when Hoseok asked him to take care of the day shifts, but maybe Seokjin just really liked having a sleeping schedule that doesn’t resemble an owl’s.
And so, just like that, Hoseok sits behind the counter tonight just like every night, the fragrance of roses invading his nostrils and sending a sweet sensation fluttering down his back. It’s Monday, so he doesn’t expect many customers. Especially not when it’s almost 3am and the couple in the romance novel he’s reading is so close to confessing their feelings. No one better dares to interrupt this small victory , crosses Hoseok’s mind, but he laughs at the thought. He’s always gotten immersed into things too easily.
When Hoseok’s eyes widen in excitement, reading what he suspects is the last paragraph before the main guy finally kisses his soon- to- be boyfriend, the door opens with the a quiet chime of a bell. Hoseok tears his eyes away from the page, a desperate grimace distorting his face in an almost comical way, because - can he just go back to reading, please?
However, the annoyance tugging at his features disperses when he sees the newcomer. It’s a man who seems a little bit taller than him, his torso drowning in an oversized black hoodie and eyes barely open. If it wasn’t for the sleepiness plastered onto his face, Hoseok would consider him attractive. Maybe he does anyway.
Hoseok narrows his eyes. The man doesn’t near the counter, instead he opts for the table by the wall and slumps into one of the armchairs, all of the few placed by other tables in different colors and musters. Hoseok sighs internally, because it means he’ll have to put his book aside and go take his order. Before he even manages to stand up, the man pulls the hood over his head, arms crossed over chest. Is he going to do what Hoseok thinks he will? As if to prove he’s right, the man leans to the side, head supported by the wall, and Hoseok waits and waits for him to move, to do something really, but he doesn’t. He looks deeply asleep, even his chest heaving slowly, in a measured pace.
Hoseok feels perplexed for a moment, but then remembers the purpose of his cafe. Maybe having somewhere to sleep is the kind of shelter the man by the table seeks after. Hoseok won’t be the one to rid him of that.
Hours later, when the darkness of the night gradually morphs into the orange tones of the dawn, Hoseok hears closing of the door. Lifting his eyes, he realizes the man is gone. He shrugs and goes back to reading. It’s the scene where one of the characters will propose, there’s no way Hoseok will miss that.
Only after Seokjin finally comes in and starts cleaning the tables, while Hoseok’s mind is still being captured by the book, does he register in the back of his head a voice saying that someone left three thousand won on one of the tables.
It doesn’t matter that much to him then, but if he could pinpoint the moment Jungkook made it into his life, it would probably be these three thousand won he would recall.
2
It’s around 10am when Hoseok finds himself entering the door to his and Yoongi’s apartment. It’s three floors above the flower cafe and once again, he can’t believe how lucky he was finding a rentable place and an apartment in the same building. If he had to spend additional hours on driving through the city or waiting for the bus he’d miss anyway, he doubts he would have decided to pursue his plans of opening it whatsoever.
“Hob-ah?”
Hoseok groans in response, toeing off his shoes.
“Why so late?” Yoongi’s voice sounds a lot louder now.
Hoseok swivels in the direction where he supposes the sound came from, but has to flinch, all of a sudden facing his friend.
“What the hell, hyung,” he calls, hands pressed onto his chest. “Why would you scare me like that?”
Yoongi throws at Hoseok one of his pointed looks.
“Is it my fault that you’re a scaredy-cat?”
“No, but it doesn’t make scaring me to death all that better,” Hoseok sighs.
He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to wipe away the sleepiness that creeped into his skin. Without the pressure, he blinks, perfectly unable to focus his vision no matter how often his eyelids turn Yoongi’s face into a black smudge. Sleeping it is.
Yoongi frowns and Hoseok feels thousand times worse for making him worry. In an attempt to alleviate the situation, he forces a strained smile that Yoongi catches on right away. His frowns deepens, but this time exhaustion blends it out too well for Hoseok to notice.
“Don’t worry, hyung,” Hoseok says, his smile ever unfaltering. “I just need to sleep it off.”
Yoongi hums, no other answer emerging his lips. Hoseok can’t say much about the other’s expressions, his eyelids now obscuring all of the outside world. He only feels Yoongi’s hand pushing him gently in the direction of his bedroom. Before he knows it, he lets himself fall onto the bed, hand curling around the edge of the comforter and pulling it up to his chin. The warmth cocooning his body mildens all the discomfort gnawing at his limbs.
“There was this guy,” Hoseok starts, not even knowing if Yoongi’s still in his room. “I think I saw him somewhere before. He wore that big hoodie and hyung - his nose was so cute.”
It’s the exhaustion talking and he knows it, but he lacks the energy to reinstall the filter through which his thoughts are granted allowance to be spoken aloud. It’s only Yoongi after all. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about Hoseok already.
“Big hoodie and a cute nose? Sounds like your type,” Yoongi laughs wholeheartedly.
“I don’t have a type,” Hoseok mumbles against the pillow and feels his mind slipping into the eery space in between being asleep, but not enough to dream just yet.
Somewhere in the back of his head he hears Yoongi mention that it sounds like the guy living two floors above them, but if Hoseok registers it, then he doesn’t let it show.
He falls asleep.
3
It’s 2am of the night the day after. Hoseok’s shift has been pretty uneventful so far and considering the time, he doesn’t think much will change. He yawns obnoxiously, not minding at all. He’s alone anyway. Unless the flowers won’t mock his bad manners, there’s not much judgment he can be exposed to.
He glances surreptitiously at the same book he hadn’t managed to finish the night before. His hand reaches for it, ready to skim through the pages, the motion flicking off the familiar fragrance that Hoseok fell in love with when he was an elementary student who spent most of his days hidden in the proximity of books rather than other kids. He even succeeds at finding the right paragraph, eyes locked and focused, but just then the door opens.
Yes, Hoseok is the owner of the cafe, yet right now, he really wishes he could just shoo away every lost customer that deemed it a good idea to get some coffee instead of good night sleep like every sane person would. His eyes hastily wander toward the source of the sound, and once they meet the same man who came to the cafe the night before, Hoseok’s resolve falters. Will he sleep again?
This time, the newcomer is wearing a black t-shirt, so oversized he could probably wrap it around his frame three times at least. What Hoseok hasn’t realized yesterday and what he realizes with mortification now is that the man is bulky, the now revealed arms muscular and golden as if the sun itself pressed a mayhem of kisses to his skin. Hoseok gulps.
He should’ve expected it, but when the man plops down onto the very same armchair, one covered with red dots and tiny butterflies, Hoseok recognizes the same drowsiness that so often claws at his own body reluctantly. After he made sure the man fell asleep, he grabs his book and tries to make as little noise as possible as he flips the pages.
When Jungkook wakes up at 8am, he sees an already cold mug of lemon tea standing on the table in front of him. He drinks it all, but when he peeks behind the counter, there’s no one there. As the day before, he places three thousand won on the table and leaves.
Upon hearing the door closing, Hoseok emerges from the storage room. He’s met with no one other than the flowers staring at him judgmentally, as if he had missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
When Hoseok pauses in the middle of the area scattered with tables and sees the three thousand won, he thinks they might be right.
4
The next time Hoseok sees the man he claims is nothing more than a regular customer in his head, he isn’t surprised. Hoseok feels happy - proud, almost - knowing that for some reason, the man found comfort in his flower cafe, in the flowers fastened to the walls and the pieces of furniture that shouldn’t work together, but somehow they do. Or maybe it’s just Hoseok’s opinion.
The man strides toward the same table as always and falls asleep as soon as he sits down. Based on how his breathing slows down significantly, Hoseok realizes that he must be even more tired than the days prior.
Despite vaguely hearing the man move, Hoseok doesn’t draw his eyes away from the book. This time it’s a new romance novel since he managed to finish the other one yesterday, the last scene so heartbreaking it made his eyes brim with tears he wasn’t able to hide from Yoongi after coming back home.
That’s probably why he winces at the sound of someone’s voice.
“Thank you for the tea,” the man says. Hoseok immediately fixates on the other’s face, but before he gets a chance to really take in the man’s features, he’s already turned away, leaving behind only the echo of his voice, deep and warm like the waves crashing against the shore and the sun glimmering upon the ripples, reverberating underneath Hoseok’s skull.
Before he knows it, he’s alone again.
5
Some nights later, Hoseok, once again finds himself sitting behind the counter, while the man with the cutest nose he’s ever seen is yet again settled on the dotted armchair Hoseok thinks practically belongs to the guy by now. This time, though, try as he might, he cannot focus on his book. For once, he had decided to pick a fantasy novel at the bookstore. On his way home he couldn’t hide the excitement arching his eyes ever so slightly, his lips following suit with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t understand why despite all of that no words seem to break through his skull. They’re all blurry and hollow, as if there was no substance behind the ink on the pages.
Hoseok groans quietly, now the fact that someone’s sleeping in the space they both share always in the back of his head. Putting the book aside, he locks his eyes with the ceiling, but there’s not much more to it than a white square and a lamp fastened in the middle. Then, he shifts his gaze towards the sleeping man and for whatever reason, he finds that he cannot take his eyes off him once he finally has an opportunity to study the his face. He wills himself not to think about how big of a creep he’s probably being right now, the kind of thought that creeps up on you right before falling asleep.
The man’s face is tilted just perfectly for Hoseok to make out his features that were previously covered by his chin-length hair. What he notices first is the slightly disproportionately large nose, wonderfully round and thick on the bridge. Hoseok thinks he might be seeing a scar marking one of his cheeks, but it could be the li-
“You’re staring,” the man’s lips move all of a sudden.
Hoseok jerks in his seat, hand mechanically grabbing the book as if feigning nonchalance, albeit successfully. “Oh, sorry! I’ll- I’ll stop.”
He buries his face behind the book.
“It’s okay,” the mans says, prodding Hoseok to peek at him from behind the pages. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
Hoseok pacifies the unsettling feeling clustering in the pit of his stomach, and lets the book fall onto the counter. Instead, he coerces himself into meeting the other’s eyes. Hoseok’s breath hitches inside his throat upon seeing how beautifully big they are. The man’s mouth is bent into a lopsided smile and thatis alone encourages Hoseok to ask what’s been on his mind for the longest time.
“Why?” the man throws him a scrutinizing look. “I mean… You never had problems with that before, right?”
The other hesitates for a second, presses his lips into a thin line before he finally speaks up. “Just a lot of thoughts that won’t leave my head.”
“Should I make some tea? “Hoseok lights up at that, happy to know that there’s at least something he can busy his hands with. “It’ll calm you down.”
“Can you make the lemon one you brewed for me last time?”
“You liked it?” Hoseok asks over his shoulder, loud enough to outshout the boiling kettle.
“Yeah, it was good,” the man replies with a brief smile on his face that Hoseok catches just in time before it disappears. “The smell of herbs always helps me relax. I think that’s why I come here so often.”
Hoseok makes it to the table, sets one mug of lemon tea in front of the man and one opposite to the armchair he plops down onto. He’s looks up and notices that he’s being offered a bashful smile, and something about the way the other’s eyes are being framed by a constellation of laughter lines says more about the man’s personality than any words ever could. Hoseok’s heart freezes for a second too short to notice, but too long to disregard completely.
He shakes his head inconspicuously. He’s probably just being stupid again.
“I’m Jung Hoseok, the owner of this place,” he says, taking a sip from the mug which results in him burning his tongue. Ignoring the pain, he presses forward, asking, “And you are?”
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook. Hoseok thinks the name really fits the man in front of him.
“You’re our only regular customer so far, Jeon Jungkook. Thank you for visiting this place so often,” Hoseok bows his head slightly. He’s surprised to hear Jungkook laugh in response.
“Pleasure is all mine,” the other says, drinking from the white mug with a rainbow painted on the front. “I live in this building and my roommate studies for his university entrance exam most of the time. You’re doing me a great favour being open 24/7. At least I don’t have to sleep in the park,” he snickers.
“That’s really kind of you.”
“I can’t sleep most of the time anyway, so it only seems fair to leave,” Jungkook shrugs.
Once the last word echoes in the space between them, silence takes it upon itself to embrace them, its fingertips gently grazing over the vowels lingering on their tongues.
It’s a little awkward. Although Hoseok doesn’t enjoy socializing all that much, the wordless veil that falls upon them doesn’t feel right. He rummages in the deepest of his mind in a search for something he could say. Contrary to him, based on Jungkook’s expression, the man looks unbothered, wordlessly sipping on his tea, hums of appreciation escaping his lips from time to time.
“So,” Hoseok begins, a broad smile on his face, happy that he came up with a perfect way to stir the conversation. “from your experience, are the armchairs comfortable enough?”
Jungkook laughs and Hoseok’s about to combust, because he doesn’t just laugh, he fucking giggles , a sweet, bubbly thing. “More than enough.”
“I should let you sleep then,” Hoseok hums in response.
“No, you don’t have to,” Jungkook mumbles, but his eyes are clouded with a sleepiness Hoseok knows well enough to recognize right away. He shoots Jungkook a genuine smile, his eyes morphing into two arcs.
“I wanted to read anyway,” he points a thumb at the counter, his book still in the same place he left it at. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods, and covers his eyes with his hand, rubbing them with force as though wiping off the grogginess. Hoseok’s all too familiar with this gesture as well. When he comes to his feet, already having turned around, he lets a sheepish smile curve his lips.
On his way to the counter, he hears Jungkook adjust his position, head resting on the wall just like all those times before. Hoseok’s far too consumed by the book in his hands to be sure if he only imagines hearing the quiet “Goodnight” coming from across the room.
He decides to believe he does.
6
Two weeks have already passed when Hoseok decides to leave his new book in his room when leaving for his shift. He’s been carrying it with himself all the time, but with Jungkook spending most of the nights at the coffee shop he’s found that he doesn’t really end up with much spare time.
Around one week after they started talking during the lonesome nights both of them were used to, Jungkook gives up on sleeping and Hoseok can’t say he minds. Actually, it’s the opposite. His shifts could last several forevers or what felt like barely an hour, but Hoseok discovered that with a book in hand and words filling up the silence he was submerged into, time could be bent. And so he twisted and turned it to his liking, minutes and second dispersing as he sucked in the ink from the pages. He never thought that having someone with him could have the same effect until Jungkook appeared with his own watch making the time freeze and sprint all at once.
On the nights Jungkook didn’t come, Hoseok felt the contrast of empty words that were able to fill him up before the most, seeing the discrepancy between gentle laughter and flat letters printed on the remains of dead trees. Having Jungkook inside his coffee shop made all the flowers on the walls brighter, alive .
That’s how he finds himself behind the counter, again, two mugs already prepared to pour the drinks into. Not having anything to read, he keeps counting the flowers on the walls, but for some reason, he always miscalculates at some point, forcing him to start all over.
55, 56, 57…
The chime of the bell above the door resounds within the walls, and Hoseok is about to complain when he realizes he works at a coffee shop. Having some clients during the night shifts too wouldn’t be that bad. At all actually.
Hoseok blushes slightly, shaking his head. He smiles immediately, making out the same wide eyes he grew used to.
Tonight Jungkook is wearing another hoodie, a grey one, and his dark hair is tied into a bunch on the top of his head, some loose strands brushing his neck each time he moves.
“Hello, Jungkook,” Hoseok greets him with a wave of his hand.
“Good evening, Hoseok hyung!”
“Oh,” Hoseok says in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook supplies immediately after he settles on the same armchair. “Should I not call you hyung?”
“No, no,” Hoseok shakes his head, cheeks flashing red anew. “Just caught me off guard. You’re good.”
Jungkook nods, fetches his phone from a pocket of his hoodie and starts scrolling. Hoseok makes his way towards the coffee machines. “Give me a second, I’ll bring us some tea.”
“The lemon one?” Hoseok doesn’t see the boyish smile Jungkook offers him that bounces off his back .
“Yes, the lemon one, please.”
While Hoseok fiddles with the buttons on the coffee machine, the tea for Jungkook already prepared in the rainbow mug, the steam coiling in the air above, he registers mellow music permeating the room. He shoots Jungkook a questioning look over his shoulder. The man is playing with a portable speaker, tossing it lightly upwards just to catch it a second later.
Having poured the coffee into a red mug with baby blue stripes, he grabs both of the utensils and takes it to the table. Like many times before, he sets the rainbow one in front of Jungkook. The man reacts with a toothy grin, as he nods appreciatively.
“You brought a speaker,” Hoseok comments, sitting down himself.
“I’m not that tired tonight, so I thought listening to music could be a nice way to kill some time,” Jungkook explains. He wraps his hands around the mug and breathes in the sweet smell that prompts him to close his eyes, just reveling in the fragrance. Hoseok doesn’t notice when he starts smiling, too. “You don’t mind, right?”
“No, of course. It’s okay.”
“Thank you, hyung,” Hoseok doesn’t quite understand why Jungkook is thanking him for something soas trivial, but once his eyes open and a lopsided smile appears on his face, Hoseok thinks that maybe he doesn’t mind being at the receiving end of Jungkook’s gratefulness. “You’re drinking coffee?”
“Mhm, ‘m so tired,” Hoseok plants his head on his arms and stays like that for a while.
“If you want, you can nap,” Jungkook suggests, taking a big sip from his mug. Hoseok tilts his head just enough to examine Jungkook’s expression, trying to ensure he’s being serious. Seeing that he is, Hoseok chuckles into the sleeve of his hoodie. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. What do you want to listen to?”
“Linkin Park,” Jungkook’s eyes light up at that, hands reach for his phone almost mechanically, and Hoseok watches each twitch on his face, trying to engrave it onto his memo-
Wait a second. Why is he even trying to do it?
He blinks multiple times in reverie.
“Who?” he asks instead in an attempt to make the weird clump inside his throat waver at least a little, to the point of being able to swallow again.
Jungkook’s eyes widen, the man utterly mortified.
“Hoseok hyung, you can’t be serious,” he says, but Hoseok stares at him blankly, his face signaling that he’s very much serious. “How don’t you know who the best band in music history is?”
“Uhm…”
“That’s unacceptable,” Jungkook cuts him off. “Let me show you some of my favourite songs.”
It’s not like Hoseok doesn’t enjoy listening to music, cause he does… Well, sometimes. He’s just too busy most of the time to even sit down and get lost within the cacophony of sounds that make up for every melody. The excitement oozing off Jungkook’s eyes prods him to keep it to himself. “Alright, I’m all ears.”
Jungkook taps on the screen of his phone and a second later an aggressive melody encases the air around them, the guitars and drums prominent from the very beginning. Hoseok furrows his brows, but doesn’t speak up. Only when he props himself up from the table and leans against the chair, does the song dies down, the last screams subsiding in the bitterness of the coffee and sweetness of Jungkook’s tea.
“And? How do you like it?”
“Well,” Hoseok rubs his neck, thinking of a way to not break Jungkook’s heart. “It was a lot of screaming.”
“But what about the rest?” Jungkook nods, earnestness dripping off his face. How is Hoseok’s heart supposed to survive it?
“Didn’t the rest involve screaming too?”
The light that was initially ignited in Jungkook’s eyes abates. Hoseok can’t explain it, but just the mere sight sends an uncomfortable prickling sensation down his spine, the bad kind of warmth settling in his stomach. He shakes his head just enough for the thoughts to let go of the threads they tangled underneath his skull, knows that even though he might not be that close to Jungkook, he cannot stand seeing him like this, his face resembling a white canvas untouched by any brush of emotion.
“But the chorus was nice!”
“Really?” Jungkook’s brows are knitted into a frown.
“Mhm, really catchy!” Hoseok knows he sounds too chirpy, too enthusiastic, but Jungkook either doesn’t notice or finds another reason to settle with the reaction.
Instead, he smiles briefly and shifts his gaze from Hoseok’s face to the screen of his phone.
“Have you heard IU’s new song?” he asks mindlessly.
“I don’t think so.”
They stay like that for the rest of the night, Jungkook allowing Hoseok to listen to his mind within the lyrics of each song, revealing himself completely.
Hoseok’s comprehension of the English language may not be good enough to distinguish each word, but his heart understands more than enough.
7
Not all days are like that. Sometimes Jungkook comes with his hood pulled over his head and eyes nearly closed, a certain weight anchoring him to the ground, his chest heaving heavily as if underwater. Hoseok got to know the bright side of Jungkook, his low voice breaking upon a laugh he cannot control or eyes, big as they are already, widening with fervor, the man never growing silent. On these days it's as if the darkness behind the windows was illuminated by the sun of Jungkook's presence, even the flowers piling in every free corner of the cafe basking in the rays of happiness the man exuded. Hoseok loved to see him like that. Happy. Carefree.
Then the other days came and, as much as Hoseok hated them at first, he learned to appreciate them, too. Whenever Jungkook entered the coffee shop with a sadness looming out of his face, every inch of his body submerged into this odd sense of exhaustion, Hoseok tried to cheer him up at first. He came up with dozens of different ways that could elicit a smile on Jungkook's face, the one he was so fond of, with his teeth bared and eyes crinkled as if hidden underneath the curves and crevices on his face. Then however, he realized that every sun leaves for the night, enabling the moon to shine upon earth in a way so different, but beautiful all the same.
And so, Hoseok catches every smile that drips from Jungkook's lips, he revels in each silence that ensues right after, and embraces it knowing that it's just another part of Jungkook, a part he refuses to disregard or condemn.
All humans have their own moons rising at any given point. What right does Hoseok have to expect Jungkook to be an exception?
8
One month has already passed since Jungkook decided to enter Hoseok's flower cafe for the first time. Hoseok doesn't think about it too much, he's too afraid where his thoughts would lead him if he'd allow them to trail freely without supervision, but what he knows for sure is he sees Jungkook at least four times every week. Surprisingly, none of them gets tired of the other, there always being something to discuss or joke about. Sometimes all they need is the silent presence of the other's eyes while they sip on their teas without a word escaping their lips, the quiet penetrating the space between them without being awkward at all, only peaceful.
Hoseok wakes up one day in a really good mood. He doesn't know why (or maybe he does, but doesn't want to admit it), but the moment he opens his eyes, he can't fight the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He fetches his phone from the left side of the bed and checks the time, a little blinded by the brightness of the screen. 6pm. Maybe Yoongi is still home then.
With a low groan, he collects the clothes scattered all over the room and throws them into a laundry basket, one sock missing the target and falling leisurely to the ground. Hoseok stares at it in betrayal for a second, but ultimately decides to simply leave his bedroom. He can take care of it later.
Since it's the middle of October, the sky peeking from behind the windows is grey with the night grazing upon its blue. The apartment is quiet, no lights turned on which lets Hoseok assume Yoongi left for work or to another date with the guy he keeps talking about, but whose name Hoseok has never managed to remember. Maybe today is the day, he ponders.
He ambles towards the living room, plops down onto the couch with way too many cushions if you'd ask him, and turns on the TV, eyes leveled on the screen with no intention to actually process what he's seeing. He just wants to wind down for the time being, knowing that in only four hours he'll have to go down to the cafe and wait for the nonexistent customers until the break of dawn. He sighs. When you put it like that, it really does sound depressing. Luckily, there's one customer Hoseok can count on. He chases away the piercing thought that maybe he's also the only one he cares about anyway. It's a dangerous territory Hoseok doesn't plan to venture into. Ever.
It's then that the entrance door opens and the light from the staircase seeps onto the floor, casting yellow shapes in result. Hoseok turns towards the direction the sound comes from, and is faced with Yoongi's stooped silhouette, his almond-shaped eyes fixated on Hoseok.
"You back already?"
Yoongi hums in response, taking off his coat. Hoseok's about to say something when Yoongi starts rushing from one room to the other, Hoseok always seeing him holding something else in his hands. Sometimes it's a t-shirt and the other time it's an ipod Hoseok forgot he borrowed from Yoongi and never gave back. How the hell did he find it?
"Is everything okay?" Hoseok calls, air carrying his words to all the empty spaces within their three-rooms apartment.
"Get ready, Seok-ah!" is all he gets in response. Hoseok tilts his head, his mind under an onslaught of confusion.
"For what?" He props himself up, turns off the TV. Yoongi appears in the living room just then, not wearing the white t-shirt anymore that he arrived in, sporting a black turtle neck instead.
"For a party, obviously," Yoongi explains, patting the pockets of his skinny jeans. "Fuck, I forgot the keys."
"Am I missing something, hyung?" Hoseok's lost.
"We're going out to drink!" Yoongi's voices comes from his bedroom.
"But I have work! My shift starts in three hours."
"Not anymore," Yoongi shrugs, walking past Hoseok and slumping into the couch, an appreciative sigh brushing his lips. He glances at Hoseok, his face still in a permanent state of puzzlement, and he chortles. "I already talked to Seokjin. He's hungover and since there are no customers anyway, he might as well sleep behind the counter. At least he'll get paid for doing nothing."
"You know I’m the one who pays him , right?" Hoseok chuckles.
"Yeah," Yoongi says towards the ceiling, not sparing Hoseok a glance. "Now get ready. You need to live a little, Seok-ah. I know you're not a social butterfly by any means, but spending all of your days with no one but flowers won't do you any good."
Hoseok's lips move almost mechanically at that, wanting to protest, Jungkook's smiling face resurfacing in the back of his mind, head suddenly full of nothing but all of Jungkook’s various facial expressions. He feels his cheeks warm up with red, but luckily, the dim light of the evening sky doesn't grant Yoongi insight good enough to make out the colors of Hoseok's reddening skin.
"I guess... I guess you're right," Hoseok says instead, getting up effortlessly.
"You have ten minutes," Yoongi calls from the sofa. Hoseok laments under his breath, but hurries to his room all the same.
Only for a second does he allow the disappointment to wash over him, his heart and mind longing for one more night with Jungkook, one more bunny-like smile, one more silence to engulf them.
Maybe it's a little bit more than a second, but that's one more thought Hoseok puts aside, afraid of what he'd discover if he paid it any more attention.
9
The next time Hoseok meets Jungkook is two nights later. Having expected to spend the night in Jungkook's company, Hoseok alternates between scrolling down his feed on Twitter and texting Yoongi who he knows won't respond anyway, being on a date again .
The party they went to wasn't all that great. He was surrounded by strangers and cheap alcohol. Every single time he left the sofa he, Yoongi and Namjoon have been occupying someone bumped into him, spilling the content of their drinks on his favourite shirt, the one with wild shapes in various colors made of silky fabric that brushed his skin with each movement ever so pleasantly. They made it back home around 5am. After Hoseok helped inebriated Yoongi get out of his clothes and into bed, he realized he smelled like cheap booze. It reminded him of why he hated people so much.
Maybe not all humans. He pretends he doesn't think about Jungkook when the thought settles inside his head. Just humans in general. People. Yes, exactly.
He sighs out of boredom and that's when the bell chimes, luring his eyes to glide over to Jungkook's black mop of hair, disheveled and fluffy as if he just went out of the shower. He smiles at him, Jungkook reciprocating the gesture and just by the way his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm Hoseok realizes it's one of the good days.
He's ready to busk in Jungkook's proximity.
It's easy to fall into their usual routine. Jungkook plops down onto the armchair and Hoseok makes them some tea, pours it into the same mugs he chose for them a while ago. Was it a month or a week? For some reason, it's hard to distinguish the measures of time when Jungkook's a part of the equation. It's as if he alone was able to manipulate the hands of the clock, making them slow down or even freeze whenever his lips just as much as bend into a smile, a smile Hoseok is never ready to perceive.
Hoseok skilfully collects the mugs and sets them on the table, the spots where their warmth touches the surface slightly darker. Maybe it's been a month after all.
"Thanks, hyung," Jungkook mumbles, his hands bracketing the mug. Hoseok smiles at him in response.
They sit wordlessly for a while. What appeared so awkward back then, became more than familiar as time passed. Now, Hoseok cherishes the moments of silence just as much as the times when Jungkook's voice recompenses for the lack of other customers.
"Jungkook-ah," Hoseok starts sheepishly. His voice draws Jungkook's attention, his eyes examine Hoseok's features with his nose wrinkled. "What is it that you do? Other than sleeping here that is."
"You mean my job?" Jungkook laughs, a stray strand of hair cascading upon his eye. "I'm a firefighter."
If Hoseok had been holding something right now, he would have let it fall in surprise.
"Are you serious?"
Jungkook nods, suddenly timid.
"You haven't told hyung you're saving lives! Isn't it the first thing you say to a stranger to impress them?" Realizing what he just said, Hoseok freezes for a moment too long to go unnoticed. "I don't mean that you want to impress me. Oh my god, I just-"
"Hyung," Jungkook cuts him off with a cherubic grin plastered onto his face. "It's okay."
"Isn't it dangerous?" Hoseok pursing his lips with worry. "You're being careful, right?"
If Hoseok didn't know any better, he would think Jungkook is blushing, but that's not it, right? It's just the game of lights. Yeah, that's it.
"Yes, hyung, I promise. I'm good at what I do," Jungkook says, but it feels different, the giddiness that Jungkook emanated a second before now gone. His voice sound hollow, as if it broke too many times and someone taped it back together hoping that emotion won't slip through the cracks.
Hoseok wants to ask, the urge to know more almost unbearably present in his head. Just one glance at the man in front of hims keeps his mouth shut. Today an eclipse graces the sky of Jungkook's heart and Hoseok might feel a little bit special that he found himself in the right place at the right time to witness it.
"You weren't here last night," Jungkook mumbles instead. Hoseok doesn't notice the way he bites at his bottom lip or how Jungkook fights the urge to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie just to keep his fingers from twitching wrapped around the mug.
Hoseok nods. "Yeah, I went to a party."
"Did you have fun?" Jungkook cocks his head at the words.
"Kind of. Yoongi hyung got really drunk and me and our other friend had to take care of him the whole night," Hoseok explains, gesticulating lively. Jungkook offers him a smile too sweet to be considered a fitting reaction to what he just said, but then again - Hoseok's never been the best at noticing thatis kind of stuff. "But yes, it was fun."
"Is Yoongi okay?"
"Just huangover. He'll live."
Jungkook licks his lips, as his fingers circle around the edge of the mug, a peculiar sense of anxiety etched into his features. He masks it well enough for Hoseok not to register any of it.
"It was weird... Sitting here without you," Jungkook says, Hoseok narrowing his eyes immediately at the words. After he realizes Jungkook's completely serious, his lips morph into his signature heart-shaped smile.
"Do you mean quieter?" Hoseok expects Jungkook to smile, laugh, maybe even cackle, but none of it happens. His expression is still somber, not necessarily sad, but it's far from looking happy. "I bet you could at least get some sleep without me bothering you all the time."
Jungkook rolls his eyes, disgruntled, and Hoseok's confused for a second. The feeling only disperses when the other downs his tea with an obnoxious sigh, Hoseok almost sensing the warmth spreading all over his stomach, limbs heavy as if made of cotton.
Then, Jungkook rests his chin in his palm and looks at Hoseok scrutinizingly.
"I actually like it more when you’re here."
Hoseok blinks too many times for it to come off as natural, eyes widening in surprise. He examines Jungkook's face in a search of a punchline that would reveal to him that it was nothing but a joke. He finds no signs of it. He gulps.
"Aish, what has gotten into you," he laughs, his fingers tapping on the surface of the table nervously. He glances at Jungkook just once to see something resembling disappointment in the way his shoulders sag under a translucent weight Hoseok wants to help him carry. Maybe it is his chance to do so. "I like having you here, too."
"Cause I pay for the tea?" Jungkook retorts with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Hoseok bursts out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. He looks at Jungkook, really looks at him. That's when he knows he'll lie.
"Exactly. That's the only reason."
They both laugh for some more time, uttered untruths and all the things they wish they could say swirling in the air around them, both too unsure if catching them would be worth it.
But maybe they already know it.
10
"Look what I have here," Hoseok calls from behind the counter, as he shakes in the air with the book for Jungkook to see.
"Another romance story?" Jungkook groans, leaning back into his armchair. His hands rest within the pocket inside his red hoodie, as he throws Hoseok a pointed look, feigning annoyance.
"Not this time."
Once Hoseok makes it to the table, he plants the book in front of Jungkook, flipping the pages too quickly for the younger to decipher its contents.
"I still have no idea what it is, hyung," he whines with a pout on his face and Hoseok coos inwardly.
"What's your zodiac sign?" He smiles patiently, sliding the book closer to himself. Jungkook watches him thoughtfully, as he browses through the pages.
"Virgo."
After Hoseok finds the right page, he crows with joy, chest jutted out pridefully. He clears his throat, his lips opening, ready to let the words slip through, but the longer his eyes scan the inked lines displayed on the pages, the clearer the chagrin casting shadows upon his face gets.
"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, suddenly worried.
"Nothing," Hoseok gulps, closing the book too energetically, the forced smile on his face almost crestfallen.
"What did it say?"
"Uhm... Nothing, Jungkook-ah. Should we listen to some music instead?"
Jungkook blinks, tilting his head while Hoseok rushes to scroll up his playlist in the hopes of distracting the other from the book now placed by the wall, the golden title too conspicuous for Hoseok’s liking. “You like IU, right?”
Jungkook nods. When the mellow melody finally resounds within the room, Jungkook glances at the cover of the book. Zodiac Signs Compatibility. He smiles.
11
Hoseok’s in the kitchen when he sees Yoongi enter the room with a glass of water in his hand. Hoseok gnaws at his bottom lip, as his eyes follow the lines of the book he took it upon himself to finish by the end of this week. It's funny how their night meetings with Jungkook changed his entire reading pace. If he had still fed his inner bookworm during his shifts, he probably would have already finished weeks ago. Then again, he can't find it in himself to regret anything, not when it entails Jungkook.
Hoseok's leaned over the kitchen island in the middle with his back to the sink, and because the space between the counters is too small for Yoongi to be able to walk past him and still fit, he resorts to speech. "Hob-ah," he sighs, all too well aware of his friend's habits. "Can you kindly move your ass, please?"
Hoseok winces, surprised at the sudden voice breaking the tranquility of one more peaceful evening. He blinks at Yoongi who stands so close to him that it's a miracle their arms aren't brushing just yet.
"I didn't even notice when you came back home," he wonders out loud and Yoongi laughs dryly, as he waltzes past his hunched frame, Hoseok pressing himself closer to the counter.
"You tend to oversee a lot of things, Hob-ah," Yoongi puts the empty glass into the sink. Hoseok closes his book, feeling obligated to turn around. "But maybe that's a part of your charm."
Yoongi leans against the fridge with his legs crossed.
"What time is it?" Hoseok asks instead.
"Almost seven. Why?"
"Work," just saying the word bends Hoseok's lips into a nostalgic smile, his eyes following suit. Yoongi rolls his eyes.
"Since when do you even enjoy working?"
Hoseok recoils as if punched, feigning offence, brings his hand to his chest and throws Yoongi a betrayed look. "How do you dare?"
Yoongi shakes his head, amused. "You have no idea how many times did I have to hold myself back from strangling you just because you never stopped whining about how boring it is."
Hoseok pouts. "I didn't whine," he retorts, but falters immediately under Yoongi's pointed look. "Well, maybe a little."
"Did Seokjin hyung's promotion on social media actually work?"
"No, not really. There are still no customers," Hoseok scratches the rim of the book, perfectly aware that he's damaging it, but he doesn't care. He always had to busy his hands with something when delving into his own head. Then, his eyes widen at the realization. "Actually, there is one. One customer."
"Oh, really?"
"Mhm," Hoseok nods, suddenly not all that eager to talk.
"Why are you being so weird about this," Yoongi huffs, crossing his arm on his chest. "Unless-"
The same second epiphany dawns on Yoongi, Hoseok chokes out an excuse and lurches towards the door. Yoongi's faster. He moves with a cat-like grace, bars Hoseok's escape route.
"Hob-ah," comes out softer than Hoseok anticipated. "Do you happened to have a crush on one of your customers?"
Hoseok averts his eyes, staring at anything that isn't Yoongi while feeling his cheeks turn into red apples. "No."
But then Yoongi surveys his expression once more and Hoseok knows he won't be able to lie to his best friend. "Maybe? I don't know."
"It's more of a 'yes' than a 'no'," Yoongi tilts his head, pressing his thin lips into an even thinner line, something he tends to do when lost in thought. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Hoseok chuckles. "Not really. You're not the most experienced person when it comes to love... stuff."
"Love stuff," Yoongi deadpans. "From what I hear, you're an expert."
"Hyung," Hoseok whines. He lowers his head in defeat. "That's not what I-"
"For your information," Yoongi laughs, as he plants his hand on Hoseok's shoulder. "I've been seeing someone. And it's good. Really good."
In no time, Hoseok racks his head, eyes searching for Yoongi's. "Really?"
Yoongi nods.
It's enough to make Hoseok forget about whatever they were talking about before. All he perceives is the tingling giddiness bubbling in the pit of his stomach upon hearing the news. He doesn't even know when exactly his body decides to act on its own and lunge itself onto Yoongi, arms wrapping him in a tight embrace. "I'm so happy for you, Yoongi hyung!"
Hoseok's arms squeeze Yoongi almost painfully so, rocks them both left and right as if drifting in the sea.
"Yeah, yeah," Yoongi grumbles, but there's a smile on his face. "Now let me go."
Hoseok obliges. "Who is it?"
Yoongi avoids his gaze, suddenly shy. Hoseok coos inside his head, but when Yoongi shoots him a deadly stare, he realizes he might have let the sound escape his lips regardless.
"It's our neighbor actually."
Hoseok almost jumps in excitement. "No way! Do I know him?"
Yoongi chuckles at that. "Hob-ah, you spend the entire day in bed and only leave in the evening. I doubt you know who lives in the apartment opposite to ours, not to mention five floors above."
"Good point."
"But he's good to you?" Hoseok's eyes scan Yoongi's entire body as if searching for any signs that it may not be the case.
"He's... He's the best," Hoseok freezes in spot when a light blush taints Yoongi's cheeks. Something in his eyes changes, too. It's still Yoongi, the person Hoseok knows best and vice versa, but at the same time he feels like a completely different person. It reminds Hoseok of of the sea, the moment the sun pierces through the horizon bleeding into the evening sky just before disappearing completely, only that this time Yoongi's eyes are the canvas for the yellows and oranges invading the blank space.
Love suits him.
"I'm glad, hyung," Hoseok smiles. "Don't worry about the crush. It's probably nothing."
Yoongi looks at him again, yellow still dancing amid the brown inside his eyes. "You sure?"
"It's not like it would go anywhere," Hoseok shrugs.
Yoongi observes Hoseok collecting his book and leaving the kitchen, bidding him a good night beforehand.
That evening, Yoongi saw something in Hoseok's eyes too.
He saw green.