Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jeongguk startles awake from his napping and something is wrong.

Holy shit, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.

Taehyung. Is it Taehyung? Oh, fuck, please don’t be Taehyung, Taehyung can’t be—Tae—Jeongguk rolls over and checks on Taehyung and—he’s fine; he’s right there. Check again. Taehyung is there. He’s asleep. He’s fine.

There’s noise upstairs. The thud of footsteps across the hardwoods, the clink of chopsticks against kitchenware. The melody of Jimin’s laughter, and Seokjin’s cute, caustic snort. The basement door must be open. There’s light shining in down the stairs, visible through the gauzy curtains of the semi-permanent fort Jeongguk and Taehyung had built around the bed a couple weeks ago.

Jeongguk closes his eyes, and then he opens them and checks, and there’s light. Jeongguk checks, and Taehyung is fine. Taehyung is there. He’s asleep. He’s fine.

Jeongguk is maybe going to throw up. He’s maybe going to pass out. He feels maybe drunk, or maybe high. He’s maybe having a panic attack.

“Taehyung.” Too quiet.

“Taehyung.” First syllable strong but tapering off. Taehyung is dozing. He’s right there. He’s fine.

Something’s wrong. Holy shit something’s wrong something’s wrong.

“Please,” Jeongguk begs, nudging at Taehyung’s shoulder.

Taehyung’s eyelids flick up and down a couple times, and Jeongguk gasps again, “Taehyung”, and Taehyung comes immediately awake.

“Jeongguk, oh,” he says, eyes darting to search out whatever’s wrong. Taehyung knows something’s wrong. Taehyung always knows. “Jeongguk, close your eyes,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk closes his eyes.

“Jeongguk, take a breath,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk takes a breath.

“Jeongguk, squeeze my hand as tight as you can while I grab the water off the nightstand.”

Jeongguk squeezes Taehyung’s hand as tight as he can while Taehyung grabs the water off the nightstand.

“Jeongguk, sit up with me.”

Jeongguk sits up with Taehyung.

“Jeongguk, put your head on my shoulder and take sips of this. Carefully.”

Jeongguk puts his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and takes sips of it. Carefully.

“Jeongguk, did you hear Namjoon’s story about the starfish today? Or—he called it a parable, because he says words like that and we all have to live with it because, like, we love him and he’s our Namjoonie, and anyways it was this thing about a guy on the beach collecting starfish? Only, like, not collecting them, because he was throwing them back. And there were, like, a hundred-thousand starfish on the beach—well, okay, obviously not really that many but—anyways, um, you’re still not breathing right, so I’ll keep going.

“Um, this other guy came up to the starfish guy and said throwing them back was silly because there were, like, so many starfish and what was even the point when it doesn’t make any difference? And the first guy said, holding a starfish, ‘It makes a difference to this one.’ And Namjoon thinks that’s a really cliché story, but also he says now he can’t get it out of his head because, like, it’s hard to argue with that kind of logic, I guess. And now I’m thinking about it too! And I think you and I talked about this earlier but I’m really just trying to help you calm down now so do you think it’s working? Fuck, Jeonggukkie, you seem really out of it. Is it working? Please do the blinking thing so I know?”

Jeongguk blinks once. Taehyung bites his lip and nods. “Okay. You want me to get more water?”

Jeongguk hesitates, and then he blinks twice.

“You want to lie back down,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk blinks once, and Taehyung takes all of Jeongguk’s weight to help him fall back against the pillows. As soon as they’re prone again, Jeongguk scoots back an inch, overwhelmed by the scratch of the sheets on his skin and his own hair against his neck and Taehyung’s too-warm fingers on his forehead. He scoots back towards the wall and wraps his arms around himself and curls into a ball on his side. Taehyung slides away a little, too, his eyelashes fluttering like he’s thinking.

“Oh, maybe you don’t want touch. I’m sorry. Can I touch you?”

Two blinks. Taehyung doesn’t touch.

“You want me to get someone else?”

Jeongguk feels all the blood rush to his head, and the room goes all wonky and everything is the wrong shape. Jeongguk blinks and blinks and blinks.

“Sorry, sorry, hey, don’t worry. I won’t get anyone else. Promise.” Taehyung presses a hand to his heart, and Jeongguk takes deep breaths until he can look around without feeling like he’s falling even though he’s lying down.

“Okay, do you want me to keep talking?” Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk blinks once.

Taehyung smiles. “Wait, do you want me to read to you? I can get Harry Potter or something.”

Jeongguk blinks once. Taehyung’s smile widens.

“Okay. Hold on. I gotta run grab it from upstairs. Is that okay?”

Jeongguk blinks once.

“Okay, hold tight. I’ll be back in four minutes and 37 seconds,” Taehyung swears, as serious as he ever has been about anything in his life, probably.

Jeongguk takes a breath and lets his eyes fall closed and wonders how long he’s going to be mute this time.

Hoseok looks up from the choreography video on his phone and something’s wrong.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.

It’s stupid because Hoseok is in the middle of the living room and there’s, like, no reason anything should be wrong but it is, all of it, out of nowhere. Tomorrow, whispers his head, and he pushes the thought away. Tries his best not to think about the future, because right now everything is fine, right? Right now is fine, and right now it’s right now, and right now it’s not the future, so the future doesn’t matter and doesn’t even exist and right now is fine.

Hoseok suffers through a full-body shudder, trying his best not to show how strung out he feels. He tries to ignore the sudden ache for physical contact because sure, everyone knows that Hoseok is really into having someone else’s skin against his as long as it’s not in a sexual way (usually), and it wouldn’t really be that big of a deal to ask Jimin for some cuddles because Jimin is right there and Hoseok needs him close, like, right now and Hoseok could just ask except—

Hoseok can’t ask; he can’t. He can’t. He can’t move down the couch and line himself against Jimin, can’t go to the table and press his hands against the back of Yoongi’s neck. Hoseok can’t do anything. He’s had a rough couple of days at work, and he has to go to a fucking therapist tomorrow, and he’s not going to ask for anything, and he’s not going to share because he can’t, because he is Very Bad at communicating his needs. Jung Hoseok knows that he is very good at dancing and he guesses he’s maybe an okay rapper when Namjoon or Yoongi wants him on one of their tracks, but Jung Hoseok is very bad at asking for what he wants.

Something’s wrong. Fuck, fuck, fuck something’s wrong something’s wrong. Hoseok thinks maybe he’s going to start screaming in the living room, like how Taehyung sometimes does at the end of a Bad Day. They’ve all seen Taehyung get like that a hundred times, probably, so it’s okay for Taehyung to scream because everyone knows he’s going to do it and they all love him but—but Hoseok doesn’t do things like that, because Hoseok doesn’t have Bad Days anymore. He gets upset and he Handles It and Namjoon is still the only one who really knows what kind of insecurity goes on in Hoseok’s head, who knows the way Hoseok gets when something is wrong. Nobody else deserves to have to deal with it. Hell, Namjoon doesn’t deserve to have to deal with it.

So it’s okay for Taehyung to scream in the living room and freak out while Jeongguk and Seokjin hold him down, while he tries to tear his hair out and wails his deep, bone-juddering cry of real anguish—that’s okay, because they all know and they love Taehyung, they love him so so so so much.

But no one loves Hoseok that much. And Hoseok doesn’t do that. Hoseok smiles and laughs and brings levity to things, and sometimes he’s a little bit quiet when he’s under the weather, but even then, he pulls it together within a few hours, back to happy because his mood swings really can be that intense. Sad and frozen one second, bouncing off the walls the next. Not bipolar—too sporadic for that, more up and down and up and down and up and up and up and up.

And no one loves Hoseok that much. Everyone loves Taehyung. Everyone loves Taehyung. No one loves Hoseok that much. So he can’t do that. Screaming. Can’t. No screaming. No expressing needs; they won’t be met. No saying what he wants; he’ll be ignored.

Scream. Scream, scream, screamscreamscream—

Start talking. Hoseok is pretty energetic all the time so talking is fine. Not screaming. Talking. That’s what he always used to do when he got Bad Days all the time, like a mind-purge to get out all the Bad Things that get stuck in his chest. Namjoon has heard—Namjoon knows how it is. Hoseok talks about anything and everything that’s not the Bad Things, because that’s the only thing he can do when he’s overflowing with it all.

“Did you know that when I was a kid, my mom wouldn’t let me watch Bambi because she didn’t want me to see the mom deer die?” Hoseok asks, completely out of nowhere. Jimin looks up from where he’s painting his nails black, hair falling in his eyes. He jerks his head off to the side to get the bangs away from his brow and keeps painting his nails, but he’s looking up at Hoseok every couple seconds, obviously willing to listen. Yoongi has headphones in and is doing something on his laptop with Namjoon; they’re probably messing with some different mixes for one of their songs or something. Seokjin is cooking. Jeongguk and Taehyung are downstairs napping.

“I think you told me that, yeah,” Jimin says after a few awkward seconds in which Hoseok is too busy cataloguing all the information he has about the current situation to keep talking. Jimin is sitting in the armchair in the corner, his posture relaxed so Hoseok can see the way his shirt hangs a little looser than it should—looser than the same shirt hung a few weeks ago, which is—worrisome. Kind of terrifying, actually, now that Hoseok is really looking, taking in the goosebumps on Jimin’s arms even though it’s June and it’s really not cold, the tremor that Jimin fights against as he paints his nails.

Hoseok swallows. Tries not to think about the therapist. Tries not to think about Jimin’s weight, or the last time he saw Jimin actually eat a full meal. It’s warm in the living room, almost too hot, actually, but Hoseok looks at Jimin and wishes he would come over and snuggle on the couch anyways.

But. Jimin is painting his nails. Can’t mess them up, not for something silly like Hoseok freaking out because he has to go to a therapist tomorrow. Yoongi went two days ago, the first of their bunch since Seokjin decided they should all talk to professionals. After Namjoon almost killed himself. Hoseok doesn’t know what he would do if Namjoon killed himself. Namjoon, baby, everyone loves Namjoon. Seokjin loves Namjoon more than Seokjin loves anything.

Jimin puts the cap on the nail polish and starts blowing on his nails. Hoseok chews his lip, restless and manic, and he almost starts laughing hysterically over nothing. He tries to remember what he was talking about.

“Yeah. I couldn’t see Bambi. She didn’t want me to see it and learn that moms could die. But I could see The Lion King because the dad died in it, and I guess she thought that was fine. Which is hilarious, really, because I never even knew my dad since he left because my mom was so, like, mentally out of it, and—she did a great job, like, the best job she could. But she just would not let me watch Bambi, and people totally teased me for it.”

Jimin listens, but he’s looking more and more concerned, like he knows something is happening that shouldn’t be happening. He doesn’t say anything when Hoseok pauses, and Hoseok realizes that there really isn’t a good response to any of what he’s said. He’s just narrating for the sake of narrating, no vital information expressed.

He has to go on. They’re going to be mad at him; Jiminie, precious amazing marshmallow Jiminie, is going to be mad because Hoseok is wasting his time and distracting him from the nail polish and—and Hoseok has to go on, has to explain why he’s even talking about this right now or his sparkly-springtime Jiminie will be mad, no no no—

“Anyways, I don’t know, I just think about that because, like, we have such a good shared base of knowledge and inside jokes and stuff in our group and, like, yeah, I don’t know, I guess it’s just weird because sometimes you guys do make references to stuff I wasn’t allowed to watch, like those cartoon parody videos on YouTube that are always about cartoons I wasn’t allowed to see because my mom was so worried they would teach me words like ‘stupid’ and ‘dumb’—she still gets mad at me if I say those when I go to see her, did you know that?”

“Oh. I didn’t know that, hyung,” Jimin says. He’s looking back and forth between Hoseok and Yoongi, tilting his head around like he’s trying to get Yoongi’s attention without Hoseok noticing, but Yoongi and Namjoon are completely wrapped up in whatever they’re doing.

Hoseok feels the tension in the room and aches-aches-aches with it. Then there are footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Hey, guys, where’s the first Harry Potter book? I need it so I can read it to Jeonggukkie,” Taehyung says as he leaps up to the first floor landing.

Jimin gives Hoseok a look and then shakes his head. “Sorry, Tae, I don’t have it. Maybe try Hobi-hyung’s room? Is it in there, babe?” Jimin says, getting up off the armchair and moving to sit a careful distance away from Hoseok on the couch, holding his still-wet fingernails in front of him, a reminder to keep away or risk messing them up, and Jiminie worked so hard. Hoseok can’t fuck it up like he fucks up everything else. The distance hurts, but Hoseok can endure it for Jiminie’s sake. Hoseok can’t ask for anything else anyways.

“I don’t know,” Hoseok says, wondering if Taehyung will give him a hug in exchange for the help. If Hoseok’s help is worth that sort of value, because Taehyung hugs are in high demand from everyone and it’s not like they’re in short supply or something—but still, Hoseok isn’t going to ask for one without offering something in return, because Hoseok does not get to have things for free like that. Especially not affection. “I can come help you check if you want.”

Hoseok climbs off the couch in this haze that he’s come to associate with Bad Days, or at least he used to when he used to get them often and Joonie would help him through. He hopes against hope that he’s not going to spiral into one of those. He hasn’t had one in front of everyone, and he thinks maybe they won’t judge him because they didn’t judge Yoongi (everyone loves Yoongi) and they always help Tae and Jeonggukkie (everyone loves Tae and Jeonggukkie) and they pretend not to notice for Seokjin-hyung (everyone loves Seokjin-hyung) and they built that fort for Namjoonie (everyone loves Namjoonie) and they don’t watch Jimin eat or try to force him when he refuses (everyone loves Jimin).

So maybe it would be okay, but Hoseok doesn’t want a Bad Day because he has to go to a therapist tomorrow and he needs to prove that he’s fine, that he’s not like his mother, that he doesn’t have schizophrenia like his mom who wouldn’t let him watch Bambi because the mom dies.

“Thanks!” Taehyung chirps, falling into step next to Hoseok as they head towards Hoseok’s old room. Hoseok thinks about Bad Days and wonders when the last one even was. He’s gotten so good at holding them back, repressing them. He hates the feelings of helplessness as he goes manic and has to talk, how the mania dies into apathy so low that Hoseok lies in his bed and stares at the wall and does nothing for maybe days at a time, calling out from work and thinking about how many sleeping pills he can take before he dies, and whether he’s trying to take them to sleep or if he really does just want it to end.

He hasn’t done that since he moved in here except that one time before Jimin and Taehyung and Jeongguk had moved in, when Yoongi and Seokjin were on a trip to Daegu, leaving Namjoon and Hoseok alone for a weekend. Except then Hoseok started having a Bad Day and he rambled off the story of how he learned his multiplication tables to Namjoon and Namjoon had realized something was up, and then Namjoon and Hoseok had lain on the couch for two days, and they even showered together because Hoseok couldn’t not have someone else touching him or risk going insane.

And now Hoseok has these two boyfriends whom he doesn’t deserve even a little, and what if they realize something is wrong and that he doesn’t want to go to the therapist and—and what will happen if Hoseok needs to have hands on him and they say no? Hands, please, skin-to-skin but not sexually please not sexually because Hoseok never has to have sex again for the rest of his life if he doesn’t want, right? But he can if he wants. But he doesn’t want to. But maybe?

“Hobi-hyung?” Taehyung asks as they enter Hoseok’s now mostly unoccupied bedroom; Hoseok and Jimin and Yoongi usually sleep in Yoongi’s room, and Namjoon is permanently moved into Seokjin’s room, which means Hoseok and Namjoon’s old room is now a repository for books and other random stuff that kind of just belongs to all seven of them.

They still all call it Hoseok’s room, though, and Hoseok tries not to think about why that designation makes his chest hurt, like he’s the group’s awkward seventh wheel.

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just that he’d moved out of that room after Namjoon had. That’s it. That’s it.

“Why are you guys reading this?” Hoseok says, finding the book crammed in with all of Namjoon’s ridiculous grad school texts. The Harry Potter books are the only books in Korean on the entire shelf.

Taehyung smiles. “Jeongguk got overwhelmed. He’s nonverbal right now, so I’m gonna read to him until he can talk again!”

Hoseok feels worry shoot through him, because Jeongguk always goes nonverbal on Bad Days, and if Jeongguk is having a Bad Day then Hoseok cannot be having a Bad Day also, because it would be so difficult on everyone if two of them were having Bad Days at the same time, obviously. Yoongi said something about that in the fort, right? Oh, he said they could have comorbid Bad Days. But Seokjin wasn’t really having a Bad Day that time. Seokjin just wanted them to go seek professional help, and Hoseok doesn’t want to because what if the therapist says he’s going to be like his mom? Hoseok doesn’t want to be a burden. Hoseok doesn’t need anything. He’s fine. He’s fine.

Taehyung places a gentle hand on Hoseok’s shoulder and it feels like heaven, and Taehyung ducks his head enough to make eye contact. “Hey, you okay? Go rest with Jimin, okay? I know Yoongi is kind of caught up right now, but he’ll move so he can work in a place where you can touch him if you need to.”

Hoseok laughs a little. “What?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “You’re jumping out of your skin here, hyung. You looked like you were going to start screaming like how I do, except then I touched you just now to see if it would help and it helped so much, I can already tell. If you need someone to touch you, obviously someone will. We all will, if you want. Well, maybe not Gukkie because he’s nonverbal and he doesn’t want anyone to see him or touch him right now, but everyone else will.”

Hoseok tenses up and wishes Taehyung would hug him, because it feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin with how much he needs physical contact right now, but he’s still not going to say it. Even if Taehyung has just spilled all of it for him, sort of, and Taehyung would definitely hug him if he only asked.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Hoseok says nothing. Taehyung hugs him so hard it almost crushes Hoseok’s ribs, no prompting necessary.

“Come on,” Taehyung chirps, shuffling them towards the living room still locked in the hug. They make an awkward pair, like penguins huddling through the snow, and Hoseok’s breathing is ragged against Taehyung’s collarbone as they head down the hall. They make it to the couch, and Taehyung looks at Jimin and then at Yoongi and clears his throat.

“Okay, listen up,” Taehyung says. “Seokseok-hyung needs you to not stop touching him for, like, the rest of the night at least, so Jimin and Yoongi-hyung, you need to do that. I’m serious. Don’t stop touching him. I’m going to hang out with Jeongguk because he’s nonverbal and I’ve been gone for about four minutes now which means I have 37 seconds to get back down there with him before he passes out or starts pacing and trying to tear his hair out, so I have to go. But Yoongi-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, move to the couch or the floor or something and let Hoseok-hyung lie with you, and Jimin, put yourself all along his back so he’s totally sandwiched in. Let him keep rambling. It’ll help.”

Everyone is moving before Taehyung even stops talking, and the second he lets go of Hoseok, Yoongi and Jimin are on him while Namjoon carries the computer over to the couch. Even Seokjin pauses whatever he’s doing in the kitchen to come over and massage his crooked fingers through Hoseok’s hair, and Hoseok thinks he might explode from all of the sudden affection.

Taehyung nods, satisfied. “Okay, great. I’m gonna bring Gukkie up here once he can handle it, so make sure there’s room for us to snuggle with all of you if he decides he wants that,” Taehyung says. “Bye!”

Taehyung disappears down the stairs, still clutching the first Harry Potter book and looking entirely too competent when two of the housemates are fucking breaking down all over everyone at the same time.

“Sorry, hyung, I didn’t quite realize,” Jimin says, situating everyone in this perfect and honestly impressive configuration that has Hoseok sighing in touch-starved relief. Namjoon is on the far end of the couch with the laptop in his lap, and Yoongi is next to him with Hoseok’s head and shoulders pillowed on his thighs. They’re still working, but Yoongi’s hands go into Hoseok’s hair as Seokjin heads back to the kitchen to finish dinner. Jimin rolls Hoseok onto his stomach and then lies down directly on top so he’s splayed all along the line of Hoseok’s back, head resting between Hoseok’s shoulder blades.

Hoseok shudders in relief, the tension in the room and in him draining as Jimin’s too-slight weight presses him safe and happy into the couch cushions.

“So what’s funny is that there were, like, so many things I said in high school that are like, I should’ve known I was asexual but somehow I didn’t? I mean, I guess I didn’t have a word for it, but, like, I was just thinking about how I specifically told this guy that he could totally sleep with this other girl as long as he didn’t make me have sex with him, or like—I mean obviously that’s a really not okay statement in a lot of ways but also it was high school and it was like 2010 and I didn’t know better, and there were all these other things, too, and—oh, sorry, sorry, I’m still rambling,” Hoseok says, trying to tamp it down.

“No, go ahead,” Jimin says, wiggling himself back and forth on top of Hoseok and pressing a kiss to Hoseok’s shoulder. “I wanna hear. What other stuff did you say?”

Hoseok closes his eyes and tells him.

“Back, back, sorry!” Taehyung chirps. Jeongguk blinks a few lazy times, not yes or no but more just an acknowledgement of Taehyung’s presence, his support. Taehyung reads the motion perfectly, because Taehyung always does.

“Okay, here we go! Can I touch you? Not pressuring you, just checking if you want that,” Taehyung says. Jeongguk blinks once and lifts himself up enough on the mattress for Taehyung to slide under the covers and over, and then Jeongguk presses his face to Taehyung’s soft stomach and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist, and Taehyung starts reading.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.”

Jeongguk has read this book multiple times, and still he listens, rapt. It sounds better than it ever has now that it’s being read in Taehyung’s deep voice in the comfort of their bed while Jeongguk can’t speak. It all feels fine when he’s wrapped up like this. It doesn’t matter that he can’t make a sound, that it’s too hard to get his brain to filter down to his mouth, that he’s terrified that he’s broken and that’s why he’s like this. It feels like it doesn’t matter because Taehyung is just handling it the way Taehyung always handles it; for as fragile as Taehyung is when he’s having a Bad Day, Taehyung is amazing at taking care of the others when they’re in trouble. He is, at least, the best at taking care of Jeongguk.

Jeongguk turns his head so his face isn’t squished directly against Taehyung’s stomach. He keeps his eyes closed and wishes, not for the first time, for a weighted blanket. Maybe Taehyung will order one for him since he can’t right now? But how would he communicate that? And it wouldn’t even come for like two days, and they’re really expensive—

“Hey, go away go away go away sorry hyung go away go away,” Taehyung is suddenly saying, and Jeongguk is feeling kind of crazy but he’s not so out of it that he doesn’t know that this is not a part of Harry Potter. He opens his eyes and sees Seokjin scurrying away up the stairs, hands up and eyes wide and shaking his head, and Jeongguk knows Seokjin really didn’t mean any harm, probably just coming to say dinner is ready, because it’s, what, like 7:00 p.m.? Jeongguk and Taehyung had been napping, right? That’s what happened. Taehyung wanted a nap after his shift at work, and Jeongguk had curled up with him, and then he woke up nonverbal. That’s what happened. It’s fine.

“Sorry, love,” Taehyung says, pressing his hand against Jeongguk’s head and pushing down so Jeongguk’s cheek squishes into Taehyung’s stomach. The harshness of the contact feels nice, like how Yoongi sometimes grabs Jeongguk’s hair just right and sends shivers down Jeongguk’s spine, all pleasant and stimulating and tingly. “He didn’t mean to.”

Jeongguk presses back against Taehyung’s touch and squeezes his arms around Taehyung’s waist to show that it’s okay. Taehyung hums, and Jeongguk is sure he’s understood.

“You want me to keep going? Are you going to be hungry? We can go get dinner if you want, or I’ll go get some and bring it down here. Or I can text someone and have them bring it down. Hobi-hyung is having a Bad Day too, I think. We haven’t ever seen one of those, so I guess I don’t know for sure, but he was freaking out and, like, couldn’t ask for what he needed? He was really jumpy and needed to be touched, like he seemed completely touch-starved, like Jiminie sometimes only worse? And he was alternating between like rambling off about nothing and being totally silent. I hope he’s okay.”

Jeongguk tenses, because he’s pretty sure there were questions in there that Jeongguk was supposed to answer, but he can’t, because Taehyung just breezed on past them. Maybe he’s not supposed to respond? Oh fuck oh fuck, what if Taehyung gets mad? Jeongguk can’t talk, can’t explain himself. He can’t do anything. Fuck. Fuck.

“Hey, you okay—oh, fuck! I’m so sorry, Jeonggukkie-baby; I didn’t mean to, please forgive me! I’ll ask again. Want me to keep reading?”

Jeongguk picks his head up and blinks once.

“Okay. Oh, baby, I’m so, so sorry. That was all my fault. I’ll keep reading and ask about dinner later. Or—wait, do you want dinner now?”

Two blinks.

“Will you maybe want food later?”

One blink.

Taehyung nods. “Okay. I will keep reading and ask again in 15 minutes. Is that okay? It’s okay if that’s not okay. Blink once if 15 minutes is okay, or twice if you want shorter, or three times for longer.”

Jeongguk is used to Taehyung adding rules to the blinking language, so he easily blinks twice, and Taehyung nods.

“Okay. How about ten minutes?”

Jeongguk blinks once.

Taehyung nods. “Okay. Keep reading, and in ten minutes, I will ask again about dinner. Yes?”

One blink.

Taehyung smiles and blinks back, holding his eyes closed for a long time in the cutest little smile Jeongguk has maybe ever seen. Jeongguk lifts up Taehyung’s shirt and kisses him right below the bellybutton.

Taehyung’s hiccupping breath is possibly even cuter than the closed-eyes smile. “Oh, Jeongguk, I love you,” Taehyung says. “I love you I love you I love you.”

Jeongguk blinks once, and then he starts sucking on the skin near Taehyung’s hip, just barely, more a comfort thing for himself than anything for Taehyung. Taehyung coos fondly and rubs his hand through Jeongguk’s hair, and then he keeps reading.

Jeongguk closes his eyes and keeps sucking hickeys into Taehyung’s skin, his tongue and teeth happy to have some sensory thing to focus on, because his jaw is kind of hurting the way it often does when he goes nonverbal, and it’s easy to get lost in the subtle coffee tang of Taehyung’s skin, the scent clinging from Taehyung’s morning shift at the coffee shop/bookstore today.

They’re lucky to have the healthcare that they have through the government, Jeongguk thinks as he lets his mind wander through his schedule for the next few days. It’s a Wednesday, and Hoseok has his first appointment with a therapist tomorrow. Maybe that’s why he’s having a Bad Day, like Taehyung had reported. Jeongguk and Taehyung are going together on Friday—not together together, but they have appointments one after the other, because everyone else had agreed that they should be the two who get consecutive appointments every Friday afternoon. Everyone else had been so willing to go alone for their sake, so they could go together.

Only Hoseok is freaking out. Hoseok is having a Bad Day; that’s so sad. Jeongguk doesn’t want Hoseok to be having a Bad Day because Bad Days hurt, like right now. Right now hurts, and Hoseok is also having a Bad Day right now, so right now must hurt for Hoseok too. Maybe Hoseok needs someone to go with him to the appointment tomorrow.

And when is Namjoon’s appointment again? Yoongi’s had been Monday, and Yoongi has seemed fine since. But seeming fine and being fine are different. Jeongguk resolves himself to check in with Yoongi soon, whenever he can get Yoongi alone. Yoongi and Jeongguk have always had some sort of easy understanding between them, especially since they started smoking weed together occasionally. When Seokjin isn’t home. Seokjin doesn’t like drugs, and Jeongguk and Yoongi respect that, although Jeongguk is pretty sure that Seokjin knows. Maybe he should check in about that, too, so he and Yoongi (and occasionally Tae) can stop doing it if it’s really not okay with Jin-hyung.

So Yoongi was Monday, and Hoseok is tomorrow, and Jeongguk and Taehyung are Friday, and maybe Namjoon is going on Saturday? Do therapists have appointments on Saturdays? And when is Seokjin going? Maybe Seokjin went today. Or maybe they couldn’t fit him in until next Wednesday. Jeongguk can’t remember.

“Hey, baby, love, Jeonggukkie, hey, I love you! Hey, it’s been ten minutes; do you want dinner?”

Jeongguk thinks about it. He’s actually kind of hungry, less stressed. The paralysis in his vocal cords or his brain or whatever is less something’s wrong and more I’m safe and Taehyung’s got me. He blinks once. Taehyung does a cute upper body dance. Everything about Taehyung is cute, Jeongguk thinks. Taehyung’s cute boxy smile. His cute double- and triple-pierced ears. His cute pinky-gray hair. His cute little poochy belly that’s really pretty small and strong but also still poochy, which Jeongguk loves. His cute hands, always smudged with ink because Taehyung is really bad at capping markers on the first try. His cute gaspy moans when he lets Jeongguk tease him towards the edge and then over with just his fingers and his tongue.

“Dinner! Dinner, okay! Do you want me to go get it and bring it down—blink once—or to text someone else to bring some down for us—blink twice—or for us to go upstairs with them—blink three times!”

Jeongguk blinks three times and sighs, nuzzling into Taehyung’s stomach one more time before he sits up. Taehyung sits up next to him, and they grab hands at the exact same moment, and then Taehyung giggles and Jeongguk’s shoulders shake even though he’s still silent.

“I love you! I love dinner! Come on, I wanna see if Hobi-hyung is okay,” Taehyung says, and then they’re scrambling out from under the covers and avoiding the gauzy fabric of the fort, and Taehyung pulls Jeongguk all the way to the stairs and up them, allowing Jeongguk to half-hide behind him, safe and secure and happy and still unable to make a sound.

“Hey! Jeongguk’s feeling sort of better so don’t be mean to him but please we want dinner,” Taehyung chirps. Hoseok stops rambling and nudges Jimin off to the side so they can sit up together. Jimin keeps himself pressed all along Hoseok’s back, his chin hooked over Hoseok’s shoulder and his arms tight around Hoseok’s waist, palms pressed to Hoseok’s stomach under his shirt.

“Did anyone else ever notice that Taehyung’s words go kind of weird when Jeongguk is nonverbal?” Hoseok asks, and then panic shoots through him because maybe he wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Oh, yeah, my head’s always a jumble when Jeonggukkie can’t talk because I have to do it for both of us and it’s like having twice the words in my head and my mouth can’t fit them all,” Taehyung says, smiling over at Jeongguk, who nods and leans over to kiss Taehyung. Taehyung hums into the kiss and brings his hand up to feather through Jeongguk’s hair.

“Do you actually hear each other’s thoughts?” Yoongi asks, not unkindly, but a little bit teasing. “I’m seriously asking; like, I know you guys are, like, really in sync and whatever, but like—are you actually telepathic?”

Taehyung and Jeongguk look at each other, and then Jeongguk blushes and ducks his head and shrugs, and Taehyung giggles and presses his lips to the top of Jeongguk’s head. They don’t bother to answer, but Hoseok kind of feels like for all intents and purposes, they have.

“I made Japanese food for dinner,” Seokjin says, emerging from the kitchen in a frilly apron. Namjoon leaps off the couch, tearing his headphones out of his ears, and swoops Seokjin into a Really Intense Kiss.

“What’s going on?” Hoseok asks, feeling a lot less Bad. There’s something in the air all of a sudden, with Jeongguk and Taehyung’s appearance from the basement and Seokjin’s from the kitchen. “Why’s it feel happy all of a sudden?”

Yoongi looks over, leaning forward to set his laptop on the coffee table and scooting closer to Hoseok so that now Hoseok is pressed against not just one but both of his boyfriends, which is really just about the best thing that could possibly be happening considering it’s still a Bad Day. “It feels happy? Do you feel happy?” Yoongi asks, whispering into Hoseok’s hair.

Hoseok trembles and shakes his head. “No, no, I don’t feel happy. The air feels happy. Like, the whole room. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Jimin whispers. “You don’t have to be fine.”

Hoseok gets the sense that Jimin and Yoongi are communicating behind his back, but if they are, he doesn’t mind, because they’re nuzzling into either side of his neck, and Yoongi has a thigh thrown over the crisscross of Hoseok’s legs, and Jimin is solid against Hoseok’s back, and Hoseok feels really scared and manic and terrible but he’s also grounded and he’s okay, okay, okay.

“You guys wanna eat in here?” Seokjin asks as Namjoon finally pulls away, both of them looking kind of sheepish. “Or at the table?”

“Here,” everyone says, except Jeongguk, obviously, and except Hoseok, who still can’t say anything about his own desires or needs.

“Okay. Joonie, babe, will you help me carry everything out here? I made tempura and rice and miso soup, and there’s cabbage too. That okay with everyone? Jeonggukkie, you want a grilled cheese?”

Oh yeah. Jeongguk sometimes can only eat grilled cheese. Hoseok forgot that was a thing, especially because grilled cheese is such a random American food.

Jeongguk looks at Taehyung, apparently in the phase where he can communicate kind of, but only to Taehyung. Taehyung looks over at Seokjin and shakes his head, and Hoseok is honestly unsure of how Jeongguk told Taehyung that he didn’t want grilled cheese, but whatever. Jeongguk and Taehyung are always kind of like that, even when Jeongguk is talking.

“Nah, he wants tempura! Pumpkin specifically, did you make pumpkin?” Taehyung asks.

“Yep, got it,” Seokjin says, smiling all proud. Seokjin loves being the caretaker. Namjoon smiles and kisses Seokjin’s cheek, his arms still encircling Seokjin’s waist. “Jesus, Namjoon, let go so we can actually go get the food.”

Namjoon lets go and they head into the kitchen, and Hoseok sits still in Yoongi’s and Jimin’s arms and hopes they don’t make him move in order to eat dinner.

“Hey, come on, let’s get between the couch and the table,” Yoongi suggests. “That okay, Hobi-hope?”

“Yeah. Did you know that in America, they roast pumpkin seeds at Halloween and put spices on them and stuff and bake them and eat them as a snack?” Hoseok asks, apparently still in ramble mode.

“I did not know that,” Yoongi says, deadpan but not in a mean way. Just his usual self, treating Hoseok like he always does, which makes Hoseok’s chest glow warm.

“How do you know that?” Jimin asks, tugging at Hoseok as they all squish themselves between the table and the couch, pillows beneath them. It’s hot enough that they don’t need blankets, almost too hot to be pressed so close together, really, but Hoseok doesn’t mind.

“I don’t know. Don’t remember. Did I ever tell you about the rope swing? There was this rope swing by my house growing up, and one time my friend and I were on it and the branch broke, and we fell in and my friend gashed her leg open and we didn’t know what to do so we didn’t tell anyone, we just ran home and told her parents that she fell? And that doesn’t matter, so I don’t know why I’m telling you—”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi assures, taking both of Hoseok’s hands in his and kissing over Hoseok’s knuckles. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, hyung. I wanna know everything about you!” Jimin says.

“Um…”

“I’ll go get our headphones if you want!” Taehyung says as he and Jeongguk settle into the loveseat. “If you wanna talk but don’t want us to hear.”

Jeongguk holds up two fingers like a V, and Taehyung grabs his hand and starts tracing over it with this intense focus that makes Hoseok’s heart skip to look at.

“That’s right,” Taehyung says, still staring at Jeongguk’s fingers. “We have a headphone splitter so we can listen to the same thing at the same time but in our own headphones!”

“Jesus,” Yoongi says. “You guys are kind of scary with how you talk to each other, you know?”

Taehyung looks over, eyes wide like he’s confused. “You guys do it too,” he says. “Didn’t you know?”

“What?” Hoseok asks, shivering as Yoongi rests his head on Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Telepathy,” Taehyung says. “I mean, like, Jeongguk and I actually have some established nonverbal signals we use because of Jeongguk’s Bad Days, like especially after I have a Bad Day and then sometimes that triggers Jeongguk’s Bad Days, and then we’re both a mess and we’re just down in the basement like shit, what do we do how do we talk? and we do it like that! With stuff we’ve already decided. Maybe you guys don’t have that, but you three are definitely in each other’s heads in this way that the rest of us aren’t. And Joonie-hyung and Jin-hyung too, like, haven’t you seen the way they always look at each other during breakfast?”

Hoseok thinks about it, and he looks at Jimin, who nods, and Yoongi, who’s smiling really fucking wide all of a sudden, the corners of his mouth tight like he’s trying to hide it.

“I’m afraid I have schizophrenia like my mom,” Hoseok blurts.

Even Jeongguk’s eyes dart up to look at him. Everyone at the table is frozen. Namjoon and Seokjin set food down on the table and settle on the other side, but they’re staring at him too.

Hoseok swallows.

“Hey,” Yoongi says. “Hey, talk to us. Tell us what’s up.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “I don’t know, I don’t—I don’t think I do. I think I would know.”

“Are you hearing things, hyung?” Jimin asks. One of his hands is hovering near his stomach, flicking at something beneath his shirt—his bellybutton ring, because he always plays with it when he’s focused or concerned or bored.

Hoseok smiles, and he knows it’s dissonant with the way he’s spilling his terror all over the dinner table, but he can’t help it. Jiminie is fucking cute. “I just worry,” Hoseok says. “Like, sometimes my head does feel like it has too much going on and I can’t sort through it, and I guess that’s not the same as schizophrenia, but—I learned about it a little bit in my cognitive science course in college? Like that one theory is that your hippocampus can’t sort out what’s important and what’s not important with, like, what you’re taking in. But that’s not even—the physiological cause isn’t—there are a bunch of different theories, and—I don’t know, I just worry that maybe my brain is overstimulated and can’t sort it all out and that’s why I feel so weird and like I gotta keep talking, but I don’t know.

“I didn’t ever ask my mom what it feels like because she’s been on and off medication and some of it helped and some didn’t and I didn’t want to freak her out by asking, and I don’t hallucinate so I’m probably fine but I’m just scared and I don’t know what’s wrong and it just sucks.”

Everyone is still staring. Hoseok laughs too loud and feels like his intestines are shrinking and curling in on themselves, and it’s weird and slimy inside him.

Seokjin starts passing around small plates and chopsticks. “Hoseok,” he says. “You should tell the doctor all of that tomorrow.”

Hoseok pales. Namjoon nudges Seokjin, and Seokjin looks up at Hoseok and shakes his head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Seokjin says. “Fuck, I did this to Jeonggukkie earlier too; I’m sorry, I don’t mean to barge in on you guys like that, literally or metaphorically. I didn’t—fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok says, and he means it.

“We all misstep,” Yoongi says, quiet. “And we’re all different with how we help each other. Seokjin, you’re just really fucking forward, which I need, and Namjoon needs that too sometimes, and Jeongguk when he’s being super emo but not actually having a Bad Day.” There’s a fond smile in his voice as he says it, and Hoseok looks over at Jeongguk and Taehyung. Jeongguk is blushing and smiling and resting his head on Taehyung’s shoulder, his eyes closed. Totally willing to accept Yoongi’s sort-of jab.

“Yeah, we do get really emo,” Taehyung says, and then he furrows his brow and shakes his head, his hair fanning into a fuzzy pink halo around his cheeks. It’s getting kind of long. “Oops, I mean—wow, I haven’t done that before, just got all confused about who’s me and who’s Jeongguk who’s not-me.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. Jeongguk is you, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, dismissive even as the words are kind of sweet. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah, we got it,” Jimin says, reaching over to ruffle Taehyung’s hair.

Jeongguk just keeps his eyes closed, resting against Taehyung.

“I wanna eat,” Hoseok says, because there’s a weight in the air that feels like it needs to be alleviated. Which is weird, and Hoseok doesn’t really know what he’s feeling, but they all start snatching up pieces of tempura pumpkin and eggplant and shrimp, and miso soup is being ladled into bowls, and individual cups of rice are being passed around, and Hoseok is content to start eating, the tension in him dissolving a little bit. He’s not sure why he feels such an intense need to talk, to fill air that already feels too heavy, or why he’s so afraid of being under attack all the time.

That’s how it feels, Hoseok realizes. It feels like he’s constantly preparing his defenses in case he’s going to come under attack, and he has to talk his way out of it. All the time, but especially right now, on a Bad Day. Does everyone feel like that? Is that why Hoseok is so terrified of authority, of his own boss at work? Why he’s afraid to ask for days off, or even to make a joke if the studio manager is around? Why he loves the days when his boss isn’t there because it takes away so much pressure, leaves Hoseok feeling free and light and not under constant threat of reprimand?

“Dude, the pumpkin is fuckin’ bomb,” Yoongi is saying around a mouth of food, and then he swallows and starts feeding Hoseok, which is—okay, not a thing that they usually do, but it’s welcome because it keeps Hoseok’s mouth occupied so he doesn’t go back to spilling his secrets to the entire table.

“Yeah, seriously,” Namjoon says, looking over a Hoseok with an expression like you okay?

Hoseok lets Yoongi feed him and snuggles against Jimin and feels—not great, but okay.

“So anyways, I was saying—Seokjin and I are kinda harsh, like in different ways but still,” Yoongi says. “And Namjoon just intellectualizes everything, which works really well for, like, Jimin, right?”

Jimin nods, nibbling at his rice and sipping his soup and definitely not eating enough, but he’s eating something, so that’s a victory no one’s going to jeopardize by trying to force more on him.

“And Taehyung, too,” Taehyung says. “I love when Namjoonie-hyung talks drugs with me but, like, intellectually. Like about how they work and stuff. It’s so comforting because it feels non-judgy.”

Seokjin stiffens a little, and Hoseok nudges his oldest hyung’s leg under the table with his foot. Seokjin keeps eating.

Yoongi nods. “And then Jiminie and Taehyung, you guys are so good are being nurturing and fuzzy and really warm and sentimental. Like Jimin will hug you all day, and Taehyung tells the best stories from the past. Shit that I would never remember, but then Taehyung tells me and it’s like—oh, yeah, we totally did do that! And it was hilarious, and Taehyung remembered.”

“I have a really good memory,” Taehyung says.

“And Hoseok, babe, you’re such a steadying presence, and you just smile and it’s like—there’s light inside of me just looking at you, and you’re not even doing anything. Just seeing you is enough. And then Jeongguk is so good at just being there. Like, he’ll never leave you alone if you’re not okay, like when I want to cut myself,” Yoongi says, and it’s way too forward and Yoongi doesn’t ever talk like that, but Hoseok blushes and keeps eating his rice.

“I don’t wanna eat right now,” Jimin says, looking over at Yoongi. “I don’t wanna eat, like, ever, but I’m going to because I want to want to, and maybe one day I will. And I’m gonna talk to the therapist, so they’ll help me, maybe.”

“I crave cigarettes all the time,” Taehyung says. “I know I always say I didn’t ever get myself addicted to anything, but—I did, and it’s that. But it’s so bad for you and I hate how it smells? Which is weird considering how much I like them. But. Yeah. I’m like always hyper and shaking for a cigarette and Jeongguk knows and kisses it out of me. And Jeonggukkie wants a weighted blanket for when his sensory stuff is being weird, and I ordered one for him like a week ago but it still hasn’t come yet! Which is stupid,” Taehyung says. “Maybe I should call and complain.”

Jeongguk looks up at Taehyung and a grin breaks across his mouth, and Taehyung feeds him a piece of eggplant tempura and pretends to try to bite Jeongguk’s nose, which scrunches up all cute as Taehyung puffs out his cheeks and widens his eyes at Jeongguk. “Sorry, the blanket was gonna be a surprise,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rocks his shoulder into Taehyung’s, and Taehyung coos like it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“I almost tried to kill myself last week,” Namjoon says. “And then felt really shitty for like two days after, and I’m freaked out that when I go to the therapist on Saturday, they’re going to put me on suicide watch or something even though I’m not suicidal now, and presumably won’t be on Saturday. I mean, hopefully. God. That would suck.”

“I fell over in the shower yesterday,” Seokjin says, and that’s it. That’s enough. Seokjin does not admit weakness, not ever.

Hoseok shakes his head and pushes himself up straighter against the couch. “What are you guys doing?”

“What?” Namjoon and Yoongi ask at the same time.

“I know you’re doing something. You guys never do this. Why are you suddenly all just not hiding like this?”

They all look around at each other, and then Seokjin opens his mouth and keeps going. “I fell over in the shower yesterday morning because I had a flashback, and that’s why I worked from home yesterday—not because I was arranging more doctor’s appointment stuff. I fell over and my back was flaring up and Namjoon had to come in and lift me out of the shower and wash out my conditioner and stuff. And he even did my makeup for me, because I was feeling shitty and needed to wear it but I couldn’t do it myself and he’s getting way better at makeup, and it was awesome and I love him.”

Namjoon grabs Seokjin’s hand on top of the table, and Hoseok can see him tracing his thumb back and forth over Seokjin’s wrist.

“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” Hoseok asks, looking around at everyone.

“Because you’re spilling your soul to all of us like you can’t help it,” Jimin says. “So we should be vulnerable too.”

“But you don’t have to be,” Hoseok says. “You’re so—you’re so lucky that you can just ask for what you want or say you don’t want something instead of—instead of this, where I can’t ask for my needs to be met and instead I just talk and talk and talk and blab about how I’m feeling without ever actually communicating anything, and it’s like—fuck, I don’t want this. This is so stupid. Why can’t I just tell you what I need? Why’s it have to be so hard?”

“We’ll get better at reading you, Hobi,” Yoongi says. “I swear to you. I will work so hard and learn every tell you’ve got, and I will not let you down when you need something that I can give, or when you don’t want something I’m trying to offer. I swear it.”

“Swear,” Jimin says. “If you can’t tell us, then that’s okay. We’ll learn.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. “I mean—I’ve seen your Bad Days before, but I guess this is the first time for everyone else. And I’ve tried to do my best—like, I didn’t tell Jin-hyung about how this is for you because I know you don’t like it. But we’re all here for you. We’ll learn everything we can to make you happy and comfortable, Hobi.”

“Yep!” Taehyung says. “Promise. Jeonggukkie too.”

Jeongguk looks around, and then he actually nods. He can’t always nod when he’s nonverbal, so maybe he’s coming out of it.

Hoseok looks around the table and swallows. “I didn’t want you to see this,” he admits. “I don’t like it. I don’t like that I talk and talk and it’s all a bunch of nothing but it’s disguising the something. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi and Jimin nuzzle in, and Hoseok lets Seokjin feed him a piece of shrimp.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Jimin says. “We love you. I love you.”

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers.

“Tae,” Jeongguk whispers, tugging Taehyung’s head down so he can whisper something in Taehyung’s ear. There’s a collective exchanging of glances, because they’ve never actually seen Jeongguk go from nonverbal to verbal before; only Taehyung has seen that.

Taehyung is nodding as Jeongguk whispers in his ear, and then he pulls away from Jeongguk and smiles, rectangular and bright, eyes shining to match.

“Jeonggukkie says he wants to sleep in your room tonight, if you want. If that’s okay,” Taehyung says.

“Oh,” Hoseok says, looking from Jimin to Yoongi. They both shrug and nod. “Okay, Jeongguk,” Hoseok says. “Yeah. That’s—thank you.”

“It’s fine, hyung,” Jeongguk says, voice barely more than a whisper. “I want to.”

“Taehyung too!” Taehyung shouts, doing his happy dance.

Hoseok shakes his head, and sips his miso, and returns Jeongguk’s shy smile.

“You wanna get ready for bed before we head to Seokseok and Yoongi and Jiminie’s room? Or get ready upstairs? I bet Hobi would let us borrow his pajamas,” Taehyung says as he and Jeongguk wash the dishes. Seokjin never cleans because he always cooks, and Namjoon can’t be trusted not to break stuff (although Taehyung has historically done that too), and Yoongi and Hoseok and Jimin are taking a bath in Seokjin’s master bathroom, because Hoseok is still kind of shaky and Seokjin has generously volunteered his giant bathtub for the evening in the interest of helping Hoseok to feel better.

Jeongguk likes doing the dishes, so Taehyung had offered. Taehyung always knows what Jeongguk can do and what he can’t.

“Downstairs,” Jeongguk says. “I don’t like borrowing Jimin-hyung’s toothbrush.”

“You could borrow Yoongi-hyung’s instead,” Taehyung teases. Taehyung doesn’t mind sharing toothbrushes with anyone in the house, because he’s really weird. Jeongguk loves him.

“I don’t want him to literally murder me,” Jeongguk says. His voice is still a whisper, and he’s feeling like he kind of just doesn’t want to use it, but Taehyung is grinning and intentionally bumping into him where they’re crowded in front of the sink, and Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

“Okay, so finish the dishes-washing, then downstairs for the getting readying, then up to snuggle with our squishy mochi baby Jiminie and our pretty grumpy sugar cookie cinnamon roll hyung and our sunshiny cuddle puffball flower child hyung!”

“Everything about that sentence was weird and you’re so weird, hyung,” Jeongguk whispers.

Taehyung freezes, but Jeongguk can tell it’s totally fake. “You just called me ‘hyung’,” Taehyung says, acting all shocked. Which—to be fair, it is rare. Jeongguk and Taehyung are just way too close for that, usually.

“Makes me feel safe,” Jeongguk whispers, even though he doesn’t need to. Taehyung knows.

“I’ve got you, Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung says back, nonchalant. He leans over all of a sudden and looks into Jeongguk’s eyes, their faces really close, just searching for a few seconds before he is evidently satisfied and looks away.

They finish up the dishes in silence, and then Jeongguk grabs Taehyung’s arms and pulls them over his shoulders from behind, and Taehyung gets the idea and jumps onto Jeongguk’s back, and Jeongguk carries a giggling Taehyung down the stairs to the basement, Taehyung doing most of the work to stay on Jeongguk’s back, ankles locked in front of Jeongguk’s hips and arms almost too tight around his neck.

They get ready the way they always do: moving seamlessly around each other in the bathroom, music playing through the Bluetooth speakers paired to one of their phones—honestly Jeongguk can’t actually remember which phone is whose? Maybe Taehyung’s is the one with the Haikyuu!! case and Jeongguk’s is the one with the Overwatch case? Or is it the other way around, because they wanted to represent each other’s favorite things on their phones? They both have the same black iPhones, so it’s kind of hard to keep track. Maybe that’s why everyone else in the house always asks Jeongguk who he is when he messages them on KKT. He’s not sure which account is signed in on which phone, or if the account signed in on each phone even belongs to the actual owner of the phone itself.

“We switch phones a lot,” Jeongguk says around his toothbrush.

Taehyung nods. “Mine’s the one with the Little Mermaid case.”

“We don’t own a Little Mermaid case. Jimin has Rapunzel on his, if that’s what you’re thinking of.”

“Oh,” Taehyung says. He spits out his toothpaste and rinses, and then he straightens and kisses Jeongguk’s cheek. “Whatever. We’ll figure it out when we get an upgrade or whatever, I guess.”

Jeongguk shrugs, because this is probably true.

“Hey, you guys wanna bring extra pillows up?” Jimin’s voice calls from the top of the stairs.

“On it!” Taehyung shouts back. He doesn’t move, though—just starts putting lotion on and examining his pores in the mirror.

Jeongguk washes his face and feels how his teeth ache in his gums, like he’s been clenching his jaw. He starts brushing his teeth and it feels kind of good. Helps with the ache.

Taehyung squeezes at his cheeks a couple times and makes faces at Jeongguk in the mirror, and Jeongguk shakes his head and grins around his toothbrush. “Blackheads!” Taehyung says. “Boo, I hate them!” He sticks out his tongue at himself, and Jeongguk knocks his forehead lightly against Taehyung’s temple. Taehyung finally decides he’s satisfied with how his skin looks, and he leans away from the mirror to grin at Jeongguk. “I’m gonna get the pillows, okay? You almost ready?”

“Tae,” Jeongguk says, snagging Taehyung’s sleeve before Taehyung can leave the bathroom. “Hold on, hyung. Um. Just. I still…uh.” He has to stop and close his eyes and restart. “I want—sorry don’t wanna talk if that’s okay sorry.” It’s a rush of impatient syllables tripping up his tongue, and Taehyung looks really sympathetic and in love.

“Yeah, honey, of course,” Taehyung says. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung leans in and examines Jeongguk’s eyes, and before Jeongguk can say anything, he draws back and sighs. “You’re kind of not, baby. But if you think you’re up for it, we can still go upstairs, okay? I’ll be you for you. And I’ll be me. Both of us, okay?”

Jeongguk nods, a lump in his throat at how impossibly well Taehyung reads him. At how well Taehyung takes care of him. “Kay, hyung.”

Taehyung preens a little and grabs a bobby pin to pin Jeongguk’s bangs out of his eyes the way Jeongguk always does before bed. “Okay!” Taehyung cheers. “Ready. Ready?”

Jeongguk nods, his shoulders coming up the way they do when he wants to feel small. Smaller than Taehyung. Taehyung and Jeongguk are about the same size, and Jeongguk likes how they can shift their postures to alternate who’s bigger and who’s smaller depending on what they need at a given moment.

Taehyung pulls Jeongguk out of the bathroom with a solid grip on his wrist, and Jeongguk focuses all his attention on that contact. They scoop up some pillows, trying to balance them between each other so that Taehyung doesn’t have to let go of Jeongguk’s wrist. It pretty much works, although they have to really concentrate to keep the stack from falling.

Upstairs, Namjoon and Seokjin are sitting together on the couch. It’s funny, Jeongguk thinks, how they’re not touching—they are, in fact, on completely different ends of the sofa, each holding a steaming mug of tea, Namjoon kind of sprawled out while Seokjin has his knees tugged into his chest the way he always sits when his back is hurting. Jeongguk probably isn’t supposed to know that, though.

Namjoon and Seokjin are giggling and chatting, voices low: the picture of domestic content. They pause to look up as Taehyung and Jeongguk walk past them with about six pillows stacked between them.

“You guys need help?” Seokjin says, looking soft and happy and warm, his mouth relaxed, no tension held in his forehead or his jaw. Long talks with Namjoon always get Seokjin that way, though, so Jeongguk doesn’t think much of it as he shakes his head, as Taehyung chirps a cute refusal and a thank you.

Namjoon has to look over his shoulder to make eye contact, but he does, and when Jeongguk meets his gaze, Namjoon winks. Winks like he’s won the lottery but it’s a big secret, which is stupid, of course, because everyone knows Namjoon won the lottery when he landed the affections of Kim Seokjin. Jeongguk smiles, and Namjoon’s dimples deepen. Namjoon looks over at Seokjin, and even from the side, Jeongguk can tell how enamored Namjoon is—not just by Seokjin’s beauty, which is not inconsiderable, but with everything about him.

“Sleep well. Wake us if you need anything,” Seokjin says. Namjoon nods, stroking his chin.

“Oh my god, we’re fine,” Taehyung says. “Take care of Dad Number One, Dad Number Two.”

“Dad Number Two?” Namjoon splutters, and Seokjin giggles as Taehyung laughs maniacally and starts tugging Jeongguk down the hall. Jeongguk can hear the sound of Seokjin and Namjoon settling back into whatever after-dinner conversation they were having, all tender and calm like they actually are the parents of the house with all their kids piling into one room for a sleepover, and it’s nice. It’s really, really nice.

“Taehyungie! Jeonggukkie-baby!” Jimin twitters as they enter Yoongi’s bedroom. It’s kind of a mess inside—with three people sleeping in the room all the time, Jimin and Hoseok had the great idea to dismantle Yoongi’s bedframe and put the double mattress on the floor and then put Jimin’s twin mattress next to it, so more than half the room is just a giant bed.

“You okay, darling?” Yoongi drawls from where he’s lounging back against the wall at the place where the headboard would be if they had a headboard big enough for such a setup, which they don’t.

“Who?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung shushes him, playful but stern, and Jeongguk lifts his hands and nods, ducking his head into Taehyung’s shoulder.

“He’s fine and I’m fine and he’s gonna keep not talking because his teeth hurt and so I’m both of us now, so if you wanna talk to Jeonggukkie you can just talk to me and we’ll get it!”

“What?” Jimin asks, tugging Taehyung and, by extension, Jeongguk forward until they’re standing at the edge of the mattresses, their pillows tumbling down so Yoongi and Hoseok can arrange them how they want. It’s hot enough that Yoongi has the room’s air conditioner unit running on high, and Jeongguk sighs and shrugs and lets Taehyung tug him down across the pillow nest from Yoongi and Hoseok and Jimin.

“Teeth hurt because ow my jaw clenches, see I’m doing it now he’s doing it too ow ow,” Taehyung says, which doesn’t make any sense grammatically but still makes everyone wince because, like, yeah, that’s about the state of things.

Taehyung. Fuck. Jeongguk loves Taehyung.

“Why are you all the way over there, guys?” Jimin pouts. Taehyung and Jeongguk are indeed down at what would be considered the end of the bed, and Jimin sits cross-legged in the middle of the mattress island and frowns, looking all distressed and adorable.

Jeongguk tugs at Taehyung’s hand.

“Okay!” Taehyung says, and then they shift up the mattresses until everyone’s a big blob of limbs and wild-colored hair, even Jeongguk, who has recently added some purple streaks in around his bangs at Hoseok’s suggestion.

“Dude, Taehyung, your shoulder is legitimately in my dick right now,” Yoongi says, shoving at Taehyung’s head.

Taehyung cracks into hiccupping giggles and repositions himself, and Yoongi grumbles and tucks himself closer to Hoseok, who’s—he’s fallen really quiet, and he looks kind of overwhelmed but in a good way, like how Jeongguk gets when he’s just washed his sheets and showered and he’s all curled up in bed with an equally clean Taehyung, the two of them in what is undoubtedly the most comfortable position on the planet, so satisfying to Jeongguk’s senses that he can never help but hum to himself while Taehyung giggles and harmonizes along in delight.

Jeongguk tugs at Taehyung’s wrist and looks over at Hoseok, and Taehyung smiles. “Yoongi-hyung. Jimin. Hey, you guys gotta pay attention to Hobi-hyung right now. He’s really happy and doesn’t know how to, like, metabolize it. That’s a good word for that, right?” Taehyung asks, cocking his head to the side. His hand is trembling. He wants a cigarette.

Jeongguk leans up and kisses him, and Taehyung moans all delighted and distracted and in love, and Jeongguk smiles into the kiss and tries not to make it too inappropriate. They are in their hyungs’ bed right now.

“Oh, ew, stop doing that,” Yoongi says, but Jimin says something about taking care of Hobi and Yoongi’s protests stop, and then Jeongguk hears Yoongi’s Soft Voice, the one he only ever uses with Jimin and Hoseok, and it’s really reassuring to know that Yoongi is checking in with Hoseok because Hoseok needs it.

Taehyung draws back, his whole expression lit up like those Christmas lights from the fort last weekend. “Gukkie, honey, love,” Taehyung says, and then he looks over at their companions so Jeongguk does too, and Hoseok has his eyes closed while Yoongi whispers into his ear and Jimin sucks a bruise into his neck, which is—well, yeah, kind of inappropriate, but Jeongguk thinks he wouldn’t mind someone sucking a bruise into his neck right now either, so that’s what he gets Taehyung to do.

And Taehyung does it, and then Jeongguk returns the favor, and then Taehyung sucks on Jimin’s neck too, and that’s—new, but it’s whatever, because friends can give friends hickeys when they’re as close as all of them are and it’s fine.

“You okay with that?” Yoongi asks Hoseok, and then he looks over at Jeongguk like the question is directed at him too.

Hoseok nods, hiding a shy grin in Yoongi’s shoulder, his nose hidden in the fabric of Yoongi’s hoodie. How is Yoongi not burning up right now?

“I don’t mind,” Hoseok says. “I love Taehyungie. And Jiminie.”

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah,” he says, even though his teeth hurt.

“Shit, didn’t mean you had to talk,” Yoongi says as he ruffles Jeongguk’s hair. Jeongguk shrugs.

“It’s okay. I’m really okay. Just don’t feel like—” His voice disappears right at the end there, and his lungs freeze up, and Yoongi and Hoseok both get all worried and sit up and start humming over him while Jeongguk closes his eyes and breathes and calms down.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” Hoseok asks, threading gentle fingers through Jeongguk’s hair.

Jeongguk nods, and opens his eyes, and hopes his feelings are communicated well enough even though he’s not speaking. They are, apparently, because Yoongi and Hoseok nod and relax back against the pillows, and Jeongguk snuggles into their laps and watches Taehyung bite Jimin’s collarbone with a cute little growl, his heart all full and happy and all these people around to help him metabolize it.

Because yeah, that’s a pretty Taehyung-y way of putting it, but it’s not inaccurate. Taehyung knows. Taehyung always knows.

“I’ll go with you, you know,” Yoongi says. “My boss told me I have a couple of paid days off I can take, and this week isn’t busy. So I can call him tomorrow morning and tell him I want tomorrow.”

Hoseok swallows and stares down at the light blanket covering them, the only thing thin enough for the heat of mid-June, even with the air conditioner on. It’s late, the lights all off, Jeongguk and Taehyung staring at something on one of their phones with headphones in—they must have the splitter, then, the one Jeongguk had somehow sign-languaged to Taehyung earlier using only two fingers. Their faces are lit blueish green by whatever they’re looking at, and when Hoseok sits up to catch a glimpse, it looks like a stream of some fantasy videogame.

“Hobi?” Yoongi asks, stroking a finger down Jimin’s cheek. Jimin is asleep in between Yoongi and Hoseok, his cheeks a little sharper than they should be in the shadows of the room.

“He looks too thin,” Hoseok whispers, safe in the dark, he and Yoongi in their own little world. “I’m worried.”

“Is that what triggered the Bad Day?”

Hoseok bites his lip. Swallows. “No. But it—it doesn’t help.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says. “It gets worse and then better and then worse. I don’t know how to support him. I don’t want to, like, make him eat.”

“I don’t even want to tell him to. I don’t want to bring it up at all because I know it’ll make him feel worse. But he—I want him to be able to talk to us about it, you know? Without judgment. Which is why he talks to Namjoon sometimes, I guess. Namjoon will talk about BMI and calories and stuff all scientifically, so like. Maybe we need to do that. I don’t know. I just—I just love him and I want him to be safe,” Hoseok says, nearly working himself to tears. “I want him to be alive.”

Yoongi stares at Hoseok for a long, searching moment. “You feel helpless,” he says.

Hoseok nods. “Do you think…seeing someone will help him?” There’s another meaning in there, Hoseok knows, and—

Yoongi’s eyes say he’s picking up on it. “Yeah, Hobi-hope,” he says. “Yes. It’ll help. I went in college a couple times. Seokjin wanted me to go then, too. And it helped. And Monday…helped. Again. I want to go back next Monday, if that tells you anything.”

Hoseok swallows. “Jimin and…all of us.”

“Yes.”

Take a long, deep breath. Summon your courage. “And me?”

“Yes,” Yoongi says, again. Simple.

“Promise?” Hoseok whispers.

Yoongi kisses his forehead. “Promise.” There’s a second’s pause and then Yoongi leans in and kisses Hoseok on the lips, and Hoseok feels himself blushing as he kisses back, because Hoseok loves kissing even if his interest in sex is low and incredibly circumstantial.

“Hey, Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok asks as Yoongi pulls away and presses their foreheads together.

“Yeah?”

“Is it…um. It’s okay if I never want to have sex again, right?” Hoseok says, the words expelled in a rush of desperation and terror. “I mean—I should’ve asked, I shouldn’t—is it okay? It’s okay if it’s not okay, I’ll just—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Yoongi says, grabbing Hoseok’s hands and bringing them up to his mouth to exhale over them, not a kiss. Just proximity, the comforting kind, the kind that makes Hoseok feel like Yoongi is the most infinitely wise and wonderful person in the universe. “Hope, baby, I love you so goddamn much, and Jimin loves you too, and everyone in this house loves every little thing you do, like, we’re so enamored with you? And we fucking need you and we would never expect you to have sex with anyone, ever, for the whole rest of your life, which is gonna be really fucking long and filled with all of us telling you how fucking beautiful and perfect and necessary you are. So you better prepare yourself, Jung Hoseok, because I’m going to love the motherfucking fuck out of you.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says, yawning and stretching and almost hitting Hoseok in the face with his adorable, tiny fist. “Like Yoongi-hyung said. Gonna love the fuck outta you,” he slurs, obviously sleepy.

“Already love the fuck out of you,” Yoongi whispers, and Jimin hums happily and bites Hoseok’s wrist, which is kind of weird but not entirely unpleasant.

“Yeah, Hobi-hyung,” Jimin says. “You never have to have sex with us again. Even though we like it when you do. You can just feel comfortable doing whatever.”

Yoongi nods, and Hoseok hopes Taehyung and Jeongguk really aren’t listening. When he looks over to check, Taehyung is fast asleep, earphones still in and head cradled against Jeongguk’s shoulder. Jeongguk is staring down at Taehyung, phone forgotten in his lap even though his headphones are still in, too. His expression is so fond it makes Hoseok’s heart melt.

“Hey, Hope,” Yoongi says, fingers coming up to turn Hoseok’s head back towards him. “Really. You don’t have to have sex with us. Please don’t ever have sex with us if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “Honestly, if you wanted me and Yoongi-hyung to stop sleeping with each other too, we would, right?”

“Oh, god, yeah,” Yoongi says, staring straight at Hoseok. “You’re way more important than any of that.”

Hoseok blushes and looks furtively around the room. “Well, I mean—you guys know that I still jerk off sometimes. Like, for the release of it, I guess. And I obviously don’t mind if you guys do that. So you should still sleep with each other even if I’m not into it. I mean, maybe I will be, but…but maybe I won’t be, like, ever again. I don’t know. I just feel really not into sex right now,” Hoseok says, aware as he is that the feeling might pass by tomorrow or it might linger for days, weeks, months.

“That’s okay, honey,” Jimin says.

“I mean, I’ve had sex before, with both of you guys, together and separately,” Hoseok admits—not that it’s much of an admission, considering Yoongi and Jimin both obviously know. “But with other people, too. It doesn’t always feel like something unpleasant; with Yoongi the first time, it was something I really wanted to experience, and it was…nice. Like I’ve said before. With Jimin, too, and just—with both of you at—at the same time. Every time it’s happened. There are more reasons to have sex than pure sexual attraction.”

“Hell yeah there are,” Yoongi says.

“But…” Hoseok says. “You won’t get mad if I like…don’t want to sleep with you but I still jerk off, right?”

“Huh? Why would we get mad at that?” Jimin asks, sitting up now and climbing over Hoseok’s lap so Hoseok is squished in between him and Yoongi.

Hoseok shakes his head. “My ex from the beginning of college. He got mad at me because I wasn’t super into sex with him and—at the start of our relationship, I told him I was ace and he said I probably just hadn’t ever had good sex before, which like—I should’ve known he wasn’t someone I should’ve been with, but I just liked him a lot and—and basically I slept with him because it was important to him and I thought I wanted to—not for sexual attraction-y reasons, but just because of, like, intimacy and whatever.

“Anyways, as the relationship went on, I just kinda…didn’t initiate stuff, and every time we had sex I would just kinda lie there and wait for it to be over, and—anyways, I would still jerk off, and one time he caught me and said it was hot and so I thought—like, okay, that’s great, because I can do that and show him trust and intimacy that way, but then he just—he started getting really angry and saying, like, ‘oh, you’re not asexual because you still jerk off and you just don’t want to have sex with me, you just want to get yourself off’ and like I should’ve communicated more, I know, but—fuck, I just, please don’t be mad at me if I wanna jerk off but not have sex with you.”

“Hoseok,” Jimin says, and Hoseok looks up and realizes that he’s kind of cowering against the wall, and Yoongi and Jimin are looking at him with horror and empathy, respectively.

“Oh,” Hoseok says. “Sorry. Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to—must still be the Bad Day stuff, um—”

“No way,” Yoongi says. “Stop. Don’t apologize even a little bit. Your ex is fucked up, and you are totally fucking asexual because you make that designation, not anyone else. And if you want to jerk off in front of us every goddamn day and never have sex with us beyond that, then we will fucking love that, and we will not put fucking restrictions or expectations on you or your body or your expression of sexuality or—or gender, or whatever you wanna express, anything. I don’t know. Whatever. Point is, we will give you whatever you need because this is a fucking supportive relationship, and yeah, we definitely have to communicate, but we’re going to, even if it’s difficult because we’re all different people.”

“Right,” Jimin says. “We love each other, and we’re not just going to stop loving each other. And Hobi-hyung, seriously, I know I don’t need to, like, affirm your asexuality, but seriously, you are asexual and I know that because you told me, and that’s the end of it. Everything Yoongi said. All of it.”

“Yeah, Hope,” Yoongi says. “You’re—fuck, please come snuggle with me and fall asleep with your head on my chest because I fucking love you and I want you to be okay.”

Hoseok blinks, kind of blown away and breathless and overwhelmed. “I love it when you call me ‘Hope’,” he says, because for some reason that’s all he can say. “I love it and I love you, and I love you, Jiminie.”

Jimin throws himself at Yoongi and Hoseok, and all three of them fall back against the mattress and snuggle down together and exchange more I love yous and no one stops touching him, not for a single second. Which was what Hoseok had needed all along, and he hadn’t asked for it—Taehyung had, Hoseok realizes when he thinks back through everything.

He looks over and sees Jeongguk snuggling into Taehyung’s neck, Taehyung’s arms tight around Jeongguk’s shoulders, the older boy protecting his soulmate even in his sleep.

Taehyung. The whole thing had kind of revolved around Taehyung, hadn’t it? Taehyung, taking care of everyone without anyone even realizing it, because it’s so natural and normal for things to be that way.

How have they never noticed? Hoseok wonders. Taehyung isn’t the youngest or the oldest or the leader or the anything-est, and maybe they’ve all been kind of taking him for granted.

“Hey, Jiminie? Yoongi-hyung?” Hoseok whispers before he falls asleep.

“Yeah?” Yoongi responds. Jimin only hums.

“You ever notice how Taehyung is like, secretly keeping track of all of us and caring for us and we’re really bad at giving him any acknowledgement?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “Why do you think I wanted him to give me a hickey earlier? I wanted a reminder that I’m under the care of Taehyung because he’s a literal brownie, like, the fairy kind, the ones who do all your chores for you when you’re sleeping and take care of the house and you don’t even realize it.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says. “We should buy Taehyung some ice cream.”

“Get him that rainbow cake from that one shop in Myeongdong,” Yoongi says. “The one with the pink and lavender chairs, with the mirrors and the Bambi painting on the second floor where the seating is.”

“Hey, don’t mention Bambi!” Hoseok teases. “I wasn’t allowed to see it as a child!”

“Yeah, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin says. “Don’t worry, Hobi-hyung, you and I can go buy Taehyung the cake and we won’t go on the second floor because I don’t want you to be subjected to reminders of your Bambi-free childhood.”

Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles a little, and his arm tightens around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll go with you guys and buy you a slice of caramel cake. Or red velvet. Which one did you guys like better?”

“I wanted the cherry tart,” Hoseok complains. “We can rock-paper-scissors for it.”

“Okay,” Jimin says. “I promise I’ll eat it, and I won’t feel even a little bit bad about it.”

“Oh,” Hoseok says, and Yoongi sits up enough that he can press a long, tongue-involving kiss against Jimin’s lips.

“That makes me really happy, sunshine,” Yoongi says to Jimin, who blushes so dark Hoseok can see it even in the dim moonlight filtering in through the window. “But it’s okay, you know. If you feel bad.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says. “You don’t have to feel bad for, like, feeling bad. You know?”

“You make me happy,” Jimin says, a soft smile gracing his lips. “You too, Yoongi-hyung.”

“What Jimin said, Hope,” Yoongi says. “But let’s go to sleep now, because I’m tired and apparently we now have plans to go to Myeongdong for cake tomorrow.”

“After I’m done with work! I’ll meet you there and it’ll be right after Hobi-hyung’s appointment, right? So it’s perfect!” Jimin says.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, looking at Hoseok. “I’m gonna go with you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says. “Yeah, okay. Doctor’s appointment, and then Myeongdong cake shop with Bambi on the second floor with my two favorite humans. And then surprise Tae with cake, because he really fucking deserves it.”

“Let’s just bring a whole cake home for everyone,” Yoongi says.

“The rainbow one! Because it’s Taehyung’s fave!” Jimin chirps.

There’s a knock at the door, which has been open the whole time, Hoseok realizes. Namjoon and Seokjin are standing in the doorway, and they look fond and domestic and perfectly matched, not touching, but the air between them the more intimate for it, like they don’t even have to touch to still be 100 percent in touch with each other.

“You guys are still up?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi looks at his watch. “Dude. It’s fucking 10:30. Tae and Gukkie just passed out, and you guys are legit senior citizens, so you go to bed at this hour and think it’s late.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Jimin says. “This whole thing started at, like, 6:00. It hasn’t been that long, guys.”

“Senior citizens?” Namjoon says, apparently hung up on that. “I’m younger than you, Yoongi-hyung!”

“Yeah, and I’m also an old man, and I’m going to sleep now. I’m going to Hobi’s appointment with him tomorrow.”

Namjoon sighs and stands up from where he’s slumped against the door, finally reaching up to touch Seokjin’s shoulder. “Come on, dear. The kids want their parents to retire for the evening. It’s well past their bedtime, so they better go to sleep and not stay up all night talking.”

“We’ll hear,” Seokjin says. “Our room is right next door. No illicit activities.”

“Illicit?” Yoongi says. “Jeongguk and Taehyung are literally in the room! They have not consented to being part of some exhibitionist thing or a five-some.”

“They probably would if you woke them up and asked,” Seokjin says, grinning. “They’re the most sexually adventurous of all of us. Don’t you remember that whole thing about roleplaying GD and TOP?”

Yoongi and Hoseok groan, and Jimin giggles.

“Don’t remind us, hyung,” Hoseok says, snuggling into Yoongi’s side. “Hey, will you turn on the nightlight in the hall? I forgot to do it earlier.”

“Yeah, of course, honey,” Seokjin says. “You guys want a lullaby, or can you sing each other to sleep?”

Hoseok smiles. “I want a lullaby from you and Namjoonie, please.”

“No,” Namjoon says. “No way, we all know my rapping is better than my singing and—”

“Come on, all together! Something we all know!”

“Fine,” Namjoon says, and then he starts humming “O! Holy Night” because Namjoon is a not-even-closeted Christmas fanatic.

It’s a good song, and they hum because they don’t know the words, but they’re pretty good at the harmonies, which is awesome. When they get to the chorus, Hoseok almost expects Taehyung and Jeongguk to wake up and join in, but they stay oblivious and asleep.

“Well,” Seokjin says, sitting on the edge of the mattress next to Namjoon, because they’d moved there in the middle of the song. “Goodnight, all of you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Namjoon says, and they stand and it’s—wow, maybe a little bit too parent-y, but Hoseok can’t help but kind of like it.

“Goodnight,” everyone murmurs, and then Seokjin and Namjoon leave. A second later, the nightlight flicks on out in the hall, and Hoseok smiles.

“Hey, you wanna listen to some music before we actually fall asleep?” Yoongi asks. “I have a craving for a late-night music appreciation session.”

“Okay, yes,” Jimin says, and Hoseok hums, and Yoongi pulls his Bluetooth speaker off the nightstand and starts playing a familiar song, probably from the mellow fall-asleep playlist that Hoseok knows and loves, the one reserved for this kind of listening, late at night in each other’s arms, sleepy and probably going to drift off by the middle of the second track.

“Love you,” Hoseok says.

“Love you,” Jimin says.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says. “I love you. Also you’re interrupting the best part of this song so I’m starting it over.”

Hoseok laughs. “Yeah, okay, glad to know we’re appreciated,” he says, but all he feels is affection in his heart.

“Go to sleep, Hope. Chimchim.”

Jimin hums, and Hoseok giggles, and Yoongi grumbles and starts the song over again.

It is a pretty nice song, Hoseok thinks, and then, all of a sudden, he realizes it: it’s one of Namjoon and Yoongi’s songs, the one they’ve been struggling with for a couple of weeks, and the voice on the track—

The voice on the track is Hoseok’s, and he’s singing about being in love, and they’re lyrics he wrote. A part he hadn’t even known would end up in the song. It sounds better than anything Hoseok has ever sung before.

“Wait, the best part?” Hoseok whispers in the darkness, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” Yoongi whispers. “The best part of the song.”

He starts it over one more time. Hoseok bites his lip to hide his grin, but after a second he thinks about it and changes his mind. He buries his head in Jimin’s neck, and presses back against Yoongi’s chest on his other side, and lets himself smile as wide as he can.