Work Text:
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Monday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
Kim Seokjin is the most annoying person on the entire planet.
Yoongi isn’t going to pretend like he thinks otherwise. He can’t stand Seokjin. He can’t stand a single thing about the man– which is very unfortunate considering they’re coworkers.
In a perfect world, Yoongi would simply avoid Seokjin at work. But perfection is unattainable, and fate is unavoidable, and now they’re partnered together on a project all because Seokjin couldn’t keep his mouth shut about how funny it would be if he and Yoongi worked together.
Ugh.
Yoongi is fucking over Kim Seokjin.
He hates that he’s even thinking about Seokjin as he goes into work on Monday morning. Monday mornings should be reserved for drinking coffee and mourning the loss of the weekend, but instead he’s dreading walking into the office and seeing Seokjin already sauntering around cracking obnoxious jokes, or laughing obnoxiously at said jokes, or goofing off obnoxiously as he gets his fifth cup of coffee of the day.
Very pointedly, Yoongi ignores the little voice in the back of his mind that supplies another reason why he doesn’t want to see Seokjin, because the little voice is wrong about Seokjin’s annoyingly handsome face, and Seokjin does not always look goddamn perfect.
So, Yoongi walks into the office on Monday morning with dread in the pit of his stomach. But Seokjin isn’t sauntering around the office cracking obnoxious jokes, or laughing obnoxiously at said jokes, or goofing off obnoxiously as he gets his sixth cup of coffee of the day.
No, he’s not doing any of that.
Instead, he’s sitting at his desk. Actually sitting in his desk chair, facing his laptop– except his laptop is closed, and Seokjin’s head is in his hands, his shoulders all hunched over.
Yoongi stops short. Something is not right, and something way too close to worry fills his chest.
Not that he could ever let Seokjin know that.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Seokjin groans loudly and turns around halfway, waving one hand dismissively. “Go away, Yoongi-ssi.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Yoongi repeats, stepping closer instead when Seokjin leans over to rest his cheek on his desk.
“It’s…a really terrible disease. There’s no known cure.”
“He has a cold!” A voice chirps from Yoongi’s left. He looks over to see the intern– Jungho? Jongkook?– peering at him with wide, curious eyes. “So, technically, he’s right that there’s no known cure!”
Seokjin lifts his head and squints. “Scram, Jungkookie!”
“I have your medicine,” Jungkook replies without blinking. “The liquid kind, ‘cause you can’t swallow the big pills–”
“Jungkook!” Seokjin’s voice cracks pathetically. “Just– bring it here, then.”
Yoongi watches in shock as Jungkook carries a huge canvas shopping tote over to Seokjin’s desk and begins emptying it out. There are several bottles of brightly colored liquid medicine, three boxes of tissues, a six-pack of electrolyte drink and a large bag of tangerines.
“Thank you,” Seokjin whispers hoarsely.
Jungkook puts his hand across Seokjin’s forehead. He chews on his bottom lip and he looks about two seconds away from crying or something.
“You’ve got the intern doing your grocery shopping for you?” Yoongi clamps his mouth shut, but the words have already tumbled out.
Jungkook turns and narrows his eyes at Yoongi in what might be a glare. It’s the same exact expression Yoongi’s three-year-old niece gets on her face when her eomma tells her she can’t eat ice cream before supper– including the pink cheeks and pouty lips.
“Easy, Jungkookie,” Seokjin murmurs. “It’s fine.”
Spinning back to face Seokjin, Jungkook drops down into a squat. “You’d be fine if you were at home resting, hyung,” Yoongi hears him say. “I’ll be checking on you in an hour from now.”
Jungkookie. Hyung. Since when have Seokjin and the intern been using such familiar terms with each other?
In a tone so quiet Yoongi is pretty certain he’s not supposed to hear it, Seokjin tells Jungkook, “I’m only here until two. I have an appointment this afternoon. I promise I’ll be fine until then, okay?”
Jungkook nods and takes his now-empty tote bag back. He shoots Yoongi another glare, his nose scrunching up a little too cutely for it to be intimidating, and then turns around and leaves.
After Jungkook is gone, Yoongi doesn’t really know what to do.
He finally makes his way to his desk– right next to Seokjin’s desk, unfortunately– and sits down. He sets his bag down and opens his laptop and starts arranging all of his things just the way he likes them– neat and tidy and organized.
And Seokjin just– sits there. Glassy eyed and red nosed and sad looking.
It’s not right at all.
“Why are you even here?” Yoongi blurts out before he can stop himself.
Seokjin straightens his posture, which visibly takes effort. “Some of us aren’t rich like you, Yoongi-ssi.” He sniffles, the sound thick and congested. “Speaking of,” he mutters as an afterthought, “I don’t know how I’m gonna pay Jungkookie back for all of this stuff.”
It takes Yoongi a moment to realize he’s talking about the tissues and other supplies. He thinks about the stack of 50,000 won bills he currently has in his wallet, and before he even registers what’s happening, he opens his mouth and says, “I’ll pay Jungkook.”
“Holy fuck,” Seokjin spits out. “I think I’m running a fever. I swear I just heard you say…” He shakes his head and then leans forward to put his forehead against the surface of his desk, a trembling exhale puffing out of his mouth. “Fuck…”
Yoongi has never, ever heard Seokjin swear before, so he might actually be right about the fever.
For a moment, both of them are silent. Well, Yoongi is silent. Seokjin is making a strange sound every time he exhales– it’s uncomfortably clear he can’t breathe through his nose.
“I think you should go home,” Yoongi says. “Or literally anywhere else but here. You’re spreading your germs all over the place.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I’m poor?” Seokjin quips back tiredly, reaching for one of the boxes of tissues. “I can’t just afford to not be at work.”
It takes him several attempts to get the box open, and then a full minute to pull one single tissue out. Yoongi shudders at the thought of watching Seokjin use said tissue, so he quickly stands and makes a beeline for the break room so he can get himself a cup of coffee.
When he returns, Seokjin hasn’t moved. He’s still sitting at his desk, looking somehow even more pathetic than before, his cheek resting on his folded arms. There are no less than seven crumpled tissues surrounding him already.
“It’s not like you’re actually going to get any work done anyway,” Yoongi blurts as he sits back down. “Might as well go home and suffer there, where the rest of us don’t have to watch you.”
It occurs to him that Seokjin always arrives before him and leaves after him, so he has absolutely no clue how Seokjin commutes to work. If he drives, there’s no way he’d be able to safely operate a vehicle in his current condition. Maybe he gets a ride from someone. He’s sure Jungkookie knows. Hell, maybe it’s Jungkook who gives him a ride.
“How do you usually get to work?” He asks, because for some reason he hasn’t already learned way too much about Seokjin today.
Seokjin coughs once. Openly. Into the office air. “I take the bus, of course.”
“Of course.” Yoongi sighs.
He drags a hand down his face. He stares down at his mug of coffee, still steaming hot. He listens to Seokjin’s obnoxious, wheezy, sickly breathing.
And then, he stands up and starts gathering his stuff. “I’ll drive you home then.”
Seokjin doesn’t move an inch. He just stays with his head on his arms and his eyes closed, loudly breathing through his mouth.
Yoongi reaches for his wallet. “Actually, wait here. I’ll be right back.”
It takes an embarrassingly long time for Yoongi to find Jungkook, because he has no clue where the interns actually spend their day. He finally spots him sitting in an empty conference room, typing away on his laptop.
He takes a couple of bills out of his wallet and walks into the conference room.
“Uh, here,” he says, holding the bills out to Jungkook. “For Seokjin’s…stuff.”
Jungkook stares at him like he’s grown a second head.
“He was worrying about paying you back,” Yoongi explains. His cheeks are suddenly warm. “It didn’t seem right for him to worry about that when he’s already so pathetic.”
“Keep your rich Daddy’s money,” Jungkook scoffs. “I don’t need it.”
“My Daddy–? Excuse you, but I’ll have you know that this is my hard-earned money! And my appa died when I was a child, you asshole.”
Jungkook shrugs and crosses his arms. “Okay, you’re not special. Both of my parents are dead and you don’t see me complaining about it.”
Yoongi sputters for a second, his arm still outstretched. “You’re…you’re worse than Seokjin! Who the fuck hired you anyway, Intern?”
“Oh? You think you’re better than me, just because I’m an intern?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “People like you are the reason hell exists.”
Yoongi’s jaw drops open.
“And by the way, my name is Jungkook. Jung. Kook! Not Intern.”
Before Yoongi can respond, an obnoxiously loud sneeze rings through the air no less than a foot away from Yoongi’s right ear, and he jumps a foot in the air.
“Excuse me,” Seokjin sniffles from behind a giant wad of tissues. “Woah, that one was a doozy. I might need to sit down…”
“Hyung!” Jungkook shoves past Yoongi, rushing to Seokjin’s side as he starts to sway back and forth on his feet, and grabs him under one arm. “Here, come sit down.”
Jungkook guides Seokjin into the conference room and helps him into a chair. “Did you take some of the medicine? Maybe I should call the doctor and see if we can move your appointment up?”
“No, no,” Seokjin replies dismissively. “I’m fine. I just need to let this small wave of dizziness pass. As long as I don’t sneeze again, I’ll be totally fine.”
“I really think I should take him home,” Yoongi says from the doorway.
Jungkook looks over sharply, a hint of surprise flashing across his face before it’s replaced with anger.
“Like I would trust you to take him home.”
“Okay. Are you able to take him home then?”
Jungkook frowns. “Well, no, I don’t have a car…”
“Jungkookie,” Seokjin whispers. “It’s okay. Yoongi-ssi can take me home.”
“Hyung, he’s a terrible person. A really, really terrible person!”
“Wow, Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin says. He chuckles, which makes him cough weakly. “You got someone as sweet as Jungkookie to call you a terrible person. You must have done something pretty bad to get that. I have to say, I’m impressed. Not surprised, though.”
Sweet? Yoongi bites his tongue to hold back a retort as he watches Jungkook put his hands on Seokjin’s shoulders.
“I’m only agreeing to this because you’re really pale. And because you shouldn’t even be here in the first place.” Jungkook then pulls out his phone. “I’m ordering food to be delivered to your house right now. Don’t forget to take the medicine and tissues with you. Those are a gift, by the way,” he adds, shooting Yoongi another withering glance. “Because I know you’d do the same for me.”
“He’s right,” Seokjin sighs wearily, looking up at Yoongi with eyes that are a little too unfocused. “I have to bring him homemade soup and cough syrup every three months or so because his immune system is nonexistent–”
“Hyung!”
“I mean it, Jungkookie. I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need it. Because you’re a good kid, and you’re precious to me, and you’re the best intern I’ve ever known.”
“That’s the fever talking, hyung,” Jungkook says, a slightly embarrassed yet amused smile on his face.
Yoongi clears his throat. “This is, uh, really heartwarming and all, but I think we should get going now.”
Seokjin nods and stands. Jungkook hovers next to him, eyeing Yoongi distrustfully.
“Text me when you get home,” he says to Seokjin. “After he leaves.”
Seokjin reaches up and pats Jungkook on the top of his head. “Will do. You’re gonna kill it in the meeting today. Good luck.”
Yoongi has no clue what the fuck meeting they’re talking about. He waits for Seokjin to say goodbye to Jungkook and then turns to lead him back towards the offices.
At his desk, Seokjin starts shoving things into his bag, pausing when he gets to the medicine. “Guess I should probably take some of this.”
“Right now?” Yoongi asks, resisting the urge to tap his foot impatiently.
“I guess I could just cough and sneeze all over the inside of your car…”
“Fine. Just take it so we can go.”
Seokjin picks at the sealed bottle of liquid medicine. Yoongi can see that his hands are shaking as he tries, unsuccessfully, to open it.
After watching him attempt to get it open for a minute, Yoongi wordlessly grabs the bottle and peels the plastic seal off, then unscrews the lid. He pours a dose into the little cup and hands it over to Seokjin.
“Bottoms up!” Seokjin says with a surprisingly cheery voice before knocking the medicine back like it’s a shot of alcohol.
He starts coughing immediately after.
Yoongi grabs one of the electrolyte drinks still sitting on Seokjin’s desk and opens the lid.
“Here, drink some of this,” he instructs, placing the bottle into Seokjin’s hand.
Seokjin shoots him a grateful thumbs up and sips the drink until he’s no longer hacking away. He slowly finishes packing up, stopping no less than four times to blow his nose loudly into a tissue.
It’s the worst thing Yoongi’s ever heard in his entire life.
Yoongi washes his hands and puts on a mask before they make their way to the parking garage. Seokjin puts on a mask too, pulling it out from one of his pockets. A crumpled tissue falls out with it.
In the car, Yoongi is so tense his muscles start to ache. Seokjin is completely silent in the passenger seat. Well, except for his loud-ass breathing. Yoongi cringes internally at the congested, crackly sound his lungs are making.
Luckily for both of them, the drive is short. Yoongi is surprised when he pulls up in front of the address Seokjin gives him and sees a fairly nice house with a well-manicured lawn out front.
Seokjin takes his sweet time unbuckling and opening the car door. He gathers up all of his stuff, takes a deep breath, and then gets out of the car, pausing to take another deep breath before he closes the door and starts walking slowly towards his house.
Yoongi almost drives away right then.
Instead, he lets out a long sigh and then turns his car off. Seokjin has only made it halfway to the door by the time Yoongi catches up with him. He doesn’t seem at all surprised when Yoongi walks with him and then takes his keys from his trembling grip to unlock the door for him.
“I’m not letting you pass out and miss more work than you need to. There’s no way I’m doing the entire project by myself,” Yoongi says by way of explanation, even though Seokjin still hasn’t said a single word.
Seokjin’s face is flushed and his coughing has become more frequent despite having taken medicine. He half-walks, half-stumbles into his living room, and Yoongi follows because there’s something that’s making him– some strange kind of feeling in his chest that won’t let him leave until he’s sure Seokjin is going to be okay on his own.
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi?” Seokjin says as he wraps a blanket around himself and plops down onto his couch, still dressed in his work clothes.
“What?”
“I know you hate me, but do you think you could take it easy on my brother?”
“Huh? Your brother?”
“Yeah, Jungkookie? Looks like he’s about fourteen-years-old but he’s actually twenty-four? Dark hair, real self-sacrificing personality? One of our interns? I swear you were just talking with him today but I don’t know if that was a fever dream or what…”
“Jungkook is your brother?”
“I mean, technically he’s my half brother. And before you ask– no, I’m not the reason he got the internship. I had no clue he even applied.”
Now that Yoongi’s thinking about it, he has no idea how he missed that Jungkook is Seokjin’s brother. It makes a lot of sense– they’re both very similar to each other. And both huge pains in his ass.
“I don’t hate you,” he mumbles, watching as Seokjin grabs another blanket to drape over himself.
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “You spend your entire work day glaring at me or insulting me or trying to avoid me. And that’s totally fine, I can take it. But Jungkook…he’s sensitive. He’s a good kid.”
Yoongi snorts. “Sure he is.”
“Just…promise me you'll take it easy on him?”
He’s not sure why, but Yoongi finds himself nodding. “Fine. Now, do you need anything else before I go?”
“Hm.” Seokjin’s eyes drift shut. He shivers under his blanket, and after a moment, he shakes his head.
“Okay. I’m going to get going then. Don’t forget to text Jungkook, or whatever.”
“Hey, Yoongi-ssi?”
“What?”
“Thanks for bringing me home. I appreciate it. Nice to know you have a soul after all.”
“You’re so obnoxious,” Yoongi mutters, rolling his eyes. Then, softly– like he’s afraid someone other than Seokjin might hear him– he adds, “Feel better soon.”
Racing back towards the front door, Yoongi doesn’t spare a glance back, and Seokjin doesn’t say anything further before he leaves.
Yoongi doesn’t go straight back to work. He gets in his car and rolls down all of the windows to air out all of the germs, and then uses his tiny car bottle of hand sanitizer, smothering his hands in the sharp-smelling liquid.
His heart is racing for some inexplicable reason, hammering away in his chest long after he turns on the ignition and starts driving. He ends up in front of a café that he’s never been to before. It’s around the block from work and as Yoongi parks and steps out, he looks around, on high alert in case anyone from the office decides to also skip out on work and come get coffee.
He doesn’t see anyone he knows. The café is nearly empty, save for some elderly patrons. Yoongi orders an iced Americano to go but then sits down at one of the tables with it, staring out the window as he tries to process everything that’s happened already on this very long, very odd Monday morning.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Tuesday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
The next morning, Yoongi walks into a very, very quiet office. He’s on time but it seems that several other coworkers are not– including Seokjin.
Not that Yoongi was expecting to see him today. He’s glad Seokjin had enough sense to stay home.
What he’s not happy about is the fact that his mind keeps drifting to Seokjin all morning. Every time he glances up and sees Seokjin’s empty desk, every time he hears a faint cough somewhere in the office, he can’t help but think of how sick and miserable Seokjin had looked the day before.
It’s not that Yoongi is worried. It’s just that it’s…inconvenient. He frowns at his screen and mutters a soft curse under his breath. They have a project they’re supposed to be working on together.
Yoongi briefly considers tracking Jungkook down to ask him about Seokjin’s condition, but he doesn’t see Jungkook for the entire day either, not even when he walks by the conference room he’d been in yesterday.
By the time he’s packing up all of his stuff and shutting his laptop off, Yoongi has hardly gotten a single thing done. He rubs his temples and glances around the empty office, wishing for a distraction, anything to get his mind off of Kim Seokjin. The man is already obnoxious at work– Yoongi doesn’t need him coming home with him too.
As he walks to his car, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts his friend Namjoon. Namjoon is the kind of friend who will give Yoongi an hour’s worth of advice if asked, but will otherwise distract Yoongi with interesting conversation and not pry at all, even if he picks up on the fact that Yoongi’s mind is clearly elsewhere.
Namjoon texts him back right away and invites Yoongi over for beers and fried chicken. Yoongi’s shoulders relax at the message, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stops by his house first to change out of his work clothes and then makes his way towards Namjoon’s apartment on foot, hoping the distraction of a few drinks and good company will help him forget about the unwelcome worry that’s still growing in his chest.
☕💼🤒💊💼☕
Yoongi steps into Namjoon’s apartment with a grin on his face. It’s been too long since he’s been able to hang out properly with his best friend. The smell of fried chicken wafts through the air and it makes Yoongi’s stomach grumble loudly.
Namjoon meets him in the kitchen with a beer ready. He eyes the obvious tension in Yoongi’s shoulders. “Rough day?”
Yoongi shrugs, trying to seem casual, but he’s always been bad at hiding his true feelings from Namjoon. “It’s nothing. Just…work stuff.”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Work stuff?” He asks. Not probing, but prompting.
“It’s this guy at work. My coworker, Seokjin. Have I told you about him before?”
Something that looks like amusement flashes across Namjoon’s face. “Yeah, I think you’ve mentioned him a time or two…”
Yoongi exhales heavily. “Well, he’s obnoxious. Obnoxious and annoying. I can’t stand him, Joon. His desk is right across from mine, and we’re partnered on a project together– his idea.”
He follows Namjoon into the living room, where they sit down on the couch together.
“Sounds rough,” Namjoon offers sympathetically.
Yoongi clears his throat a couple of times. He’s not sure why he’s ranting about Seokjin to Namjoon. He came here for a distraction from thinking about Seokjin. Still, he can’t stop the words from spilling out.
“He came into work on Monday sick. Like, really sick. I thought he was gonna pass out or something. I ended up driving him home.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“He wasn’t at work again today.”
“Because he’s still sick?” Namjoon guesses.
“Yeah,” Yoongi nods and takes a long sip of beer. “But it’s just kind of inconvenient, you know? We have this project to work on and I don’t know when he’ll be back. I couldn’t focus today because of him.”
Namjoon leans back, crossing his arms. The corner of his mouth twitches, but Yoongi doesn’t notice.
“Sounds like you might be a little worried about him.”
Yoongi stiffens. “I’m not worried about him.”
“Mm-hmm,” Namjoon says, leaning forward slightly. “Do you perhaps have non-coworkerly feelings for Seokjin?”
Yoongi’s eyes widen, and he chokes on a laugh. “The fuck? No! Absolutely not. Of course not. He’s…he’s impossible, okay? That’s all.”
Namjoon grins knowingly. “Okay.”
Yoongi groans, covering his face with both hands. “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t need this.”
Namjoon chuckles. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing. But you’re clearly stressed. And you clearly have some stuff to get off your chest about him, so feel free to unload if you need to.”
Pressing the back of his hand to his flushed cheek, Yoongi looks away and finishes the rest of his beer.
“Did I tell you I met up with Jung Hoseok last weekend?” Namjoon asks casually, changing the subject.
“Jung Hoseok? That dancer guy you went to grade school with?”
“That’s the one. Apparently he’s living in Seoul now.”
“No shit.” Yoongi turns back to Namjoon just in time to see him trying to school a goofy grin off his face. “No shit, Joon? Did you hook up with him?”
“Not yet,” Namjoon mutters, his face turning bright red. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Jumping off the couch, Namjoon disappears into the kitchen to grab the chicken and two more beers. When he returns, his face is no less red, but he looks happy– happy in a way Yoongi hasn’t seen him in a long time.
“You have to tell me how you reconnected with Hoseok,” Yoongi urges softly, opening another beer. “Did he reach out to you first?”
“Actually, I reached out to him about a month ago,” Namjoon admits around a mouthful of chicken. “I saw him at Jimin’s showcase.”
“Damn. That sounds like fate, Joon.”
“He was beautiful on stage, Yoongi. He’s so graceful, so powerful…” Namjoon trails off, seemingly lost in thought as he recounts the performance.
Yoongi lets out a small, genuine laugh, relaxing into the couch as he takes a sip of his beer.
“Sounds like he’s a great performer,” he says, watching Namjoon carefully. “I’m really happy that you were able to meet up with him again after all this time.
“Me too.”
For the first time all day, Yoongi’s thoughts of Seokjin fade just enough for him to breathe. He grabs another piece of chicken and leans against Namjoon’s side, rolling his eyes as Namjoon gushes about how endearing Hoseok finds his clumsiness, and lets his chest fill with the warmth of alcohol and good company and Namjoon’s hopeful love.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Wednesday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
Yoongi is only a little late to work on Wednesday morning. He’s miraculously not hungover- likely thanks to Namjoon’s insistence on staying hydrated the night before– but he’s unusually tired as he trudges towards his desk.
Seokjin’s desk is still empty. Yoongi sinks down into his office chair and stares at the empty space for an embarrassingly long few minutes before he opens his laptop and starts unpacking his bag.
The day drags by. Every task Yoongi tries to start doesn’t quite get finished before he’s onto the next, desperate to try to distract his mind. By the time afternoon rolls around he’s feeling fatigued and over-caffeinated thanks to the several cups of coffee he’s consumed.
“Hello, Sunbaenim.”
Startled, Yoongi turns his chair around and sees Jungkook standing there, bowing deeply towards him. As he straightens up, Yoongi notices he has the same canvas tote bag he’d been carrying on Monday. It’s filled with even more items this time, but Yoongi can see that it’s more of the same– multiple boxes of tissues and a big bag of tangerines that are nearly overflowing out the top.
Clearing his throat, Yoongi tears his eyes away from the bag to look at Jungkook’s face and is nearly caught off guard by how innocent and kind Jungkook’s wide eyes are. Any snappy retort dies in his throat.
“Uh, Jungkook-ssi. Hello.”
“Hello,” Jungkook repeats, bowing again. He blinks his big eyes at Yoongi but doesn’t say anything further.
“Um, how can I help you?”
It seems to be the prompt Jungkook is waiting for. “I was wondering if you could please do me a favor?” He asks, bending forward with yet another bow. His politeness is almost startling given their interaction with each other earlier in the week.
But, Yoongi can’t find it in him to remind Jungkook that he’d recently called Yoongi a terrible person, not when he’s standing here looking so sweet and polite.
“Sure, what can I do?” Yoongi asks. He has a feeling he knows what the favor is. “As long as this isn’t some kind of trick,” he adds cautiously, just in case.
“Look,” Jungkook sighs, lowering his voice. “There’s a reason you offered to drive my brother home the other day. I think it’s because you actually do have a heart, despite your…attitude.” He smirks. “Either that, or you wanted to go to his house so you could rob him?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just looking out for my hyung.”
Yoongi huffs out an exasperated breath. “You’re giving me whiplash, kid.”
Jungkook nods seriously, his expression smoothing out into something decidedly less bratty. “Hyung says I’m like a Sour Patch Kid, ‘cause I’m sour and sweet.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Yoongi mutters.
Jungkook holds the bag out. He still hasn’t outright asked Yoongi to bring it to Seokjin, but Yoongi can imply that’s the favor he’s asking.
“I don’t have a car,” Jungkook continues, batting his eyelashes a few times.
“Okay.”
Jungkook blinks his big eyes a few more times. His eyes remind Yoongi of Seokjin’s eyes. He wonders, briefly, if they have the same eomma or the same appa. And how he missed the fact that they’re related to each other.
“I would greatly appreciate your help, Yoongi-sunbaenim.”
“Do you want me to drive you there so you can deliver it yourself?” Yoongi asks, already anticipating what Jungkook’s answer will be.
“I can’t leave during the day,” Jungkook replies, chewing on his bottom lip and looking worried at the very thought.
“So you want me to drive it over there and leave it on his porch?”
“He’s not doing well,” Jungkook says. “I mean, he texted that he’s totally fine and that I shouldn’t worry, but I know he’s just saying that. Hyung never gets sick.”
Yoongi sighs. “Is that so?”
“If you could just check on him, too?”
Yoongi stands and takes the bag from Jungkook. “I’ll drive it over there and leave it on his porch,” he says. “I’ll make sure he opens the door, but that’s it–”
Suddenly, Jungkook is ducking down and awkwardly wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist. “Thank you, Yoongi-sunbaenim. Thank you so much!”
“Oof! Easy kid,” Yoongi mutters, wiggling out of Jungkook’s grasp.
“You’re the best,” Jungkook gushes.
“You’re…confusing,” Yoongi counters, but Jungkook is already walking away, flashing Yoongi a huge smile and a thumbs up until he has to turn to avoid crashing into a wall.
After Jungkook leaves, Yoongi looks through the bag. There’s an entire pharmacy aisle’s worth of medicine in there and entirely too many boxes of tissues. And there’s no way anyone, not even someone as obnoxious as Seokjin, could possibly ever drink this amount of electrolyte drink.
Yoongi glances over at his opened laptop and then down at the bag again. He’s not off for another two hours, but he’s almost certain he won’t be getting any more work done for the day, so he starts packing up early and texts his boss that he’ll be taking the rest of the afternoon off.
☕💼🤒💊💼☕
Yoongi drives straight to Seokjin’s house after he leaves the office.
As soon as he’s parked in front of his house he realizes he has no clue if Seokjin knows he’s coming or not. He can easily imagine Jungkook forgetting to give him a heads up.
He pauses for a moment before knocking on the door. If he’s lucky, Seokjin won’t answer and he can actually leave the bag of supplies on his doorstep.
Yoongi has never really been all that lucky.
The door creaks as it’s opened slowly, hesitantly. Seokjin’s face appears in the crack and Yoongi instantly feels a surge of worry. Seokjin looks pathetically sick, half-asleep, and yet somehow he’s still good-looking– not that Yoongi thinks that Seokjin is good-looking, but, still…he has a conventionally attractive face and even Yoongi can’t deny something like that.
In an attempt to quell such traitorous thoughts, Yoongi blurts out, “You look like shit.”
“What are you doing here, Yoongi-ssi?” Seokjin asks after a moment, his voice half gone.
“I have a delivery from your brother,” Yoongi quickly explains, holding up the bag.
“Huh.” Seokjin’s gaze drifts down to the bag, and then back up to Yoongi’s face. His eyes are red and slightly glazed over, watery like he’s been crying recently.
Yoongi shifts back and forth between his feet, flushing under Seokjin’s gaze. He’s still holding the bag out but Seokjin isn’t making any move to take it from him.
“Okay,” Seokjin finally croaks, turning around and disappearing back into the house and leaving the door wide open behind him.
“...Okay?” Yoongi takes a hesitant step inside. “Do you want to…take this?”
Seokjin doesn’t answer and he doesn’t turn around. He shuffles down the hallway and disappears around a corner. For a moment, Yoongi just stands there, dumbfounded. Then, he steps inside and closes the door behind him, slipping his shoes off in the entryway.
“Your brother is really worried about you,” he says once he rounds the living room and sees Seokjin plopping down onto the couch. “He bought you a lot of stuff.”
When Seokjin doesn’t answer, Yoongi sighs and goes into the kitchen to unpack said stuff. The whole place is a bit of a mess and he has the urge to start cleaning. As he sets everything out onto the counter, he notices that there are now duplicates of most of the bottles of medicine– daytime cold medicine, nighttime cold medicine, cough syrup, fever reducers– and he starts to wonder if Jungkook has ever taken care of a sick person before.
Quietly, Yoongi gathers some of the dishes from the counter and piles them into the sink. He can’t help but give in to his urge to do a little cleaning, and ends up wiping down the counters too, sneaking peeks around the corner to check that Seokjin is still on the couch.
He brings a box of tissues back out to the living room when he’s done. Seokjin is dozing on the couch, his eyes closed and his mouth open. There are more dishes on the coffee table that Yoongi gathers and carries into the kitchen to add to the growing pile in the sink.
Next, Yoongi takes all of the medicine into the bathroom. There’s a door right across the hallway that Yoongi is almost certain is Seokjin’s room. He pauses just outside the door, which is open just a crack, but something stops him from opening it to look inside. It feels too intimate– he doesn’t think he wants to know what Seokjin’s bed looks like, or heaven forbid accidentally conjure up an image of Seokjin in said bed.
As quickly as he can, he shoves the bottles of medicine into the medicine cabinet above the sink and then returns to the living room. Seokjin is still asleep on the couch. He looks really young with his face relaxed in sleep, wearing his pajamas and bundled up in a blanket. He also looks really…not as annoying. And somehow still incredibly handsome, which just isn’t fair, because Yoongi has seen himself in the mirror when he’s sick and he looks disgusting.
Seokjin, however, is the opposite of disgusting. He looks handsome, but also small and vulnerable and Yoongi isn’t exactly sure what to do with all of these sudden thoughts.
“Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath.
Seokjin doesn’t react. He’s completely out now, snoring away softly. Yoongi is about to turn away when he notices Seokjin is shivering a little. Reaching out slowly, he settles his palm on Seokjin’s forehead. He’s warm, but Yoongi isn’t sure if it’s fever-warm or just sleep warm. Yoongi can always tell with himself if he has a fever just by a feeling– it’s easy to know, and easy to confirm with a thermometer. He doesn’t think he’s ever checked anyone else for fever before though.
Turns out, he and Jungkook do have something in common.
Shaking his head with a disbelieving sigh, Yoongi drapes a second blanket from the back of the couch over Seokjin, and then goes back into the kitchen to look for a pot.
☕💼🤒💊💼☕
Yoongi often gets lost when he’s in the kitchen. Not literally– he just tends to let his mind wander without any real direction any time he’s making food. Cooking is something he finds generally relaxing and more often than not, he ends up daydreaming about random things.
It’s why he suddenly finds himself standing over Kim Seokjin’s stove, making him soup and humming along to a song that’s only inside his head.
And why he doesn’t hear Seokjin come up behind him in the kitchen.
Seokjin abruptly sneezes, right behind Yoongi’s left shoulder, just as he’s stirring the soup. Yoongi startles so badly he flings his arms up, spinning around to face the threat that is Seokjin, and ends up basically throwing a wooden spoon at the sick man.
Luckily for him, the spoon goes flying by several inches to his right and lands with a clatter on the ground behind him.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, flinching at the sound. “You scared me.”
Seokjin blinks at him and looks about five seconds away from sneezing again. He doesn’t say anything, just looks back and forth between Yoongi and the stove.
“Why are you here?” he finally croaks, squinting at Yoongi.
“You must be running one hell of a temperature,” Yoongi replies, half joking and half worried. “I brought a bag of supplies from your brother–”
“No. I mean, why are you still here? Why are you…in my kitchen?”
Yoongi doesn’t have an answer. He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Looking over at the pot of soup simmering on the stove, he wonders why exactly the hell he’s still here, why he’s cleaning up after and trying to play nursemaid to someone he absolutely cannot stand.
“I should get going,” he mutters, face heating with embarrassment. “Your brother was worried about you, so I thought I should make sure you have something to eat before I leave. There’s…” He gestures towards the kitchen. “Soup. It’s hot, so be careful.”
Yoongi bites his tongue before he can ask if Seokjin wants him to serve him a bowl. Sick or not, Seokjin is still a grown ass man.
Instead, he practically runs back towards the front door, jamming his feet into his shoes and rushing outside without so much of a glance behind him.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Thursday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
The next morning, Yoongi wakes with a headache pounding behind his temples. He shuffles into the kitchen and immediately starts his coffee maker, and then reluctantly grabs a bottle of water from the fridge to gulp down while he waits for caffeine. He massages the bridge of his nose and drags himself through the steps of getting ready for work.
Traffic is awful on his way into the office, and it only seems to make his headache worse. The office feels unnaturally quiet as he approaches his desk. His eyes dart immediately over his own desk to Seokjin’s empty desk.
Seokjin’s chair remains neatly tucked in, untouched since Monday. His absence feels louder than Seokjin’s usual obnoxious laughter. Yoongi sinks into his own chair, the ache in his head momentarily forgotten, replaced by a low thrum of worry and a confusing need for answers to questions he’s not even sure he’d be able to fully form just yet.
He tries to focus on his laptop screen, the words swimming before his eyes. He’s trying not to replay the events of yesterday in his mind, but the harder he resists it the more it flashes behind his eyes, an endless loop of embarrassment of his actions. Yoongi has zero explanation for why he had not only stayed at Seokjin’s house, but cooked soup in Seokjin’s kitchen and tidied up like a worried mother hen.
Why are you still here?
Seokjin’s words echo in his head.
All of this could have been avoided if he had just kept his mouth shut on Monday. He could have sat through Seokjin’s pathetic sniffling and never offered to drive him home, of all things. He could have ignored Jungkook and kept his nose in his own business and gone about his day without getting involved.
At noon, Yoongi’s headache is still lingering despite the painkillers he swallowed shortly after arriving at work. The caffeine and water he’s been chugging since he woke up haven’t done a single thing to help, either. He’s almost certain his boss will be on his ass about how much work he’s been missing– if he even notices, that is– but he can’t bring himself to care when his skull feels like it’s about to explode if he stays one more minute.
Yoongi has driven home from work, the same exact route, for years now.
He has driven from work to Seokjin’s house exactly two times and yet for some inexplicable reason that’s where he finds himself navigating to without a second thought.
“There’s something wrong with me,” he says aloud as he stands outside of his car, staring at the front of Seokjin’s house.
He doesn’t have a reason to be here, only a feeling tugging at something in his chest. He knocks on the door and is about to turn and sprint back to his car when he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.
Seokjin answers the door looking like a completely different person than he had yesterday. There’s color back in his face and his hair looks freshly washed and dried.
“Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin greets him, his eyes gleaming with something Yoongi can’t quite place.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Yoongi huffs out.
Seokjin looks just as confused at that as Yoongi feels. He tilts his head to one side and crosses his arms. “I’m certainly surprised you’re here in the middle of the day on a Thursday, considering you were just here yesterday. Don’t tell me Jungkookie sent you here with more stuff?”
Yoongi holds up his hands. Empty. His hands start to tremble slightly and he shoves them into his pockets, unable to meet Seokjin’s eyes.
“You look a little pale,” Seokjin notes. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling fine,” Yoongi snaps back, his throat suddenly aching and suspiciously raw.
He can see Seokjin’s jaw tighten at his response. Yoongi wants to take it back, to answer in a way that’s not so rude, but he can’t. He turns to leave, regret and guilt making his chest tight.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Seokjin’s question is so quiet that Yoongi thinks he’s imagining it at first.
He spins around, eyes narrowing.
“Because you’re too fucking perfect, okay?” Yoongi spits out, the words surging out of him. “You’re perfect. You’re good at everything, and it’s fucking annoying. And you’re devastatingly handsome, and it’s not fucking fair–”
Yoongi doesn’t see him step forward, but suddenly Seokjin is in his space, leaning in until his beautiful, plush lips are against Yoongi’s. Yoongi gasps into the kiss, his body moving on autopilot. Vaguely, he’s aware of Seokjin’s hand coming up to cup the side of his face. His own hands hover uselessly at Seokjin’s sides, just shy of his waist. Seokjin’s mouth tastes like cherry medicine, a strange combination of sweet and chemical.
Seokjin’s skin is fever-warm but Yoongi feels like it’s him who has a fever, the rush of adrenaline and the intensity of the kiss and guilt all coiling together inside of him.
He doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts. Five or ten seconds, tops, but it feels like it lasts forever.
Seokjin pulls back first. His fingers burn against Yoongi’s cheek until he takes his hand back, twisting it together with his other hand in front of his chest.
“Sorry,” Seokjin whispers, looking dazed and pleased and scared all at once, but not very apologetic. “I have a fever…I wasn’t thinking straight…”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Yoongi whispers. “I don’t know why I…”
Seokjin gives him a small smile. “I think you should go, Yoongi-ssi. I don’t want you catching what I have,” he says softly, as if he didn’t just directly transfer his germs to Yoongi via his mouth.
But Yoongi just nods, and turns away to walk back to his car in a daze. When he glances over his shoulder, he sees that Seokjin is still standing in his doorway, one hand pressed to his mouth– to his lips that had just been against Yoongi’s lips.
Oh, Yoongi is so, so very fucked.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Friday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
“This is awfully suspicious, don’t you think?”
“The fuck are you talking about?” Yoongi mutters hoarsely, his face still buried in the crook of his elbow after he’d been wracked by a fit of dry coughs just moments before.
His throat is tickling with the threat of another cough, but that’s the last thing he needs to succumb to with Jungkook suddenly standing right next to him. Grabbing the bottle of water from his desk, Yoongi turns partially away from Jungkook and untwists the cap.
“Why do you have my brother’s cold if you hate him so much?” Jungkook asks, putting his hands on his hips.
“I don’t have your brother’s cold,” Yoongi protests with a glare, his voice wavering as the tickle in his throat worsens and threatens to climb up towards his sinuses.
“You just got sick out of nowhere, then?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. He refuses to entertain the possibility that Seokjin’s germs might have breached his defenses. Well, he’s in denial about the possibility.
If only he hadn’t gone to Seokjin’s house. Willingly. Multiple times.
If only Seokjin hadn’t kissed him.
As if that isn’t humiliating enough, now Jungkook is suspicious of him, and he’s about to sneeze without a single tissue in sight to use.
Yoongi squints down at his sleeve and slowly sets his still-open bottle of water onto his desk.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks.
Yoongi barely hears him through the growing need to sneeze.
“You should probably go home. Half of the people here are out sick today. You need rest to recover if you don’t want to end up like…”
Tuning Jungkook out, Yoongi tries to keep his eyes open. He’s definitely going to sneeze, and it’s probably going to set him off coughing again. He turns the rest of the way around, keeping his back to Jungkook, and tucks his face firmly against his sleeve just in time for the sneeze to burst out of him.
His elbow smacks the desk right next to the water bottle and it wobbles slightly. Yoongi catches the movement in his peripheral and freezes mid-wince, staying still so he doesn’t accidentally knock it over. He sniffles pitifully into his sleeve, embarrassed that someone actually witnessed that explosion of congestion, but when he resurfaces Jungkook is nowhere in sight.
Yoongi looks around for him in confusion, eyes watering and nose running, but a second later Jungkook reappears from his left holding a box of tissues.
“Thank you,” Yoongi says, trying not to grumble as he accepts a tissue from the box.
“You really don’t sound very good,” Jungkook murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip.
“Well, you don’t have to stay here and listen,” Yoongi grumbles through thick congestion. He tries blowing his nose and is only minimally successful.
“That’s definitely what hyung has,” Jungkook continues. “He sounded super stuffed up when I talked with him on the phone last night.”
Yoongi freezes with a tissue cupped around his mouth and nose.
“You…talked to him?”
“I had to check that you actually delivered all of the supplies to him.”
“Right. Well, I did.” Yoongi swallows thickly, biting back a cough. How much does Jungkook know, exactly?
“I know. I told you I knew you had a heart after all.”
Jungkook can’t know. He’d be giving Yoongi so much shit if he did.
“Hyung said he’s feeling a little better now, though.”
“Oh. That’s…good.” Yoongi stares longingly at the box of tissues that Jungkook is still holding.
As if anticipating his needs, Jungkook extends the box towards him once more, and Yoongi reluctantly plucks out a handful of tissues. He turns away to dab at his traitorous, dripping nose. When he turns back around, Jungkook is watching him, eyes soft with worry. He hates the way Jungkook is looking at him, concern mixed with a hint of suspicion that’s making Yoongi nervous.
Finally, with his nose somewhat contained, Yoongi tosses the used tissues into the small trash can under his desk.
“If you need some medicine, I bet my brother–”
“I think you’re right,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m going home. Don’t want to spread this around the office.”
Jungkook clamps his mouth shut and nods in agreement. He just stands there watching as Yoongi gathers his stuff, and then he straightens up with a cheerful wave when he starts to leave.
“Feel better, sunbaenim!”
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Saturday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
From: [email protected]
Subject: check in
Hello Yoongi-ssi,
I wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. I also wanted to apologize for my actions on Thursday, because although I do not regret them I am aware that I may have crossed a boundary or made you uncomfortable.
Sincerely,
Kim Seokjin
Reply | Forward | Delete
Subject: Re: check in
Sincerely? And why are you emailing me on a Saturday??
Reply | Forward | Delete
From: [email protected]
Subject: check in
I think the better question is, why are you checking your work email on a Saturday?
Kim Seokjin
Reply | Forward | Delete
Subject: Re: check in
Honestly, I thought you wanted to check in about the project. You’re the one who’s using work email for personal correspondence.
Reply | Forward | Delete
From: [email protected]
Subject: check in
You can always email me at my personal email if you prefer: [email protected]
Jungkookie said you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. I hope you didn’t catch my cold.
Kim Seokjin
Reply | Forward | Delete
Subject: Re: check in
No thank you.
Reply | Forward | Delete
From: [email protected]
Subject: check in
Okay, suit yourself.
So I take it you’re sick now? I have some extra supplies if you need anything.
Kim Seokjin
Reply | Forward | Delete
Subject: Re: check in
Yes, Seokjin-ssi. You gave me the plague. Next time, you should keep your germs to yourself.
Now please leave me alone, it’s already bad enough I have to see you first thing on Monday morning.
Reply | Forward | Delete
From: [email protected]
Subject: check in
Noted. Again, I am deeply sorry that I made you uncomfortable.
Feel better,
Kim Seokjin
Reply | Forward | Delete
Subject: Re: check in
You are insufferable.
You didn’t make me uncomfortable. You made me sick. I’m going to sleep now so please stop sending me emails.
Reply | Forward | Delete
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Sunday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
A knock at the door pulls Yoongi from his feverish, half-asleep sprawl on the couch. He squints against the Sunday afternoon sunlight that’s streaming through the blinds. Groaning, he drags himself upright, the remnants of a headache pulsing behind his temples.
The knock comes again, this time a little louder. Yoongi stumbles over to the door and tries to remember if he had placed a delivery order before falling asleep earlier, but nothing comes to mind.
He opens the door to see that Kim Seokjin is standing on his doorstep, looking unfairly cheerful, clutching a familiar canvas tote bag slung over his shoulder. Yoongi recognizes it instantly as Jungkook’s.
“Good afternoon, Yoongi-ssi. I brought you some stuff,” Seokjin grins, holding up Jungkook’s familiar tote bag. “I thought it only fair that I repaid the favor.” He sets the bag down at Yoongi’s feet, just inside the door.
Yoongi closes his mouth, which has apparently been hanging wide open. He clears his throat, but he’s not able to make his tongue work to form any words.
“Sorry that I got you sick,” Seokjin chirps, not sounding nearly apologetic enough for Yoongi’s liking.
“Actually I didn’t think it was right to apologize over email,” he says, his words tumbling out in a rush as he redirects the conversation. “And I am really, truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He pauses, eyes dropping to the ground. “When I, uh, kissed you.”
Yoongi inhales sharply as the memory flashes through his mind.
“But…you did kind of kiss me back?” Seokjin says it like a question, a hesitant look on his face.
Yoongi finally gets his mouth to work. “How do you know where I live?”
Seokjin sheepishly rubs his neck, his grin fading slightly. “Oh, don’t worry about that detail. I’ll get out of your hair now. I don’t want to interrupt your weekend any more than I already have.” Seokjin’s hand twitches slightly, as if he’s about to reach out, but his arms stay at his side. “Rest well, Yoongi-ssi. Hang in there. And please text me if you need anything.”
Just as quickly as he had appeared at Yoongi’s door, Seokjin leaves, racing back down the walkway and disappearing from view in under a minute.
Only belatedly does Yoongi remember that Seokjin doesn’t even own a car.
The tote bag sits slumped on his floor by his feet. He nudges it with his foot, then bends down. Inside, nestled beside a box of tissues and a thermos, is a folded piece of paper. He pulls it out. In neat, familiar handwriting, there’s a single line– a phone number.
Yoongi stares at the paper for a moment, and then stares at the direction Seokjin had left in, and then closes his front door quietly. He picks up the tote bag and carries it to his kitchen counter. Inside, beneath the thermos and tissues, he finds several containers of homemade food– still warm to the touch– a large jar of yuja tea, and a full bag of tangerines.
The piece of paper with Seokjin’s phone number feels almost heavy in his hand. He leans against the counter and squeezes his eyes shut. The memory of their kiss floods back again. How many times has he already replayed it in his mind?
The answer to that question is far too embarrassing to face.
Instead, he tucks the paper into his pocket, puts all of the food away, and then shuffles back to his couch so he can bundle up and fall back asleep and pretend all of this is just some kind of strange fever-dream.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Monday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
Yoongi is used to going into the office even if he’s not feeling 100%. He’s been at work hungover, he’s been there with a stomach bug, and he’s certainly worked through a mild cold or two without much fuss.
What he’s not used to is being watched very intently by his annoying desk neighbor. Who happens to be the very person who got him sick. Because he kissed Yoongi fully on the mouth.
That kiss shouldn’t have meant anything. It had been impulsive, but for some reason, it’s all Yoongi can think about as Seokjin watches him now.
But. Seokjin had also checked on Yoongi afterward. He had brought him tissues and medicine and food. And as much as Yoongi has been trying to convince himself otherwise, he’s totally changed his mind on Kim Seokjin.
Things are weird between them. Of course they are. Yoongi is awkward enough already, and he’s been harboring some pretty harsh feelings towards Seokjin from day one. To turn around and go from enemies to…whatever it is that they are now…is strange, to say the least.
There’s also the creeping doubts that are clouding Yoongi’s already foggy mind. What if Seokjin regrets kissing him? What if he had only checked on Yoongi out of pure guilt?
He’s pretty sure that’s not the case, though, not with the way Seokjin is currently staring him down. Yoongi thinks about Seokjin’s phone number, which he had immediately entered into his phone and then threw the piece of paper away like it was some kind of damning evidence. He pulls out his phone and opens it to Seokjin’s contact, and then opens a new text message.
Stop staring at me like that, he texts.
Seokjin’s eyes widen when he reads it. He looks up and raises an eyebrow at Yoongi, and then squints down at his phone, typing out a response.
Shouldn’t you still be at home? Aren’t you still sick?
Yoongi frowns. I’m fine, he texts back. Stop worrying about me. We need to work on our project.
“You could have just said all that to me,” Seokjin says out loud. “I’m sitting right here.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You’re such a pain in the ass,” he says, but this time there’s no real heat behind his words.
Seokjin stands and rolls his chair around his desk and over to Yoongi’s side. He sits down, close but not too close, and leans his arms on Yoongi’s desk.
“What are you doing?”
“Working on the project,” Seokjin replies. “Are you sure you’re not too sick to be here?”
“Shut up,” Yoongi mutters.
His stomach tightens as Seokjin leans over. Their arms are nearly close enough to touch. Between Seokjin’s proximity and the lingering congestion in his head, Yoongi can barely pay attention to the screen in front of them, but Seokjin continues on with quiet confidence that has him relaxing just enough to focus.
Thirty minutes later, when Yoongi stifles a sneeze into the crook of his arm, Seokjin blesses him softly and wordlessly pushes a box of tissues towards him, a small smile on his face.
“Thanks,” Yoongi whispers.
Seokjin’s eyes linger on him for just a moment longer before he turns back to the laptop, his quiet attention making Yoongi’s face heat up in a way that has nothing to do with his illness.
💻⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆📎━━━[ Tuesday ]━━━📎⋆｡˚💊˚｡⋆🗂️⋆｡˚🤧˚｡⋆💻
Yoongi drums his fingers against his desk, staring at the empty chair across from him.
It’s not like Seokjin to be late. Especially after he had just missed so many days of work due to being sick.
Not that Yoongi is keeping track of Seokjin’s work attendance.
Well, maybe it’s a bit disingenuous to lie about that after the past week. Yoongi is absolutely keeping track of Seokjin’s work attendance, because apparently he has feelings about Seokjin now, and apparently most of those feelings are worry.
Seokjin being absent is just…worrying. He might be sick again, and Yoongi wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy even though one week ago he would have considered Seokjin to be his worst enemy.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and snaps him out of his spiral. He quickly pulls it out and sees a text from Seokjin on the screen.
Can you come over?
Yoongi’s heart flip flops in his chest. For one ridiculous heartbeat, Yoongi thinks Seokjin wants to see him, and his mind immediately races to somewhere it shouldn’t, not in the middle of a work day.
Before he can fully process the question or respond, another text comes in:
Can you stop by the store to pick up a few things on the way?
cold medicine
honey cough drops
menthol cough drops but not the blue kind
red gatorade
tissues
banana milk
Yoongi frowns at the list. That’s a list of things for someone who is sick. Just as he’d feared, Seokjin must have somehow gotten sick again.
He stands abruptly, chair squeaking against the floor. His boss is most certainly going to fire him after this week, but he can’t bring himself to care in the moment. Within minutes he’s in his car, weaving through midday traffic, hands too tight around the steering wheel.
Somewhere between the stoplights, he wonders when exactly he became the kind of person who drops everything for Kim Seokjin, of all people. He supposes getting kissed can change a person pretty drastically.
The pharmacy aisle has everything that Seokjin had asked for, and then some. Yoongi adds a few extra items to his basket just in case. He’s never purchased banana milk before, and he's also never seen Seokjin drink banana milk before, but he grabs a pack of small cartons and tosses it in with the rest of the items.
After he pays for everything, he makes his way to Seokjin’s house. Yoongi tries not to knock too frantically on the door, keeping it to a light double tap instead– firm, but not too loud.
Almost immediately, the door swings open. Seokjin stands there, an easy smile on his face and his hair perfectly styled.
"Took you long enough," he chirps, in a way that Yoongi definitely would have considered obnoxious on any other day.
Yoongi blinks. "You look..."
"Healthy? Yeah." Seokjin waves him inside. "It's Jungkookie."
“Jungkookie– uh, Jungkook?” Yoongi slows, frowning. “What about Jungkook?”
“Poor thing just has the worst immune system. It’s practically–”
“Nonexistent,” Yoongi finishes, remembering Seokjin’s words from last week. “So I’ve heard.”
They round the corner. There, on Seokjin’s living room couch, buried under three blankets, Jungkook sneezes violently into a tissue.
“Bless you,” Seokjin coos.
Jungkook blinks up at him, puppy-eyes on full display. “Thank you, hyung. Oh, hello, Yoongi-sunbaenim.”
Yoongi hopes he doesn’t accidentally roll his eyes or something. He’s filled with relief that Seokjin is okay, but also confusion and slight annoyance.
Seokjin claps him on the shoulder. “You can stay here and keep an eye on him, right? I can’t miss any more work.”
“What?” Yoongi sputters. “Me?”
“Just take care of him in a normal way,” Seokjin tells him, winking in a way that makes Yoongi’s face heat up. “He should be fine on the couch for the day if you make sure he has plenty to eat and drink.”
“But– he’s an adult!” Yoongi glances over at Jungkook. “I think…”
“I really appreciate it,” Seokjin says, talking over him. “I owe you big time.”
Yoongi stares at Seokjin as he makes his way to the front door. This cannot be happening.
“Seokjin, wait,” he tries to protest, but Seokjin is already halfway out the door.
Behind him, Jungkook sneezes and sniffles wetly, loudly.
“Did you get the banana milk I asked for?” Jungkook asks, his voice thick with congestion.
Yoongi grits his teeth and slowly turns around. He bites his tongue as he carries the bag of stuff over to the couch and hands it over. Jungkook coughs and sneezes while he rifles through the bag, pulling out each item to inspect it thoroughly before moving onto the next.
“Do you, uh, need me to get you anything?” Yoongi offers, standing awkwardly across the room.
“The only reason you’re being nice to me is because you want to get in hyung’s pants,” Jungkook pouts at him.
Yoongi’s jaw clenches. “How do you know I haven’t already succeeded in doing that?” He snaps back, feeling like he’s bickering with a child.
“Because you’re way too uptight to have recently had sex,” Jungkook quips back, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
“Disgusting,” Yoongi scoffs, grabbing the box of tissues from the coffee table and chucking it in the direction of Jungkook’s head.
Jungkook easily catches the box. “You are so easy to ragebait, you know that?” He smirks from behind a wad of tissues. His smug expression is immediately ruined by a harsh cough.
Groaning pathetically, Jungkook makes a show of fumbling with the bag of cough drops, slowly tearing both bags open. He unwraps one cherry cough drop and one menthol cough drop and puts both of them in his mouth. At the same time.
“Disgusting,” Yoongi mutters.
Jungkook isn’t entirely wrong. Yoongi supposes he should actually try to get along with him if he has any chance with Seokjin. Which, apparently, is something he wants.
What a strange turn of events.
“I’m going to make some soup,” Yoongi mumbles, turning to go into the kitchen. Jungkook ignores him and starts sucking down a carton of banana milk, despite still sucking on two cough drops, pausing every few seconds to breathe loudly through his mouth.
Yoongi makes the same simple, quick recipe he had made for Seokjin, and then spoons a bowl of the soup and carries it back to the living room. He sets it on the coffee table in front of Jungkook and then opens a bottle of cold medicine to pour out a dose, fearful that Jungkook would try to take more than the recommended dose, or worse– chug it straight from the bottle.
Once Jungkook has eaten and finished his cough drops, he slumps back against the couch cushions, his head lolling to one side. The flush on Jungkook's cheeks looks fever-bright and his eyes aren’t really focused on anything in particular.
Yoongi sighs. "Where does Seokjin keep his thermometer?"
Jungkook points a shaky finger toward the hallway. "Bathroom."
In the bathroom, Yoongi wets a washcloth at the sink and finds the thermometer. When he returns to Jungkook’s side he checks his temperature, inserting it gently into his ear. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms that Jungkook is in fact running a fever– a startlingly high one, at that.
“Damn, kid,” Yoongi sighs. “You and your brother don’t do things halfway, do you?”
“We’re half-brothers,” Jungkook supplies cheekily.
Yoongi gestures for Jungkook to lie down, and then pulls the blanket over him. Jungkook shivers when Yoongi presses the cool washcloth to his forehead, but a few minutes later he starts to relax, his eyelids growing heavy.
"Sunbaenim?"
"What?"
"...Thanks."
Yoongi grunts. “You can call me hyung,” he tells Jungkook, somewhat reluctantly. “But only outside of work.”
Jungkook beams up at him. And then immediately sneezes, sending the washcloth sliding down the side of his face.
“Try to sleep for a bit,” Yoongi instructs, fixing the cloth and backing up a good distance. “I’m going to go hang out somewhere else.”
Yoongi ends up in the kitchen, sitting at the small table. He stays where he has a partial view of Jungkook, who fortunately knocks out quickly due to the cold medicine. He starts snoring, loudly, his mouth wide open and his breath rattling in his chest with every inhale.
Yoongi looks around, not quite surprised to see that Seokjin’s house is a mess again. He considers cleaning up a little, but instead pulls out his phone and calls Seokjin’s number.
“Yoongi-ssi? Is everything okay? Is Jungkookie okay?”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yes, Jungkook is fine. When will you be home?” He asks, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
“About 5:45 or 6:00.”
“What? But we get off at 5:00!”
“They haven’t invented speed buses yet, Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi drags a hand down his face and looks over at Jungkook, who’s still snoring away on the couch. There are still several more hours until Seokjin is off work.
“Jungkook and I will come pick you up,” Yoongi tells Seokjin. “We’ll be there at 5 o’clock sharp.”
☕💼🤒💊💼☕
“I don’t wanna get up.”
Yoongi puts his hands on his hips. “It’s not negotiable.”
“But I’m sick,” Jungkook whines.
“Get your ass up, now. We’re leaving in three minutes.”
Reluctantly, with many protests and loud groans, Jungkook hauls himself upright. He wraps his blanket around himself like a cape and shuffles over to the front door where Yoongi is waiting. He looks awful, and Yoongi feels a tiny bit guilty about making him leave the house when he’s clearly so miserable.
Once he’s buckled in the car, Jungkook snaps forward with an uncovered sneeze, directly spraying his germs all over the dashboard of Yoongi’s car.
“You’re right,” Yoongi blurts out, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “You’re right, okay? I’m only doing all of this because I like Seokjin. But would it fucking kill you to cover your mouth when you sneeze?!”
In the silence that follows his outburst, the only sound is Jungkook’s heavy, raspy breathing.
“Sorry,” Jungkook sniffles after a moment. “Hyung.”
They pull up in front of the office with ten minutes to spare. Yoongi turns up the music, but it’s not enough to drown out the sound of Jungkook’s incessant sniffling.
“Why do you both look so tense?” Seokjin asks when he slides into the backseat.
Jungkook coughs into his blanket. Yoongi pulls away from the curb without waiting to check if Seokjin has buckled his seatbelt yet.
“Well, good news, Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin says, undeterred by the silence. “I finished the project today.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Really?” He asks, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“And we’ve got ourselves a new project to work on starting first thing tomorrow!”
A half-laugh, half-cough bursts out of Jungkook. “Guess you two will be spending a lot more time together,” he croaks.
“None of us are going to be spending any more time together unless we actually start going to work again,” Yoongi replies.
“Oh, that’s a good point,” Seokjin says. “Yoongi-ssi, boss says you’ve used up all of your sick leave and then some, so try not to get sick anymore this year.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Yoongi grumbles.
“Wait,” Jungkook interrupts. “You didn’t tell him he can call you hyung too?” His eyes bore into the side of Yoongi’s head.
“No,” Yoongi mutters. “He’s older than me.”
“What? I thought you were like, forty.”
Seokjin snorts from the backseat. “Ah, Jungkookie, don’t be rude.”
“I’m thirty,” Yoongi growls. “Just because you’re a child–”
“Yoongi-ssi,” Seokjin says. “Would you like to call me hyung?”
“He does,” Jungkook answers for him. “But only outside of work.”
“Okay,” Yoongi states abruptly as they pull up in front of Seokjin’s house. “Here we go. Feel better, Jungkook. See you at work tomorrow, Seokjin-ssi…Seokjin-hyung.”
Calling Seokjin hyung makes Yoongi’s cheeks burn.
“Aren’t you coming inside?” Seokjin asks, opening the car door.
“No thank you.” Yoongi doesn’t care if he’s being too blunt. “I need to get home now.”
Seokjin helps Jungkook out of the car and nudges him up the walkway. Then he comes around to the driver’s side and waits for Yoongi to roll down the window.
“Thank you for taking care of Jungkookie today. I really appreciate it.”
“I can’t say it was a pleasure,” Yoongi sighs.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Almost in slow motion, Seokjin leans forward, ducking his head through the car window. Yoongi’s breath catches. He closes his eyes and leans in to meet him, his heart thundering in his chest.
Just as Seokjin’s lips press against his, a loud sneeze rings out from the front step, and Seokjin jerks back so quickly he almost smacks his head on the door.
“Sorry!” Jungkook calls out, wiping his nose on his blanket-covered arm, staring blatantly at the two of them.
“Sorry,” Seokjin echoes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I better get him inside and into bed. Maybe we can hang out sometime? Outside of work?”
“As long as he’s not invited, I’m in.”
A laugh bursts out of Seokjin. “Okay, deal.”
“See you tomorrow,” Yoongi smiles.
Seokjin jogs up the walkway and opens the front door. He pauses in the doorway after Jungkook goes inside, a big grin on his face, and waves at Yoongi as he starts driving away. Yoongi gives a little wave back, and then tries to suppress his own giddy grin until he’s a block away, Seokjin growing smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror but still waving until Yoongi is completely out of his sight.