Yoongi would describe himself as a chill person. He certainly is when you take into account that he lives in a small apartment with his aunt and uncle, little cousins while working at a café and therefore dealing with annoying teenagers and stressed businessmen daily.

So yeah, he considers himself pretty chill because he's able to sleep while his siblings are still yelling, he's able to focus on writing when his cousins are playing tag in the tiny living room, his uncle singing his heart out along to the radio, other cousin complaining exactly about that and his aunt yelling from the kitchen for someone to help her cook. He's able to refrain himself from hitting customers and lashing out at them when they order shit. Like, holy fucking shit! They do not have that drink. Certainly, Starbucks has that drink but they're not fucking Starbucks!

So yeah, he's chill, but this – this fucking guy! Just takes the icing off the fucking cake and Yoongi seriously considers forgetting everything he learned about customer service and fucking punch the guy right in his way too pretty face.

But maybe, Yoongi should first off all explain how he lost his fucking chill in a seemingly normal shift.

Well, at first, a shift at the lively café is never normal. Especially not the fucking early one. So, Yoongi opened today and had a shit ton of teenage girls order strange things that either aren't on the menu or have to be low-carb or extra skinny or with almond milk and – yeah, Yoongi is aware of the fact that some people genuinely get sick when they drink normal milk or need the sugar reduced in their drinks but that doesn't change the fact that it's tiring and that 98% of these girls – and guys – were straight up assholes to him. Yoongi hates people who bitch about their order, like, okay, I get it, you want it to be made that way and yeah, I understood you the first time but I'm sorry, you need to order from the menu, no, you can not speak the manager at the moment because none is here or yeah, you can speak to the manager but he'll tell you the exact same thing I just did.

It's fucking exhausting and he went home with a migraine starting behind his eyelids, only to listen to his little cousins off-key singing because he proudly showed him that he's participating in the choir from now on – Yoongi loves him to death but he also loves being able to hear, y'know? So, migraine, loud singing and then he got called back into work because some of the other baristas didn't make it to their shift because of reasons and even though Yoongi worked the early shift, he still went to the last one. Angry, annoyed, frustrated and with a migraine but he needed the extra money.

So, he went. He went and fortunately the customers reduced by the time evening came around but at the exact moment, he began to clean everything because it's been a fucking hour since the last customer walked inside, the fucking bell over the door rung. He was ready to fight whoever decided to come into a café this fucking late because who would be crazy enough to think that it was healthy drinking coffee this late apart from himself?

The shop would be closed in half an hour and he kind of wanted to finish early but now those dreams were fucking ruined. His co-worker clocked out fifteen minutes ago because, despite his migraine and overall shitty mood, Yoongi still has a soft spot for the college student girl who he knows has been stressed out about school because exam season is starting soon and he felt like doing something good. One good deed a day and that bullshit.

But now he wished she'd be still here because then he could have fled from serving the obvious annoying boy who just entered and the woman who just looked ready to devour him if he got her order wrong. The woman with wrinkles as deep as canyons reached the counter first and Yoongi instantly focused his attention on her.

The greeting died on his tongue because seriously? No one really cared and Mrs. Stuck-up-wrinkle had just started rattling down her order. Yoongi listened to her demands and no, fucking shit no, he would not fucking deal with this kind of customer at almost closing time and a raging fucking migraine. The woman was glaring at him like she was expecting to repeat her fucking obnoxious order.

But no, of course not. There was no fucking way in fucking hell that Min motherfucking Yoongi would have to need a repetition of such an outstanding order and there was also no fucking way in hell that he would make said drink. He just kind of tuned her voice out as his gaze shifted to the annoyingly pretty male who stood in the middle of the room. The guy just screamed Rich and Annoying and Brat – all with capital letters. Brand clothes paired with the face of a potential model.

Mrs. Bitchy-stick-up-her-ass cleared her throat and Yoongi figured he should probably say something. Something civil. Hopefully, something civil. He needed to be civil because he needed this job, he needed the money and he needed to get his temper in control in order to secure the former two things.

"Do you think this is a magic shop?" He asked her and the question seemed to throw her off. Obviously, she wasn't used to the word 'no' but more like 'yes, Queen of us all, I'll do whatever you want.' But of course, she hadn't been quiet for long. She found her annoying high-pitched voice soon enough.

"Did you hear what I said?" Her tone was flat, red lips pressed into a thin line as she raised one of her very drawn on eyebrows. He heard her alright. Actually, he kind of wished that he didn't but that wasn't the point here right now. He got momentarily distracted by pretty-guy who was now wandering through the empty café like there was actually anything worth looking at. The woman was still glaring at him, face caked with make-up. Like, seriously? Green eyeshadow? If she'd paint her face a little paler she would be see-through and that hair. Who runs around like that, Yoongi is still wondering that. What look was the woman going for? Cruella de Ville? She sure looked like her impersonation. Dyed hair and a white fur coat – she got everything. Probably killed a few puppies too. Why did he always get stuck with these kinds of people?

Well, whatever because Cruella was. Still. Talking. How the hell did she do that? Seriously, Yoongi would be filthy rich if he got a won every time someone held the same fucking rant about his non-existent customer service and blah, blah, blah...

"Listen," he interrupted her talking, one hand going up to point at the menu above his head, "This is a menu. It's there for a reason. Choose something from it because I'm not going to serve you anything else at the moment. Geez, did you look at the fucking time? Choose something from the menu or get the hell out."

Yoongi just sighed as Cruella deemed it necessary to lecture him about cussing in front of customers and human decency - decency?! Fucking drop that. She wasn't the kindest person either. "Miss," he hissed from between his teeth. "Order or get out. I'm sorry, the manager isn't in and I'm seriously considering homicide if I have to listen to another word if it isn't a thing that's on the menu."

Well, it sure sounds like it but Cruella de Ville isn't the reason why Yoongi is seriously losing his cool right now. No, the reason is the guy who stands behind her and takes her place the second she huffs and leaves the café without ordering anything.

Pretty boy comes up to the counter, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips as he casually leans on the counter and takes his shades off. Yoongi is greeted by large brown eyes. Almost puppy like they stare up at him. The boy looks younger than him but not by much. His hair has a soft blonde color – almost honey-like and Yoongi finds himself wondering if it feels as soft. He looks like a model, like one of those guys who are all over the media, playing leading roles in K-Dramas.

Before the guy even opens his mouth Yoongi catches the unmistakable stench of alcohol radiating from him. Of fucking course, he has to deal with a drunk too. Like Cruella hasn't been enough already. He listens to the guy rattling down his order of the sweetest fucking drink they have on the menu – thank god it's from the menu – and having the audacity to ask for extra sugar. Extra. Extra sugar. Seems like someone wants to die from diabetes tonight, Yoongi thinks as his hands fall in a practiced motion, preparing the drink.

He's aware of the heavy gaze on him. Pretty boy is being not very subtle with his staring but Yoongi isn't subtle either about blatantly ignoring him. He seriously does not have the nerve to deal with creepy drunk and sadly pretty boys at the moment.

"Enjoy your drink," he hisses and pushes the cup over the counter. Pretty boy is still smiling, leaning forward a bit and the scent of alcohol almost makes Yoongi want to puke. A fucking mystery how the guy is able to seem sober while smelling like a whiskey shop. There's a stamp of some nightclub on the back of his hand that Yoongi never heard of. He's not the one to go clubbing. He prefers staying home and well, he doesn't really have the time to go out anyway.

"Here," Pretty boy's fingers linger on his own for a second too long before he slides over a bill. "You can keep the change."

Yoongi wants to roll his eyes because he could really pass on the coin he would get out of an order like that – wait a second. He does a double take at the banknote slipped over the counter and his eyes grow in size. What the fuck? It's a 100 000 won bill. Who even carries around so much money only to spend it on a freaking coffee and telling the barista to keep the fucking change?!

Pretty boy is smirking at him, eyes hooded and a dreadful feeling starts to settle in Yoongi's stomach. He feels like prey under the other's gaze. This is ridiculous. He seriously doesn't have the nerve to deal with this right now. He just wants to go home and sleep the whole weekend away. "Now, I would be delighted if you added your number to my drink."

Ah, Yoongi thinks. People always want something from you. Obviously, pretty boy wouldn't give so much money away only to not get anything in return. As if Yoongi would get so lucky.

"Did you just sorta paid to make it more likely that I give you my number?" He asks, turning the bill between his fingers back and forth. He's ready to ring up the order and return the full change to pretty boy but then the other opens his mouth and Yoongi changes his mind. Now he wants to dump the diabetes-drink over the other's unfairly handsome face.

"Listen," Pretty boy has dropped the flirty tone and casual stance. Seems like he isn't here to beat around the bush but to cut straight to what he wants. "We can also, like, get it on in the back. Even though I'm not a big fan of bathroom – or well, any sex that doesn't take place in a bed or living room but well?"

"Are you kidding me?" Yoongi's nostrils flare from the effort of keeping calm. He chants his inner mantra to refrain himself from actually decking the guy. You need this job. You need this job. Think of your family. You fucking need this job. "Take your fucking money and that fucking cup of obscenity before I pour it all over your fucking head." At least he tried to be civil. Some people are just asking for it. Pretty boy certainly is, judging by his answer.

"You cuss a lot, you know?" God, Yoongi wants to fucking punch him right in the face. He seriously does not have the willpower to put up with Pretty Boy. The younger is leaning on his elbow, looking up at the other through his thick lashes and every time a word leaves his pinkish lips Yoongi catches the scent of alcohol in the other's breath. "I mean, now it's kinda sexy but nah. You should lay it off if you want to get laid."

His patience is running out at record speed. "I'll give you one more chance to shut the fuck up and get the fuck out before I make my threat reality," Yoongi hisses.

"What if I don't want to?" To his complete horror, Pretty boy has the freaking audacity to slide another bill over to him. Yoongi doesn't understand. He must look like shit, he knows he should have showered before coming here, the rings under his eyes must be very prominent right now and he knows for a fact that his expression usually makes small children cry – then why, why is the boy (young man?) hitting on him? Why?! Yoongi just wants his fucking rest.

"Listen, pretty boy," he slams the previous bill on the counter, "I'm not a prostitute, you can't buy me."

"Okay, you listen," it doesn't seem like pretty boy wants to back down. What the hell got him so desperate for Yoongi? The things alcohol does to you. "You don't just tell me 'no'. Do you know who I am?"

"Fortunately, I don't." Perfect. Not only is the boy drunk off his ass but he's also a fucking rich and obnoxious kid. The kind of person Yoongi definitely doesn't want to interact with at the moment. He hates this. He hates those people. Rich, full of themselves. They think they own the world and money can buy them everything. It makes Yoongi sick. Sick to the stomach.

"Kim Taehyung, pleased to meet you," Pretty boy - Taehyung - somehow the name sounds oddly familiar but Yoongi can't place it anywhere in his mind, "My parents own the Kim Corporation and I have the leading role in the newest K-Drama, maybe you should start watching Tv or something."

"Okay," Yoongi takes in another controlled breath. His hand is twitching towards the hot cup of coffee still standing between them but he keeps himself from dumping it over the head of the other. God, what would he give to see the dumb grin wiped off his face. He wants the boy to regret ever setting foot in this café. "Just because your filthy rich ass got everything handed to it on a silver platter does not mean that there eventually won't be a day where someone tells you 'no'. Surprise, this day is now, get out."

"Uhm – Yoongi," Taehyung leans closer, Yoongi involuntarily back, to inspect the nametag attached to the other's chest, "Yoongi... You shouldn't act so high and mighty when you work this shift with those cheap clothes."

What the hell is that supposed to mean now? Yoongi feels his patience slip through his fingers, right by him and out of the window. Before he even thinks about consequences or anything of that sort he grabs the cup – the heat of the coffee is hot against his skin and he can only imagine the painful stinging the liquid leaves behind as he pours it over the boys head.

"What the fuck?!"

He watches with a strange sense of satisfaction in his stomach how Taehyung furiously wipes his face with the sleeves of his long shirt, trying to get the coffee off his skin. Yoongi knows the drink hadn't been hot enough to actually do any damage besides hurting a bit now – he's not that low. "Guys like you think they own everything just because they're pretty and have money but let me tell you, you're a nothing. Get the hell out here."

"Don't think this won't have an aftermath," Taehyung seethes from between his teeth. At least the stench of alcohol emitting from him is replaced by the more pleasant smell of coffee.

"I don't give a flying fuck," Yoongi sneers, not the slightest bit intimidated by the drunk boy whose coffee soaked hair is clinging to his forehead, "I don't care who you are and I don't care how much money you own or how pretty you are – you're ugly inside. An ugly heart with a pretty and rich exterior but you're nothing more."

-

Yoongi would like to say he doesn't think about Taehyung anymore during the next weeks. But he couldn't get the other male out of his head – no, obviously not because of how good looking he had been or because of his very nice personality. No. Definitely no. Every time his mind wanders to the drunk boy he feels anger rise in his chest, pumping like fire through his veins and he gets the weird urge to punch something with all his might.

Taehyung pissed him off. Taehyung pissed him off back then and okay, yeah, maybe Yoongi is being petty but who could blame him? Okay, he also might be overreacting a bit because seriously, it's been weeks but it's not his fault he had to see the other's face around every corner during this time.

Fortunately, it hadn't been his actual, real-life face because then Yoongi wouldn't have been too sure if he could have controlled the urge to deck the guy. No, he's seen his face on various posters advertising the grand final of the most popular K-Drama right now. Unfortunately, it seems that Taehyung must have some kind of talent as an actor when he's able to grasp such a large lead role but, Yoongi supposes, he could have also bought his way inside of the production. After all, Taehyung seems like a guy who is convinced money is going to get him anywhere. Yoongi's pants included, but he's not that weak. And he's definitely not that low.

Anyway, seeing Taehyung's stupid pretty face plastered all over the city pisses Yoongi off so much that he had started taking a black marker with him and decorating each and every poster with the actor on it he came across. A smile tugs at his lips every time he passes a poster he already embellished with a mustache. It's great. Masterpieces.

Over the last weeks, the knowledge that he's been doing that had kept him in a somewhat good mood, considering the situation he's in at the moment. The dire need of money claws at the back of his mind every waking second of the day. He could have used the money Taehyung offered him back then well. But he's not quite ready to stoop that low, so what? Now he has to walk home by foot because he can't afford the bus – It's no big deal. He secretly eats the leftovers at the café – well, not secretly because basically everyone who works there knows in what kind of situation he is but he likes to pretend no one knows. Likes to pretend he's just like them. He doesn't need much food anyway. He'd rather spend the money he has on buying meals for his family. They need it more than he does.

That's why he finds himself wandering the streets in pitch black darkness, one hand in his jacket, curled around the small bundle of cash - The tips of today. His heart warms but at the same time, he feels like he's suffocating. He hates this. Hates how he's being treated with pity because he's too poor to live anywhere than at the subsistence minimum. They're always giving him the tips – every tip that any worker earns over the day wanders in Yoongi's pocket. He's thankful. Of course, but it feels... feels kind of degrading? He isn't sure how to describe the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He sighs as he turns the corner only to walk straight into something solid. Solid but not solid enough to be a wall. Also, a wall doesn't gasp in surprise when someone walks into it. He lifts his head, hand curled around the money tighter because who knows what kind of people are lurking around here in the dark, his other hand already twitching to his jeans where he keeps his pocket knife.

At first, he thinks it's a joke. That his eyes are playing some kind of trick on him because he hasn't been sleeping well and this is the fifth late shift in a row but after blinking for a few times there is no mistaking it. It's motherfucking Kim Taehyung staring down at him. Instantly a scowl settles on his lips as he lets his eyes roam over the boy in front of him. He looks different. His hair has a different color – a darker shade of brown and Yoongi supposes it's his natural hair color –, there are no shades on his face, instead, there are dark rings which almost look like they were painted on, sitting under his dull brown eyes. He's wearing a large black hoodie (still branded) and Yoongi shivers just looking at him – it's cold during the night even though spring is approaching fast. He's wearing jeans. Dirty at the knees and sneakers who must have also seen better days. Taehyung looks nothing like the confident rich boy he had been the evening he tried to buy Yoongi's company. But the other has no time dwelling on the fact that Taehyung looks like he's been through hell and seconds away from crying.

"Watch where you're going," Yoongi says instead, walking past the other and knocking against his shoulder on purpose. He expects the other to be angry or something. But Taehyung just stumbles slightly, head hanging low as he steps out of the way. Yoongi thinks that this is it, it's karma. Taehyung had been an ass and now, he's seeing him again looking like shit. But he's been wrong. He's almost around the next corner when there's suddenly a voice yelling after him, a tilt of desperation to it. "Wait!"

Yoongi wants to keep walking – he desperately wants to keep walking and ignore the tremble in the voice of Taehyung but... But he can't. He just can't. With a sigh he turns around, eyes falling upon large brown ones. Brown eyes which are glistening with unshed tears and the desperation Yoongi had already heard in the other's voice. "What is it?" He asks and Taehyung winces.

"We kind of met – how should I say this? We kind of got to know each other under bad circumstances – I just really need help..." Taehyung's voice is quiet, a small tear escapes his eye and catches on his long lashes. The words seem to force themselves over his tongue and despite the obvious desperation in his eyes, Yoongi could still see the small hint of embarrassment. Yoongi sees the slight grimace on his face as he asks Yoongi, out of all people Yoongi. It gives him a small sense of satisfaction.

"Well, seems like it sucks to be you," he drawls, eyes wandering from the boy in front of him to the flickering lamppost above them. The last time he has seen Taehyung, the younger has been in control of the situation. He had forced Yoongi to do something stupid, crowded against him at his workplace and made him feel all flustered and powerless. Now he's the one in control. This time Taehyung wants help - help! - from him. Him!

Taehyung bites on his bottom lip harshly, sucking in a sharp breath before he seems to collect the rest of his courage. "Yoongi..." His name sounds weird rolling off the other's tongue without cockiness behind it. "Please, I – I just need a place to stay for one night. I – I don't have anyone... I can't sleep on the park bench again –"

"Just – " Yoongi interrupts him, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should have known there is something going on with Taehyung. He's seen his name pop up over the last weeks in various news and on social media, he just never bothered to check them. And now this, sleeping on a park bench? He can't quite grasp the idea that the filthy rich Taehyung should be sleeping on a bench outside. Well, it might explain why he looks like he had been living under a bridge. His greasy, unkempt hair, the dirt all over his clothes, the dullness of his eyes and the dark rings under them. He sighs again, one hand running through his own hair. He will regret this. He'll definitely regret this. "– Shut up with your pity party. This doesn't change the fact that I still think you're an obnoxious, pretentious, insufferable little brat, okay?"

"Yeah..." Taehyung is avoiding his gaze.

"If I hear one complaint, I'm gonna throw your ass out on the street without batting an eye, you hear me?" Yoongi slightly shoves the other, just to make sure that he's actually listening. Taehyung only mumbles in response but there seems to be a hint of a relieved smile playing along with the corners of his pinkish lips. "Loud and clear..."

Taehyung hasn't opened his mouth once since he started trailing a step behind Yoongi on their way home. He doesn't have any things with him, no bag, not even a jacket. He's not even looking up, not when they're in front of the rundown apartment building and not when they're walking up the many stairs. It's home. Home for Yoongi because in this building there are no locked doors. The people living here are all the same. All poor and with families they try to feed. Most apartment doors are left open over the day but even now, late in the evening, there are still people walking through the different hallways, from apartment to apartment, talking, laughing together. They hold together here. There here for each other.

There's the smart young guy living across the hall from Yoongi's apartment who provides the whole floor with wifi, the old woman who is always giving you cookies in exchange for spending a little time with her and listening to her stories. There is the man who works in a warehouse and often sneaks a few things out, giving them to those in need. They're a big family here and Yoongi observes as Taehyung watches the neighbors walking around without reservations.

It must be weird for him, Yoongi thinks. Rich kids don't understand the solidarity between people who are faced with the same problems, the same fate. It must be weird for him being here. Yoongi silently smiles at the way Taehyung's eyes sparkle a little as he sees one of the neighbor's kids running around the hallway screaming and laughing.

He's barely opening the door to his own apartment when it's already being yanked open. The two little kids behind it are squealing as they throw themselves at him. "Yoongi is home!" Chul yells. He's the most hyperactive one. Don't give him sugar, seriously. Yoongi is never making that mistake again. Once is enough. Chul is already six years old and he points that fact out any chance he gets. He's so proud of it and it never fails to make Yoongi smile.

"Gigi!" The girl hanging from his other leg lisps. Jiae just lost her front teeth and has been speaking even cuter than before since then. She's four years old and since she learned to speak she had trouble pronouncing Yoongi's name, pouting every time she gets it wrong so Yoongi told her to use the very special nickname 'Gigi' for him. She had been delighted.

"Hyung –" The oldest of his three cousins sticks his head around the corner upon the loud excited screaming of his younger siblings. Shin is twelve years old but sometimes Yoongi thinks he's much older. It's sad. He doesn't want his cousins to grow up too fast. He wants them to enjoy their childhood, to have a childhood despite the poor conditions they live in. He doesn't want them to be like him. Having to be mature, to be an adult too soon. That's why he's working so much. He provides for his family almost alone, his aunt can't work anymore and his uncle doesn't earn much with his job as a cleaner – especially not when his back has been acting up lately.

Shin's gaze falls on Taehyung who is still standing behind Yoongi and looking horribly out of place. "Who is this?" There's obvious distaste in his voice and Yoongi wants to smack him and hug him at the same time. For one, he always teaches his cousins to be nice to everyone but Shin has always been very perceiving when it comes to people's personality. Seems like he's not too fond of Taehyung – serves him right, Yoongi thinks as he remembers the way Taehyung acted like he owned the world the first time they met. Shin might be a little like a dog, sensing bad people.

"Hey, hey, let my leg go, okay?" Yoongi hums and gently pries the fingers of his small cousins off his legs before gesturing towards Taehyung who smiles a little uneasy at the three children in front of him, "This is Taehyung, he's going to stay the night."

"Stay? Where is he going to stay?" Shin exclaims and Yoongi understands. It's not like they have a guest bedroom, they barely have room for themselves let alone an extra bed to spare. Yoongi knows that. He knows all that. He knows because his aunt and uncle sleep in the living room, his cousins sleep all in one room – the two little ones in a bunk bed and Shin in a single bed barely fitting inside the room. Yoongi is staying in the only other room, it's small, it's cramped and he sleeps on a mattress on the floor. He doesn't have a bed frame. He shouldn't have brought Taehyung. They have no room for him but he couldn't just leave him out there. He's not that heartless.

"My room or do you want him to stay in your bed?" Yoongi teases as he ruffles Shin's hair. The younger pouts and wiggles out of the other's grasp. "Ew, no, I don't wanna sleep with your boyfriend," he whines, eyes raking over Taehyung's form once again.

"I'm not his boyfriend!" It's the first time Taehyung has said anything since they arrived. And it's something like this. His expression looks a little horrified and Yoongi does not understand. Like, he's total boyfriend material? Taehyung hit on him before? Why the fuck does he act like it's the worst thing on earth when someone assumes they're boyfriends? It seems like he's not the only one offended because there's a chorus of offended gasps coming from him and all his three cousins.

"Rude," Shin says before turning to look at Yoongi and fixing him with a disapproving stare, "Your boyfriend doesn't seem very nice, I don't think mom will allow him to stay."

"He's really not my boyfriend but –" Yoongi glares a little at Taehyung "– He also doesn't need to make it seem like I wouldn't be a good catch. Rude."

Taehyung just sighs and steps inside the apartment with a roll of his eyes. Yoongi follows behind him, taking Jiae in his arms, balancing the small girl on his hip as he calls out for the rest of his family. "Auntie?" There's a crash coming from the kitchen. "Are you home?"

"Is that you, Yoongi?" A female voice yells back through the apartment and Yoongi fondly rolls his eyes. Who else is it supposed to be? "You're later than usual- Who is this fine young man?" She rounds the corner, a pot and towel in both hands as her eyes widen once they land on Taehyung. Well, Yoongi has to admit even though Taehyung doesn't look the best right now he's still a sight to see. Sadly, sadly he's still way too pretty for his own good. Yoongi hates it. How can some people be so gifted? Handsome and rich? Life is truly unfair.

"Taehyung," Yoongi points at the other, "He's going to stay for the night." He hopes his aunt doesn't ask any more questions, she usually is the type who needs to know every small detail but he really doesn't have the nerve to explain why Taehyung is staying the night and especially why he's staying the night here with them. She opens her mouth and Yoongi prepares himself to answer her as shortly as possible –

"Oh, well, we don't have a lot of room, I hope it won't inconvenience you too much," his aunt says smiling. Maybe Taehyung just has that effect on people? Blinding them with a nice smile and good looks. It's seriously unfair. How easy you can manipulate people with fake niceness – Yoongi doesn't want to shatter the act though. He definitely doesn't think Taehyung is nice. Then why are you letting him stay? A small voice inside of his head asks but he quickly shoves it away. Opposite to Taehyung he actually is a nice person. That's why he lets him stay. It's just out of pity – pity and caring too much for other people. He likes seeming cold on the exterior but deep down he always cares. Cares even too much sometimes.

"I'm sure it'll be better than the park bench," Taehyung smiles and Yoongi is once again amazed by the ability of the other to seem like he's genuinely thankful and not – okay. He should stop. He doesn't know Taehyung. He met him once and he has no idea why the other is currently sleeping on a park bench. He shouldn't be too quick to judge. Maybe the other isn't as much of an asshole as he was on that day? Maybe he's different. Yoongi will give him a chance. Not an easy one but a chance regardless.

"Park bench?" His aunt exclaims, putting the pot away and slinging the towel over her shoulder to walk closer and hold one of Taehyung's hands between hers. "Do you not have a place to stay? You can stay longer here if you don't. Even though it's small, it'll definitely be better than a bench. Oh, and it's so cold outside too."

"He's not going to stay for long," Yoongi says and goes to pull Taehyung along, away from his slightly frowning aunt, "He requested just one night, so that's what he's gonna get."

"Yoongi." She says his name with an edge of warning to it. He wants to roll his eyes but understands where she's coming from. For her, Taehyung is just someone who has no place to stay and a kind smile but to Yoongi the other male is the guy who offered him money to sleep with him, the one who drunkenly came into the café and acted totally out of line. (Maybe he isn't the most innocent one either, after all, he did pour coffee on the other but well...) He might not be acting like the nicest person ever but at least he offered Taehyung a place to stay. That should give him good karma for the like, next five years.

"Aren't you gonna play with us, Yoongi?" Chul asks from somewhere behind him, Yoongi halts, already halfway shoving Taehyung through the small living room. "Ah, I'm sorry but not tonight," he smiles down at his cousin, hoping that it would turn his frown upside down, "I have to take care of this stray, okay?"

"Hey!" He ignores Taehyung's exclaim at being called a stray, he just shoves him a little further. Hopefully, this night will be over in the blink of an eye. He's way too tired to deal with anything right now and he has to work in the morning again, so he needs every second of sacred sleep he could get. Behind him, Shin is consoling his little brother, sadly to Yoongi's disadvantage. He's going to need weeks to get the idea of Taehyung being his boyfriend out of his families heads.

"Yoongi just wants to have some 'adult-time' with his boyfriend," Shin snickers. And for god's sake, the little devil knows exactly what he's doing. (Like, he's twelve. Who taught him all these sexual innuendoes he's been saying lately – definitely not Yoongi... or...?) Yoongi is about to retort something when the door to the apartment opens once again. This time revealing his uncle.

"Whose boyfriend?" And great, it seems like he still heard what Shin said seconds ago. Yoongi is not awake enough to deal with this! Seriously, he also needs a break sometimes. But no, something always has to happen. "He is not my boyfriend!"

"Yoongi, you're yelling and aren't even gonna say hello?" His uncle chuckles but this time Yoongi doesn't find himself laughing along to the deep rumble of the elder's voice. He just wants to fucking get Taehyung into bed – not in a sexual way! – is that too much to ask for?! Just... sleep. He needs sleep.

"Hello Uncle, excuse me and this stray now," Yoongi hurries to say, indicating very directly that he does not want to engage in any kind of conversation before he shoves Taehyung forwards again, "Auntie will explain everything and don't believe anyone who tells you that Taehyung is my boyfriend. Because I'd rather lose a hand, to be honest."

"Wow, who's being rude now?" Taehyung stumbles a little on his way into Yoongi's room.

"Shut up." He quickly slams the door shut behind them, wincing at the loud bang echoing through the apartment and a second later the voice of his aunt follows the bang, "No door slamming!"

"Sorry!"

Yoongi is leaning his forehead against the closed door, taking in one deep and long breath through his nose and he feels his shoulders sag in exhaustion, tension slightly rolling off him. But of course, he's not even granted one second of quietness because instantly there's Taehyung again. Of course, there is.

"So..." The other male is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and as Yoongi turns around he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. He doesn't know why. Well, he does but he doesn't want to be ashamed of his room just because it isn't anything special. But that's not true either. It's special. It's his.

Yeah, it's small, there's the table squeezed in the corner right under the window with the office chair he got from the guy who moved out opposite of them last year, the lamp on it also gifted by him. Heavy black curtains restrict light from coming in, right next to the door is the closet – it once belonged to a child given that there are still the remains of stickers Yoongi couldn't get off all over the surface of the door. He doesn't have a bed frame, his mattress is just laying like that on the floor.

It's small, tiny even but it's his home. He shouldn't be ashamed. Taehyung is standing in the middle but they're still so close to each other just because there's literally nowhere else to stand in the room. The other's eyes are raking over Yoongi's things, catching on the laptop on his table – he got that one from his friend, Namjoon. The younger male had given it to him no matter how hard Yoongi protested but in the end, he felt almost just as happy as he felt guilty for letting his friend buy him expensive stuff. The speakers next to it are old but Yoongi got them cheap, fixed them and now they're almost as if they're new – on good days at least.

Still, he can't quite get the image of Taehyung posing in the middle of his huge ass living room out of his head – so what?! Maybe he did google him! Sue him! Even with the dirty clothes – which are still probably high class and cost more than the rent of this apartment – Taehyung looks so lost in the room. So out of place that Yoongi finds himself once again questioning what he's even doing here. He spent the last weeks hating the shit out of this guy and now, now he lets him stay in his room? That doesn't make much sense but he can't really throw him out again now, can he? At least Taehyung hasn't acted like an asshole this time. Maybe he really isn't that bad after all and Yoongi's sleep deprived and headache suffering head just exaggerated their first meeting?

"This is my room," Yoongi mumbles, head down as he brushes past Taehyung. "Don't say anything, okay? Not everyone can live in huge penthouses, so you'll just have to bear with this."

"Did you google me?" That fucker has the audacity to tilt his voice to give it a teasing tone. Yoongi is in no mood for this but he still feels a twitch in the corners of his mouth. Maybe Taehyung could be a fun guy to spend the night with?

"Did I google you? Did I change your Wikipedia page – or rather correct it? Did I draw mustaches on every picture I saw of you? Maybe I did but you'll have no way of ever knowing that."

"I kept wondering who changed my wiki page," Taehyung wonders out loud.

"I certainly didn't." Yoongi is reminded of the long hours he spent editing Taehyung's Wikipedia entry, never once straying from his will to throw in as many insults towards the 'actor/model/CEO son/beautiful angel' (as he was dubbed on Wiki). It was really tiring, especially because some annoying people always changed his edits back to the original text and description. It had pissed him off almost more than Taehyung himself.

"Yeah, and you also didn't draw the mustache on the poster down by the bus stop, right?" The younger smiles cheekily, slightly knocking his shoulder against Yoongi's who just snickered in response.

"Definitely not."

The short silence between feels comfortable. Taehyung is still looking around and it gives Yoongi the perfect opportunity to let his own eyes rake over the other's face. He couldn't argue with the rest of Korea, Taehyung is handsome. Face so symmetrical that even now, in shitty light, with dark rings and tired eyes, he still looks photoshopped. It's unfair. They're still standing pretty close, Yoongi is able to spot a few moles on the younger's face and he gets the sudden urge to touch them. Gosh, what's he even thinking right now?! He only lets Taehyung stay one night, only because he was raised to have good manners and care about others. There is no other reason, so he should stop trying to be all friendly with the younger. He'll walk out the door tomorrow again and hopefully, they won't see each other after that.

"We would have to share the mattress if you have any problem with that you are kindly invited to sleep on the floor," Yoongi says a little harsher than he intended. The words have slipped his tongue before he really thought about them. The small smile slips off Taehyung's lips and it really shouldn't bother Yoongi that much. No matter how nice the younger acted until now, it could very likely only be because he can see that Yoongi can't say no. Because Yoongi is too soft and cares too much. Maybe he's just using him? The elder quickly shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts. What does he care? It's not like he wants to be friends with the other.

"It's alright, I don't mind sharing." Taehyung is awkwardly staring at his feet now while Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyes getting caught once again on the dirty clothes.

"Do uhm, do you want to have some clothes to change into?" He asks, aware of the sudden high pitch in his voice. Why the hell is he so embarrassed now?

"Children's clothes?" The younger chuckles and Yoongi whips his head up, staring at him. No, he didn't imagine it. The mocking tone of the other's voice is mirrored in the way he stares down at him. Not only literally looking down on him. There's that obvious glint in his eyes, like his stare is saying 'I'm so much better than you.' Yoongi gulps. Maybe an asshole after all. Yoongi doesn't understand why his heart suddenly plummets down, almost falling to the floor.

"If you wanna be disrespectful you can step right out of this apartment again," he threatens instead of getting angry again. And it's like a sudden switch is turned, the arrogant smirk is replaced by downturned lips and Taehyung hurries to apologize. It feels weird. There is definitely something wrong with the younger but Yoongi doesn't want to get too invested. He's just letting him stay one night. That's it. Nothing more and tomorrow he can live on and pretend he never met Kim Taehyung.

"Better," he says in response to the stuttered apology. He's opening his closet to search through his things. Now he really wishes he would have cleaned in here yesterday like he originally wanted to. Maybe he would find things faster now. "I'm aware they're small, okay? Sorry, we don't have anything bigger here."

"Thanks," Taehyung mumbles as he takes the clothes without looking up or acknowledging Yoongi's apology.

"You can shower if you want or wait – Shower. You stink a little." Yoongi once again shoves the younger around, this time out of his room and in the direction of their small bathroom. He knows they have to hurry or else his aunt and cousins will occupy the bath. "You should hurry a bit though if you want to have the room to yourself and warm water. We don't get a lot and the old man downstairs is about to take his weekly shower – He always uses up all the hot water."

"Okay."

What has Yoongi gotten himself into?