✔️ Tongue-Tied ➳ vmin

iii. you can call me stupid (i'll just crack a smile): 🥕7🥕

iii. you can call me stupid (i'll just crack a smile)

Far from being deterred from Jimin's staunch refusals, said boy's efforts have hardly dwindled. In fact, much to Seungcheol and Jeonghan's mirth, they had on one instance discovered an alarmed Jimin wedged in the space between the vending machines in a bid to escape Taehyung (All I wanted was to hug you, Abs! Where'd you go?). The carrot haired idiot's determination is as fiery as his hair, and it's gotten to the point where even the mere mention of his name is enough to send Jimin bolting in the opposite direction, anything to get away from further public embarrassment.

So when Jimin finds Hoseok sitting on his bed one weekday night, a scowl immediately makes an appearance on his face. Swaggering into the room, he glowers at Hoseok grumpily.

"If you're here to make fun of me again, hyung," Jimin growls, "Or to ask about non-existent sex details, you might as well piss off. I've dealt with enough shit today."

Strangely, all but silence greets Jimin's ears, worryingly abnormal in Hoseok's company. Observing the hazel haired senior closely, Jimin notes the gloomy expression etched onto his usually jovial face, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown, knitted eyebrows drawing attention to his shadowed eyes, which usually twinkle in mischief. He looks like the weight of the world is chained to his shoulders, the sight bringing forth a twinge of concern from the younger boy.

"Hoseok-hyung?" he asks. "What's eating at you?"

Lifting his head, Hoseok makes an effort to squeeze out a tight-lipped smile to reassure Jimin, but all he manages is a grimace.

"Just tired," he mumbles wearily. "No sweat. Just asking if you feel like a drink."

Eyebrows flying upwards in mild surprise, Jimin takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall.

"Hyung, it's Tuesday."

"I know, but I'm desperate," Hoseok beseeches, tugging at Jimin's arm distraughtly. "Please, if not... I'm going mad! Jimin, you got to help me! It's just..." He breaths a shuddery breath, on the brink of tears. "So fucked up. Me... and him. I don't know anymore."

"Wait, is this..." Jimin pauses, everything suddenly clicking into place. Of course, how could he not notice the signs and the vibes. Oh god, is he stupid.

Scrutinizing the miserable boy before him, Jimin's facial expression remains unchanged, yet the machinery of his brain are whirring furiously. Hoseok squirms nervously.

"...Get your coat," he says after a spell, lips pursed in a tight line. "And tell Ricky."

The moment Jimin turns to face Seungcheol, the other boy's already removed his earbuds, giving him a thumbs up.

"Roger that."

**********

"Up you get, Hobie-hyung," Jimin squats down, encouraging a red-faced Hoseok, the chill of the night making them shiver. "Hurry up, before we're screwed."

"I'm screwed... he's screwed... she's screwed." Hoseok sways on the spot, gabbling inaudibly. "He's screwing, she's screwed."

After much persuasion and words of consolation ("No one's screwed then, okay?"), Jimin finally convinces a besotted Hoseok to clamber onto his back. His legs nearly buckling under Hoseok's dead weight, Jimin inhales sharply, hoisting the other boy onto his shoulders with all the strength he can muster. Tottering towards the open window (bless you, Ricky), he tries to maintain his balance, his muscles screaming in protest.

Hoseok meekly crawls through the window into his room. His weight makes Jimin feel like he's being squashed into the ground, the pressure exerted on his shoulders causing him to wince painfully. When he hears the telltale bump of Hoseok's body hitting the floor, Jimin wipes away the sweat accumulating on his forehead with a long breath.