awaiting for spring | y.s ✓

CHAPTER THIRTY.

Yoongi presses a cheek against the man's head, tightening his arms around his neck. He's not entirely sure if the world is slowly rocking back and forth around him or if the man he's currently piggy-backing on isn't walking straight, but he doesn't dare open his eyes in fear of finding out.

"You should've have drank that much," the man chastises quietly, and Yoongi internally agrees. He shouldn't have done all those shots thinking that it'd magically solve his problems, and his friends are a dick for encouraging it.

"...You think dad'll be mad?" Yoongi slurs slowly, even though he's not all that concerned. It's not like his dad doesn't know about his random drinking sessions with the other rich kids of Gangnam. He's never really cared as long as Yoongi had his bodyguard with him. Just like how none of this friends' father cared. That's not to say that Yoongi's father cold towards him. The opposite of that actually. Being the only child meant that Yoongi could get away with just about anything. 

"Heh...you're the best," Yoongi murmurs, a grin ghosting over his lips. The air is already quite chilly, signalling that summer has ended.

"Yet you make my life a living hell," the man jokes playfully, and Yoongi chuckles despite the way his head is still spinning a little.

"Can I tell you a lil'secret?"

"Sure."

"I really, really like you, you know...like really really."

"I know. And I like you too."

"No...you dun get it...I really really like you....like a lot...I know you think I'm just a kid...but I really like you...."

09

Hoseok wakes up wincing, suddenly all too aware of the bright ray of sunlight hitting him straight in the face. He however doesn't make an active effort to move out of its way or anything, simply settling for squirming around like a caterpillar to pull the blanket up over his head. In his still half-asleep state, he finds himself rather content with how soft the fabric feels against his skin. How inviting and comfortable whatever surface he's lying on is. How amazing everything feels.

Except he remembers that none of those traits describe his home.

Hoseok jolts awake, stupidly wondering if he's somehow died and has gone to heaven (wouldn't be all too surprised considering that freezing in his own house has become an actual possibility). He opens his eyes slowly, almost expecting to be sleeping on a cloud or something and then finds himself in a familiar apartment instead. Oh. Right. Yoongi's place.

The place is still quiet as Hoseok runs over the details of last night in his head. Ah, Yoongi must still be asleep, he figures. He's not sure what time it is, and at this point, he's feeling a bit too lazy to find out. He's clear for the rest of the day. No part-time job to go to. No class to attend. And he just revels in the sense of peace enveloping him. When was the last time he was able to relax like this and not be chased by time and pressure?

Hoseok stays where he is, staring at the ceiling above him.

And then something starts to bother him. Nothing big enough to truly get on his nerves, but there is an itching. Like an inkling that something's just off about the situation he's in.

It's not until a few good minutes later that Hoseok realizes the fact that he doesn't recall sleeping with a blanket. He does remember it being a bit chilly and worrying about getting sick himself, but somehow he's now sleeping comfortably in the living room with a soft blanket draped over him.

He knows who must've done it. He's just having a really difficult time accepting it.

Hoseok slowly gets off the couch, finding the piece of furniture not as comfortable now the thought is stuck in his head. He does his best to distract himself by focusing on his empty stomach. Judging from how much his stomach is protesting its state, it must be quite late into the day already. He finally reaches for his phone which he left on the kitchen counter and is surprised to see that its only slightly past 9 in the morning.

He contemplates checking up on Yoongi, just to make sure the man is 1. still in the apartment and 2. alive and breathing, and it's the logical thing to do given the situation, but why is it that he's having a difficult time forcing his hand to knock on the damn door. What in the world is he so nervous about all of a sudden? Just because Yoongi decided to be a decent human being and come out and pull a blanket over him? What is wrong with you, Jung Hoseok?

Yet Hoseok ends up spending a solid block of time just standing in front of the wooden door, his hand raised awkwardly but refusing to make contact with the actual surface. Figuring that he should probably stop being so stupid, Hoseok knocks, inhaling sharply and holding his breath as he waits for some kind of a response. It's quiet, almost eerily so, so he thinks for a moment that Yoongi has perhaps left the apartment on his own again. He knocks again just to make sure and is greeted by a rustling sound coming from the other side.

Hoseok waits, waiting for some kind of a verbal cue. A come inor just a minute or anything that is more than just random rustling. Then he hears footsteps, followed by the door clicking open, and as he expects, he sees Yoongi in a black hoodie peering at him. The other teen looks a lot better than he had been the previous night. Definitely breathing more easily. He may still seem a bit paler than usual but not sickly so, and the red tinge that had accompanied his fever seems to be gone for the most part as well.

"Oh. Did I wake you?" Hoseok asks rather dumbly once he realizes that he's been just staring at the silent teen in front of him. Yoongi shakes his head slowly before staring back at Hoseok as if he's expecting something. Hoseok has no idea what, so he settles for scratching the back of his head and asking if the man wants to have breakfast.

"No, I'm good," Yoongi answers verbally this time, his voice still scratchy and coming off more as a croak than anything else.

"You should eat. Probably take some medication too eventhough you're feeling better. Just in case," Hoseok explains, taking a few steps backwards to give room for the other man to make his way into the living room. Yoongi glances at him one more time before walking past him slowly, his steps still heavy but not as unstable as they had been a few hours ago. "I'll fix some porridge. And maybe something with eggs. That should be easy to digest," Hoseok continues, taking the lack of verbal response as an affirmative. Yoongi doesn't put up a fight, so Hoseok settles for returning to the kitchen. Good thing Mr. Kim Namjoon had the foresight to buy them extra food.

Hoseok is just about to pour some oil into a pot when he spots Yoongi standing behind him in the kitchen as well, his hands shoved into the pocket of the black hoodie he's wearing. His eyes are fixated on nothing in particular, choosing to scan the counter and the table as if he's absentmindedly searching for something.

"You need something?" Hoseok asks, the bottle of cooking oil forgotten in his hand. Yoongi bites his lower lip and nibbles on it, his brows furrowed in concentration or contemplation, that much is uncertain.

"Do you...need help?" Yoongi asks barely audibly, and if the fan was already on, Hoseok would have missed it completely. Hoseok blinks slowly, mulling over the words and wondering if he somehow misheard "get out of the apartment" or "I don't want to eat anything," but Yoongi is standing only a few feet away from him, shifting nervously in his place, and Hoseok isn't sure exactly what to make of it.

"Um. Are you sure?" Hoseok begins uncertainly, gauging for reaction. "I mean, you're still kinda sick. You should probably...rest?"

"I'm fine."