LIBEROSIS ✓ ʸᵒᵒⁿʲⁱⁿ

wrong

Up until the roommates step through Hoseok's front door about half an hour later, Yoongi had forgotten one crucial fact: he absolutely despised parties, especially the kind that his best friend is now currently hosting. He prefers to be in peaceful solitude, listening to different genres of music through his earphones, sometimes reading a book while doing so. Other times, he'd just lie on his bed and close his eyes, contemplating a multitude of things while his soft, calming playlist resonated in his ears. Those moments, for him, are what make life worth living.

So now — as he's abruptly being engulfed in a crowded room full of sweaty, often dancing people, the unpleasant reek of cheap alcohol and soju, and ear-splitting music that was cranked up so high it must be blasting throughout the whole damn building — Yoongi groans, half regretting his rash decision already although he'd barely taken five steps into the room.

He feels bad for Hoseok's neighbors. They would definitely not be getting a good night's sleep at this rate, and the said male would probably have to face about ten to fifteen noise complaints throughout the whole night. However, when Yoongi spots him, his first thought is that the red-haired boy wouldn't give a single fuck no matter how many noise complaints he got, and his jaw drops in utter shock and bewilderment. He'd mentioned before that he dances, but he didn't tell him he was this fucking good at it.

In the middle of the dance floor, all eyes are on Hoseok, and you can tell he feeds off of the crowd's enthusiastic cheering by the way he freestyles his dance so perfectly, every movement and sway and pop of his joints smooth and flawless. There is an undeniable fire blazing in his eyes, fueled by an omnipresent, incredible passion for this, and his smile is unlike any Uoongi has ever seen him sport before. He's seen cocky, genuine, teasing, and a whole other array of them, but Hoseok's smile now is as bright as the sun, overflowing with ecstasy. He radiates such a positive and infectious aura that Yoongi soon finds himself smiling, too, and he is even more surprised when he feels his body move of its own accord, matching the music's beats.

"Damn, this place is huge—woah. Who's that?"

The voice startles him, and Yoongi turns his head to the side. He blames the adrenaline rush seeing his best friend dance gave him when he senses the heat creeping up on his face as he takes in the sight of his roommate beside him.

While Seokjin's gaze is transfixed on Hoseok, Yoongi grabs the opportunity to survey (and no, check out is definitely not the word for this) his figure, and god, how did he not fully notice and appreciate what he was wearing earlier?

He sports a blood red shirt under a jacket patterned with thin white and blue stripes and other designs, including a collar that's pretty much the same hue as his shirt, the sleeves covering three-fourths of his arms. His upper clothes are all tucked into a pair of ripped baggy jeans with a slender black leather belt, complete with white, low-cut Converse shoes. His usually messy hair is styled nicely, his bangs falling prettily on his forehead. [a/n: see the picture above]

Anyone with eyes, especially girls, would trip over themselves to get with him, and he sees this very thing start to happen as females all around gawk and stare at him hungrily. Yoongi rolls his eyes at this. How typical of them. Well, why not? he thinks. He's absolutely breathtaking.

Wait. Time out. Back the fuck up. Did he really just think that? Shit. He runs a hand through his hair and groans in frustration. He isn't gay. He can't possibly be. He's just acknowledging (okay, maybe he's admiring it too, but screw that) Seokjin's aesthetics. Nothing gay about that. Right? Shit, shit, shit—

"Yoongi? Are you okay? Who is he?"

The mint-haired boy blinks and stutters out a response to avoid awkwardness. "U-Um, sorry, I—ugh, never mind. Yeah, I'm fine. That's Hoseok, my best friend, the guy who's throwing this party."