LATE NIGHTS & WARM HUGS (MYG/JHS)

ten | 20:36

one fine night, hoseok decided to grab his roomie and his almost-roomie with him to have dinner. all because days have progressed and the cold-war between the two still lingers, even the others started to noticed, so before another painfully awkward dorm meeting is called— hoseok decides to take it on his hands to maybe fix this mess before it escalates into a bigger issue.

he's got a lot if reasons to himself and why this feud should end: first, because he's an absolute angel, everybody knows that. second, because rehearsals are getting more and more hellish with two members constantly glaring and purposely bumping unto each other. and lastly, fights with no absolute roots are ones that eat up so much time and may stress others too.

they don't have time for that jazz.

now, hoseok comes in terms with a fool-proof plan because he knew that someone has to do god's work, so he did.

luckily, both parties were more than glad about the invitation, they accepted the offer right away without knowing what actually was ahead of them; all to hoseok's delight.

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eight o'clock in the evening, the bustle and hustle of the diner silenced them as they found themselves sitting across one another, stabbing glares through each other's skulls in vexation and spitting words through passive aggressive mutters as the clock ticks and hoseok is yet to be seen.

if things were a little bit different, this will be a fine chance to make a move. in fact, jimin even bailed from another already set hang out to join for this one dinner. he might not directly admit but he dressed in hopes to impress. meanwhile, yoongi dropped his time for rest to eat dinner with hoseok—that's how damn important he is, even he was all dressed up, just in complete black though.

jimin was never hypersensitive with sounds, not until this very hour, but with yoongi's finger nails constantly tapping against the glass surface of the table? the younger man might just go insane.

“hyung," yoongi is kind enough to pause and meet his eyes, "please stop.” the elder continues and sends him shrug—he does not give a single fuck.

jimin only sighs in defeat. one. two. three. one. two. three. he clicks his tongue. he's so done. “what's taking him too long?” he says quietly, glancing at the floor to ceiling windows of the place.

“i would like to know that too.” yoongi snorts, as his back slithers down the chair little by little. as yoongi shrunk, a little more, the top of his head barely seen behind the menu, he turns from pages to pages of the said menu.

the elder man squints at his watch, frowning—forty minutes have passed.

“so jimin, what time are you leaving?”
“excuse me?”