A Boy Named Kookie

A Little Modern

It is weird waking up in the dorm, the box-like space is so quiet. At Jin's apartment, there is always the warmth of noise whether his incessant humming, little coos from Jungkook, or the soft trills of the television. My room is pretty standard in terms of decoration, adding personal touches requires too much work. I simply eat, sleep, and sometimes study in the sanctioned accommodation. The only part of the dorm that reflects any inkling of personality is my bed and the rather large closet that takes up the westward wall. My closet is the haven for little Yoongi, plush, toys, clothing, and other little space necessities overflow its confines. The room I use at Jin's apartment has the most decoration and that's because Jin insisted that I make the space mine. It wasn't until recently that, that included little Yoongi.

Yesterday was borderline stressful, what with trying to sneak a six-month-old child into a college class and pretend he wasn't there. I still haven't gotten the full story from Jin but apparently, he was able to work it out with the Professor so that Jungkook could stay with Jin as long as he stayed focused during class. Jin came by and we ate some pizza I had ordered and then took Jungkook home so they could do their regular nightly routine. I didn't really want to stay in the lonely dorm, god knows little me didn't, but since class begins at 10 today I decided it made more sense to sleep here than commute so early.

Speaking of class, my phones alerts me that it is 9:30 so I grab my workout bag and the rest of my scattered belongings heading to the door. I only have to walk two buildings over to reach the dance studio, but I like to get there early and snatch up a spot in the back row. The class isn't even a real class, it is some intro to modern dance where we flop around and assume people can see the deep meaning despite looking intoxicated. Most of the class entails learning how to portray emotion through movement so the instructor, the insufferable Jung Hoseok, gives us music to make a story to with our bodies. I, Min Yoongi, barely know how to speak feelings let alone move my arms to tell you my lover has left me to some harp piece. This is why I head to the back so said instructor cannot see me fail miserably. Most of the time he leaves me alone, but after I told him where he can put his 'leaf' like hand movements he makes sure to make his way over to my corner and critique.

The trek takes a little over 10 minutes so I head to the open studio and place my things where I usually do and stand doing minimal stretches so that I appear willing. My facade quickly gets caught as when Hoseok enters at the front of the room he zeros in on my frumpy form. He makes a come here motion and I simply pretend I didn't see him and reach towards my water bottle. Thinking I bypassed an awkward encounter and drinking the cool liquid, I never saw the shadow side up beside mine. So when I spin around a squeak leaves me. Jung Hoseok stands with his hands clutching at my arms, folded against my chest, trying to steady my toppling form.

"Careful, hyung. Wouldn't want you falling for me." A smirk splits his lips and I jerk myself from his grip.

"Let me go!" I hiss.

"Woah, I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries, I wanted to let you know that I will be in the studio next week for practice sessions. I know you have been struggling, so I wanted to give you a chance to learn without the pressure of a full class. Your first exam is a little over a week from now, just give it some thought." His mocha colored eyes crinkle and a stupid heart-shaped smile give him an almost understanding expression. His sympathy makes big Yoongi want to punch him, but little Yoongi needs the reassurance of his kind eyes. The two clash and I step back blush coloring my pale complexion.

"I..I'll think about it, but the class should be starting. Go do your job, dancing boy." With a parting glance, he spins on his heel and addresses the class starting the stretch routine. I feel like dying, well, more than usual. No matter what I do, I look like a dumbass in front of him. I get a couple stares from surrounding students, but we quickly start toe touches and my focus shifts to actually breathing and not passing out from the exercise. Who said music producers were athletically gifted, oh right, no one.

Three hours later and I lay on the ground my limbs melted from the exertion of trying to keep up with the never tired Hoseok. People begin to get their belongings and step around my starfished form. The cool laminate almost feels refreshing if it weren't for the sweaty sweatshirt clinging to my torso. Luckily I wore shorts and so my legs receive the air blowing from the rinky fan off to the side of the studio. Deciding to sit up I take the gross sweatshirt off and reveal my black tank top. In the mirror, I can see Hoseok talking to another student so I take my time standing and slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Ah, Mr. Min the last student, something I never thought I would see. You usually run off before I even dismiss the class." I just give him a stern look and he guffaws a good-natured laugh meeting me in the center of the room. "Okay... wait are those tattoos?" His eyes widen and an incredulous look scrunches up his face. I immediately feel defensive and stand up straighter. He throws his hands out towards me, "Wait, don't take that the wrong way. I just didn't see you like someone to have them, can I see?" Not sure how to proceed I turn my left forearm over to show the black and aquamarine paint splatter design that reminds me of a mix of both Yoongi's now that I look at it's soft but harsh curves.

"Oh uh, this is my first one. I got it my junior year despite the wishes of Jin, my mom like best friend." I still as the dancer runs his fingers across the ink staining the milky white. He looks up at me with an awed expression. Little Yoongi perks his head up at the attention and before I can stop my self I pull the leg of my shorts up so he can see the tattoo on my right thigh. This time the paint like design is slashed in an erratic fashion. The black curved lines look angry yet sad, describing the way I felt hiding the little space from myself and Jin. My mother was an artist before life got in the way and as a way to recapture her, I chose the paint emulated designs. I watch the fascinated boy fight to not trace the second unveiled tattoo. "This is the second tattoo I got my first year of college, as you can see it was a rough time."

I try to laugh it off but the other boy's expression is too emotional and I feel the anxiety set in. Before his fingertips can make contact I jolt back dropping the pant leg back into place. "I have to go, Jin needs me to babysit" The words rush past my bitten lips. I turn keeping my emotions barely in check. The door is within reach when his voice calls out.

"Wait, Yoongi!"

"No, I can't waste anymore time." I don't even bother to look back at the confused boy. My mind made up. The modern dance guy is going to wreck little Yoongi, so it is up to big Yoongi to keep the boy at a distance. What I'm really afraid of is both of us will let him into our fragile heart and Hoseok will make a mess of the barely together pieces wrecked by childhood abandonment. I can't bear to allow anyone in other than Jin who has loved me since the beginning, broken and all.