#self awarness

He can’t help lift his eyebrows as he reads the message. What would Yoongi possibly have anything to talk with him? 

you: sure! 

yoongi: great i’ll go to yours

yoongi: is 7 okay? 

you: i’ll see you then 

And when he sends it. It does seem okay, really. But as the hours creep on through the rest of the day it's impossible to stop his mind from wandering. Namjoon is sure he can count with one hand the times Yoongi has actively asked to see him, let alone ‘talk’? There’s nothing to talk about. They've been friends for decades now with a perfect record. 

Namjoon isn’t as nervous as he is just plain curious. He knows Yoongi through and through, after all. Though… When the doorbell rings, around 7, like they agreed, the man Namjoon sees at the door is nearly unrecognisable. 

Once lithe, almost frail looking Yoongi, had the width of almost Namjoon’s doorway. Round all the way, gut jutting forward pillowy but massive as it sagged over the waistband of his pants, nearly hiding his crotch entirely. Pink underbelly peeking from his shirt, table-cloth-sized shirt unable to cover all of it. Quite the contrary, it clung to the swollen protruding belly. The rolls that stacked on his sides from his juicy love handles all the way to the roll under his arm looked squeezed by the fabric. Thick along his waist and becoming bigger as they collected some of the fat from his newfound moobs; saggy and obscene-looking. Namjoon didn’t have to look to assume all that fat spilling to the sides, pushing Yoongi’s fattened tubby arms away from his torso, was probably showing as girthy back rolls behind him. 

Namjoon has to remind himself that Yoongi had a head, looking up to the steam dumpling shaped pudgy face. He’s having a hard time deciphering if this is just his normal tired looking face, or if all the fat hanging from his cheeks and under his jaw is making all that much more poutier and cute.

“You texted first!” He can’t help but beam. If his voice sounds just a little squeakier it has nothing to do with the nerves he was struck with. Abruptly moving to the side to make room for Yoongi to come in. Luckily he doesn't think much of Namjoon’s enthusiastic tone, smiling a bit as he waddled his way in. 

“Don’t make such a fuss about it or it won’t happen again.” His voice sounds so breathless, and as he walks past Namjoon the older’s girth truly becomes noticeable. In a way Namjoon is glad Yoongi has had the spare key all these years… He is not sure they would’ve fit in the elevator. Still through the shock of his own thoughts, he can tell Yoongi is doing that thing where he brushes Namjoon off instead of letting himself feel flustered over a comment. 

But he knows by now, even if he likes to pretend not to, Yoongi loves the reassurance. 

“Let me celebrate at least a little.” Even if he’s the one speaking, Yoongi’s deep breathing resonates through the living room as he lazily makes his way towards the couch. Ungracefully letting his weight fall onto it. Namjoon is sure he can see the pillows and springs underneath them dent into the shape of his wide ass; if the loud creak is anything to go by. “Anything to drink?” He would’ve offered anyway… Namjoon is pretty sure he would've. But Yoongi’s subtle wheezing is encouraging to say the least. 

“Any whiskey?” 

“So it's that type of night.” Namjoon can’t help but snort. And Yoongi chuckles right back, even if he is sitting, the laugh alone makes his fat ripple. That on its own enough to force Namjoon to turn on his heel towards the kitchen. “You know I do.” 

“You can have some whiskey for your celebration.” Namjoon hears him as he gets the two whiskey glasses and his bottle. “Don’t let it get to your head, though. I had to invite myself over before you invited me to Hoseok’s, to work out.” 

He giggles then, Yoongi’s underlying melodrama never ceases to amaze him. But returning to the living room with an adorable looking out on his lips. Namjoon knows it's serious. Though he can’t help his endeared smile from staying on his face, dimpling his cheeks. “Where did you get that idea?” 

“Who do you think?” Yoongi’s unamused tone is even funnier as Namjoon hands him a glass. “He won’t leave me alone!”  His eyes bulge out, and his pout becomes even bigger in a way that's sickeningly endearing; the flip on Namjoon’s stomach definitely agrees. 

“Hobi hyung was always really intense about his lifestyle…” An apologetic smile grows on his face, and it's worth it for the scoff that makes Yoongi’s entire body ripple from the expressive movement. 

“It was never this… targeted.” He eyes Namjoon with a knowing look. Frightening but somehow relieving in its own way. Like he is allowed to talk about it. 

“Ah…” He finds himself nodding, maybe a bit nervously. Even with the acknowledgement, he doesn’t know how much Namjoon is allowed to say, to comment on. Maybe he doesn’t trust himself to do so accordingly. Luckily Yoongi goes on for him. 

“He treats me like I’m about to appear in one of those obese-people American shows!” He huffs sitting up straighter, entire body following the movement with jiggles. “I got fat, but he treats me like a ticking time bomb!” 

“Just fat?” Namjoon can’t help himself. Can’t stop himself before it's out and Yoongi is looking at him with widened eyes and ajar lips. His own face burning, brain fumbling over what to say.

“Last time I got a check up. Yes.” Yoongi’s tone is cautious. He raises his eyebrow in a way that tries to be threatening, but inevitably eases Namjoon’s nerves. “Watch yourself.” The squeaky laugh that slips past Namjoon’s chest feels like the pressure lifting from his chest; how he’s been holding his breath. 

“How long ago was that check up?” Feeling a little bit more comfortable he leans teasingly to ask. But gets weakly shoved back to his spot. 

“Long enough I already have my next appointment booked! Yah!” Namjoon’s body goes limp in laughter, letting himself fall against the armrest of the couch. “This is exactly why I came over.” He huffs quietly, shaking his head and taking a sip, but the little smile on his lips gives him away. It always does. 

“I just can’t blame Hoseok for worrying.” 

“It’s not just worrying.” Yoongi deadpans, looking a tad more serious than before. “I was always unfit, now I’m just unfit and fat.” Just fat, Namjoon’s mind prompts unhelpfully. “If he wants to fuss over anyone, why doesn’t he fuss over Jimin? He looks heavier than me.”

“I think he said something about Jimin going to his yoga classes.” He pursed his lips trying to think back to his last conversation with the gym instructor.  Only getting a ‘tsk’ in response from the older, taking a rather long sip of whiskey. “But wait, what do I have to do with any of this?” 

“Seok-ah keeps telling me you’re going, therefore I should go.” Namjoon snorts. “Or that I should talk to you and you’ll be able to tell me everything about how fucking amazing those classes are.” He can’t hold his laugh then.

“I went to two of his classes, like 2 months apart from one another.” And he looks at Yoongi’s reaction for his next confession. “And for the last one I ditched it 10 minutes in to drink a protein shake by the changing rooms and almost passed out.” 

Yoongi seems as stunned at Namjoon’s words as Namjoon is of having said them out loud. Gummy smile growing in his face alleviating some of the pressure of the suffocating silence. “Does he know?” 

“He’d have to be deluded to have not noticed.” 

“He is deluded.” Yoongi snorts entertained. “Acting like he is better than all of us while he chubs up.” 

All of us? 

Namjoon can’t help shift a bit uncomfortable, shrugging with pursed lips. “He is the fittest one of the group. That much is true.” His eyes scatter away from Yoongi’s raised eyebrow. “Some of us are just fitter…” The snort the older lets out is enough to make his head snap back towards Yoongi. “What?” 

“You’re not telling me you're fit, are you?” His tone is insultingly amused. 

“What's that tone supposed to mean?” Namjoon doesn’t need an argument to say to get defensive with. He can get defensive all on his own, thank you very much. 

“Right, because all fit people have little sneak outs to chug protein shakes after 10 minutes of exercise.” With an insane level of audacity Yoongi snorts. Shaking his head, Namjoon’s eyes dug daggers into the older “You were never fit, Joon-ah.” 

Their eyes meet then, warm and teasing against the younger’s glaringly defensive gaze. Namjoon remembers then, with a bit of horror, that Yoongi knows him just as thoroughly as he knows him. He feels naked, seen in places he doesn’t want to be seen. 

It feels like they aren’t just talking about fitness. 

“Guess you have a point.” Is all he can say, in an attempt to push the conversation elsewhere, his eyes look into his whiskey glass and take a sip himself. Ever perceptive, Yoongi seems to take a hint. 

“Where’s Jungkook?” He peeks a bit into the kitchen, not leaving the comfort of the couch of course. He seems to be denting it permanently. “Working out?” And okay, the teasing smile that grows in his adorably round face is kind of funny. 

“Pft.” Namjoon can’t help but smile back, warmth contagious as it spreads along his chest. “Don’t joke like that or he might take you to the gym with him, he did it to me.” Even with his joking tone, his eyes widened in warning. 

“Oh! So that's three times you went to the gym!” Yoongi chirps patting his back, with a squeaky laugh making his body shake lively. Only for Namjoon to roll his eyes and swat his hand away. “But seriously where is he?” His voice is a little breathless from the laughter, some reminiscent jiggling on his belly from it too. 

“He’s out with Tae-ah. Didn’t bother telling me where. Brat.” 

“So that's why it's so peaceful.” Yoongi seems to sink even further into the couch. 

“Is it? Maybe for you.” He deadpans and only gets a new wave of giggles out of the older. 

“Is Namjoonie feeling attacked?” Even with the sickeningly sweet tone of his voice, coated with sarcasm, there’s still no malice to his voice. Leaning closer to the younger, so his belly sags to the side of his lap, pliant and enticing. “I’ll stop with the comments, I’m sorry.” 

Taking the apology seriously would mean something was actually wrong. That something actually rang true. So Namjoon smiles charmingly, turning his head to Yoongi, whose face is closer than he anticipated. Without looking he can feel some of his overhang brushing his thigh. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay for dinner to make it up to me.” 

Yoongi smiles like he has something to say about that. But luckily he keeps it to himself. Smiling back, softer than before. “Deal.” 

“Wanna see the beats I’ve been working on?” That manages to knock Yoongi’s smile off his face into a stunned expression. 

“You’re producing again?!” He feels quite satisfied when that same shock manifests in Yoongi’s voice, low hanging jaw making his double chin ever more prominent. 

“I’ve got more free time than ever. Come.” He gets up decisively from the couch, and the same can’t be said about Yoongi. Who is looking at Namjoon almost pouting. Taking a big chunk of the couch unapologetically.

“Can’t you just bring your laptop over?” A smile grows on Namjoon’s face. 

“I switched to a PC a few months ago.” He still has his old laptop, but Yoongi doesn’t need to know that. Maybe he wants to see Yoongi move a little; for a completely different reason than Hoseok does. 

“Ah…” He smiles then, as if trying to brush it off. “It really has been a while since I texted first.” Namjoon's smile only becomes more pleased. “Okay then. You win.” He chuckles though leaning forward with his hand on the armrest of the couch. Grunting a little as his wobbly knees lift his body off the couch. 

Except he doesn’t. His ass lifts a bit before falling back down. 

The couch makes a dangerous creaky noise. 

Namjoon has to hide his stunned expression as his belly makes a loud slapping sound when it falls against his lap. Fat rippling from his belly to his cheeks. He won’t look at Namjoon, but he is sure Yongi can feel his eyes on him, looking down at the belly that takes over his lap, sagging between his thighs, and keeping him pinned to the couch. 

Maybe that's what motivates Namjoon to put his hand forward in a silent offering. Trying to keep the cockiness off his smile. Especially when Yoongi looks up and accepts it, beginning to swing again as Namjoon makes an effort to pull when Yoongi is leaning forward. 

Nothing could have prepared him for how heavy he was. Nearly slipping himself onto the couch too against Yoongi. Namjoon grunts a bit in effort, if he weren’t as focused on not falling into Yoongi, he would’ve been polite enough to try and conceal it. The older’s other hand gripping the couch’s armrest as another form of support as he finally stands up. Belly bumping into Namjoon’s. 

“That grunt was unnecessary.” He looks up at him, now the entire heft of his gut separating them. But the breathless tone of his voice and the hint of pink dusting his cheeks strips his words from any bite. 

“The grunt was unintentional.” Namjoon’s smile is kind but truthful. “You’re not that easy to manhandle anymore, huh?” He regrets his choice of words as soon as they come out. Manhandle? Really?! Luck must be on his side, since again Yoongi opts to not mention the information he knows about Namjoon’s…preferences. 

They were dumb teens back then, but if he could turn back time, he would’ve stopped them from sharing their kinks back when they were in highschool. Barely discovering their sexuality and the intricacies in their preferences. 

Manhandling, one of their shared interests. 

“Finally. Yeah.” Yoongi chuckles as he walks past Namjoon, side completely brushing the younger’s torso as he easily makes his way to Namjoon’s room. Even if he isn’t one to text first, Yoongi still has been here enough to know the place like the back of his hand. Hell, he helped Namjoon unpacked when he first moved!

And yes. From the back he can definitely see the back rolls he had anticipated. Though no level of preparation would have spared him from the impact of said rolls clinging to his shirt in a way that forces the hem up his love handles with each step. Milky soft skin, covered in pink stretch marks. Namjoon’s hands itch to trace them, if he hadn’t been taken aback by the wobbling of his ass and thighs. Striking him with the fact that even if his weight settled mostly on his belly, Yoongi had softened truly all over. Even the flabby back of his arms ripple with each heavy step. He is sure the neighbours can hear. 

Yoongi doesn’t ask to sit in Namjoon’s chair, rather groaning in relief at the sight of it, waiting for him. As all the younger can do is wince at the dangerous creak it lets out, much like the couch; except he doesn’t trust the 6 year old screws of the chair as much as he did the springs of the couch. 

“Show me.” Even if bossy, Yoongi’s face rounds out with a giddy gummy smile, chubby hand already taking the mouse and making his way through Namjoon’s computer like it's his own. It wouldn’t be like there's anything for him to hide… He deleted all his downloaded porn when Yoongi stumbled on it the first time when they were still barely beginning to meet each other. Real ice breaker. 

“Ah, in the FL Studio folder. Yah!” He chuckles a bit nervously, blushing for something completely different than the effects of Yoongi’s body on his perverted mind. “They’re really not that great, scrappy at bes-”

“Shut up.” He opens the first one. And Namjoon complies just in time for the first beat to play. Though it's unceremoniously interrupted by the growling of Yoongi’s stomach, a roar strong enough his fat wobbles along with it. As if to show truly how empty he is, needy for more. Yoongi pauses it then. “No, okay, I can’t appreciate them like this.”

“Dinner?” Namjoon guesses, his eyes still taking in the sight of Yoongi squeezed into his chair. Plump hips spilling from underneath the armrests, that dig into his side as well. Back looking too broad for the backrest, wide but gentle curve of his shoulders making him look softened but somehow sturdier than he was before. 

He has to rethink all of those manhandling fantasies that hunted him in his early 20s. And replace Yoongi as the main character from all of them. If anything, it looks like Yoongi would be the one heavy enough to pin Namjoon down. Nope, not going down that route, 

“Please, yes.” Namjoon is sure the older didn’t mean to be whiny, but demanding. But the permanent pout on his lips makes him giggle. “Just tell me what you’re craving so hyungie can buy your forgiveness.” “Oh I had already forgotten about that! Nice.” He reaches out into Jungkook’s room to look for his desk chair. Disappointed to find a normal dining table chair. Right, he changed it a few days ago… Something about needing a replacement. Better ‘lumbar support’, right. He walks back into the room with the stiff chair. He’s been avoiding these, Jungkook too, rather eating on the couch or in their rooms when the other is out. But it’ll do. 

“So?” 

“Honestly… I’m just craving dessert for dinner.” His smile is shy but Yoongi’s enthusiastic nodding. As the younger sits beside him, this chair is so uncomfortable. No wonder they stopped using them. 

“I was so worried about you being turned into a health freak by Seok, I ate dinner before coming. So you didn't over me like… a kale pancake or something.” He snorts. Looking for bakeries on his phone, before glancing up and down at Namjoon. “Now I know, I had nothing to worry about.” He says teasingly. 

“You never did.” Namjoon can’t help but say assertively, feeling particularly trapped in his chair. “I don’t eat meat, but I still have good taste.” But he makes sure to make his huffing more playful this time. Shifting uncomfortable in the sharp edges of the chair that dig into the back of his thighs. “What are you ordering anyway?” Yoongi eyes him, unconvinced of not only Namjoon’s defence, but his change of subject as well. 

“Trust me. I know what you like.” 

You know too much. He holds back from saying. Or worse. I know what you like too.

“There. Should arrive soon.” He puts his phone on the desk. Namjoon must’ve missed it when he took it from his back pocket, the struggle it must’ve been. Unless he was hiding it someplace else, in one of his folds. 

And he is already thinking about unrealistic expectations he got from porn. This is why Namjoon doesn’t trust himself around the subject. Too disgusted by his own carnal desires to even consider inflicting them on his friends. But his mind works against him. He forces himself to relax then, leaning back on the chair, trying to focus on the uncomfortable feeling of his chair rather than the twisting of the pit of his stomach.

“You know, we could’ve just gone to the kitchen and see what we find.” Namjoon’s dimpled smile tries to be easy-going, before it becomes teasing. “Instead of stopping everything we are doing until the delivery gets here.” 

“Oh I’m not standing up again.” His smile is wide but he shakes his head like he means it. “Unless you want to help me again; cause I’m pretty nestled in.” As if it wasn’t obvious enough, Yoongi’s hand grips onto the fat of his stomach moving it with a force that sends jiggles all across. The fat that's overspilling onto the armrest slapping against it at the same rhythm of his hands movements. 

Namjoon tries to disguise his choking as a cackle. “Suddenly, I don’t mind waiting.” He deadpans and feels accomplished when Yoongi giggles with him. Or at least, Yoongi looked convinced until his smile turned smug and satisfied.

“That’s what I thought.” 

Yoongi knows what he likes. His mind reminds him. Even this. 

“So who do you usually call to help you get up when you’re at home?” That was his attempt at a subject change. Though it's only once it leaves his lips, and Yoongi’s eyebrows go up to his hairline, he realises that he’s failed disastrously. 

“I don’t need help getting up.” Yoongi chuckles a bit, though Namjoon’s expression must be completely unconvinced. So he adds. “Not every time...” 

“What did you call yourself before?” His fingers scratch along his chin dramatically and teasing. “Just fat?” Okay, yes he’s definitely failed at trying to move away from the elephant in the room. 

The elephant that's sitting on his desk chair. 

“Enough!” He groans but Namjoon releases pressure in the form of a squeaky laugh, rubbing Yoongi’s shoulder apologetically. “It’s not like a doctor's opinion would change anything.” Its Namjoon’s turn to raise his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know…” He shrugs, eyes avoiding Namjoon’s. “Even if he told me I was obese… I doubt I’d do anything about it.” 

Oh. 

“Oh…” It's all he can reply, dumbly. For better or worse, Yoongi takes this as an invitation to explain himself. 

“Yeah I can’t go back now.” He chuckles endeared towards Namjoon. “I don’t remember ever having enjoyed myself this much.” The chair creaks even more when Yoongi leans back to caress the centre of his stomach gently. 

Namjoon is at a loss of words. Not trusting himself he replies. “That great, huh?” Eyes diverting from Yoongi’s now gigantic hand up to the screen in front of them. His face is warming up, the room feels smaller and the fucking chair getting tighter by the second. Or that might just be the knot in his stomach. 

“You would know.” Yoongi eyes him with a knowing smirk, one that makes a lump form at the base of Namjoon’s throat. 

Is he talking about Namjoons fetish? Or something else?

He doesn’t get the time to ponder on it, since the doorbell rings. It doesn’t look like Yoongi will get up to get it. 

“Be right back.” He mumbles a bit lost in the older’s words. Getting up maybe a bit too abruptly from his chair, judging the way it creaks back and he nearly stumbles into his desk. On autopilot as he rushes to the door; only to be faced with a poor delivery guy trying to carry multiple bags into Namjoon’s apartment complex. It's instinctive when he reaches out to help. 

“Thanks big guy.” He smiles as Namjoon takes the bags into his hands. Too concentrated in not dropping anything to even react to the comment. The delivery guy gets on his bike rushing off. And only when he is on the elevator does he think about it again. 

Big guy?

He guesses the delivery guy was a bit scrawny… 

Yoongi’s groan can be heard as soon as he opens the door to his apartment. “Finally!” 

“Don’t be greedy!” Namjoon yells back, a little breathless; the bags were heavier than he expected. Huffing a bit as he walks into the room, where Yoongi took the courtesy of shifting the chair to face Namjoon, gummy smile bright on his face. It makes up for the exertion of getting the heavy order. 

“How much did you even buy?” He chuckles a bit, setting them in front of his computer. Yoongi looked through it immediately. 

“Dessert! You can save some for Jungkook if you want.” His chubby hands pull out boxed cupcakes, cake slices, nutella stuffed cookies. 

“Dessert is one way to call it.” He snorts a bit. “You bought their entire stock.” It's lighthearted teasing, and Yoongi for sure is aware of his own appetite. But he blushes pink. 

“Just didn’t want to go hungry.” Yoongi shrugs, rather focusing on the bags. There's something liberating about being able to openly tease, and seeing Yoongi’s reaction to him; because he knows. Namjoon had dreams like this. 

“Can you go hungry? You don’t let yourself even think about feeling it before you are ordering something” His eyebrow raises, and his chair gets promptly shoved to the side. Though Yoongi barely manages to move him an inch. His fat arms too weak to even push Namjoon. 

“I meant for the both of us, ass.” He rolls his eyes, but hands Namjoon the box of cupcakes. Chocolate ones, his favourite. 

“Yeah, but I have a normal appetite.” Namjoon says endearly but begins to unwrap the first one. Fluffy and perfectly moist with rich frosting on top. And it doesn’t disappoint, biting into it easily and the deep chocolate flavour takes over his senses. “I don’t need all this to stop my hunger.” He eyes Yoongi who’s gone for the red velvet cookies. 

“You don’t?” That question shouldn't sound as genuine as it does. With Yoongi’s raised eyebrow and muffled voice; red crumbs already dusting the corners of his lips. 

“No?” Namjoon’s own voice is muffled by a full bite of cupcake. His mind a mess trying to untangle the assumptions in Yoongi’s question. Namjoon’s always had more appetite than Yoongi, but it would be ridiculous to think that stayed the same throughout the older’s weight gain.

“Oh– Well I just thought…” Even with the awkwardness of his voice, Yoongi’s eyes trail up and down Namjoon’s body quickly. “Nevermind.” The chuckle sounds endeared, but nevertheless a tad embarrassed. It only leaves Namjoon in an impossibly more nervous state of mind. 

Maybe that's why his hand forces the next cupcake entirely in one go. Yoongi seems to resort to the same. Finding comfort in the rich chocolate taste, the cupcakes aren’t that big. And they’re too fluffy to be filling, in spite of the thick layer of frosting on top. That’s probably the reason why Namjoon feels so at ease working his way through it. But even with the choir of eating noises in the empty apartment, Namjoon still feels a need to ask. 

“What is it?” The six cupcakes are gone, he is licking his fingers clean of the frosting. Yoongi eyes the younger. But his hands are much more urgent than his, reaching for anything that he can shovel down his mouth in as little bites as possible. Right now it seems to be cookies and cream donut. Or well… Donuts the whole 6 pack of them. Grabbing two at once and squishing them together just to stretch his lips around them. Desperate to satiate his hunger in ways that are downright animalistic. Namjoon feels like he forgot his own question. 

“I don’t know… That you would use this entire Enhanced-boom for…” He shrugs vaguely. Now entirely avoiding Namjoon’s confused stare. “With your kink and all…” Namjoon’s belly twists almost painfully; stunned by the way Yoongi just purses his lips shrugging. “You always talked about gaining weight…” 

He is painfully reminded of just how close he and Yoongi are. Nights in their early twenties when they could talk about what they craved. What they thought was impossible. 

“It was just a fantasy, hyung.” It's Namjoon’s turn to look away, reaching for a cheesecake slice. Hoping the thickness of it can smooth out the growing lump in his throat. His own chewing sounds hopefully loud enough to mute out Yoongi’s words and the way they bounce around in his head. The older leans closer, with a dangerous creak from his chair. 

“Yeah, I know.” His chewing is loud too, helping to muffle out everything going on in his head. “But isn’t it the perfect time to put it to the test?” From the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see the way the fatty side of Yoongi’s body spills from the armrest, the way his weight is enough to tilt the chair slightly to the side; with threatening creaks. 

It's becoming a bit overwhelming. The warmthness in his stomach, only starting to become comfortably full. The uncomfortable wood of the chair, the even more uncomfortable questions that hang in the air above them. Yoongi’s looming presence irradiating heat onto Namjoon, his open mouth chewing, the chair’s distinct complaints. 

“Can we just not talk about it?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but the room is starting to feel cramped. Feels too big to hide what Yoongi already knows about him; cornered. Or maybe it's just the chair. 

“You asked.” Annoyance is clear in Yoongi’s voice. And he is right. Namjoon knows he is right. In a less panicked state of mind, he would’ve been able to act accordingly. 

“Well. I’m not a feedee, if that's what you thought.” Namjoon’s suspicions are right when he turns his head to look at Yoongi when he responds and sees the furrowed brow. And his own tone is no better, spiteful and protective. 

“Don’t get all defensive.” Yoongi isn’t looking away either. Leaning close enough Namjoon can see the specks of donut frosting collecting at the corners of his lips. The chair began to bend in Namjoon’s direction; accompanied by the melodic screeches of the metal and springs. It wouldn't be their first fight, they’ve been friends for decades after all. 

That's how he recognizes the dangerous smile that grows on Yoongi’s face. 

“You’re gaining like one.” He manages to say before the chair finishes tilting over to the side. Falling thunderously onto the floor, with Yoongi still on it. The noise of ft slapping his wooden floor almost loud enough as Yoongi’s pained groan. 

The tension dissipates as soon as it formed, as Namjoon pushes himself out of the wooden chair to lean and help Yoongi out and up. “Are you okay?” Yoongi’s pushing himself out by the armrest, trying to unsqueeze his fatty sides from the suffocating chair. 

“Y–Yeah… Yeah I’m okay.” He breathes out, face blushed, as Namjoon reaches behind him to pull the chair out of Yoongi too. Even if he can’t see his facial expression, Namjoon can pretty much hear the grimace when he asks. “Did it break?” 

“Don’t worry. It looks fine.” Chuckling seems like the only way to alleviate the tension, popping Yoongi out with a huff. It took a bit more effort than he thought it would, he is a little breathless. Tilting the chair back upright and giving it a tentative spin. “Yeah, looks alright-” His word is cut a little short when he sees Yoongi still on the ground. Their eyes meeting. 

“Help me up?” It's a bit of a pitiful sight. But Namjoon is glad to focus on something else. He wouldn’t say he is glad Yoongi tipped over, but the relief he feels from having escaped that conversation is very real in his chest. Nodding quickly as he squats down for Yoongi. Feeling his sweatpants squeeze him around the waistband as he takes the older’s hands. 

“Lets–” Namjoon has to concentrate not to tip over as well. He doesn’t want to think about what that says of his body. The waistband of his sweats cutting the air out of him. “Let’s sit you upright first.” He comments and Yoongi looks equally exhausted. Gripping Namjoon’s forearms as the younger tries to lift the weight of his huge torso up. Both of them grunting in effort just for Yoongi to sit upright. Belly making his thighs spread as the overhang sits comfily on the floor. 

“Now-Now the hard part.” Even through his laughter he is breathless. Just from that movement alone. Though Namjoon isn’t much better; he is actually doing some effort at least. Yoongi is just breathless from being tossed around; if you could even call it that. 

Miraculously almost, the front door opens. “Perfect timing.” He comments, eyeing the front door. 

“Yeah, you could barely sit me upright.” Yoongi snorts as Namjoon stands up straight again. Looking down at him with squinted eyes. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t call the fire department right away.” His foot pokes at the sagging overhang between Yoongi’s thighs. Pillowy and rippling through his entire stomach. “Jungkook-ah! Come here!” He yells, ignoring Yoongi’s weak swats at his foot. 

The loud thumps are clumsy throughout the apartment, a pink blush, dopey eyed Jungkook appearing on the doorway. Great, Taehyung got him drunk. 

“I’m here, I’m here…” Even in his sleepy waddles the apartment thumps, and Yoongi’s body jiggles with each one. “I told you to switch to a stronger chair, hyung.” He comments without a comment as he leans towards Yoongi. 

“He didn’t break it, he just tilted it over.” He rolls his eyes. “Can you help him?” The youngest is already squatting behind Yoongi, his rounded out bloat pressing to the backrolls of Yoongi’s back. Big hunky, yet pillowy arms appearing from under Yoongi’s fat winged ones. 

“Our Jungkookie is very strong.” Yoongi comments idly, earning a happy giggle from the man behind him. 

“I’ll try.''Jungkook's hand tentatively settled on the oldest’s chest, before groping it playfully. 

“Yah!” The giggles get louder as Jungkook groans, beginning to lift Yoongi’s weight. Hands genuinely sinking into the fat, by the sheer strength making him grope Yoongi’s sides. 

Namjoon himself a little too stunned, watching Jungkook’s thighs tremble. Mumbling a quiet ‘cooperate, hyung’ into Yoongi’s ear, before his chubby feet plant on the ground. Helping, if the sigh of relief Jungkook lets out is anything to go by. Taking slow backwards steps until he is setting Yoongi onto the bed ungracefully. 

“I could’ve done that myself.” He cups his belly to stop it from obviously wobbling at the impact. But Jungkook isn’t phased. 

“Maybe, but you got the full Jeon Jungkook service!” He beams, patting his hyung’s back maybe a bit too aggressively. “I’ll go to bed. But call me if there are any more incidents!” 

“There won’t be!” They both yell at the same time, causing one final giggle to bubble out of Jungkook’s chest as he exits to his room across the hallway. The sound of the door closing settling their fate in returning to the conversation they were having before. 

Where were they? 

Ah, of course.