#vkook request

It wasn’t Jimin, he knows for a fact because he had shot him a text just a few hours earlier, telling him he was spending the night at Yoongi’s tonight.

What in the actual fuck does he do in situations like this? He fumbles about in his bed, throwing his pillows and blankets every which way in search for his phone when it hits him that he left his iPhone, all alone with whatever demon was in his living room.

So he’s royally screwed, too terrified to do anything besides whimper and hide underneath blankets.

Taehyung awaits once again, his senses heightened in paranoia. Everything is suddenly much louder, like the person’s footsteps, whatever shoes they’re wearing seem to be quite chunky, heavy, perhaps boots?

Taehyung winces at the thought of their white-carpeting, they’re probably muggy and wet from snow now.

It’s almost as if the person is searching for something, with all the frequent rustling noises and all. And any previous consideration of this person being Jimin was out the window, if it was Jimin, he would’ve called Taehyung’s name by now, would’ve came by Taehyung’s room the check-in on him. It was just Jimin’s usual behavior.

So whoever the fuck is in his kitchen now, is most definitely not Taehyung’s precious tiny best friend.

He hears the refrigerator open, a faint hum from the machinery being the only sound audible besides cartons of milk being shoved aside and that’s when Taehyung hears it.

He hears his pizza box being open, his leftover pizza and so suddenly any previous evidence of fear is washed from his features.

“Not today Satan.” 

He huffs to himself, tying the ends of the blanket tightly together,  almost as if it was a cape.

He clenches Jimin’s baseball bat firmly in his hand, bracing himself for whatever hell was out there before kicking his own bedroom door open.

Okay perhaps that was a bit too courageous of him and maybe he did just recklessly surrender himself to the murderer raiding his refrigerator, because now that he’s exposed himself and his existence, he’s certain he’ll be killed now.

He won’t even be able to avenge his pizza’s life, because at the sight before him, a boy he’s never seen before, is already wolfing down his third slice.

“Ohmff— you muff be Taehyung-mffg.” He attempts to utter, raising a hand up in a friendly wave, doe eyes slowly but surely turning quizzical as he takes in the sight before him.

“Why do you have a bat—”

Taehyung, suddenly feeling another rush of bravery strike him, bolts into his kitchen, yanks the pizza out from his hand (setting it gently back in the box of course)  before turning back to the thing before him, and the next thing Jeongguk sees is his world turning upside down, his legs falling underneath him and now his mouth is filled with mushy white carpeting.

Taehyung pants, out of breath, in a taekwondo position he had learned too many years back to count, muttering something about not being able to stretch and wow I should really practice more I’m getting rusty.

The intruder winces in agony, he can practically feel the bruise forming on his calves from the blow of Taehyung’s kick, his feet moved too fast for his eyes to follow. He can’t see anything besides pretty tan feet, toes curled inwards, he’s quite literally at Taehyung’s feet right now.

And then the world is being pulled back upwards.

Grabbing the boy by his wrists and hauling him up, Taehyung slams the boy against the wall so hard his picture frame drops lifelessly to the ground.

“Who the fuck are you?” Taehyung spits intimidatingly in his face, “and why the fuck are you eating my leftovers?”

“My fucking— dude can you fucking relax and let me go!” He attempts to break free from Taehyung’s grasp, keyword here is attempt, Taehyung’s grip is practically made of iron.

“Fuck, how the hell are you so strong?” Taehyung was a skinny lanky boy, didn’t appear to bestow the strength he carried. The boy is huffing for air now as he’s tired himself out and the ache in his legs still hasn’t gone away. Taehyung doesn’t budge, eyebrows knitted together angrily, lips in straight line and oddly enough, even after getting his ass beat, he can’t help but admire that Taehyung is in fact quite handsome.

He has really nice eyebrows too—

“Answer my question!” His thoughts of how pretty Taehyung’s nose mole was, practically severed.

“Okay! I’m an art major, Jeon Jeongguk, please put me down!” Taehyung releases the boy as requested.  

A starving artist, Taehyung clicks his tongue, he should’ve known.

“Why the fuck are you in my apartment? You have five seconds to reply before I call the police—”

“I’m Jeongguk, Jimin’s cousin, didn’t he tell you I would be here?” Jeongguk finally explains, hands on his knees, as he heaves air back into his lungs.

He watches Taehyung’s angered expression soften slowly into one of sudden realization as recollection hits him like a fucking freight train.

Right when he was dozing off, Jimin had called him, frantically asking Taehyung for permission if his younger cousin could stay at their place for the night, and Taehyung, sleepy and totally incoherent,  muttered a string of agreements before hanging up and succumbing to sleep again.

“Oh, shit you’re right!”

Taehyung’s face lights up like a switch has been flipped, and then he’s laughing, obnoxiously so, clutching his stomach as he doubles over into another fit. He looks nice like this, disheveled bed hair sticking every which way, face a bright red from laughing too hard, and his trademark rectangular smile.

He looks lovely, Jeongguk can’t bring himself to be even the slightest bit upset nor angered.

“I forgot! I’m so sorry— oh my god.”  Taehyung attempts to apologize again, pulling the boy into a hug and slapping his back a bit too hard as compensation.

“Consider it initiation to the dorm.” He says with a sly yet coy smile, hand falling shyly behind his neck.

And although Jeongguk is positive his calves are purple right about now, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes his mouth too, or the warmth flooding his chest as he beams right back at Taehyung.

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