"I'm pretty sure you're only supposed to be watching that-"
The spoon clanged against the edge of the saucepan as Namjoon yanked his hand away, swiveling toward the hallway.
Yoongi; freshly clad in sweats and slippers leaned nonchalantly against the door-frame, using the towel draped over his shoulder to pat at damp hair.
"I think it's burning?" Namjoon answered haplessly, nimbly sidling a step or two away from the stove as the older hurriedly crossed the room; more than happy to give up the responsibility to someone with slightly more adequate skills. (Yoongi, while maybe not on par with Jin, was more than capable of saving soup from burning).
Eyeing the watery liquid bubbling away merrily, before poking at it warily with the metal spoon, Yoongi asked "...Did you turn the heat down?"
Running a hand over the back of his head at the embarrassing obviousness of the suggestion, the leader shrugged, "Well, no- but I stirred it? Shit. Shit, Jin-hyung will kill me if I burn dinner tonight-"
Turning the heat down slightly, Yoongi cocked his head thoughtfully as he responded, "No, no - it doesn't smell burnt. It's okay; I think- Stirring it probably actually helped... not bad for someone who can't cut an onion. Here- taste it-"
Groaning at the mention of the fabled onion incident, Namjoon leaned forward, carefully blowing on, before slurping the mouthful from the spoon Yoongi was proffering before him, "...not bad.- It needs coriander though, desperately. Will make or break the flavor- "
"Yah. Stop teasing, brat- you know how easily fixated on things Jin-hyung gets when he's tired-" Yoongi was chuckling though as he turned back to stir the soup again, knowing full well that Jin himself would see the funny side come morning and a few hours decent sleep.
...his insistence on running to the convenience store at 10:20 pm for fresh coriander to season their 'leftovers and packet mix' vegetable soup was one for the books though.
"Shouldn't they be back by now?"
Yoongi looked up from his attentive inspection of the fragrant liquid, quirking an eyebrow, "Seokjin and Kookie?" he glanced at his watch, "They left nearly 20 minutes ago, so probably soon. Although, if Jin's had to contend with Kook's begging and weedling..."
Namjoon snorted quietly, "Better give them another 20 then; you know hyung has trouble with Kookies puppy eyes at the best of times."
"I did try to tell him not to take the punk; all Jin wanted was his coriander, but I bet they'll come back with half the convenience store." Yoongi speculated, with no small degree of glee. (It wasn't his fault that he found their oldest and youngest's unique blend of mocking affection both hilarious and adorable).
"Well, the way Kookie bounced out of here like Jin hung the moon-"
"Hyyuuung!?"
Namjoon cut himself off as the plaintive cry echoed through the apartment.
Jimin.
Yoongi cocked his head, turning to look questioningly at Namjoon, spoon hovering halfway to the bench as he asked, "Was that meant for one of us in particular-"
Shaking his head, Namjoon replied, "No, I think it was just a general call to arms for anyone of requisite age and experience."
The 'requested hyung' in Namjoon wasn't overly concerned.
It hadn't been a 'There's blood!' hyung, or an "I'm frightened" hyung. More like a ''Save me from this enormous arachnid!' hyung. Or 'I'm stuck in my sweater!' hyung.
"He's probably locked himself in the bathroom again." Namjoon sighed, "If you've got this, I'll go rescue him before he calls Jin-hyung and ourrecident mother-hen manages to incite another minor incident in the local convenience store. "
Namjoon had just been joking about the whole bathroom thing, but his enquiring call as he'd wandered down the hallway in search of his errant dongsaeng had resulted in a reply from the first room on the right; Jimin's disembodied voice calling, "Hyung? I'm in the bathroom-"
After spending almost an hour rescuing Jimin the evening before (the door lock had subsequently been deemed decidedly problematic), Namjoon could be forgiven the exasperated frustration in his voice as he called back, "Aish, Jiminie- you were told not to lock the-"
"Hyyuung, 'm not locked in again! Just- can you come in here?" Jimin whined quietly. The newly present undertone of 'I'm somewhat agitated and require reassurance please,' and the slightly higher than usual pitch had Namjoon gently pushing the door open before the younger had finished speaking.
Their current hotel bathroom was actually of a half-decent size for once; the typical shower/sink combination augmented by floor to ceiling mirrors and the small triangular spa-bath tucked into the corner of the room.
Jimin was perched on the edge of the white tub.
Literally perched; toes curling over the lip of the porcelain for purchase, arms wrapped around his knees for balance (it was only about the cutest thing Namjoon had seen since breakfast).
Jimin glanced towards he stepped inside the room, a half smile of relief breaking across his face before he gasped softly, head whiplashing back to the corner of the room as if afraid he'd missed something significant by looking away.
Namjoon followed the youngers intense gaze across the room to where he appeared to be staring at the... washing basket?
Sturdy metal frame with a cloth bag liner, large enough to hold over two days worth of clothes for seven male idols. The staff removed and washed the contents every other day.
Probably not interesting enough to warrant such an intent inspection.
"What's the problem, Jiminie?" Namjoon prompted when it became apparent the younger wasn't going to volunteer any information.
Jimin's gaze flickered back to him for an instant but immediately returned to the clothes bin as he spoke, "Something moved, hyung. In the basket. I think there's something in there. Something...alive."
Namjoon all but rolled his eyes; the only thing alive in that basket was Junkook's socks.
Dealing with this nonsense at this hour, on way too little sleep was undoubtedly his punishment for having let the maknae line watch horror movies on the red-eye they'd taken from Shangai the evening before.
Stepping further into the room, Namjoon moved toward the basket, intending to up-end it, proving the lack of anything alive with definitive evidence. Then he'd make the little monster pick all their filthy clothes back up.
- he caught the slight rustle-glide of shifting fabric in his peripheral vision.
Huh.
It was probably some prank Kookie had set up. Or perhaps a mouse. Or a cat even. Some half domesticated animal interloper. A bird attempting to nest?
But he'd heard the tales of BigBang's Taeyang vs. the possum in the pantry of their Sydney suite. And that legend about SuJu's Siwon wrestling a snake from their maknae's pillowcase several years back was still floating around the younger idol groups.
Who knew what other interloping critters this country boasted?
Approaching the basket slowly, Namjoon cautiously reached out to lift the top article (Hobi's sweater from earlier that day) but froze at the sudden distinctive shuffle and a slightly more significant shift.
Unmistakably human.
The leader moved quickly, backing away from the basket and clicking his fingers beckoningly, even as he reached for Jimin, drawing the younger behind him when they met half-way.
Jiminie, with his peach-colored mop of hair dripping rivulets down his bare chest, dampening the low riding band of whoever's sweats the younger had commandeered (likely Namjoon's own or Tae's, given the way bare toes were only just peeking out of the pooling folds of the leg cuffs).
Vulnerable.
Namjoon stepped left slightly, subtly triangulating himself between the door, the basket and most importantly, Jimin.
If whoever was in that basket had a camera with footage of one of his members, -one of his dongsaeng- in the shower?
They were not leaving with it.
Yoongi thought he'd managed to salvage the soup.
At least he hoped so. What on earth had Jin been thinking, leaving Namjoon with eyes on the saucepan anyway? Only Tae would have been a worse choice, and that was entirely dependant on luck and the day of the week.
Yoongi supposed Jin might not have been thinking at all, given how thoroughly exhausted the eldest was- they all were. It had been an utterly hectic week; three international flights, four concerts, two interviews, a pre-recording, their next comeback looming and an MV in the planning stage.
It had already been after 9:30 pm when they'd all finally trudged into their hotel room, toeing off shoes and discarding bags and coats by the door. Jin's fatigue evident when he didn't bother scolding anyone - indeed the oldest's own were mixed amongst the mess.
It was only the fact that they had eaten take-out the past four nights and they had all needed something that didn't come in a noodle carton or pizza box that Jin had stepped up (as he always did). He'd made quick work of the leftover vegetables from lunch and a container of broth from the pantry by turning it into soup.
Jin then getting fixated on the absolute pressing need for coriander hadn't been time-efficient exactly, but anyone who thought reasonable charismatic Kim Seokjin was challenging to refuse or argue with, had apparently never tried to reason with the charmingly-exhausted, fatigue-stubborn version.
Yoongi knew Kookie had tagged along because the little sweetheart knew how tired they all were and hadn't wanted Jin going back out alone. Mostly. It was also entirely possible the brat had just wanted a sugar hit.
Whatever the case, Yoongi wasn't about to let Namjoon burn the soup that Jin had pushed through his exhaustion to make for them.
"Hyung?!"
Yoongi glanced up, all thoughts of dinner fleeing; there had been an inaudible reverberance in the call that was specifically for him. It had also been Namjoon's official leader voice, for which Yoongi couldn't think of a single cause for use within the casual setting of the hotel.
Yoongi was out the kitchen, down the hall and stepping into the open bathroom before he registered moving.
He immediately took in the tableau before him; Jimin shielded at Namjoon's back, the older poised and ready for fight or flight. More likely fight, Yoongi sensed.
Namjoon's dark stare pinned the large basket in the corner of the room, and something in Yoongi's gut twisted at the way their leader had Jimin protectively screened behind him.
"Joon-ah?" Yoongi called softly, questioningly and Namjoon glanced his way fleetingly, his face showing only the briefest flash of relief before he moved slightly, one hand splaying across their dongsaeng's chest to push him back towards Yoongi.
Yoongi interpreted Namjoon's silent instructions with easy clarity, wrapping his long fingers around Jimin's wrist and tugging the younger against his side, assuming responsibility for his safety so Namjoon could deal with- whatever the current situation involved.
"Okay. You know we know you're in there. Come out."
Yoongi felt the chill spread up his spine, setting the hairs on the back of his neck a-prickle at Namjoon's challenging words. He glanced down to where Jimin was tucked in against his side, arms crossed over his exposed chest.
The wave of anger surprised Yoongi with its sudden ferocity; who would dare-
The basket didn't reply.
Namjoon cautiously moved forward and lifted a towel from the top-
And as Yoongi watched, the fiercely angry protectiveness on Namjoon's face melted away, replaced with a look of such absolute sappy exasperated indulgence that Yoongi just knew.
Namjoon's breathy "Aigoo, TaeTae..." was an unnecessary confirmation.
Relief bled into Yoongi's body; the wave of tightly coiled adrenaline being released to sweep through him, leaving unsettling tendrils of warmth and cold in its wake. Jimin, seemingly undeterred, or perhaps unaware of where his hyungs suspicions had wandered (hopefully so), tugged free of his gentle hold, shouldering past Namjoon to press between his hyung and the basket.
Yoongi followed the few stumbling steps forward, throwing an arm back over Jimin's shoulder, pulling the younger backward slightly under the pretense of leaning over the edge of the basket to look as well, yet in reality, not quite ready to give up his protective grasp.
Jimin's hands curled over the top of the basket, and he tiptoed slightly to lean further in, snorting in delight when his gaze found his best friend.
The basket was well and truly large enough to have all but devoured Taehyung into its cotton, polyester, and wool swathed depths, leaving only a mess of wet, disheveled hair, one closed eyed, and a bare shoulder to reveal his presence. The hand attached to the visible arm disappeared into the depths, tucked beneath the youngers face (Yoongi suspected it was all that was keeping the brat from suffocating). The fingers of the other curling out from the darkness to gently conceal most of the upturned side of his face, perhaps initially a shield from the artificial bathroom light overhead.
Long lashes, still slightly clumpy with water droplets, fluttered peacefully against shower dewy skin and Yoongi felt the devilish desire build to either upend the basket entirely or at least dump a nicely wet towel center-point in retaliation for his own near heart attack of minutes ago.
Only the deeply bruised circles of fatigue that circled beneath the almost indecipherable lashes swayed his revenge-driven heart. The poor kid was exhausted; on top of the past week's schedules, Taehyung had been working double-time, filling every five-minute break and pushing his nights later and his mornings earlier to try and learn the choreography for their upcoming comeback. His previous drama commitments having pulled him away from the group when they'd initially begun learning the new routines; the younger was now desperately and furiously burning through hours and energy to catch up.
All this, straight off the back of four months of intense filming, while simultaneously keeping up with his idol commitments? Taehyung was more than entitled to fall asleep wherever he pleased; Yoongi would skin anyone who said otherwise.
Namjoon seemed to be in complete agreement, as he smoothly pulled Jimin back slightly when the younger started to reach for his line-mate, explaining, "Let him sleep, Jiminie, he's exhausted. Just... help me get him out."
The basket all but ricocheting off the wall with their first attempt, and Namjoon ripping a hole in the cloth bag during the second. In the end, Yoongi all but tipped the basket over; it took his and Jimin's combined strength to keep the cumbersome object on a steep lean as Namjoon hooked his arms under Tae's and carefully extracted his limp figure. They set the basket down hurriedly to help Namjoon stagger upright and fold Taehyung's ragdoll like limbs into his grasp.
Taehyung didn't even flinch throughout the entire process.
Tae wasn't Kookie, who regularly slept through Hobi and Jim sword fighting across his bed at 11 pm, or Taehyung thieving every blanket, sheet, and pillow from the maknae's occupied bed for the older's most recent 'pillow-fort' endeavor.
Taehyung slept a lot, slept comfortably, slept well; and wasn't hard to waken. Sure, he was hard to keep awake, but to awaken initially- not at all.
"Come on; we'll put him on the couch- he can nap until dinner." Namjoon decided, leading the way out of the bathroom.
Yoongi followed, tsking as he yanked Jimin along in his wake, draping the towel from about his shoulders over the youngers still dripping hair and ruffling, "Dry your hair brat- I'm not nursing your sick butt through our comeback if you catch a cold."
"Jin-hyung will" Jimin shrugged, seemingly unconcerned as Yoongi dragged him off to one of the bedrooms to "Find a shirt. And some slippers-"
Namjoon was a mite more concerned than his 'leader-in-control-face indicated. Tae was- abnormally exhausted. The younger had moved on from burning the candle at both ends; he'd practically stripped out the wick and set the whole damn thing aflame this past week. Namjoon was incredibly proud, and also incredibly worried, and he knew he wasn't the only one.
Hoseok had also pushed himself further than even their hectic week had asked, trying to lighten Tae's load, even if just by a little. Their dance-coordinator had poured every extra shred of energy and patience into walking Taehyung through sequence after sequence, correcting and encouraging in equal measure. Bringing drinks and snacks, hugs when the poor baby looked worn down by the impossibility of learning so much new material in such a short amount of time, heaping on the praise whenever Tae achieved the next step placement correctly. For every move Taehyung did, Hoseok had done it as well, Tae shadowing, mirroring and then finally leading their mobile two-person school of dance.
Which explained why the couch was already occupied when Namjoon paced into the small hotel living space with his precious burden.
Namjoon didn't begrudge the dancer the extra nap, just as he hadn't envied him the first hot shower when they'd finally gotten back to the apartment earlier. He just hadn't realized that Hoseok was already reclining on his planned Tae-landing pad, and quite frankly, the kid was damn heavy when he was a limp mess, all lean muscle mass, and long limbs.
But then, Namjoon doubted Hoseok would mind Tae limpeting onto him for a few minutes. Wouldn't mind? Their affectionate octopus of a group-mate would likely be ecstatic at a legitimate excuse to snuggle with arguably their most adorable dongsaeng.
Currently anyway, seeing as Namjoon could hear Jimin whining at Yoongi from two rooms away, that he "won't get sick anyway- it's not my turn," and Kookie was likely busy chatting Jin's ear off at nearing 11 pm on the tail-end of the day-from-hell schedule-wise.
And Taehyung was asleep and quiet and delightful.
"Hoba?" he quietly questioned as he approached the couch; and had to smile when Hoseok immediately opened his eyes- only resting then- eyes that immediately widened with concern when the dancer noticed Namjoon's armful, shoving himself up on one arm, mouth opening-
Namjoon's reassurance beat him to his concerned questioning, "He's fine- Just sleeping. Do you mind if he-"
Hoseok's face split into sunshine and smiles as he instantly reached for the younger. Namjoon grinned as he leaned down, releasing his burden into Hoseok's tender care for the meantime.
Taehyung slumped bonelessly into Hoseok's grip, melting into the curves and plains of the couch and body beneath his; not even a flicker of movement or awareness. Namjoon frowned again, catching the smile fading from Hoseok's face as he met the dancer's worried eyes, Hoseok voicing his worries this time, "Is he okay?"
Namjoon pushed the still slightly damp bangs off Taehyung's forehead, surreptitiously feeling for a fever, yet finding none that he could detect. He watched as Hoseok curled long fingers around Taehyung's deceptively delicate looking wrist, knowing that the dancer was counting the beat of the pulse beneath his fingers.
Brushing the hair from Taehyung's forehead again, just because he wanted to this time, Namjoon's fingers cardded gently as he waited for Hoseok's finding, which the dancer delivered a moment later, "A bit slow, but not worryingly so- just, at rest."
Namjoon nodded but could tell from the look on Hoseok's face that the other was no more satisfied then he (they'd never forgive themselves if something was seriously wrong and they'd missed it entirely)-
Reaching out, Namjoon gently shook Taehyung's shoulder; and then again, a little more forcefully when there was no response, adding firm prompting words as he tapped at the youngers cheek, "Tae? Taehyung? Wake up, baby-"
And finally, finally, Taehyung moved, one hand turning to clumsily paw at the nearest moveable object- aka, Hoseok's hand. Twitching slightly and curling into Hoseok's chest, Tae dragged Hobi's hand up and dropped it over his own face, neatly cutting off the annoying tapping fingers access.
This was accompanied by a very direct and pointedly murmured "Hyung. Tae? No."
Namjoon almost choked on the laughter that bubbled from some hidden chamber that only his dongsaeng's seemed to have the ability to open; only the highest-quality mirth hid there.
He pet Taehyungs hair gently, grinning at Hoseok, "I'm using that one. Dongsaeng. Namjoonie? No. " Standing he added, "I'll come get you when the soup-"
Namjoon froze.
"The Soup! Jaenjang! Jin-hyung is going to kill me- "
Namjoon made it back into the kitchen only seconds before the door beeped in the entrance, and it was flung open to allow entry to Kookie's turned back, the youth walking backward as his voice rambled a mile-a-minute about-
Roller-skates?
Namjoon didn't have the energy to even contemplate wanting to know. He busied himself 'watching' the soup, praying that whatever Yoongi had done had lasted through their little side adventure with Taehyung.
Thankfully, Jungkook disappeared into the hallway with his- "Three bags, hyung? Really - what did he do, pull out the nuclear puppy eyes-"
Jin trudged into the hotel, toeing off his shoes and stepping into slippers, unwinding his scarf as he fished out of his pocket a small bottle. Namjoon assumed it was the quest item: coriander. He had already decided against mentioning that it obviously wasn't fresh.
"Oh hush you. Like you would have done much better. Besides, one of the bags is instant Ramyeon. In case you managed to burn my soup. Did you manage to burn my soup Namjoon-ah?" It was asked sweetly; like Namjoon wouldn't be decapitated if he happened to answer in the affirmative
Namjoon knew better though.
Jimin suddenly blew into the kitchen, interrupting them, excitement that he'd probably caught from Jungkook visibly bubbling in the slight bounce and just-too-wide grin. (Namjoon was incredibly glad Tae was asleep, two hyper maknae, and a hyper-Tae...he didn't think he could cope. There was a reason Tahyung had his own separate classification, beyond being their middle maknae.)
Jimin draped himself half over the island counter between them, half asking, half demanding eagerly "Hyung, I need to borrow your phone-!".
Jin turned, the request undoubtedly aimed at him, and Jimin stopped dead-still at the silently reproving raise of one perfectly manicured eyebrow, correcting himself immediately "Ah- that is- Sorry, Jin-hyung. Can I please borrow your phone?"
Jin's face melted into indulgence and he replied, "In my bag, sweetheart-" before turning back to Jin with the same raised eyebrow-
"My soup, Kim Namjoon?"
Just a little smug, Namjoon replied, "You can save your Ramyeon for tomorrow, hyung- the soup is fine. I did a goo-"
"Yoongi-ah took over, didn't he?" Jin interrupted, and Namjoon knew he wasn't required to answer. Nothing got past Jin-hyung. Ever.
Already doctoring his soup with the coveted herb, Jin asked over his shoulder, "Has everyone showered, yet? Can you get the bowls, please?"
Moving out of the way as Jimin breezed back past, Jin's phone clutched to his chest beneath a cheeky grin that Namjoon would have been worried about had he noticed; the leader replied, "Everyone's cleaned and dressed- just you and I left. Cups would be better, I think- Hobi can barely keep his eyes open, and I'm pretty sure one of is going to end up feeding TaeTae tonight if we want him to eat."
Jin, stirring carefully, nodded as Namjoon began pulling mugs from the upper shelves of the little cabinet above the sink, "I'll try to give Tae mostly broth then...easier to pour down his throat, poor baby. We'll just have to make sure he eats something with some solid fiber for breakfast. You go shower then, and I'll have last one after we eat."
Namjoon didn't need to be told twice, knowing that Jin would refuse any offer for Namjoon to finish dinner while he showered first (probably rightly so). Better that he showered quickly now, so Jin could jump through straight after.
A quick detour past the second bedroom to gather his sweats and a towel and Namjoon hurried into the bathroom. He vaguely registered Jimin and Kookie whispering and generally acting suspiciously in the corner of the small room as he stripped off his shirt, but didn't pay the boys too much attention. He just wanted to shower quickly, so as to not hold up their meal.
Also, not having the reserves of ridiculous energy the younger two seemed to have tapped (getting them to sleep after dinner was going to be a bitch) to deal with their shenanigans was a factor.
Only, when he tossed his stripped off shirt into the basket in the corner, the damn thing moved.
"JEON JUNGKOOK, PARK JIMIN-"
Both brats hightailed it out of the bathroom, cackling like hyena's, and Namjoon sighed, approaching the basket.
They had.
Taehyung was curled back into the depths of the basket, most of him lost beneath toweling and woven fabric. He seemed quite content to be there; if his still being soundly asleep was any indication.
Aish, what were those two-
-And then Namjoon noticed Jin's phone on the sink to his left, the camera still open-
He couldn't help but snigger.
Not getting adorable blackmail photo's of Tae asleep in a laundry basket was probably a travesty worth correcting.
