He'd had known as soon as he'd crawled beneath the covers, a niggling awareness that had bloomed at the back of his mind even as he'd stretched out languidly to all four corners of the bed, sheets cool and fresh against his skin.
An awareness that he'd deliberately ignored, pressing his face into the softness of his pillows, eyelids already dipping closed in slow heavy blinks.
So, he had no one to blame but himself really- if he'd just dragged himself back out of bed for those few extra minutes, wandered down the hall and used the bathroom, he wouldn't be here now, staring unseeing at the ceiling in the darkness while his bladder screamed in urgent protest.
He scowled, flopping uncomfortably to his other side in an effort to ease the pressure, to no avail. Not that he'd expected any actual relief, he was already well past the point of no return. He was going to have to get up.
He just, really, really, really -really- didn't want to.
He'd had a plan. A good, solid plan. Cook an unusually extravagant dinner to celebrate finishing their promotions period (Check.) Devour the delicious dinner (Check.) Curl up in his lovely welcoming bed (Check.)
And not move until some ridiculously late hour of the next morning, if only to eventually sloth his way to the kitchen for snacks (if he couldn't convince one of his maknae babies to deliver) and then promptly crash on the couch for the rest of the day (probably with a drama and one or more of those maknae babies).
Turning slightly, he could just make out the fuzzy neon-orange numbers of Yoongi's alarm clock. Having to drag his sleep-clumsy body from the warmth of his bed at 2 am (2 am!) was some fresh sort of hell.
He was supposed to be spending the next 24hrs doing what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, how he wanted to do it. Having to get up at 2 am to pee wasn't on that list.
2:04 am to be precise.
Drumming his heels against the mattress petulantly didn't help any with the bladder issue, and with a heaving sigh of great reluctance, he pushed and dragged himself into something resembling a seated position on the edge of the bed, swiveling to let his feet flop to the floor.
Yawning, he slid his feet along the carpet, searching blindly until his toes found his slippers, sliding them on as he staggered to his feet, reaching for his dressing gown draped over the back of the desk chair.
Wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape, Jin skulked out of his room with all the flair of a particularly irritable vampire.
Feeling much more relaxed, he let the elastic waistband of his sweats snap back into place and turned to wash his hands, letting the cool water splash over his fingers, washing away the foamy suds of the liquid handwash.
Finished rinsing, he swatted at the tap, the handle swiveling to the left to cut the flow of water as he began to shake and flick the excess droplets into the sink, reaching for the hand towel hanging beneath the mirror.
Hands dry and handtowel hanging neatly again (not crumpled on the floor for the next person to pick up, Jungkook), Jin blew himself a kiss in the mirror, caught it with a winsome smile and flicked the light off.
Tugging his dressing gown closer, he wandered back out into the hallway, eagerly making his way back to his nice warm bed and the peaceful dreams he would find beneath the covers-
He stilled at the sound of gently splashing water, tilting his head-
He was sure he'd turned the tap off.
He'd definitely turned the tap off.
He'd turned the tap off, hadn't he?
He sighed.
The tap wasn't dripping when Jin stepped back into the bathroom, and he frowned; the sound of gentle splashing still echoing in his ears-
Echoing, from downstairs and he rolled his eyes, contemplating just going back to bed. Someone had obviously been down for a drink and hadn't turned off the kitchen tap properly.
Only because such a thing as 'water bills' existed did Jin move his 'always be the responsible hyung' pity party down the staircase and into the lower floor of the house.
As he made his way down the hallway that led from the dark loungeroom toward the kitchen, Jin banished all thoughts of the quietness of the house; the near silence- only the odd creak of settling timber and squeak of tight door hinges that had a way of setting chills down one's spine.
And the splashing.
Soft, barely there spatters of droplets against a surface, repetitive and unceasing, although now that Jin was paying attention, there wasn't a rhythm. It wasn't the steady pattern of a dripping faucet or a leaking pipe.
There was a very dim light emanating from the kitchen doorway.
Valiantly trying to not imagine all the weirdo's or creeps that would have reason to break into a house and run water for some reason or another (let along those other things. Things that go bump in the night) because he was a reasonable, logical adult, Jin crept along the hallway, slowly getting closer to the kitchen.
The gentle chink of one solid surface tapping against another echoed in the hollow silence, followed immediately by a loud hissing exclamation, one of obvious alarm.
And then all sounds, including the splashing ceased immediately and Jin frowned-
This was sounding more and more like shenanigans.
And they'd been told.
Gently, politely, very reasonably yet firmly warned.
No shenanigans. No pranks, tricks, teasing, joking or wisecracking during their day off. They all needed an actual day to just relax. (and not be worrying about waking up with glitter in their hair or all their phones locked. In Spanish.)
So, if this was shenanigans, Jin and the miscreant in question would be having words within the next 10 seconds. And it wouldn't be the pleasant type of words, for either of them.
But more so for whichever brat was making a mess in his kitchen at 2 am.
The gentle splashing resumed, and Jin stepped quietly into the gently lit doorway-
It was Taehyung. Because of course it was Taehyung. (Honestly, when wasn't it Taehyung?)
Only-
Jin tilted sideways to lean against the doorframe, holding his dressing gown in place as one of the terribly sappy smiles he usually did his best to hide crept its way unbidden to his face.
Taehyung, completely unaware of his observer with his back being to the door, was at the sink. Jin's own pink apron tied loosely about his bare waist, silk sleep pants riding low on his hips, cuffs pooling around his ankles.
Washing up.
The sinks only half filled with water, the drainer set up to his left- all lit by the subtle glow of the stove's range hood lamp.
Taehyung was very quietly, very slowly washing up; the utmost attention paid to stealth and secrecy. Each move careful and controlled, as one by one he carefully worked his way through the pile of haphazardly stacked utensils- cleaning, rinsing and setting aside to dry.
Jin couldn't see it, but he was nearly sure that the youngers tongue was peeking from the corner of his mouth, caught fast between teeth in determined concentration.
Dinner had been an extravagant affair; and the subsequent dirty dishes, from both the cooking and the eating, had been equally outrageous. Washing them anytime in the next 24 hours definitely hadn't been a part of his good, solid plan.
He glanced at the pile to Taehyung's right. It was considerably smaller than it should have been. The kid was nearly finished; Jin didn't want to think about how long the brat had been in here alone, washing up at 2 am. Or why? Tae was...unique. In all the best ways. But him choosing to wash up at any time, let alone the middle of the night?
Beyond bizarre. (Jin suspected the kid was allergic to chores.)
"Tae, sweetheart...what are you-" he finally questioned, stepping into the kitchen properly.
Taehyung promptly dropped the serving ladle he was scrubbing into the sink with a clang, spinning around with a yelp as he flung water in way too many directions to be physically sound.
He stared at Jin, glanced at his washing up endeavor and then back to Jin, pouting as he whined forlornly, "Hhyyuung- you're ruining it!"
Jin was a little surprised he hadn't stomped his foot to punctuate the sentence. It was, quite frankly, adorable.
Even at 2 am, when the only thing Jin thought he'd ruined was his good solid plan.
He asked as much, "Ruining what, Tae?"
Taehyung shifted slightly on the balls of his feet as if contemplating how, or indeed if he should answer, before shrugging, his body language screaming 'busted' as he started to explain, "I was- I'm cleaning up. Because- well, it's our day off tomorrow and I know even if you think you'll leave it, you won't. You'll need to clean all this up and you should get a break too, especially because you cooked it all, and that's just not fair- so I thought I could do it for you. And then I thought I could surprise you and now you've ruined it! ", Taehyung explained, pitiful pout and weaponized puppy eyes still in play as he adding the little foot stomp Jin had been expecting earlier.
Jin felt his tenaciously relished feelings of 'awake at 2 am' irritation fade without protest, unable to maintain the pretense in face of the oncoming wave of indulgent adoration.
This kid...
"Aigoo, TaeTae, that's so- Thank you. No really, that's so sweet of you. What am I going to do with you? I'm really- " Jin tried to find words to say exactly how touched he was (more so because everything the brat had said was true. He nearly definitely would have ended up washing up later that day. Aigoo; his kind, thoughtful, sweet brat.)
Taehyung's pout morphed into a sweetly self-satisfied smile, his eyes crinkling in pleasure at the praise, and Jin couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around the younger, damp pink apron and all.
Stepping away a moment later, Jin suddenly found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind if his good, solid plan was interrupted by a short 2 am washing up stint. He discarded his dressing gown over the dining table and began rolling up his sleeves.
Somewhere, in another world, another page, another verse, Kim Seokjin had battled through supreme laziness to get back up and use the bathroom before going to sleep and hadn't been woken by the incessant call of nature at 2 am.
He'd woken lazily, well rested and lethargic at some ridiculous hour the next morning. (What? 10 am was ridiculous.) And had then proceeded to slowly, but with alarming success, convince himself that he really should get up and clean the kitchen. (The longer he waited, the more stubborn the stains would become. The food scraps would start to smell. What if they had visitors? Anyone who walked in would think they lived like pigs. If he left it, the job would just get bigger and bigger as more dishes were used. )
Unable to bring himself to ask any of his dongsaengs (they'd all been so excited about their day of laziness), Jin had dragged himself from his bed, ignoring the small part of his brain that whined petulantly about his' day off' and made his way slowly to the kitchen, gathering himself mentally for the next two or three hours of laborious cleaning and washing up.
Only to be met with gleaming benches, a clean shiny sink area and nary a dish in sight, dirty or otherwise.
He might have cried.
And he'd never found out who the wonderful culprit was, (although he'd had his suspicions).
