Chapter Text
Yoongi and Hoseok had met when they were children, six and five years old, respectively.
Yoongi’s parents had started sending him to the daycare and after-school center run by Hoseok’s Omma. His parents were always busy with other things (they always seemed to be busy with meetings, travel, whispered arguments behind closed doors), and his brother, much older, was rarely around. So, when school let out, Yoongi went straight to daycare.
Yoongi was a shy child. Quiet. He did his best not to draw attention to himself, something he had learned early. He wasn’t a very physical child, though he had brief bursts of energy. Crowds overwhelmed him. Loud noises made his head ache. Because of this, he kept to himself. Other children saw him as boring or standoffish. They either didn’t approach him at all or quickly lost interest when he didn’t respond with enthusiasm.
Usually, when faced with a loud, chaotic room full of kids, he would find a quiet corner to curl up in, somewhere to do homework or play quietly on his own. On his first day, he found a small alcove between two short bookshelves just big enough to tuck his small body into. Once settled, he pulled out his favorite coloring book (jungle animals) and a small box of crayons. Carefully, he began shading a picture of a leopard in a tree.
He managed to hide out there for all of ten minutes before someone found him.
Yoongi was surprised to see the other boy standing in front of him. He waited for the child to leave, but instead the other boy all but shouted,
“My name is Hoseok, do you want to come play with us?”
He pointed back at the other children who were engaged in some sort of jumping game that Yoongi didn’t understand the rules of - and he didn’t really want to.
Unlike Yoongi, Hoseok was a loud, happy child. He was incredibly active and his easy smiles and kind nature won him many friends.
The longer Yoongi took to answer, the more insistent Hoseok became.
“We’re playing tigers! You can be the leopard! It’s like your coloring!” he added helpfully, practically bouncing in place.
Yoongi flinched slightly. “Stop,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to play that game. There are too many kids... It’s too loud. It makes my head hurt.”
He turned his attention back to the coloring book, assuming the conversation was over. He was wrong. Hoseok didn’t leave.
Instead, he tilted his head and crouched down so their eyes met. After a beat, he lowered his voice to what was likely what Hoseok considered, a whisper.
“Okay... we can just play together. Just the two of us. It’s quieter.”
He plopped down in front of Yoongi, crossing his legs - criss-cross applesauce, he muttered to himself.
“Can I color something too?”
Yoongi didn’t like the idea of tearing pages out of his favorite coloring book, but the way Hoseok was looking at him had him handing it over to the other boy.
Hoseok beamed and eagerly flipped through the pages.
“Wow, you’re a really good colorer,” he exclaimed. “Look at this tiger! Whoa, and this monkey! You used all the best colors!”
He kept flipping until he came across an uncolored picture of a flamingo and excitedly turned it to Yoongi.
“Can I do this one?”
Yoongi agreed with only a little bit of hesitation and didn’t flinch at all when Hoseok unceremoniously ripped the page from the rest of the book.
For the rest of the evening, Yoongi and Hoseok sat with one another and colored. Hoseok chatting animatedly about anything and everything he could think of - about his toy robot, his cat named Bingsu, the time he fell off a slide - and Yoongi quietly listening.
When Yoongi’s brother finally came to pick him up that night, Hoseok handed him his finished Flamingo “as a gift” and asked if he could play with Yoongi the next time he came.
Yoongi blinked. He didn’t understand, but nodded. He was certain Hoseok would lose interest in him like the other kids did.
But Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok didn’t grow tired of him. He didn’t leave. In fact, he went out of his way to spend time with Yoongi, often breaking away from his other friends and whatever game they were playing to do so.
Looking back, they’d been inseparable from that very first encounter.
Their budding friendship came as a startling surprise to Hoseok’s mother. She knew her son could be a bit of a whirlwind; bubbly and overwhelming at times. But every day after school, he gravitated toward Yoongi. They sat quietly in a corner, coloring, building tall towers out of Legos, and talking. Well, Hoseok did most of the talking, Yoongi was happy to sit and listen to his friend’s chatter.
It was clear to everyone that Hoseok adored Yoongi. He brought him little snacks and toys, shooed away other children that would encroach on Yoongi’s quiet space, and delighted when he was able to draw light laughter from the other boy.
And slowly, Yoongi began to crave Hoseok’s presence. He let himself be pulled into make-believe games, superhero adventures, and dinosaur battles. Only with Hoseok, though.
Time passed. When they weren’t at the after-school center, they were at Hoseok’s house, playing video games or building forts in his room.
At Hoseok’s house, Yoongi felt more free than anywhere else in his life. Hoseok’s parents were open and kind. They asked about his day. They let him pick what to eat for dinner. Hoseok’s Appa even gifted him his first MP3 player and helped him load it up with all kinds of music.
It felt warm there with Hoseok and his family. Safe. A place where he could let down his guard and just be.
Over time, it became Yoongi’s second home.
More than once, Yoongi found himself lingering in that warmth as long as he could, dreading the return to his own home, where meals were often silent, tension buzzed just under the surface, and laughter was something reserved for TV shows.