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"What the fuck are you doing awake, Y/N." You jump at the sound of your younger brother, Juni's voice scolding you as you flip a pancake.

He gives you a light smack on the back of your head as he reaches for a glass in the cupboard above you.

"You should be sleeping, what time did you get in?" He sneaks a strawberry from the bowl you had just prepared.

"Don't know," you shrug, "maybe 3."

"That's later than usual," he grabs the carton of almond milk from the fridge and pours it into the glass.

"Yeah, well you should've seen the wasted idiots I had to drive home."

"Did you have to or did you feel like you had to?" You turn to meet his cocked brow and your eyes immediately drop.

"Felt like I had to," you mumble as you stack a couple of pancakes onto a plate. Juni scoops a plateful of eggs you had cooking on the side and sets both items on the tray behind him, neatly arranged with the glass of milk.

You notice the coffee maker begin to bubble and call out to the boy already making his way down the hall.

"Juni, his coffee!"

"Ah yes," he exclaims as you set down the mug. You follow the boy out of habit, making sure nothing topples over like it had in the past. Especially since you weren't quite used to how hard puberty has hit your once scrawny brother and has now molded him into this tall, broad, deep voiced monster who could now support the weight of the heavy tray more than you.

You remember when Juni cried for 2 weeks when his pet turtle died when he was 7. How his dark curls bounced with each sniffle and how his tears would get caught in his long lashes as he cuddled into your side while you two rocked on the wooden porch swing in your backyard. Even when you pushed him away because you wanted to play with your neighbors, Juni's naturally given puppy eyes and pink round lips formed into a pout would always make you stay.

Now he uses those puppy eyes, along with his newly acquired height and build, to woo every girl who would fall for it, usually causing a few to show up at your doorstep unannounced. You never asked about what hormonal teenager activities happened behind his door as you only provided the proper protection necessary to keep it baby-free. Mister Playboy was still embarrassed to buy his own condoms.

God, you miss when he was 7.

You both arrive at the mahogany door and you lose your breath. This was the scariest moment of your day and you prayed for everything to be normal. Your sweaty palms reached for the doorknob and twist it, your heart thumping with fear and anticipation.

But just as fast as the fear comes it vanishes.

Because if anything could seize your anxiety and doubts, it was the sight of your father's lazy smile.

"Hi daddy," you make your way to the side of his bed and give him a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, honey." His silky voice always sparks a comfort you cannot seem to find anywhere else.

"Hi dad." Juni sets the tray onto the bedside table before holding his fist out for a fist bump.

"Hi buddy." Your father slowly lifts his arm to lightly tap Juni's fist with his own.

"How are you feeling today, daddy?" You try to make light conversation as you go through his closet to find an outfit for him to wear for the day.

"I'm okay, honey. Just feel a little weird." Juni sits your father up so that his back is laying against the headboard.

"Weird, how?"

"I don't know, I just feel like something either amazing or completely terrible is going to happen today."

Juni chuckles, "where'd you feel it Dad, your left paralyzed leg or your right paralyzed leg?"

"Juni," you scold but it is too late because now both of the men are laughing their heads off.

"That was a good one." Your dad pretends to wipe a tear before you chuck a pair of jeans and a shirt at the two.

"Since you two like to make so many jokes, you can dress him." You shoot them a fake smile before walking out of the room.

It has been 8 years since your mother and father had gotten into the car accident that killed her and left him paralyzed from the waist down. It was devastating and you spent most of those years in grief but you have finally come to terms with the loss, your family even going as far as to joke about your father's state to which he willingly allowed.

The worse part was when you had guests over and he would crack one of his wicked jokes, putting them in the awkward position of not knowing whether to laugh or offer their condolences.

When the disability checks gradually became smaller and smaller, and you could no longer afford the in-home caretaker, you and Juni stepped up to the plate.

It was difficult at first but you both quickly became accustomed to your new lifestyles and even developed a routine. It also helped that your dad's partner in his business allowed him to do a majority of his work from home, which he loved since even before the accident he never liked to move much.

There is a rhythmic knock at the door and you look through the peephole before you scoff. You open the door only to reveal a disheveled Yoongi dressed in a black hoodie and pants with sunglasses on.

"Hey, I just wanted to see if you got home okay." You watch his eyes search your living room and you can't help but roll your eyes.

"You could have called." You say, making your way back to the kitchen to clean up.

He takes a seat on the counter and taps his fingers impatiently. "Yeah but ummm, we do too many things through cellphone now. I was in the mood for some human interaction."

Juni emerges from the hallway and Yoongi almost winces.

"Yoongi, what's up!" He tightly hugs the older and you chuckle at the sight of Yoongi speechless.

"J-Juni hi."

It was something you were used to, your brother walking around shirtless but to Yoongi, an only child and a horny man, it was like God himself had given him a hug. Juni refills the coffee mug before heading back to the room and Yoongi watches his every move.

Once he is out of sight Yoongi collapses.

"Fuck, Y/N. Remind me how old he is again."

"17," you throw the sponge you were washing dishes with at his face.

"And you're absolutely sure he's straight." You chuckle but your smile falls when you meet his serious expression.

"Well from the sounds that come from his room whenever there's a girl over, I think it's safe to assume."

He sighs dramatically. "Well there go my dreams of a threesome with you two."

You scrunch your nose, "You know besides being fucking disgusting, that could make you a child predator."

"I'd risk it all for that boy." He deadpans and you choke on the tea you were drinking. He catches a whiff of the smell and his face brightens.

"No way, I've been in your house for 5 minutes and you haven't offered me some of Mama Cho's famous cinnamon tea." He runs over to the simmering pot and lifts the lid before inhaling the fragrance, "gimme now."

You pass him your mug before turning to the cabinet for another one. "So, did you really just come here just to check out my underage brother?" You emphasize the word and Yoongi scoffs.

"No, Teo told me you drove those drunk boys home and I just wanted to make sure you were still alive."

You raise your mug to clink his, "well, here I am in the flesh."

"Great, great. Now umm," he trails off and you narrow your eyes, "which one did you end up kissing?"

You scoff, "there he is. You just came for tea," you take a sip before widening your eyes. "Literally!"

"Come on, you know you can tell me. You don't even have to say yes just like blink twice and I'll understand."

"What if I just need to blink?"

"Sucks to suck. Okay first one, baby face?" He searches your eyes for a clue and you try to hold them open until he moves on.

"Okay, no. How about birthday boy?"

No blink.

"Wow you're really good at this, okay, bunny boy with abs?"

You chuckle, "how do you even know he has abs?"

"Baby girl, I know that man has abs." You roll your eyes but Yoongi doesn't feel you are hiding anything.

"YOU KISSED THE ASSHOLE WHO TOLD YOU TO SIT ON HIS FRIEND'S FACE?" You have never slapped a person so hard.

You squish his cheeks in your tiny hand and force him to meet your eyes, "for the last time, I did not kiss a single one of those boys, got it." He whimpers as he nods his head and you let go.

"Sorry, I just figured one of them would've trapped you considering how much they were asking about you last night, especially asshole."

You smile at the memory of the cute boy who was trying his best to apologize to you through slurred words and a clouded mind. "He's not so bad."

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"Mother fucker." Taehyung hisses as the sunlight seeps through a crack in the blinds and directly hits his face. He reluctantly stands up and makes his way over to shut the black curtains but stops in his tracks when he turns back around and sees another body in the bed enveloped in navy sheets.

Suddenly images of your face flood his memory. Your smile. Your laugh. Your ass.

His eyes glaze over the figure and he can't help but feel excited at the possibility of you agreeing to sleep with him despite the idiotic things he said.

The figure stirs and he cannot wait to see what you look like when you wake up. How your dark curls must fall beautifully over your face and how kissable those perfect pink lips must look.

His grin falters as he approaches the bed as he realizes he has no recollection of any of the events after he got in your car. Not a single image of you on top of him or him on top of you are in his brain. The only thing he can focus on is the immense pain in his head. But he'll fight through it. You might be into morning sex.

He slithers back into his position and spoons the figure before nuzzling his face in the crook of it's neck. "Morning," he husks to which the figure immediately whirls around, revealing a dumbfounded Jungkook in nothing but boxers.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" Jungkook's cheeks flush.

Taehyung finally takes the time to properly take in his surroundings.

Those were not his curtains. He doesn't even have curtains.

This was not his bed. His sheets were white.

He groans before jumping off the bed. In a panic, he shuffles around the room, accidentally tripping over his own shoes in the process and launching himself towards a mirror on the wall.

"What the fuck, Taehyung!" Jungkook runs up to the now cracked mirror, mindful of the shards littering the carpet. He sighs before grabbing his extremely hungover roommate and steadying him against the door. That's when he notices the trickle of blood coming from his forehead.

Taehyung notices Jungkook's wide eyes. "Am I dying?"

"No, you're just stupid," Jungkook shakes his head before grabbing the older's wrist and leading him to his bathroom. He sits a still panicking Taehyung onto the toilet seat cover while he rummages through the cabinet under the sink for the first-aid kit.

Taehyung catches the occasional glances the younger throws his way followed by a shake of his head. "What?"

"What were you doing in my bed?" He soaks a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide as he arches a brow.

He slaps a palm to his forehead, causing a bit of the blood to splatter. Jungkook swats his hand away, "don't touch it, you could infect it."

"We get it Jungkook, you're a nursing major," he winces as the younger harshly presses the cotton ball to his cut. "I don't even remember anything from last night."

"Allow me to paint you a picture," Taehyung looks up to meet his eyes. "Oh my god! Pretty waitress give me your number now! I need your number! I am stupid and I failed trigonometry back in high school and I'm going to fail again this semester." Jungkook giggles at his roommates rosy cheeks before he drops his head into his palms and groans.

"Nooo. That was real? I was hoping I imagined all of that."

"Yeah, I'm surprised she even ended up giving you her number." He tosses the cotton ball into the bin before fetching a band aid from the kit, "personally, I would've just pushed you out of my car-"

Taehyung was gone.

Jungkook pokes his head out into the room. He sees Taehyung searching his room, flipping his comforter and rug up in the process. He sighs at the sight of the desperate boy.

"Taehyung what are you-"

"Got it!" He holds up the crumpled silver wrapper in between his long fingers and hums triumphantly. Grabbing his phone on top of Jungkook's nightstand, he quickly punches in the digits to create a new contact. "Pretty waitress," he hums out and Jungkook scoffs.

"Really? Pretty waitress?" He approaches the older now staring at his screen with a bright smile painted across his. Jungkook rolls his eyes before slapping the pink Hello Kitty bandaid onto his wounded forehead.

Taehyung's head bobs back a bit but not enough for him to influence his eyes from the screen. "Should I text her?"

"No, you moron," he slaps the back of his head, this time grabbing the older's attention. "I don't know why you get like this for every new pretty girl you meet."

"Like what?" He rubs the back of his head.

"So greedy, Tae. Look," the younger takes his phone and scrolls through the long list of contacts, "this has got to be at least 200 contacts and look at these names. Pretty coffee shop girl, pretty cheerleader, pretty girl at the gas station."

Taehyung swipes his phone back and giggles.

"I'm just saying, when is it going to be enough for you? You already have everything you could ever want."

"My dear Jungkookie," he stands up and and pats the younger's cheek, "when it comes to women, enough is never enough."

"You could at least share some you know," he grumbles and Taehyung smiles.

"You're right my friend. Which one would you like?"

"The waitress."

"No." Taehyung giggles as he walks out of the room.