BTS bxb

Voie Lactée/sope

Explicit
Author: friselis
Summary: Hoseok moves into a new flat, and gets much more than he expected. Sometimes, he finds, there's what you want, and there's what you need.

(Or, in which Yoongi is a ghost living in Hoseok's new apartment. Somehow feelings get caught along the way. Somehow everything turns out alright.)

_____________

Something about this whole situation, the rational part of Hoseok's mind ponders as he stands half naked in his living room screaming his head off at ass o'clock in the morning on a Saturday, must be illegal. He'll have to google it later, when he stops freaking out, but not warning your tenant about the actual, real life ghost living in their spare room must be against some sort of moral code. Hoseok could have had a heart attack. In fact, he's not yet entirely sure he's not going to have one.

There's a ghost standing next to his kitchen counter, chugging milk straight out of the carton. Or at least, Hoseok assumes he's a ghost – the morbidly pale skin and the fact that his feet seem to hover a couple inches above the ground are a dead (no pun intended) giveaway. When Hoseok starts to scream, he – very calmly – lowers the milk carton from his mouth, tilts his head to the side and just stares at Hoseok with sleepy dark eyes, small and slanted like a cat's.

"Are you done?" He says when Hoseok's scream fizzles out into silence. His voice is deeper and warmer than Hoseok expected, like bitter dark chocolate.

"Am I done?" Hoseok splutters, hands settling on his hips in indignation. "No, I'm not fucking done! It's the middle of the fucking night and there's a fucking ghost floating in the middle of my living room, drinking my milk!"

The ghost sighs in a tired, put upon way and ambles over to the fridge. He walks just like a normal person, as if his feet were touching the tiled floor – except, well, they're not. He pulls the fridge open and turns back towards Hoseok, one eyebrow raised, gesturing towards it.

"Not your milk," he says. "I've got my own."

Hoseok's carton of milk is indeed still in the fridge. His mind reels as he struggles to process all this information. There's a ghost living in his apartment, who, on top of everything else, somehow buys his own milk.

He takes a couple stumbling steps towards the sofa and collapses onto it.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" he asks, eyes fixed on the floor far away from the ghost's feet. He doesn't think his brain can handle looking at him anymore.

"It's my apartment," Yoongi says, bringing the milk carton back up to his mouth to drink again. Hoseok's eyes narrow.

"No it's fucking not," he says. "Unless you wanna pay the rent for it, it's mine. And I don't see how a dead person could possibly pay the rent."

The ghost looks up at him, eyes wide and baleful. Hoseok's chest grows tight with a strange ache he's never really felt before. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Before he can apologize, the ghost opens his mouth to speak again.

"Look," he says. "I can't leave this apartment. So unless you wanna move out after just one night, you're gonna have to put up with me."

Hoseok tilts his head to the side. "You can't leave the apartment?"

The ghost shakes his head no and sets the milk carton down on the counter before gliding over to the front door and yanking it open. He tries to step outside, but the air inside the doorframe ripples and his foot is knocked back like there's some sort of invisible magnetic field keeping him inside. He kicks it a couple more times, just to make sure Hoseok's gotten the point, before he slams the front door shut again and returns to his milk.