Daddy Daddy→yoonmin [EDITING]

"Little Space?"

Yoongi entered the cramped apartment, coughing from the amount of pollution he got from his walk home from work. The 25 year-old pursued music, working as an in-house producer of an entertainment company.

Yoongi earned a good amount of money— he was fucking loaded, so why the hell did he settle for sharing a small apartment that Jimin claims to be a shithole, when he could've moved into a place with better conditions?

The ravenette's house was very far from the building he worked at. It would cost him two to three hours to get to work by car, top that on the gas money, Yoongi was starting to get concerned.

The apartment complex his childhood friend, Taehyung, introduced him to was the closest he could find to his work place. Monthly rent in such place was easy to muster up, it gave his savings an additional boost.

Yoongi surprisingly didn't grow up spoonfed. The male grew up at a humble farm in Daegu, waking up early to tend to animals and help with crops. With all of these experiences, he didn't really mind sleeping on a couch or living in a small house in general, because he was used to it. 

“Jimin?” Yoongi called out, placing his shoes neatly on the shoe rack. As the days went by, he and Jimin started to become more comfortable with each other. All kinds of formality were dropped in a week, and they actually became good friends.

Yoongi's forehead molded into a crease, wondering why he didn't get any form of response from the younger. He looked at his wristwatch, it read 9:30 in the evening. Jimin should have already got back home.

He placed his bag on top of the living room's worn out couch, voice echoing in their space for another time as he tried to find the male. He roamed the whole apartment, but there was no Jimin in sight. The only place he hasn't checked was the male's bedroom, and so, he made his way to Jimin's lair, the soft padding of his feet against the floor board sounding in the air.

As he approached the boy's room, he heard the faint sound of what seemed like a nursery song. His eyebrows knitted together, curiosity sparking up in his mind.

Why is Jimin playing a nursery song? Is he babysitting his friend's daughter?

Not wanting to frighten a possible visitor, Yoongi carefully opened the door of Jimin's room, creating a small gap. He peeked, trying his best to make out an image.

What Yoongi saw got him flabbergasted.

His roommate, Park Jimin, a whole 23 year-old, was having a tea party with an incredulous amount of stuffed toys. He was wearing baby blue silk pajamas and was gladly pouring 'tea' inside the cup of his 'guest', bubbly aura radiating off of him.

“Do you want more sugar cubes in your tea, Ellie? Kaira the Cub said you liked your tea sweet,” Jimin happily chirped, looking at a fucking stuffed elephant.

Yoongi was stunned, limbs not cooperating. He was practically frozen in his place, and so, he watched the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

He wasn't used to seeing his cool and friendly roommate as somebody who'd host a 'tea party', moreover with stuffed animals. He was dumbfounded, all he could focus on was Jimin and how he acted like a kid.

Slowly, sense kicked into the ravenette. He gently shut the door close, mouth still agape, he walked back to the living room. The boy tiredly plopped himself onto the couch, releasing a sigh.

Still fazed by what he witnessed, he fished out his phone and called his best friend slash colleague from BigHit, Jung Hoseok.

“Hey Hobi,” the male greeted, his voice extremely raspy from the exhaustion he felt.