Yoongi shouldn't have slept. He shouldn't have ever left his beloved bear vulnerable to such a violation. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine.
He walked slowly toward the kitchen, imagining the scene as a grotesque parody of a horror film. It was absurd, yet deeply upsetting.
The kitchen itself was unremarkable, yet held the scene of the crime. There, in the corner, sat his bear. It was pristine, straight from the laundry. How it managed to still smile was a morbid mystery.
He approached cautiously, mindful of the trauma.
“Are you okay?” he asked the motionless plush. It offered no response, of course. A wave of grief washed over Yoongi.
“I’m so sorry!” he wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around the bear, burying his face in its soft fur, uncaring for the wetness. Then, he recoiled as if burned.
“What the actual fuck?” He stared at his hand in horror.
“Please be mayonnaise,” he muttered, attempting a shaky laugh. “Maybe it just wanted a midnight snack.” He brought the sticky substance to his lips, tentatively licking it.
“Oh, what the fuck!” He stared in disbelief. “Okay! Okay! It’s not fucking mayonnaise! You little mochi!” A furious rage began to build. He was going to kill him.
He stormed toward their shared bedroom, knowing Jimin was still asleep. Of course, because he was busy practically violating Yoongi’s, *his* bear!
He threw open the door—not kicked, he’d get killed by Jin for that—and stomped into the room.
“Jimin! Jimin! Wake the fuck up! You rapist!” The word ripped from his throat. Jimin stirred, groggily opening his eyes.
“What did you just call me?” he mumbled, confusion clouding his face.
“A rapist because that’s what you are! You stupid, inconsiderate piece of…” Yoongi couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t mean the insults, not really. He just felt so utterly betrayed. Jimin knew what that bear meant to him. He’d been here so long now, and Yoongi had dared to hope they had something special. Not like *that*, of course. Just…bros.
“What the fuck did you just call me,” Jimin growled, sitting up and shaking off sleep. Yoongi felt his resolve waver, hating when Jimin got rough. But he wouldn’t show weakness.
“A rapist! The bear! The bear!” Yoongi repeated, getting dangerously close, invading Jimin’s space, and shaking him like a ragdoll.
“What bear?” Jimin asked, finally slowing down.
“My bear, Jimin. The one I told you I loved with all my cold and shriveled up heart!” Yoongi yelled in frustration. What other bear was in this house?
“Oh, that bear,” Jimin said, his eyes lighting up with recognition. Yoongi almost sighed in relief.
“That thing that came out of an ashtray, right?” Yoongi sucked in a breath, trying to compose himself.
“That’s fucking racist!”
“That’s what my friends told me!”
“Then tell your friends they’re racist!” Jimin yelled indignantly. What the hell was this conversation even about?
“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re calling me a rapist because of a bear?”
“No! I mean yes, but he’s not just a bear, he’s my best friend. I have proof of your heinous crimes! I tasted and saw your not mayonnaise!”
“Wait, you tasted my cum?” Jimin grinned, recognizing a new weapon for future use.
“No! I tasted your not mayonnaise,” Yoongi shook his head, denying the image. He hadn’t actually tasted anything, just something *like* it.
“Anyway, don’t you fucking get anywhere near my bear ever again. Don’t even try to hump it at all, you horny asshole!”
“Then, let me hump you instead.”