The sound of the door latching fell to the pit of Namjoon's stomach. Like a rock sinking through a lake. He'd tried to catch it with his foot but missed.

Now he stood on the porch, hands full of trash, not quite believing what he'd done.

Namjoon had locked himself out. Again.

The man dropped the trash bags, letting them settle at his feet. Scanning the street corner didn't help him, but he was glad no one had seen his foolishness. His friends would never let him live it down if they had.

He turned, knowing before he even tried that the handle would be locked. He tried, anyway.

It rattled in its door frame but didn't budge. The gleaming sign welcoming visitors into the lobby of the building mocked him through the door.

A breeze swept across the dark street, blowing open his coat and trying to steal his hat. Namjoon shivered, pushing down panic as he turned the handle again.

Nothing, of course.

He sighed, resting his head on the cold metal of the door. A hand searched his coat pocket, finding only lint and a rusty coin. Nothing useful. He'd left the keys hanging in the apartment like a fool. The man planned on propping the door open but should've known his reflexes weren't fast enough.

Babo-ya, he chided himself.

He cringed as he thought of the teasing he'd endure once he got back into the apartment.

Of course, he'd lock himself out the day he'd broken his phone. Of course, he'd do it when all the members were fast asleep.

Or they were supposed to be.

A smile grew on Namjoon's face as he leaned away from the door, already thinking of the upstairs window belonging to Jungkook. The maknae had to be up still playing games, right? He'd stayed up every other night that week, the sounds of his infernal game filling their apartment.

Now, Namjoon didn't mind it.

The man hurried around the corner of the building, anxious energy rushing his steps. Please let Jungkook still be awake.

On the street, a car drove by; it's headlights illuminating him briefly as he clambered over some bushes. He tripped halfway, a nasty branch tearing a sizable hole in his favorite pajamas.

"Fuck," he murmured, his eyes narrowing at the evil plant. His mind raced with plans of retribution.

The wind blew again, catching him in the face and blowing his hair in every direction. His toes chilled in the slides he'd hastily pulled on. The man shivered again, all plans against the plant forgotten.

He turned towards the window, intent on getting inside before he froze to death.

Jungkook's light was off, but a flashing computer screen lit his room. He could see the younger man in his favorite chair, legs propped up on his desk as his fingers flew over the controller in his hands. Bulky headphones covered his ears, though, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles.

It would be near impossible to drag the man's attention away from the game, but Namjoon already had a plan.

He approached the bush again, fighting past the branches to reach a flower bed at its base. Nestled against the ground were a bunch of rocks, ranging in size from a barely-make-a-sound pebble to break-a-window stone.

He contemplated them before picking up a medium-sized one, something big enough to grab Jungkook's attention, but not damage the window. Namjoon didn't want to break anything else this week.

He hurried back over to Jungkook's room, the rock chilling his fingers.

"Please let this work," he whispered to the night air.

He pulled his arm back, felt the weight of the rock weigh his arm down. He let loose, letting the rock sail from his fingers. It flew through the air, clanging against the window with a dull thunk.

He watched it fall, crashing through a flower bush. It landed on the ground near another apartment's window. Hopefully, it wouldn't wake whoever lived there.

He glanced up at Jungkook, but he didn't move from his game. The younger man hadn't heard it. For someone who's fast reflexes made him skilled at video games, he was pretty oblivious to the rest of the world.

The man sighed, frustratingly yanking his hat off. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the freshly showered strands freeze in the cold. He'd just wanted to take out the trash, not frolic through the autumn night.

"Namjoon-ah, what're you doing?"

He jumped at the sudden voice. The man paused, seeking safety. Blindly, he rushed towards the bushes lining the apartment building.

He was halfway there when he recognized the voice.

He pivoted on his heel, finding a familiar man behind him.

The newcomer stood just off the sidewalk, his hands clutching the straps of his backpack. His coat was pulled tight against the cold night, a bucket hat and mask obscuring most of his face. But Namjoon would recognize that slouched posture anywhere.

"Yoongi-hyung! I'd thought you'd gone to sleep already."

The man watched him from beneath his hat, a hint of judgment in his eyes. "No. I was at the studio, remember? Didn't Taehyung tell you?"

"He was already asleep when I came home," Namjoon confided, his shoulders slumping. He sounded more like a pitiful child than a 25-year-old.

Awkward silence rested between the two before Yoongi stepped back on to the sidewalk. "Why're you outside then?" he asked, starting towards the front door.

Namjoon caught up to him, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. He avoided looking at his hyung and instead stared at the trash, still littering the porch.

"I locked myself out," he finally muttered.

Yoongi stepped over the trash, his eyes softening, his smile hidden by his mask. His hands sought out his keys, pulling them from his pocket. They jingled as he unlocked the door.

"We should probably take care of this trash before we go in."

Namjoon nodded, hurrying to collect the trash bags.

The older man stood in the doorway, watching as his dongsaeng sprinted out to the curb, trash weighing him down.

Namjoon tossed the garbage into the dumpster as fast as he could. Relief mingled in his chest, despite the cold still nipping at his toes. Thank God for Yoongi's odd work hours, or he'd have probably spent the night outside.

He hurried back to the porch, thankful for the hyung waiting with the door propped against his arm. Yoongi would always have his back.