“Can’t you fold stuff like a normal person? So, like, the exact opposite of what you’re doing right now?”
“Who folds a fitted sheet anyway?” Yoongi countered. “Just ball it up and stuff it in the bag like you usually do.”
“I don’t do that all the time,” I explained while neatly placing a haphazardly folded shirt into my laundry bag.
“You’re right. You just do that with socks and underwear,” he winked. I quickly turned away so that he didn’t see my burning cheeks.
Yoongi and I had been doing laundry together for the past couple of months. I use the word “together” loosely. More like we happen to be at the laundromat at the same odd hours of the night. Suds-o’-matic was the only 24 hour place around campus that had decent dryers. I always washed my clothes every 2 weeks, just like everybody else it seemed. So to avoid the crowds, and the embarrassment of rowdy college boys seeing my underpinnings, I washed my clothes at 10 pm. I usually went to sleep late anyway and this allowed me a chance to study for my exams. The soundtrack of washers and dryers humming was strangely peaceful and I enjoyed my time alone.
The night Yoongi first showed up, I was dancing around the empty laundromat to F(x)’s Rainbow in an attempt to keep myself awake before my next round of studying. I had finished a series of pretty seductive body rolls when I finally noticed him. He was standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised. He had his dirty clothes stuffed in a duffel bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. After a few painful seconds of eye contact, he smiled at me which only deepened my embarrassment. I could feel my face heat up and I quickly made my way back to my table.
“I didn’t know they provided entertainment this late at night?” he mused on his way to a table. It was just my luck he picked the one directly across from me. As he sat his stuff down I couldn’t help but notice how cuddly he looked wrapped up in the plushest scarf I had ever seen. He kind of looked like a turtle with his head sticking out of the bundle.
“You’re a pretty good dancer,” he offered when he caught me staring at him. I was so used to being alone I had lost all manner of subtlety. I cleared my throat and mumbled thank you.
Luckily my dryer buzzed to save me from making awkward small talk with this random stranger. I didn’t bother to sort or fold anything; I just wanted to get out of there. It was close to midnight and since my clothes were dry and my peaceful sanctuary had been invaded by a handsome, fluffy intruder, there was no reason for me to stay. I crammed everything into my laundry tote and went back to my seat to gather my study supplies.
Yoongi had just finished putting his clothes in the washer when he asked, “Hey, uh, do you know where I can get some soap?”
“You came to the laundromat without any detergent?” I replied. I knew the detergent dispensers on the wall were empty, they always were at night. He shrugged, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck.
I sighed as I handed him one of my bags, “Here.”
He eyed it skeptically before taking it from my hands. I smirked at him, his scrunched up features made him look even cuter.
“Are you sure I can keep these?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I yawned over my shoulder. I was all packed up and headed out the door when he called after me.
Curious, I turned around. To my horror he was holding up my favorite pair of underwear, the cute pink ones with strawberries all over them. Seeing them dangling from the edge of his finger made my eye twitch.
“Can I keep these too?” He teased.
“Those aren’t mine,” I lied. How much am I going to embarrass myself in front of this guy? I just wanted to combust into a thousand tiny particles and blow away with the wind.
“I saw them fall out of your bag,” he noted. He’s got me there. I could try to order a new pair online and stick with my obvious lie, or I could be an adult. So I stormed over to him and snatched my undergarments out of his hand, leaving in a huff.
Two weeks later, he was there before me. He handed me a plastic bag with brand new detergent and dryer sheets. From then on, we started to talk and learn more about each other. I learned that he was a Music major and worked in the studio on various projects into the night. On the night we met he had forgotten to do his laundry earlier that day and ol’ Suds-o’-matic was the closest place for him to clean his clothes.
Now, months later, we were still meeting at the empty laundromat to wash our clothes. I always needed help folding bed sheets so I was glad to have his company. He, on the other hand, just balled his bedding up and stuffed it in that duffel bag of his. It drove me crazy.
“It’s just going to get wrinkled anyway,” he reasoned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
I rolled my eyes. “Nobody wants to get into pre-wrinkled sheets, Yoongi.”
“It’s not like you would notice anyway,” he grumbled as he shoved more clean clothes in his bag.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he sang, giving me a smile and dance-shuffling away to collect more laundry to not fold.
A/N: everytime i see Suga in a scarf, i get so frustrated. he looks so warm. i’m jealous. if you couldn’t tell i did laundry today haha and yeah. it’s super quick and random but i hope you like it ^.^